Kyle stopped walking, and the soldier accompanying them tightened his grasp on Alayne's arm, halting her progress. Kyle moved close, one eyebrow winging upward as he studied her face. “Whatever plans you're concocting in that brain of yours, it won't work, Layne. Those Elementals cover a wide area with their skills. Tarry's put the elements out of reach for the whole spire and a good portion of the grounds. We're not getting control back until she says.”
Alayne's lips tightened, and she said nothing as he continued down the corridor. It seemed he had volunteered all the information he was willing to share.
Alayne searched the elemental harp one final time with a desperate hope, straining for the elements, but with no success. No amount of effort brought them any closer to her reach. She thought longingly of her knife. She wouldn't need the elements if she could tackle Kyle and grab it. She was skilled with blade-throwing; Daymon had seen to that. He'd spent nearly every morning with her the previous summer, teaching her.
“Turn right, please.” Kyle motioned toward another tunnel that led down more stairs.
The tunnel was familiar. Manders's secret office is eight doors on the right. She wondered if anyone had ever discovered it. A thought flitted through her mind: the mirror—the one Marysa had given her their first Christmas at Clayborne—acted as a portal, and Manders had moved it down here last year for safe-keeping. Wild hope flared inside of her. If she could find the mirror, she and Daymon could escape without the danger of fighting their way off the grounds.
The thought of Daymon sent her worry into overdrive. What was Tarry doing to him?
They reached another branch, another turn, another tunnel. The deeper they went, the more nervous Alayne grew. Even if she did manage to escape, she'd never find her way out.
At last, Kyle stopped before a door and pulled a key ring from his pocket. He turned it in the lock, putting his weight on it as the rusty latch reluctantly pulled loose. He shoved his shoulder against the door, opening it with a loud creak.
The soldier prodded Alayne forward. Inside the room, a narrow mat lay against the wall. Rat droppings dotted its surface. A bucket sat in another corner. Alayne shuddered as she realized that it must serve as the bathroom.
“Leave us.” Kyle's crisp voice addressed the soldier. The man saluted and exited, his footsteps growing fainter in the hallway before disappearing altogether.
Alayne quickly searched for the elements again. Still notched out of reach. Her fingers twitched with longing as she glanced once more at her knife on Kyle's waist.
Kyle set the lantern on the floor. “Layne, I'm sorry for your quarters' condition. I tried to get them to put you in the dormitories under guard, but they wouldn't. I—hate that they're doing this.”
“They?” Alayne's stiff tongue spat the word.
“Tarry—and Malachi. My mom might have been talked into it. She did say she'd consider it, but she had to go through Tarry, and Tarry wouldn't hear of it.”
Alayne's facial muscles were frozen in an immobile mask. She was astounded at this person she thought she'd known so well. In his face, she read the hope for some reaction from her, anything other than what she was giving him, so she stubbornly kept her face blank.
Kyle sighed in frustration. “Just talk to me, Layne. Tell me what's going on in your head. I want to know.” He approached her, touching her shoulders. Lightly, his fingers brushed over her collarbone, cupping her cheek, sliding behind her neck. He gradually lowered his head.
“If you kiss me again, Kyle, I'll kill you, I swear it.” Alayne's wooden voice stopped Kyle in his tracks. He paused with his lips barely an inch from hers.
A silent beat passed. “How are you going to do that, Layne?” He brought his hand back to her face, tracing her lips with his thumb. “We're alone, deep underground. The elements are out of reach. Daymon's not here, so your guard dog is not on his leash.”
Panic raced up Alayne's spine. “What are you going to do, Kyle? Rape me? Get your kicks however you can—in a dungeon on a mat with rat droppings? Will you pay me afterward?” The disdain that dripped from her words hurt him; she could see it in his eyes, so close to her own. She was glad.
“Kiss me, Layne.” His whisper sliced through the silence following her taunt. “You do it. Then you can't accuse me of forcing it.”
“You're insane.”
Kyle shook his head. “I know that somewhere beneath your anger, you still love me, Layne, and that I still hold part of your heart. Find it, bring it out of hiding. Please.”
Alayne slid her eyes shut and turned her head.
