Kester made a low sound, something like a laugh but with no humour in it.
“He thinks to use you as his shield while they escape. It is insulting.”
“Really?” Arrow’s brows lifted. “You could tell that from one stare?”
Kester’s mouth twitched in a smile, amber flaring through his eyes for a moment before the humour vanished. “I have met his kind before.”
“As have I. Over-confident bullies.” Her eyes tracked the humans ahead of them. Dorian had caught up and the two were having what looked like a furious argument, both gesturing wildly, Juniper not backing down.
“Indeed. And this one is armed.”
The speculation in his voice made Arrow check in her stride and turn to him.
“They will be more uneasy and feel more vulnerable without their weapons. Besides, do you really wish to drag two unwilling humans across this land?”
“I was thinking of tying them to a rock,” Kester answered, voice a mild tone at odds with his plans.
Arrow choked on a laugh but shook her head. There were no rocks big enough around them at the moment.
“And leave them as surjusi fuel? Not a good idea.”
“True.” Kester heaved a sigh. If she had not been looking for it, she would have missed the smile. “We will just have to keep an eye on them.” He tilted his head. “I think they have finished arguing. We should continue on.”
They paused when Kester, more experienced in travel, estimated they had been walking for about a day. To Arrow’s surprise, Dorian had persisted with carrying the pack, showing little fatigue as they went. When they stopped, shared some water and some of the food from the backpack, they all realised that none of them were particularly tired despite the distance covered. It made the magicians visibly uneasy.
Arrow sent her senses out again, making sure they were still travelling in the right direction. The trace of Erith magic was stronger as they moved closer. Still a fair distance away, but clearer. The familiar amber of wards. What type of ward she could not tell yet.
And so she held them on course, wards damped down as far as possible. No one wanted to attract attention. And they might not be tired yet, but there was nothing here to refuel and the backpack’s supplies, and small amount Arrow had managed to stuff into her messenger bag, would not last forever.
~
They were walking single file in a shallow dip in the ground, the sides strewn with small rocks and pebbles that slid underfoot. Kester was at the rear, Arrow in front of him, the humans keeping a steady pace.
The sword flared, blinding against the dark, the only warning before more nightmare creatures swarmed down the shallow, rocky slopes.
Arrow drew the sword, silver spreading out, casting the shapes into sharp relief. She heard what she thought was a scream. Juniper. A shout of fury. Dorian. The quiet hiss of steel being drawn. Kester.
Then the sword was moving, taking her with it, knowing what was needed. No time to extend her wards. No time to protect the others. There were more creatures this time, of varying sizes. They made almost no sound, just a deep rumble, like rocks grinding together, at the edge of her hearing, the low noise sending vibrations through the ground, shaking loose some of the pebbles.
Her foot slipped, sending her to her knee, jolt travelling up her spine, sword wavering for a moment in its path, missing the clean cut through the nearest demon. The demon whipped around, too fast for something that large, and bore down on her, darkness parting to an endless, bottomless mouth.
The sword rose again, feet back under her, silver cutting through the dark, dust spattering out from where the demon had been. There was no time to pause. On to the next one. And the next. And the next.
Eventually, they were all gone. The rocky slopes were covered in piles of dust, and she was shaking with effort and reaction, grey weight of death all around.
Arrow was on her knees with no memory of how she had got there, body racked with a fine trembling that she could not stop, teeth chattering together, eyes blind.
Warm hands on her shoulders and a familiar scent. Her favourite. Cardamom and weapons oil, with a hint of citrus underneath. Kester.
She blinked, blind eyes still useless. She was alone in her head, ears ringing with the echoes of the creatures’ death.
The hands moved down along her arms, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. She had not realised she was cold. The hands met hers, skin burning for a moment until she turned her hands in the grasp, fingers intertwined, awkward as there was something in one of her hands.
“Arrow.” The first sound. Kester’s voice, low and worried.
“Yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“What do you need?”
She shook her head slightly, not really knowing. But there was something. “I am cold.”
The hands moved and she found herself drawn into a hug. Not the first time Kester had held her. Her senses were overwhelmed at once. Nose full of the familiar, welcome scents. Warmth creeping through her body, tips of her ears heating up under her hair. Her fingers twitched. She still had the sword hilt in one hand, sliding the other hand around Kester’s waist, holding him back.
She blinked again and her eyes finally cleared.
For all the shared warmth, they were kneeling in an awkward position, her sword set out to one side, too many knees in too small a space. He did not seem to mind. One hand stroked her hair, more powerful than the static charge of surjusi.
“Better?”
“Better.” She straightened away, suddenly remembering that they had an audience, looking around for Dorian’s scowl and Juniper’s sneer. “Where are they?”
“They ran when the surjusi attacked. At least, Juniper ran and Dorian followed.” Kester sat back too, one hand cupping her face, heat blooming under his touch. “Are you alright?”
“Yes. No. I am not sure. This realm does not work like the first world.”
“That is true.” His hand was still on her face. “You were lost for a moment.”
