by Dana Davis
Larisa dug through her pack for healing herbs. After a moment, she moved to Jakon’s side and felt his pulse as he moaned. She twisted to look over her shoulder. “Patrice, bring Gail over here.”
The farm girl’s eyes widened and she shook her head as Patrice tugged on the leash.
Idiot child. Kepriah ignored the mud that clung to every part of her and stood over Jakon to watch her sister work. She could not heal him until Larisa extracted the sliver of poisonous vine, so she could only wait. Healing used the patient’s body to do most of the work and the cold spots had not repressed that magic. So far.
“Gail?” Larisa stood as Patrice pulled the girl close. “Look at me.” She took the girl’s face in her hands. “I need you to take one of Jakon’s knives and cut his trousers away from the injury. Do you understand?”
Gail gave a fearful glance to Kepriah and she offered her gentlest nod to the girl. “Do what Larisa tells you.” What are you up to, Larisa? Distraction?
Gail’s trembling hand reached to Jakon’s waist and drew a knife from his belt. Kepriah stiffened as the girl held up the knife, but Larisa instructed her where to cut and Gail obeyed. Once they exposed Jakon’s leg up to his hip, Kepriah saw the pink, bleeding flesh beneath his dark skin where the vine had plunged through. Darker black lines of poison had already begun to travel upward, toward his heart.
Kepriah did not like the look in Gail’s eyes and she ordered the girl to put Jakon’s knife back. Much to her surprise, the girl obeyed without protest and slipped the knife into the prone man’s belt sheath with little trouble.
“I have nothing to stop this type of bleeding.” Larisa’s moist blue eyes found Kepriah. “When I pull out the vine, you will have to heal him before he bleeds to death.” Larisa took in a deep breath and yanked the embedded vine out. The man moaned but did not come to full consciousness. Kepriah stared at the advancing black lines on his leg.
“Hurry, Kepriah.”
Moirai, please let this work. She leveled the scepter over Jakon’s leg, closed her eyes and stilled her mind. Nothing happened. She could not find magic.
“Kepriah?” Patrice said in a panicked voice. “He’s dying.”
She cursed under her breath as her own panic bubbled up. Quickly, she stilled her mind again and realized she could feel the tingle of magic nearby. She tossed the scepter a few feet from her and latched onto Jakon’s arms. “Help me.” She began to haul him farther from Blood River. He weighed more than she expected and she struggled through the muddy ground.
Her sisters and Gail all began to pull on the man, grabbing anywhere they could to avoid the wounded leg. In a matter of seconds, they had moved him several feet and Kepriah ordered them to stop. She held her hand out for the scepter and it smacked against her palm. Finally. She ignored Gail’s surprised gasp.
“Hurry, Kepriah,” Larisa said.
The scepter seemed to realize what she was doing and it grew lighter, almost hanging in the air by itself. She concentrated on the poison but nothing happened.
“Kepriah,” Larisa’s harsh tone cut through her thoughts. “You have to concentrate. The poison is moving.” She ripped Jakon’s tunic open at the laces. Black lines were now inches from his heart. He would not die instantly. The poison kept the victim alive long enough to quicken the heart so the blood pumped rapidly from the wound and into the sucking vines. With no vine in him now, Jakon would bleed out.
Doubt colored Kepriah’s thoughts. She had only healed scratches and small wounds up until now, nothing this dangerous. What would they do without Jakon? She had already lost Manry. Brave Manry, her mentor and savior. And Sorinieve. Kepriah rebuked herself for such thoughts and turned her mind back to the dying man at her feet. This time, she kept her eyes open and stared into the wound.
The scepter jewels began to glow and she felt the familiar sensation of floating. Jakon’s leg seemed to move closer to her until she could smell the poison, rancid and foul, and she fought to keep her gag reflex under control. As she concentrated on extracting the poison, the scepter grew warm in her hands and a slight vibration traveled up her arms. A magical word pushed from her lips and Jakon cried out.
“It’s working,” Larisa said. “Keep going.”
