Captive

by A. D. Robertson

  The bear, which had been hidden behind a huge fallen tree trunk, lumbered into view. Spittle flew from its muzzle as it roared its fury at the Searchers.

  With a single swipe of its enormous paw, Patrice went flying. Her body slammed into a tree and she fell to the ground, horribly still.

  Sarah had already drawn her throwing knives. She launched the blades at the Guardian, and the bear, still focused on Patrice, didn’t have the chance to parry Sarah’s attack.

  The blades buried themselves in the bear’s chest and it bellowed in pain, dropping to all fours.

  Sarah drew two more knives, hurling them as the bear charged. The first hit home, sinking into the bear’s shoulder. But the second flew wide.

  The huge Guardian was coming straight at her. Sarah crouched, muscles coiling, and when the bear was a foot away Sarah leaped into the air, tumbling head over heels and landing behind the Guardian.

  The bear’s momentum had been too great to instantly wheel around, giving Sarah the chance to sink two more knives into its flank. The bear turned and again bellowed its rage at her.

  At that moment Sarah would have given her right hand for Patrice’s sword. Her knives, while they could be deadly, weren’t causing enough damage to take the Guardian down.

  She had only one way to really cripple it, and she knew that acrobatics wouldn’t save her from the bear’s attack a second time. Sarah drew her knives and waited for the bear to drop to all fours.

  The second it did, and before it could charge, Sarah sucked in a quick breath and let fly with a knife, praying that it would hit home.

  The blade buried itself in the bear’s left eye. The Guardian roared in agony, raising a massive paw to swat at the blade. Sarah used the distraction to throw a second knife. That blade met its mark as well, burying itself in the Guardian’s right eye, blinding the beast. The bear made a sound almost like a wail and stood on its hind legs.

  Sarah turned from the Guardian and ran to Patrice. When she put her hand on the Guide’s shoulder, Patrice groaned and opened her eyes.

  “We have to get out of here,” Sarah told her. “Can you walk?”

  Patrice nodded. “Nothing’s broken.”

  Sarah helped her up. They didn’t make it back to the cavern as swiftly as Sarah would have liked. Patrice was clearly concussed and Sarah had to help her down the mountain slope.

  When they reached the narrow opening to the cave, Sarah attached the stashed climbing rope to Patrice’s harness.

  “Coming down!” Sarah called to Anika and Jeremy. “Open a door!”

  After she’d lowered Patrice, Sarah used the same root to climb back into the cavern. Making her way along the web of roots to her grappling gun, Sarah clipped it to her harness and set the mechanism to reverse.

  The cable spooled out smoothly and soon Sarah’s feet touched the ground.

  Jeremy had the portal open by the time Sarah reached the cavern floor.

  The Weaver had already taken Patrice through the shimmering door.

  “You first,” Anika said.

  Sarah didn’t argue. Heart racing, she rushed through the portal. She turned as soon as she was back in Haldis Tactical and was relieved to see Anika emerge from the light-filled door just seconds later.

  As soon as Anika appeared, Jeremy closed the door.

  “Good work, team,” Patrice said, her smile genuine if a bit strained. “Good work.”

  2

  NEVER WOULD SARAH have thought that simply meeting her best friend’s gaze could compel her to reach for one of her daggers, but in that particular moment she found her fingers twitching toward the blade’s hilt. Across the table, Anika shifted her weight against the back of her chair but didn’t flinch from Sarah’s glare.

  Strikers lined both sides of the long, narrow table, the warriors’ stares fixed on Anika and Sarah. Since Sarah had joined their ranks five years earlier, at age sixteen, she’d come to expect these monthly mission debriefings with the Arrow—the Searchers’ commander-at-arms—to be raucous, bordering on irreverent. Strikers were fighters at heart, perpetually restless, and didn’t take well to being cooped up in a meeting for hours at a time.

  Thus, the stunned silence currently holding her peers hostage made Sarah even more furious.

  At the head of the table, Micah, the current Arrow, cleared his throat.

