Morne’s gaze dropped, as though he could see Dais’s weapon. That sly, taunting smile returned, and Morne said, “You going to use that on me, Dais? Have you got the spine for it?”
Oh, yes. Dais had the spine for it. But before he could draw the weapon, nature decided to shake things up a bit. The quakes hit hard and fast, and thunderheads stacked up in the sky high overhead. Static electricity built in the air, charging it until Dais could feel the hair rising on his arms in response.
The earth shuddered and pitched, and Dais hit the ground rolling. He kept rolling until he came up against the sturdy, ugly fabric that made up the temporary medicon. He used his pulsar to burn a hole in it and crawl out. From the corner of his eye, he saw Morne, but the healer wasn’t coming after Dais. He was crouched over Lee’s body, protecting her as the earth shook around them.
Dais would have a few minutes. It just might be enough. He wouldn’t be able to take Lee with him, but perhaps the knowledge of her existence would be enough.
One thing was certain, his time here was done. Morne had seen to that.
From behind, Morne watched as Dais disappeared through the hole. He slithered away like the snake he was, and Morne was trapped there, protecting Lee’s body with his own as supplies went flying around them. The waterproofed canvas fell down over them as the support poles shook free from the earth.
One of them struck him low on the back, and he grimaced, braced his weight on one hand and reached behind him to grab the pole and throw it aside. Then he went back to shielding Lee’s body. To his left, small glass vials came raining down from the shelves. Outside he heard a tree branch break and he swore, bracing for the impact, but when it hit, it hit far off to the west. A faint smile curled his lips. Maybe they’d gotten lucky and the tree limb had fallen square on top of Dais’s head.
Faintly, he heard yells. A few curses. No screams, though, and the voices outside sounded more frustrated and pissed than worried or hurt. No major injuries . . . good. Morne’s priority was going to be getting Lee out of her drugged stupor so he could turn her over to Kalen’s capable hands.
Then he was going after Dais, and he was going to slowly peel the man’s skin from his flesh.
The trembling in the earth finally eased up. Morne remained in position over Lee’s body for a few more minutes, until he was sure the quakes were over. The quakes passed, but Morne knew it wasn’t over yet. He could hear thunder crack overhead, and rain started pelting down around them. As he cut himself and Lee free from the material, rain quickly soaked them through.
Behind him, he heard the sounds of people coming toward them, hard and fast. Kalen was the first to reach the tent, and Morne pulled away as Kalen reached for her. “She’s fine. Just unconscious.”
“Fine?” Kalen snarled. He rested his hand over her neck, and the slow, steady beat of her heart did little to ease the panic clutching at his gut. “Where are the guards I left on her tent?”
Morne gave him a grim look. “Dead, I imagine.”
Kalen swore hot and furious. “Damn it, even nature won’t give us a break.”
“It wasn’t nature that killed them,” Morne murmured. “At least, I don’t think it was. There were no guards at her door when I came to check on her.”
Understanding came, followed close by fury. “No Sirvani could enter my camp without us knowing. No demon.” They had lost much of their firepower when Eira died, but magick wasn’t completely lost to them. Aside from Lee, they still had a few witches with a weak talent—weak, but highly trained. Over the years, all of the witches had trained with Eira, and part of that training involved adding to the layers of traps and magickal alarms that lay just below the surface of the earth. Like a spider’s web, they spread throughout all of the land, and a physical intrusion was sensed by the witches, and some of the more talented psychics.
They couldn’t refine enough to sense any and every last ripple of the Veil. Many of the witches could train their entire lives without gaining Veil sight. But a physical intrusion Kalen’s forces would have felt. Morne, damn him, stood there with those unreadable, opaque eyes, but Kalen knew there was something Morne hadn’t told him yet.
