“No,” he whispered, wrenching up to his knees. “Whythe.”
He bellowed, but all else was quiet. He was alone.
“No…”
Peer punched at the hardwood floor, and a sharp pain raced up his arm. He hung his head. It seemed impossible that he should have been feeling so blissful mere moments ago. Whythe had kissed his cheek, and then—
How could such a horrible thing have occurred in such a short space of time?
And that it should’ve been Vendra to take him seemed almost cruel. He had shown her mercy, because he had believed that his dead friend would have wished it.
Peer hung his head—cursing her, cursing himself, cursing Adearre.
Not him, was the chant of his heart. Anyone else; me. But not him.
Peer pushed himself to his feet, and effortlessly split his mind. He stared at his Mearre, his mirror-self. Bastard, he accused, striking out at the oafish man before him. Failure. Idiot.
He felt the Aeght a Seve’s presence, and threw himself into it. The library fell away, and he arrived in that familiar place, with grass beneath his feet. He turned his back to the tree at the center and sprinted to the ring of stone—the sheer shelf that separated him from an additional gift. One that could help him save his spirit’s mate.
Peer charged and leapt. He crashed bodily into unyielding rock. He picked himself up and launched at the stone wall once more, feeling like a wave bashing against a towering precipice.
He screwed his eyes shut. He needed to sacrifice the ability to have children—biological children. The trouble was, he had no desire to make a child with a woman. And he could not sacrifice something he did not truly want.
Peer gritted his teeth and tried to imagine it: his son or daughter—born by whom? He fleetingly pictured Bray, the woman he loved most in the world, but he could not hold onto that image. Impregnate a woman while knowing he could be no true partner for her? It was a thing he would never do. He could not fool himself into wanting it.
Peer pressed his forehead into the grass and felt hot tears building at the back of his eyes. He could not do it. Not even for Whythe. He had watched Yarrow do this very thing for Bray. It’s not fair.
He swayed back and tilted his head to the sky. He roared, “It’s not fair, blight it!” His voice echoed back to him, a parody.
He wrenched himself out of the Aeght a Seve, feeling betrayed by the Spirits themselves. They had designed an entire system of supernatural wonder that he could never access. It was a new understanding that left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The moment he returned to the library, he winced at the pain in his hand. He released his fist and stretched his fingers. He focused on steadying his breathing.
He could not save Whythe in this way, so he would need to find another.
Distantly, he heard someone scream. Vendra, he thought, as he thrust himself to his feet and barreled out the library door into a cold, black night. A throng of people had gathered outside the nearest dormitory. Peer sprinted that way, pushing through the people to see what had caused the commotion. Then he froze.
A young Elevated woman lay dead in the lane, arms spread as if seeking an embrace. Her expression appeared not just pained, but hurt—betrayed. The mark on her neck caught the moonlight. Peer bowed his head and backed away.
“Peer?” a solemn voice called.
Su-Hwan emerged from the crowd. The sight of her impassive face calmed some of the turmoil in Peer’s chest.
“What has happened?” she asked.
“Vendra came—she took Whythe.” He flexed his fist and pain shot from his knuckle. “He’s gone.”
“That’s terrible.” Su-Hwan reached for his hand with her own small, child-like fingers. “But Quade will want to use him. He will not kill him.”
Peer nodded, trying to bring himself to believe this. But Quade had sent Chisanta to kill Su-Hwan, not capture her. And her gift was nearly the same as Whythe’s.
Seeming to read this concern in his eyes, she shook her head. “I resisted Quade and left. He will view me as the riskier of the two, but he will want this ability in his arsenal. Which is why you must go to the palace now.”
“Think Ko-Jin might know how to get him back?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “But I suspect taking Whythe is the beginning of a larger plan. He wanted to protect himself before making his next move. The general will need to know.”
“You’re right,” Peer said. It had not occurred to him. In his own mind, Whythe was the most important person, but perhaps Quade wanted someone else more. Someone whose gift would need to be removed. “I’ll go now.”