Kepriah held onto her concentration as the scepter’s trembling grew, and she stood that way for what could have been a minute or a day. Time seemed to have little meaning to her just now. Then, just like that, the sensations were gone and Kepriah blinked to get her normal vision back.
The black lines had disappeared and Jakon’s wound healed, leaving only a pink scar where the vine had breached his flesh. Beads of sweat had formed all over his dark skin making him shine in the sunlight. Larisa leaned over the man, checking his pulse and eyes, rubbing her fist across his chest. Suddenly, he took a desperate breath, and Larisa cradled his head when he began to cough. Golden eyes fluttered open and found Kepriah. She fought tears, determined not to let anyone, especially Gail, see her as weak.
“I knew I could count on you, First Noble,” he said in a breathless tone. “You saved my life.”
“Oh, you knew that, did you?” She worked to keep her voice from quivering. “So, that was a test of my powers, eh?”
Jakon gave a small laugh and sat with Larisa’s assistance. Gail had stepped as far back as the leash would allow, but Patrice had the other end wound around her ring hand.
Kepriah shook the scepter at Jakon. “You old fool. Next time you want to test my healing powers, give me a bloody splinter to remove.”
“I will remember that, First.”
She grinned down at him in relief and held out her hand. Jakon grabbed onto her wrist and she pulled him up. Once he was on his feet, he looked down at his breeches and tunic. “You certainly know how to ruin a good set of clothes, Nobles.”
The three chuckled and Larisa motioned to the captive girl. “You can thank Gail for the breeches.”
The girl’s eyes grew wide with fear. “What? You told me—”
“Relax,” Patrice said in a soft voice. “We’re just kidding around.” Gail stared at her and blinked. “Joking. We’re joking.”
“Oh.”
Larisa put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and she stiffened but did not pull away.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Kepriah said. No one argued, not even Gail.
****
The sky began to shower on them before they got halfway to the next village, the last before Abandoned City’s borders, and they could not continue traveling in the cold without risking illness. After Kepriah healed Jakon, she was able to create one archway that got them well away from Blood River. Shed hit cold spots after that, so they sheltered in an abandoned barn, or what was left of it.
Jakon put another bucket beneath the partial roof to catch drinking water. Only a third of this place was dry but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. He found dried logs hidden in a trunk, and Larisa got a fire going in the large pit once used for smelting. There was not enough rain to put the flames out, thanks to the partial roof, but the fire sizzled now and again with falling drops.
Kepriah warmed her hands as Patrice and Larisa tried to scrounge up a decent meal. Gail was even washing tubers they had salvaged from the overgrown garden. Kepriah still kept the girl leashed and now secured her to a sturdy post, the scepter leaning against it as a reminder of the Trine’s power. Gail had been obedient since the incident at Blood River, but she eyed the scepter and kept her distance from it.
After a meager meal that seemed like a banquet, they took turns relieving themselves outside then bedded down. Rain continued to fall but the fire kept them warm enough. Larisa and Patrice put Gail between them, in case the girl got a fool notion to try to run off in this nasty weather. At first, Kepriah worried that her sisters might not be able to control the girl, but after seeing Larisa’s talisman blaze a fire to life and Patrice’s ring yank tubers from the ground as if she were plucking flowers, Gail obeyed them well enough.
Jakon lay next to Kepriah, putting them both closest to the entrance. Sleep would be a welcome distraction but she could not rest. Not yet. Tension kept her muscles taut as her mind wandered into tomorrow and what they would do when they found the boy. If we find him. She lay awake with those disturbing thoughts as she tried to talk herself into sleep.
“You all right, Noble?” Jakon kept his voice low.
She pushed to one elbow and peered over his shoulder to her sisters. They were already asleep, Larisa snoring lightly, though she would never admit that, and Patrice curled in a ball on her side. Gail’s breathing had become slow and deep. Kepriah smiled. Those three could sleep through just about anything and were hell to wake some mornings, especially Patrice.
“In Sleep’s care.” Jakon smirked.
