Chapter 41
Cassius tried to gurgle a reply. Timon let go of him and leaned back, blood on his mouth. Exhaustion grayed his skin.
“Ask him why he let the Conclave fall to chaos,” he said, his breath coming harsh from his chest. “Ask him why he chose to aid the Erebusians rather than stop them.”
Clamping his hand over his throat, Cassius cursed the Riders who stood over him. “I was trying to save us, save the Brotherhood.” His gaze shifted to Timon. “You were too blind to see what a victory for the Conclave would mean for us. If there was a true peace, the need for our services would be gone. Humans and Opiri could move freely without fear of attack, create their own forces to hold back the raiders and tribesmen. We would become obsolete.”
“You’re wrong,” Jamie said, crossing the room. “Peace would take years for both the Citadels and the Enclaves. There would always have been a place for your people, a need for them.”
“And I should trust the opinion of a weak little human, who would be glad to see the Riders disbanded?”
“She isn’t a weak human,” Garret said, shuffling forward, a hand over his wound. “She’s my wife’s vassal, soon to be a Freeblood. The virus altered her transformation, but she is one of us now.”
“There is no ‘us,’” Cassius spat. “You Freebloods are nothing but savages.”
“Who is the savage here?” Timon asked. “You are as responsible for the deaths here as the Erebusians.” He paused, as if a sudden revelation had hit him with blinding force. “Who were the employers looking for the Enclave’s secret, Cassius? It was the Erebusians, wasn’t it?”
Cassius only glared, but Jamie understood. “They intended all along to expose us as guilty of carrying the virus,” she said. “They would have announced that they suspected us from the beginning, so that it would appear that they were the true advocates of peace, and we were the enemy from the very beginning.”
“But they already knew that Amos was part of the plan,” Timon said. “They wanted all possibilities covered.” He turned to Cassius. “We know how the Erebusians infected some Riders when we visited Erebus. They must also have infected humans and Opiri directly, here at the Conclave.”
“Ask the Erebusians. I don’t know all their tricks.”
“And where are the Erebusians now, to stand up for you?”
“With us,” Artemis called from the front of the tent. She led four Freebloods clumped around two Opiri—Erebusians, Jamie thought, with their hoods pulled low over their faces.
“Meet Lords Makedon and Lykos,” Artemis said, flipping back their hoods to reveal their pinched faces and a few recent bruises. “We caught them as they fled from the Conclave.”
Cassius flinched, and Timon nodded slowly. “You lost your only allies, who used your own Riders as vectors for their disease when they were infected at Erebus.”
“Where is the cure?” Artemis demanded.
Timon held up his hand and addressed the Riders. “Will you interfere?” he asked.
“Cassius is no longer worthy of the Brotherhood,” the dark Rider said. “We follow you now, Timon.”
“Then take charge of the Erebusians, free your Brothers from confinement and be prepared to gather the human and Opir delegates.” He turned to squeeze Cassius’s torn neck. “You will take us to the cure. Now.”
All the fight gone out of him, Cassius allowed himself to be dragged to his feet and stumbled ahead of them out of the tent, passing through ranks of Freebloods guarding the remaining Erebusians. As Opiri and human delegates began to emerge from their tents, Cassius led everyone to the Rider barracks, where he revealed a solar refrigeration unit hidden beneath bundles of supplies.
“Distribute this to all the humans in the camp, and every afflicted Opiri, and the virus will be destroyed,” he said in a flat, emotionless voice. “Any Opir who drinks from a human with the cure will himself be cured.”
“And the people who may have left the encampment?” Timon asked. “We know the virus has spread beyond the Conclave.”
Cassius laughed with self-mockery. “Who better to find them than the Riders, led by Captain Timon?”
* * *
Timon looked at Jamie, and the expression in her eyes told him that she had understood Cassius’s meaning perfectly. The Riders loyal to Timon and the cause of peace would surely expect him to continue to lead them indefinitely. Her despair affected him deeply, but not only because he shared her pain.
It told him all he needed to know.
He took her slender hand. She gripped his palm as if she wanted their very flesh to become one. His need for blood was growing, and yet he wanted to sweep Jamie off her feet and forget the problems of the Conclave, forget the cure, forget everything.
But he was still in possession of his sanity. After a few seconds, he let her go and stepped back.
“Ms. McCullough,” he said formally, “will you administer the cure to my father?”
“With great pleasure.” She nodded to Garret, who came forward on Artemis’s arm. Jamie found syringes and gave Garret the injection. The change was not immediate; the only hint that the cure was working came in the shrinking of the bullet wound in Garret’s shoulder, almost too gradual to perceive.
She then used three needles to inject Artemis, Timon and herself, mumbling about acquiring an additional supply in the human clinic.
“We have to get this to the other sick Opiri as quickly as possible,” Timon said. “The Riders will gather them, and you can pass the cure among the humans.”
“Will they want to help the Opiri after the way they’ve been treated?” Artemis asked.
