by White, Gwynn
Lukan didn’t want to dwell on the choice Dmitri had given him so many years before: Tell the high-born their gemstones were ice crystals in exchange for the book. Perhaps if he had taken up Dmitri’s offer, none of this would be happening now.
“It’s never too late for redemption, Lukan. If that is what you seek.”
He squirmed. Didn’t Dmitri know about the Pavel family hanging in the great hall?
“Aye.” Like a bubble shining in the sunlight, the air rippled with color. “Despite everything, Lukan, I offer you redemption. If that is what you are willing to work for.”
A hand speared through the wavering light. It held a blue leather-bound book, no thicker than Lukan’s fingers, and no taller than his hand. A faded picture of Dmitri the Seer was embedded in the leather.
He recognized it. The Illustrated Book of Chenaya: The Full History of the Dmitri Curse.
It was the book Dmitri had promised to give him all those years before. Heart racing, Lukan leaned in to grab it. At the same time, he remembered that Nahom sat opposite him. Not wanting Nahom to see this treasure, he snapped, “Leave. Now.”
Nahom had already gone.
He shot to his feet. “He—he left! Without my permission!”
“I offer you redemption,” Dmitri’s disembodied voice said. “And that is what you choose to concern yourself with?”
His eyes shot back to the book. “No, not at all, I…” He licked his lips. “Are you going to give me that?”
“Let’s talk about your redemption first.” The book landed on the table. Before Lukan could grab it, Dmitri’s hand shot through the shimmering air. It landed with a thud on the faded cover. “I’ve a deal to make with you, Lukan. Are you interested?”
He sat. “That depends on the terms.”
“They are painfully simple. Your heart for this book.”
Was Dmitri sporting with him? Mocking him for demanding that Natalia bring him Grigor’s heart? Accusing him of cruelty for the hearts he’d tossed so casually on the dais? He clutched his silver buttons. One was missing. Another hung on by a single thread. He pulled on it. It came loose in his hand. He rolled it in his fingers, and then played dumb.
“You’ll have to explain.”
“Turn off your ice crystals. Every. Single. One. Let your people decide to whom they want to give their hearts in the coming war. You do that, and I will give you the book.”
“That’s insane.” He tossed the button onto the table. “Why would I ever do something so stupid?”
“All this time, and still you have learned nothing.” Hidden behind the light, Dmitri let out a long, pained sigh. “Once I asked you to give up Lynx. You refused. Now you obsess over ice crystals, and whether they work. Did Lynx fulfill your every desire? Will your ice crystals? Disengage them, Lukan. Win back some merit by allowing your people to choose.”
He stared at the book resting beneath Dmitri’s hand. “And if I can’t?”
Dmitri lifted his hand, and the book floated into the air.
He jumped up to follow it. “Wait. Perhaps I don’t fully understand what the book will do for me.”
The book hovered.
“It will tell you how, when, and where Nicholas will enter your palace. No different to watching him on his Final Word.”
Lukan’s silk shirt clung to his clammy torso. That was a prize worth having.
Dmitri’s fingernail tapped the hovering book. “The difference between success and failure.”
“Success and failure,” Lukan repeated. “That would be a-a-a boon.”
“Aye. A boon indeed.”
But the price...
He fiddled with remaining buttons. How many of his low-born in Cian would support him without ice crystals compelling them? Of the million guardsmen gathering, how many of them would stand by his side if their jaspers failed? And the high-born?
He grimaced, all too aware of the problems with the high-born, if Rosina Pavel was anything to judge by. She was a traitor. As was Pytor, her husband. Even Stefan Zarot had been a traitor for decades. Not forgetting Felix, even though he was an Avanov who should have had Lukan’s interests at heart. And as for Axel—
He moaned, not even wanting to think about Tao.
All of his natural allies had failed him.
His hand drifted to the handgun tucked into a holster under his too-warm jacket.
Perhaps it knew the answer he sought. That it would be left to him to defend himself.
He had shot Tatiana. Could he shoot Nicholas?
