The Deliverer

by Sharon Hinck

  I fingered the drawstring trousers and nubby sweater, but made no move toward the sleeping nook.

  When I didn’t obey, his eyes narrowed and he stretched to his feet. Dark whiskers shadowed his jaw. The scar over his eyebrow whitened as some angry emotion coursed through him.

  I braced myself for a violent outburst.

  Instead, he rubbed his shoulder and sighed. “We’ll have to hide here until first light. I think I can get us out of the city then. But you can’t travel like that.” His gaze swept over my sheer shrine tunic and then he quickly looked away.

  I felt vulnerable, exposed. A flush burned my skin, and I clutched the bundle of clothes, but still couldn’t move.

  “Messengers of the One,” he muttered. “Linette, I’m helping you.”

  Not one cell in my body trusted him. “Then give me back my arm band.” I’d never had it off for this long. I already felt weak, short of breath. How long before death claimed me?

  His eyes hardened and he pulled the dented band from his pocket. “The deal is that you do what I ask.”

  Bezreth’s words came back to me, hissing through my mind. “Do whatever he asks.” My stomach muscles clenched, and I pressed against the door, trembling.

  Raw pain tightened his features. He stepped closer. “Linette, did they . . . did you . . . I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. I’d go back and kill them all if I could, but we have to get out of Hazor.”

  When I still didn’t move, he reached for me. But instead of shaking me, or shoving me, he held me in an awkward hug. “I won’t hurt you.” He breathed the words against my face.

  Was this his reassurance that he’d return my armband and provide me with new drug patches? The odd shakiness eased and my breathing slowed. The man’s shirt smelled of finely woven caradoc wool and clavo and clean sweat. Familiar and soothing.

  Moving stiffly, as if unused to being gentle, he coaxed me across the room. “Go ahead and change. Please.”

  I wasn’t eager for his impatient and angry side to reemerge, so I stepped into the back alcove and pulled the curtain shut.

  Soon I heard him shifting packs and checking weapons. I quickly slipped on the comfortable trousers and removed the shrine tunic. While I was pulling the sweater over my head, I heard the outside door slide open. Maybe he was leaving. I held my breath, then peered around the curtain.

  A boy about Ria’s age stood in quiet conversation with the general.

  “Yes, I got her out. But she’s not herself. She didn’t even know me.”

  The boy shook his head. “How’d you get her to come with you?”

  “I was . . . convincing.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “Nolan, is she going to be all right?”

  The boy unslung a large cloth bag from his shoulder and handed it to the man. “Hard to say. I’ve heard the shrine girls have no memory before the day they enter—” He looked past the man and noticed me. “Oh. How are you?”

  I pushed aside the curtain and took a hesitant step into the room. “Do you know me?”

  “Your name is Linette. You’re a songkeeper. You’re terrible at the long-whistle and usually burn the stew and can’t braid your hair very well. I helped you once, remember?” Large eyes peered at me from under dark bangs.

  If this boy was right, I’d been about as useless in my early life as I had been in the shrine. I strained for something familiar but met a wall as blank and unyielding as the one in the alley. “He called you Nolan.”

  The boy grinned. “That’s right. And he’s Kieran. My father.”

  I relaxed a little. My captor wouldn’t hurt me in front of his son, would he?

  “So did you hear the music?” he asked.

  “Music?”

  Nolan nodded. “I asked the messengers to play outside the shrine at first light. They took turns. They were really worried. We thought it would let you know that help was coming.”

  Gratitude thickened in my throat.

  Kieran tousled his son’s hair. “It was a great plan.” He watched me for a moment and then smiled at the boy. “I think she likes you.”

  “I’m likeable.” Nolan ducked under his father’s hand and pulled away.

  Kieran laughed, and the surprising sound distracted me from my precarious situation. Until his eyes focused on me again.

  “Get some sleep.” He gestured toward the alcove.

  Desperation gave me the strength to face him. “Give me my drug patch.”

  Nolan’s mouth opened and he stared at me, then back at his father.

  Kieran rubbed his forehead. A vein throbbed along his temple. “Nolan, we’ll need some more food.”

  “But I—”

  “Now.”

  The boy sent an uneasy glance my way. Then he pulled the door open and ducked out.

  Out. Where I needed to be. Could I find my way back to the shrine? In my soft leather shoes, I slipped lightly along the far wall of the room and toward the door.

  Kieran was faster. He reached the door before I did and hit the lever to seal us in.

  I faced him. “You promised. Give me the armband.” If I didn’t stand up to him, I might be dead before morning. Even if he returned it to me, I’d need a refill patch soon.

  “Linette,” he said like a man barely holding onto his last thread of patience. “You aren’t going to die.”

  So he had lied. He wasn’t going to return my armband. My jaw hardened. “Is this how little your word means to you?”

  He squinted at me. “Are you sure you don’t remember who you are?”

  I blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind.” He smiled and all the hard planes of his face softened. “You just sounded a lot like yourself there.” The smile faded. “You trusted me once. At least I think you did.”

  He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, almost languid. “Ask yourself. What do you remember?”