  “Thank you for your candor, Anika.” Micah’s gaze shifted to Patrice, the Tordis Guide and Sarah’s immediate superior. “Patrice, since your team retrieved this intelligence and this will be your mission, I’ll let you make the call.”

  Patrice was frowning. She glanced at Anika but soon found Sarah’s questioning eyes.

  “Despite Anika’s concerns, Sarah performed exceptionally on our mission. She knows the risk and is the best Searcher for this task,” Patrice said. “If she wants the mission, I say it’s hers.”

  “Thank you, Patrice,” Sarah replied. She could feel Anika’s stare, but she kept her gaze on their Guide.

  Murmurs ranging in tone from surprise to admiration rippled through the Striker ranks. To Sarah’s relief Anika stayed silent.

  Micah nodded his approval. “Report back to Haldis Tactical at sixteen hundred hours. A Weaver will be there to open a door for you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Sarah replied.

  “That will be all,” Micah said to the group. “Return to your posts.”

  Wood creaked and groaned as chairs were pushed back from the long table. Warriors clad in leather and wearing grim faces responded to the Arrow’s command without hesitation.

  As they milled toward the exit none of the other Strikers crowded Sarah. A few glanced in her direction, offering brief nods of encouragement. That she’d accepted the mission didn’t merit hoots of congratulation or slaps on the back to raise her spirits. Those would come later . . . if she made it out alive. For now, her send-off would be little more than a reserved approval of her choice.

  If it had been any other gathering of Strikers and their Guides—a debriefing wherein each Guide made a report of the current Keeper activities in the target zones: Haldis in Vail, Tordis in the Alps, Eydis in Mexico, and Pyralis in New Zealand—Sarah would have left the room with Anika at her side. On their way back to the Tordis division of the Roving Academy, the two women would share their own review of the meeting, speculating about the Arrow’s stratagem and making bets about the Keepers’ next move.

  Speculation and projection were about all the Searchers had to go on of late. The war hardly deserved to be called such. Striker missions had all but ground to a halt. Barring the occasional scuffle between one of their teams and a Guardian pack near the Keepers’ protected sites, a lull had overtaken the Roving Academy. The Academy’s teachers still trained Searcher youth, conveying a sense of the war’s urgency and the vital purpose that they all served. But outside of the classrooms an ambivalence about the war had overtaken her colleagues. The Searchers had been bleeding and dying for centuries in the hopes that somehow they would find a weak spot in the Keepers’ armor of dark magic. But the years kept turning and each generation of Searchers fought and died while new warriors were trained and new scholars combed the Tordis Archives for arcane wisdom that might give the Strikers an upper hand.

  The Alchemists of Pyralis painted Searcher weapons with potent enchantments that helped Strikers fight the Keepers’ powerful Guardians and when the warriors returned to the Roving Academy bleeding and broken, the Elixirs of Eydis healed their wounds. With each passing year, the Searchers honed their skills, drawing on the elemental magics of their home: Earth, Air, Water, Fire—Haldis, Tordis, Eydis, and Pyralis. But no matter the innovations, no matter the fervor of their efforts, the Searchers had yet to gain any advantage over their adversary.

  And that was why Sarah had volunteered for this mission. She had watched Anika breeze ou
t of Haldis Tactical without a glance in Sarah’s direction. Rising from her chair, Sarah walked at a brisk clip, quickly gaining on her friend. Sarah waited until Anika was passing an open door. Her hand snaked out and Sarah grabbed Anika by the elbow, dragged her into the empty lecture room, and slammed the door behind them.

  “Don’t you ever, ever question my abilities in front of our Guide!” Sarah gripped Anika’s arm tightly. “Not to mention the Arrow! And every Striker who is not currently out on a field assignment!”

  “I wasn’t questioning your abilities.” Anika wrenched herself free of Sarah’s grasp. “I was merely pointing out your youth. You should take it as a compliment.”

  “All of the Strikers were there,” Sarah went on, shaking her fist at Anika. “All of the teams.”

  “I know,” Anika replied tartly. “I was there too.”

  “Then why the hell did you try to embarrass me?” Sarah gave Anika a shove that ended up being a little harder than she’d intended.