“What a stupid question. I’ll blow Nicholas’s head off the moment he appears.” His breath hitched. “But will Nicholas come alone? Or will Axel and Lynx and that great army…” He looked at the hand, wishing he could see Dmitri’s face.
“My curse is clear,” Dmitri said. “The son will destroy the father.”
Lukan swallowed. He hated talking about that possibility. Still, he had to know. “That sounds like a private showdown to me.”
“A duel?”
Lukan shrugged. “Answer my question.”
“Disengage your ice crystals.”
Lukan thumped down onto the chair and rapped the desk with his fingertips. The logical thing was to offer Dmitri his high-born. He shook his head so hard his lips quivered. At least some of them had working ice crystals. And they were right here, in the palace.
“No. No. Absolutely not. Not when at least some of them will stand strong and fight.” He sighed, aware that he had to offer Dmitri something. “You can have my low-born, but not my guardsmen.” As much as it irked to lose any support, it didn’t really matter if the low-born were freed if he still had his million guardsmen defending him.
Dmitri laughed. “You would bargain with me?”
“Negotiate,” he said stiffly.
“Then let’s play,” Dmitri patted the book. “The low-born in exchange for one snippet of information.”
Lukan surged to his feet, “One snippet? I am an emperor, not some card shark in a bawdy house! Do not dare to sport with me!”
Dmitri chortled, and the book started to dissolve.
“Stop! Wait!” Lukan slumped back in his chair, hardly believing that he was again wrangling with Dmitri over this foul book. He fought to keep his voice even. “Surely you can see that one snippet is hardly a fair trade for all my low-born.”
“That depends on the snippet.” Dmitri had the gall to sound amused.
“How will I know it’s value without having to...” He searched for inspiration on how to avoid having to disengage his low-born first.
Another dry laugh from Dmitri. “How about I spare you the mental gymnastics? As an act of good faith, I will tell you my snippet first.”
Dmitri had caved! Happy in his victory, Lukan reclined in the chair to wait.
“A warning, Lukan,” Dmitri said sharply. “Fail to deliver your side of the deal, and you can forget about redemption. Your soul will be damned forever.”
Lukan leaned forward eagerly. “I will have no reason to fail if the information is as good as you claim.”
“Then listen well. Silent as ghosts, Death in all her cryptic beauty glides. From bowels unnumbered, Wraiths as black as night disgorge. Their Prey, the darkness ere transfixes. But hark! Pray, look! Sound the alarm. For it is on the flank that danger lurks.”
Lukan canted his head, waiting for more.
Dmitri was silent.
He jerked back in his seat. “That’s it? A few lines of badly scanned rhyme?”
“That’s it.” Dmitri’s hand reached out and pushed Lukan’s informa to him. “Now do your part. Free your low-born.”
Lukan burst into laughter. “You play me for a fool. No deal.”
Dmitri joined in his laughter.
It sent chills down Lukan’s spine, and his mirth failed.
Dmitri’s laughter stilled just as sharply. “Lukan, it may interest you to know that my book also has a few lines of badly scanned rhyme about your refusal. Allow me to share them wi
th you.” Without waiting for a reply, he said, “To the Prey was offered a peaceful day. To wit, he did rebuke, and thus his fate decreed. Yet he will die in his bed.” Dmitri’s arm and the book vanished.
Cold as ice, Lukan stared at the vacant spot. Dmitri had never intended to help. How could he have been such a fool to even imagine such a possibility?
But he could not deny the emptiness the failed hope left in him.
“Sire?” Nahom cleared his throat. “If it does not please Your Majesty to call on Count Zarot, then please, sire, forgive your servant for ever mentioning it.”
Lukan gaped at Nahom.
Large as life, the man sat in his chair as if he had never left the room. Dmitri must have hidden him. He swore.
“Sire?” Nahom’s face was etched with concern.
Lukan straightened up in his chair. As much as it irked, he had no choice but to ask, “Count Zarot? To what end?”
