Sachiel didn’t respond.
“I’ve never heard of a jakla that ripped power from three different Paladin.” Sharmaine almost seemed to be talking to herself, her face as white as the blouse she wore.
Raidyn put his hand over hers; she turned to look up at him, stricken. Zuhra stiffened beside me but remained silent.
“This is all my fault,” Halvor whispered. “If only I’d refused to bring him here.”
Even though I was struggling myself—the black hole within pulsing, painful, and bottomless—his acute guilt and misery skimmed the edges of my own suffering. Imitating Raidyn, I reached out to squeeze Halvor’s closest hand, resting on his leg. He immediately grasped my fingers, clutching them tightly.
“What’s done is done, and there’s no use trying to assign blame.” Father was the only one who responded, though his attempt at reassurance felt hollow. “You didn’t know what he was planning.”
I didn’t even know what to say to Halvor. If they’d never come, no one would have died. Barloc would never have been given the chance to rip the power from me, leaving me empty and broken.
But … if they’d never come, I would have still been lost in the roar, the four of us still trapped behind the hedge we’d believed to be immovable. I wouldn’t have met Halvor, wouldn’t have known what it was to care about a boy the way I did for him, wouldn’t have known how powerful a kiss could be. My father wouldn’t have returned to us, Zuhra wouldn’t have met our grandparents and Raidyn and all the other Paladin, and discovered that she, too, had Paladin power. Was all the suffering worth the good that had also come?
“If he somehow has absorbed the power from three Paladin … how will we ever stop him now?” Lorina asked.
The room fell completely silent, except for the ping ping ping of the rain lashing the windows.
Sachiel pushed away her untouched bowl. “I hate to agree with Adelric, but if we do this, then we need to split up like I suggested earlier. Half of us need to go after him, and the other half stay here in case he somehow makes it back before the other group catches him.”
“What possible chance would only half of us have against a jakla wielding the power of three Paladin?” Sharmaine choked out.
“And how would they find him?” Ivan added.
There was a heavy pause before Sachiel announced, “We set a trap.”
“A trap?” My father’s eyebrows lifted, but the corners of his lips turned down.
Panic, part ice, part acidic fire, flashed through my body. I hadn’t told her yet—how did she know? I didn’t even know if I could find Barloc through the connection we had.
“Yes. A trap. We bait him with something he would be unable to resist. And when he shows up, we kill him the old-fashioned way—with cold, hard steel.”
“Bait,” Father repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing. “What kind of bait?”
Sachiel’s gaze moved past him to where Zuhra and I sat. “Your other daughter’s power.”
“No!” Mother gasped.
Zuhra sucked in a breath beside me. Raidyn’s gaze snapped to her, the whites of his eyes visible all around his blue-flame irises.
No. Not Zuhra. I stared at Sachiel in horror. She didn’t know then—she hadn’t figured it out.
“If he learns she’s an enhancer, he won’t be able to resist trying to steal her power, as well. If we use Loukas to—”
Before she could finish, my father roared, “Absolutely not! How dare you even suggest such a thing!”
“Do you have a better suggestion? He must be stopped, Adelric!”
“You think I don’t know that?” He shoved back his seat, jumping to his feet. “He killed my father and very nearly Inara. How dare you—”
“It would work!” she cut him off, just as furious. “And we can only pray to the Great God that he doesn’t start attacking humans before we get to him!”
“Why would he attack humans?” Melia finally looked up.
Suddenly everyone was talking, yelling, gesturing, a cacophony of angry chaos that drowned out even the storm raging outside. As the voices rose louder and louder, I lost track of what anyone was saying. A strange buzzing started to accompany the painful beat of my heart and the tightness in my lungs that was making me completely breathless.
Before I could think better of it, I shoved my chair back and stood. Without a word of explanation, I rushed from the room. The empty hallway pulsed with shadows that undulated in the heavy humidity from the storm, as though the citadel were so nervous about the fury of the wind and rain lashing at its windows and walls that it was sweating.
