Invasion (The Warrior Chronicles, 4)

by K. F. Breene

  This time Shanti did punch him. Why couldn’t these guys keep their mouths shut? She jerked her head at Alena. “Let’s go.”

  “What did he mean about the orphans? That’s the second time someone has brought them up.”

  “Nothing. They just wanted to help, is all.”

  “You’re having the orphans help? Through here.”

  They cut through a yard, closing the wooden gate behind them. Shanti directed Alena to the little brick path that cut through the garden. It was a lovely little spot, even better to have this cultivated nature in one’s backyard. Shanti had to remember to tell Cayan she wanted something like this.

  “Why’d you grimace? What’s wrong?” Alena looked behind them in a panic.

  “Nothing. Sorry. My thoughts get away from reality sometimes. Here, this way.”

  “I can’t climb a fence in a dress!”

  “Yes you can. Probably.” Shanti pointed at the small path and then the border of flowers. “Careful to keep your feet out of the dirt, and make sure you don’t knock any flowers off with that horrible excuse for fashion.”

  “You just wish you knew fashion,” Alena mumbled, keeping hers eyes on her feet as she hiked up her dress.

  “My people have fashion sense, believe me. And you can run and fight in it. Here—” Shanti pulled Alena up to the fence and then took fistfuls of her dress.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You should just stop asking. I can’t explain when I’m in a hurry.” Shanti pulled the dress around Alena’s middle and tried to tie it in a knot. With the stiff fabric underneath, there was no way that was going to work. Instead, she settled for two knots—one in front and one behind.

  “It’ll have to do.” Shanti tucked the extra pieces into the giant, pant-like undergarments. “Okay, up you go.” She bent down and threaded her fingers together, ready to give Alena a boost.

  To Shanti’s surprise, Alena didn’t take it. She grabbed the top of the fence, bounced, and hoisted herself up. A leg went over, then the other, before the woman dropped down to the other side with the slide of fabric on wood. Shanti threw the corset over after her.

  After a quick glance behind her, noticing a couple of areas that a more experienced tracker could follow, which she hoped ruled out this Graygual, she tucked her dress up and easily scaled the fence behind Alena. Dropping down to the other side, she let her dress back out, smoothing it down.

  “We’ve ruined these dresses,” Alena said with a sigh. “I don’t usually get ones this nice.”

  “There’s that one Rohnan wouldn’t wear. Take that one.”

  “It’ll be way too big. He’s…built. Um…muscular. Well built, I mean.” The woman’s face colored with embarrassment.

  “He’s handsome, yes. And popular with the ladies. I’ve never heard a complaint from his prowess in bed. You should spend a night with him.”

  Alena coughed as she stopped next to a walkway leading up to the red door of a quaint little house. “I don’t… That’s not what I meant.”

  Shanti glanced behind her. She couldn’t feel the guard within the limited scope of her Gift. If they ducked into this house, they might have a shot at disappearing. “Shall we?”

  “Oh. Yes.” Alena turned and made her way to the door. Once there, she did a series of knocks, tapping out a code, and waited. Impatience radiated from her as she glanced behind her, scanning the lane.

  “There’s no one around,” Shanti said.

  The door swung open. Fabienne, the outspoken woman from the night before, stood in the doorway with a severe expression. “What are you doing here? You’re—” She noticed Shanti, waiting quietly off to the side. “Come in.”

  Alena entered with a swish of her dress, walking erect with her shoulders back. She looked like she was still wearing the corset, apart from her natural, free-swinging breasts. Something Fabienne noticed immediately. The scowl deepened.

  Shanti walked through next, tossing the corset on the ground like trash. In the living area sat three women, one of them Tabby. Their dresses weren’t as puffy, nor as shiny, but the same impression of frill flowed over their laps and brushed the floor. Each held a threaded needle and an open-weave canvas.

  “Needlepoint.” Shanti deflated. She hated needlepoint.