“Do you want me to come along?”
He was tempted to say yes, but he shook his head instead. “Get some sleep and come find me in the mornin’. But switch to a different bed and surround yourself with other people, yeah?” His expression turned stern. “I can’t be losin’ you too.”
“I will. Do not worry about me.”
She released his hand and turned away. Peer spun on the spot and set off. He walked and then ran and then sprinted, up the main courtyard and through the university entrance.
He barreled on, lungs burning and thighs aching, until the palace loomed above him. Ko-Jin will know what to do, he thought. He hoped.
Chapter Fourteen
Jo-Kwan’s boyish face grinned back at her. “Keep up.”
“I’m tired,” Chae-Na whined.
They were climbing up a sheer cliff, and her hands chafed against the vine. Beyond her brother, she could discern the shapes of her father and mother higher up. The sun blazed overhead, so she couldn’t see them properly—they were like shadows. Her girl’s shoes couldn’t find purchase on the smooth stone.
“Jo-Kwan,” she called out, because he was moving further off.
It came to her in the way it sometimes did; the certain knowledge that she was dreaming. It was an almost chokingly sad realization.
“Brother,” she called out, wanting to stay in this fantasy just a little longer. “Come back and help me.”
He did, of course. Even in a dream, he could do no less. She watched him slip back down the vine, and she tried to brace against the cliff.
“Climb on my back,” he said. He seemed to swivel between a youthful version of himself and the grown man he had so recently been.
“I’m frightened.”
“Why?” he asked. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You can’t fall if you never let go.”
There was a sharp, loud sound and Chae-Na experienced the nauseating shock of a plunge into blackness, of her stomach floating up within her body.
She jerked to full wakefulness and grasped at her sheets. She stared wide-eyed around the room, willing herself to see through the darkness. She had been dreaming, she knew, but she had the strong sense that the sound which had roused her had been real.
“Hello?” she called out. “Guard?”
There were always two stationed just outside her door. Ko-Jin had wanted to allow one within the room as well, but she had refused. Fool.
“Hello?”
There came no answer. She sat, sheets twisted around her legs, trying to decide what to do. Should she bolt?
The more seconds that passed, the more certain she grew that she was not alone. She had that creeping sensation of being watched. Her heart rate would not slow.
Think, she instructed herself. No doubt this person expected her to run for the door. Her closet, in the other direction, had been built to lock from inside for just such an occasion as this. If she could only manage to get within and secure the latch…
No, she reminded herself. The sound had certainly been the pop of teleportation. A door would not thwart him. Her bow was perched above her bookshelf, however. And the knife Ko-Jin had gifted her was on her dressing table.
“Is it your intention to kill me?” she asked the darkness. She hoped that she sounded brave. She disentangled herself from her blankets and inched to the edge of the bed.
“Certainly not,” came the answer, in a voice so charming it sent a wash of pleasure through her. Her fear redoubled.
“It is not a polite hour for calling.”
“You will have to forgive my impropriety.” He stepped into the moonlight, his sharp nose and pale face just discernible. Quade stood only paces from her bed. She pushed herself away, to the other side of the mattress. She knew that she needed to prevent him from touching her at all cost.
Her bare feet hit the cold ground, and she tugged the sheet free from her bed and shrouded herself in it. If he could not achieve skin-to-skin contact, he could not take her away with him.
“Guard?” she called again, louder. But she knew that Quade would not have ignored such an obvious detail. She hoped the men outside her door were not dead.
“I admit, I am hurt, Princess. I expected a more enthusiastic reception. When I have come all this way to save you from a most unappealing betrothal.”
Dread leaked solid as lead into her stomach. She inched towards the wall, shuffling her feet. She wondered how well he could see. She detected the faint sound of his shoes moving across the floorboards, and she sprinted, running as fast as her legs would carry her, to her dressing table. She was nearly there when a powerful figure collided with her. She kicked free of his grasp, pulling herself from the sheet and leaving it alone in his hands. Her hip jammed painfully against the side of the table, and she gritted her teeth. Her hand grasped the hilt of her stiletto. She spun around to face him, blade extended in a quavering fist.
