Thrall

by Barbara Ann Wright

  Close to the floor, Aesa stepped on a stone that clicked, the sound echoing through the quiet chamber. Aesa froze; they all did. When nothing happened, Ell thought it must have been a random noise.

  A rumble started in the stones, deep and low. The milky rectangles glowed once, sharply, and then pulsed, a ring of light that spread across all of them and continued through the stones.

  Ell looked down at herself, at Aesa and Chezzo, but they seemed unharmed. “What was—” She flew sideways as Niall launched himself at Aesa. Ell tried to keep her footing, but she tumbled sideways off the stairs and toward one of the milky pools below.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  As the power rolled over them, Maeve fell to her knees. Laret cried out, and Maeve fought the urge to do the same as power surrounded them, hundreds of voices reaching forth, flinging their spirits into the ether and pulling at Maeve to do the same. Her head filled as if a storm was coming, and the wind buffeted her from all directions.

  Just as quickly, it was over, and she was left blinking and gasping in the sunlight trickling through the branches overhead. “By the rotting gods, what was that?”

  Laret sat up slowly, holding her head and cursing. Dain knelt nearby, and he eyed Maeve as if he feared she’d use her wyrd again. “What happened?” he asked.

  “It was like…” She didn’t know how to describe it. “Power.”

  “Gone now.” Laret said. “But some of it clings to me still.”

  Maeve searched inside but felt nothing lingering. With her blood magic, though, Laret sometimes felt power differently.

  “If you’re better,” Dain said, “we should keep moving.”

  They’d been wandering the forest all morning, stopping to rest when they were exhausted. Even then, one of them had kept watch. For her turn, one agonizing hour, Maeve had pinched her leg and strolled their camp, fighting not to fall asleep. When she’d finally gotten to rest, she’d slept so deeply that she didn’t sense any passage of time.

  “Maybe we should go back to Ulfrecht,” Dain said, a thing he’d tried to casually mention any number of times. “I mean, what choice do we have?”

  None, Maeve supposed. Her plan to wander until Aesa showed herself wasn’t going well, and now the island seemed to be taking action against them, if that was what the jolt of power had been.

  Laret peered into the trees, clearly not listening as Dain rambled on about why they should return to Ulfrecht’s side. She rubbed her stomach as if ill or hungry. “It’s like a tether.”

  “Ulfrecht?” Dain asked with a frown.

  She blinked at him before frowning. “No, not Ulfrecht. Pay attention.”

  He drew a breath to retort, but Maeve touched his arm. “What tether?”

  “The power.” She rubbed her belly again. “As if it tied a rope around me.” She moved her finger in a lazy circle. “It wants me to go that way, or maybe that way. Or perhaps…”

  “An indecisive tether, then,” Dain said.

  Laret glared at him. “Maybe you can dream up another word, oh warrior poet.”

  Maeve had to laugh. Worry seemed to bring out the mockery in Laret, and Maeve wondered how many challenges she’d had to answer in her travels. “Well, now we have options, at least. Go back to Ulfrecht or follow this invisible tether.”

  “To what end?” Dain asked.

  “We know this island has some kind of power. Maybe if we follow the tether, we’ll find a way to free the fini.”

  Now even Laret looked at her curiously. “You’ve adopted Aesa’s cause.”

  Maeve wanted to say it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t get the fini from her mind, their blank, smiling faces intently focused with the desire to aid her, a woman they didn’t know from a people who’d attacked them. And she’d heard enough, sensed enough, to know that they didn’t want to help out of kindness but compulsion. Now that she’d met them, the idea sickened her even more. “If we seek out this power, we may also find Aesa.”

  Dain and Laret exchanged a glance. “Maeve,” Laret said, “since Aesa wasn’t with Gilka, she might be—”

  Maeve shook her head, so certain Aesa lived that the words couldn’t affect her. “She’s cleverer than that.”

  “She might not have made it to the island,” Laret said.

  Dain nodded. “Especially if she said the wrong thing to Gilka.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “She always had a hot head.”

  “I’ll wager anything that she found a way to escape, just as we did.”

  Laret’s lips quirked up. “She’s a bear, too?”

