Bloodflower

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Bloodflower Page 33

by K. J. Harrowick


  A third Flame so strong this person can draw from both energy sources as one.

  Jon needed to connect with the darkness.

  You have to unite the Flames, or you’ll die. But if you do, who knows where you’ll end up.

  Jon and Éli never bonded one another to tie Jon to the Dark Flame.

  Her power was killing Jon.

  She scrambled off the bed and dressed quickly, an awful dread sinking into her gut. “Thomas!”

  Thomas crashed through the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “When did this start?” Jàden spied the dagger she’d lost in Felaren sitting on the table and sheathed it alongside its twin. “How long has Jon been sick?”

  “Since Malcolm…” He glared at the open door.

  “I need to speak with Braygen.” Jàden pressed her mouth against Jon’s, the scent of pine and mountain warming her skin. “I know how to save him.”

  Thomas caught her arm. “How?”

  She needed to tell him, but Thomas would never let her leave without one of Jon’s men at her side.

  And Éli’s Rakir would certainly try to kill them.

  If she’d done the math right in her head, Éli’s power was using her bond with Jon to get to him. Whether by intent or because of the vengeance he craved, Éli’s Flame viewed Jon’s energy as an invader.

  “The Flames are hurting him, but I know how to fix it.” By leaving him again. Which was the last thing she wanted to do.

  The Flame’s white fire slid into her veins, diminished under all the heavy darkness. Maybe she didn’t have the risk of losing control of her power anymore, but without Jon sealed to both energies, she and Éli might spend an eternity ebbing and flowing between each other, one always consuming the other.

  She bolted out of the room as a ship rumbled high in the clouds. Frank would find her soon if she didn’t fix this and get them all on the road again.

  Tugging up her hood to hide her face, Jàden trotted over the bridges until she spied Braygen in a hushed conversation with Alida. “I need your help,” she said. “When the captain wakes, take him to the Temple of the Three Moons. He’ll be able to open the doors.”

  At least she hoped so. But he may not be able to open them until the final energy tie was complete.

  Braygen opened his mouth to say something.

  But before he could answer, Jàden raced toward the high meadow.

  It only took a moment for him to catch up with her. “Whatever you’re doing, I’m going with you.”

  “This isn’t your fight,” she said. Braygen had to be Kale, which explained the strong connection with him from his first appearance on the coast, and she wasn’t about to drag him into this. She searched for Agnar. “Besides, the Rakir will kill you.”

  “Rakir?” He caught her wrist. “Do you know what they do to women? You can’t go there alone.”

  “And you can’t come with me. Not anymore.” She laid a hand on his cheek, a sharp pain stabbing her heart. This man was her everything and still held such a tight grip on her heart.

  “What are you talking about?” He grabbed her wrist and stepped closer, towering over her. “My life is yours, Jàden. Where you go, I go.”

  Storms brewed in his eyes and she ached to tell him, but it was time to let him live free. Of her, of Frank, of all the pain he’d once suffered.

  Besides, she loved Jon so much it hurt. He’d kept her alive and safe since she woke up, and it was time for her to set things right.

  “I have to do this.” She stepped away, wishing she could numb the pain in her chest. Someday she’d tell him, but not until Frank was long dead.

  Sumaha and half a dozen women trudged along the path, Alida grinning with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “We spotted Rakir last night on the next ridge. If she’s going to that nest of vipers, we’re coming too.”

  Jàden clenched her fists, glaring at the other women. “No, you’re not coming. They won’t hurt me.”

  Well, Éli wouldn’t. She was counting on him to want to rub his bond with her in Jon’s face.

  “Try and stop us.” Sumaha swung her bow against Jàden’s cheek.

  “Sumaha!” Alida grabbed Jàden’s shoulders to help right her.

  Sharp pain throbbed along her skull as Jàden glared at the orange-flower woman. “What is her fucking problem? I’m trying to save Jon so we can get out of your hair.”