I leaned against the wall, clutching at my blouse, struggling to breathe. I vaguely heard the door open and shut nearby, but I didn’t even turn toward whoever it was. It took every ounce of my concentration just to stay on my feet.
“Nara.” Zuhra’s familiar voice was a soothing respite from the buzzing in my head. It was nothing like the roar; this noise was made of dizziness and not enough air, and blood pounding too hard, and emptiness where there should have been power. “Do you want to go lie down? I can ask Sami to make you some more tea, if you think that will help.”
Her life had just been offered up on an altar by Sachiel, and yet here she was, coming after me, trying to comfort me. Though I should have found the strength to ask if she was all right, or what had been decided, or tell her what was happening to me, I couldn’t resist her offer. I nodded. Zuhra gently took my arm and guided me through the dark hallways that felt as if they were closing in on us. Occasional bursts of lightning momentarily blinded me, making me stumble, but Zuhra was always there, holding me up, guiding me forward.
Until, after far longer than it normally took, we reached my room. Zuhra opened the door and ushered me in.
“Do you want help changing? Or do you want to lie down now?”
I stood in the middle of my room, trembling and still struggling to breathe. “I—I don’t know,” I barely managed to force out through my strangled throat.
“I think you should lie down,” Zuhra decided. “Here, climb in, and then I’ll hurry and go get you some more tea to help you rest.”
She helped me crawl into bed and, just like when I was little—on rare nights when I was lucid and could remember her doing it—she tucked my sheets around me, cocooning me tightly in the safety of my bed.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, softly sweeping a few stray hairs off my forehead. Her hand was warm and soft, and I didn’t want her to go, but I couldn’t speak, and with one last long look at me, her eyebrows knitted together, she hurried out the door.
I stared up at the ceiling, at the skeletal shadows of the trees outside when lightning sent their corpses skulking across my room, and the swelling darkness when the flashes of light receded. Thunder roared through the stone walls, and rain lashed at the windows; the storm seemed determined to tear the citadel apart, but though it shuddered beneath the onslaught, it held tight.
I’d always been afraid of the dark, but now it terrified me. Darkness brought him—it gave me glimpses into the mind of my would-be murderer.
I’d seen the moment before he’d slaughtered four gryphons and two more Paladin. I’d seen him in the river where they’d tracked him, moments before they died. And no one else knew that I had.
Just breathe, I told myself, with as much force as I could muster. But it wasn’t long before I started to gasp again. Control was nearly impossible—especially because the pain in my chest kept creeping further and further out into my body, making it harder than ever to get enough air. Though Zuhra had promised to hurry, it still felt like an eternity before she finally came back, a teacup clinking against the plate she balanced.
“Oh, Nara!” She rushed to sit beside my bed when she came in and saw me struggling. “Here you go,” she said, helping me lean up enough to be able to drink the slightly bitter concoction. Now that I knew it had sleeping herbs in it, they were all I could taste. “I’m sorry it took a little bit—I had
to go get Sami from the dining hall.”
I took another big sip, praying it would work again. “What did they decide?” I managed to ask.
Zuhra shrugged. “Don’t worry about that right now.” I could sense her fear, but my own was so much stronger, I could barely focus on her answer, let alone press her for more.
You have to tell her.
You can’t ever tell anyone.
“Zuhra … I … I need…” I tried to force the words out, but my entire body began to shake, my stomach cramped so hard, I could barely keep down the little tea I’d swallowed.
Zuhra stroked a hair back from my clammy cheek. “Shhh,” she whispered. “You don’t need to talk right now. Just breathe. Do you want me to stay with you for a little bit? Until the tea takes effect? I can read you a story, just like I used to. It might help you calm down.” She tucked the sheets in tighter around my torso, her hands firm, and warm, and sure, her presence a balm.
