Lily of the Desert (Silver and Orchids Book 4)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  Flink sniffs about, happy to wander. I watch for a rogue dragon to join us, but they must be asleep for the night.

  Just as I’m about to tell Avery we should turn back, I spot a flickering light far out in the distance.

  “That looks like a fire,” I say, pointing it out to Avery.

  “That’s odd,” he says. “We haven’t seen a soul for days.”

  Excitement builds in my chest. “You don’t think it’s Sebastian, do you?”

  “If it is, they aren’t traveling very quickly.”

  “Perhaps it will take a while for Yancey to regain his strength.”

  Avery gives me a sideways look. “It would be dangerous to ride through the desert at this time of night and call on an unknown group.”

  “So you think we should?”

  “Might as well.” And though it’s too dark to see the gleam in his eyes, I can hear it in his tone.

  We head back to our own camp, which I am now glad is hidden from view, and saddle our horses. As a precaution, I slide on my bow and quiver, and Avery does the same. Leaving our belongings behind, we ride toward the fire, stopping before the group has a chance to hear us coming.

  Staying low, we make our way up a hill near the camp, hoping to look down on them without being spotted. As much as I would like this to be Sebastian’s group, it very well could be the men who have been sabotaging our expedition.

  Perhaps it should be no surprise that it ends up being both. I suck in a quiet gasp when I spot Sebastian. He’s on the ground, tied with his hands behind his back and his legs bound. Adeline’s beside him, and Gorin’s there as well. Yancey lies in the dirt, unmoving. I can’t tell if he’s dead or alive, but if he’s alive, he’s teetering on the edge.

  Cold dread rushes through my veins, chilling me. They never made it to the spring.

  Akello’s near the fire, but just as I feared, the mercenary isn’t on the ground. He’s tossing another log on the fire, speaking low with several of his men. Esme sits in the shadows, legs pulled up to her chest, face hidden by her knees. She, however, is not restrained.

  Rage replaces my initial reaction to the scene. She betrayed them. I don’t know if she was working for Akello, or if Akello was working for her, but it’s obvious they were in it together.

  “What do we do?” I whisper low so the sound won’t carry to the camp.

  Avery curses under his breath as he takes in the scene. “There are five of them, excluding Esme. How good a shot are you?”

  I give him a withering look, one that reminds him that I’m not known as Kalae’s siren slayer for nothing.

  “If I can take out three, can you handle the other two?” he asks.

  “How about I handle three, and you take out two?” Then I pause. “What do you mean “take out?”

  Avery shifts, looking both amused and slightly impatient. “You’re not getting squeamish on me, are you? Yancey’s down there, about to draw his last breath.”

  “I don’t kill people,” I hiss.

  “What do you suggest then? Sprinkle them with fairy powder and hope they float away?”

  Thinking, I bite the inside of my cheek. “I usually shoot just above the knee. It’s not fatal, but it certainly slows them down.”

  “You can’t make that kind of shot at this range,” he argues.

  I pin him with my eyes. “Excuse me? Can’t make that shot?”

  “You don’t think they’re going to sit there like ducks and wait for you to methodically take them out, do you?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Before my dear husband can say anything else, I draw my bow, take aim, and let the arrow fly.

  I wince as the man nearest the fire screams in shock and pain—it does look like it hurts. Perhaps he shouldn’t have kidnapped my friends.

  The others are already looking our way and ducking for cover. They’ll be after us in just a few minutes, but we have the high ground. One man, obviously drunk from the way he staggers, darts about like a dumb deer. He looks this way and that, trying to find a spot to hide. I narrow my eyes and shoot him as well.

  Satisfied, I raise an eyebrow at Avery.

  “It’s not that difficult,” he murmurs, rising to the challenge. He nocks his arrow and waits for one of them to come into view. They’ve slunk around the camp, and they’re already crawling up the cliff, hoping to catch us. Thanks to the lovely moonlight, we see them just fine.

  “Right above the knee,” I say lightly. “Or it doesn’t count.”

