Snakeroot

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Snakeroot Page 17

by Andrea Cremer


  “‘I had to try’?” Sabine murmured, mostly to herself, but Tristan sighed.

  “I have a few guesses,” Tristan said. “None of them are comforting.”

  Sabine nodded. She could guess too. Sarah Doran hadn’t been reluctant to broadcast her hopes for bringing Shay back from his life as a wolf. But how she thought she might accomplish such a thing was difficult to say.

  “You don’t think she’d go up onto the mountain and try to snare him?” Sabine asked.

  “I think that might be a best-case scenario,” Anika replied. “I sent a team up to Haldis to see if that’s what happened, but Sarah isn’t ignorant—she knows how Shay’s transformation occurred. If she wanted to undo what’s been done, she’ll pursue specific channels.”

  “Magic,” Sabine said quietly.

  Anika nodded and Tristan’s jaw clenched.

  “But it’s not possible,” Sabine continued. “Right? Bringing Shay back is not something Sarah could actually do.”

  “No,” Tristan said. “She can’t. But she won’t accept it. I’ve tried to convince her so many times to let it go. I tried.”

  Anika put her hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “We both tried.”

  “Sorry for being behind the curve,” Sabine said. “But if there’s no way for Sarah to bring Shay back, then what are you worried she’s doing?”

  “It’s the ‘trying’ that presents a danger,” Anika told Sabine. “Sarah has been spending a lot of time at Rowan Estate.”

  “I know.” Sabine nodded. “I’ve seen her there.”

  “We’re worried she may have taken some books from the library,” Anika said. “The collections at Rowan Estate skewed heavily toward the occult.”

  “Sarah can’t bring our son back,” Tristan said quietly. “But if she uses certain spells to try, even in vain, there could be terrible ramifications.”

  “But the Rift is closed,” Sabine said, more to comfort herself than to argue with Tristan. “Doesn’t that kind of mitigate the damage any Keeper spells can do?”

  “To the world, yes,” Anika answered. “In cases like this, harm doesn’t usually extend beyond the caster.”

  “Oh,” Sabine said, feeling foolish. Of course they were trying to protect Sarah from herself. “But maybe that’s the connection between Adne and Sarah. What if Adne went along to try to keep Sarah safe?”

  “And how would a young Weaver manage that?” There was more spite in Tristan’s question than Sabine liked, but she let it go.

  “You don’t know Adne,” Sabine told him. “She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Sabine’s telling the truth,” Anika agreed. “Adne’s an exceptional young woman. But as much as it’s comforting to imagine that Sarah’s not alone, I’m not certain they’re together. Are you aware of any relationship having developed between them?”

  “No,” Sabine admitted. Adne hadn’t talked about Sarah Doran, but then Adne hadn’t been inclined to talk much about anything lately.

  “For now I think we have to treat the two cases as distinct,” Anika told her. “Thank you for bringing Adne’s absence to my attention. I’ll assign a team to pursue the matter.”

  Realizing she’d just been dismissed, Sabine nodded and showed herself out of the room. No sooner had she opened the door than Sabine ducked to avoid being struck in the face by a red-faced Striker, who’d been about to knock on the door.

  “Watch where you’re throwing those fists, friend,” Sabine grumbled, pushing past him into the hall.

  The Striker ignored her. “I need the Arrow. The Arrow! Is she here?”

  Anika was already at the door. “What is it, Mackie?”

  “It’s Holt, ma’am,” Mackie blurted. “He’s called an assembly.”

  “What?” Anika frowned at him. “When?”

  “Now!” Mackie told her. “Right now. In the dining hall.”

  “Damn that man.” Anika called over her shoulder, “Tristan! You’d better come with me.”

  The halls of the Roving Academy were filled with Searchers, flowing as if they were being carried by a current: Strikers, Weavers, Scribes, Elixirs, all streaming toward the dining hall. When Anika, Tristan, Mackie, and Sabine reached the crowded room, they had to push their way through the mass of bodies.

  Above the gathered Searchers stood Holt, who had climbed atop a table and was exhorting the crowd.