She chuckled quietly. “Yes.” Tension had built over the past few days. Oh, hell and Hollow with days—things have grown worse the past few months. Kepriah sat and rolled her head to relieve stiffness. Jakon quietly moved to her and began to massage knots from her shoulders. “That feels good.”
“Anything to please you.”
Something in his voice caught her attention and she turned to look into his dark face. “Anything?”
“I am not just protector of the Trine. I am also a man.”
With that, Kepriah took one more glance at the sleeping women a few feet away. No one moved. She pulled Jakon’s face close and kissed him roughly but he hesitated until she relaxed. Then his lips closed on hers in the gentlest way she had ever experienced. Very sensual. So, he was a gentle lover, just as she suspected. He pulled the blankets over them and swift hands removed Kepriah’s breeches and slid her tunic up over her breasts. She wanted to moan at this man’s teasing touch but they had to keep quiet.
She had learned to quell her voice in the war camps. Male soldiers often took pleasure without much thought for the woman and sometimes it hurt. Kepriah had always received a good trade from offering her young body, and her willingness kept soldiers from raping her.
Jakon’s deliberate strokes between her legs and erotic manipulation of her nipples brought her to climax quicker than she had ever done for herself. She tried to reciprocate but he insisted that he could wait until they had less company. No man had ever pleasured Kepriah without taking his own in return and that brought a new respect for Jakon, especially since she could feel his hardness against her leg.
Her sisters stirred. They could sense her when they slept but they would think it all a dream. Kepriah thanked Jakon and promised to make it up to him later. He simply smiled and moved to his blankets. She had little trouble getting to sleep after that.
In her dream, she walked in the Hollow of the Dead, bones crunching beneath her feet, and turned to see a cloaked being just feet from her.
“Hello, Noble,” the being said in a strangled voice.
She could make out no face but she had been here before, seen this being. Memories came back much quicker this time. Jabber shit! This could not be happening again. Before she could run, the being snagged her by the wrist. She drew a fist back but suddenly froze in that position.
The being clicked its tongue in admonition. “Now now, Noble. That is no way to behave.” A powerful hand closed on Kepriah’s throat. She forced herself to remain calm or else receive a crushed windpipe. “That is better. You and I are going to be quite good friends.”
“What do you want?” she managed to choke out. Though she already knew the answer.
“Your powers, of course, silly girl. And those of your sisters. I will become the Trine. I will hoist the lost moon and earn the powers you children do not understand. Or deserve.”
Kepriah felt something familiar about this being. For one, she was certain it was female. Larisa had mentioned something similar the last time they were here. Her sisters. Were they harmed? Were they still sleeping in the dilapidated barn with Jakon and Gail? How could Kepriah get word to them? They had fought this being once before. She tried to move, to pull the hand from her throat, but her limbs would not obey.
“You know me, dearie,” the being said.
“I do not.”
“Oh, come now. Surely, you do.”
The name came to her but she refused to say it, refused to acknowledge this being that was once a woman.
The featureless face leaned in and hot breath caressed Kepriah’s neck, causing a shiver. “Say my name.”
Kepriah clamped her lips shut. She will not kill you because she wants your powers. She cannot have them if you are dead.
“Say it.” The hand tightened around Kepriah’s throat until she was gasping for air. “I can make you feel this way for a very long time without dying and I will still have your powers. Or you can cooperate and it will be much more pleasant for you. Now, who am I?”
The will to live grew too strong and Kepriah nodded. Or tried to. The hand loosened a tiny fraction, enough that she could gulp in air. “Nyanan,” she croaked.
“Very good. We can begin.”
Chapter 24
The next morning, Nyanan felt quite proud of herself. She had gotten closer to the Trine than ever before. Of course, they were more clever and stronger now so she had to extract the magic slowly. Kepriah would not remember her little visit to the Hollow of the Dead last night, at least not for a while, and Nyanan smiled to herself.
That they had puzzled out what she ordered Kepriah to do in Donigere, containing those floodwaters, meant their powers were growing quickly. It had taken several days to locate the insolent girls, and she had waited until they were asleep to move on them. Nyanan’s powers still outshined theirs but she would not underestimate them again.