  Maeve smacked her on the arm. “Now, which of these tethers shall we follow?”

  “This way feels the strongest.”

  They began walking, mostly silent, lost in their own thoughts. A cool breeze passed over Maeve’s skin, prickling the hair on her arms. Her skin pebbled, and she rubbed the back of her neck as if she could brush off unseen eyes. She glanced through the trees but saw nothing. It could be a predator, or maybe it was a lingering effect of the magic pulse.

  The bear spirit didn’t believe that. It rested now, but it was always alert. It told her to raise her nose and smell the breeze, but they didn’t share the same senses. She wouldn’t know one scent from another even if she could detect them.

  A twig cracked, the sound silencing the birds, leaving only the buzz of insects. Maeve grabbed Laret’s arm, but she’d already stopped. Heavy breathing, like something wounded or tired, sounded from the trees, and Dain drew his sword.

  A bush moved, flattening as one of the island’s odd guards stumbled into the open. His skin was pasty white, his ears long and notched near the tips, and his eyes were rounded like a cat’s. He had pale yellow hair, cut short like a new recruit, but he wore armor made of scaled plates.

  He turned toward them, and his eyes were red, bloodshot perhaps, or maybe that was their normal color. His lips pulled back in a bestial snarl, revealing sharp teeth. Maeve raised a hand to tell him they weren’t going to hurt him, but he charged.

  Laret chanted, and heat rolled from her in waves. The undergrowth of the forest pulled the guard to the ground. Dain shouted a warning, and Maeve turned just as another guard spilled from the woods, running at them. Dain rushed to meet him.

  Leaves crackled beside her. Maeve hurried out of the path of a third guard as he dashed from the bushes. More of them poured from among the trees. They seemed clumsy, almost rabid, ignoring the weapons at their belts in favor of hands and teeth. Maeve reached inside herself, fighting to bring forth her wyrd, but the words fled before fear.

  She didn’t want to kill people, didn’t want to relive what she’d done to Henrik, but she also didn’t want to die! She latched on to that thought, holding it, trying to tell her wyrd that if it didn’t reappear, she could be killed.

  Still, it wouldn’t listen.

  Dain cried out in pain, and Maeve looked for him, but the guards had come between them. Too many. Laret’s magic wouldn’t keep her ahead of them for long.

  Maeve’s lips began moving, and this time she managed to shuck most of her clothes before the bear came rushing out of her, clawing and biting, roaring a challenge.

  *

  Laret heard the roar and shouted a word of thanks to the True God. She chanted over and over, summoning plants to grab her enemies or trip them for the few moments it took to stay ahead of their reach. She flung her blood at others and called for them to bleed, but they resisted her power, their blood flowing as sluggishly as tar.

  She yelped as one of the guards caught hold of her, yanking her arm hard enough to send sharp pain through her shoulder, driving back the bliss of her magic. Roots bucked from the ground and pulled him under nearly to his waist. Behind her, Dain heaved for breath. Guards leapt from the forest like insects, all with murderous faces. Even with Maeve ripping them to pieces, they’d overwhelm everyone in moments.

  From the side of her eye, she spotted another guard and whirled toward him, but his hands streaked for her face. A s
pear took him in the side, and he lurched into a tree. Laret turned to see a blond woman staring at her before Dain’s cry had her spinning away again. He’d fallen under a host of attackers. Laret rushed to help him, but several women piled on the guards, hacking and stabbing.

  Laret knelt next to them all and pulled Dain away. Warriors flitted among the guards with Gilka bellowing orders as she bashed in heads, a grim look upon her face.

  “Come on!” Laret dragged Dain toward Maeve, hoping to return her to her normal self so they could escape, but Runa strode in the same direction.

  “Don’t hurt her!” Laret called as she began to run.

  Maeve turned on Runa, jaws open, but Runa flung a hand out. Maeve shuddered and curled into a ball, her form growing hazy and human before Laret could begin another chant. Laret slid to her side, glaring at Runa, who glared right back.

  “Don’t even think it, blood witch, or I’ll break your mind just as I broke her wyrd.”

