Breath of Winter, A

by Edwards, Hailey

  “You’re very proud for a mercenary,” he observed. “Most believe in taking what they can get.”

  So had I, until Henri. “I’m not most mercenaries.”

  “No,” he agreed. “You’re not.”

  His assessment of me was far less clinical than I would have liked, considering I hadn’t brushed my hair or my teeth. It was edged with heat and started those blasted tingles sweeping through me.

  When I eased my hand from his, my palm was sweaty.

  “Now that’s settled…” I poured a cold glass of water from a bedside pitcher. “Should we talk?”

  His thumb returned to making those pleasant circles in my arch. “If you feel up to it, yes.”

  More like if I could keep from falling asleep. Treacherous feet. While my eyelids grew heavy, I reflected on our conversation from the previous day. “I told you about Murdoch finding Kaidi on his clan’s property and bringing her to Paladin Vaughn. That didn’t sit well with Hishima at all. Luckily for us, it didn’t sit well with her either. She escaped Cathis—with Murdoch’s help—and we tracked them into a mountain pass joining Cathis to Titania.”

  “Kaidi escaped from Vaughn and returned to Titania.” His brow furrowed. “Why risk capture? She must have known Hishima would be waiting for her there. What was worth her getting caught?”

  “Proof,” I said. “She knew right where to find it too. In Titania, secreted away inside the crystal caverns by Hishima. Our ward was the evidence she sought. Lailah is what Kaidi calls a harbinger.” I studied his face when I added, “She is—or was once—Hishima’s mother. Did Mana tell you that?”

  “No.” His thumbs slowed. “Considering her son’s involvement, and her name, I suspected.”

  His quiet unsettled me. “Did you know her?”

  “I did.” He set my leg aside. “She visited Mother several times a year. She was not kind, but nor was she cruel. As can be the case with those who wield tremendous wealth and influence, it was all my parents hoped for that she used her status well, causing as little harm as possible in the process.”

  I weighed his memory of her against the conflict brewing in his eyes, and I told him a hard truth.

  “Don’t make the mistake of thinking any part of her still remains. Whoever she once was…that person is gone. That thing, the harbinger, is all the plague left behind.”

  It seemed strange to consider that the quietly elegant Henri and brutally ambitious Hishima had been contemporaries, but of course they had been. With that in mind, I chose my words carefully.

  “She murdered her only child without qualm. She snapped his neck and was feasting on his flesh when we captured her. If she could do that, then she’s past hope. She’s become a creature of sensation who revels in the hunt. She craves that stimulation.”

  From Henri’s pocket emerged his now-familiar coin. I wondered if he could think without the comforting repetition of weaving it through his fingers.

  “I have a theory about that.” He flipped the disc. “You never explained what the term harbinger meant.” While he waited for me to explain, he noticed how I was watching him and fumbled his toss.

  “I ought to start at the beginning with that one, I think. You said the plague hasn’t come this far north. That rules out a firsthand account. You’ve read notes, though?” His nod was sharp. “Then you know there is nothing to be done for the infected but to let them die and pray they go fast and in their sleep.” The next bob of his head was more reluctant. “Kaidi proved that isn’t the case. The plague is a first stage in becoming what she calls a riser, a walking corpse. From what I understand, after an infected person dies, if their body is left intact, the corpse can be called into service by a harbinger.”

  “If the plague creates risers,” he asked, “then what do you think creates harbingers?”

  “That I don’t know. If Hishima knew how his mother had been turned, he never said.”

  Pushing to his feet, Henri began pacing across the room. “Before I saw a harbinger for myself, I would have called you a liar. I want to say the dead can’t rise, but if harbingers exist, what else is out there we have yet to discover?” He ran a hand through his hair. “You said the bodies must be whole? Is that why Kaidi was beheading them? She was trying to destroy the risers before they awakened?”

  “That’s what I gathered.” Few things survived the loss of their heads.

  “But you never witnessed the phenomenon yourself?”

