Borne Rising

by Matthew Callahan

  “You’re insane,” Morella muttered, glaring at him. “To even think that you could understand his plan—”

  “Plan?” Madigan snapped. “Right, plan. What’s our plan, Will? You taking us back to Aeril? Abandoning this world?” Madigan approached, towering over his brother. “Three years, Will. Almost three years that Valmont must have known where I was. How else could he have just appeared today?”

  Will felt cold at the words, but he tried to dismiss it. “Shut up, Mad.”

  “Three years he waited. And for what?” Madigan looked Will up and down. “Until my little brother shows up.”

  “I said shut up.”

  “Why, am I starting to make sense?” Madigan’s voice was calm and level. It infuriated Will. “He waited until we were both together again and then he destroys everything we have here. He, what? He presents some big, scary weapon that corrupts everything it touches? Drives us to run again but doesn’t pursue?” Madigan shook his head. “No. He knows we’ll hide back in Aeril. He’s manipulating this whole thing.”

  “Shut. Up.” Will’s body tensed. Static rose in the air. He felt the power surging through him. Burn him, a distant part of his brain called to him, cleanse the taint of Shadow from his soul. He tried to shove the voice down, to ignore it and the part of him that screamed for destruction.

  Madigan looked at him imploringly. “We’re being played, Will.”

  The flare of lightning that engulfed Will’s hand was the embodiment of the frustration and rage that coursed through his body. He lashed out, his fist striking his brother across the jaw. There was an audible sound of his stunned brother’s teeth jarring together as his head whipped back, sending him whirling.

  Madigan’s Shade was alive in a heartbeat, surrounding him protectively. He spun back to face Will, his eyes solid black, like the pupils had spread to the very reaches of his sockets. He loomed over Will, the darkness billowing around him. Despite himself, Will recoiled. He hadn’t even realized that he’d drawn the blood fangs until they were raised in front of him defensively, popping with blue lightning.

  “What the hell has happened to you?” Madigan spat out the words, but his voice was filled with disappointment, not rage. He stared for a moment, then dropped his arms to his side and bowed his head. “Will, it’s me.”

  “Morella.” Lightning crackled about Will. He never took his eyes from his brother. I can’t believe I was so blind. He’s as bad as the rest of them. “We’re leaving. This was a mistake.”

  “No,” she said harshly. “No, you two need to be together. You’re stronger together.”

  Will kept his eyes fixed firmly on Madigan. He shook his head slowly. “No. We don’t need him. We’re going back. Let him stay with Valmont’s pawn.”

  Mad stared at him agape. “What?”

  “You should ask Ileta about it sometime,” Will said darkly. “I hear they’re quite close.” He reached a hand back for Morella. “Let’s go. I’m done with this world.”

  “Will.” Madigan stepped toward his brother. “Please. Don’t do this.”

  “If you go,” Morella said softly, “I’m staying.”

  Her words cut through Will’s fury. He spun to face her. Her eyes were hard. Her mouth was set in a thin line. And yet . . . she’s bluffing. He could see it. She was trying to get him to stay, threatening him with something he wouldn’t expect. You’re not as good a liar as you think you are, Morella. I’m starting to see that.

  “Then stay. I’m leaving.”

  Morella’s face twisted. “Will, you’ve fought long and hard to get back to your brother. Don’t screw it up now.”

  “No.” This time it was Madigan who spoke. His voice was strained. “No, Morella. I think Will may be right on this point.”

  Will felt the anger rush out of him as confusion took over. Manipulating me, eh, Mad? His eyes hardened and leveled upon his brother. “Good, we finally agree on something.” He strode past his brother without a word. Madigan reached out and winced as he caught him with a Shade-wrapped hand. Will tensed and forced down the immediate urge to lash out with his Flare. He’s still trying to control you.

  “Just . . . be careful, Will.”

  Will wrenched his arm out of his brother’s grasp. Madigan flinched. Will’s eyes dropped to the slashed hand that had brought him back from the edge of death. Something inside him deflated. He glanced up quickly and met his brother’s eyes. There was no chastisement there, no reproach. He looked concerned. What the hell is going on with me?