  “See for yourself what they’ve done,” Holt shouted. “The Arrow claims their crimes are all in the past, but I tell you the Keepers have always been and will always be murderers.”

  A buzz of voices, some agreeing and others disapproving, filled the air.

  “They are twisted and evil,” Holt continued. “They must be purged from this world. I will not tolerate these horrors, my brothers and sisters.” Holt crouched down and gathered something that had been lying at his feet into his arms. He stood again. “Will you?”

  “What the—” Sabine stared at Holt in disbelief. He was holding the body of a young woman. That she was dead was obvious. But it was worse than that. Her throat had been cut, sliced so deeply that her neck tipped back, opening like a lid to reveal her spine.

  “Who is that?” Sabine whispered to Anika. The Arrow stood beside her, grim faced.

  “A Keeper,” Anika replied. “We found her at the house where Logan Bane had taken refuge.”

  “And Holt brought her body back.” Sabine shuddered. “But why?”

  “For this,” Tristan muttered.

  Holt scanned the crowd. When his gaze fell on Anika, a smile flitted ever so briefly across his mouth. He turned the corpse toward the Arrow. The girl’s lifeless eyes stared out over the amassed Searchers.

  “Can you answer for this injustice, Anika?” Holt called to her. “Or will you continue to make apologies for those we’ve sworn to fight?”

  “I don’t answer to you, Holt,” Anika shouted over the murmurs of uncertainty that swept through the room.

  Holt bowed his head and made a show of gently laying the dead girl on the table in a solemn repose. When he rose again, he swept his hand in a broad arc.

  “Who do you answer to, Anika?”

  Anika remained silent and Holt turned his question to the crowd.

  “Who does the Arrow answer to?”

  Tristan took Anika by the arm, pulling her closer to him as though he thought he might have to shield her with his body. “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. I don’t know what Holt’s after, but I wouldn’t put it past him to send someone after you.”

  Stricken by Tristan’s words, Anika didn’t resist as he pushed his way back out of the increasingly riled crowd, taking her with him. Sabine tried to follow, but the mass of Searchers suddenly surged forward. Holt was shouting, but Sabine couldn’t make out his words beyond the roar of so many voices. She stumbled and fell to the floor.

  A booted foot connected with Sabine’s stomach, knocking her breath away.

  Someone’s knee slammed into the side of her head and dark spots appeared in Sabine’s vision. She grabbed at a Searcher’s hand, trying to pull herself up, but a sudden kick sent a spear of pain through Sabine’s back. Sabine hit the floor and rolled over, curling into a ball as the sea of bodies swallowed her whole.

  REN WASN’T CERTAIN how or when it would be possible, but he knew that he would kill Logan. Someday, he would break the arrogant Keeper’s neck and the world would be better for it.

  “You aren’t happy.” Logan offered Ren a placid smile.

  “Should I be?” Ren snarled.

  “It may not be the most ideal situation,” Logan replied. “But think of it this way. You could be a restless spirit wandering the earth aimlessly. I’m giving you purpose. You should be grateful.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ren said. “And think of a way to repay you.”

  Chase, who was sitting beside Logan on the Rococo settee, flinched at Ren’s tone, but Logan laughed.

  “I know this collar is chafing you, Renier,” Logan told him.
“But given time, I think you’ll find obedience has greater rewards than rebellion. That’s a lesson I’ve had to learn myself. And given the circumstances of your own untimely death, I’d think you’d be inclined to accept the truth of it as well.”

  Slightly chastened by the sting of Logan’s words, Ren fell silent.

  “They’re late,” Chase said, looking at his Rolex for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

  “They aren’t late,” Logan said. “They can’t be late when we appointed a day for this meeting and not a specific time.”

  “I hate waiting,” Chase complained. “It makes me anxious.”

  “That’s obvious.” Logan glanced irritably at the other Keeper. “If you can’t stop fidgeting, then pour yourself a drink. And get me one while you’re at it.”

  Chase jumped up and went to the bar.

  When Ren heard the clink of ice cubes, he asked Logan, “Since you have someone to fetch you cocktails and I can’t lift a glass or anything else, why the hell am I here?”

  “For effect,” Logan answered. “The presence of a ghost adds atmosphere. And Sarah knows you. You remind her of Shay. Of why she wants to help us.”

