by Keri Arthur
Which meant there very definitely could be others out there... so why hadn’t anyone seen them? Drakkons weren’t something you could hide very easily—or at least the full-size ones weren’t.
“We actually think the coruscations are a combination of both,” Kaiden said. “The larger one remains in West Laminium, but a lake now sits under it.”
Meaning the coruscations hadn’t really moved since we’d attacked them—and the lake could explain my wet uniform. “I take it this lake formed as the smaller coruscation melted?”
He nodded. “If there had been kin and drakkon trapped inside, they would have been spotted floating on top of the water. But there’ve been no such sightings.”
“Would there be though, given the area is controlled by Mareritt?”
Once again his smile held little humor. “They may control the area, but we patrol it, under various guises. The coruscations have caused enough grief—we have no option but to keep eyes on the one that remains.”
So if no other drakkons or kin had appeared as the smaller coruscation melted, what had happened to them?
Was it possible, perhaps, that the freezing had not only included motion but also flesh? Had we simply been frozen—become nothing more than ice within ice—and then left to melt away along with the spheres?
It was an idea that filled me with utter horror—and one I refused to believe. After all, if that were the case, why was I here?
And given I was, surely that meant it was possible for everyone else to have survived as well.
Kaiden shrugged. “If the reader can uncover what has happened to you, then maybe we’ll find out what happened to the others.”
If there were others. The unspoken words seemed to hover in the air.
I took another drink. Despite its heat, it didn’t do much to warm the chill gathering within. The fact was, if the ice in my mind was part of the magic that had consumed both kin and drakkon whole, then what were the chances of a reader getting past it?
And what if that magic was somehow still active? It was possible, given a coruscation still survived. What if in trying to get past it, she somehow triggered it?
I tried to ignore the pulse of foreboding and said, “Once she does the reading, I’ll need to get to West Laminium. If you could at least give me a map of the areas I’ll have to avoid—”
“Red, if you are who you say you are, do you really think I’m going to let you go anywhere without guidance—specifically, my guidance?” His tone held the slightest hint of amusement, despite the seriousness in his eyes. “If there are other remnants of the old graces and kin in that area, we need to get to them, and fast.”
“On that we at least agree.” But given I’d been picked up by a Mareritt patrol, what were the odds of any others escaping such a fate? I had to get to the coruscation, had to find out what had happened to my sister—not only because she might be the only family I had left, but because her military nous might be the difference between saving Arleeon and losing it. “And I guess you are a better option than a map. At least you can hold a conversation—when you’re not coming over all grumpy, that is.”
He snorted softly and drained his cup. “We’d best grab some sleep, because no matter what the outcome tomorrow, we have a long day ahead of us. Unfortunately, there’s only the one bed, so I’ll bunk down—”
“I’m not about to jump the bones of someone who doesn’t fully trust me,” I said mildly.
He raised a dark eyebrow, amusement evident. “Does that mean you will jump me once I do?”
I pursed my lips and let my gaze sweep across his shoulders and chest. They were, it had to be said, perfectly proportioned. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I tend to be rather choosy about my partners, and you, warrior, have not fully proven your worth as yet.”
The amusement got stronger. “I hauled your butt out of Break Point Pass and gave way to your insane desire to free that drakkon. I think that speaks volumes about my character.”
“And I think it speaks more to the fact that A, you had no other choice, and B, you didn’t want to lose someone who’d revealed she had a very handy weapon at her fingertips.”
“Also possible.” He grinned and rose. “I apologize in advance for any untoward and unintended attention you might get from certain portions of my body during the night.”
“Apology accepted. But if you snore, expect to find yourself on the floor.”
He laughed, a warm, rich sound that stirred the embers of desire. “I’ll go have a shower and give you a little privacy to get into bed.”
“Privacy isn’t necessary, but if I’m sharing a bed with you, clean-smelling skin is.”
He laughed again and headed into the bathroom. I finished the shamoke and then headed into the bedroom, stripping off before climbing into the bed. He joined me ten minutes later, his body warm and the heady scent of his masculinity filling my nostrils. But desire had little hope against the tide of weariness.
Thankfully, the man didn’t snore.
I did wake at some point during the night to find his body tucked close and the heat of his erection pressing against my buttocks. But, stranger or no, I didn’t really mind. If nothing else, it proved the man wasn’t made of ice.
And that, no matter what had happened to me, neither was I.
Lindale was a short, stout woman with a heavily lined face and a mane of hair that ran like a silver waterfall down her back.
She motioned me to sit at the table, then claimed the seat opposite. Her gaze was wary, no doubt due to the fact that I looked like a half-blood. “You know how this works?”
I nodded. “You take my hand and invade my mind.”
She made a sharp clucking sound. “Invade is such a crude word for what we do.”
“But still the truth.”
