Lore grunted in pain.
Rowen didn’t look back. She threw herself out the window. Her hands and knees hit the ground, sending sharp pain across her palms and legs.
Outside was a small park, the one where she had first healed Sherard. Two semicircular benches stood in the middle, enclosed by the other apartment buildings, with an alley on the left that led to the street. The sun was high above the buildings. She could hear Lore fighting behind her. Should she leave him? Just to escape? He had told her to.
No. Rowen came to her feet and turned back toward the window. She left with him or not at all.
“Rowen!” Lore climbed out the window. There was blood splattered across his chest and face. “What are you still doing here?”
“I won’t leave without you.”
“Rowen—”
“This way.” She pointed to the left. “I think we can take the alley and—”
Four more men stepped out from the shadows in the alley.
Lore moved in front of her, his sword ready.
Rowen dropped her hand. She quickly looked around for another way out…
Nothing. The other buildings blocked any access to the street.
The men advanced, one hanging back to block off the alley.
What she wouldn’t give to have her smallsword with her right now.
Lore met the first blade with a hard hit. The clang of metal reverberated across the park.
A face appeared in one of the windows. The fight was starting to attract attention.
Another man joined in the fight. Rowen took a step back, still searching for an exit. Another window perhaps?
Lore held both men off until one blade made it past his flurry of hits, slashing his arm. Lore cringed, his arm sliced open near his shoulder. The man who had dealt the blow tried to get in another, but Lore fought back, although clearly favoring that arm.
Rowen looked around. What could she do? How could she help Lore?
Use your mark.
She stopped, and her eyes went wide.
Use your mark.
The voice inside her mind was cold and sharp, nothing like the Word’s voice.
Lore cried out and went down on one knee.
Rowen swerved back, her hand reaching for her glove. They would not take Lore—
Wait. She stared at her glove. This wasn’t right.
Lore struggled back up, blocking the blade that would have caught him in the chest.
Use your mark!
Rowen gripped her hands together. Word, help me! Help Lore!
The same frigid presence from earlier came back, double force. Her lungs froze, and her breath came out in a wispy cloud.
Lore fell to his knees.
Rowen screamed. She grabbed the edge of her glove and began to pull.
One of the men came around and hit Lore on the back of his head with the pommel of his blade. Lore crumpled to the ground, his sword dropping beside him.
“Don’t kill him!” She had the glove half off. “If you do anything to him—”
The men backed away, leaving a three-foot circle around Lore. One of them held a hand against his side and bent over.
“What do you want with me?” Rowen stared at the men. “What have I done to you? Why do you chase me down like a criminal?” She searched for Drake, but he was gone. Just like a rat. “I healed your people, I have—” Her words froze in her mouth.
The man near the alley stepped away.
A woman entered the park, dressed in a long scarlet dress. She was taller than the men, lean, with lush, dark hair that flowed down to her middle. Her lips matched her dress, her eyes the color of a moonless night.
She looked at Rowen and smiled.
The men turned. “Mistress Velyni,” the first man said and bowed. The rest of the men bowed as well.
“Leave us,” Velyni said.
“But mistress—”
“I can handle her. Leave.” There was an edge to her voice. “And take that man with you.” She nodded at Lore.
“No!” Rowen rushed toward Lore—
—and jerked to a stop. It felt like a frigid hand had reached in and grabbed her by the heart. She couldn’t move.
Two of the men seized Lore and dragged him toward the alley.
Rowen fought the hold on her and took another step. The frigid hand squeezed. She gasped and fell to one knee. The pain radiated up to her forehead. What was going on?
As though following a tendril of cold mist, Rowen looked up and saw Lady Velyni walking toward her, a smile on her face. Whatever this cold power was, it was coming from her.
What was she?
Velyni walked past the men. Lore’s head lulled to the side, his legs and feet dragging behind him. A moment later he and the men carrying him disappeared in the alley.
