Breath of Winter, A

by Edwards, Hailey

  “I would have risked more to stay away. We must talk. I would prefer to do so face-to-face.” Edan measured him with a glance. “You’re dead on your feet. I figured you would be. I brought a tray of meats and cheeses and a bottle of wine. You can eat while I relay my message.”

  My shock at his kindness must have shown because his eyes twinkled with mirth.

  Henri’s gaze darted toward his office. “Is Marne with you?”

  “Soon.” He glanced that direction too, then back at me. “We plan to wait this out in the city.”

  Henri braced his palm on the back of my chair to steady himself. “You aren’t staying?”

  “Only long enough to tell you what you must know.” Edan clasped his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You won’t starve. Place your orders as you have been. They will be filled by an associate of mine.”

  “Can they be depended upon?” Henri stressed his point.

  Edan’s affable façade slipped. “I would not entrust your wellbeing to any who could not.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Please.” He held up his hand. “Bring the tray. Let’s talk.” His fingers tapped the handle of my chair. “Would you care to join us? As tired as I am, and as eager as Edan appears to be to get on his way, I would appreciate another set of ears to catch what I miss.”

  He must have known it was an invitation I couldn’t refuse.

  I didn’t disappoint.

  Much to Edan’s amusement, I kept the dagger Asher had lent me braced across my thighs. Henri was oblivious. His eyes were at half-mast, and he was fumble-fingered opening his bedroom door. The meal Edan mentioned sat on Henri’s bed on a tray identical to the one Ghedi had brought me. For all I knew, it might be the same one. Then again, how many such ornate trays must exist in this nest?

  I entered the room with hesitation. “This is your room?”

  The bed was narrow and slender, the frame simple. A heavy chair sat in the corner beside an old table strewn with books. Papers littered the floor in that corner. Clothes were piled beside the door. Plants in metal stands lined one wall, and the smell of herbs filled the space. It was a nice room. It reflected the studious male who slept there, but I had trouble imagining this as his bedroom suite.

  As a brother of the maven, I expected more gold, more ornate carvings, more…everything.

  “Is it not what you expected?” Henri waited until Edan claimed a seat before sitting on his bed.

  Since I had my chair, I could hardly complain I had not been offered a position first.

  Nape prickling from being confined to a cramped space with Edan, I kept my back to the door and him in my periphery. Henri was fading, and the last thing I wanted was to be alone with Edan.

  “It must be a good sign if she has imagined how your bedroom looks at all,” Edan said.

  I ignored him. “I admit I anticipated a grander room considering your position.”

  Henri poured a drink and offered the glass to me. I declined. There was only one cup, and he needed the wine to wash down his meal. “The room my parents gave me is no doubt identical to the one you’re picturing for me. But I prefer staying close to the work.” He popped a square of cheese in his mouth after first offering a piece to me. “Tell me why you’ve come, Edan. How bad is it? What are Lourdes’s plans?”

  “Bad is a relative term.” He settled into his chair and crossed his legs under him. “Your sister has been monitoring the situation for some days. She believes the city is safe from this threat and has decided to use this opportunity to study our enemy. Paladin Rhys issued orders to his guards to observe but not engage the risers. So far, there have been no sightings of the other creatures.”

  “Harbingers don’t like getting their hands dirty.” I explained, “They use risers for that.”

  “Right now we’re working under the assumption the risers who made their way to Erania either followed the orders of a harbinger who elected not to accompany them, or they journeyed here under their own power.” Edan waited to see if I contributed my opinion. He surprised me enough that I did.

  “There’s a harbinger nearby pulling their strings.” There had to be. “Whether it’s ours or a different one is the question.”

  “What has been learned from observing them?” Henri asked.

  “Not much,” Edan admitted. “The risers haven’t attacked the walls or tried entering the city, and so far they appear oblivious to the guards unless they are confronted. In fact, the only area where the risers are congregating is outside the stable hatch. For that reason, the bulk of the paladin’s resources have been redirected there as well as the other hatches scattered outside the wall, though the risers are content to charge the stable hatch rather than seek entrance elsewhere. They seem very simple to me.”

  “Left to their own devices, they might be.” Too bad they had help. “Harbingers are the real threat. If one is spotted, warn your maven she is better off killing it before it sings the risers into action. When under a harbinger’s control, risers are made more vicious by their lack of thought and their strict adherence to their master’s orders. Observe the risers if you wish, but keep your eyes to the skies.”

  “I will keep your advice in mind.” An indulgent note entered his voice.

  “Is there anything else?” Henri set his empty tray on the floor, nudging it aside with his foot. Focused as I had been on Edan, I hadn’t noticed Henri clean his plate or drain his cup.

  “Nothing of consequence,” Edan said. “You and I have discussed the rest.”

  I gawked at him. “You risked infection to tell him that little bit?”

  “I have been taking the same preventative medicine as Henri has. You said earlier you have faith in his skill. Perhaps you are not the only one who trusts him with their life?” Rising with his back to me, Edan lifted the cushion on his chair and withdrew a thin packet. “Once I leave, I swore to your sister I would not return to the nest until it had been purged of sickness and I was not at risk from or a risk to those inside. You and I—we may not see one another for some weeks.”