“Yes.” She bit her lip, meeting his eyes. “You found me.”
“Always.” His mouth curved in a smile and her breath caught. Hoping for another kiss. Perhaps more than one. Instead, he blew out a breath. “We should not linger. Sadly. We should probably try and find the humans. They have the backpack.”
Kester rose in an easy, graceful movement. Arrow scrambled to her feet, only remembering to put away the sword when she was back on her feet.
She looked around at the scattered dust and nausea rose. There had been far more surjusi this time.
“There were a lot of smaller ones this time,” Kester commented, following the direction of her eyes. “I am not sure if that means anything.”
Arrow walked over to the nearest pile and stirred the dust with her foot. Nothing. There was no spark of life, no remnant of magic or life. It was just dust. She lifted her head and looked around them at the vast lands that were, so far, fairly flat. And made up of dark coloured dust. She shivered, wondering how much of the ground under their feet was made up of dead surjusi.
~
The surjusi dust was long behind them. Kester had not pressed her to talk about the sword or what she had done, for which she was grateful. She was not sure what she could have said to him, the conclusions she had drawn sounding far-fetched even in her own head. He had held her hand for a while as they started out at a slower pace. The simple contact, still new to her, was also something she was grateful for, only wondering after quite some distance of walking if he had made the gesture partly for his own peace of mind, also needing something to hold on to in this strange place.
At some point, by silent and mutual agreement, they had let go of each other’s hands and picked up the pace, striding out. They kept watch for the magicians, Kester moving out to one side then the other, as far as he could go and still know where she was, while Arrow kept on a straight line towards the cluster of Erith magic, also straining
her eyes and senses to search. No sign of Dorian or Juniper. They had run forwards, Kester had confirmed. So if the magicians looped back to try and find Kester and Arrow, they should find them. Or the humans might keep going forward, in which case they should also find them. Eventually. As long as the magicians travelled in more or less the right direction.
They travelled at Arrow’s pace, an approximation of the rapid walk which all servants learned in the Taellaneth. She had lengthened her stride, trying to achieve the smooth, ground-swallowing pace she had seen the White Guard use on many occasions. Kester kept the pace easily, even with the far longer journey he was making. When he was close enough, she saw he was scanning their surroundings with an intent expression. Watching for more danger. Or perhaps simply still looking for the humans.
The landscape was changing, finally. The featureless plain that had stretched as far as she could sense was gradually giving way to an upward slope like the foothills of a mountain. The ground underfoot was changing, too, the occasional scattered rocks and pebbles growing more frequent. Looking ahead, Arrow could see the slope continuing, rising more sharply. Very much like the foothills of a mountain.
There was no path, naturally, so they kept going forward, picking their way between stones that grew larger and more frequent, skirting around the occasional boulder as the way grew steeper.
Habit rather than fatigue made her pause near a particularly large boulder, Kester stopping as well, lifting an eyebrow in silent question.
“A short rest,” she said, not sure if it was a request or suggestion.
“Good idea. We have been walking about another day, I think.”
“And no trace of the magicians.” Arrow shook her head slightly. As well as covering more distance, Kester had not been able to find any trace on the ground. Whatever the substance was, it did not hold footprints, and neither of them had been able to use their second sight to track. The humans were lost. She could only hope that the humans had a decent sense of direction to follow the straight path towards the Erith magic.
Arrow pushed the boulder lightly to see if it was secure on the ground and then drew herself up to sit on it. Her muscles were finally beginning to protest the effort. Two days’ walking, at least, and two brutal fights with no significant rest would have been impossible in the daylight world. Kester settled next to her, shoulders touching, and she leant into the contact, insides fluttering when he slid his arm around her, holding her lightly.
“I have missed this,” he said after a while, voice soft with remembrance.
Arrow frowned slightly. They had never sat together like this before, so that could not be what he meant.
“Travelling in the demon realm?”
He laughed softly, arm tightening a moment, and shook his head, his hair brushing her shoulder. He was wearing it loose, in deference to his position on the Taellan, rather than in warrior’s braids.
“No. Travelling,” he said, turning to glance at her and smiling a little. “Before …” His smile faded. “Before the Halsfeld House, I travelled over much of the heartland. On my own or with friends. Later with the White Guard.” He was looking out at the landscape again, and Arrow could feel the tension in his body. Before the Halsfeld House. Simple words, with something far more complicated underneath. Before the Halsfeld House he had smiled, eyes bright. After, things were different. She did not know how to ask about that, so asked about something else, something that he seemed to have enjoyed.
“Where do you go?”
“Before the White Guard? Mostly in the House Nostren territory. Sometimes in House Sena, although Neith was wary of visitors. Very protective of his horses.” His voice held laughter. Neith vo Sena. One of the Taellan, renowned for preferring his stables and their inhabitants to his residence and his family. “House Nostren territory is vast. Mostly islands and ocean. We took a yacht and sailed for months at a time, stopping off at the islands.”
“Ocean,” Arrow echoed, and heard the longing in her voice. “I have often wondered what that is like.”