  “Would you like a cuppa?” Fabienne’s question sounded more like a command. “You will, won’t you? You will.” She nodded decisively and stalked off toward the kitchen.

  “A cuppa?” Shanti asked Alena quietly.

  “Tea.” Alena picked through some boards of needlepoint until apparently finding one she liked. After delicately setting it on the couch, she moved with a slow grace that completely contradicted their harried plight from a moment before, then she organized a new piece of canvas.

  “No, thank you.” Shanti stepped toward the kitchen. “I’d much rather do something useful. Do you have any knives to sharpen?”

  “This is useful.” Tabby used a convincing tone. “Look at the beautiful patterns you can make.”

  Shanti’s smile froze. She couldn’t think of anything uglier.

  Alena lifted her brow. “Your hands are probably much too calloused. You’d do a terrible job.”

  Shanti was about to smile thankfully but instead indignation took over. “A needle thrown just right can kill someone.”

  Alena smiled in a placating sort of way. “That’s okay. Not everyone can do it.”

  A surge of stubbornness rose up. If they wanted a stupid flower stitched into a coarse white sheet, fine. They could chop with dull knives.

  As Shanti sat down in her uncomfortable dress to waste her time, Tabby said, “This is Maggie and Gabrielle. They are members of the Circle. They’d already left by the time you got there last night. I was just filling them in on what they missed.”

  Maggie, a woman with pockmarks on her face and a bad scar on her jaw, nodded in greeting. The other, Gabrielle, a petite woman with a prim set to her countenance and stature, said “hello” demurely. In appearance, the women couldn’t be any more different.

  “How did your walk go?” Fabienne asked as she came out of the kitchen with two cups of a steaming liquid. She set those on the low table in the middle of the chairs and couch before checking the level of milk in a little canister on a tray.

  “One, please, and a splash of milk,” Alena said to Fabienne as she started to stitch into her project. “Not well. An Inkna blasted me with his power and a Graygual started following us.”

  “A Graygual followed you?” Tabby dropped her project to her lap. The other women let theirs hover in midair as they homed in on Alena and Shanti.

  Alena told them the story as Shanti concentrated on the pattern of a tree, a rabbit, and a bit of grass. Why someone would want this tableau on a pillow or a wall was anyone’s guess. As Alena was finishing, Shanti made her first stitch.

  “Did you tell her what we were thinking?” Fabienne said, delivering the cups into the girls’ hands.

  “No.” Alena sipped her tea delicately. Shanti took a sip, burnt her mouth, and then put hers on the little table next to the couch.

  “Maggie?” Fabienne said.

  “I think I can rig up an exploding device,” the pockmarked woman said, placing a stitch into her canvas. She raised her eyebrows and glanced up at Shanti. “You would throw it into the Graygual and it would explode, killing those near it. If you need something like that.”

  Shanti dropped the canvas. “Come again?”

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed the state of my face.” With the needle tip, she pointed to a pockmark, then the scar. “This wasn’t the result of disease or puberty. I accidentally came across a chemical mix that explodes. A few, actually. After discovering the first, making me look like this, I experimented with others. I can delay it long enough to throw it. It’ll explode enough to harm, and maybe take off a limb. I might be able to make it more violent…”

  “This city just keeps getting better,” Shanti said in a breathy whisper. A smil
e drifted up her face. “Does Cayan know about this?”

  The women glanced at each other. “No,” Tabby said. “We thought it best that this knowledge stayed with us. There has been no need for it before now. Men can be careless, and if this information got into the hands of children…”

  “Plus,” Gabrielle added, “the men haven’t discovered it, which means they’d question that we have. Many of them think we’re as soft as kittens. The Captain knows about our art, but exploding poison…well, that might ruffle even his feathers.”

  “This would be an act of war,” Fabienne announced boldly. “But if you think it’s a good idea, we’ll give it a debut.”

  “Can you control it?” Shanti asked.

  “Now, see? She asks good questions.” Fabienne nodded in approval.

  “She’s just using logic,” Gabrielle said.