Despite myself, despite knowing I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer, I nodded. First thing in the morning, when the sun was up, when the light of day chased back the shadows of the night, when I could breathe again … I would tell her. Nothing would happen tonight—not even Barloc could do anything in this storm. She was safe until then.
The same few books we’d read over and over as children were stacked on a shelf of my dresser from years gone by. Zuhra took one out and settled back into the chair beside my bed.
“There was once a young girl who dreamed such beautiful dreams they seemed real to her,” she began, the words comforting in their familiarity, her voice soft, as the rain continued to pound against my window.
I closed my eyes and let the words flow over and through me, carrying me away from the storm, the pain inside, the tightness in my lungs, and the horror of the memories that still assailed me.
THIRTEEN
ZUHRA
Only once I was certain Inara was completely out did I shut the book and gently set it down on the nightstand beside her. With her face relaxed in the release of sleep, she looked so much younger than when she was awake. She had an old soul; her eyes filled with far too much pain and suffering, aging her beyond her years.
I bent over and kissed her brow softly. Her eyelids fluttered, but she stayed asleep. I tiptoed from the room, shutting the door carefully. When I turned, someone was sitting in the shadows, leaning against the wall across from her room, his blue-fire eyes glittering in the darkness. I swallowed a gasp as Raidyn quickly scrambled to his feet.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he said. “But I wanted to make sure I got to talk to you before we go.”
My already-racing heart stumbled in my chest, sputtering at those two words: we go.
“Did they decide to do it, then?” Though my parents were both furious, I’d tried to force them to accept Sachiel’s plan—telling them I would leave with Sachiel if they refused—when Inara ran out of the room. I hadn’t heard their final decision because I’d gone after my sister. I knew it could quite possibly end with my death. But it was the only hope we had of trapping Barloc and stopping him. No one had any idea what he was capable of with the power of three Paladin. And I couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting anyone else because my parents were too afraid of losing me.
I couldn’t read Raidyn’s expression in the darkness, but it looked like he grimaced. “Yes, they finally agreed.”
I exhaled, long and low, equal parts resignation, relief, and terror.
“Loukas offered to use his power as the bait instead of yours, but Sachiel’s plan hinges on his power being a surprise. If Barloc doesn’t know he’s a mentirum, Loukas can use it to force him to freeze, unable to draw on his power—even for just a few seconds—which will hopefully be enough time to cut his head from his body.”
My lip curled at the gruesome image. “So, who is going? How will we make sure he finds out what I am? And when do we leave?” I asked faintly.
“Adelric refuses to let Sachiel be the one to lead the trap, not with your life on the line.” The words seemed to strangle him. “She’s staying here with her battalion members. It’ll be both of your parents—because your mother refuses to stay behind, me, Shar, Louk, and you.”
I nodded, hoping I looked braver than I felt. A flash of heat raced over my arms, immediately followed by a frigid shudder scuttling down my spine, my body rebelling against what my mind knew needed to be done. I’d just helped my sister through a panic attack, but now I was the one who needed help. My throat tightened.
“You don’t have to do this, Zuhra. We can figure out another way to stop him.”
Even though his words echoed my deepest wish, I knew it was a false hope. “There is no other way. Not one fast enough to keep him from killing others.”
Raidyn winced. “We could try to lure him back here—then no one has to split up.”
“And bring him back to the gateway? He might have enough power to open it on his own now.” Caustic desperation burned in my belly. “Sachiel was right; we have to try to trap him before he comes back here.” I shivered, a cold sweat breaking out on the nape of my neck.
Raidyn reached for me, taking my hand in both of his. “You’re freezing,” he said, rubbing it gently.
“When do we go?” I repeated, the words shaking with the rest of my body.
He didn’t look up. “Tomorrow.”
I stared at him. “So soon.”