“Kiss me, curse it!” Kyle twisted her face back to his. His lips crushed hers, fury and desire plainly evident in his hard mouth.
Alayne slid her dagger from his belt and rammed it toward his back.
He was faster than she'd anticipated; he wrenched away, and the blade sliced through his shoulder. Crimson blood soaked the sleeve of his shirt. “What the—”
Alayne didn't wait for him to finish. She threw herself at him, catching him by surprise. He fell backward onto the mat, and Alayne raised the dagger. As she stared at his familiar face, she hesitated a split second.
It was long enough.
Kyle smoothly flipped her to the floor, straddling her torso with his thighs, his hands pinning her arms to the cold stone. He squeezed her wrist without mercy until, with a cry, she released the knife. It clattered across the floor. Her legs flailed uselessly behind Kyle's back.
Kyle lowered his face until it was a mere inch from hers. A sardonic smile crossed his lips. “It's been a pleasure, sweetheart.”
He leaped to his feet and swept up the dagger in the same motion. He flipped up the sleeve of his shirt, checking the wound. Blood shone moist on his arm, but the gash had healed. It wasn't pretty; scar tissue wound in ugly strips across his shoulder, but it was healed nonetheless.
“Thanks for that,” he murmured as he slid his sleeve into place. “The Vale still heals whomever you touch, I see, even if it does an ugly job. Glad it served its purpose for now.” Picking up the lantern, he walked to the door. He rested one hand on the handle and turned, throwing one last barb. “I'll be sure to tell Houser how much fun we had.”
At last, he got his hoped-for reaction.
“You filthy scum! Tell me where he is. At least give me that,” Alayne pleaded, but the door had opened and shut, the bolt had turned, and Alayne could see only blackness and hear the tiny, scurrying feet of rats, rats on cold stone.
Alayne lost count of the hours in her cell. At some point, the hours turned into days with no break in the darkness. After a long, long time, Alayne crawled to the mat and huddled against the wall, her knees under her chin. The faces of her friends and family flashed through her mind—her parents, their loving eyes gazing sadly at her, and then Marysa, Professor Manders. Jayme, Daymon. Even Kyle, though she was quick to shove his image aside.
Hunger pangs gnawed her stomach, and then when thirst took over, she no longer thought of food. The only picture she could bring to mind was cool, sparkling water, dripping from a faucet. Slowly, she reached cold, cramped fingers to touch the wall, the moisture, and she contemplated running her tongue up the mossy, moist stone.
Over and over, she pictured it until she did it.
Dirt and moss crusted her tongue. She spat, but there wasn't enough moisture to clear her mouth. She lay on her side and faintly pondered the irony of a Water-Wielder dying of thirst. A weak swipe at the element harp proved fruitless. She could feel the elements move now and then, the careful handover of Elementals trading places, but not once did the balance shift enough for an element to zing back into the harp.
What good am I without the elements? I'm no better than a Natural Human. Shame coursed through her at the derogatory thought. Do I really think I'm better than they are? That I'm worth more because I can wield the elements and they can't? Am I just Alliance fodder, to be used as one more instrument for their vision of perfection?
Her father's s
ad face swam before her. Bryan Worth was a Natural to his core. It's the thirst and the hunger talking, Layne. You don't really think that.
Alayne frowned. Footsteps echoed in the corridor, and she flinched as their smooth sound hit her eardrums. A key fumbled at the door, and a deep groan bit the stillness as the door scraped over stones.
Vacillating lantern light was too bright for Alayne. She squeezed her lids shut, the lantern's glare burning her vision.
“Layne.” Kyle's voice drifted over her.
Alayne's limbs felt stiff and dead. She couldn't move.
“Alayne?” A note of panic hit Kyle's voice this time. A warm, urgent hand covered her shoulder. A moment later came the sound of an unscrewing lid followed by the clink of metal as it hit stone. Moisture trickled across Alayne's lips and down her neck. She swallowed compulsively.
Kyle's breath of relief sounded loud in the room. He slid one arm below her head and tilted her, trickling more water into her mouth. Alayne guzzled it greedily, her tongue a sodden lump. She drank until all the water was gone and then looked around for another bottle. “More,” she managed.
