The Beauty of Darkness

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The Beauty of Darkness Page 6

by Mary E. Pearson


  Orrin’s horse was rearing back, and the others were trying to control their skittering horses on the narrow trail. For a few seconds, confusion reigned and then we saw what had happened. Griz had fallen, blocking the path. Kaden knelt beside him, yelling for someone to untie him so he could help Griz.

  Rafe ordered everyone to hold their positions, as if he suspected a trick. He dismounted to investigate, but we quickly saw where Griz’s cloak had fallen away, revealing bloody, wet fabric on his side. His face was waxy and damp, and I knew it was no trick. The wound Jorik had inflicted days ago was still bleeding.

  “What happened?” Rafe asked.

  “It’s nothing,” Griz growled. “Just give me a hand—”

  “Shut up,” Kaden told him. He looked up at Rafe. “It’s from the battle on the terrace. He took a sword in his side. I tried to bandage it, but it keeps opening back up.”

  Griz snarled at Kaden and tried to rise on his own, but Rafe held him down with his boot. “Don’t move,” he ordered, then yelled over his shoulder for Tavish. “Come take a look at this.”

  Kaden was escorted several feet away by Orrin and directed to sit while Tavish examined Griz. The rest of us hovered, watching as Tavish pulled up Griz’s filthy vest and shirt, and then cut away the sodden bandages.

  Sven groaned when he saw the wound, and I stifled a shudder. The eight-inch gash was caked with dried black blood, and the skin around it was red and inflamed. Yellow pus oozed from the wound.

  Tavish shook his head, saying he couldn’t do anything about it here on the trail. It needed hot water and cleaning before he could stitch anything. “It’s going to take some work.”

  The way he said work, I knew even he was doubtful about how much he’d be able to do. I knelt down beside Griz. “Do you have any thannis with you?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “I have some,” Kaden called from his guarded position several feet away.

  “I’m not drinking any thannis,” Griz groaned.

  “Quiet!” I said. “If I command you to drink, you’ll drink.” But what I had in mind was a poultice once we got down to the valley to help draw out some of the poison.

  They untied his hands, and it took Rafe, Jeb, and Sven working together to get Griz to his feet. Several curses later, they finally loaded him onto his horse. They were no longer worried about him making sudden moves. Kaden was still forced to walk ahead of us. His status hadn’t changed.

  Sven rode close to Griz, and when he teetered in his saddle, Sven reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him.

  Because of the delays with Griz and Kaden joining our caravan, we didn’t reach the valley floor until dusk. Kaden had been walking for five hours now with his hands tied behind his back. I saw the fatigue in his steps, but strangely, instead of sympathy, my own anger and fears resurfaced. How many months had I been in that same position, a half-starved prisoner, humiliated and afraid, uncertain if I’d live another day? He hadn’t suffered half as much as I had. Yet. The unsettling difference was, he had come looking for this trouble. Why was he really here?

  We rode down the main avenue, surrounded by the eerie boxy giants. Many of the ancient walls and roofs were still intact. There was a quick scramble to choose a suitable shelter, which meant one that could be defended—just in case.

  Rafe and Tavish conferred, and a ruin was decided upon. We all gathered armfuls of what loose and dried branches we could find and filed into the cavernous dwelling, taking the horses with us. It probably could have held an entire regiment.

  As soon as a fire was roaring, I prepared a poultice, helping myself to whatever was in Kaden’s saddlebag. Tavish sharpened his knife and work began on Griz. Our shelter rose several stories, and thick slabs of stone that had fallen from higher places littered the floor around us. Griz was laid out on one of them. As weak as he was and, now it seemed, slightly delirious, it took all four of them to hold him down while Tavish cleaned the wound.

  Kaden was ordered to sit in an open area far from the gear and fire. I sat nearby on a large block of rock, guarding him, a sword across my lap. A strange feeling knotted inside me, like a meal that wasn’t eaten properly, rushed and uncomfortable. I noted his arms, still bound behind his back. A sour taste rose in my throat.

