You’ll miss them, though.
Of course I would. I didn’t intend to leave them forever—just long enough for fate to decide what to do about Aaron and Misha’s bid for the throne, and for me to decide what I wanted to do about an Obsidian prince.
I kicked a pinecone in irritation. It flew up, startling Vance, and was caught by a Shantel guard.
“Finally,” I whispered. They must have been shadowing us for hours, ever since we crossed into Shantel land. Now that they had shown themselves, we would probably make better time.
Their faces were grave, and they made no attempt to speak with us, only waved us ahead and then flanked us as we picked up the pace. They did not take our weapons away this time, which seemed like a good sign. We had threatened Shane in order to escape this forest, but surely it wouldn’t have let us back in unless it knew we were here to try to help.
Not soon enough, we entered the Family home at suppertime. Prince Lucas looked up from a barely touched meal with resignation when we entered.
“My father is looking for Shane,” he said. He added swiftly, “He isn’t missing. He has taken to spending his evenings in the woods instead of his normal quarters, so it sometimes takes a little while to unearth him. I will admit, we did not think you would return. Did you make it to Midnight?”
“Barely,” I answered, thinking of the way the forest had dumped us in the middle of serpiente royal guards. If that group had included Hara instead of Aaron, or if Aaron hadn’t been quite as swayed by Misha’s words about our guild, our story would have ended very differently.
“I’m sorry,” Lucas answered. I suspected he knew exactly where we had ended up. “I am glad you are safe.” The words were flawlessly polite, but his body vibrated with tension as he asked, “What did Midnight have to say?”
Vance handed him the sheath of papers from Jeshickah. “We convinced her to deal instead of just burning you out, but she didn’t accept the deal you offered. This is her counteroffer. You have one week … five days, now … to send a reply.”
Lucas skimmed the writing before him, eyes darting left and right as he tracked the letters that meant so little to me or Vance. As he read, Shane and their father entered the room. Shane’s eyes were red as if from exhaustion. I doubted he had slept at all since we had last seen him, and though he shook my hand in greeting, he kept a wary distance from Vance.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed. Had he come to the part about Jeshickah wanting a trained witch in addition to Shane?
“You must have expected something like this,” Vance said.
“As a possibility, yes,” Lucas answered, “but not a certainty.” He gave the papers to his father, then reached out a hand to his brother’s and squeezed it tightly.
Perhaps that was all the explanation Shane needed. He sat at the opposite end of the table without asking anything.
Lucas looked to his father as he said, “They aren’t happy just pulling our family apart, or demanding that we sacrifice someone else. Half of this is dedicated to taxes and fees and trade requirements. Little humiliations, just in case forcing us to give them the flesh of our people isn’t sufficient.”
“That is what has you most upset?” I asked. I tried to remember the little details Jeshickah had mentioned. Something about coming to the market to balance accounts, instead of making the vampires come to them … the little privileges that had kept the Shantel better off than the serpiente or avians. “You’re preparing to send them your brother, but you’re upset that they’ve insulted your pride?”
“You don’t understand,” Lucas said. “You’ve never needed to rule a people. What you call pride is the independence that gives us the power to protect those we serve.”
There was no point in arguing. I wasn’t one of his people, and I never would be.
“What kind of power does Midnight have on its side?” Lucas asked. “Can they do what they threaten?”
I pulled out the flint Stefan had given me and set it on the table. Just touching it made me feel grimy, and by the way the three Shantel men stared at it, I suspected whatever they felt was worse. Could they sense the magic in it?
“This was made by one of their witches. He claims it can burn just about anything. He encouraged us to have you test it.”
None of them reached for the flint.
King Laurence swallowed audibly. “I will speak to the sakkri about choosing a second—”
“No!” both Shane and Vance insisted.
Laurence looked to Vance first, but spoke to his son. “How would you suggest we make this decision?”
“Ask for volunteers,” Shane said. “Do not put this decision on the sakkri.”
I suspected that Shane did not want them consulting with the sakkri for his own reasons, but I supported the notion. “If anyone goes to that place as a slave, it should be by their own decision, not at the will of their king or witch.”
“Unless it was addressed in our absence,” Vance added, “we still have a different problem. Kadee and I made it to Midnight, negotiated, and came to an agreement, but the deal is off if you cannot deliver on your side of the bargain.”
“We have less than a week,” Lucas informed Laurence and Shane, “to decide what we want to do, and send a reply—with payment—to Midnight.”
“What I want,” Laurence said, “is not to sacrifice anyone. I want to stand proudly, and tell Midnight that no, I will never give them one of my people. To tell them that we will not pay their taxes, or allow their mercenaries in our land. But the end result would be the slow death of all my people by starvation, or the kidnapping and enslavement of anyone Midnight can get its hands on … or the swift finality of fire.”
His gaze fell to the flint in front of Lucas.
“So we compromise,” Lucas said softly. “But I do not want the guards to feel obligated to volunteer themselves. They signed up to protect us, and to give their lives if the situation called for it, but none of them promised their souls.”
“Agreed,” Laurence said.