  Anika teetered back but didn’t stumble. And a moment later she shoved Sarah with equal force. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m trying to save your life.”

  “We don’t even know what’s at the castle,” Sarah countered. “It might be nothing. I’m just going to check it out.”

  “It doesn’t have to be you.”

  Sarah could barely keep from scowling at her friend. “I’m the best climber of all the Strikers. And I kicked all of your asses at stealth infiltration. If Micah didn’t know I was suited for the job, he wouldn’t have let me volunteer.”

  “He shouldn’t have let anyone sign on for this suicide run,” Anika snapped. “It’s too big a risk with no guaranteed outcome.”

  “When do our missions ever have guaranteed outcomes?” Sarah shot back.

  Anika offered no rebuke other than a sullen gaze.

  “The war is at a stalemate,” Sarah continued. “If Micah thinks this could be the key to turning the tide, I’m in. And you should have my back.”

  “Micah and the Guides have gone loony, if you ask me,” Anika said. “A new directive from the Scribes and they’re clinging to thin air.”

  “The prophecy is not thin air,” Sarah said, but she turned her back on Anika and paced beside the door, worried that any hint of doubt might appear on her face. “It’s all we have.”

  “Some warrior chick from way back when sacrifices herself for the cause,” Anika propped herself against the desk at the front of the room. “And her ghost—her ghost, mind you—spouts a few nonsensical lines about a traitor and a child and a miraculous weapon and we stake our lives on it?”

  “What else do you think we can do?” Sarah gripped the back of one of the classroom chairs. “We can’t kill wraiths, and Guardians might die, but they don’t die easy. The prophecy is the only thing that points to a way to end this war.”

  Anika frowned, pushing herself up until she was seated on the desk. “Do you ever wonder if the prophecy was just made up?”

  “Made up?”

  “To keep us going,” Anika replied waspishly. “To give us something to fight for so we don’t just decide it’s all futile and give up.”

  Sarah didn’t know whether the cold knot in her belly was a manifestation of fury or fear. “You don’t really believe that.”

  “Not really.” Anika’s shoulders slumped. “But sometimes I wonder. Sometimes it all feels like too much.”

  Sarah nodded, some of her hostility ebbing. “We’re all under stress. Fighting so long with no sense of victory—it is too much.”

  Anika didn’t meet Sarah’s gaze, but she nodded in reply.

  “And that’s why I have to go,” Sarah said, pushing her point. “If I can bring us anything new, anything to help us learn what the Keepers know about the prophecy, it could make all the difference. It could put us ahead of them for the first time.”

  “I know,” Anika said softly. “I just wish it wasn’t you.”

  Her words and defeated tone snuffed out the last embers of Sarah’s anger. Crossing over to Anika, Sarah wrapped her arms around the other woman.

  “Micah wouldn’t send me or anyone on this mission if he thought there was no chance of its success.” Sarah squeezed Anika tightly.

  “Just promise me that you’ll stick to the plan,” Anika murmured into Sarah’s shoulder. “Once you know what’s at that castle, get the hell out of there. Don’t get creative.”

  “I promise.” Sarah laughed. “I can’t imagine I’d have any reason to stick around some Keeper’s lair.”

  “‘Lair’?” Anika’s laughter joined Sarah’s. “Oooh, maybe you’ll find a dragon.”

  “If the Keepers have added dragons to their arsenal, I think we’re in trouble.” Sarah pulled away from her friend but beckoned Anika to the door. “Come on. I need to hand-sharpen my daggers before I go off to live a life of danger and excitement.”

  “I’d take a dragon over a wraith any day,” Anika remarked as they left the classroom. “A dragon might be big and fire-breathing, but at least it has flesh and bone that you can stick a sword into.”

  “Good point.” Sarah smiled, but her chest constricted.

  Whatever was locked up in Castle Tierney was important enough that the Keepers had tried to prevent their enemies from discovering both the location of the hiding place and what was hidden. Would Sarah climb the stone walls only to stumble upon a monster? Something worse?