  Pain pulsed along my forehead. I pressed the heels of my hands against the ache. “Don’t change the subject. You’re trying to distract me.”

  “Maybe. Partly.” He waited.

  Partly? But he also wanted me to remember. At least we had that goal in common.

  I shook my head. “It’s gone. I can’t remember.” My words sounded small.

  He continued to slouch against the wall, blocking my exit. I’d felt safer with Nolan as a buffer. “Why did you send Nolan away?”

  “You and I were heading for a . . . disagreement. He doesn’t need to see that.”

  The small room closed in further. Tiredness made me waver on my feet, reminding me again that I’d been without the drugs for too long.

  “Please let me go,” I whispered.

  A weary shadow settled on his face. He pushed away from the wall, guided me to one of the chairs, then pulled up a chair across from me. “Linette, I can’t do that. You don’t belong here. I’ve got to get you back to Braide Wood.”

  “How can you do that if I’m dead?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. You don’t want to trust me. But what if you can’t trust Bezreth, either? She stole your memories from you—your very identity. Did it occur to you that she lied as well?”

  I struggled to focus. “Are you positive I can survive without the shrine band?”

  “I promise I’ll get you to the healers in Braide Wood.”

  Not the answer I needed. “So you don’t really know.”

  “I know we’ll all die if we don’t get out of Sidian.” Matter-of-fact. Uncompromising. And something else hummed in his low voice . . . a deep current of discouragement.

  How was it that I could sense his inner pain? And why did that stir compassion in me? My resolve faltered. He was right.

  I stood with as much dignity as I could muster. “Good night, then.” I retreate
d to the alcove room and pulled the curtain closed.

  When unfamiliar voices crept into my dreams, I stirred and then sat up quickly on my pallet.

  “Let her sleep a little longer. She’ll need her strength.” The low tone was tight, pragmatic. The soldier named Kieran.

  “What if she won’t come with us? She seemed really confused,” said a younger voice but similar in timbre. Nolan.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes.” Kieran’s flat words sent a cold twist through my stomach.

  I heard Nolan stirring, moving closer to his father. “You’re blaming yourself. It’s not your fault.”

  “Don’t,” Kieran bit out. “I caused this. Bezreth took her because of me.”

  I chewed on my lip. So he’d been the one that sent me to the shrine-gods and the dark cells and Bezreth’s control. And now he planned to drag me out of the city to die.

  “Did she remember anything last night?” That was Nolan’s voice, cracking on a few words.

  “I don’t think so. Maybe when the drugs wear off.”

  The drugs. I grasped my wrist. My lifeline was still gone. But I’d at least survived the night. I tested my memory. Kieran had stolen my armband. Before that I’d run from him down shadowy Sidian streets. Before that he had dragged me from the shrine and out of the palace. Before that were endless days in the rooms below the shrine. Before that . . .

  … a grey, empty fog.

  Bezreth must have been right. My current life began at the shrine. Everything before that was gone. And that meant she was likely right about the drug patches. I had to convince Kieran to give me back the armband.

  “What if it’s true?” Nolan’s quiet question echoed my own. “You aren’t going to let her die.”

  I held my breath. Kieran’s answer was an impatient growl. The outer door slid open and slammed closed. Sweat beaded on my face. I brushed it away and realized my hand was trembling.

  “He’s gone,” Nolan called softly.

  I peered around the alcove curtain and smiled uncertainly at the boy. I had no more reason to trust him than his father, but he was at least less frightening.

  “How are you feeling?” the boy asked.

  As I stepped into the common room, my knees wobbled. “Fine. Where’s my armband?”

  Nolan glanced toward the door. Avoiding my gaze? “He’s getting you more patches.” Then he stepped closer and slowly moved his hand toward my face. When I didn’t flinch away, he touched my forehead. “Fever.” Concern darkened his eyes. “How good are the healers at Braide Wood?”

  Braide Wood? The name felt as if it should be familiar. I squeezed my eyes closed and rubbed my forehead. Waiting for the name to conjure a picture, I tested the words again but found only a blurry wall.

  Nolan sighed. “Sorry. Do you remember anything?” The gentle demeanor from the gangly teen endeared him to me.

  “The music. You told your friends to play music.”

  Youthful pride filled his chest, and his eyes watched me eagerly. “Did you hear it? I wanted you to know you weren’t alone. Did it help?”

  “Yes. I heard. Thank you.” Moisture in my eyes threatened to spill over, and I blinked a few times. “It helped me to remember that I didn’t want to belong to the shrine-gods.”

  But I was still dependent on Bezreth for my survival. If I went back to the shrine, would she understand that I hadn’t left of my own choice? Would she provide me with the drug patches I needed? Perhaps she’d give me enough so I could leave, since it had been so obvious that I didn’t belong.

  Nolan was still watching me. “What else do you remember?”

  I took a few wavering steps toward the door. “Just that I need to go back.”

  The boy dodged quickly in front of me again. “I can’t let you leave.”

  I sized him up. Wiry, but strong. At least stronger than I felt this morning. A sword rested beside a pack along the wall, but I couldn’t imagine threatening him with that.

  “Linette, we’re on your side. Trust us.”