  Avery shoots, but instead of a leg shot, the arrow ends up embedding itself into one of the mercenary’s posteriors.

  “Bad shot,” I say, cringing.

  Avery puts his bow away. “You have no idea—I was aiming at his friend.”

  Two left, and one happens to be Akello. They’re getting close now, too close to fight with a bow.

  “Hurry—free Sebastian,” Avery commands, already drawing his broadsword. “I’ll take care of these two.”

  There’s no time to argue, no time to tell him he can’t fight both alone. Our best chance is freeing the others so they can assist.

  Keeping low, I hurry down the ridge, skidding on loose rock in several places. Esme’s already on her feet, working on Gorin’s ties. Filled with fury at her betrayal, I yank her away, dagger raised.

  “I’m helping you,” she snarls, eying the blade.

  “Just like you helped Akello ambush them?”

  She yanks her arm away and goes back to her task.

  “Lucia!” Sebastian demands.

  He’s right—there’s no time to argue now. I slice through his ropes and then move to Adeline. Sebastian’s already looting the mercenaries’ weapons, looking for his rapier. Adeline stands, rubbing her wrists.

  “Can you do any magic?” I ask. “We could use fire if you think you have it in you.”

  She glares at the rope burns on her delicate skin. “I think I can manage.”

  I turn, ready to check on Yancey, but Esme’s already at his side, speaking quiet words of comfort to him and stroking his forehead. I’m not sure whether he’s conscious, but his chest moves. I don’t want to leave him in her care, but I don’t have a choice. Avery’s outnumbered.

  Sebastian and Gorin race up the hill, off to join Avery. A persistent man, the one I shot first, lumbers toward them, attempting to sneak up behind the captain.

  “Avery!” I yell, hoping to get his attention.

  But I needn’t have bothered. Adeline raises her hands, building a flame in her palms, and she heaves it through the air, right at the man. With a tremendous crash and flash of heat, the ball explodes.

  I gape at the seamstress, and she smooths a wrinkle in her bodice, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t know if that would work.”

  Sebastian attacks Akello from behind, making the man whirl around to meet him. Gorin takes out Akello’s friend, and now it’s three against one.

  Avery ends up knocking the blade out of the mercenary’s hand. It goes flying into the air, disappearing into the night.

  Left with no choice, Akello surrenders.

  Minutes later, Avery, Sebastian, and Gorin drag him down and toss him in front of the fire. He doesn’t dare move, not with three blades pointed at his chest.

  “Who hired you?” Gorin demands, furious.

  Akello sags. “The prince of Guilead.”

  Slowly, Gorin lowers his blade. The betrayal must hurt; he looks like Akello punched him in the gut. “Daniel? Why?”

  With a surprising amount of sympathy, Akello answers, “Why do you think?”

  Gorin’s expression is anguished, and he stumbles back. “He said he would support us…that he’d…”

  An uncomfortable silence falls over the group.

  Finally, Gorin turns to Esme. She freezes under his cold gaze. “And you.”

  She shakes her head, her hands trembling. “You don’t understand—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see you or speak with you—Esme, I don�
�t want to know you.”

  “Gorin, please,” she says, tears already running down her face. “Let me explain.”

  “You are my family!” he yells, overcome. “And you betrayed me! You as good as killed Yancey!”

  She shakes her head, crawling to her feet. “I didn’t, I swear. I mean, I did—but—”

  “The crows, the cobras, the stolen mules—it was all you.”

  Esme looks at me, her face twisted with misery. “Not the cobras, I swear. That was Akello.”

  I narrow my eyes at the mercenary, but he shrugs. “They were a warning, nothing more. With your reputation, I had confidence you’d dispatch them with little difficulty—”

  “Why, Esme?” Gorin demands, cutting off the mercenary.

  “Akello was instructed to kill you if you reached the lily—he didn’t have a choice.” She begs him to understand. “I overheard him speaking to Daniel in the palace one day after a visit with Falene—I begged him to save your life. He said this was the only way. I just wanted to stop you.” She looks tearfully at Yancey. “I didn’t want this. Never this.”