  “Yeah. You too.”

  He walked away. The sky above them was filled with clouds of smoke, but he pushed it from his concern. I’m going back to Aeril. I’m done with this world.

  He made it fifty yards before Morella caught up to him, cursing under her breath. Will could feel her seething. I didn’t know she cared so much about keeping Mad and me together.

  “You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?”

  “He’ll come around once he realizes Valmont is still out there hunting him. He’ll come back.”

  She eyed him, her mouth set in a thin line. “And you’re planning what, exactly?”

  Will flicked his eyes over to her. He could feel a throb of discomfort lodged in his throat. It was a struggle, but he was determined to keep his voice level and steady. “Valmont is in this world. This world is bridged to Aeril through the Ways.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Your point?”

  “Don’t you see, Morella? We have him trapped. To return to Aeril, he needs to pass through the Cascanian Waygate.”

  Realization dawned on her face. She grabbed his arm and when she spoke, her voice was filled with incredulity. “You think you’re going to, what, trap him in the Ways? Ambush him? You think he doesn’t expect something like that every time he passes through a Waygate?”

  He yanked his arm away. “I think that it’s the only guarantee of his passage, regardless of how long it takes. Eventually, he’ll pass through again. We need to be prepared for it.”

  “And you don’t think that sharing that tidbit with your brother is a good idea?”

  Will’s mouth tightened and he kept walking. “I think that Madigan is distracted. He’s too set in his ways. His stubborn insistence and blind trust of Ileta?” Will spat. “This is how I can best protect him.”

  Something Will said had piqued Morella’s interest. “You still don’t trust the Shadowborne?” she asked.

  “She shows up, throws Madigan’s whole world into chaos, and then conveniently disappears right when we engage Valmont? No. No, I don’t trust her.”

  “Mad would probably say the same thing about me.”

  Will stopped and turned to Morella. “What?”

  “He’s never fully trusted me. He could make the same argument as you. Senraks shows up and I disappear. Valmont shows up and I’m gone. Once they’re both out of the picture, I come back.” She shook her head. “Every time bad things happen . . . it doesn’t look good, Will. Just like it doesn’t with Ileta.”

  Will took her hands and raised them to his lips, planting a soft kiss on her knuckles. “No, Morella, don’t even think that. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I know you. I trust you.”

  “I know that, lover.” Her words were quiet against the distant roar of flames. “I just meant that I could see your brother seeing it that way. I didn’t do anything to help.”

  Will shook his head. “No, that’s totally different. Ileta is Shadowborne. You’re not. Of course you were hiding.” He felt something old inside him stir. Something painful. “I’ve seen what happens when people go up against Borne and their assassins when all they have are their wits and their blades. Staying out of sight was the absolute best thing you could have done.”

  Morella’s sweet, crooked smile was light and playful. She reached up and kissed him. “You know all the right things to say to a girl.”

  “You left him behind, then?” The Crow’s disapproval was plain.

  The journey back thr
ough the Waygate had been strained but uneventful. Will had expected far more guards patrolling, given the Necrothanian invasion of the Ways, but he was surprised to find only a handful. He’d sent them back with orders for more and then he waited, guarding the passage against Valmont’s return until they arrived. Morella had kissed him and promised to wait for him at the Street, then she scurried off after the patrol.

  Valmont never appeared. Neither did Madigan. He’ll come around.

  The reinforcements arrived and Will set out for Undermyre, expecting to see the encampment of Lightborne that din’Dael had promised. He’d seen nothing. He’d asked one of the soldiers and the woman had stared at him like he was mad.

  Jero din’Dael was not one to shy from his plan simply because of a request from the Crow. Clearly, something had happened. That did not sit well with Will. He made straight for the Nordoth, the clear and present threat of Valmont far overtaking his desire for the warmth of the Street. There had been no charade with the seneschal this visit; the Crow and his retainers had seen him directly. And the dark man’s disappointment in Will was obvious.