  “You,” Ren said sharply. “Help you. There is no us.”

  Logan shrugged.

  The doorbell rang and Chase dashed from the room. “I’ll get it.”

  Throwing a longing glance at the abandoned glasses on the bar, Logan sighed. “It really would be a plus if you could fix cocktails, wouldn’t it?”

  Ren ignored him.

  Chase came hurtling back into the sitting room. “She’s not alone.”

  Logan was on his feet, and the alarmed expression on the Keeper’s face gave Ren a twinge of satisfaction. “What do you mean she’s not alone?”

  As if in answer to Logan’s question, two women appeared at the room’s entrance.

  “Sorry to crash the party.” Adne stood beside Sarah Doran. “But I think you have room for one more.”

  Logan’s eyes widened briefly, but he quickly recovered and relaxed back onto the settee. “Ariadne. What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Really?” Adne lifted her eyebrows. “I didn’t think we were on the best of terms, Logan.”

  “Bygones.” Logan waved his hand, then gestured to Chase. “My associate, Chase Roth. And of course, this one needs no introduction, does he?” Logan nodded to Ren.

  Adne’s attention had been focused solely on Logan, but now she was staring at Ren. Her hands became fists.

  Ren couldn’t speak or move. Though he knew his body had no substance, he felt as if he were made of stone.

  “This is a trick.” Adne’s voice was brittle.

  “Strange as it may seem, Ariadne,” Logan said, “I’d like to be in your good graces. So no tricks.” Logan glanced at Ren. “Aren’t you going to greet your sister?”

  “Hey, Adne,” Ren said, at last finding his voice.

  Giving a little cry, Adne rushed forward and flung her arms around her brother, only she grasped nothing.

  “Sorry.” Ren smiled sadly.

  Adne took a step back, staring at him. “Are you a ghost?”

  “Spirit,” Logan interjected. “But let’s not bother with all those details now. You’re happy to see your brother, aren’t you, Ariadne?”

  “Go to hell.” Adne glared at Logan.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Logan replied smoothly. “His death was such a tragedy, wasn’t it? It’s a shame the way things turned out. Brother and sister reunited for so brief a time. Wouldn’t you like a second chance to know Renier?”

  Adne stiffened. Her gaze moved to Sarah Doran, who was still hovering quietly at the edge of the room.

  “You’re making a lot of promises, Logan,” Adne said. “First you say you’ll give a mother her son back, and now you’re offering me my brother?”

  “These aren’t my offers,” Logan replied with a smile. “You know very well I don’t have that kind of power. I didn’t even have that kind of power before the Rift was closed.”

  Sarah drew a hissing breath. “You said you could bring him back.”

  Logan shook his head. “Don’t fret, dear Searcher. I didn’t say anything of the sort. I sent Renier to ask if you wanted to have your son back. That is all.”

  Suddenly there was a dagger in Sarah’s hand. “I will cut your heart out, Keeper.”

  “Such hysterics!” Logan stood up and went to collect his drink. “Put that blade away. There’s no need to jump to conclusions. I’m simply attempting to clarify this situation. Will you do me the kindness of listening? You’ve come all this way.”

  Sarah didn’t sheath her dagger, but she lowered it.

  Logan pursed his lips, but nodded. “I guess that will suffice.” Returning to his seat, Logan gestured to the other chairs in the room. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

  When neither Sarah nor Adne moved, Logan sighed. “You’re making this much more unpleasant than it need be.”

  “Just talk, Logan,” Ren growled at the Keeper. Adne gave her brother a little smile.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Logan said. “Chase, will you get our guests whatever refreshments they’d like?”

  “This isn’t a social call.” Adne’s irritation was beginning to show. “Stop grandstanding and tell us what you want.”

  Ren regarded Adne with admiration. His sister’s mettle remained impressive as ever. It was nice to see Logan taken down a peg.

  “If you insist.” Logan shrugged. “Sarah has something for me, I believe.”

  Sarah and Adne exchanged a glance, and Adne gave a brief nod. Sarah crossed the room and deposited a satchel on the settee next to Logan.