She didn’t refute it. “You just need to relax. You’ll feel a slight pressure within your thoughts and memories—that’ll be me. It shouldn’t hurt or cause you any sort of distress, but if does, squeeze my fingers immediately.”
I nodded again. While I hadn’t been the subject of a reading before now, I knew well enough how they worked. I’d seen enough Mareritt captives being read over the years, although they’d never reacted well to the process. Of course, that was no doubt due to the fact the readers had never tried to take it easy on them.
Lindale held out her hands. I placed mine in hers and watched her face. For several seconds, nothing happened; then, gradually, awareness left her brown eyes. A heartbeat later, the pressure began. Gently at first, then with increasing force.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on not reacting. But it was a rather weird sensation, having someone else’s mind in mine, knowing she was rifling through my thoughts and memories and completely unable to do anything about it.
The pressure intensified. My head began to ache, and heat flared within, a force determined to protect. I held it at bay, knowing from watching Mareritt interrogations that forcing her out before she was ready could have disastrous consequences for us both.
Deeper still she dove, until she finally hit the ice. She didn’t break it. Didn’t get past it. She never got the chance. At her first touch, energy surged; that energy wasn’t my fires, but something else. Something that was cold, dark, and old.
It exploded through me, through her, tearing her mind from mine and blasting us apart.
I tumbled backward and hit the floor hard. Breath whooshed from my lungs, and for several minutes, I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I could barely even breathe. Everything was black. Everything was silent. Everything except the vicious drumbeat echoing through my brain.
Fear surged, and fire flickered across my fingertips, a heat I felt rather than saw. I clenched my fist, pushed down the fear, and concentrated on my breathing rather than panicking over what that explosion might mean.
Gradually, the blackness cleared, and the ache in my head retreated. But the ice remained. Untouched. Unaltered.
Terrifying.
I
swallowed to ease the dryness in my throat and forced my eyes open. Kaiden was on the other side of the table, kneeling beside Lindale.
“Is she all right?” I croaked.
His head snapped around. Distrust and anger gleamed in his blue eyes. “Why in the wind’s name did you attack her like that? I thought you wanted answers?”
“I do, but—”
“Then why blast her away? What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing!” I sucked in a breath in a vague effort to calm down. “I’m not sure what happened, but that blast wasn’t me, Kaiden. You have to believe that.”
He stared at me for several seconds, then rose, got a blanket from the bed, and wrapped it around Lindale. His disbelief hung heavily in the air, and I couldn’t really blame him. In his shoes, I’d be wary of me, too.
I sucked in another breath, then pushed upright and hugged my knees close. Fear continued to pound through me, as rapid as the beat of my heart. But I didn’t want to think about what had happened—or what it might mean.
Lindale’s face was pale, and both the tip of her nose and the tops of her ears were red—it very much looked like she’d been frostbitten. Ice magic, a voice inside whispered. Coruscation magic. I shivered despite the fires that raged inside.
After a few more seconds, her eyes flickered open and she groaned softly. “It feels like I’ve been hit by a ton of ice.”
Ice, not fire. Another indicator the surge had been magical and icy in nature.
“You were torn from Red’s mind. Keep still until I can get a medic—”
“I don’t need a medic. I’m fine, if cold. Help me up.”
Somewhat reluctantly, he did. Lindale studied me, her gaze an odd mix of uncertainty, distrust, and hope. “Do you remember what happened?”
“You tried to probe the ice.”
“That ice is some form of magic—but old magic, not new.”
“Meaning what?” Kaiden’s question was sharp. Terse.
“It means that while there’s no sign of mental interference and no indication of false memories, a portion of her brain is locked behind a wall of ice-based magic.” She ran a somewhat shaky hand through her long hair, her fingertips as red as her nose. “By all accounts, she is who she says she is; two hundred years ago, she was part of the force that flew into the coruscations. There is no memory after that—nothing until she wakes in the pod with you. Those memories may be locked behind the barrier; whether that is something we should be worried about or not, I can’t say.”
“Meaning she could be a Mareritt spy?”
Lindale hesitated. “It’s always a possibility, but personally, I doubt it. I’m not sure what that ice is or why it’s there, but the memories that do exist hold no falsehood.”
“Could the ice be part of whatever magic the coruscation was made out of?” I said.
“Possibly. It certainly has the taint of Mareritt magic.”
“So you’ve come across magically altered minds before?”
“Yes, but none of them had the feel of the magic that lives within you. It’s very old, and yet it remains active. Why is a question I can’t answer.” She hugged the blanket a little tighter around her body. “Kai, do you want me to make a report to your father?”
He nodded. “Let him know we’re headed back to the Talien farmlands.”
Lindale frowned. “Why there?”
“That’s where Red was found, so it makes sense to go back and check if any others have appeared.”
“I’ll pass it on, but I suspect your father won’t be pleased.”