  Alida’s grin disappeared, her vivid green eyes angry. “She is next in line to rule Veradóra, and she’s afraid a Guardian will take command of our kin. Sumaha has a kind heart, but her fear is always shielded by anger.”

  “She’s got no need to worry,” Jàden muttered. “All I want is to set things right and be gone.”

  Dozens of other women followed in Sumaha’s wake, armed with bows and arrows and small vials of green liquid.

  “Poison.” Alida grinned.

  One woman had jagged green lines across her skin. Jàden had seen something similar on bright-colored frogs. Their bodies secreted a mucus that could kill a human in a matter of minutes.

  Maybe she needed these women after all.

  As Alida raced after Sumaha, Jàden shifted her gaze back to Braygen. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone where I’ve gone.”

  He clutched her hands and sighed as if she’d placed the whole world on his shoulders. “I will only keep my silence until Jon has seen the temple. That’s all I can promise.”

  His words stung, but she kissed his cheek, lingering a moment longer than she should. The smell of the rain and trees clung to him. She ached to tell him who he really was and kiss him until she couldn’t breathe, but she wouldn’t be responsible for killing him again.

  Kale was free now, and she would never take that away from him.

  “Thank you,” she said. “And search for any other doors or storage in there. Kale loved his weapons, so there has to be a gun.”

  The Veradórans called their horses with a series of tongue clicks. Agnar was easy to find, trotting up to Jàden, his ears pricked forward. He shoved his nose against her shoulder.

  “Come on, let’s do Mather proud,” she said. “We’re going to save the captain.”

  Agnar tossed his head as if he understood.

  She grabbed his mane and pulled herself onto his back.

  The other women trotted toward her, Sumaha in the lead. “I take you to the Rakir.”

  They raced away from Veradóra, through thickets and vines, along narrow paths and muddy roads. Sleet turned to heavy rain as storm clouds gathered overhead. They followed a narrow game trail south of the village as it slowly angled east.

  Malcolm appeared at her side, a grim determination set in his jaw. “Didn’t think you were going anywhere without me, did you?”

  Jàden cursed under her breath.

  Sumaha slowed her horse, nudging Malcolm backwards until she rode alongside Jàden. “You are going to kill Rakir, right?”

  “They’re hard to kill,” Jàden said. But then, Alida had snapped one’s neck with her thighs in Felaren, so what did she know. “If they move the way Jon and his men do, they’ll have scouts at least a league out.”

  “I do not fear the Rakir.” Sumaha scanned the woods, but deep shadows lurked in her eyes, as if she feared something Jàden couldn’t see. “Alida has pledged her loyalty to you, Guardian, and you will protect her when I cannot.”

  Except Jàden could barely protect herself without a burst of power.

  “Alida’s a strong fighter, but I’ll do my best.”

  Jàden bit her tongue before she made a promise she couldn’t keep.

  Besides, as soon as Jon was well, she had every intention of returning to her bunker and going underground. Whether she decided to leave this world or not, she would finally learn how to pilot a ship.

  “Don’t harm their leader,” she said. “Or the boy and the skinny one who follows him. I don’t care about the rest, but those three have to surv
ive.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t have included Evardo, but Jàden needed to understand how they knew about the starship at the moon’s core.

  Gray gloom pressed through the trees as another storm rolled in.

  She kept a loose cloth over her features as they passed a triangulation sensor. Frank and his soldiers would be watching her now, even if the sky was strangely quiet.

  Tethering the horses at the bottom of the ridge, Jàden climbed with the others.

  “I’m sorry,” Malcolm said as he caught up to her again. The Veradórans melted into the trees and disappeared. “When I drink, I black out.”

  “Now’s really not the time.” She grabbed another branch to help steady herself as she climbed the sharp incline.

  He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. “You saved Ashe where I fucked up and nearly cost everyone their lives. I’m indebted to you, Jàden.”

  She hated seeing the guilt in Malcolm’s eyes, but between worry about Jon and fear that Frank would find her before she could save him, she didn’t have time to console Malcolm’s guilt.