If not for Damon, the boy wearing a royal man’s shoes, she might still be searching for them. He had a long-standing order from his now dead father to inform her whenever he found a possible bride and to wait for Nyanan’s approval before marriage. His father had sense enough not to wish his fate onto his son, a life of extravagance to please a spoiled wife. Of course, Damon did not know Nyanan by that name. He knew her as an elderly cousin, just as her father had told him, thanks to her magic. And he did not know her location. She established a prearranged location each time she moved to a new area and instructed him to send a message if he found a marriageable woman. She could care little if the snit found a wife or not, but she would honor his father’s wishes. The man had taken her in, unlike most royals who showed little sympathy for an old woman, and given her a job. Magic could not create food and shelter and Nyanan still had to eat. When she visited, she appeared as a wise, grandmotherly type, thanks to one of her many disguises.
The foolish boy actually thinks one of the Trine will accept him. Some promise to First Noble made him hide the girls’ identities, but Nyanan had little trouble once she got a hold on his mind. Afterward, he only remembered what she instructed. She would never allow Damon to marry one of the Trine, especially Kepriah of Landerbury. Never.
Had Damon not first paid off his father’s debts and given hefty bonuses to his staff, they would have walked out, leaving him to rot in that drafty old palace. The place was in need of repair and the Moirai knew the little weasel did not have funds for upkeep. If not for Nyanan’s long-time friend, Effie, who died two years ago—May the river take her swiftly—the idiot royal would have half a dozen bastard babes by now. Effie, who also happened to be Damon’s former nursemaid, had made certain none of his little whores got pregnant. The idiot boy was so involved with himself and his own pleasures that he never checked to see if the women took precautions. A stupid move for any royal, as bastard half-royals were frowned upon. Made a real mess when apportioning an estate, since any landlord’s offspring could vie for possessions.
Nyanan had been longtime friends with Damon’s father, Dagon. She tried to tell him not to marry that no-good, gold seeking daughter of a sloth, Catrin of Southland. Catrin’s father squandered much of his own wealth on doomed business ventures and spoiling his daughter. But Dagon had said
he was in love with Catrin. Posh! Royals do not marry for love and he knew it. Without parents to force him out of such a stupid decision, Dagon did as his heart wanted and married Catrin. That no-good wench had him in debt inside a year and slept with every handsome merchant she could coax to her bed when he was away. If Kepriah learns her mother was a royal and Damon her half-brother—Well, I must make certain she does not find out just yet.
Another thorn was Jakon. Once she had the Trine’s magic, she would send him back to the desert where he belonged. He had been wandering the lands for so long, he probably would not object to going home. If he does object, well, I have ways of persuading him.
She brushed lint from her sleeve as she vowed not to lose the Trine again. Kepriah had spewed their entire planned route, rather unwillingly at first, and the foolish girls were headed to Abandoned City. And Larisa—I cannot believe the little chit received a message from the Sacred Eye. That dusty old thing could not have much power anymore. Granted, the Sacred Eye had its mysteries, but it was no substitute for a true, flesh and bone, living seer, like Nyanan. And I am also a memory controller. The Sacred Eye does not have that power. Those combined powers made her special, and she took great exception that she was not chosen as one of the Nobles. She had been certain the Moirai would choose her. These three girls have barely lived a quarter century. How can such inexperienced girls save Selenea from destruction? Most times, they bicker among themselves like tots fighting over sweets. Obviously, the Moirai have another plan for me, a bigger plan. Why else would They have chosen me as Nyanan and given me access to the Trine? Sorinieve died before giving them proper instruction, so it is up to me to take over their task.
Nyanan felt a pang of sorrow at the loss of the woman. May the river take her swiftly. Though they never agreed on some things, she had learned to respect Sorinieve’s plight. Keeper of the Faytools was not for the weak. In fact, Nyanan was not sure she could have borne that responsibility any better that Sorinieve. She jolted herself from those uneasy thoughts.