  Henri shook his head. “I’m certain that wasn’t by design.”

  “Marne isn’t used to living underground.” He shrugged. “She craves a good hunt.”

  “Will you hunt the risers?” Though no one had said, they could hardly be left free to roam.

  “They do not interest me.” Edan rolled his shoulders again. “Marne may think otherwise.”

  “If she should become interested, take her outside the wall to the forest near the old vineyard. There are lepus there she can trap.” Henri held out a hand, and Edan set the packet on his palm.

  “I may do that.” With a formal bow that suited him well, Edan said his farewell to Henri.

  “Don’t let the door hit you…” I muttered as Edan passed.

  His deep chuckle followed him into the hall.

  When the door closed, Henri studied me. “Would you like me to escort you to your room?”

  “No.” My fingers drummed my armrests until I noticed Henri’s habit in myself and stopped. “You need sleep. You’ve done too much and gone too long without rest. Head down. Eyes shut.”

  After a brief hesitation, he tucked the packet away and did as I ordered, stretching out across his mattress. “What next?”

  Subtle warmth in his voice lured me closer. “Stop squinting so hard and relax.” I rolled nearer to his bedside and ran my fingers through his hair. “There. That’s better.”

  “I ought to send you away,” he murmured.

  “Afraid of my brothers, are you?” I teased while scratching his scalp lightly with my fingernails.

  He cracked one eye open. “Let me worry about your brothers.”

  “I can’t make you any promises.” I admitted, “I worry about them constantly.”

  He turned his head toward me. “I regret adding to your burden.”

  “Shh.”

  “I mean it.” He stretched out his arm and rested his palm on my knee. “I should have done m
ore than I did. If I had given your family the same consideration as I gave mine, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “If I had read the fine print in our contract with Hishima, we wouldn’t be here either.”

  His thumb stroked the inside of my thigh. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I can’t blame you either.” It wasn’t fair. As my initial anger faded, I began to see that.

  I was angrier at myself for being led so easily into Hishima’s trap than at Henri’s actions.

  “Am I forgiven, then?”

  I thumped the crown of his head. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  He reached up and rubbed his scalp. “How far would you go?”

  “This far.” I leaned over, used my finger to tilt his face and kissed him.

  “Were you making a point just now?”

  I chuckled while sliding my gaze down his body, toward the laces of his pants. “You tell me.”

  The flash of color in his cheeks drew me down for another taste of him. This time he caught me. Short as my hair was, he had to cup my neck to take control of the kiss.

  I let him, moaning encouragement while I slid my hand across his chest. I relished the pounding of his heart under my palm for a moment before easing lower. When my fingertips brushed the closure of his pants, Henri wrapped an arm around me, tugging me half on top of him.

  I bumped my shin on his bedframe, sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled a curse.

  He released me instantly and pushed up onto his elbows. “Are you—?”

  “Fine.” The gentle throb of pain cleared my head. “You should be sleeping.”

  He bent over and cradled my calf, lifting my leg to examine it. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

  I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. “Now, Henri, where would the fun be in that?”

  I pried his hands from my leg then shoved his shoulder until his back hit the mattress. Covering his eyes, I waited until his lashes stopped tickling my palm, and I knew his lids had remained closed.

  That endearing curve bent his lips. “How long will you stay?”

  “A while.” Until I was certain Edan had gone and Henri would stay where I put him.

  He hesitated. “Is that wise?”

  “How else can I convince my brothers their worst fears have been realized?” I ruffled his hair. “Rest, Henri. My brothers will survive the scandal if I’m found inside a male’s room.”

  It was Henri’s neck and my arse I worried about.

  Chapter Nine

  I snuck from Henri’s room once his breathing evened. He needed the rest, and I couldn’t shake a nagging sense of urgency that the dayflower oil ought to be contained. In my mind’s eye, I imagined Edan filling a flask before leaving for the city. Ridiculous, because he had no inkling how the oil was used or why it had been distilled.

  I frowned. Or did he? As well-informed as he was on all other fronts, apprised enough to be an informant for the maven, was he also made aware of the dayflower oil’s purpose?

  Once inside the laboratory, I went straight to the kiln to satisfy my paranoia.

  The large bowl of dayflower oil was as I had left it. If Edan had known of its purpose, he had taken no liberties with its contents. No sooner had I stretched cheesecloth over the mouth of an empty jar, when a hand grasped my shoulder. I twisted around, almost toppling my chair to get a look behind me.

  My heart stopped up my throat. “Why aren’t you with Fynn and Braden?”

  Asher bit into a crisp apple and spoke around the core. “Waiting on you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Do I look like an idiot?” He wiped his mouth.

  I plucked the fruit from his hand. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  He snatched back his apple and took another bite. “Malik went to fetch something from the stables for me. He ought to return any minute. It won’t take long to realize what I asked for isn’t where I said it would be. I’d wager Fynn is getting pissy right about now since I haven’t put in an appearance. Braden will cover for me as best he can, and neither will dare leave the other in that room alone, but you left me in a tight spot. I had to do a bit of fancy talking to convince your brother to head to the stables without setting eyes on you first.” He pointed at me. “I did a favor for you. What do you think would have happened if Fynn or Malik found you in Henri’s bedroom?”