Morne glanced around and then beckoned to Kalen, leading him a few feet away from the ruin of the small medic tent. They could get no true privacy without leaving, and Kalen wasn’t about to carry Lee from the supposed safety of the camp. Even if she was guarded by an army of angels at this point. Bitter, he wondered if he could protect her at all. He should have known that power of hers would call out to any and every talented bastard out there. Dry leaves, broken branches and debris crunched underfoot, and Kalen shifted Lee’s unconscious body in his arms. “What’s going on, Morne?”
“We’ve long suspected that there was somebody in the army feeding information to the Warlords. We thought perhaps it was somebody under the control of a Raviner.” Morne’s gaze roamed restlessly along the tree line, as though he searched for somebody. “It was Dais.”
“What?” Kalen sputtered.
Morne’s gaze dropped to Lee’s still body. “Perhaps you should lay her down. ”
“Like hell.” If it was possible, Kalen would have held her closer. “What are you talking about with Dais? There’s just no way . . .” His voice trailed off as he stared into Morne’s eyes.
They glowed with a barely banked fury, and red flags of color rode high on the man’s pale face. “He summoned a Warlord. A Warlord that was lifting a gate to come and take your Lee away. I stood and watched. Do not tell me there is no way.”
“No.” Kalen shook his head. He turned away from Morne and looked down into Lee’s slack face. He pressed his lips to her cheek. She breathed out, a soft sighing sound, and Kalen caught the faint sweet scent of the kifer weed. She’d been drugged. Kifer weed was a powerful muscle relaxant—somebody had given it to her, used it to render her unconscious and helpless. Helpless.
A soft growl of rage rumbled in his throat, and he turned just a little, looked back at Morne. “You saw Dais.”
Morne responded, “I saw him.” He paused for a moment, his eyes closing as he blew out a controlled breath. It was as though he did that hoping to contain the rage Kalen sensed was moving through him. “I don’t know . . .”
Kalen shook his head. “I don’t need to know anything else.” Fury and the bitterness of betrayal simmered deep inside, but Kalen wasn’t going to let them take control. Not now. Dais had been one of his most trusted men, and there was very little Kalen hadn’t shared with him. They were going to have to close ranks, hard and fast. They had to move to another secure area, and that was going to be risky. There were no secure areas that Dais hadn’t known about.
He rubbed his cheek against Lee’s soft curls. “I need her awake, Morne.”
Morne nodded. He gestured back to the ruin of the medic shelter. “There is probably some moon-seal. It will make her nauseated for a time, but it will chase the drug from her system.”
“Let’s do it.”
While Morne tended to the business of bringing Lee out of her drugged slumber, Kalen watched from a few feet away. Gathering his men around him, he sent a party of ten into the woods to search for the missing guards. Another small troop was assigned to go through and give the orders to break camp. People were already searching for injured and collecting everything that could be salvaged from the quakes.
He heard a soft moan and looked over at Lee. Morne stood over her, and when Kalen approached, the other man backed away. Kalen glanced out toward the camp. “Make sure nobody needs serious healing. We leave here within two hours.”
It took less than an hour and a half. The missing guards were found in a fraction of that time. One had been attacked straight-on, his skull caved in. No defensive wounds on him, and Kalen knew why. He’d known his attacker and hadn’t been on his guard. Probably left his position to take a piss, and Dais had been waiting for just such an opportunity.
The second guard was on the eastern side of camp, his throat
a gaping, bloody wound, slit from ear to ear. “Dais probably sent him out to find his partner and followed him,” Morne murmured as he rose from his study of the body.
Kalen blew out a harsh breath. It was still so hard to grasp, the knowledge that Dais had been betraying him for years. But the old warrior was nowhere to be found, and a check of his tent revealed that most of his clothing and all of his weapons were gone. Three scouts reported having seen him running through the woods heading westward, as the quakes rumbled the earth.
Two troops had also seen him, leaving camp. But nobody had thought anything of it. Why should they? Dais was one of their leaders, exceeded in command only by Morne and Kalen. Kalen wanted to hit something. No. Not something. Someone. Dais. He wanted to pound the man bloody and then have Morne heal him so he could do it all over again.
Unfortunately, there was no time for it.