  “I saw the creatures, but not how they came to be as they were.”

  His voice went soft. “I wonder if we could replicate the process.”

  “Why would you want to?” Seeing them once had been enough for me.

  “If they can rise,” he asked, “who is to say they can’t be revived?”

  “I’ll say it. Are you mad?” I spluttered. “Did you miss the part where I said they are corpses?”

  “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps they are beyond saving.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief until I spotted his hand.

  The coin was a blur. I’m sure his thoughts matched its speed.

  I swallowed hard. “You’re going to try, aren’t you?”

  “I have to know.” He turned toward me. “To end the plague, we must understand all its facets.”

  “They aren’t facets.” How he failed to see that stunned me. “They are—were—people.”

  “If becoming a riser is the fate of the infected, then it is my duty to understand how the creatures are created so that I can determine how they can be destroyed. We owe our kinsmen the certainty that their final rest will go undisturbed. Their remains will be treated with respect. I promise you that.”

  “You remind me of Hishima, and I don’t say that lightly. Unconcerned, so sure he was right. He vowed the risers wouldn’t bother us. For the most part, they didn’t. He fooled himself into believing he held sway over them because of a tenuous alliance negotiated by his mother, who he kept chained in a cavern beneath the city. He thought if he controlled her, because of what she was, that the others would bend to his will. But he was wrong. Hishima learned how wrong when we cornered Kaidi and Murdoch, when our ward feasted on her son—her own flesh and blood—with relish that makes me ill to recall.”

  He glanced at me. “Did Hishima tell you anything we can use against the others like her?”

  “Are you listening to me at all?”

  “Every word,” he said earnestly.

  He stared at me until I caved. “Hishima called them the Necrita. If that’s who they are, they’re a nation cobbled together from the bodies of southland clans. Why he believed the dead would honor treaties with the living is as much a mystery to me as all the rest. He took those secrets to the grave.”

  Henri stopped walking, and his stillness was telling. “I wonder what she knows of his plans.”

  “I doubt she understood them, if he shared them with her. She is childlike. She sees the world in her own way and is prone to fits when she fails to get what she wants. Since what she wants is to tear out throats and devour flesh, I’m sure you can imagine how often she is disappointed. Whether other harbingers are like her, I can’t say. But she is shortsighted and quick-tempered, a lethal combination in an ally and a fatal one in an enemy. If you can pry answers out of her, there’s no telling how much of what she said would be the truth and how much would be what she thought you wanted to hear in order to get a treat. You must be careful, Henri, please. Her kind is more dangerous than you know.”

  “I will be.” His faraway expression called him a liar. “I would like your opinion on something.”

  I hesitated. “What do you have in mind?”

  “You would have to see for yourself.”

  I slouched. “If it can wait four bloody weeks, I suppose you can show me then.”

  “It can’t.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you have plans this evening?”

  I rubbed my knees. “If by plans you mean drinking myself into a tea stupor, then yes.”
<
br />   His lips flattened. “I left strict instructions with your brother as to the dosage. If he—”

  “I was teasing.” I mock saluted him. “Ghedi follows your orders to the letter, unfortunately.”

  “Health is no teasing matter.” His mouth pursed. “Perhaps I should reconsider my offer.”

  “No, please.” I was too eager to mind how I pleaded. “What were you going to say?”

  He drew himself taller. “Would you like to see my laboratory?”

  “Yes.” Three of my brothers had taken up residence in there. Our ward was caged in there. Besides the fact, it was the hub of this locked-down section of tunnel, and I had yet to explore it.

  “In exchange,” he said, “I would like your word on another matter.”

  “Oh?” Bargaining was my favorite part of mercenary work.

  “I have gone through great effort to mend you as best I can, and I would like that effort to come to fruition.” He crossed his arms. “I would like your word that I won’t find you again as I did today.”

  I shook my head. If he thought I would sit tight and wait for his all clear, he was mistaken.

  “Your word, Zuri.” He waited. “It’s not so much to ask.”