“Everyone in the Conclave will know how they have been used and manipulated.” He glanced from Cassius to Amos. “You will have to face the consequences of your acts, along with the Erebusians.”
“Do you think your threats frighten me?” Cassius asked.
“I won’t be the one deciding your fate.” Timon looked up as his Riders, led by Orpheus, crowded into the tent. “Have the others told you what must be done?” he asked Orpheus.
The golden-haired Rider nodded, though not without a hint of reluctance. “The wounds between Brothers will take some time to heal. But we understand.”
“You are in charge of rounding up all the delegates and bringing them to the Hub,” he said. “I hope you won’t have to fight, but use whatever means necessary to get them in one place.”
“Understood.” Orpheus signaled to the two groups of Riders, and they left the tent together. Timon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked for Jamie. She was with her mother, their heads bent close together as they spoke to each other. Timon could imagine the strain and emotion of their reunion.
He gripped Garret’s shoulder on his way to Jamie, earning a ragged smile from his father and a grave nod from his stepmother. Jamie looked up as he approached, and Eileen met his gaze without flinching.
“You two will wish to talk,” she said, gently separating herself from her daughter.
“Yes,” Timon said, guiding Jamie away with a hand at the small of her back. He was deeply disturbed to see that his hand was trembling.
“You need blood,” Jamie said, stopping to face him. “We need to find you an infected human before—”
“It won’t do any good,” he said. “I lied to you before, Jamie. There is no antidote for the blood-bond except for avoiding all blood for as long as possible, including the original partner’s.”
“You mean you’ve been starving yourself since I changed?”
“It hasn’t been that long, and—”
“Long enough.”
“It makes no difference,” he said. “I have to go through with it.”
“If only my blood would still work for you...”
“We have no time
for that now, Jamie.”
“Timon—”
“The Conclave is about to become a dangerous place again, and we’ll need all our wits about us.”
“Until the truth is known,” Jamie said, lifting her chin.
“That’s what I intend to make sure of. If the Riders can’t handle the delegates, I’ll ask my stepmother to send Freebloods to help them. If your mother is willing, she can help you distribute the cure among the humans.”
“Of course,” Eileen said, joining them. “It is what I’ve always wanted.”
“Yes,” Jamie said, her blue eyes bright with a calm wisdom. “But there’s something else that needs to be done. It’s time to share my other secret, Timon. When the people have gathered, human and Opiri, I will tell them that they are far more alike than they ever dreamed.”
“No,” Timon said sharply. “The very existence of the Conclave is hanging by a thread. It’s not the right time.”
“When will it ever be?” she challenged. Her eyes narrowed. “You think it’ll never be safe, don’t you? That it should be kept a secret forever? Are you worried those who object to the data will attack me?”
Timon cupped her chin in his hand. “I’ve let you risk yourself too many times, because I respect your courage. But not this time. Now, let us take Cassius and Amos to the Administrative Committee and tell them what’s happened.”
Jamie went silent. A little of the tension left Timon’s body. She wouldn’t fight him on the matter of her secret; she knew what was most important. And he loved her all the more for it.
For the next few hours, he kept Jamie close at his side. He, along with Garret, Artemis, Eileen, Orpheus and their Opir and human prisoners, met with the Committee and the Administrative Committee, where the guilty ones were given the promise of protection from attack by angry delegates in exchange for their confessions. The Committee members were grim; most of them seemed ready to admit that they were partially culpable in allowing matters to proceed so far, especially since they had known that the Erebusians has been the Riders’ “secret” employers all along.
With the Committee’s full backing, they set Timon’s plan into motion. The Riders split and carried the news of the cure through the human and Opir districts, instructing the delegates to gather near the Hub. Those who didn’t believe were gently encouraged to do as they were asked, but there was no violence.
They made a priority of giving the cure to the ill Opiri, and then distributed it to the humans exposed to the virus. Jamie soon informed Timon that more of it would have to be produced to cover infected humans and Opiri outside the Conclave, but Eileen assured them that she and Jamie could do the work once they had access to a complete lab in one of the Enclaves.
Timon refused to think of what that would mean, just as he’d pushed aside all other thoughts of the future beyond the Conclave. The problems of the present remained pressing enough. Even as the cure was being given, humans and Opiri began to demand to know where it had come from. Timon brought the Committee and prisoners before the delegates and stepped back to let Pheidon explain. At the last minute, the Erebusian lords lost their courage and tried to escape.
A mob of humans and Opiri caught them. There were screams and cries of rage as the two groups fought over the prisoners, each claiming the right to seek revenge.
Timon mounted Lazarus and led the Riders in among the crowd, using his staff to push people aside and away from their prey. But it wasn’t enough. In the ability to hate, there was little difference between humans and their enemies.
He was sending out a call for more Riders when someone shouted behind him. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, and he wheeled Lazarus around.
Jamie stood on the dais hastily constructed in front of Rider headquarters, her arms flung wide. She shouted again, slowly gaining the attention of the observers closest to the dais.
