Breath of Winter, A

by Edwards, Hailey

  “We’re too exposed here.” Edan paced. “Marne is too exposed here.”

  Where we were, I couldn’t tell. From my position, all I saw was sky overhead and hovering faces as they leaned over me to smile or murmur assurances. I made special effort to track Edan.

  “Is Lailah dead?” He asked Marne the question I had been wondering.

  “She took a hard hit and fell. Whether she survived, I can’t say. I was otherwise occupied.”

  Edan paused to assess me. “She would know.”

  “No.” Marne touched his arm. “Let her be. As briefly as they were joined, she may not have linked fully with Lailah. If Zuri survives, after she recovers, then we’ll ask her what she knows.”

  Henri glanced up at them. “She will recover.”

  I might have believed Henri had his hands not shaken where they touched me.

  “I’m sure she will,” Marne said softly.

  “Ah.” Edan lifted his sword. “There’s Rhys now.”

  “Go to him,” Marne urged. “He could use you by his side.”

  “The only blade he knows for certain I can wield are those in my kitchen.” Edan studied his sword, and even I saw how well it fit in his hand. “My place is here. My loyalty is to you, not to him.”

  “Henri is here.” She almost touched his hand. “We will be safe, as safe as anywhere.”

  “I lost you once.” He shook his head. “I won’t risk you again. My place is here.”

  She circled in front of him. “Edan, please—”

  “Rhys can take care of himself,” Henri said. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but he is safest with the warriors he has trained for such an occasion. You are safer here, as is Edan.”

  “If Lailah survived?” she challenged. “What if she leads her army even now?”

  “Then we continue as we have been.” Henri sighed. “We can do no more than we have.”

  “Their formations are scattering.” Edan had walked to a ledge, I think, and stood watching.

  “More proof that Lailah is dead or incapacitated,” Henri soothed her. “She won’t take you to Idra. I won’t allow it. You are safe here. Edan and I will see to that. Now, pull him back for me.”

  Marne went to him. “Don’t tell me I can’t stand there if your toes are curling over the edge.”

  Chuckling, he tore his gaze from the battle. “You never used to be this bossy.”

  Drawing herself taller, Marne said, “I never used to be half Necrita, either. Things change.”

  “So they do,” he mused. “All right. I’ll pull my nose from the glass.”

  They turned in unison and rejoined Henri, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me. He touched the edge of my jaw, frowning at what he saw. His lips flattened instead of saying what had occurred to him.

  “Gods’ web.” Edan was staring toward the ledge. “The lines are shifting. Risers are headed this way.”

  “We have to move her.” Marne spoke to Henri, but he was rubbing his face.

  “If we move her,” he said very softly, as if afraid I might overhear, “she might die.”

  “If we don’t,” Edan snarled, “she’s as good as dead already.”

  Edan reached for me, and I wish I could have cringed.

  “Don’t.” Henri’s voice had gone deadly quiet. “I will carry her. You take care of Marne.”

  When Henri’s arms went under my knees, a twinge made me wince. It was the arm he slid under my head that made a half-scream razor its way free of my throat. He gathered me then lifted me.

  The rest was blessed oblivion.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A coughing fit woke me. My throat was sorer than it had ever been, and my skin felt tight. I pushed myself upright and glanced around the bedroom I had been using since arriving in Erania.

  For a full minute, I doubted my wispy memories were real. Maybe it all had been a dream.

  Swallowing hurt, and I gulped hard to steady my nerves. Reaching up, I touched a bandage at my throat. I tensed, expecting agony to flare, but dull aches were my reward. I lowered my hand. Henri’s teas were no doubt the reason I could bear sitting up so soon. As before, all my pains were tolerable.

  I flung the sheets aside in my haste to examine my cast.

  Bending my knee confirmed this one had no treads. It was as standard as my first had been.

  A sharp snort from the corner startled me. Ghedi sprawled in the chair, mouth open, snoring.

  He looked well, healthy. His color was good and his breathing even. I hated to wake him.