Rowen looked at Velyni, each heartbeat feeling like it was trying to break through a cage of ice. No human she knew of had such power. Wait, could she be a Shadonae?
Velyni’s smile widened, and she came to a stop a couple of feet away. The frigid presence intensified.
Rowen let out a strangled breath and placed a hand on her throat.
“I am no more human than you are, Daughter of Light.” Velyni said the last words with a sneer.
Rowen dropped her hand and reached for her glove.
Velyni laughed. The hair on Rowen’s neck stood on end. “You can do nothing to me, Truthsayer. Yes, I know what you are. But your power only works on humans, not on me. Mine, however…” She bent down.
Rowen fought the power holding her. She stumbled back and hit the wall. Velyni closed the distance between them, her hand stretched out. Rowen twisted away, but Velyni grabbed her arm. A chill tore through her body, like an arc of lightning, so intense she gasped.
“My master told me to watch for one like you,” Velyni said, digging her fingers into Rowen’s arm. “He and his companion are most pleased that I found you.”
“Who?” Rowen sucked in another breath. Lore’s sword caught her eye. If she could just reach it…
Velyni ignored her question. “The last of the Eldarans.” She laughed. Her dark eyes glittered as she stared into Rowen’s face. “You do not have much to show for being the last of your kind. Wallowing in this filthy place. The slave of a lowly human. Your power used to heal others for gold. Power you know not of. It’s a pity, really.” Her fingers slowly let up. “You could be so much more. Perhaps that is my master’s plan. Or perhaps you are simply in the way.”
Master? This…creature or Shadonae or whatever she was, was the servant of another? “Who is your master?” Rowen could almost feel her arm again.
“You will know soon enough. You will be sent—”
Rowen broke free of Velyni’s grasp and dove for Lore’s sword. The hard ground grazed her knees. She ignored the pain and reached for the hilt. There. Her fingers curled around the cool metal. She swung the blade at Velyni’s legs.
The sword went right through Velyni as if she were made of smoke.
Stunned, Rowen let the sword’s momentum swing her around. The blade and her knuckles hit the ground on the other side.
Velyni laughed. “Foolish woman. Nothing made in this world can hurt me. But just in case you want to try again—” She reached down and grabbed Rowen by the shoulder.
A penetrating chill flowed through her veins. Rowen cried out and arched her back. Everything froze inside her. She slumped to the ground, barely able to draw in a breath.
“That’s right,” Velyni said softly. “Do not fight me.”
Rowen couldn’t, even if she’d wanted to. Her limbs tingled then lost feeling altogether. She heard Velyni call out for Keepers. Rowen’s head slumped to the side, each breath a cold, misty wisp. From the corner of her eye, she saw two men emerge from the alley.
“Tie her up and put her in the coach. Make sure the covers are closed. Then take her to…”
Her hands were brought behind her and tied together. Rowen closed her eyes. The only thin
g she could feel now was her heart. Its warm, steady beat meant she was still alive. Hands grabbed her beneath her arms and at her ankles. Her body went up into the air.
She fought the heaviness settling across her mind and opened her eyes one more time. She spotted Lore’s sword lying on the ground near the wall.
The man she loved. The man she would have bonded with.
A piercing ache filled her gut. Her eyes drew shut. She had no idea where she was going. But something told her she would not see Lore again.
The brief bit of hope she had held and immersed herself in that afternoon faded, like waking from a beautiful dream to a terrible reality. The dark road of her life now called. And she would follow it to its end. Alone.
Whether she wanted to or not.
• • •
Bright lights flashed across Lore’s vision. The back of his neck throbbed, radiating down his spine. Thump-thump, in sync with his pulse. He groaned and shoved against the ground. Dark spots replaced the stars. He brought his knees under him and breathed. The dark spots converged into one large black mass before his eyes.