  Then why did he look so uncertain, so worried? I wavered.

  He pointed to a small open door at the back of the common room. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up? We’ll be leaving soon. I’ll find you something to eat.”

  I glanced around the room again, then surrendered to the inevitable. I couldn’t attack him. I’d wait for another chance to get away. Meanwhile, I needed to save my strength.

  After using the tiny washroom, I lingered to smooth my braids and splash cool water on my face. Last night I’d felt this same panic. Alone, trapped, in danger. And the reflex that sprang upward in me at that moment had been to talk to the One. So far, I had survived. Holy One, You’ve rescued me from the shrine-gods, rescue me now from these strangers.

  I could hear Nolan moving around. The outer door slid open and quickly closed. Low voices murmured. After a deep breath, I stepped back into the common room.

  Kieran tugged at a tie on his breastplate, then tossed the piece of armor to the floor. “That disguise won’t work any longer.”

  Nolan helped him take off his gauntlets. “Should we wait until tonight?”

  “No. The longer we wait, the more chance that they’ll find us.”

  I rested one hand against the wall. “Disguise? You aren’t really a general?”

  Kieran’s gaze snapped toward me. He studied me and frowned. “You don’t look good.”

  Master of the obvious. “Maybe because you stole my armband? I tried to tell you—”

  “We have to leave. Now.” He grabbed a pack and tossed it to his son.

  Nolan scurried to gather a blanket and made straight for the door. Kieran strode across the room and reached past me. I scooted aside, and he thrust a hooded cloak into my hands. “Put this on.”

  When I didn’t move, he unearthed the armband from his tunic pocket and held it in front of me. “I tracked down a supply of the drug patches, and believe me, it wasn’t easy.”

  I grabbed for it, but he pulled his hand back. “First make me a promise. It won’t be easy getting out of the city. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to duck and not make a sound, you do it. Understand?”

  “Yes, yes.” I was happy to put some distance between myself and the shrine, as long as I had the drugs to keep me alive. I could always choose a moment to escape Kieran later.

  The scar near his eye twitched. “Can I trust you?”

  “You’re worried about my word? When you’ve done nothing but lie to me?”

  His frown deepened. “No time to argue about it right now.” He handed me the band, still dented from rough handling. There was a new drug-patch lining it, and I quickly pressed it around my forearm, then wrapped the cloak around my shoulders.

  “The hood,” he barked.

  I didn’t move fast enough for him, and he pulled up the hood to cover my head and shadow my face. He pushed a few of my stray braids back and tucked them under the fabric, his hand slowing for just a second. Then he turned away abruptly, grabbed up his sword and joined Nolan at the door. “Is it clear?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Let’s go.”

  Nolan slipped outside, and I hurried to the door as well, to show Kieran that I was cooperating. Still, he grabbed my arm before letting me pass. “I can still take that from you if you try anything,” he hissed. “Understand?”

  I swallowed, my throat raw and sore. But freedom waited for me outside the door—freedom of a sort. “I understand.” Yanking hard, I freed my arm and followed Nolan down the alley, not bothering to look back.

  Chapter

  15

  Linette

  The early morning passed in a blur of frantic running, confusing turns, and deserted back alleys. True to my word, I followed Kieran’s directions, though I struggled to keep up with him and Nolan. Their tension infected me,
setting off the pounding pulse of danger in my head. I saw no familiar landmarks, nothing that jarred my memory. That, plus the fever that continued to build hot and dry inside my skin, made the journey a bewildering nightmare. But no matter how confused I felt, there was no mistaking the sense of threat.

  My steps became an uneven hobble, but I kept going. Finally, Kieran signaled for us to stop, and I slumped against the huge dark wall he’d led us toward. A short man with small eyes and a face like a rizzid stepped from an outcropping. Nolan handed him a bag, and the man pulled out a fistful of magchips, counted them, and beckoned us forward. In moments we edged through a hidden door and faced a rocky plain with the city at our back. Kieran kept moving, edging along the wall until we reached a sharp angle.

  “Not that way.” Nolan tugged his father’s sleeve. “We’ll be seen.”

  “I need to get closer to the main gate.”

  “Why?” the boy protested.

  “Stay low.” Kieran gestured to us both, ignoring his son’s question.

  He could at least explain where he was leading us. Dragging us all over without even bothering to—

  My irritation fled as we rounded the corner.

  A stone’s throw away, heavily armored soldiers formed rows to welcome an arriving delegation of men and women in rough-woven clothes. With no regard for Nolan’s hissed objections, Kieran glided toward a cluster of boulders, and we followed, ducking low to remain hidden.

  I peered through a crevice, noticing an emblem on the tunics, a pattern of rolling hills. Crouched beside me, Kieran muttered a curse. “What is Corros clan doing here?”

  I hoped he wasn’t expecting an answer from me.

  His head swung back as he scanned the walls then checked our surroundings again. “Wait here.”

  He was gone before either Nolan or I could argue.

  I turned, riveted, to watch the entourage and Kieran’s cautious approach. He ran lightly to a small grove of trees and disappeared from view. “Is he completely insane?” I whispered.