He tossed the empty sheet aside and stepped close. Eyeing the slim blade, he smiled. He was beautiful. And terrifying.
She slashed the space between them. “Stay back.”
Mentally, she reviewed everything Ko-Jin had taught her. Don’t allow your arm to extend far in either direction. Don’t strike until you’re certain you’ll wound.
Quade licked a lip, slowly, his dark eyes on her face. “I appreciate your pluck, darling, but surely you can see the futility.”
He stepped closer, and she realized for the first time just how tall he was. She seemed to shrink beneath his gaze. He was correct—she could neither run nor hide. Her only hope was in killing him.
“Why not give me the blade, darling?” he said in a humming voice that shivered through her. An insane desire to yield pierced her mind. Her hand quivered.
He stepped closer still, so near she could sense the warmth of him. She plunged her knife forward, aiming for his abdomen. He stepped to the side, but not quickly enough. The blade grazed along his stomach, slicing through his shirt. He hissed. She smelt blood. She tried to rear back, but he reached out more swiftly than seemed possible, snagging her bare wrist in his firm grasp.
No, was all she could think, before her bedroom was ripped away. She spun in a moment of horrifying blackness, with only Quade’s crushing fingers to ground her. And then, as suddenly as she had disappeared, she found herself thrown into warm sand. She screwed her eyes closed against the grit. The moderate warmth that stole around her bare arms and feet told her, with certainty, that they were no longer in Accord. No longer in Daland.
She pushed herself up to her knees. Quade towered over her. He glared down with black eyes, his hand pressed to his bleeding stomach. When she met his eye, his anger shifted into something else. He glanced down at his wound, and then back to her. He bared his teeth.
“I think perhaps we are well-suited for marriage.”
He reached for her, and she scuttled back, too slow. He cupped a hand around her neck, so that his thumb pressed against her windpipe. “You’re lovelier than I’d known.”
She jammed her fingers in her ears and clamped her eyes shut, trying to block him out. He grabbed her wrist and wrenched it away. She turned into him until her mouth hit his arm, and bit down. She felt the skin break beneath her teeth. He growled, and the hands of others pulled her back by the hair. Someone secured her arms behind her. She was shoved to the ground.
Quade inspected the bite mark on his arm. He knelt down beside her and set his mouth right to her ear. “You cannot resist, darling.” He gently brushed her hair aside, and a shiver of pleasure ran over her skin. “Oh, how you will suffer.”
Chae-Na shut him out. She turned her head away. She aimed to fill her mind with anything that might protect her from Quade’s invasion. Perhaps, if her mind were full, there would be no room for outside influence. The grief at losing her brother, always just beneath the surface in the weeks since his death, seemed then, to her, a useful tool. It was a feeling so strong and all-encompassing, that it might shield her will from Quade, if anything could.
She imagined Jo-Kwan’s face as he lay in his coffin. She brought to mind the sound of his laugh. She dreamed up an impossible future for him—giving him Bray for a wife, because he had so liked her—and envisioned what his children might have looked like. And then she pictured him in his coffin again. She called to mind just who had killed him.
Tears ran fast down her cheeks, hot with rage. She could hear Quade laughing. She hoped he perceived this breakdown as evidence of weakness. Let him be wrong.
She continued to think of her brother. And then she recalled the cryptic thing he had said in her dream. You cannot fall if you never let go.
I shall try, she thought. I will.
Ko-Jin lowered himself onto the edge of Chae-Na’s vacant bed. Beyond the window, the first blush of dawn had stolen some of the shadow from the room. His gaze roamed from the sheet sprawled across the floor to the spatter of blood. Hers?
He braced his elbows against his knees and let his head hang. There was something right in the feel of blood pooling in his skull. He gritted his teeth, blinking. Was there no member of this family he could save? Was he truly such a failure?
