by K. F. Breene
A strange whine rang through the streets. It increased in pitch, a small jingling infusing the blare, like the metal workings of a crank. A moment later, behind them, another started. Then another.
“They’re using the alarms,” Marc said.
“Slow down, you bloody animal,” Alexa screeched in her language, jostled as the Bastard took a corner way too fast. His hooves, not finding enough purchase on the cobblestone, skittered, making him stumble.
Marc’s horse, of similar stock but lesser breeding, meaning it still had sense, slowed enough to keep its feet. Still Marc slid on the glossy back, barely keeping on. He really hoped Xavier remembered to get some extra saddles.
Around the next bend and they could see the gate. Half of it stood open, with a body lying facedown in front. Two people were bent over him, one looking like he was checking for a pulse. Another stood straight, holding a bow. Off to the side, people loitered, looking between the opened gate and the man on the ground. The siren wailed.
As Alexa and Marc ran at them, everyone looked up. The man with the bow started, and then raised his weapon. A moment later, he flinched and grimaced, lowering to the ground.
“No, Alexa!” Marc yelled. “Leave them be.”
“He was going to shoot!”
“Whoa,” Marc said, pulling on the horse’s mane. He didn’t know what else to use as reins. “Whoa!”
Marc’s horse took the command gracefully, stopping gently.
“Stop! Stop, you filthy animal. Whoa! Stop!” The Bastard didn’t even slow. He ran at the man with the bow and reared, kicking out with his front feet. Alexa yelled a series of phrases Marc had never heard before, and were probably not kind, holding on for dear life.
“We are going after the woman who was kidnapped,” Marc called in a loud, clear voice. “The Graygual have taken the Wanderer. We are going to win her back.”
“The Wanderer?” someone said. Everyone else was mute, too busy dodging, or watching others dodge, the mad horse with the dangling rider.
“More of us are coming. Leave the gates open. We have to go after her!” Marc put more urgency in his voice this time. “Alexa, let’s go!”
“Ride, you bloody bastard of a horse. Stop trying to kick him in the head and ride!” She kicked the horse’s sides and then slipped halfway off. He came down, allowing her one moment to climb back on, and then he was running again, hurtling out of the gate like a demon.
“I do hate that animal,” Marc said, digging his heels into his horse and following. He hoped Xavier wouldn’t have as much trouble getting through the gate.
They turned right, following the upturned ground from the fresh tread of fast-moving horses. In the moonlight, they could just see the group of Graygual ferrying Shanti away in the distance.
“Keep them in sight, but don’t get too close,” Marc said, not sure if she could hear him over the thundering of hooves.
His unspoken question was answered a moment later when she yelled back, “I’m not an idiot!”
Marc chanced a look at the ground behind them, seeing the trail cutting through the dried field. Xavier would have no problem following it if he came quickly. Which was lucky, because Marc didn’t have anything to drop to leave a trail, unless he counted his clothes. He wasn’t in the mood to ride the horse bareback while naked.
The Graygual were heading south, in the direction Leilius had surmised Xandre had set up camp. It was amazing the things Leilius could learn sneaking and listening in. S’am had trained him well.
“We’re going to be intercepted,” Alexa called back. She pointed to the city wall, curving around to the left.
“Who is it?” Marc asked, wishing he had a bow with him.
“They feel familiar.”
Horses trotted out from the side, in no real rush. Surprise flitted through Marc as he recognized more of the Honor Guard.
Rachie, Gracas, and Ruisa saw them at about the same time, throwing up hands in salute. The hands dropped quickly, though.
“Slow for a moment,” Marc said, veering slightly.
“We haven’t time.”
“Just a little.”
Alexa cursed again as the Bastard neighed in annoyance.
“What are you doing here?” Rachie asked at the same time Gracas said, “We were just looking around.”
“We weren’t going to go in or anything,” Rachie said over the end of Gracas’ words. “We just got bored at camp so we snuck away.”
“They’ve got S’am,” Marc said in a rush. “We’re following them.”