  Laret watched her closely while Dain stood over them. Maeve blinked as if trying to ward away fatigue, her face and body smeared with blood. She retched several times, only beginning to recover when the fight was done, and Gilka strode toward them.

  Gilka tossed Maeve’s clothes at her feet. “Well, isn’t this a sight? I always called Aesa bear cub. Guess I had the wrong one, eh? Pity your second skin didn’t come earlier. You’d have made a fine addition to my crew.”

  Laret swallowed. “Lucky you arrived when you did.”

  “After your loud conversation in the woods, we were hoping to follow you, but we couldn’t do that if you died.”

  Laret fought the urge to blush. Gilka’s crews had been following them, and Laret hadn’t noticed any of them? She told herself they were simply better at deception.

  Gilka eyed them all, one by one, as Laret stood and helped Maeve dress. “Ulfrecht’s crew,” Gilka said, pointing to Dain. “What were you hoping to do out here?”

  He lifted his chin and said nothing. Gilka grinned and rubbed her lips with her knuckles.

  “That magic pulse,” Runa said, “what was it?”

  “Nothing we did,” Laret said. “We were trying to follow it to its source.”

  Gilka nodded slowly. “And Aesa?”

  “We came looking for her,” Maeve said.

  “To see that your curse remains intact?”

  Laret bristled. “I know you’re not blind, Gilka. My unlined cheeks prove that I’ve never cursed anyone.”

  “So, Ulfrecht’s here, after all his talk of leaving the island alone. Where is he now?”

  Dain licked his lips and still said nothing. Loyalty to his thrain, Laret supposed, but she had no such loyalty, not to anyone but Maeve and the guilt that made her anxious to help Aesa.

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” Laret said.

  “Laret—” Dain started.

  Gilka’s fist lashed out, too fast to follow, and Dain was on the ground, mouth bleeding.

  Laret swallowed hard. “Ulfrecht believes there are sleeping houri—fae, as you call them—that will be awakened if you linger here.” She told them all of what Ari had told her, about the underground city and the magic Ari seemed acquainted with.

  “I know Ulfrecht’s tales of the fae,” Gilka said. “He told me his concerns. He also attacked the village where I left my supplies, an act he’ll pay for. Where is he now?”

  Laret shook her head. “I can only tell you what happened until we escaped.” She lifted her chin. “And I did nothing to Aesa, save fall in love with her bondmate.” Maeve clenched her hand. “Even then, I didn’t seek to break them apart. I would have found a way to live with Aesa if she wished for the same.”

  Gilka rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about who’s fucking who. You expect me to believe that Ulfrecht brought you here but not as his ally?”

  “If I were a true ally of Ulfrecht’s, wouldn’t I be as silent as Dain? He’s only helping us because he’s also Aesa’s kinsman.”

  “Aren’t you worried that Ulfrecht might be right about the fae?” Maeve asked.

  Gilka smiled slowly. “Worried? If there are fae here, I’d like to test myself against them, find out what all the fuss is about.”

  “All we want is to get Aesa and go home,” Laret said.

  Maeve coughed, and Laret widened her eyes, trying to warn her not to speak, but Maeve’s glance slid away.

  “I’d like to free the fini, the sheep,” Maeve said.

  Laret fought the urge to groan as Gilka’s heavy gaze settled on Maeve again.

  “Now that I’ve seen them,” Maeve said. “I don’t know how I could feel any differently.”

  “So.” Gilka looked to Runa. “Either this one has been infected by this place as well…”

  “Or Aesa has felt this way all along, and the magic of Fernagher had nothing to do with it,” Runa said.

  Gilka nodded, and her hand dropped toward her hammer.

  “Aesa’s wishes for the sheep are part of her,” Maeve said hurriedly. “She remembers the lessons of childhood: that one can be more than a thrall, and now she sees potential in everyone. It’s just who she is!”

  Gilka stepped forward so quickly, Laret leaned back, but Maeve held her ground. “I know who she is, witch. I looked into her eyes at the Thraindahl. I know a warrior who wants to be at the heart of a tale when I see one.”