  “Then help me save Jon,” she said. “He and Éli need to tie their energy into a bond. Jon once told you all that my life was more important than his, but now that’s changed. He’s the key. To everything.”

  Alida’s pale hair flashed further up the incline before she disappeared behind a tree trunk. By the time Jàden caught up, the jungle was dead silent.

  Laughter echoed ahead, along with horse whinnies. She crawled onto the ledge and under a thick bush, a cluster of orange flowers on one side that could only be Sumaha, and parted the branches toward a line of picketed horses.

  A young boy brushed a stallion which had turned a dark chestnut.

  “Connor,” the old man whispered. “He’s alive.”

  “Who is he?” Jàden searched the other faces, spotting Evardo when they stood up between two horses.

  “The captain’s nephew. He’s supposed to be dead.” Malcolm tightened his fist. “Fucking Hareth.”

  Fucking Hareth indeed, but where was he? Two dozen horses were picketed between the trees, but only three men sat near the fire sharpening their weapons.

  Steel touched the back of her neck. “The commander said we might have a visitor or two. Guess we’ve got us a pretty prize today and a dead man who ain’t in his grave yet.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Temple of the Three Moons

  Jon shivered in the morning chill. Bumps rose along his arms. He’d passed out after making love to Jàden and forgot to keep the hearth lit. Rolling onto his side, he reached across the bed for his wife’s gentle warmth, but all he found was cold sheets as the wind howled through the trees.

  “Where are you, baby?” Pushing onto his elbow, every muscle in his body dragged like they were stuffed with lead. His head pounded, a slick oily energy threatening to suffocate his senses.

  Thomas shoved open the door and stormed in. “Jàden’s gone again. Dusty and Theryn are shadowing her.”

  He nodded toward the open door. “And this guy out here needs to speak with you. Says it’s important.”

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” Jon tried to stand, but his knees hit the ground. He grabbed the edge of the bed and pushed to his feet, as naked as the day his mother gave birth to him. “Maybe I should find my pants.”

  He fumbled for his clothes, trying to will the leaded weight in his veins away. Belting his weapons on, Jon stumbled to the door.

  Fuck, he felt like shit.

  “What do you want?” Jon muttered as he stepped outside. The fresh rain sharpened his senses, but damn if he didn’t want to crawl back into bed with his wife.

  “Braygen.” The man ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “Herana asked me to show you something.”

  That guy. Jon grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the hut wall. “I hear you’ve been sniffing around my wife.”

  This had to be him, her new lover or whatever he was. Ashe had told him how close he was sticking, even curled up with her a few nights ago in a larger tree. Jon wasn’t about to put her life in the hands of the prick who left her to rot.

  A grin spread across Braygen’s features, no fear in his eyes. “Should I make you the same offer as well? To push back that lonely grief clutching you tight.”

  Jon had no idea what offer Braygen had made to Jàden, but as soon as he got his bearings he’d have words about it. A wave of vertigo washed over him. He leaned his forehead against Braygen’s shoulder so he didn’t fall again.

  The man untangled Jon’s hands and gently shoved him upright.

  Braygen pulled back his collar, exposing part of a tattoo. “I have sworn an oath by my skin to protect the Guardian, and she has given me an order to show you the temple.”

  Ashe’s hand rested on his shoulder. “You need to see for yourself, Captain.”

  Clenching his jaw, Jon wanted to sort this business out right now, but with Jàden running off again, he had to get her back before anything else. He stepped away and lit a cigarette, grateful for Ashe’s strong grip. “I need my horse.”

  “Jàden found what she was looking for.” Braygen stepped onto the bridge, gesturing for him to follow. “She insisted I show you.”

  “Always about fucking Kale.” That bastard was going to be the death of him.

  Jon pointed at the twins and gestured: Find her.

  They didn’t budge as Ashe gestured back: After.

  Jon grunted and glared at him. He wanted to go back to bed and sleep for a week, but he nodded at Braygen. “Fine. Lead the way.”