  Will narrowed his eyes at the Crow. “I am not my brother’s caretaker. Nor does he require one. He makes his own choices.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he does.”

  Will clasped his hands behind his back and stepped forward. The room was ringed in guards and they all tensed, preparing their weapons. “What would you rather I have done, Crow? Parade an unwilling Shadowborne before you? Would you prefer to infuriate the one person in whom you seem to place hope for Aeril’s future?”

  The Crow raised a hand. The guards relaxed but did not drop their gaze from Will. The man’s voice was patronizing. “William Davis—oh, apologies, I mean Noctis Thorne—ambassador from the Sapholux. This hall appreciates the efforts you have undergone on behalf of Undermyre. Indeed, the information you bring regarding Valmont’s whereabouts presents an opportunity that we shall not miss.” He leaned forward in his chair and smiled at Will. “That being said, you will understand why I must deny your previous request from the Sapholux.”

  Will started. What? He eyed the Crow. You goddam bastard. You played me again. “I see.”

  “Undermyre would gladly accept the support of the Lightborne from Sapholux in battles to come, but no garrison shall be stationed within the Undermyrian walls.”

  Will said nothing. The Crow tilted his head in amusement and Will felt his cheeks flush. Stay calm, he’s just trying to get under your skin. “Beyond the walls, then? Would you allow a long-term encampment nearby?”

  “Certainly,” the Crow nodded, “as long as Jero din’Dael swears fealty to the Nordoth.”

  There was a hushed, nervous stirring from the guards. With effort, Will managed to keep his face blank. There’s no way Jero will go for that and the Crow knows it. He considered the man before him. He was planning something bigger than he let on, Will knew that much, but what? He wouldn’t turn on Jero, not after the efforts he went through to release him. So, what then?

  “I shall return to the Sapholux and relay your terms, Crow.”

  The Crow raised an eyebrow, the gesture as close to one of surprise that Will had ever seen him make. “Very good. Your quarters within the Nordoth shall remain yours. Ynarra will see that they are properly maintained. Commander Shifter”—the Crow raised a hand and beckoned, never breaking eye contact with Will—“dispatch the Thirteen to the Waygate, should our young Lightborne here prove correct. But first, have your men escort our guest to his chambers to prepare for his journey.”

  Armed guards? That was new. Whatever the Crow was playing at, his trust in Will had clearly diminished greatly. Will didn’t think his movements within the Nordoth would be as free as they had been. No more venturing out to the Street of Ash, then, assuming I make it back here at all. He fought down an urge to protest when the guards stepped forward. I’d better tell Morella to stay away as well; they’ll be more attentive now.

  Will turned and strode off without a word, forcing Shifter and his men to scramble after him. He led the guards to his quarters and was pleasantly surprised to find Ynarra standing outside the door, as if she had been waiting for him. Her eyes lit up when he entered the hall but quickly grew subdued and downcast when Shifter and his guards followed close behind. Will approached and, wordlessly, Ynarra unlocked the door and opened it.

  He entered with Ynarra following after him. Thankfully, Shifter and the rest remained outside. It was apparent that Ynarra wanted to speak to him, but the proximity of the guards must have made her hold her tongue. Whatever this place does to put so much fear in her, I don’t like it.

  He wandered the room for a moment and collected a few belongings, but for the life of him he could not think of anything he needed to take. In truth, he was far more concerned about who he was leaving behind rather than what.

  “Ynarra, thank you.”

  “I’ve done nothing, sir.” Her voice was trembling.

  “Yes, you have. You’ve done more than you know.” He sighed. “I’m going away again. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll be back.” He sighed and rubbed at his scruffy jaw. “The Crow said he’ll keep this room for me but . . . I don’t know if I’ll be the one using it.” He looked at the girl, taking in her fear, her sadness. “Madigan’s alive, Ynarra.”

  Her eyes shot up and met his own. The unadulterated hope and happiness within them nearly brought a smile to his face. Nearly.