“Vast. Bigger than you can imagine. Days of nothing but water, then something on the horizon that turns out to be an island. Or a whale.”
“Whales? Are they as big as the stories say?” Arrow turned to see his face as he answered, wondering if he would lie to her.
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair back from her face with a finger.
“Some are. We had a yacht big enough for ten, comfortably, and the first whale we saw was bigger than the yacht.”
Arrow tried, and failed, to imagine a living being that vast. The Academy had a cabinet of curios, teaching aids for the students, which included a jawbone that was supposed to have come from a whale. She had always been sceptical as she did not think that whales had such large, serrated teeth. The jawbone was longer than her arms, clearly having come from a large creature.
“Have you travelled more recently?” she asked and felt his whole body tense against her side. For a moment she thought he might not answer.
“Juinis does not approve,” he said at length. He was not looking at her and she could not read his expression. A lord of the Erith. The head of his adopted House did not approve of his travelling. And Juinis had also somehow drawn Kester out of the White Guard. Not for the first time, Arrow wondered just what agreements had been made when Juinis wed Kester’s younger sister.
“Does he always need to approve?” The words were out almost before she had finished the thought.
He glanced down at her and she saw something dark and angry in his face that snagged her full attention. Old anger. Gathered over years.
“He believes he does,” he answered.
“But you do things he does not approve,” she said, trying to work out the puzzle. Kester had managed to keep training with the White Guard, keeping up connections and friendships that may otherwise have faded when he became part of the Taellan. And Arrow was quite certain that Juinis would not approve of any association with her.
That seemed the right thing to say as the smile returned, bright amber sparks lit in his eyes.
“Many things.” The mischief surprised her, drawing an answering smile from her.
Arrow opened her mouth to say something else and his arm tightened around her. Just a faction. She rested her head against his shoulder and they stayed silent for a few more moments.
“Are we still on course?” Kester asked.
She sent her senses out again, still unable to detect any life apart from theirs. The tangle of Erith magic was still some way ahead.
“Yes. There does not seem to be anything else here. Nothing living, anyway.”
“Can you detect surjusi?” It was simple curiosity, but she tensed. Surjusi were a mystery the Erith had spent lifetimes trying to solve. And her apparent immunity, the apparently special status her abilities gave her, still made her uneasy. She was useful to the Erith, and they did not like letting go of things that were useful. Kester’s arm tightened again for a moment and she thought he might have rested his head against hers for a moment before he released her, standing up. “Never mind.”
“I cannot detect them. The sword does. I am not sure why. Perhaps because it was made to fight spirit.” The words poured out of her in a rush. She could not look at him. She had always been different, excluded from Erith society because of her heritage, forever marked as separate by her silver power.
“Alright.” He was standing in front of her, expression one she could not entirely read except that it made her pulse skip and her breath catch. “Arrow.” He took her hands in his, both of them bearing calluses from hard work, despite his status as a lord among the Erith. “You are special to me. Whatever abilities you have, or do not have.”
She had faced surjusi more than once but ducked away from the intensity of his expression, warmth spreading through her body. She did not think anyone had cared for her that way before. Her skin felt tight, too small to hold everything she was feeling, and there was a silly smile on her face
. She glanced up to find an echoing smile on Kester’s face. They were both silly together. The warmth spread, settled around her heart, a new and welcome sensation.
“We should go,” he said, releasing her hands slowly.
“We should.” She slid off the rock reluctantly and he stepped back to give her room. She had an odd impulse to hold him, wondering what he might do. Hold her back, perhaps. Kiss her again, perhaps. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach out, to see what might happen.
He had turned slightly away to scan their surroundings and she shook her head. Silly, indeed. They had a task to fulfil.
CHAPTER 12
She was about to move on, instinct telling her it would not be wise to stay still for long, when a faint flicker of amber caught her eye. More or less on the path ahead. She touched Kester’s arm silently, calling his attention. He became perfectly still, focused ahead with the single-minded intensity of a hunter.
Curious, she made her way slowly up the slope, trying to be quiet in her movements, wincing as her foot caught a stone and sent it tumbling down, the noise as loud as gunfire in her mind. Kester was beside her, moving with the silent grace all warriors could manage.
Nothing leapt out to attack her and so she kept going until she sensed rather than saw the ground dropping away in front of her. She dropped to a crouch, not wanting to show herself too clearly, Kester still her shadow, scented with cardamom and citrus. There were several large boulders carelessly thrown about just where the ground fell away, and she found a gap between a pair, checking ahead before she went any further.
There was a shallow valley ahead of them, a dip in the ground that could have held the Taellaneth main building, the shadows of it full of sparks of amber. Erith magic. Fainter than she had ever seen, the sparks were drifting slowly in an unseen current, forming a thick trail through the valley.
Trying to read the scene in second sight sent a stab of pain behind her eyes and she blinked to clear them. She had seen enough. There was no Erith life here, just the remnants of magic. The faded aftermath of some spell or other. There was not enough left to tell what.
Taellaneth Complete Series Box Set Page 98