“You speak to the people and try to find a volunteer, then,” Shane said. “I will tell the sakkri our decision, to make sure we can get out of this forest once an appropriate white lamb is found.”
“Good idea,” Laurence said. “I will speak to the head of the guard, and make it clear that I will not tolerate her pressuring any of her soldiers. We will all meet back here at dawn.”
Are they all completely blind? I wondered, looking at Vance, who quirked a brow as if he knew exactly what was on my mind.
Shane knew why they couldn’t get out of the forest. Were Laurence and Lucas still so utterly in the dark? How did they explain their inability to control their own forest—reluctance on the part of the royal family? If so, it was pure idealism that blinded them. They knew the rules about the sakkri that held her separated from them all and maintained her holiness. They obviously could not imagine that Shane could have committed such a powerful taboo.
After his brother and father left, Vance said to Shane, “I assume you have not told them about your affair with the sakkri.”
“Let me speak to her alone,” Shane pleaded. “I can make her understand what needs to be done. Please … you do not know what my family would say, if they knew I had—” He took a deep breath, and concluded simply. “I want them to remember me well. Please, leave me that.”
“Convince the sakkri that Midnight is a threat. Show her this.” I picked up the flint and pressed it into his hand. Shane tried to pull back, and I could see the hair on his arm raise as I closed his fingers around the flint. “I believe Midnight when they say they can burn your forest. You say you want your family to remember you well, but I am sure you do not want them all to die for you.”
AS EACH MEMBER of the royal family disappeared, Vance and I found ourselves strangely unchaperoned, an odd occurrence on Shantel land, and a somewhat disquieting one.
Leaving the Family home alone was perhaps unwise, but that only occurred to us after we had do
ne so. Whereas the forest had seemed malevolent, the ground here felt expectant. It might have been waiting for us to do something, or waiting to pounce if we did something.
Either way, it was disorienting. It was hard to judge the distance between buildings, and I found myself staying near to Vance out of fear that we would be separated.
We briefly glimpsed the deathwitch, but this time she wasn’t alone. The looks we received from those gathered around her fire, probably to mourn the young prince they were preparing to lose, sent Vance and me away quickly.
At last, we found Marcel at one of the common hearths. I considered asking about her offer to take me to human lands, and when she might be willing to make that trip, but she spoke first.
“I’ve volunteered to go with Shane,” she said.
“You— He— How did you even know?” I stammered. Laurence had said he would ask for volunteers, but that had been just minutes ago. When he said it, I hadn’t really believed anyone would offer without coercion. How could she have come to such a decision so quickly?
“I’ve gone many places, seen many things,” Marcel said. “The way I see it, this is just one more journey for me to take. My magic will not harm anyone, even if the vampires get control of it. I am young and healthy enough to meet Jeshickah’s requirements, but Andrew and I have been trying unsuccessfully for over a decade to have a child, so I have reason to hope I cannot give Midnight that satisfaction.” Her voice sounded calm, but I didn’t believe her. Couldn’t believe her. “I am not the only one who has offered, and I do not know who the king will choose, but I wanted to let you know … if I go, Andrew will help you search for your parents. He will want to leave here, anyway. If King Laurence does not choose me, then we will both travel with you, if you want us.”
“I … thank you,” I whispered. I could hardly understand the words I was hearing. “You … you’re talking about selling yourself to Midnight. How can you possibly think of me at this time?”
Marcel smiled briefly. “My magic brought me to you years ago, Kadee. I do believe I saved your life, and I will never apologize for that, but you are a woman now, not a child. You have your own soul to guide you. If your path takes you back to the beginning, I would be honored to walk beside you, in spirit if not in flesh. For now, please excuse me, but I have affairs I must see to.”
Once she was gone, Vance wrapped his arms around me, and I turned my face to bury it in his shoulder. How I wanted to tell the Shantel, Don’t do it, don’t make a deal! Stand up and fight! But I couldn’t tell them to sacrifice everything for principles and hope.
Another sleepless night, and then we were back in the royal receiving room. King Laurence and Prince Lucas were inside, but Shane was not. The older sakkri was there with them, shaking her head.
“He came to speak to us last night,” the sakkri explained, “and my sister left with him. I do not believe he has run from us, but I do know she is hiding him from us. My sister … she does not approve of this decision.”
“How do you feel?” I asked.
The sakkri drew a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “My time here is nearly over. My power has lessened, and the land does not speak to me as clearly as it once did. I have had no vision about these days. I think perhaps my sister has.”
“Then you think she is right?” Laurence asked.
“No.” The answer was swift and unequivocal, and obviously took Laurence aback. “I think my sister has corrupted her power, and is listening to her own heart, instead of listening to the heart of the forest.”
“How do we find her?” I asked.
“I had hoped she would come to us,” the older sakkri said, sighing. “I do not like the notion of tracking her down like a beast in the woods.”
“She seems to leave us no choice,” Lucas said, falling into his throne with a frustrated cry. When he looked up at the sakkri again, his gaze was like that of a small child begging for comfort. “Are you sure we are doing the right thing?” he asked her.
