by Anne Bishop
A blast of power coming from behind him hit the boulders above his head, knocking him down. Momentarily stunned, Jared felt the Red shield across the track break.
He created another a few yards in front of him.
“Give it up,” one of the marauders yelled when he reached the new shield. “You can’t win against us, slave. Give it up!”
“When the sun shines in Hell,” Jared muttered, strengthening the shields. He darted among the boulders that had fallen into the track, constantly extending the shields as he continued to work his way to the burning wagon and the section of the road where he’d seen the others run for cover.
Blast after blast rocked the shields. Jared continued to unleash short bursts of power to break through personal shields and inner barriers, but for every marauder who fell, two more took his place.
Two bursts of power were unleashed on the road directly in front of him, and a thick cloud of dirt rose up, blinding him while he tried to regain his footing on the edge of the newly made pit. Choking, he rubbed his eyes to clear away the tears and dirt and didn’t see the man rushing out of the cloud.
Strong hands grabbed him and hauled him behind some boulders.
A Purple Dusk shield formed a dome around them and the boulders in front of them.
“Hell’s fire, even the Black Widow knows how to fight better than you do,” Randolf growled, crouching beside Jared.
Resisting the urge to ram a fist into Randolf’s face. Jared snapped. “I was never trained for this.”
“Neither was she, but she knows enough not to be polite or dainty about it,” Randolf snapped back. “You’re wasting our best weapon.”
Refusing to respond, Jared started to extend the shield on his side of the road and hit a Green shield that returned the contact with enough punch to make him feel like a baby bolt of lightning had run up his spine and scorched his lungs.
Jared shook his head to clear it and tried to convince his chest to expand enough so that he could try to breathe.
“Told you she fights better than you,” Randolf said.
Marauders dashed among the boulders on the other side of the track. Collisions of psychic power caused the energy to veer off in all directions, striking wildly.
A woman screamed in rage.
A man roared a fierce battle cry.
Somewhere among the boulders, a child screamed in terror.
That scream chilled Jared. He turned to Randolf. “What’s our best weapon?”
“Your Red Jewels,” Randolf said abruptly. Shoving Jared closer to the ground, he raised his right hand, which now wore a Purple Dusk ring, and unleashed fast arrow bolts of power.
Pushing against Randolfs restraining left hand, Jared raised his head high enough to see a marauder trying to crawl back between the shattered boulders and the bottom of the Red shield. Blood gushed from the man’s severed leg.
Randolf waited until the man’s body filled the gap. He unleashed the Purple Dusk again, severing the other leg just above the knee.
Jared stared at the Warlord guard. Crouching comfortably, Randolf returned the stare with a steady gaze.
“You did exactly what they counted on you doing,” Randolf said quietly. “You threw your strength into defending instead of fighting. If I were up there, I would have gambled that way.”
“Why?”
Randolf ignored the question. “They’ve thrown twice as many men against you as they’ve got pinning down the rest of us because they want to eliminate the Red.” He snorted. “I doubt they were expecting our Ladies to show so much teeth and temper. Once you’re gone, though, they’ve got the numbers to pull the rest of us down and take whatever they’ve come to take.”
Randolf didn’t need to say the obvious. There was only one person—now, maybe two—who was worth this much effort and this kind of cost.
“You defend well, Warlord,” Randolf said. “Now it’s time to kill.”
“The bodies lying among the boulders aren’t resting, Warlord,” Jared replied, feeling foolishly like an adolescent who’d just had an older male dismiss his efforts as barely adequate.
“You’re wasting your strength that way. The way you’ve been doing it, you need two strikes—one for a man’s shield and one for the inner barriers. Plus you’re feeding the shields.”
Jared ground his teeth. “I know that.”
“Stop feeding the shields.”
“If I do that, they’ll fall in a minute,” Jared protested.
Randolf eyed him grimly. “Then a minute’s all you have. A fast descent to your core, come up under their inner barriers and unleash. Hold your strength in a half circle.” He drew a small figure in the air with his finger. “Keep the baseline directly in front of you. Then fan out the Red in front of that line. If you unleash in a circle, you’ll take out all of us as well as them.”