  “Why is it any concern of yours?”

  “If they lay hands on him…” Asher made a cutting motion across his throat.

  “They aren’t stupid.” For the most part. “They won’t hurt him.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Just remember you owe me a favor.”

  “How about we call us even?” I clicked right back. “You did, after all, stab me.”

  “That again?” He tossed the core into a corner. “You shouldn’t hold on to grudges so tightly.”

  “You stabbed me,” I said again.

  Behind me, motion caught the corner of my eye, leaving me cast in a long shadow.

  “Ah. There he is.” Asher stared beyond me, at the doorway. “Did you find it?”

  Malik scowled while spreading his empty hands where we could both see them.

  “My mistake,” Asher said, apology clear in his tone. “Anyway. I should be getting in there.” He angled so that Malik couldn’t see his face and mouthed, You owe me.

  Though I was curious what favor he wanted of me, I shook my head. “Enjoy your shift.”

  He curled his lip, which Malik noticed. Grasping Asher by the collar, my brother hauled him to the rear of the laboratory and, after the lock was triggered, into the bastille. Braden stumbled out into the room with me before Fynn hauled the door shut. I asked Braden, “Are you on your way to bed?”

  His head wobbled loose atop his neck. His trudging steps never slowed.

  Red-eyed and puffy-lipped, he was drunk from lack of sleep.

  “Can I ask you a question?” At his groan, I added, “It won’t take but a minute, I promise.”

  “Ask,” he half-grunted.

  “Who is Edan?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really?” I studied him. “He was here earlier and I—”

  Braden’s head snapped up. “Here? In the laboratory?”

  Interesting. “He brought Henri something to eat.”

  “Fancies himself a first-rate cook, he does. As if anyone with two eyes in his head would believe a male built like that earned his muscle in a kitchen. He’s good with a knife. Too good. And that wife of his… There’s something wrong with those two. Bad wrong. Steer clear of them, hear me?” His speech left him slouched forward, as if his warning was what had kept him upright.

  “I plan to.” The wife I hadn’t seen and the husband I hoped never to see again. “Sleep well.”

  Left on my own, I returned to situating the cheesecloth in preparation of straining the oil again. I relied on what I had read in Mana’s letters to guide me. Before long, I had four jars filled with the distilled oil. To look at the bluish fluid, you wouldn’t think it held the potential to rid the south of the plague and prevent it from taking root in the north. Fingers crossed, I prayed the cure was as Mana documented. The majority of her patients had recovered and resumed their lives. They had all been female, a fact that made my chest tighten, but females succumbed to the infection easier than males. Rubbing my temples, I thought back on every detail Kaidi had told me. Once she had mentioned males weren’t impervious to the sickness. What had she said…? Blast it all. I couldn’t remember.

  Our meeting had been too brief, her information too vast and my ability to retain it all too poor.

  After securing the dayflower oil in one of the cleaner cabinets, I went in search of sleep.

  Left on my own, I feared the lure of seeing Ghedi would tempt me into his room when that was the last place I ought to be. Heaving a sigh, I returned to my room and crawled in bed. My cast was a familiar hindrance now. With the use of my shoulder ret
urned to me, the rest was more manageable.

  I curled on my side until sleep came for me. Weary as I was, I didn’t have to wait long.

  The sensation of being watched jarred me awake. I jolted upright in bed then clutched my chest while my heart tried to punch a hole through my ribs. Henri rose and offered me a small tray of fruit.

  I hoped he didn’t notice my hand shook when I accepted it. “You’re looking well.”

  “Not as well as you.” He straightened my shirt. “I took the liberty of inspecting your shoulder while you were sleeping. The wound has healed, and I plan on removing the stitches in the next day or so, barring complications. Your ankle is also recovering well. I’m pleased with your progress.”

  To be polite, I nibbled on a sliver of ripe melon. “Does that mean I can have crutches?”

  He poured me a glass of tea, frowning at the pitcher.

  “Isn’t that the same one?” It looked familiar. “The one from your lab?”

  “It is.” He transferred its contents to a stoneware pitcher and set the mosaic one aside.

  “How did it get in here?”

  “I’m not sure.” He traced a crest inset into its handle. “It was my mother’s. If you happen to see who’s taken a shine to it, do me a favor and ask them not to remove it from the laboratory again.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  After setting the pitcher by the door, he reclaimed his seat. “Now. You were saying?”

  I waited until he was settled before restating my request. “Are crutches a possibility?”

  “You don’t like the chair?” He propped an ankle over his knee.

  “I like it. I’m grateful for it,” I hedged. “I’m just tired of sitting all the time.”

  “How do you know I have crutches?” He plucked tiny green leaves from the hem of his pants.

  “You don’t?” I found it difficult to believe there was anything he didn’t own. “If you don’t have a set handy, you could make them.”

  “I can’t talk you out of this, can I?” He rubbed the crease in his forehead. “I would prefer if you waited at least another week. Two would be best, but I can tell from your scowl that won’t happen.”