People rushed all around. It was organized pandemonium. They had spent enough time on training and drills that it was all second nature. He crossed over to Lee’s side, distantly aware of somebody throwing water on the camp-fire Kalen had just left. Wood sizzled and smoke wrapped around his ankles, its acrid scent filling his nostrils. He crouched by Lee’s side and reached out, running his fingers through her tangled hair. “We have to leave. How do you feel?”
She didn’t move at all. Yet Kalen could feel her withdrawal all the same. She wouldn’t look at him as she responded, “Fine.”
“You’re angry with me,” he whispered softly. “I know you are and I can’t blame you. I—”
Lee’s blue eyes briefly met his and then she looked away. “I’m not angry with you.”
“Then what is wrong?” Kalen asked, keeping his voice low. He glanced around and cursed their total lack of privacy. Nothing to be done for it. He eased a little closer and cupped her face in his hand. “You haven’t said more than three words to me. You won’t look at me. I don’t blame you for being angry—I promised I’d keep you safe and then one of my own men tried to hurt you.”
“What Dais did isn’t your fault,” Lee said. She shifted on the bedding, wincing a little. She started to push up, and Kalen slid an arm under her, easing her the rest of the way up. For one brief second, she leaned against him, but then she moved away until there was a good six inches between them. “Dais is responsible for his actions, Kalen. Not you.”
“He was under my command. He was a traitor and I never knew.” Then he shook his head. “I am responsible and it’s something I’ll deal with. But if you aren’t angry . . .” He covered her hand with his, lifted it and pressed a kiss to the inside of her palm. “Why do I feel like you’re not really here with me?”
Lee quirked a brow at him and smiled. It was a forced smile, though. It never reached her eyes, and her voice was flat as she murmured, “I am right here.”
Frustrated, Kalen blew out a breath. There was a wall between them now and he wanted nothing more than to tear it down. But first he was going to get her to someplace safe. His people to somewhere safe. Once he did that, he would focus his attention on finding Dais and gutting him, on securing the line and waiting for reinforcements—bloody hell, the way things looked now, it could be another couple of months, if ever, before they were safe and he could devote some time to finding out why Lee was pulling away.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore. Somebody called his name, and he looked up to see Roshan, one of his men, standing by the funeral pyre that had been built for the guards Dais had murdered. Eve, one of his witches, stood waiting to burn the pyre in a quick, controlled burn. Once she had put the flames out, they would leave.
Kalen didn’t even have two minutes to spend with his woman and try to undo the damage Dais’s betrayal had caused. The spiraling sense of helplessness and futility grew large enough that it felt like he was choking on it. But instead of trying to get through that distant wall, he leaned forward, hooked a hand over the back of Lee’s neck. Kalen pulled her against him and kissed her, fast, hard and deep, taking in as much of her taste as he could, as quick as he could. “I love you,” he muttered, pulling away just enough that he could say the words against her lips. “I love you and I haven’t waited this long for you only to lose you now.”
Then he stood and stalked off, leaving Lee behind him.
Miserable, Lee closed her eyes. She lifted a hand and touched her lips. They seemed to burn from the brief contact with his. Sobs built inside her chest, and Lee could barely breathe around them. She wasn’t going to cry, though. Not yet. There was no time for it.
The army moved in a quick, controlled fashion, speaking very little, never once pausing. Even the dead were dealt with economically. Lee lost track of all the people who paused very briefly by the funeral pyre, and once it was set to flames, only Kalen and some witch Lee didn’t know remained by the burning bodies.
They were leaving—because of Dais. Lee had pieced together what had happened through little bits and pieces of her memories and snippets of overheard conversation. Dais was a traitor. She vaguely remembered him coming into the tent, but not much after that. He’d drugged her and was getting ready to take her to her father. Everything felt foggy and her gut churned. Her head pounded from the drugs in her system. Morne had given her something that was basically a chaser, flushing the debilitating drug Dais had given her out of her system. She felt mostly better physically and she could move, but she wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.
Morne’s treatment had also left her head painfully clear.