  And though I don’t want to, though I want to blame her and hate her and condemn her…I believe her. And I think Gorin does too. He turns his back on the group, hands clenched at his sides, and yells into the night. He’s a man at the end of his tether. Desperate. Destroyed.

  After several tense moments, he whirls back. “Well, job well done—you’ve stopped me.” He tosses his hands in the air. “There is no time left to go back for the lily.” He strides to her, looking her right in the eyes. “Congratulations, Esme. Aren’t you proud of yourself? Don’t you feel accomplished? You’ve killed your king.”

  She crosses her arms over her stomach, sobbing. “Better him than you.”

  He shakes his head and turns away.

  “We have a lily,” I say, breaking the deathly silence.

  Every eye turns to me, including Akello’s. The mercenary doesn’t look pleased.

  Avery nods. “It’s true. Lucia began to feel better, and we traveled the rest of the way to the spring. We thought you’d already come and gone, but we collected a few of the flowers just in case.”

  Gorin stares at us blankly, as if he cannot let himself hope.

  I walk over to him and take his shoulders. “Gorin, there is still time.”

  Sebastian steps forward. “Lucia, Avery, ride with Gorin to the king’s city. You’ll make it if you leave with the dawn. Adeline and I will take Yancey to the spring.”

  Esme looks at me so intently, I know she wants to say something.

  “What is it?” I ask her.

  She licks her lips and casts a fearful look at Gorin. “You said you have a few lilies, but the king only needs one.” She turns to Yancey. “I could make a tea from the petals, see if I can save him.” She wipes away her tears even as more come. “He’s not going to hold on for another few hours, much less several days.”

  She’s right—it’s already been twelve since he was bitten. He should have passed by now. But he is strong and stubborn, and thank goodness for it.

  I look at Yancey, and my heart hurts. Finally, I nod. “We have to try.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Ribbons of Color

  With relish, Avery, Gorin, and Sebastian gather the rest of Akello’s men and bind them with the very ropes that were used to hold my friends.

  Avery, being the kind, giving sort, tends to the mercenaries’ wounds. His current patient screams in pain as Avery removes the arrow from his leg. The captain, unconcerned, looks at him, pointing his dagger at him like an old woman would point a finger at a naughty child. “This will hurt less if you hold still.”

  The man curses all kinds of obscenities, and with a smile, the captain continues his work.

  I return my eyes to the fire. Esme’s water is just beginning to simmer. With the book Yancey found in the fortress castle at Struin Aria laid on a rock by the firelight, open to the ancient alchemist’s recipes, she counts out three of the velvet purple petals and as much glowing pollen as she can harvest. Then she adds it to the water, closes the lid, and sits back on her heels.

  “Ten minutes,” she says.

  Sebastian nods and takes out his pocket watch.

  They are the longest ten minutes known to man, and I do everything I can to keep my eyes off Yancey. I’m terrified the next time I look, his chest will be still, and he will have passed before we can save him.

  The silence is punctuated with the cries of Akello’s men and Avery insisting his field surgeries would go far better if the mercenaries could stop squirming.

  “It’s time,” Sebastian says, snapping the watch closed.

  With trembling hands, Esme pours the tea into a pewter cup and kneels next to our quickly-fading alchemist, being careful not to slosh the burning liquid on him.

  “I need someone to open his mouth.” Though she says the words quietly, she can’t disguise the tremble in her voice. She’s nervous this isn’t going to work. We all are.

  Sebastian steps forward, offering to assist. Yancey doesn’t respond when Sebastian lifts his head. He’s completely unconscious.

  “Is he breathing?” I whisper.

  Sebastian asks Adeline to fetch him a knife. She obeys without question, and Sebastian holds it in front of Yancey’s nose. The metal fogs with his breath, but only barely.

  “He’s alive,” Sebastian confirms. “But not for much longer.”

  The rest of us, minus Avery of course, gather round. I hold my breath as Esme takes a spoonful of the tea and drips it into Yancey’s mouth.

