Night Quest

by Susan Krinard

  He strode away.

  Artemis studied Garret’s face. “You quarreled,” she said.

  “I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you,” he said, well aware that he wasn’t able to hide his anger.

  “Will you tell me why?” she asked.

  Garret couldn’t trust himself to speak. He slung the VS over his arm and took the rabbits from her. “Thanks for these. Did you get enough for yourself?”

  “Did Kronos threaten you?” she demanded.

  “He’s very protective of you.”

  “You are not telling me everything.”

  “If I’m going to cook those rabbits,” he said, “we’d better return to the others.”

  They fell into step and headed back to the place where Kronos had set up his temporary camp. Garret told her briefly about the Freeblood attack and what Kronos had told him about the reason behind it.

  She stopped. “I am sorry, Garret,” she said, her lip twitching above her upper teeth. “It will not happen again.”

  He took her arm and led her forward. “I don’t want you fighting them, Artemis. It won’t advance your cause. Kronos explained more about what you and he were hoping to accomplish in Oceanus.”

  She stopped again and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. Holding the rabbits awkwardly in one hand, he returned the embrace and closed his eyes.

  “Garret,” Artemis said, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I don’t want you to hate Kronos.”

  He dropped the rabbits on the ground and put both arms around her. “I don’t hate him,” he said.

  Her lips brushed the base of his neck, sending almost violent tremors through his body. “Whatever I am as an Opir,” she said, “he is responsible for it.”

  “No one is responsible for what you are but you.” He set her back so that he could see her face. “And that’s something pretty damned remarkable.”

  She gazed at him, her eyes bright and expressive. Her feelings seemed as real and solid as her lithe body and the tender lips so eager for his touch.

  “Garret,” she murmured, “have I told you that I—”

  “Garret? Artemis?”

  Garret started at the sound of the familiar voice and let her go. Pericles stood behind her, grinning, and as flush with health and happiness as any Nightsider could be.

  “Pericles!” Artemis said. “How did you find us?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier,” Pericles said, looking from her to Garret, “but I was scouting for Kronos.” He beamed at Garret. “After you set me free, I searched for him.” His gaze darted back to Artemis. “He’s amazing. He welcomed me, and I’ve been—” He broke off, like a child unable to keep his mind on one subject at a time. “You saved my life, Garret. I know you had to leave Delos because of that.” He sobered. “I’m sorry.”

  “I knew what I was doing,” Garret said, hoping he was right. “Did you see Daniel or any of the patrols who were hunting us?”

  “I managed to evade them,” Pericles said. “But as far as I know, no one else has seen them since we got close to the river.”

  “I am glad you are safe,” Artemis said.

  “Now nothing can stop us from finding Timon,” Garret said.

  And nothing, Garret thought—not paranoid humans, hungry Freebloods, or even his own doubt—was going to slow him down again.

  * * *

  But it wasn’t quite that simple.

  Garret had taken precautions to prevent another incident like the one with Flavia and Xenophon. He and Artemis had agreed that they should travel a little apart from Kronos’s band and maintain some physical distance from one another, but it was obvious from the second night how much of a challenge it would be to stay apart. Garret was hyperaware of Artemis’s presence as they crossed the border into old Washington State, and made their way through fallen cities, dense forest, and over hill and mountain. His body seemed attuned to hers to a degree he hadn’t experienced with anyone else, including Roxana, and he always knew where she was relative to his own position at any given moment.

  She seemed equally aware of him, and they would find themselves staring at each other across the small fires he made to cook game or to warm himself as the nights grew increasingly cold. He was haunted by vivid images of her supple figure, arms and legs wrapped around him, nipples peaked and tight against his chest as she took him inside her. There were times when he knew she was seeing the same images; her lips would part and her eyes become dazed with memory and hunger.

  By unspoken agreement, they never discussed her taking his blood again. Even if she hadn’t already inexplicably chosen to avoid it since Coos Bay, she had excellent reason to reject it now.

  Sometimes, when she returned from a hunt with the other Opiri, Garret would see her locked deep in conversation with Kronos. Each time he swallowed his envy, and each time she returned to him, even if all they did together was sit quietly and companionably while the Nightsiders rested after their feeding.

  Pericles spent nearly all his time trailing in Kronos’s wake like an eager acolyte, accepting any attention with the kind of gratitude he’d once bestowed on Artemis. He seemed so focused on his new hero that he seldom spoke to her or Garret.

  By night and by day they traveled, careful to stay hidden, always alert for other groups of Opiri. Their scouts observed more and more such packs the farther north they went.

  And there were children. Stolen half-bloods, sometimes several with the larger packs. The first few times Garret and Artemis had argued in favor of saving the children, but Kronos had refused to help. There was nowhere to keep them safe, and there were far too many rogues to fight on equal terms.

  But other Freebloods joined Kronos along the journey, most of them obviously acquainted with him and willing to follow his lead. They provided more information about the mysterious Bloodlord known as “the Master,” and confirmed that he had gathered large numbers of Freebloods near a fortress, or possibly a castle, in the Canadian mountains, promising them some unknown reward for delivering the half-bloods.