“Upstairs.” Kyle pulled one of her arms over his shoulder and pushed to his feet, lurching forward as he adjusted for her weight, diminished though it was. “Tarry's asked me to bring you up.”
Relief flooded Alayne. She'd been on her way out. Tarry's order had come just in time.
As they made their way slowly down the hall, Kyle's gaze raked over her shambling gait. Anger tightened his mouth. “Skies, Layne, I'm so sorry. I—I knew you'd be thirsty, but I didn't know—”
“That I'd be this far gone?” Alayne slurred the words through cracked lips. “Yeah, go figure. This nice, humanitarian organization you betrayed us for...” The words were too difficult. She fell silent, content that she'd made her point. It reflected in the hurt that crossed Kyle's face.
It took a long time to reach the exit. Alayne's legs weakened with each step, and as soon as the light filtered through the opening, Kyle set down the lantern and canteen and scooped Alayne into his arms, despite her feeble protests.
The guards at the chute saluted as Kyle approached. One of them opened the doors, and Kyle marched in. He pressed the common room's button, and the car shot upward.
“Kyle, put me down.”
“No. You can't stand on your own.”
“When I face Tarry, I want to be on my own two feet. Put me down right now.”
After a moment's hesitation, Kyle lowered her, steadying her as the chute car stopped with a lurch at the common room. The doors slid open, and Alayne propelled herself forward under her own power, her determination the only thing that made it possible to do so.
The room looked the same as it had last year, but instead of students lounging on the couches, studying, socializing, and playing, EA soldiers dotted the room. High-ranking officers laughed and joked on one end of the room, while new enlistees talked and chatted in another.
Tarry stood next to a pool table, her red-manicured nails resting on the smooth green surface. As Alayne stumbled to a stop next to the first couch, she turned with a delighted smile.
“Alayne, you're looking well. I do believe you've lost weight.” Tarry laughed.
Anger, undiminished even in her state, burned inside Alayne. The hubbub in the room died, leaving it silent except for the ticking of the massive pendulum that swung on the floor-to-ceiling clock at the far end of the common room.
Curiosity to see the Quadriweave was nearly tangible. None of the soldiers looked familiar; all of them were anonymous faces in a threat to the safety of CommonEarth's Natural Humans.
Tarry approached. “Let's get down to brass tacks, shall we, Miss Worth?” Her hips swayed in her tight red skirt as she sank onto a couch. She laid her arm along the back of the couch, crossing her legs. “Why don't you sit down?”
Alayne sat, not because she wanted to comply with Tarry's request, but because her legs refused to hold her any longer.
“Where's Daymon?” she asked.
Tarry's lips curved upward. “The first question, and it's a predictable one.” She raised an eyebrow. “He's been keeping me company in my rooms.” Her gaze traced Alayne's flushing cheeks. “Does that make you jealous? Again,” she leaned forward, her bright, blue eyes level with Alayne's, “how predictable.”
A sudden thought jolted Alayne. “You—didn't Shadow-Cast him, did you?”
Tarry laughed heartily. “Are you kidding? He's enduring such sublime torture, I couldn't possibly take that away from him.” She sobered, her gaze turning to flint. “So, Alayne, how are you surviving in your dark cell with the rats? With no food or water? Are you ready to listen to reason yet?”
“Reason, yes,” Alayne answered. “But that doesn't resemble anything that comes from your mouth.” She fired off another question before Tarry could respond. “You said my parents were in the Alliance headquarters. But I thought I saw—are they in a Natural Re-Education Center? I thought they'd be with you.”
Tarry waved the question aside. “You'll find your answers when you agree to help the Alliance. Alayne,” she touched Alayne's knee, her voice soft, “we need your help. Please, consider using the Vale—to bring all life on CommonEarth under one umbrella.”
Her compelling blue eyes had no effect on Alayne's resistance. “Not a chance, Tarry.”
Tarry's brow lifted, and she lifted the Alayne's shirt hem to reveal an emaciated stomach, too-prominent ribs... and the barely visible scar on Alayne's side.
“It would be easy, you know,” Tarry murmured. “To open you up and take the Vale again. It's right there, just beneath your skin, so close—”
“Then do it,” Alayne snapped. “Get it over with.”
