by A. L. Knorr
"It nearly killed Dad," she choked out through a tight jaw.
"What?"
Jordan opened her eyes and glared at Jaclyn. "You leaving. It nearly killed Dad. You have no idea what you put him through."
Jaclyn scoffed. "Allan most definitely never needed me."
"It broke him when you left! He loved you!" A tear slipped free. Jordan brushed it away angrily.
"Love?" Jaclyn looked surprised at the mention of such a thing in tandem with her husband. "A meaningless word representing an even more meaningless sentiment." She waved a hand dismissively.
Jordan didn't miss the hurt and surprised look that Ashley shot Jaclyn; it was there and gone, just a shadow passing over his face. He might not just be her guard, Jordan realized.
Horror crawled over her skin and raised gooseflesh in its tracks. What was it Dad said to me the last time we fought? It was one of the last things he said before he left the house. I demanded he tell me everything about Jaclyn and the locket, everything and anything I didn't already know. What had been his response? ‘Even if it makes you hate her?’
"If you're not Arpak, how am I Arpak? Unless you are, and you just came back from Earth?" Sol had said that wings would grow back on their own, given enough time on Oriceran.
Sol. The thought of him made Jordan's heart ache. How she wished for his solid companionship now. I’ve never felt this vulnerable.
"This isn't good. I don't like this," Ashley muttered and shifted from one foot to the other, toying with the hilt of the blade at his hip. He was studying Jaclyn's face with apprehension, as though anticipating some command, but Jaclyn wasn't looking at him.
"What are you going to do?" Jaclyn returned Jordan's questions with one of her own.
"I don't know what you mean."
Jaclyn came out from behind the desk and there was a moment where Jordan's eyes skimmed the map there. Small lumps of rock had been placed strategically throughout the terrain, some over blue, some over brown and green. Then Jaclyn's body blocked the view. She covered half the distance to Jordan, mother and daughter were now facing each other, brown and teal eyes clashing.
Jaclyn spoke slowly. "I mean, now that you know what you are, and where I am…what are you going to do?"
Jordan exhaled a breath full of irony and disbelief. "I thought you would come with me to Rodania. And we could go home together, to Virginia. We could get Dad, and—"
"And what?" Jaclyn cocked a perfectly manicured brow. "Live happily ever after?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "So foolish." She closed the rest of the distance between them and stopped no less than a foot from Jordan; they were nose to perfect nose. Jaclyn raised her hand slowly. Her fingers closed around a lock of blonde hair at Jordan's temple. She tucked it almost lovingly behind Jordan's ear. Then she laid her hand on Jordan's cheek with her thumb wrapped over Jordan's jaw. Her touch was soft, but Jordan had the fleeting impression of bared teeth and claws. "The way I see it…" Jaclyn tilted Jordan's face up to the light. "My beautiful girl, is that you have no choice."
Jordan's brows drew together as she stared into Jaclyn's eyes. Fear began to climb hand over claw up her ribcage, like a gargoyle made of ice.
"I am in charge here, as I'm sure you've noticed. This island is my throne. Nothing happens in Maticaw that I don't know about. Nothing happens in Operyn or Skillen that I don't know about. Soon I'll operate the ports of Jegriar and Comipyr, too. After that…" Jaclyn shrugged. "We shall see what comes next."
Jordan's mind was racing like an out of control thoroughbred, imaginary hooves spewing clods of thought in all directions. What is she talking about?
"I need someone unassuming, someone innocuous. Someone in Rodania." Jaclyn released Jordan's face and held both hands out. "And here you are." She smiled.
It was a perfect smile on a perfect mouth, revealing perfect teeth. So why did Jordan feel like she was standing in front of a cobra with its hood spread wide and its fangs bared in a hiss? Jordan took a step back.
Sol's words materialized in Jordan's memory. Seems the new trade-master at Maticaw, some fellow by the name of Jack, is putting up roadblocks.
"Jack," Jordan whispered, her eyes widening. "Jaclyn." She inhaled. "You're Jack! You're the one bungling up the trade of that medicine—" Jordan floundered for the name of it, but it wasn't important. "Why are you denying sick people their medicine?"