  Everything had been going smoothly—almost too smoothly, Garret thought—when several of Kronos’s Freebloods returned with the human captives.

  Garret was the first to see them and their captors hiding in the woods just outside the small clearing where the Opiri had made their temporary night camp. The three humans were dressed in camouflage uniforms, clearly soldiers or scouts of some kind. The Freebloods—Flavia among them—were arguing among themselves, and Garret listened from cover as they discussed taking blood from the humans right under Kronos’s nose.

  Knowing better than to confront them directly, Garret went looking for Kronos. He was speaking sternly to Artemis, whose face was unusually pale.

  Garret interrupted the conversation. “You have Freebloods flouting your laws,” he said with a quick, probing glance at Artemis. “They’ve captured three humans, and plan to take their blood. I won’t let that happen.”

  “Nor will I,” Kronos said, getting to his feet. He and Artemis followed Garret to the hiding place, Garret automatically reaching out to steady Artemis when she stumbled several times along the way.

  But he didn’t get a chance to ask her what was wrong. The Freebloods had sensed their coming and were already arrayed in a defiant line, with the bound humans behind them.

  “What is this?” Kronos demanded.

  “We found these humans sniffing around the camp,” Flavia said.

  “And so you took them, against my express orders?” Kronos asked.

  “They’re spies, fair game,” Flavia said. She sneered at Garret and Artemis. “We’ll find out who sent them soon enough.”

  Garret positioned himself between Artemis and the Freebloods, cursing himself for having left the VS behind at his campsite. “I thought K
ronos taught you a lesson,” he said.

  “He said that you were not to be touched,” Flavia said. “But we know that she takes your blood even now.”

  “Why do you believe this?” Kronos asked.

  “It is obvious,” one of the male Freebloods said. “She barely touches the game we hunt. It repulses her. There is only one reason why an Opir will refuse animal blood. She must have a blood-bond with the human.”

  A current of shock raced through Garret’s body. A blood-bond. It happened between some Opiri and their serfs in the Citadels, and among free Opiri-human couples. It was not rare, but it wasn’t common, either. When it occurred, the body chemistry of both partners was altered, and all other sources of blood became unpalatable to the Nightsider.

  But he’d never suspected that the growing closeness between Artemis and himself might be part of such a physical bond. Now her ongoing fatigue, in spite of regular hunts, made perfect sense.

  Was she starving herself to set an example for Kronos’s other followers, or because she rejected the bond itself?

  Chapter 18

  Artemis stared at Garret, her distress emanating from her body like a ragged halo. “It is not true,” she said.

  “Of course it is not,” Kronos said. “Artemis abides by our compact.”

  The rustle of moving bodies followed his denial, and Garret became aware that they had attracted an audience. All but a few of Kronos’s disciples were now listening intently, waiting to hear how the drama would play out.

  If it went wrong, Garret thought, Artemis would face a crowd of angry Freebloods—and continue to starve until she died.

  “Your feelings for the human are clear,” Flavia said to Artemis, “as are his for you. How will you prove that you have no bond?”

  “If it existed,” Garret said, “I think I would know it.”

  “Your word isn’t good enough, human,” the male Freeblood said. He looked at Kronos. “If you cannot convince your chief disciple to follow your path, why should we obey you?”

  Kronos stared at his challenger, and Garret could almost feel the power emanating from him. This was a Nightsider accustomed to being obeyed, exile or not.

  But these were Freebloods, not his vassals, and they were far from the hierarchical structure of the Citadels.

  “I will prove that you are wrong,” Artemis said, stepping in front of Garret. He moved to pull her back and stopped, realizing that the wrong action on his part could provoke the Freebloods into hurting the human captives as well as attacking Artemis. His need to protect her might set off an explosion that none of them could contain.

  “Yes,” Flavia said, “prove it.” She pointed behind her into the woods. “We have fresh game. If you take your full share of the blood and your body accepts it, we will know there is no bond between you and the human.”

  * * *

  Artemis’s heart felt slow and sluggish. She knew she was much weaker than she should be; Garret had noticed it days ago, but each time he had chosen to trust her rather than question her about her condition.

  This was the price he paid for that trust, to learn from hostile Freebloods what she had known of and tried so hard to ignore since they had left Coos Bay: the blood-bond that had developed between them in spite of all her efforts to prevent it.

  Now she was caught, and Garret was in terrible danger. He had denied that any such bond existed, but she knew that he had only meant to protect her, with no thought for himself. His mind was steady and unshaken, focused on saving her, even though he must know there was nothing he could do.

  “Will you release the captives if I satisfy you?” she asked Flavia.

  The Freeblood nodded. “If you prove you are still truly one of us.”

  Battling nausea, Artemis stepped forward. She felt Garret’s silent protest and focused on projecting confidence back at him, hoping he would sense it as well as he did so many of her other emotions.

  It will be all right.