Nahom’s fingernails gouged into the desk. “He may have additional information for us, sire. Things he has not yet divulged about the Pathfinder Alliance’s resources.”
Why hadn’t he thought of that?
“Because you’re nothing but a fool,” the voices said. “A crazy, insane, mad fool.”
He flinched. “Bring me Stefan Zarot. Now.”
Nahom stood and bowed, “I will see it done, sire.” He almost ran from the room.
The air rustled behind Lukan.
It had to be the dead.
Was Dmitri going to rescue Zarot before Nahom could get to him?
“Over my dead body. Nahom will get there first.” He grabbed his informa intending to command Nahom to run to Zarot’s jail cell. “Dragon’s curses!” He had Nahom’s informa. He pulled up Morass’s screen.
Morass was dead.
And then he could think of no one else to call. He dropped his informa onto the desk. Nahom would either bring him Stefan Zarot, or news that the traitor had gone.
Seventeen
A Gift
Lynx loved parties, and no one threw a better party than the Trevenites.
The Red Cavern, named for the ruby-red ice crystal columns holding up a blood-red roof, thronged with people.
Some crowded around tables spread with food in quantities and variety she had never before seen in the mines. The Chenayans had abandoned warehouses filled with rations. Some of that food had made it onto these tables.
Even more people swayed to the pounding of kettle drums, the tinkling of cymbals, and the lilting melody of flutes. How she wished she still had her fiddle. She would have joined the musicians for sure. Instead, her foot tapped along with the music.
Axel was yet to dance with her. She’d latched arms with him ages ago to drag him to the dance floor, but he was deep in conference with her father, Jerawin, and Chad. They were discussing Nicholas’s demand that they avoid engaging in firefights with the mind-controlled in Cian. She probably should have joined in, but right now she wanted to kick back and enjoy the evening.
Yes, they still had challenges, some seemingly insurmountable, but after the hardest year of her life, she had gotten her greatest wish. Her son was reunited with her and Axel. That was worth celebrating. In the morning, they could talk again about all the challenges and conflicts they faced.
She tugged Axel’s arm. “Enough. Come, it’s time to dance.”
He patted her hand. “In a minute.”
“Your minutes last about an hour. So, either you come now, or I’m going to find some Trevenite hunk to dance with.”
Her father and Chad laughed. Jerawin nodded sagely.
She made a show of looking around at the available men. “Treygan will do nicely. He’s tall, handsome, and smart.” Well over six feet tall, with his long red hair pulled severely back from his fine-boned face, Treygan had classic Trevenite beauty.
Axel glared at her. “Treygan cannot possibly dance as well as a burnt-out Chenayan warlord.”
“Then how about you prove it?” Lynx replied, trying to stop herself from laughing at him.
He looked pained, torn between coming with her and continuing his conversation.
Jerawin shoved his shoulder. “Go, this can wait. Never miss an opportunity to dance with a beautiful woman.”
Axel sighed, making Lynx laugh even more. If anyone needed a break from Dmitri’s curse, it was him. She tugged his hand. “Come.”
He let her pull him into the sway of dancers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. He clasped her hips and pulled her toward him. Their bodies melded together. His familiar smell of the wind, clean water, and the wild places in Norin took her straight back home.
They hadn’t discussed what would happen after the war. Maybe because he shared her fear that they might not survive it. But if they did… Her heart clenched. Nothing would make her happier than to take Axel to Norin. He’d once said that he’d like to be a raider. To do that, he’d have to raid an egg. She would sponsor him… She sighed. It was a wonderful dream.
No! she snapped at herself. They aren’t dreams. They’re goals worth fighting for.
Axel kissed her cheek. “You do know that I love you? Even if I annoy you by not dancing when you want me to.”
“Forever and always.”
He let go of her hips to tug on her arms. She let him pull them away from his neck. He grabbed her hands. Laughing, he spun around, pulling her with him. Her boot hooked on his, and she stumbled. “Twenty years on, and you’re still falling over my feet, princess. I’ll have bruises in the morning.” His beautiful honey-brown eyes glinted at her.