  He was the prisoner now, like the prisoner he had made me. All his actions I had sloughed off and forgotten, because I knew that in some twisted way he had also saved my life, were suddenly as fresh and hurtful as if they had happened yesterday. I felt the rope cutting into my wrists and the suffocating terror of trying to breathe beneath a black hood he had pulled over my head. I felt the shame of crying as my face was ground into the sand. My emotions weren’t blinding and explosive, as they had been back then, but were now tight and contained, like an animal pacing behind the cage of my ribs.

  Kaden met my stare, his eyes revealing nothing; cold, calm, dead. I wanted to see terror in them. Fear. Just as he had surely seen it in mine when I discovered he wasn’t the pelt trader he had claimed to be but an assassin sent to kill me.

  “How does it feel?” I asked.

  He acted as if he didn’t know what I was talking about. I tried to goad his fear to the surface. “How does it feel to have your hands tied behind your back? To be dragged across the wilderness, not knowing what will happen to you?” I forced a long and luxurious smile as if I was enjoying the turn of our fortunes. “How does it feel to be a prisoner, Kaden?”

  “I’m not fond of it, if that’s what you want to hear.”

  My eyes stung. I wanted far more than that. “What I want is to watch you beg for your release. To desperately bargain for your life like I had to.”

  He sighed.

  “That’s all I get? A sigh?”

  “I know that you suffered, Lia, but I did what I thought was right at the time. I can’t take back what I’ve done. I can only try to make amends.”

  I choked on the word. I knew bitterly the cost of trying to make amends, and how pathetically they could fall short. When Greta died, I thought it was all my fault as I tried to make amends, but now I realized I hadn’t even known the rules of the game I’d been drawn into, nor all the players—like the traitors back in Civica. My amends would have changed nothing. The lies went on and on. Just like Kaden’s lies.

  “You lied to me about the footbridge,” I said. “It was there all along.”

  “Yes. Four miles north of the Brightmist gate. It’s not there anymore. We cut it down.”

  Four miles? We could have gotten there on foot.

  I leaned back on the rock. “So what cunning story did you spin to get them to spare your lives? I’m sure it was an excellent one. You’re the master of deceit, after all.”

  He studied me, his brown eyes as dark and deep as night. “No,” he said. “Not anymore. I think that title has fallen to you.”

  I looked away. It was a title I would gladly embrace if it could get me what I needed. I stared at the firelight dancing across the steel of the sword, both edges equally sharp and gleaming. “I did what I had to do.”

  “All those things you told me? Only what you had to do?”

  I stood, the sword still in my hand. I wasn’t going to get wrangled down a path of guilt. “Who sent you, Kaden?” I demanded. “Why are you here? Was it Malich?”

  A disgusted smirk twisted his lip.

  “Say it,” I said.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, Lia, we were outnumbered that day on the terrace. We barely escaped with our lives. Faiwel died. So did the other guards who fought by our sides. Griz and I managed to fight our way down to a portal on the lowest level, and we sealed the door behind us. From there we hid in various abandoned passages for three days. When they couldn’t find us, they assumed we had escaped on another raft.”

  “And just how would you know what they assumed? Or that there was a squad sent after us?”

  “One of the passages we hid in was next to Sanctum Hall. We heard the Komizar shouting orders, one o
f which was to find you.”

  My knees turned to water. I stared at Kaden, the cavern suddenly spinning with shadows. “But he’s dead.”

  “He could be by now. He was weak, but Ulrix called for healers. They were caring for him.”

  My legs gave way, and I dropped to the floor. I saw the Komizar’s eyes drilling into me, the dragon refusing to die.

  “Lia,” Kaden whispered, “untie me. Please. It’s the only way I can help you.” He scooted closer, until our knees almost touched.

  I tried to focus but instead I was smelling the salty blood that had spilled to the terrace, seeing the shine of Aster’s eyes, hearing the chants of the crowd, feeling the icy grip of the knife as I pulled it from its sheath, the day coming to life again, the disbelief that had swept over me, the seconds that changed everything, the Komizar crumpling to the ground, and my naïve hope swelling that it could really be over.