“What?” Ruisa leaned forward in her saddle. Her horse picked up speed. “What did you say? Is that the Bastard?”
“The Graygual took S’am,” Marc said, urging his horse faster. The others fell in, as he knew they would. “Alexa had a…premonition, or whatever, to follow. Xavier and the others are getting horses. They’ll be on their way shortly.”
“How did they get her?” Rachie said.
“Inner Circle, we think. With that prisoner that got away. He must’ve disguised them so they could sneak up on S’am. There were a lot of them.”
“Where’s the captain?” Ruisa asked.
“Rohnan went back for him. We didn’t wait.” Marc looked ahead. The black specks hadn’t become any smaller. They must’ve slowed too. Hopefully it meant S’am was putting up a fight.
“What do we do when we catch them?” Gracas asked.
“We’re not going to catch them.” Marc glanced behind them. Still no sign of Xavier. “We’re going to follow them until the others catch up, and then…just keep following them, I guess. I don’t know.”
“That’s a pretty stupid plan, Marc,” Rachie said.
“Then don’t come with us.”
“Of course we’re going with you.” Rachie snorted. “But it doesn’t stop your plan from being stupid.”
“Where’s Alena?” Marc asked.
“She didn’t want to come. She said the risk of getting in trouble was too great to basically go look at a wall.” Ruisa shook her head. “I bet she’ll kick herself for not coming now.”
“Not if we catch the Graygual without a plan,” Rachie said. “She’ll have dodged an arrow, then, because we’re sure to die.”
“We’ll come up with a plan when Xavier gets here.” Marc wiped his face in annoyance. “One thing at a time. Wait. Slow down more. They look like they are stopping. We don’t want them to know we’re following them. They might send someone back to kill us.”
“How many do they have?” Gracas whispered as their horses slowed to walking pace. They drifted toward prickly bushes nesting between a couple of bare trees.
“Break up. Let’s not cluster. It’ll make it easier to see us.” Marc hunched down for no real reason. “They have three really good fighters. I mean, they took S’am down, so they must be great. Then that one guy who blocks out the Gift.”
“Any they send back, I will kill,” Alexa whispered. “They’ll keep their Gifted with S’am. We’ll only need to avoid the whole party.”
“True.” Gracas stroked his scraggly whiskers. “Or else they’ll knock S’am out and send someone back.”
Alexa tensed. She probably hadn’t thought of that.
The group of Graygual had definitely stopped, but Marc couldn’t see what they were doing. They were little more than a dark blob on a moonlit plain.
“I hate how hot it is here, even at night.” Rachie pulled at his collar. “I’m all sticky.”
“That beard makes you look ridiculous, not older,” Ruisa said quietly, eyeing Gracas’ face.
He frowned and dropped his hand. “Your face makes you look ridiculous, but do I say anything?”
“I can’t help my face, but you can help that poor excuse for manliness on your chin,” Ruisa shot back.
“Shut up,” Marc seethed, staring at the blob. It seemed to be moving again. He glanced back, looking for Xavier, and was rewarded with another black shape coming alongside the gate.
“Ok
ay, let’s get moving slowly. Xavier is coming.” Marc directed his horse away from the bushes. “I sure hope he brought a saddle.”
“I sure hope he has a plan,” Rachie murmured.
“You should have left me where I was,” Burson said for the fifth time, his tone grave. “We’ve now passed on to an even more perilous series of paths.”
He sat in a chair with his hands untied, completely placid and no longer asking to leave the inn. Cayan stared down at him, his heart thumping and Shanti’s mind invisible. Worse, he could feel her through the Joining, angst-ridden and resigned. It meant she thought she was headed to her death.
“Why didn’t you tell me another of your kind was in the city?” Cayan demanded. “Why sit here in utter silence unless you were asking to leave?”
“If I told you, you both would have died in this city. I’ve told you this before. I cannot reveal everything I know; it could have disastrous consequences. In some instances, you need to make the choice. That is the only way of salvation.”