One breath. Two. One breath—
Lore stood. His mind spun. He reached out and leaned against the wall next to him. A street came into focus. Shadows spread across the dirt road and up the building across from him. The sky above was bright blue. Lore held a hand to his head and blinked. Where was he? And where was—
Rowen!
He turned. That door, the black one. It was the one he had entered earlier that afternoon. He stumbled toward the door. Stars popped back across his vision. Lore mentally pushed the spots away and wrenched open the door. Ahead, silhouettes stood in the doorway where he had left Farien.
“Where is she?” His breath caught in his throat as he made his way down the hall. Precious moments ticked by. He had to find Rowen now, if he had a chance of saving her. “Where did they take her?”
The silhouettes turned.
Lore saw Drake. “You!” He lunged toward the man, grabbed the front of Drake’s shirt, and slammed him against the doorway. “What did you do with her, you double-crossing snake!”
Drake raised his hands in self-defense, his eyes wide.
Lore reached for his sword. An empty sheath met his hand. Anger blazing, he twisted Drake’s shirt around his fist and pressed hard into the man’s chest. “What did you do with her?” His face was inches from Drake’s.
“Nothing! I swear nothing!”
Lore fought the desire to punch Drake as hard as he could. A red haze filled his vision. He hand shook. “Then what just happened?”
A hand came to rest on his arm. “Captain Lore, let Drake go.” Lore turned and found Farien next to him. “I know you enough to know you will regret anything you do to this man.” Farien turned and looked at Drake with loathing. “Even if he does deserve it.”
Lore shrugged off Farien’s hand. He wasn’t done yet. “I want to know what happened.” He turned back to Drake. “And this man knows!”
“The woman was Lord Corin’s consort, Mistress Velyni. She took Rowen.”
Corin? That name sounded dimly familiar to him. Lore shook Drake. “Why did you let her?”
“She came to me. She demanded that I give her the woman. And she had papers from the Temanin Council.”
Lore glared at him. “I know your kind. You didn’t just give Rowen to her.” He let go of Drake in disgust. “You made a tidy profit on the side.”
Drake shrugged and fixed his shirt.
Lore spun around and headed toward the door that led back out onto the street. He needed to get away from Drake, or else he would do something he would regret. And he needed to find Rowen.
He stepped outside and searched both ends of the street. Which way to go first?
“Wait, Captain Lore.”
Lore tensed. He turned back and found Farien standing in the doorway. “The longer I wait, the less chance I have at finding her,” he said through clenched teeth.
Farien sighed and stepped outside. “She’s already gone.”
His face flushed. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“Velyni and her men loaded her into a carriage. They’re probably halfway to the palace by now.”
Lore kneaded the back of his neck. “Then what do I do?”
“Wait.”
Lore pointed down the street. “I didn’t come all this way just to let Rowen be taken again.”
“Running after the woman without any information won’t get you any closer to finding her. What we do know is that Corin’s consort came and took her.”
Farien was right. Lore’s shoulders slumped and he stumbled back against the building. The air was hot even in the shade. Lore wiped his face. “Why? Why would Lord Corin want Rowen?”
Farien’s eyes narrowed as he stared down the street. “I’m not so sure it is Lord Corin who wants her. But then again, maybe he does. Maybe he requires a healing—who knows?”
“So what do I do now? And don’t say ‘wait.’”
Farien looked back at him. “You do indeed wait. I will gather what information I can. In the meantime, I will find a safe place for you to stay.”
“And how much is this going to set me back? I already owe you the other half of your payment for bringing me here.”
Farien tossed Lore the money pouch. “I’ll consider it part of our original deal.”
Lore caught it with one hand and pulled the pouch open. He counted out the rest of Farien’s payment and handed it over. “And what about Drake?” Lore cinched the pouch shut and pulled the cord over his head. The pouch dropped beneath his tunic. At least he had some money left. Drake would not see one jewel or coin of it.
Farien shrugged. “What about him? He is of no use to us now. His actions will eventually catch up to him.”