  “My late husband would’ve asked how much he could blow up.” Fabienne sniffed.

  Maggie ignored the women. “After a fashion.” She threaded another needle. Pride drifted out from her. Pride, and passion. She clearly had a love for mixing chemicals, and using her creation pleased her. Shanti could understand that mentality. “I would only trust a select few with both the knowledge, and the use. If mixed incorrectly, or timed badly, it would have devastating results.”

  “I understand.” Shanti let the seriousness of the situation sink in. “I think you should use it if you can control it. The enemy would greatly love the knowledge, I can guarantee you. And they would take it if they could. We can’t risk them having any more of an edge.”

  “We could use the help of men, though…” Tabby’s face was bright red. Her head was bent farther than normal to her task. “They’re stronger. They could throw farther.”

  “A catapult would be better, don’t you think?” Shanti asked. “A catapult might counteract the reach of some of the Inkna. If you can work at the edge of their range, and fling these at them, I wouldn’t be so outnumbered.”

  “Why didn’t we think of that?” Maggie scowled at the others. “Yes, I could time that. We’d still need the army men, though. They have the knowledge of that machine.”

  “I doubt they’d go along with the plan of a woman…” Gabrielle said in a dry tone. Her lips pursed.

  “They’d do what Shanti said,” Alena said with fierce determination that didn’t match her graceful movements.

  “How?” Fabienne arched an eyebrow.

  “Your people need to blur this divide between sexes. There’s no point in it.” Shanti chanced another sip of her brew. “In this, it’s as simple as giving them the plan, then showing them the execution. Besides obeying their superior officer, they respond to skill, or violence. Often, I use both to make my point.”

  “Well, whatever works.” Maggie shrugged. “We just need someone that can help us rig something up. Help, though. Not try to take over.”

  Frantic knocking sounded at the door. All the women in the living area went rigid, except for Shanti, who stood and backed toward Alena. “Get ready to get me out of this dress.”

  “Who is it?” Fabienne yelled through the door.

  “Rohnan. I need Shanti.”

  “Let him in,” Shanti said, moving toward the door.

  The door swung open, revealing Rohnan with tight green eyes. Alarm rolled from him and into the room. “Chulan, three things. First, three people were carried out of the prison. Dead, it seemed. There was a big stir, so it must’ve been someone important.”

  “You don’t know who?” Shanti asked, unease clawing at her.

  “No.” His glance went beyond her and into the room. “But they don’t seem worried, so they might.”

  Before Shanti could glance back to get more information, Rohnan continued, “There is a Graygual working his way in this direction. He’s not a great tracker, but he’s good enough to follow the many clues you left thanks to those dresses. I do not think that was a great idea, Chulan. Even if you managed to pull it off, it was hindering you.”

  “Next?” Shanti asked.

  The alarm intensified. “Three Graygual have been sent to collect someone. They plan to make an example of them to force the Captain’s hand.”

  Shanti’s mind raced. The Hunter collecting someone meant he or she would be tortured or killed. As the Hunter would easily have picked up on this people’s affinity for protecting the female sex, he would be grabbing a woman.

  There was no situation where Cayan would let the Graygual kill one of his people, especially a woman. He would either kill the Graygual and then give himself up to stop the killing of anyone else, or he’d just go quietly, thinking he could get himself out of the situation somewhere down the line. Either way, he’d shake the hourglass, draining what little time they had.

  “Flak.” She turned, showing him her back. “Have you heard who it was?”

  She felt Rohnan’s deft fingers working at the dress. “Sanders’ wife, Junice.”

  The color bled from Shanti’s vision for just a moment, intense fear flashing through her. Sanders would go ballistic. Cayan wouldn’t even have a chance to give himself up. Sanders would tear through the Graygual without a second thought.

  In the end, he’d join the pile of bodies. They all would.

  All of that was assuming Shanti didn’t step in. Which was, of course, preposterous.

  “What can we do?” Alena asked, at her elbow. The other women had stood up, too, needlepoint discarded.