  I scrunched up my face. “I swear to do my best to follow your instructions.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “No, but I try not to lie in my line of work,” I said. “It’s a nasty habit that could get me killed.”

  With a great sigh, he assented. “I suppose that will have to do.”

  “Will you still give me the grand tour?”

  Mischief glinted in his eyes. “Should I ask Ghedi for his permission first?”

  I snatched a pillow and hurled it at him. “Only if you want to beg my forgiveness second.”

  “I don’t like this.” Ghedi sat at the foot of my bed, his hand shackling my good ankle.

  I broke his grip and kicked him in his bony arse. “No one cares if you do or don’t.”

  “Henri said you needed bed rest.” He stood. “Not to go off gallivanting in your condition.”

  “Visiting his laboratory is hardly gallivanting.” I watched him settle into his usual track crossing the front section of the bedroom. “Could you hold still for five minutes strung together? Your pacing is driving me insane when I can’t as much as stand on my own. If you won’t sit still, why should I?”

  His pace slowed. “You’re the one with a broken ankle.”

  “Me?” I feigned shocked. “My, my, that would explain the cast on my leg.”

  “Laugh it up, sister dear.”

  “I would if it weren’t so tragically unamusing.” I offered him the reminder I deserved. “Henri is Araneidae royalty. Royals only gallivant with the likes of us for as long as it takes to yank down—”

  “No one is yanking anything,” he boomed. “Tell me you aren’t still thinking about it.”

  I threw up my hands. “He’s handsome, wealthy and I do have a pulse. Of course I am.”

  A hopeful note entered his voice. “But you’ve decided against pursuing him?”

  “Because I would have to be the one pursuing him?” I challenged.

  “That’s not what I meant.” He stabbed the air with a finger. “You are twisting my words again.”

  “You’ve got your tail in a knot because Henri asked me to tour his laboratory. Can you imagine anything so dull? How bored I must be to accept his offer? Do you think for a moment I would be so eager if I hadn’t been stuck in bed for two entire days with nothing to do but listen to your whining?”

  “Have I come at a bad time?” Henri stood in the doorway with his hand resting on the knob.

  Dread pooled in my gut. As big as my mouth was and as riled as Ghedi had made me, I had no doubt Henri had overheard me. How much, well, it didn’t matter. I had said it all and meant it to a degree, though I hadn’t meant for him to hear it. “I’ve been waiting hours for you to remember me.”

  “You were never far from my thoughts,” Henri assured me.

  Ghedi’s sneer slid off Henri, who ignored him.

  “I have an invention I would like you to test for me,” he continued. “Mana wrote me some weeks ago about a young girl she met in Cathis. As a result of a birth defect, the girl is unable to walk, so her aunt commissioned a craftsman to design and build a wheeled chair for her.” He pushed a ladder-back chair ahead of him as he entered the room. “I was curious about its potential applications and designed my own version. This is my first attempt. It’s the product of a series of sketches Mana sent, with some alterations.”

  Once he skirted Ghedi, I saw the contraption clearer. It was a chair, and its legs had been sawed off to accommodate four spindled wheels. The two wheels in the rear were much larger than the pair in front. Handles had been attached behind the support piece, at shoulder height to the person sitting.

  It was a singularly bizarre thing to behold.

  “I made another modification after our talk.” He bent down. “This is an adjustable leg rest. You can raise or lower it to fit your comfort.” He patted the plush cushion. “It’s perfectly safe to ride in.”

  “I don’t understand the purpose of this chair.” Ghedi nudged Henri aside and sat with a force that made the seat creak. “If a patient ought to stay in bed, what good will come of giving them wheels?”

  “Mobility for those who suffer from long-term illnesses will be its targeted audience.” Henri let my brother roll across the room. “There are short-term benefits as well, as Zuri will soon discover.”

  Not until Ghedi had cracked one of the leg braces on the chair and Henri strode after him with purpose did I intervene. My brothers weren’t fond of being told what they could or could not do. It was best if they were told by someone, if not bigger, then meaner than they were.