Lore didn’t like it, but Farien was right. If Drake had been in the White City, Lore would have arrested him immediately. But he was not in the White City, and Azar was not exactly Lore’s jurisdiction. Drake was Azar’s problem. But if Drake ever set foot up north again…
Focus.
Lore let out his breath. Only one thing mattered now. Finding Rowen.
27
“We’re almost there.” Caleb looked over at Nierne. Her face was dark with shadows and tinted red from the setting sun, almost matching her hair. She sat stiffly on top of her horse, as if she were afraid she would fall off. She had looked that way ever since they had left three days ago. “Azar is just beyond this hill.”
Nierne gave him a quick nod and kept her face forward.
Caleb shook his head and looked out over the desert. The hills, trees, and prickly bushes had all meshed together into one large black landscape. The sky above turned into shades of red and purple. Overhead, a single star twinkled for the first time that evening. The narrow curve of a crescent moon made its appearance over the hill. A warm breeze brushed his cheeks, and Caleb sighed. Such beauty, it almost hurt.
Nierne gasped and pulled on her reins. Caleb brought his horse alongside hers and stopped at the top of the hill, pride swelling in his heart. Down below stood the city of Azar.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Yes. I never imagined… I have read about Azar but…”
Caleb smiled, hardly able to keep back a grin. “I don’t think any words could do her justice.”
Azar spread across the hills like a vast dark ocean with a thousand lights upon its surface. There was a soft hum in the air, the sounds of tens of thousands of people and animals flowing together until they melded into one long, low song. The walls stood as they had since the dawn of time: tall, dark, and impenetrable. Nothing had, and nothing ever would, conquer Azar.
“No,” he heard Nierne say after a pause. “Nothing I read is like seeing Azar. I can see why the city is called the Jewel of the Desert.”
More like many jewels, Caleb thought. The lights of a million candles sparkled like diamonds against the dark desert. Even the thought of facing his cousin Lord Co
rin could not dampen his spirits tonight. He felt like a parched man who had finally found water. Soon he would be in the palace, in his rooms, enjoying the comforts he had left behind. He would bathe in the pools, sleep in his own bed, and enjoy the company of—
Caleb frowned. Ailis. He hadn’t seen her in months, not since Corin had sent him up north to join the war. And strangely enough, he hadn’t thought of her the entire time. Except once, during that one brief moment when the Word had said that someone else could die for him. Ailis had completely slipped from his thoughts, but not from his emotions—since she had never been there to begin with. He did not love Ailis. He had only used her.
Something dark and ugly twisted inside his gut. Word, forgive me. What a man he had been! Not anymore, though. He would never do that to another woman.
The sky was completely black, save for the scattering of stars and moon, when Caleb and Nierne rode up to the gates of Azar. Slowly the gates began to close, their hinges creaking under their great weight. Large torches hung just inside the gates, lighting up the area below. Sand scattered beneath the horse’s hooves and was swept away with the wind. Caleb led the way through the gates, with Nierne close behind.
One of the gatekeepers stepped out from gatehouse as they rode past. “Cutting it close, you two.” He waved them by. “Consider yourselves lucky and move along with your business.”
Caleb nodded and rode past him without a word. A block away, there was a muffled boom as the gates shut behind them. He knew the streets of Azar better than most, having spent his time navigating them at night. Caleb made his way toward the palace without hesitation.
They rode past multi-story buildings with windows lit and families inside. The merchants’ booths out front were empty and dark. Lamps burned brightly on the street corners. Memories of jogging these same streets toward an assignment filled his mind. He remembered each house, each victim. And with each memory, his heart grew heavier.
You are free now. The thought wove its way through his memories. You are forgiven.
But Caleb could not give back to the people he had taken from. He knew the memories would fade, but they would still leave scars on his soul that he would carry for the rest of his life.
Son of Truth (Follower of the Word) Page 28