“Chaos before the fall,” she whispered. The air around her had gone still, and silent. My tongue seemed to lock in my mouth as I listened. “Each great nation will give its flesh and blood to the beast. Every land will know betrayal and bereavement. A white queen will rise in desperation and brutality. The line is drawn. Players take their places. The battle cannot be won, but it will not be lost.”
Both of the Shantel men leapt forward to catch the sakkri as she collapsed, her prophecy complete.
I remembered what Marcel had told me—that a sakkri’s prophecy always came true. Now, having heard what the Shantel considered a true prophecy, I felt I knew even less than before.
What did any of that mean?
I wanted to ask a thousand questions, most notably about the “white queen” that the sakkri had referenced in a less than positive manner. Before I could, though, the receiving room doors burst open, and the younger sakkri leapt in, running like a gazelle to her sister’s side.
“Are you all right?” she asked, as if she had not been hiding in the woods with the prince who now hung in the doorway behind her, looking guilty and resigned. Without speaking, Laurence nodded to one of the guards, who ushered Shane inside and moved to stand behind him so he could not slip away again. Then we all turned our eyes back to the two sakkri.
“I am sorry,” the older sakkri said to her sister, the whisper choked by tears. “I see now what you saw, but you do not understand. You cannot—”
“We cannot save ourselves by selling our own,” the younger sakkri insisted, looking back at Shane with tear-filled eyes.
“Your affection for the prince is clouding your judgment,” the other sakkri replied. “Your affair with him … it should never have happened, sister, and this is why.”
“Shane?” Lucas hissed, staring at his brother in shock.
Shane looked away, and took a step back … then defiantly moved forward again and knelt by the sakkri’s side. He touched her arm, to many protests from his brother and father, and implored her, “You need to let me go.”
“I cannot,” the younger sakkri spat, rising to her feet and pushing them all away. “Do you not understand me? We cannot save ourselves if we pollute our own royal blood with slave-trading. I cannot change my belief on this, and the forest knows what I believe. I will not bend and neither will it.”
I felt my breath leave me in a rush, as the sakkri spoke words that had bubbled inside me for days now. Each time, I had forced them back down because I felt we had no other choice, but now the most powerful woman in this land was stating as fact what I had wanted to cry in hopeless frustration.
“Shane—” She took a deep breath. “I love you. You know this. I have loved you for years, since we were both children and you came to the temple to study, and I will love you always, but it is not for you that I protest what we are doing here.”
“If I do not go to Midnight,” Shane said, slowly and deliberately, “then we will all die in this forest. You saw what their magic can do. You—”
“I will not allow it,” the sakkri said simply in reply.
“But can you stop it?” Lucas demanded.
We all looked up as, outside, the wind began to howl, ripping through the trees around us and making them raise a mournful sound. I shuddered. I trusted the sakkri not to hurt her own people, but I was glad not to be out in the woods at that moment.
“Sister, please, see reason,” the older sakkri begged.
“As you did, when you brought the Obsidian children here despite my pleas?” the younger sakkri said.
“I saw the fire that would engulf this land if we did not satisfy the blood-drinkers demands,” the older one replied. “So did you! We have no way to stop it unless—”
Her sister interrupted her with five flat words: “I will go to Midnight.”
“Absolutely not!” Laurence protested at the same moment that Shane said, “That I will not allow.”
“Sister,” the older sakkri said, grasping the other woma
n’s hand. “My time here is nearly done. I will take my last breath before autumn ends. If you leave us, there will be no one to guide the next sakkri … if she will even be born, with your essence taken to foreign soil.”
“Would you rather we all die here?” the younger sakkri asked.
“The land itself will not allow us to lose you!” the older sakkri cried. “The royal family is like the leaves of this forest. They come, and they fall in winter, and the land mourns them for a season until they are reborn. But we are the roots of this land. We cannot simply leave it. The land itself would hold you, even if we were all mad enough to give permission.”
“We are not gods,” the younger retorted, “and the roots of a tree are no more immortal than its leaves. Entire trees may split and become rotten and hollow, a place for new life to begin in the place left behind.”
I looked to Vance, wondering if he was as lost within all the nature analogies as I was.
“Is this argument getting us anywhere?” I interrupted. “Trees and roots and leaves are fine, and I know someone is going to tell me that occasionally an entire forest burns to the ground and the ash nurtures the soil, but I do not think any of us want to go that far.”
Vance said, “Whether it is Shane or the sakkri, we need to—”
He broke off as the younger sakkri spun to stare at him, her eyes widening. “You’re right,” she said—but it did not sound like she was agreeing with his words. “There is only one way to end this.”
Vance stepped back warily and said, “I am not sure I want to be—”
Graceful as a willow, or wind in the trees, the sakkri turned around. Her hand found the sword sheathed in the nearest guard’s belt, and as she continued to turn, she raised that sword and turned it on Prince Lucas.
“What are you doing?” Shane yelped, jumping in the way as his brother narrowly dodged the blade. If he thought his lover would hesitate to hurt him, however, he was wrong. A red slash appeared across his chest.
Bloodkin Page 17