Tarry shook her head. “You know as well as I do, Alayne, that the Vale has been in you for—what? Eighteen years now? The Vale has grown and strengthened as a part of you. If I took the Vale—if anyone took the Vale from you—it would be nearly impossible to gain the immediate results we've hoped for, because the Vale is so attuned to you and your senses. It would take us years to achieve the same level of control. You would die because your entire being is wrapped up in the Vale, and we would risk losing you as an incredible Alliance asset. No,” she pursed her lips, “we'll convince you yet.”
Alayne grimaced.
Tarry released Alayne's shirt and studied her. She turned her attention to a nearby soldier, motioning for a glass of water. It was placed in her hand almost immediately, cold beads of condensation trickling down the sides.
“Thirsty, Alayne?” Tarry asked.
Alayne swallowed against her burning throat, watching as Tarry took a long, refreshing swallow. The woman lowered the glass, carefully judging Alayne's reaction.
“When I was ten, Alayne, I took my first trip to the Capital. It was an exciting time; I had the chance to visit the High Court, to see all the branches of the government and how they worked.” She sipped the water again, her expression soft. “My uncle took me. He was a passionate man, concerned about peace and safety for CommonEarth. He would have made a good Leader. He probably could have run for the position if he'd have followed his heart. Instead, he'd stayed home to raise me.”
Alayne refused to relax; she was sure this story was a trap, a way to get her to agree to something she had no intention of agreeing to.
“He died.” Tarry's gaze dropped to her lap. “While we were there. A stupid, random, horrible event. Two disgruntled diplomats—Naturals from overseas—presented their case during a hearing where we were spectators. They argued that Naturals such as themselves had every right to run the Global Elemental Uni-Tech Corporation, an important governmental body at that time. Anyone with sense could see such an entity could only be run by Elementals. It was ridiculous—the organization was completely held up by the elements, and to hand it over to Naturals would have meant its complete collapse. Anyway, they'd stowed guns, breaking through the High Court's security; likely they had a person on the inside.”<
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Alayne still said nothing, her dry throat working as she tried to ignore another bead of moisture dripping off Tarry's glass.
“They fired randomly into the crowd in the heat of the argument to illustrate their power, I suppose.” She shook her head. “My uncle had always told me that Elementals could do anything. But they can't survive a bullet to the heart.”
Tarry tilted her glass and drained it, handing it back to the soldier. Alayne's gaze followed the glass back to the tray where the guard set it.
“Don't you see, Alayne? If we unify every Elemental until there are no weak links, we can keep the Naturals from their power plays, and we'll all be safe. You wouldn't give children dangerous toys. You would only give them safe ones. It's what's best for everyone. Won't you be a part of that, Alayne?”
Alayne licked her peeling lips. Her voice came out in a croak, but there was no doubting the steel behind it. “No, Tarry, I can't be a part of your vision for CommonEarth domination and repression of an entire people group. But have fun trying.”
Tarry's expression slammed closed. “Fine.” She stood and motioned to Kyle. “Take her back to her cell. Another three days with no food or water might make her more willing to help.”
As she turned her back, Alayne caught her arm. “It's ironic, Tarry, isn't it? Everything you value is based around what the elements can do for you. And yet, you hold me prisoner with the elements out of reach, even for yourself, just to try to get your way.”
Tarry stood motionless as Alayne's quiet words echoed in the still room. Alayne couldn't let it go. “Why do you hate everyone different from you, Tarry?”
Tarry turned, her fingers curling into fists. Her eyes shimmered with unshed, angry tears as she glared at Alayne. “How dare you question me or my motives?”
Alayne raised an eyebrow. “I dare because you've taken no trouble to hide them. You've made clear your disgust for all creatures untouched by the elements—”
“Natural Humans are nothing more than animals!” Tarry's shout resounded against the walls. Alayne's breath caught.
Tarry's stormy eyes darkened. She pulled in a shuddering breath. “Natural Humans are no better than animals, and they and every creature, animal or human, who carries no sway with the elements should be eradicated.” She spit the last word and strode away, her back stiff.
Guardian of the Vale Page 9