  Shrugging away the gooseflesh that crawled up her arms, Sarah stowed her trepidation. There was no sense of being afraid of what she’d find in the Keeper fortress until she actually found it.

  “There you are.” Jeremy smiled in relief as he ran up to meet Sarah and Anika.

  “Oh, good,” Anika said. “You might be able to talk her out of this.”

  “Just drop it, Anika.” Sarah felt renewed annoyance with her friend. The issue was settled, and all Sarah wanted was for Anika to leave it alone.

  “I . . . uh . . .” Jeremy’s gaze shifted from Anika to Sarah. “I was hoping we could talk before you left.”

  “Uh-huh.” Anika smirked. “You two talk. I’ll get out of here.”

  Anika stalked off and Sarah offered Jeremy an apologetic smile.

  “She only did it because she cares about you,” Jeremy said.

  “I know,” Sarah told him. “But I’m still pissed.”

  Jeremy laughed, but then he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously on edge. “So, um, can we go somewhere? So we can talk alone?”

  “Sure.” Sarah felt her pulse jump up a couple of notches. “Your room? It’s closest.”

  Jeremy nodded. He took Sarah’s hand as they walked down the hall. Sarah wasn’t sure she liked it—at least not when other Searchers could see them. She worried that it might make her look frightened, and she didn’t want any of her fellow warriors to think she was having second thoughts about taking on the mission.

  Fortunately, they made it to Jeremy’s room without any awkward encounters.

  Once they were inside and the door was closed, Jeremy grabbed Sarah and kissed her hard. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the kiss caught Sarah off guard. Under normal circumstances, Jeremy wasn’t so aggressive. This kiss wanted to devour her. Sarah responded as best she could, though her mind was reeling.

  Where does he want to take this?

  Jeremy broke from the kiss. “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that ever since we got back from the mission. And you’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah. The debriefing took a while.” Sarah disentangled herself from Jeremy’s arms and crossed the room, unintentionally putting herself beside his bed.

  Jeremy came up behind her. His arms encircled Sarah’s waist and he drew her back against him.

  Sarah gave a little gasp. God, he’s hard.

  “I want you.”
Jeremy breathed into her hair. “Sarah, before you go, I want to be with you.”

  Sarah turned in his arms so she could face him. Her heart was pounding. Messing around with Jeremy was one thing, but this?

  She liked the Weaver . . . more than liked. He was sweet and funny and damn good with his hands.

  Jeremy bent his head and kissed Sarah again, this time softly, coaxing Sarah’s lips apart. His tongue slipped into her mouth and Sarah’s blood began to heat her skin. Jeremy backed Sarah into the bed and she let him push her down onto the mattress.

  Why not? If Anika’s right and this is a suicide mission, I’ll die a virgin.

  Her body wanted it enough. As Jeremy pulled Sarah’s shirt off and cupped her breasts, Sarah’s nipples hardened and her back arched.

  “Take your bra off,” Jeremy said. “Show them to me.”

  Sarah reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. She could feel how heavy they’d grown, sensitive with desire and aching to be touched.

  Sliding her bra straps off her shoulders, Sarah pushed the lacy cups aside. Jeremy moaned and lowered his head, taking one of her nipples in his mouth while his hand kneaded her other breast.

  Sarah’s hips arched up as desire pooled low in her body. Feeling her response, Jeremy moved his hand from her breast to cup the heat between her legs. His fingers massaged Sarah’s clit through her clothing and Sarah made a small sound of pleasure as her hips bucked up against his hand.

  “God, Sarah.” Jeremy kissed her neck. Her cheek. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  Sarah nodded. She was already tense from the meeting, from the fight with Anika, from the knowledge of how dangerous her mission would be. She needed release.

  “Get your cock out.”

  Jeremy groaned and reached down to unzip his fly. Sarah’s hand followed his. When his fly was open she slipped her hand inside his boxers and grasped his erection.

  Her pulse jumped. This was it. She was going to fuck Jeremy.

  His cock hardened even more in her grip and Sarah smiled. Even if it was the first time, she knew it was going to be good. From what they’d done short of sex, Sarah knew Jeremy had some serious talent.