  Words, dry as chalk, lay on my tongue. I swallowed, searching for saliva, and finally managed a hoarse whisper. “What happened to the others, Kaden? Calantha, Effiera, the servants?” I rattled off another half dozen names of those who had been sympathetic to me, those who had looked at me with hopeful eyes. They had expected something from me that I didn’t deliver. A promise they were still waiting for.

  His brow furrowed. “Most likely dead. Clans who cheered your succession in the square suffered losses. It was a message. I don’t know the numbers, but at least a hundred were slaughtered. All of Aster’s clan, including Effiera.”

  My thoughts whirled. “Yvet and Zekiah?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know the answer. “And Eben?”

  “I don’t know.” But the tone of his voice held little hope. He glanced at my lap. The sword still lay across it.

  Part of me wanted to untie him, to believe every word he had told me, that he was only here to help us escape, but Rafe’s story didn’t match Kaden’s. Rafe had seen the Komizar dead. He’d told Sven he’d seen the corpse dragged away.

  The cavern shuddered with a sudden bellowing scream. I heard Sven curse and the shouts of the others trying to hold Griz down. The worried flutter of birds roosting high above us sent sandy debris raining down.

  Kaden looked up as if something else might lurk in the dark floors above us. “Untie me, Lia. Before it’s too late. I promise you I’m not lying.”

  I stood, dusting off my trousers, a familiar ache blooming in my chest. Venda always comes first. His long-ago words burned bright. If any words were true in Kaden’s heart, I knew it was those.

  I lifted the sword and pressed its sharp edge to his neck. “You may have saved my life, Kaden, but you haven’t yet earned my trust. I care about all these men I am traveling with. I won’t have them harmed.”

  His eyes smoldered with frustration. Things were different now. There was far more at stake than just my life and saving it. There was everyone I loved in Morrighan, everyone I cared about in Venda, every one of the men in this company I rode with—they were threaded into every thought and movement I made. They had to become part of his thoughts too. He had to care like I did. Venda couldn’t come first for him anymore. Even I couldn’t come first.

  * * *

  I lay curled in Rafe’s arms, exhaustion overtaking both of us. I had asked him again about the Komizar, telling him what Kaden said. He told me not to worry, that the Komizar was dead—but I saw his hesitation this time before he answered, the slack in his jaw, the barest stalled moment that told me what I needed to know. He was lying. He hadn’t seen the body dragged away. I wasn’t sure if I should be angry with him, or grateful. I knew he was only trying to calm my fears, but I didn’t want to be calmed. I wanted to be prepared. I didn’t push the point. Rest was more imperative to our survival. His eyes were lined with fatigue.

  We were nestled in a dark nook of the ruin that afforded us only a small amount of privacy. A few fallen slabs separated us from the others and the glow of the firelight. Orrin had first watch. I could hear him pacing on the gravel floor just feet away. Maybe it was the rustling of birds somewhere high above us, or the distant howling of wolves that kept him on edge. Or the fact that the Assassin now slept among us. Maybe that was why none of us could sleep.

  Only Griz seemed to find deep slumber, swept away into some dark dream-filled world. Tavish said if he made it through the night, he might have a chance. There was nothing more any of us could do.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KADEN

  Orrin’s pacing was driving me mad. It made it difficult to hear other noises. Things I should listen for. I rolled to my side, trying to reach the rope around my feet, but the knots were out of my reach. My shoulder ached from lying for hours in the same position.

  For a moment, when I had told her about the Komizar, I’d thought Lia would untie me. I saw the struggle behind her eyes. I saw our connection rekindle. But then a wall came down. This was a harder Lia than I had known, fierce and unbending, but I knew what had been done to her, and the horrors she had witnessed.

  How does it feel?

  The rope dug into my wrists. Numbed my ankles.

  Familiar, I had wanted to answer. Being a prisoner feels familiar.

  It was all I had ever been. My past held on to me today as strongly as it had when I was a child, my choices still limited, my steps still shackled. My life had been patched together with lies from the day I was born.

  How does it feel?

  Old. I was tired of the lies.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The end was in sight. Just ahead, the foothills were stepping back, and the last of the ruins were melting into the earth. The majesty of the Ancients bowed yet again to time, which proved itself the ultimate victor. I was relieved to see the first glimpses of open grasslands up ahead, yellow with winter. The valley had twisted on far longer than I had anticipated, though some of the length may have had to do with the company I rode between. Even when sharp words weren’t bandied between Rafe and Kaden, I felt the blows of their dark glances.