  “You saw him, yes? Was he well?”

  Will was hesitant in responding. He was bleeding and broken. “He was well.”

  “Does he—I’m sorry, sir, I know I shouldn’t pry—but does he plan to . . . I’m sorry.”

  “Go ahead, please.”

  Her hands were shaking. “Does he plan to return, sir? Return to the Nordoth, I mean.”

  Will felt an ache deep inside him. “I hope so. I don’t know when, but I hope so. If he does”—he paused and looked into the girl’s eyes—“will you keep an eye on him? I’m worried about him.”

  Ynarra nodded vigorously. “It is my duty to see to the needs of the people here, sir. If he returns, I mean.”

  This time the smile came easily enough. “He is finishing up some business, Ynarra, business that no one is sure how long will take. But I sincerely believe that he plans to return. There’s something here for him to return to.”

  A hopeful smile flitted across her face and she took a hesitant step toward Will. Whatever she was planning, Will never got a chance to find out. Instead, Ynarra’s nature overtook the brief bout of confidence. She bowed quickly then scurried from the room without another word.

  “That was sweet.”

  Will whirled. Morella was leaning against the railing of his loft.

  “Morella? What are you doing here?” He made no effort to hide his shock.

  “I got bored of waiting at the Street.” She gave a casual shrug as if she couldn’t be bothered to explain further.

  “But why the hell are you in here, I mean?”

  She raised an eyebrow and then gave a half turn and coyly hid behind her shoulder. “Why, William, can’t you see for yourself?”

  Will looked on as she dropped the shoulder of her wrap, exposing bare skin. His skin flushed.

  “Morella, there’s no time. There’s a squad right outside the door waiting for me. I’ve got to get out of here. You have to get out of here. If they see you, there’ll be too many questions. I’m on thin ice here and I don’t exactly know why.”

  She gave a playful pout, but Will could see the dark frustration poorly hidden beneath. “Fine,” she said, “I’ll leave right after you.”

  Will was ready to drop it, but then something snagged in his mind. “Morella, how did you get in?”

  “The same way you used. You showed it to me enough times.”

  “Yeah, but it’s locked. Plus, this place is swarming with more guards than usual.”

  She rolled her eyes. “When has that ever
stopped either of us, Will?”

  “And the guards below in the yard?”

  She smiled. “I can be quiet enough when the mood strikes me. So, what now?”

  Will walked to the closed curtains and opened them, displaying all of Undermyre and the lands beyond. “Now it looks like I’ve got to figure out what the hell happened to din’Dael and why he’s so damn late.”

  Morella’s smile disappeared. “You’re returning to the Sapholux?”

  “So it would seem.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t suppose you feel like joining me?”

  “Let’s see, hours upon hours of endless ease at the Street—all courtesy of the Nordoth, no less—or grimy travel through the desert for gods know how long to see a man who left me for dead? Hard choice.”

  “A few weeks under the stars, just like old times.” Will smiled. “Come on.”

  She sighed. “The nights get cold out there in the desert, Will.”

  Will raised a hand and fire flickered across it. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  Her eyes fell to his hand and a knowing smirk crossed her face. Will saw an unnerving darkness behind her eyes, poorly masked by a quick, bawdy laugh. She took his hand and kissed it. “You’d better.”

  26

  Burning Bright

  The guards followed Will all the way to the Street. They watched him enter before finally dispersing. Shifter, however, lingered. The commander approached Will just before he passed through the curtains into the bar beyond.

  “Lightborne,” the hawk-faced man said. “A moment.”

  That’s new. Shifter had never expressed any interest in Will’s movements before. “Yes, Commander?”

  “You are certain that you faced Dorian Valmont in Cascania?”

  Will gave him a disdainful look. “Trust me, it was him.” The commander’s expression darkened, though Will’s manner did not seem to be what caused it. His interest piqued, Will took a step away from the curtains. “Why?”

  “Scouts’ reports conflict with that location.”

  “Wait, you’ve had eyes on him in Aeril? Since I returned?”