Clear enough that she realized how much pain could have been avoided if Dais had succeeded. If he had gotten her into Anqar, her father would have left Kalen’s world alone.
Maybe he still would. Lee was going to have to bide her time, but if she was careful, she could slip away from her guards. All she would need was a few minutes. She could raise the Veil. Maybe she could even force a gate up. She was, after all, a Warlord’s daughter, and when she had watched her father construct that gate, something inside her had recognized and understood what he was doing.
Get to him before he unleashed his armies on Kalen’s world. Get to him before he could kill anybody else. A cold fist of pain wrapped itself around her heart as Lee watched Kalen. His long hair was pulled back from his face, exposing the clean, almost harsh lines. His eyes were focused, intent. Occasionally, he’d glance her way and she’d see either guilt, rage or a yearning that shook her to the core.
She wasn’t going to see that look again. Tears blurred her vision as she let herself acknowledge that. She’d spent years waiting to find him, and now after just a few brief weeks, her time with him was over. Lee wouldn’t ever lie under him again and feel that strong, sleek body moving over her, moving within her. She wouldn’t stare into that quicksilver gaze and see her own need reflecting back at her.
This isn’t fair, she thought bitterly. Everything that had happened, everything she had learned and everything they had gone through, and the only way she could save them was to turn herself over to a man who was going to lock her in a silk cage and throw away the key.
One life—she closed her eyes and tried to make herself focus on something other than what lay before her. If her life was what it took to save Kalen’s world, then that wasn’t such a big price to pay, right?
“What is going on in that head of yours?”
Lee looked up into Morne’s eyes. She didn’t bother responding. She focused on bolstering her mental shields, keeping him from sensing her emotions. It was easier now than it had been before, even with the pain and nausea dancing throughout her system. Figures. Just when she finally started to get a handle on all the weird abilities, it was all going to hell.
Or she was. After all, what else could Anqar be? A hot, dusty place filled with demons, wyrms and men who had complete and utter control over her life. Yeah, that sounded like hell, all right.
“You think those damn shields will keep me from knowing what’s going on inside your head?” Morne murmured. He crouched down in front of he
r and waited until she looked at him. “Do I have to tell Kalen what really happened when I found you speaking with the Warlord? Do you want him to know how close you came to getting captured?”
She glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”
Morne coolly replied, “Then do not give me reason.”
She looked away. “I’m going to do whatever I have to, Morne. That’s what we do, right?”
Long, narrow fingers closed around her wrist and she looked down, staring at the way his big hand manacled her there. Then she looked up at him. “Yes, Lelia,” Morne said in a voice devoid of emotion. “That is what we do. And I’ll do what I have to—even if that means finding some hole in the ground and throwing you in there until I know it’s safe to let you out.”
Lee leaned forward and whispered, “Morne, try it and I’ll shave you bald while you sleep.” Then she jerked and twisted her wrist. He let go, but she had the bad feeling he did it only because he felt like it.
He glanced down at the long, pale hair spilling over his shoulders. “I’ve had that experience before. A bit cold in the winter, perhaps, but nothing I can’t deal with.” He stood and tapped a finger against her nose. “Remember what I said, Lee. I will tell Kalen. If he doesn’t wring your neck, it will be nothing short of a miracle.”
“A Daisha.”
Dais fought the urge to roll his eyes as the Warlord continued to murmur to himself. From what Dais could tell, everything in Anqar was in upheaval. Wisely, Dais hadn’t mentioned a word of what he had seen the last time he had peered through the Veil. He didn’t know if they had Char’s killer and he didn’t care. All he cared about was securing the trust of a Warlord strong enough to bring him over.
The backfire from the previous gate’s rise and fall had finally settled, and it would be safe to lift the large, central gate. Dais planned on being front and center when it opened. He was leaving this harsh, godforsaken land and going to a place where a man of his talents was appreciated. Appreciated with lots of liquor, lots of gold, warm soft beds and warm soft women.
Through the Veil Page 29