  “Thank you.” Logan swirled his drink and took a sip. “That’s one thing. And much to my delight, the second thing I wanted arrived today as well. Rather unexpectedly.”

  “And what’s that?” Adne asked.

  “Why, Ariadne, I’m surprised at your lack of comprehension.” Logan smiled at her. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Adne replied blandly. “What’s the second thing you wanted?”

  Logan set his glass down and folded his arms behind his head, lounging against the back of the settee. “You.”

  Ren shifted into wolf form, snarling at Logan.

  “Ferocious,” Logan remarked.

  Adne’s steely confidence wavered slightly. “What do you mean, me?”

  “Someone wants to see you and it was left to me to make the arrangements,” Logan said. “You’ve just made my task that much easier.”

  “I only came here to find out what you’re up to.” Adne shook her head. “And to put a stop to it. I’m not a fan of nightmares and I’m pretty sure you’re the reason I can’t sleep at night.”

  Logan tilted his head, eyeing her. “What is it that you’ve been dreaming about? Or should I be asking, who are you dreaming about?”

  “As if I would tell you,” Adne said, but she blanched.

  Ren growled again; he hated where this conversation was headed. He hated even more that he could do nothing to stop it.

  “If you don’t want to name names, far be it from me to force the issues. But we will need to take a little trip,” Logan told her. “Well, little perhaps isn’t the most precise term.”

  “Wait,” Sarah interjected. Ren saw that she had put her dagger away now, but her expression was a mixture of grief and confusion. “What about Shay?”

  Logan nodded. “I haven’t forgotten, Sarah. I know that I owe you for recovering these items.” He patted the satchel. “But what I said to Ariadne is true. I don’t have the kind of power it takes to bring Shay back. No one on this earth does.”

  “But—”

  “I said no one on this earth does,” Logan cut her off. “But there is one not of this earth who can give you what you want.”

  Ren gave up trying to menace Logan and went to Adne’s side when he saw that her skin had gone ashen.

&n
bsp; Her eyes were closed tight, but Adne said, “He’s gone. He’s gone and he cannot return.”

  Logan frowned at Adne. “Are you afraid, Ariadne? You shouldn’t be. He needs you.”

  “Stop,” Adne whispered.

  Ren shifted forms and glared at Logan. “Leave her alone.”

  “Don’t interfere,” Logan said. “In this matter I’m like you, Renier, the intercessor. Your sister has an important role to play. She just has to accept the part.”

  Adne was shaking her head. A tear slipped from beneath her eyelid.

  A subtle change suffused the room. Though it had been a bright day in Boston, the lingering light of the sunset was abruptly snuffed out.

  Logan stood up. “He needs to see you, Ariadne.”

  A column of shadow formed alongside Logan. At first Ren thought it was a wraith, but its shape became more distinct. The silhouette of a tall man stood facing Adne. His features were indistinct, but when he spoke, the voice was unmistakable.

  “Ariadne.”

  The sound of Bosque Mar speaking his sister’s name made Ren growl, but no one paid him any attention.

  “You don’t have to fail,” Bosque whispered to Adne.

  “Fail?” Adne repeated. She kept her eyes closed, and Ren sensed that she didn’t trust herself to stay in control of her mind and body if she looked at Bosque—even in this shadow form.

  “What your father asked you to do,” Bosque continued. He ignored everyone in the room but Adne.

  “No,” Adne’s voice rasped with uncertainty.

  “Yes,” Bosque replied. “Tell me. What did your father want? What was the only task he bid you complete so his sacrifice was not an empty gesture?”

  Ren flinched. Bosque was talking about Monroe, who wasn’t just Adne’s father. He was Ren’s as well.

  “His sacrifice.” Adne’s hands had begun to shake.

  Tendrils of smoke in the shape of large hands stretched toward Adne, enveloping her wrists.

  “Tell me, Ariadne.”

  “I was supposed to save him,” Adne whispered. “I was supposed to save Ren. But I didn’t.”

  It’s not your fault, Adne. None of this was your fault. Ren was desperate to stop this, to break through Bosque’s manipulation, but whatever hold the Harbinger had over Ren prevented him from speaking.

 

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