Timon started for Jamie, but more people were turning toward her, blocking his path. He used his staff to push his way through. By the time he reached the foot of the dais, half the Opiri and humans were focused on her, and she had begun to speak.
“Do not let them win!” she cried. “Do not let those who would destroy peace speak and act for all of us!”
Chapter 42
A hush fell over the encampment, and even Timon was transfixed. The slightly awkward, uncertain Jamie he’d known at the beginning of their journey was gone. In her place stood a poised young woman with absolute conviction in her voice, drawing all attention to her as if she’d worked some magic spell.
“Humans do not speak for Opiri!” an Opir yelled.
“Nor Opiri for humans!” a human countered.
“Be quiet, all of you!” Jamie said. Timon dismounted and jumped onto the dais, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jamie. He couldn’t stop her now. He wouldn’t.
“You claim that humans and Opiri can’t speak for each other,” Jamie said, her voice carrying across the Hub. “But the gap between you is far narrower than you imagine.” She took a deep breath. “Science has proven a truth that has been kept secret for many years, a secret that can finally unite our peoples, in the same way the makers of the virus attempted to tear us apart.”
“The Opiri tried to kill us!” someone shouted.
“How many humans would have let us die?” another replied.
“Silence!” Timon roared.
“Hear her out!” a woman called.
“Yes, let her speak!”
Jamie glanced at Timon, smiled and stepped forward. “I will tell you that secret now,” she said to the crowd. “Opiri and humans share a common ancestor.”
The noise of protests and gasps and burst of conversation rose up like a cloud of dust, muffling Jamie’s voice again. Timon leaped down from the dais with his staff and stalked into the crowd, glaring and baring his teeth. A ripple of quiet passed over the watchers.
“I have the research,” Jamie said. “Long ago, in Africa, one of the early hominid lines split off. The original line of hominids lived by hunting game and gathering edible plants, eventually evolving into Homo sapiens, and the other adapted to feed on blood. There were always far more of the former, but the latter survived, learning to hide from those who would hunt them down, just as humans were hunted by them.”
“Impossible!” someone yelled.
“Ridiculous!” said another.
“We have nothing in common,” yelled a third.
“You have everything in common!” Jamie said. “You Opiri would like to think you are above human sentiment, but you fall in love with humans and produce half-bloods like the Riders. You humans reject what you see as the savagery of the Opiri, and yet you engage in wars and violence yourselves. It’s time to recognize that we can only survive by coexisting as kin!”
There were more shouts. As Timon had feared, many refused to accept what Jamie had told them.
But there were some who remained quiet, who seemed to consider what Jamie had said. One Opir woman looked up and raised a clear, calm voice.
“You said you have the research,” she said. “Can you show it to us? Can you prove that what you say is true?”
“Yes,” Jamie said. “It will take time to show all of you, but it can be done. It will be done.”
Timon had never felt such pride. With only a little help from him and the Riders, she had taken control, forced the delegates to listen. And even if many of them rejected the research and left the Conclave, there would be others who would come to believe, who would stay and talk and find common ground.
Jamie had been right.
He had a quick word with Orpheus and the other Rider band leaders, asking them to make certain that the Erebusians were returned to custody and that no more fights broke out. Little by little the crowd drifted apart, humans retreating to their own territory while the Op
iri returned to theirs.
Timon found Jamie embracing her mother. As Timon approached, Eileen released Jamie and glanced warmly at him before moving away. Garret murmured something about finding Artemis and disappeared into the thinning crowd.
“It’s done,” Jamie said, grinning at Timon with unalloyed happiness in her eyes. “And you didn’t think I could do it.”
“I always knew you could,” he said, taking her hands. “I was, however, afraid of the consequences. I was wrong.”
She touched his cheek. “You only wanted to protect me. That’s what you’ve always wanted.”
No, he thought. It’s so much more than that.
“Let’s walk by the river,” he said, tucking her hand through the crook of his elbow.
“Now?” she asked, looking around. “There’s so much to be—”
“Now,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to bother us.”
She let him lead her along the thoroughfare toward the west and the bosk. The sun was high, but Jamie still showed no sensitivity toward it, nor had her teeth or skin begun to change. Would she ever become fully Opir?
As if in answer to his unspoken question, she suddenly burst into a run faster than any human could manage. She was as graceful as a doe in flight, speeding far ahead of him before he thought to chase her. When he did catch her, laughing and panting, he was in no doubt that she was something new and different come into the world.
He opened his arms, and she fell into them. He silenced her laughter with a kiss, the savage bubbling up in him all over again. She responded with equal urgency, lacing her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes.
“Timon,” she murmured against his mouth. “Oh, Timon, we’ve won.”
He held her close, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin, of the blood underneath. She wasn’t that naive. But her faith had brought them this far.
Perhaps she was right.
“Bite me,” she said, arching her neck backward.
Hunger flooded through him. “You know I can no longer draw sustenance from your blood,” he whispered, kissing her ear.
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