  “Does Henri—?” My voice cracked, dry from disuse, so I tried again. “Does he know—?” I set off a coughing fit that pulled at the sticky edges of the bandage at my neck.

  Ghedi shot up, eyes wide, tipping his chair on its side in his haste to reach me.

  “You’re awake.” He took my hand, kissed my palm, my cheek, my forehead. “Mercy be and thank the gods. Do you know who you are? Where you are? Who am I? How many fingers—?”

  Coughing again into my fist, I croaked, “Water?”

  “Water?” His expression turned panicked. “Yes. There was some. I saw the pitcher—here.”

  He scrambled to a carafe and poured me a murky glass of fluid I decided was tea. It didn’t matter to me. I wanted to wet my throat and welcomed any relief Henri’s brews brought to me.

  Instead of pressing the glass in my hand, Ghedi placed it at my lips.

  I snatched the cup from him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m helping you drink,” he said calmly.

  “I’m fine.” I drank deeply, sighing as my parched throat was moistened.

  “You aren’t fine,” he snapped. “You were in a coma for three weeks.”

  “Three weeks.” The glass slid from my hand, and tea splattered us both. “Three weeks?”

  “You had your throat ripped out by a harbinger. You should be grateful you’re alive. I am. I thought for sure this time you had managed to get yourself killed.” He tugged his shirt overhead, tossing it at me to dry my face. “What were you thinking, going with Lailah like that? Henri said you agreed to let her brand you with a living mark on your neck that would change you into a harbinger.”

  “Are our brothers all safe?” I held my breath for his answer.

  “Yes.” He scowled. “They’re all in their rooms.”

  “Then you have your answer.”

  He jabbed his finger at me. “You could have—”

  “What could I have done? Malik had been captured. Kaleb and Tau were in the stables as far as anyone knew, which meant they were dead or captured too. Fynn was enthralled and Henri…” My chest tightened. “Where is he? Is he safe? What about Marne?” I even asked, “Is Edan safe?”

  Ghedi gave me an odd look. “I don’t know a Marne. I’ve never met Edan. Henri is where he always is—in his laboratory. He’s been working on something or other since the risers attacked.”

  I slumped against my pillows. “Part of me is certain I had the worst dream. The other part is convinced everything I almost remember happened. If you don’t know Marne or Edan… I don’t know how much I dreamed and how much is real.” I glanced at the cup in my hand. “How strong is this?” Too strong and it made my brain slosh. “Can I get a glass of water?”

  “I don’t know anything about the tea except how much I’m supposed to give you.” He stood and reclaimed his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder. “I drank all the water. I’ll have to get more.”

  I passed him my cup. “I would appreciate it.”

  Ghedi hesitated at the door. “Are you safe to leave alone?”

  “I think so.” I felt good, better than good. I felt alive.

  “Don’t move,” he threatened, “or I’ll break your other leg.”

  “I have no intentions of moving. I promise you that.” For once, I meant it.

  Though he obviously doubted me, and who could blame him, he did go.

  With a moment alone, I shut my eyes and focused my thoughts where th
e strange connection to Lailah had been. I sensed a kernel of awareness there that shouldn’t be. It was foreign to me. It was also familiar. “Idra.” When I spoke her name, the small mass flared golden bright behind my eyes.

  Shaking, I pulled the covers up to my chin then tugged them over my head.

  It was a silly thing to do, but it made me feel better.

  When the door swung open and heavy footsteps approached the bed, I burrowed deeper into my nest of pillows, expecting to hear mocking laughter or for Ghedi to yank the covers out of my hand.

  “Are you hiding from me?”

  Heat rushed into my cheeks. I lowered the fabric and, instead of Ghedi, I found Henri. “No.”

  He kept his distance. “I owe it to you to answer any questions you might have.”

  “My brain is soup. I’m having difficulty forming cohesive thoughts. For the moment, you’re safe.” Casting back on what had happened, I collected my doubts to me. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I ought to know, and we’ll see if I can find any questions when you’re finished?”