Jaclyn frowned and looked bored. "Altruistic, just like your father." She returned to the desk. "You can stay with Stefania, my secretary, until I figure out what to do with you." Her tone was finite, as though Jordan had no say in the matter.
Jordan took another step backward, feeling the walls closing in. Her heart was pounding, and her eyes skimmed the stone walls for a window she might have missed somehow.
I need air.
Jaclyn looked up and watched Jordan walk backward until her back bumped the door. Jordan's hand found the handle behind her.
"Where do you think you're going?" Jaclyn propped a fist on her hip.
Jordan's temples throbbed and she felt as though strong, cold hands were choking her. She reached up to her neck, but there was nothing there. Her eyes flashed to the silver locket on the desk where Jaclyn had set it down. The scene before her blurred and Jordan felt a wave of nausea roll her stomach into itself. She couldn't breathe. Wet drops spilled down her cheek and off her chin.
I'm having a panic attack, she realized. That's what this is. She pulled at the neck of her vest, but it was loose. I'm going to suffocate! It was too much: the harpy attack, the shock and disappointment of finally finding Jaclyn and realizing she was not what Jordan had been imagining her entire life. Jordan gasped for air, whirled, and yanked on the door, bolting from the room.
Jaclyn watched the door thump shut behind her daughter.
"What a coward. As if she'd be any good to me, anyway."
"You want me to go after her?" Ashley watched Jaclyn's face. Years in her service and he still couldn't tell what the woman was thinking. I doubt I ever will. Jaclyn is the most unpredictable person I’ve ever known.
"Yes, Ash." Jaclyn said softly.
Ashley needed more than that. "Want me to take her to Stefania's? She can't go back to Rodania; not with what she knows."
"No, she can't." Jaclyn meditated, chewing her lip. "If she's not with us, she is against us. Blood or no." She paused; then, "Finish her." She spoke plainly, like she was ordering something for breakfast.
Ashley's face paled at this directive. "Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse. I have done many distasteful things under Jaclyn's charge over the years, but murder an innocent girl? Jaclyn's own daughter?
Jaclyn turned her head slowly and nailed the Arpak with a look that said she wouldn't repeat herself.
Mutely, he nodded. With his mouth in a grim line and dread in his young breast, Ashley crossed the carpet on silent feet and left the office.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jordan was nearly blind with tears as she ran through the lobby and past the secretary's desk. She couldn't see well enough to tell if the girl was there or not and there was no one calling out to her to ask her to stop or see if she was okay. Not knowing any other way out but the way she'd come in, Jordan ran down the carpeted hall and turned down the corridor full of paintings. She was gasping for air, her heart was racing. She found the basement door and yanked it open, pounding down the staircase into the dark. She ran straight, past the stored goods. The basement door shut behind her, cutting off her only source of light. Panting and feeling like she might pass out, Jordan reached for the huge wooden door in the dark. She fumbled for the latch, her wings trembling and legs quaking. With a great heave, she pushed the door open and dashed forward, out into driving rain. When did this storm start?
Her mouth open and her chest heaving, Jordan turned her face up to the sky, already soaked from the downpour. She gasped and sucked in air like she'd run for her life. She lost her balance and thumped back onto her butt on the hard wet stones. Her palms scrape
d against grains of sand and her wings thrust out awkwardly to the side in a too-late effort to catch her. She sat there on the cold, wet ground, her clothing and hair soaking through, her face upturned. She sucked in air greedily and, slowly, her heart eased its clatter. The feeling of a fist around her throat dissipated. Her feathers felt heavy, sodden, and she shook her wings. Jordan opened her eyes, blinking against the droplets falling into her face. Distant thunder cracked and lightning flashed over Maticaw. Small circles of light drew Jordan's attention back to the stone fortress. She tilted her head back and looked up at the small line of round windows.
One of the windows darkened as a head appeared, blocking out the light. A face peered out to the blackening sea, scanned sideways, then tilted down. Jordan recognized the shape of the head.
Ashley.
He disappeared.
Jordan scrambled to her feet, knowing as surely as the sea was salty that Ashley was coming after her. Every nerve bellowed that she should not wait to find out what he wanted.