  Maeve seemed so still, Laret wondered if she even breathed. “Freeing a land of people from an ancient curse? Fighting the fae? Risking life and limb, risking her future with her thrain, all for a beautiful woman? Has there ever been a better basis for a tale than that?”

  Gilka smiled slowly. “You have a point.”

  “If Aesa had known Ulfrecht had come here to harry you, she wouldn’t have left your side.”

  Laret didn’t know if that was true, but she wasn’t going to argue the point in front of Gilka.

  “I’m betting Ulfrecht will want to seek out the same magic you witches felt,” Gilka said. “And he has his own blood witch to lead him there.” She looked to Laret again. “Runa guessed that was the reason you could feel the magic when no one else could. The few members of Ulfrecht’s crew we captured also said that Ulfrecht’s blood witch has some knowledge of the fae.”

  Dain stood slowly. “You captured some of the crew? Where are they?”

  Gilka’s fingers played along the head of her hammer. “Would you like to see them?”

  Dain wisely held his tongue. Gilka gestured to the forest. “When we’re all together again, I’ll sort out who lives and who dies. For now, who knows which of you might prove useful?”

  Laret cleared her throat, wondering what else she could say that might keep them alive. She decided to keep secret the fact that Ari had cursed some of Ulfrecht’s crew, maybe even Ulfrecht himself. She’d hold that in reserve until it seemed as if Gilka was thinking of killing them again. Maybe then she’d decide that having a blood witch on her side was the only logical course.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The shapti caught Aesa in the side, nearly throwing her down the steps. His face had gone feral, lips snarling, eyes filled with rage. She twisted, sending him stumbling past, but he hurled himself up the steps again.

  Aesa launched a kick to his knee that sent him to the floor. Ell probably wouldn’t appreciate it if she killed him. Behind her, rotten Chezzo began barking as if he too had lost his mind. Aesa threw herself against the wall and brought her sword up, but Chezzo bounded past, down the stairs.

  The shapti grabbed for her again, limping, crawling. She pointed her sword. “Stay down!”

  He didn’t even blink but drooled and gibbered, more dog-like than Chezzo. She thumped him on the head with her pommel, and at last he fell. Aesa turned, looking for Ell, but there was only the crowd of fini, one of whom pushed past her to try to help the shapti to his feet. On the cavern floor, Chezzo still barked, the noise echoing weirdly into hundreds of sounds. Aesa peered over the side of the stairs.

  *

 
; The surface of the pool bowed when Ell hit, as if she’d fallen onto a blanket held by many hands, but then the thickness had broken like milk skin, and she sank into suffocating warmth.

  She clawed for the surface, panic beating in her chest, but fear fled quickly, taken by a myriad of emotions that swirled through the dark. She fought the urge to lose herself, but joy and sorrow and rage beat at her like a hammer.

  Up or down became a mystery. Her right foot brushed something, and she lunged for it, but whether to rip it apart, cling to it, or embrace it, she didn’t know. Smooth and warm, it had the texture of flesh, and she jerked away as a knife of fear seized her heart.

  Something grabbed the back of her robe and pulled. She tried to tear away, but something else grabbed her shoulders, her arms, her hair. She screamed into liquid too thick to bubble, the sounds dying in her throat as the fluid sought to pour in.

  The cool air of the subterranean cave surrounded her, then, and she shuddered in fini arms. Aesa tried to wipe the fluid from her face, but she kicked backward, trying to rid herself of feelings that weren’t hers, sensations that belonged to someone else, many people, too many.

  “Ell!” Aesa captured her cheeks. Staring into eyes so intense, so certain of who they were, calmed her. She forced herself to breathe, but her heart pounded so, and she couldn’t get enough air. The fini blinked or shook their heads. Two had fallen unconscious on the floor. Chezzo stood to the side, whining, head swinging between her and the stairs, where Niall lay unmoving.

  “What was that? What was that?” Wil said, over and over, and she remembered that he’d been longest without the calming pools. “I haven’t…it’s been…I was a child once.” He swayed as if he too fought the black spots.

  Ell sat up slowly, trying to hold on to her own mind. “You must breathe deeply. Let the other thoughts fall away.” She scratched Chezzo behind his ears until he quieted.