  “I can do that.” He strode to the corner and sank into Ghedi’s chair. “First I must ask you for a favor. You saw a side of Marne not many people have. I must ask that you keep her secret safe.”

  “She saved my life.” Plucked me from death’s own hands. “I won’t breathe a word.”

  “She will appreciate your kindness.” He glanced aside. “After this, she and Edan will leave Erania. People will be looking too closely at what I have done, and I don’t want them implicated. I intend to send them south—to stay with Masikookyang in Beltania. The Salticidae are far kinder than my clan can afford to be.” He exhaled. “They are not strangers to aiding Eranian refugees.”

  His comment made me curious, but he continued before I could interrupt.

  “After your arrival, stray risers began crossing the border into Erania.” He leaned back in his chair. “Marne sensed them and was afraid another harbinger had come to reclaim her. I don’t believe she was in any danger on that score. Edan killed the one who changed her, and harbingers appear to choose hosts with care. It’s unlikely that the traits one harbinger coveted another would appreciate. I doubt they accept or nurture any other’s spawn. They would most likely kill it.”

  “That’s a relief.” I touched the lower edge of my bandage. “They won’t want me either.”

  “Their wants in regard to you are irrelevant.” His eyes darkened. “They will not have you.”

  “You saved me.” I reached for him, and he came to me, sinking to his knees, taking my hand.

  “I failed you. This is my fault. I knew the risks, and I kept you ignorant of them. I won’t ask for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it.” His grip tightened. “I chose my family, my clan, over you before you even arrived. Then, once I got to know you…” He shook his head. “If I could do it—”

  “—over again, you would do it the exact same way.” I used his hand to tug him onto the bed. “It was my choice. I decided to accept Lailah’s mark, and it was the right decision. If I had died, I would have had the satisfaction of dragging Lailah down with me and scattering her army of risers too.”

  His silence told me what he thought of that.

  “What can you tell me about Marne?” I touched my throat. “What is she? Not a harbinger.”

  “She is what you would have become, a fledgling harbinger.”

  “Why was she here?” I had believed Lailah the first harbinger to traverse the north.

  “Rhys spotted Edan on a hunting trip some months ago. Edan was carrying Marne’s body, and Rhys assumed that Edan had found the northland’s first harbinger carcass. When Rhys realized she was alive—barely—he escorted them to the summer stables and promised them aid.” Henri exhaled. “He told me to help if I could. If I couldn’t, he would have killed her. I began sketches for the bastille that same day and construction began the next. After seeing Marne, I wanted to believe harbingers could be reformed.”

  “The full-fledged ones can’t be.” Lailah was proof of that.

  “I know that now, at your and her expense.”

  “I did wonder how you were so well-prepared for Lailah.”

  No doubt he had repurposed a room to accommodate the cage, but it would have taken a crew of workers weeks to transform the room into a harbinger-proof bastille, even with gold easing the way.

  “Lourdes decided to acquire Lailah because of the bastille and our experience with Marne. Our early success made her bold enough to accept Vaughn’s offer to house Lailah. Gods we were fools.”

  “Let me get this straight. You had been treating Marne, so you know more about harbingers than I do.” Now our easy reception in Erania made more sense. “But you hadn’t seen a riser until we arrived with them in tow.”

  “Marne was rescued before completing her transformation. I’m not sure she can call risers.”

  “You said she was rescued.” No doubt by Edan. “Where did she come from?”

  “We don’t know and Edan won’t say. She was captured and infected while in the southlands, and he sought refuge in the north.” Henri spread his hands. “Their discovery wasn’t proof the plague was spreading north, but we contained the situation to prevent the possibility. Their privacy was the cost of their cooperation. We could have forced them to participate in testing given the circumstances…”

  “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

  “As am I. It made observing Marne’s awakening much more authentic. I hypothesized she came back to herself as a result of having her sigil removed, and Edan’s presence aided in her recovery as well.”