  Nothing happens.

  “How much should you give him?” Adeline quietly asks.

  Esme shakes her head, helpless. “I have no idea.”

  “Give him a bit more,” Sebastian coaxes. “It can’t hurt.”

  He might as well say Yancey’s dead either way. Esme bites her lip and spoons several more doses of the lily tea into Yancey’s mouth.

  Suddenly, Yancey draws in a great, raspy gasp. We all go tense, waiting, hoping. But then the alchemist goes still once more. Too still.

  “Yancey?” Esme says, her voice almost hysterical. “Yancey!”

  Sebastian checks the man’s pulse. He drops his head and shakes it. “He’s gone.”

  “No!” Esme sobs. She rises to her feet so quickly, she spills the cup of tea. It soaks into Yancey’s shirt, coating the grisly wound underneath.

  I set my hand on her shoulder even as my own tears begin to flow. She collapses into me, sobs racking her tall frame. From over her shoulder, I meet Avery’s gaze.

  His eyes are grieved, and his expression is far more solemn than usual. He nods, understanding my pain. Esme might hold herself responsible, but she wasn’t the one Yancey saved from the wretched spider. I don’t feel guilty, not precisely. Just extreme, bitter sadness.

  Across from me, Adeline wipes her eyes. She too wears a cloak of guilt, perhaps blaming herself for coming up with the idea to bring him in the first place. She leans against Sebastian, and he wraps her in his arms, setting his chin on her head as he draws her close.

  Gorin stands nearby, grieving for many things.

  And then Yancey sucks in another breath, this one stronger, louder—like a man suddenly gasping for air after nearly drowning.

  We whirl to him, unbelieving, and his eyes open. He blinks at us and rubs the heels of his palms over his eyes.

  “Yancey!” Esme breathes, and she flies to his side. She grasps his shoulder and sets her hand on his chest.

  “What did you give me?” he croaks, sounding less than impressed as he pulls his hands down and scowls at us again.

  “You’re alive,” Esme whispers, sounding as if she can barely believe what she sees with her own eyes.

  He sits up, and she laughs even as the tears continue to stream down her face. He stares at her as if she’s an apparition.

  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” I kneel on his other side.

  He turn
s to me, studying me as well. “The colors.”

  I glance at Avery, who’s joined us. “What does he mean?”

  “Colors,” Yancey says, obviously frustrated. “You all have flittin’ fairy colors dancing around you like ribbons of light. What the oblivion did you do to me?”

  “I made tea from the lily,” Esme explains, pointing to the journal, which lays discarded in the sand. “We gave you a few spoonfuls.”

  He glances at her again, and then looks away as if it hurts. He then rolls up his sleeve, revealing his wounded arm.

  Or not wounded.

  It’s healed, perfectly knitted.

  “Impossible,” he whispers. “Why’s the fabric wet?”

  “I spilled the tea,” Esme admits.

  His eyes widen. “The colors are changing.”

  “What colors?” Avery asks, looking at Yancey as if the alchemist didn’t come back to us with his mind completely intact.

  Yancey purses his lips, probably not liking the captain’s tone.

  “Come on,” Avery says, getting a rotten look on his face. “For research purposes—what did the lily do to you?”

  “Most of you are wrapped in shades of light blue and yellow,” Yancey finally admits. “Esme has gold as well, but when she admitted she spilled the tea, half the ribbons turned an olive color. And now every single one of you is streaked with gray—but only since I started speaking.”

  I marvel at his words. “Could you be seeing emotion?”

  “That’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard.” He scowls as he watches us. “Maybe.”

  “Sebastian,” Avery says, not missing a beat, “kiss Adeline.”

  Adeline’s eyes go wide, and just when I expect Sebastian to make a fuss, he pulls her close and presses his lips to hers. She goes limp in his arms, looking as if she’s about to melt at his feet.

  “What color?” Avery demands.

  “Red, gold.” Yancey wrinkles his nose, and then he slowly turns to Esme as if something just struck him. “Gold.”