"Blue!" Jordan screamed as she bolted across the beach toward the water. Her boots pounded on the rock slabs, and her wings opened. She took to the air, calling for her dragon, her voice rough and on the edge of panic. "Blue, we have to leave. Now!" Her wings beat and worked, taking her high above the crashing waves. Twinkling lights in the distance was all the light Jordan could see. The moving lights would be ships sailing in and out of the harbor; the still lights would be those of Maticaw. Jordan tucked her arms in tight, squeezed her legs tight together the way Sol had shown her, and flew as hard as she had earlier that day. Wet blackness swallowed her and rain pelted her face. She closed her nictitating membranes and her vision cleared as the lid protected her eyes.
"Blue!" She called again. Then she realized that if Ashley were on her trail, she'd be giving him a beacon that would lead him right to her. She stopped yelling for Blue but scanned the darkness for her companion, hoping to see his flapping shape materialize from the void. She took a glance back at the island, but saw nothing but a caul of rain and the lights of the trade office growing dim in the distance. White sprays of froth and foam appeared and disappeared as the waves threw themselves suicidally against the stone slabs of the beach.
Her wings ached with heaviness, still she powered her way forward, mentally begging Blue to follow her. She glanced back again just as lightning forked across the sky.
Her heart scrambled into her throat.
A winged form, lit momentarily by the flash of light, was not far behind. His wings pounded the air smoothly in spite of the rain, frightening in their capable, unstoppable rhythm. He moved like a starving shark and he was gaining. Lightning flashed again. His dark eyes and lean, square jaw were limned with the fluorescent light. Ashley's expression was terrible, monstrous with intent.
Alarmed, Jordan cried out and doubled her efforts. The lights of Maticaw were growing closer, just not fast enough. She felt like she was in a dream where she was running through sucking mud that hampered her legs and feet, frustrating all her efforts to escape.
The lights from a tall-masted ship floated in front of her vision. Over the open ocean in a rainstorm, with nothing to protect her, there was no way Jordan could combat Ashley and win. The man was formidable; his driving wingstrokes told her all she needed to know about his capabilities. The ships were her only hope. Jordan clenched her teeth and ignored the burning in her wings and lungs. Her skin prickled with the expectation that at any moment she would feel strong hands lock tightly around her ankles. They would yank her backward and hurl her into the water, or perhaps drag her back to the island.
The ship's masts loomed; the sails were white ghosts rising out of the black. Small shapes ran the decks and rope ladders, working to steady the ship and sail her into the safety of the harbor. Jordan stole a glance back and a scream of terror ripped from her throat. Ashley was so close she could see the mole at his temple and the square shape of his fingernails as a hand reached for her like a claw reaching out from a nightmare.
Praying silently, Jordan turned sideways, reached out both hands and hooked them on the mast of the ship as she sped by it. The face of a young boy in the ship's crow’s nest gaped up at her and watched her use the mast as an axle. Her body jerked around violently, splinters biting into the skin of her hands. Her shoulders jerked painfully in their sockets. The mast tore from her grip as Ashley went sailing by, buying her only moments.
There were shouts from the sailors below. Jordan ignored them, putting all her efforts into using the momentum of her abrupt turn to shoot for the docks of Maticaw. Surely Ashley would not pursue her there, where they'd be observed. Her hands bleeding and her shoulders and wrists throbbing, Jordan spiralled and dove low to fly over the waves, hoping to use the increasing number of ships as cover. She looked back and saw Ashley take a banking turn and disappear behind the sails of the ship. He was far more agile than a harpy. Jordan could hardly believe that she was flying so hard for her life for the second time that day. If she had been fresh, maybe she could have evaded her pursuer with more ease, but she was already tired from her earlier sprint.
Skimming so low over the water that she received rude, wet slaps in the face, Jordan felt her wingtips touch the water's surface. She swerved between two vessels as they passed one another, the port lights growing bright and blinding her momentarily. She banked toward Maticaw; the pocket of civilization with two jutting peninsulas opening their arms to welcome Jordan.