“He never is.” It was flatly said and suggested there was a history of tension between father and son.
“Ah, well, you know I’m not one to comment on private family matters, but you both need to pull your heads in.”
Kaiden’s expression was somewhat wry. “So much for not commenting.”
She patted his arm. “Whatever you do next, be careful.”
Of me. Of what I might do. She didn’t actually say that, but she didn’t need to.
Once she’d left, I said, “For your own safety, it’s probably better if—”
“No.” It was sharply said. “Until we know the truth of what has happened to you, I’m going nowhere.”
“You heard what Lindale said—”
“Whatever magic lies in your mind doesn’t negate the fact that there’s no lie in what you do remember. You are who claim to be, and that fact raises the possibility that others might have also survived.” He moved into the kitchen. “That being the case, we continue on as planned.”
The determined note in his voice suggested there was no arguing with him. And really, I didn’t want to. For all my bluster about going on alone, I didn’t know enough about this time to move anywhere without running a huge risk of being caught.
And yet, a greater risk might lie within me.
“Kai, if the ice in my mind takes over, if I start acting strangely or become a threat...” I let the sentence trail off.
“Have no fear in that regard.” He glanced over, his smile oddly comforting. “But know also that I won’t act against you until I’m absolutely positive there is no other choice.”
“That could put your life—and others—at risk.”
“Perhaps. But acting rashly is what got us into this mess. I’m not about to repeat the mistakes of the past.”
Attacking the coruscations wasn’t a mistake, but there was little point in arguing. We would never see eye to eye on it simply because we viewed the attack from very different angles—and times. “Why did you lie to Lindale about where we’re headed?”
“For safety. We think at least some of our transmissions are being monitored, which could account for the number of missions that have gone wrong of late.”
Meaning if the Mareritt did go hunting for us in Talien, we’d at least have some breathing space. “If you were made aware of that possibility, why did the attack on the supply train proceed?”
“It wasn’t supposed to—my father had ordered us to stand down when we were advised of the possibility.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because there’s been a red fever outbreak in Esan and we desperately needed the medical supplies the train was supposedly carrying.”
I frowned. “Red fever usually only happens when the food or water has been contaminated.”
“Yes, and we believe it came from a shipment of infected food inadvertently brought in.” He grimaced. “By the time anyone realized what had happened, it was already too late. We’ve run out of drugs, and the healers can’t fix a bacterial infection.”
“You springing what was obviously a trap wouldn’t have helped anyone.”
“I thought the risk was worth it.” He half shrugged. “But at least we spotted them before it was too late.”
“For the majority,” I noted. “You were caught.”
“Deliberately. It gave the others time to escape.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a martyr.”
He walked back with a knot of bread, a thick slab of cheese, and a serrated knife. “I’m not, but it was my stubbornness that got those men into that situation. I had no choice but to get them out.”
He had plenty of other choices, but he’d chosen the most honorable, if foolish, one. A man after my own heart.
“Why didn’t the Mareritt kill you on the spot, then?”
“They were probably taking me back to either Break Point or Frio for interrogation.”
Given I’d been chained to him, did that mean I was also being transported there for interrogation? Or was I simply being sent to the Tendra flesh markets with the other women—an action that suggested they didn’t know what I was, despite the fact I’d been wearing a kin uniform?
He grimaced and added, “Of course, I’m now hoping our people there don’t pay the price for our escape.”
“Wouldn’t Lindale—or whoever manages communications here—have been advised
if that were the case?”
He cut thick slices of bread and cheese. “Communications can be hit and miss—we’re using the old comms system in the occupied territories rather than tapping into the Mareritt’s. Maintenance, as you can imagine, is a trifle hard.”
I picked up a thick slab of bread and cheese; both were surprisingly fresh. “How long is it going to take us to get to West Laminium?”
“On the skid? Probably about five days.”
“We can’t swap it for something faster?”
“Anything faster will attract too much attention. It’s going to be dangerous enough moving from town to town.”
“So why don’t we just avoid towns?”
“Because we’ll have to leave a forwarding address when we leave Renton.”
I frowned. “Surely the Mareritt don’t have the time or manpower to monitor the movements of all Arleeon’s people?”
“They don’t, simply because most don’t travel.”
“Then how are you getting away with it?”
His smile flashed. “I’m listed as a bladesmith—it’s one of the few crafts that can move around with relative impunity, thanks to the scarcity of the skill amongst the Mareritt.”
My frown deepened. “Why, when from what I’ve seen, no one even uses knives or swords anymore?”
“They’re used for ceremonial purposes.” He paused, and something cold entered his expression. “And for executions.”
It made me wonder who he’d lost—someone close, that much was evident. If the anger tainting the air was anything to go by, he held himself at least partly responsible for that death. My gaze went to the scar on his neck, and I wondered if he’d gained it in the battle that had resulted in the execution of someone he cared about.