  If ever there were three mismatched riders, it was us—the crown prince of Dalbreck, the Assassin of Venda, and the fugitive princess of Morrighan. Sons and daughter of three kingdoms, each bent on the domination of the other two. If our situation hadn’t been so dire, I would have thrown back my head and laughed at the irony. It seemed whether I was at the citadelle or in the far-flung wilderness, I was ever caught in the middle of opposing forces.

  Griz had not only made it through the first night but had woken up hungry. Tavish said nothing, but I saw his relief and maybe some of his lost pride restored. Each day Griz grew stronger, and now after three days, his color was ruddy and the fever gone. Tavish asked me about the thannis poultice I applied daily. I shared what I knew about the purple weed, including its brief but deadly golden phase, when it seeded. He took the pouch that I offered him, noting he would avoid the golden flowers if he found any. Griz told him not to worry, that he wouldn’t find any thannis here. It grew only in Venda. I wished now I had some of those golden seeds, if only to plant a few in Berdi’s garden.

  Kaden was finally allowed to ride his horse. His hands were still tied, but at least in front of him now. The squad he had claimed was hunting us down hadn’t materialized, but the possibility still kept us all on edge. I believed Kaden’s story. I was sure the others did too, though Rafe would admit to nothing. The fact that he let Kaden ride was admission enough. He wanted to get to the safety of the outpost as soon as possible. Only half a day’s ride to go, he had estimated when we packed up this morning. Sven concurred.

  The Marabella outpost was the closest point of safety. It was named after one of their long-ago queens. Rafe said there were more than four hundred soldiers stationed there and it was easily defendable. Once there, we could rest, stock up on supplies, change out our horses, and continue on our journey with additional soldiers. With the Komizar dead, I hadn’t felt it necessary to return to Civica immediately, but now with even the slim possibility of him being alive and able to
carry out his plan to annihilate Morrighan, the urgency returned. As much as I delighted in the idea of having several days of rest with Rafe, we couldn’t stay long at the outpost. Morrighan had to be warned not only about the Komizar, but also the traitors who aided him.

  Rafe took a long swig of water from his canteen. “Be sure to drink, Lia,” he said absently as his eyes scanned the landscape ahead. He never rested. I wasn’t sure he even slept most nights. The slightest noise roused him. By bringing Kaden and Griz into our company, he only had more to juggle, and the exhaustion showed on his face. He needed a good night’s sleep, one where he didn’t carry the weight of everyone’s safety on his shoulders. He turned to me and smiled unexpectedly, as if he knew I was watching him. “Almost there.” The icy blue of his gaze lingered, igniting a fire in my belly that spread down to my toes. His eyes turned reluctantly back to the trail ahead, his guard back up. We weren’t there yet. He continued to talk as he watched our path. “First thing I’m going to do is take a hot bath—then burn these filthy barbarian clothes.”

  I heard Kaden pull in a seething breath.

  Behind us there was banter on the amenities of the outpost. “First thing I’m going to do is break into Colonel Bodeen’s red-eye,” Sven said cheerfully, as if he was tasting the burning brew in his throat already.

  “And I’ll lift a few with you,” Griz added.

  “Bodeen keeps a fetching pantry too,” Orrin added admiringly.

  “Barbarian or not, the clothes served you well enough,” Kaden shot at Rafe. “You were lucky to have them.”

  Rafe leveled a cool stare over his shoulder at Kaden. “So I was,” he answered. “Just as you were lucky that I didn’t part your head from your neck when we parried in Sanctum Hall.”

  Only stewing silence was returned by Kaden.

  But then I noticed there was a strange brooding silence everywhere. My fingertips tingled. A sudden pall had fallen, as if someone had boxed my ears. Blood rushed to my temples. I turned my head, listening. And then, from somewhere faraway, the satisfied purr of an animal. You are ours. I looked at Rafe. Movement around me was drawn and slow, and the small hairs on my neck lifted.

 

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