Cayan flexed his fists, using all his willpower not to bash Burson where he sat.
“Where is she going?” Cayan asked.
“If I tell you, you’ll die.”
“Will my death save her life?”
“In essence, you will be trading yourself for her, yes.”
“So be it. Tell me.” Cayan stood over the man, feeling Sanders below them, getting the horses and army ready. Half of them would be riding intoxicated, but, experienced as they were, it wouldn’t matter.
Burson raised a finger. A mad grin slid up his face. “If you figure it out for yourself, there is a chance you will both live.”
“Burson, I am not above prying it out of you—”
“Captain!” Rohnan ran in. Blood ran down his arm and dripped from his fingers. “Boas is away to inform the army. Sanders is almost ready. We need to get moving.”
Cayan bent down toward Burson, seething with anger. “Tell me where they’ve taken her, or I will beat it out of you.”
“Leilius thought he had that information,” Rohnan said, clenching and unclenching his bloody fist. He held a couple of sheets of paper in his good hand. “Or near enough. He wasn’t positive, but he had pieced together all the rumors and gossip he’d heard. I took it from his room.”
“I’m sure Shanti will be happy with Leilius’ efforts,” Burson said.
“Let’s go.” Cayan reached down and yanked Burson up by his collar. “You’re coming too.”
“That was always my fate, yes. Be it this way or another, I have my part to play.”
“Do you need to wrap your arm, Rohnan?” Cayan asked as he left his room and hurried down the stairs.
“I will when I have a moment. We must hurry. Don’t blame yourself for this—there is no way you could’ve known.”
“Stay out of my head,” Cayan growled, even as the crushing guilt threatened to overcome him. That wasn’t going to help the situation. He needed to stay focused and push it away until she was safe.
“What is happening?” Budo ran out of the common room.
“They’ve taken Shanti.” Cayan paused and turned to him. “Tell your Wanderer Network. Alert them. We need information on Xandre’s—the Being Supreme’s—whereabouts. Anything you can do to help might save her life.”
“Of course. Yes. I can message you the location if I hear. But how will I get it to you?”
Cayan started away again. “Get it to everyone. Tell them it is time to choose—the Wanderer and their freedom, or the Graygual and a cage. The time for hiding is over. Now it is time to fight.”
He pushed through the door and out into the street. As if on command, his horse was brought around by a stable hand, saddled and ready. Sanders rode out a moment later, turning back in his saddle and yelling at the others to hurry up.
“Xandre is amassing his armies as a distraction, it seems.” Rohnan held out the pages.
Cayan took the pages and shook his head. “For most battle commanders, I’d say that is not possible. It makes Xandre extremely vulnerable if he is not with them, and leaves the land open for revolt. Sure, he might draw us there, but at what cost? He could not hope to capture Shanti that way. He’s tried before and failed.”
“He didn’t hope to capture her that way, as we see.”
“Clearly.” Cayan studied a small square of map. The place Leilius had indicated was where Xandre resided. Had resided, in fact, for some months. Planning. Orchestrating all this until Shanti was close enough to grab. “He has always been way ahead of us. He planned for failure each time. If he didn’t capture her along her route east, he’d do so in the Shadow Lands. That failing, he’d let the Hunter draw her. That failing, he’d fortify a few chosen cities to trap her in. That failing…this swampland holding a lone castle. One side is ocean, so probably a cliff, and the other uninhabitable land, certainly filled with both devised and natural dangers.”
Cayan handed the map back and climbed on his horse, his mind whirling. “Burson, is that where they have taken her?”
“My telling you will result in—”
“Tell me!”
“It is, yes. Xandre will finally have his prize.”
Cayan dug his heels into the sides of his horse. “He has my prize, and I intend to get her back.”
11
Shanti woke up with a pounding head and fuzzy vision. Hot, sticky air coated her skin as she lay in a hard bed covered with expensive silk. Stone walls closed her in, and no glass filled the small window.
After blinking and wiping her eyes, she sat up, her sight clearing, but it didn’t do anything for her head.