A hand clamped around Jordan's right calf. Jordan squealed and shook her leg violently. She looked back at Ashley, and their eyes clashed. His face was red, and a vein throbbed in his temple. His wings flexed, changing angles, and with his powerful backstroke, Jordan felt her momentum slow. He reached his other hand out for her other leg. She jerked it away from him and sent her booted foot into his face. She only half connected with his jaw, but the glancing blow made him grunt, and his grip loosened.
She faced front just as the massive prow of a ship sliced toward them in the water. Spray flew out to either side as the hull smashed down on the sea. There was no time to scream. Jordan rolled over onto her back, yanking her arms to her chest and her left wing out of the ship's path; the wooden hull sliced by, like a hammer swung through the water by some giant. Ashley's hand released her calf as he broke from her, toward the other side of the ship. Jordan thought she heard a thump as a body part bounced off the hull. She fought to right herself and hoped that Ashley would be at least temporarily incapacitated. Exhaustion throbbed in her oxygen-starved muscles and she sucked in breath after breath, her throat burning. Catching a faceful of seawater, she spluttered and coughed and fought to clear her vision and climb higher at the same time.
Ashley appeared below her, skimming the waves. He was clutching one arm to his chest and craning his neck to find her. His eyes locked on to his prey and he carved toward her with a terrifyingly sharp turn.
Her wings aching and her lungs blistering, Jordan gritted her teeth and begged her pinions for more speed and power. She was flagging badly and she knew it. But Maticaw was so close now. Her hand drifted to the hilt of the remaining blade Sol had given her. Am I going to have to face Ashley in combat? He'd made his intentions clear—capture Jordan at any cost. She didn't think from his expression that he was planning to put her up in a suite and feed her an eight-course dinner. Every sense she had was screaming at her that her life was in danger. There was no time to luxuriate in the shock that Ashley was acting on her mother's orders. It was a realization that lingered at the sides of Jordan's consciousness, refusing at this time to step into the light.
Maticaw's port loomed out toward them like giant fingers stretching out to sea as the Arpaks swerved between vessels. Jordan made a valiant effort to pull her legs forward the way Sol had shown her and catch herself on a dock in a run, but her muscles seized as her feet hit the nearest platform. Her legs gave out and she tumbled forward off the edge of the dock and into the waves. Icy water closed over her head, stabbin
g her skin and filling her clothing and boots. Her sodden wings became heavy ballasts and flailed uselessly at the water. Using her arms, Jordan pulled for the surface. Only her face broke through, the driving rain pelting her as she gasped for air.
A voice was calling garbled words she couldn't make out, as her ears were full of water. She sucked in breaths, her chest still near exploding, and looked around.
A creature, a sort of man with all the appropriate number of limbs and eyes, but with a mouth far too big for his face, was kneeling at the edge of the dock and reaching a hand out to her. He yelled words at her, punctuated by what could only be called chirps and squeaks. It didn't matter that she couldn't understand him, his intention was clearly to help her out of the water. In his ghastly face was a welcome concern, so Jordan reached for him.
The two of them strained toward each other, Jordan paddling furiously with one hand and kicking for all she was worth with her lead-filled boots.
The rain on Jordan momentarily stopped as a shadow fell over her. The creature on the dock looked up and surprise widened his eyes. His massive mouth dropped open, looking like a cave full of blunt teeth. More of those strange words poured out, sounding indignant now.
Strong hands grabbed Jordan by the back of her vest and belt and she was heaved up out of the water like she was little more than a child's toy. The sharp snaps of wet but strong wings pounded over her head. Jordan craned her neck to look behind her. Ashley had lifted her straight out of the water and was carrying her over the docks. The creature that had tried to help her sailed by below; his hand was still outstretched, his huge mouth gaping.
"Let me go!" Jordan tried to scream, but the words barely came out. It was all she could do to breathe. She tried to lift her wings but they felt like they were made of sod—impossibly heavy, nothing more than a prop to weigh her down. The muscles in her back and shoulders strained with effort. If I can muster enough energy to shake the water off, I might have a chance. She clenched her teeth and tried, but her wings just quivered and cried out for rest.