  Shanti stepped out of her dress and flung it to the side. “Nothing. Stay here. Stay out of the way. If I get caught, get those explosives working. Free as many men from the jail as possible. It won’t be long before this whole city is caught up in warfare. You will need to work with the men to save yourselves. They won’t want you to, but I’d bet seeing one explosive work will change their minds.”

  “They’ll work,” Maggie said with complete confidence. “But what about Junice? We can’t stand aside while one of our sisters is taken.”

  “She won’t be.” Shanti turned to Rohnan. “I need to get my sword.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Reflecting on their situation, Sanders walked his horse through the trees. The sun had passed its zenith and was slipping down toward the horizon. He probably had no more than four hours of solid daylight left before twilight snuck in and played with his vision. Tobias moved out ahead of him, bow in hand, staring up into the trees.

  They had been walking around the perimeter for the last few hours. He’d told the Captain it was to scout out the area and see if there were any holes in the defense, but he suspected the Captain saw through him. What he’d really needed was to get moving. Sitting and waiting for their fate from the Hunter wasn’t his style.

  “This one has been vacant for a while, sir.” Tobias pointed up at the wooden platform built into the branches of the tree like a tree house. “They aren’t putting much effort into the areas away from the gates.”

  “Not that they would. They can sense with their minds. Relaying information is a lot easier.”

  “How?”

  Sanders thought about it for a moment. “Hell, I don’t know. But it must be, right, or else why aren’t they spread out around the city?”

  “Maybe they don’t have enough men.”

  “Hopefully, yes.” Sanders walked in toward the city a little, to see if a flash of pain would have him retreating again. So far, he’d mapped out how far they could veer in before the Inkna blasted them with their mental power. Around the gates, it wasn’t far at all. Out here in no man’s land, they could just about see the stone wall surrounding the city. Not that that would help much. Shanti might be able to scale the wall and drop in undetected, but that was because someone was running interference. With all their men and no distraction, someone would notice, then they could just stroll on over and knock the Captain and everyone down with a few Inkna.

  Sanders balled his fists and turned his horse around. There was no point in mapping this out anymore. He had all the inform
ation he needed. His conclusion was the same as before he even started: they needed more warriors.

  “All right, let’s head around the far side and then head back in,” he called to Tobias, who was inspecting another crow’s nest.

  “This one has a little blood on it, sir,” Tobias said, getting off his horse.

  Sanders stomach lurched with implications. “Someone didn’t want to come down peacefully.”

  Tobias climbed up into the crow’s nest, looking around. He peered over the side and down at the ground. “Nah. Doesn’t look too bad. Not much up here. If it was an arrow, it probably wasn’t a mortal shot.”

  Sanders refused to look around to get their exact location. He didn’t want to know who, specifically, had been in that tree when the Graygual came calling. Ten names were already scrolling through his head with the general area—he didn’t want to narrow it down. Not before he could do something about it.

  “C’mon. Let’s move on,” Sanders grudgingly called. “I’m sure the Hunter could have a surprise for us at any time.”

  “I’d rather miss it.” Tobias gave one more glance out.

  Me too. Sanders looked out to the side, not focusing on anything. As usual, the image of Junice invaded his thoughts. Her smell. Her beautiful smile. He missed her something awful. He’d never wanted to settle down. As soon as he had enrolled into the army, he had known that that was his life. That was what he wanted to do forever. It was his one great love, and he could think of nothing better than protecting his people with the strongest Captain to ever grace that city.

  She’d blindsided him. Completely turned his world upside down. She’d been walking down the street, all done up for some occasion or other, and she’d noticed him across the way. One smile. That was all it had taken.

  From then on, all he could think about was her. Her witty comments, her funny jokes, and the way she bent and twisted him until he didn’t know which way was up. He’d been wrapped around her little finger from the word “go,” and it had never bothered him a bit. If his friends made fun of him, all he had to do was point at her. That was it. If they were any kind of man, they’d know that a girl like her was worth any kind of personality adjustment.