A small wooden chair sat in the corner, rustic and battered to hell. Next to the bed stood a small stool holding a chamber pot, thankfully empty.
“Odd place to put that,” Shanti said softly, trying out her voice. Though scratchy, it worked fine. Just like her limbs and digits.
She stood, fighting the immediate dizziness, which cleared relatively quickly. A cream drape, of sorts, covered her, airy and light. The clothes she’d been wearing were nowhere in sight, and the dirt she’d gained from being lugged from one place to the other had been cleaned.
“A jailer who cares. How lovely.” She scowled at the situation. How stupid she’d been to end up…wherever she was. In all the time she’d been evading him, she still went and let down her guard in a recently occupied city. Fool.
At the window, she looked out on the blue of the sea, expansive and beautiful. If it hadn’t been for the horrible weather, she’d feel like she was home.
Maybe she should actually thank him for the sheet-like clothing she was wearing. It was certainly cooler than her own would’ve been.
She gave the room another sweep, saw nothing out of place, and then tried the door. Surprise coursed through her as it pulled open. She stared down at the handle, mystified, as the man from last night stepped into view. One, they’d called him—both a name and a position, she’d bet.
“I expected it to be locked,” she said, letting go of the cold metal. “Nice digs.” She waved her finger around.
One’s brow creased, ruining the blank stare he’d had a moment ago. “Hot, though. Aren’t you hot?”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“Good self-control. Most people would’ve looked down.” She peeked out the door. Tac, the scarred man who was keeping her from reaching her power, waited in a chair outside, reading. He glanced up as she stepped out. “Just you two, huh? Xandre isn’t worried that I will snap his neck”—she pointed at Tac—“and then kill you?”
One’s face didn’t change this time. “The master requests your presence for a meal when you are hungry. Shall I lead you?”
“My, my. What nice manners. A real gentleman. Except for the kidnapping, of course. And then the drugging me on the horse ride. What did you dose me with?”
“Something to keep you from trying to bite my legs or cock.” One’s eyes hardened. “Are you ready to eat?”
“
Well, I had to do something, didn’t I? You’d kidnapped me. I had to make you work for it.” Shanti motioned him forward.
Tac stood, too.
“Are you dying to ask me how it feels when the shoe is on the other foot?” she asked Tac.
He stared straight ahead, giving no reply.
“Did you kill Daniels?” she asked. A shock of rage ran through her.
Tac didn’t reply.
Holding her anger in check so it didn’t dilute her senses, Shanti let it go for now and followed One down a wide set of stairs. Halfway down, her foot hit the step wrong. She tried to adjust, but her legs were like jelly. Tipping forward, she reached out for anything that would break her fall. She clutched One’s large shoulders, her weight crashing into him a moment later. For one moment, she thought they would fall down the rest of the way, headfirst.
Instead, with a show of his strength, he braced to stop her fall before turning and offering her a steady hand. He didn’t say a word, just helped set her back onto her feet and make sure she wouldn’t tumble down a second time.
She took a deep breath, ignoring her clattering heart. She hadn’t been this clumsy in a while, having been healthy, fed, rested, and looked after. It was not a welcome stroll down memory lane.
“That was your fault,” she said. “For drugging me.”
He stared at her for a moment, offered no comment, and then continued down the stairs, slower than they had done previously.
“You guys are the strong and silent types, huh?” she asked, picking her way more carefully. It was hard, her mind still lethargic. “Or one of you is. The other is the scarred and silent type.”
As they continued, she filed away One’s reactions. He did not so much as flinch when she hit him from behind. His reactions were cool and seemed almost trusting. His shoulders were heavily muscled, as was his back. Smaller than Cayan, but not as lean as Rohnan. Strength, fluidity, and speed, she’d bet, in perfect synchronicity. He’d be stronger than her, no doubt. Possibly faster, helped by his testosterone, but would he be as wily? She doubted it. It would be a tough fight. One she’d need to be healthy for. Or have the use of her Gift.