When the previous king had died, he had been near, but not near enough to help. When the queen had been killed, cradled in his arms, it had been truly his fault. For all of his training and supposed intelligence, he should have been able to save that woman. When Jo-Kwan had been murdered, he had been standing just outside the door, foolishly unaware. But this…
Chae-Na was not only his queen, she was the woman first in his heart. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he have been sleeping in his own bed, with her in his dreams, while Quade came to steal her away?
He should stand up, he knew. Ask questions—discover what had happened to the guards who should’ve been at her door. He should notify the appropriate people, like her odious fiancé. But, in that moment, his body had grown too heavy to lift.
And what hope was left to him? Quade would not ransom her; the only question was whether he meant to kill her or use her. The future had been painted black in a single evening.
Ko-Jin slumped backwards on the mattress. He stared up at the ceiling and wondered how often she had looked at that same patch of plaster. Whether he meant to kill her or use her… What use might Quade find for a stolen queen? He could think of only one answer, and if his mind were not so numb it might’ve sent him into a fury.
He heard the door creak open and someone enter with tentative steps, but he didn’t look up.
“Ko-Jin,” Fernie said. “Peer is still demanding to see you.”
“Not now.”
“I don’t think they can hold him much—”
A new set of footsteps slapped up the hallway, and the door knob banged against the wall.
“What the Blighter do you mean by not seein’ me?”
Ko-Jin hauled himself back to a sitting position. He turned wearily to Peer, whose rage seemed foreignly intense to his own stupefied mind. “What do you need, Peer? I’m a little busy.”
“Vendra and some teleporter took Whythe.”
“He’s the other one who can block gifts, right?” Ko-Jin pinched his eyes between forefinger and thumb. “Fantastic…”
Peer clenched and unclenched his fist a few times. “What’s the matter with you?” He looked like he wanted to hit something. His nos
trils flared, and there was a fire in his eyes that Ko-Jin had never seen before. Peer made an obvious effort to calm himself, looking around him. His gaze latched onto the blood. “What happened here?”
“Quade’s taken Chae-Na,” Fernie answered. “Sometime in the night.” The lad sniffed, and turned away to collect himself.
“Spirits,” Peer swore. He began to pace. “So what are we gonna do?”
“Do?” Ko-Jin asked. “What can we do? We don’t know where he’s taken them; we don’t know if they’re alive.”
Peer frowned at him. “Well, for starters, we can be finding out the answer to those two questions. Roldon’s Chiona friend’s back in the city, ain’t she?”
Ko-Jin nodded indifferently. “Trevva. I suppose she is.”
“Who are you?” Peer shouted at him.
Ko-Jin arched his brow, thinking this a stupid question. “General Sung Ko-Jin, at your service,” he said, laughing mirthlessly as he shook his head. General. What a joke.
He did not even see Peer’s fist until it connected with his face. The force of the blow caused him to roll clear off the bed. He hopped back to his feet, annoyed. “What the Blighter was that for?”
“For acting like a useless idiot all the sudden, when I need the other guy—the real Ko-Jin.” His blue eyes blazed, and his hand was still fisted. “I need the bloke with the muscles and plans. Because I aim to get my man back, and who else is gonna help me?”
Ko-Jin probed at his sore jaw. “How? So we can find out where he is—so what? He’ll be waiting for us. Clearly that’s why he took your Whythe first. I show up there, and I’m a useless cripple all over again.”
Peer looked as if he would dearly like to hit him a second time. But he wisely restrained himself, and responded with a show of calm, “After we’ve found ‘em, well, it’ll be a game of chess, won’t it? Just got to get the right pieces in the right squares. He’s got Whythe, we’ve got Su-Hwan.”
Ko-Jin’s sluggishness started to ebb. He blinked. “And we’ve got most of the Elevated. The girl who freezes people—”
Lamentation of the Marked (The Marked Series Book 3) Page 23