  What a fucking miserable mess. One day was all he asked, to be with Jàden and let the rest of the world disappear. He followed the Veradóran to the far side of the village, holding the rail at times when the dizziness hit. The twins stayed back as if they didn’t trust these strangers to remain peaceful.

  Not that Jon did either.

  He tossed the cigarette aside, stopping in front of a steel door. “What is this?”

  Braygen held up the frosted square. “She says you can open this.”

  White light faded to blue when he slapped his hand against the smooth material. The steel door slid open, revealing a lit hallway beyond.

  Jon stepped inside to the same glassy smoothness as the old prison near Nelórath. He stopped in front of the carved script.

  “Don’t like this shit, Captain.” Andrew’s hand itched toward his sword. Ashe hung back.

  “Light cannot exist without darkness,” he muttered, but the harder he tried to concentrate, the more that devouring darkness ate through his senses.

  Braygen gestured to the second door panel at the end of the hall. “Herana believes you will be able to open it.”

  “Woman’s out of her damn mind.” This place felt too much like the prison—too much like a trap. He pressed his palm to the second illuminated square.

  The door slid open to a lit chamber.

  Stale air greeted his nose, that same dusty, metallic scent he’d smelled long ago when he’d stepped through the red fires. His muscles tensed as he wrapped his hands around his daggers and stepped inside.

  “You’re one of the three,” Braygen whispered.

  “I ain’t no such thing.” Jon scanned the chamber, no clue what the hell that man was prattling on about.

  Dozens of statues circled the outer wall. His gaze drew to the central stone tree circled by three additional monoliths. Jàden’s sweet face stared back at him. He crept around the exterior, searching the deeper shadows for any movement.

  The hairs on the back of his neck went up.

  “There’s no one here.” Braygen circled the statues as if searching for something, but Jon couldn’t imagine what.

  Jon released his daggers and shuffled toward the two faceless rocks near the central tree, tracing his fingers along the glass of the first. “You said she found what she was looking for.”

  The ground
shifted beneath his feet until his face rose from the rock, his body covered in a uniform like Jàden’s with a wolf on his left shoulder surrounded by flames. He carried a sword in one hand and a gun in the other.

  “Fuck me,” Jon said.

  “Captain, let’s get the fuck out of this place.” Andrew unsheathed two of his daggers, his body coiled tight like a viper.

  Braygen gestured toward the statue. “Touch the screen, Jon. That is where you’ll find your answers.”

  Jon pressed his hand to the glass as light flashed across the surface, illuminating symbols from the old world: Begin transmission.

  He poked them with his finger. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

  The words swept away as he leaned against the statue, sweat beading along his neck. Bands of shadow filtered over a metal wall indented with long, hollow spaces stuffed with blankets. Orange light glowed across pale, hollow features.

  A man in a strange gray shirt sat in a chair, the bloodflower emblem on each shoulder. Yet it was the anger and grief in his eyes that held Jon in place.

  “Kale.” Jon clenched his fist, dark jealousy bleeding into his senses. The first time he’d seen Kale on the glass, Jon thought him a man trapped inside. Now he understood—the magic glass showed him real people who once existed. Jon had more than a few words to say to this bastard. “You’re Kale, aren’t you?”

  “If you’re watching this video, I’m already dead.” The man coughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “My name is Commander Jason Kale, Enforcer Second Class, and you used to be me.”

  Jon closed his mouth and bit back his words, his heart beating faster. “This can’t be right.”

  “I’ll soon be born into another body. Yours.” Kale ran a hand over his buzz-cut hair, distress in the movement. “So first, let’s cut the bullshit and get right to the truth.”

  A small image of Jàden appeared in the bottom corner. “Her name’s Jàden Ravenscraft, and she’s in a lot of trouble.”

  Kale leaned back in his chair, a gun gripped in his hand. He popped the glowing glass orb free from the hilt and pressed it back in. “Jàden touches the Violet Flame, an energy source generated by technology deep in the moon’s core, and its power is waking up. Soon, she won’t be able to control it. We made plans to leave this place and start over on another world, but my father abducted her. I’ve spent two years trying to find her again.”

 

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