  Pushing all awareness of Garret out of her thoughts, she followed Flavia into the thicket of small trees and bushes. Her mind was assaulted with the emotions emanating from Flavia and her two cronies, their hostility, their envy, their contempt for Garret. Their hunger. And she felt the humans’ emotions, as well: fear, anger, the drive to escape at any cost.

  She was raw and open to all of them, her mental shields fallen to exhaustion and illness. She deliberately dropped the last of her defenses, the ones she had built against herself. The ones that controlled her ability to project her feelings. The ones that kept her from becoming something she despised.

  It would be easy to make Flavia see what Artemis wanted her to see, believe what Artemis wanted her to believe. Extending the control to the others would be more difficult, but far from impossible.

  But once she gave in to the temptation...

  You have no choice, she thought.

  “Do you intend to do this or not?” Flavia asked, baring her teeth.

  Artemis moved forward slowly, the scent of blood strong in her nose. She followed Flavia deeper into the woods. The game was fresh, and Artemis did her best not to flinch at the knowledge that there had been no need to kill the creature.

  She did what Flavia expected, though it sickened her. Through the sickness, she imagined herself passing Flavia’s test without difficulty, projected that image to Flavia and the others just out of sight.

  When she was finished, she still didn’t know if she’d succeeded. She wiped her mouth and met Flavia’s gaze, concealing her disgust at what she had done. What she’d had to do.

  Her eyes unfocused, Flavia blinked several times and nodded with obvious reluctance. “You have passed the test,” she said.

  Artemis remembered to breathe. “Set the humans free,” she said.

  “Surely Kronos will wish to question them first.”

  “He did not ask,” Artemis said, “and you gave your word.”

  With a sharp sigh and a nod to her followers, Flavia began to untie the first of the human prisoners. As soon as the others were free, the male with the uniform markings that designated the highest rank prodded them from their stupor, and the three of them bounded off into the forest. The leader looked back once, briefly meeting Artemis’s gaze, and then vanished.

  Artemis was left with the aftertaste of Flavia’s angry disappointment in her mind as she walked back into the clearing. Garret was on his feet watching for her, while Kronos stood at his ease, his hands clasped lightly behind his back.

  “The humans are gone,” Artemis said, meeting Kronos’s gaze. “There is no question of any blood-bond with Garret Fox. This does not mean that I will cease to regard him as an ally who saved my life and set me free when he could have delivered me to Delos.”

  The remaining Freebloods muttered among themselves, but none seemed inclined to question her further. The crowd broke up, the Freebloods drifting away until only Garret, Kronos and Artemis were left.

  “What did you do?” Garret asked, moving closer to Artemis.

  “She convinced Flavia and her lackeys that she does not share a blood-bond with you,” Kronos said.

  Garret pulled Artemis aside. “Is it true?” he asked. “Is there a bond between us?”

  She knew that no matter what she told him, it wouldn’t alter the truth. He only wanted confirmation of what he already knew.

  And he feared for her...feared the hold Kronos might have over her, worried about how she would deal with the need for his blood when the risk of exposure was so great. Soon, even animal blood would be completely unpalatable to her.

  “It does not matter if there is a bond or not,” Kronos said before Artemis could speak. “Have you been breaking my laws?”

  “No,” Garret snapped.

  “Then you must remain apart unless you are in full vie
w of my followers.”

  “To hell with your noble philosophy,” Garret said. “Do you think I’ll let her starve?”

  “There are ways of breaking such bonds,” Kronos said. “It will not be easy or comfortable, but—”

  “It’s like breaking an addiction, but a hundred times worse,” Garret said. “I’ve seen it. Artemis will be the one to suffer.” He took her arm. “We’ll go ahead on our own.”

  Artemis leaned against him, trying to clear her mind and get her ability under control again. She could influence the thoughts of others and cloud their minds, but she could not seem to think for herself.

  “You do know what you have done to her, besides making her dependent upon your blood?” Kronos asked. “You have taken all choices from her.”

  “She has already made her choice,” Garret said, his voice nearly a growl.

  “Has she? Or have you made it for her?”

  “I’ve never forced Artemis to do anything against her will,” Garret said.

  “Perhaps not deliberately,” Kronos said. “But your emotions have constantly affected her. Your mere presence has influenced every move she has made.”

  “Even a blood-bond isn’t that powerful.”

  “I am not speaking of something so simple.” Kronos glanced at Artemis. “She is what you would call an empath. She can sense and even share the emotions of others. But surely you must know that by now, Garret Fox.”

  Garret stared into her eyes, and she felt him remembering times when he had almost believed he’d felt her emotions, even sensed her thoughts.

  “Garret,” she began, “whatever you may think—”

  “I knew she possessed some degree of skill when I first saved her life by converting her,” Kronos cut in as if she hadn’t spoken, “but it was much enhanced by the change. In the years she was with me, she shared my emotions as well as my work, even when I believed I had lost all capacity to feel. She awakened a part of me that had long been dead.”

  Garret flinched, and Artemis caught a fleeting glimpse of Roxana. A part of him had been dead, too. He could feel the changes within himself—changes he had only begun to accept—because of her.