  “Ghedi,” I snapped. “Get out of the chair before you break it.”

  “It’s sturdier than it looks, I’ll give it that.” He continued to rock himself back and forth. “If you removed those leg braces, it would be more comfortable.” He leaned back. “I could get used to this.”

  “You can sit there until dawn if you like,” I informed him tartly. “I’m going no matter the hour.”

  Ghedi spun the chair around to face Henri, frowning at his proximity. “As Zuri’s physician, I trust you will do what’s best for her. Is rolling down tunnels in this thing you pieced together safe?”

  “I tested it myself.” Henri sank his hands in his pockets. I think to keep from throttling Ghedi. “I would never compromise her or anyone else’s safety to sate my own curiosity.” The starkness of his gaze when he looked at me was riveting. “If you have any concerns, Zuri, you don’t have to do this.”

  Desperate as I was for a taste of freedom, I wasn’t about to miss out on this adventure.

  I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “Ghedi, get out.”

  “Suit yourself.” He stood with a grunt. “I’m going with you, just so you know.”

  “Why?” I held my arms out to Henri, who angled the chair into position.

  Ghedi drummed his fingers on the doorframe. “You might need my help.”

  Henri clasped my outstretched hands and pulled me flush with his chest.

  “She won’t.” He curved an arm around my waist, balancing me against him. “She has mine.”

  “Then I’ll see you inside.” Ghedi punched the door casing. “If your rattletrap makes it that far.”

  “Go on, then.” His temper fueled mine, and I snapped, “Don’t make me bring Kaleb into this.”

  “Don’t make me laugh.” Ghedi vanished into the hall.

  “Sorry.” I returned my attention to Henri. “Ghedi has a temper on him.”

  “Confinement doesn’t agree with him.” He shrugged. “I can sympathize. To a point.”

  I think I had expected Henri to offer me his shoulder. A little support from him and I could have hopped into place and sank onto the seat. So when he slid his arm up behind my shoulders, I
let him without complaint. It was the arm he eased underneath my legs that made me stifle a gasp. For all of his talk of my tallness, he lifted me as easily as Ghedi ever had, and he put me down twice as gently.

  I was still speechless when he knelt and put my good foot on a brace set inches above the floor. With tender hands, he settled my busted foot on the brace sticking out into the room. With that done, he plucked the comforter off the bed, tossed it over me and tucked it under me though it was stifling.

  Or maybe I was the only one who broke into a sweat while he played nurse for me.

  “There.” He stood back to appraise his work. “Are you comfortable?”

  I nodded dumbly. Where was his grunt or groan? His struggle to carry me or sharp exhale when he realized he couldn’t? When was the moment when he laughed at my gangly legs or at my weight?

  Silk. Araneidae silk appeared as much the same as any other. Its hidden strength distinguished it, making it impressive, distinct. It would appear those same traits applied to those who spun it as well.

  Finally, I found the brains to ask something sensible. “How is our ward?”

  “As well as can be expected.” He knelt beside me and adjusted a set of knobs, raising my leg. “She has learned the limits of her cage.” He straightened and grasped the chair’s handles. “So far she has shown no signs of self-destructive behavior. Once she realized I wouldn’t open the cage even if she beat herself senseless on the bars, she accepted her situation isn’t likely to change anytime soon. She’s calmed considerably since she first arrived. She has even attempted conversation with me.”

  I tilted my head back. “She spoke to you of her own free will about something besides food?”

  “Yes.” He studied me. “Is that so important?”

  “The only time she communicated with Hishima that I saw was to bargain for food. She had the knowledge he wanted, but he paid for it in flesh. If she’s talking to you, she’s after something.” I had a good idea what it was too. “What are you feeding her now? Fresh meat, I’m sure. But what kind?”

  “Varanus for the most part.” His fingers tapped the handles. “The animals were butchered a few weeks ago and the meat frozen. Are you saying she wants fresh meat? Or a chance to hunt her own?”