“I don’t want to, but Sachiel made the same point you just did—he can’t be allowed to come back here and open the gateway. If he does…” He continued to rub my skin, but even the heat of his touch couldn’t chase away the chill of his words.
We were silent for several moments, except for the sounds of the storm still lashing the citadel, unrelenting and ferocious.
“When we go … I can ride with you, can’t I?”
Raidyn stared down at me, my hand clasped between his. We stood close enough that when he breathed, his chest brushed my fingertips. “If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice low.
Lightning flared in the skylight overhead, instantly followed by a blast of thunder that reverberated through the stones beneath my feet, making me jump. Even Raidyn flinched.
“That’s what I want,” I said. “Please.”
His thumb moved in slow circles on the pad of my hand, sending a small wave of warmth up my arm, nudging back the chill that still gripped my body. “What about Inara? Are you sure you can leave her?”
It was difficult to think clearly standing so close to him in the sweltering darkness. “She should come too. She can ride with Sharmaine or Loukas.”
“I don’t know if they’d be willing to do that. If we do find Barloc, they both have jobs to do to keep you safe. Shar is going to try to shield you, while Loukas takes control of Barloc’s mind. It would complicate things quite a bit for them to have another person riding on their gryphon to worry about.”
“Oh.” I didn’t want to put them in danger. But I couldn’t stand the thought of Inara being left at the citadel, trapped once again. “Maybe Loukas could stay farther back? So they won’t be in danger?”
A dark shadow that had nothing to do with the storm flashed across Raidyn’s face. “Possibly. But he has to be fairly close to the person to be able to fully control their mind. As you know.”
“He didn’t use his power on me. He never has.”
“There’s no way for you to know that.”
“If he had, I would have been completely convinced you were using me to get here to search for your parents. But his words only put doubts in my mind. He didn’t convince me of anything.”
Raidyn exhaled. “It’s not always that simple. He’s very gifted … he can use his power more subtly than you may realize.”
“Don’t you think I would know if he had forced me to think or feel a certain way? Would I have decided I trusted you after all if he had?” I pulled my hands free of his and stepped back. “He’s not the one making me doubt you—you are.
”
Raidyn gaped at me. “I don’t understand.”
“Why did you go to Sharmaine after you talked to him? I saw you two flying together. Instead of coming to find me, you went to her.” I hated how I sounded—but couldn’t keep the question from leaving my mouth.
“Sharmaine is my friend—and she’s known Loukas as long as I have.” He shoved one hand through his already-disheveled blond hair. “I needed to talk to someone who really knows him, who could help me figure out if I should believe him or not.”
“He told me about the three of you,” I said. “How you both … you both love her.” The words burned their way up my throat and out, too late to be smothered.
Raidyn reeled back as if I’d slapped him. “He told you what?”
I couldn’t look at him anymore. The cold panic was replaced entirely by misery that was both hot and nauseating. “That … that you both love her. But that she loves you.”
“Zuhra.” My name came out a strangled plea. “You have to believe me when I tell you that he’s wrong. He’s using his power to confuse you. I just don’t know why.”
“He didn’t use his power on me!” I insisted angrily. “I’ve seen you with her—I’ve seen her with you. It’s obvious you do care for each other. And … when we were healing Inara … I saw you … I saw the day when you found them kissing. I felt your anger, your hurt.”
Raidyn flinched. “That was years ago, Zuhra. That was—”
Another clap of thunder growled around us, drowning out his words so he had to repeat himself.
“Yes, there was a time when I thought I cared for her that way. But Loukas is the one who is in love with her, not me. I love Sharmaine, it’s true. But”—he rushed on, grabbing my arm to stop me when I tried to spin away—“as a sister. As the only family I have left.”
I kept my head turned, even though his words chipped away at the confusion in my heart. “I’ve never had friends before,” I admitted quietly. “I’ve never been around boys. I don’t … I don’t know what to believe. And it’s not because of Loukas.”
Warriors of Wing and Flame Page 10