They took her straight back to the great hall in the palace on the first night she had ever danced with him. The night he’d told her about ice crystals and electricity. He had also asked her to be his lover. Since then, they’d had so little time just to play.
“Spin me,” she pleaded. “As fast as you can.”
He tightened his grip on her hands and twirled. Faster and faster they spun until she was almost too giddy to stand.
“Axel Avanov, almost from the moment I met you, you’ve never stopped sweeping me off my feet,” she said through her laughter.
He shot her his most derisive smile. “I told you I was irresistible. You didn’t believe me.”
“So smug. Do you blame me?”
He slowed their spinning, letting them sway together while the world settled on its axis.
“Stefan claims I was already in love with you before we even arrived in Cian,” Axel murmured.
Heat pooled in his core. “Were you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really. Now, is what matters. And tomorrow. And the day we’re free.” She pulled into him again and wrapped her arms around him, wanting to be as close as possible.
He enveloped her in his arms.
Someone cleared their throat. It sounded like Clay. “I wouldn’t disturb you, but—”
“Go away,” Axel growled.
“Sorry, can’t do that,” Clay said. “I got a garbled message from Anna. She and Nicholas…”
Lynx and Axel fell apart and looked at Clay.
“Where are they?” Axel demanded.
“Cascades.” Clay held up his informa. An image of Nicholas hovered above it. Amid a hail of bullets, he lay flat on a rock on the side of a mountain. That he and Anna hadn’t been shot was a miracle. Either the people doing the shooting weren’t particularly proficient, or they weren’t aiming to kill. It had to be Xipal’s child army.
Lynx gripped her stomach with both hands, fighting sudden nausea. Without question, she had to protect her son and Anna, but how could they fight against children? Especially lost children who’d been lured into this war by the promise of a regular meal.
Axel dragged her out of the Red Cavern. The tunnel leading to it was jammed with people. She, Axel, and Clay pushed through the crowds until they reached a side passage. In its relative quietness, Axel yanked out his informa and started snapping orders at the platoon leaders on guard
duty.
Lynx grabbed his hand. “We can’t send an army out to kill children.”
Axel stopped speaking into his informa. He said to her, “You would risk Nicholas—”
“Of course not. Let’s send out a task force to rescue Nicholas and Anna. Once they are safe, we can rescue the children.”
Axel blinked at her. “Rescue the children? They’re the enemy, Lynx.”
“They’re boys caught up in a war because they were hungry. Just like Dip and String and the others in Cian. We can no more kill them than…” She suddenly understood Nicholas’s objection to killing the mind-controlled. “Than we can kill Lukan’s guardsmen.”
“This is hardly the same thing,” Axel objected. “These boys will gladly slit our throats. Just the way Lukan’s guardsmen will if given half a chance.”
“Axel, we can argue the rights and wrongs of this after we’ve rescued Nicholas and Anna. In the meantime, please give the order to disarm the boys.”
He threw up his hands. “And then? What the hell do I do with them?”
She floundered for a moment, then said, “The mines are huge. We have space to stash them where they won’t threaten anyone.”
He looked at her as if she were crazy. “We don’t have time to argue this, so I will agree, on condition that if they shoot at us, we shoot back.”
“Without doubt. The minute they become hostile, they’re the enemy.”
Clay cleared his throat. “If you two have quite finished, Blue, Nao Woo, and Hinge are heading to the Cascades. I’m joining them. We’ll get Nicholas and Anna back inside.”
“I’m going with you.” Lynx kissed Axel’s cheek and turned to run.
Axel grabbed the back of her uniform. “No, Lynx. It’s—”
She rounded on him. “Clay’s right, every moment we waste talking could be fatal.”
She leaned in to kiss him but he kissed her first. “Be safe. Contact me as soon as you’re back in the mine.”
Lynx and Clay darted down the passageway.
“I need my shotgun,” she said to him as they ducked below a narrow archway.
“Taken care of. Everything we need will be there. We just need to move.”