  “Marne said we could live without sigils. Is that what saved me? When Lailah ripped mine out?”

  “Not exactly.” He rubbed his nape. “My theory is that in order to spawn, a harbinger must have its own sigil. While my hypotheses abound, I have no proof, yet, of how they are manifested. It could be that the creation of a sigil is at the heart of how the plague was spread through livestock. You see, the sigil is, as best as I can tell, a parasite. They appear to be alive, at least while they are attached to a host, but their plating bears a stark resemblance to finely hammered copper. At the moment I’m not certain those characteristics are mutually exclusive. All I have to examine are the remains of yours.”

  “What about Marne? She must have had one.”

  “She did, but Edan removed it, thoroughly.”

  “The scar on her throat.” How Edan must hate being the one who ruined her.

  “Hers attached in almost the same spot as yours, but both have since been fully removed.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief knowing no creepy-crawly part of Lailah’s sigil resided in me.

  Henri appeared much less relieved. I exhaled. “I sense a but coming.”

  “Sigils are venomous. Lailah told you she had been lacing my mother’s pitcher with venom, but it wasn’t hers. It was her sigil’s. She was preparing your body to ensure it didn’t reject the implant.”

  “I don’t understand why she insisted on using that particular pitcher. Was it a game for her?”

  “In part, I’m sure it was. I’ve thought about it, and I think she chose it because its base is metal. I use unglazed clay pitchers and glasses for patients because they’re inexpensive to replace and I can destroy them to prevent contamination. The clay would have absorbed the venom. She must have felt it was a better bet to use the mosaic pitcher and hope it worked.”

  “How was Fynn involved?” He was on bed rest at least the first time Henri spotted the pitcher.

  “He doesn’t remember much of what happened, but as tight a hold as Lailah had on his mind, I have to believe she either slipped him venom on the journey or she orchestrated her escape as a distraction to give him a dose large enough to cement a mental tie. Given the fact we all had contact with her, and with him, she might have been using her song to implant suggestions in us all long before we realized it.”

  “Now there’s a frightening thought.
” When he didn’t agree but lowered his gaze to meet mine, I knew there was more. “That isn’t a happy look. There’s something else. What haven’t you told me?”

  “When a harbinger affixes its sigil to a host, it’s essentially poisoning them.” He leaned forward. “If the sigil is maintained, the host is transformed. If a sigil is forcibly removed, I believe that action triggers a reflex. The sigil then pumps its host full of poison to ensure that the fledgling dies with it.”

  “Yet Marne—and I—survived.” I speculated, “You must have created a sigil antivenin.”

  “In so many words, yes.” He shifted to face me. “There is no cure. Not yet. What I have created is a low-dose antivenin that must be injected daily in order to counteract the effect of the sigil venom without causing necrosis of the organs.” His gaze held mine, and it was anguished. “You will be on injections every day for the rest of your life unless I can develop a true cure. Marne will be as well.”

  A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I should…” He stood with a grimace and crossed the room.

  A twist of his wrist and the door exploded inward from the force of Tau’s weight leaning against it. He fell to the ground with a grunt. The others trampled him, shoving Henri aside as they clambered to reach me. They hit the mattress in a jumble of arms as they struggled to embrace me first. When they were all done, I was crushed beneath a wall of muscle and feeling ridiculously grateful to be alive.

  Scraping the oafs off me took time. Once I could see past the blockade of brotherly love, the first thing I noticed was my bedroom door had been left propped open, and the hall stood empty.

  Henri was gone.

  I woke a second time, hours later, and found Ghedi’s chair empty. Quiet permeated the room.

  Undecided if I enjoyed the silence, I broke it. “Hello?”

  The knob rattled, and the door opened a crack. Fynn stuck his head inside the room.

  His brows climbed.

  “I thought I was alone.”

  Never, he mouthed.

  “Are we the only two here?”

  He nodded.

  I swept out my arm, indicating Ghedi’s chair. “Would you like to come inside?”