Jared swallowed hard. “I’ve never tried anything like that. What if I can’t control it that way?”
“Then, if we’re lucky, we’ll all be destroyed completely,” Randolf replied harshly. “If we’re not lucky, you’ll be looking at a lot of empty but still-living husks.” His hand clamped down on Jared’s arm. “No mistakes. No second chances. And no time to get squeamish. It’s a fast kill. We need to cut the odds.” The hand on Jared’s arm gentled. “And I won’t tell anyone if you puke your guts out afterward.”
Not understanding that last comment, Jared swallowed again, took a deep breath, turned inward, and dove into the abyss.
Except during his training when he’d been mentally tethered to an instructor, he’d never made a fast dive down to his core, his inner web. The speed and the panicky feeling that he was falling and out of control terrified him. If he plunged through his inner web, at best he’d cut himself off from his own power and destroy his ability to wear the Jewels; at worst, he’d shatter his own mind.
He flashed past the level of the lighter Jewels, gaining speed.
White, Yellow.
He was falling too fast. But there was no time to slow down the descent.
Tiger Eye, Rose.
If he failed, Lia . . .
Summer-sky, Purple Dusk.
A woman had screamed.
Opal, Green.
A woman had screamed.
He stopped thinking, let the Warlord in him reign. The dive changed instantly from a frantic, barely controlled plunge into a graceful, savage dive. His heartbeat drum kept the slow, steady rhythm as he flashed past the depth of the Sapphire and gathered his strength, preparing to make the turn just above his inner web.
This is what Blood males meant when they talked of rising to the killing edge. The mind cleared of all distractions. A lifetime was contained between heartbeats. He had all the time he needed to think, to act.
Jared made the turn and began his ascent. Above him, he saw those other minds as flickering, Jewel-colored stars, as candle flames that were about to be snuffed out by a wild Red wind. He drew a mental line, creating the half circle the way Randolf had told him.
As he continued to rise, he waited, waited.
A few Opals, but nothing stronger.
As he rose to the level of the Green, he unleashed the Red, flooding those smaller containers until they burst from within.
Up, up, up. Jewel stars exploded. Above the White were the colorless candles of the non-Jeweled Blood. He snuffed them out, too.
A hand clamped on his shoulder. Fingers dug into his arm.
Ignoring the hand, he turned and made another leisurely descent. Not so deep this time. He didn’t need to go deep. The Red still throbbed in his blood.
“Enough, Jared,” a harsh voice yelled in his ear.
He understood it now. Create a frame around the Jewel stars. Hold the power within that frame.
He turned slightly, his eyes seeing and yet not seeing the boulders on the other side of the road.
A box. A neat box to hold those little candles. His mental frame brushed against a Summer-sky star. Recognizing the psychi
c scent, he pulled the frame away from Corry’s terrified mind.
And unleashed again.
More Jewel stars burst. Died.
A fist clipped his chin, snapping his head back.
Snarling, Jared twisted to face whoever dared interfere with him.
Fear filled Randolf’s brown eyes—fear and grim acceptance.
Jared blinked.
The heartbeat drum sped up.
Before he was aware of it, he slid away from the killing edge.
He blinked again and looked around.
Randolf hadn’t told him the psychic explosion might also manifest as physical destruction.
Jared stared at the shattered faces, the exploded heads.
Breaking away from Randolf’s restraining hands, Jared leaned over the boulder that had been giving them a little cover and heaved.
A strong, callused hand covered his forehead. Another hand soothingly rubbed his back.
“You could have told me,” Jared gasped. He heaved again.
“Would have made it harder for you,” Randolf said roughly.
Panting, Jared tried to spit out the sick taste. He straightened up slowly.
Randolf took a step back.
“Have you ever done that?” Jared asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Randolf nodded. “Yeah. I’ve done it. There are good reasons why the dark-Jeweled Blood are feared, Jared.”
A blast of power striking a nearby boulder reminded them that the battle wasn’t over.
Jared threw a Red shield around both of them. They sprinted across the road, choosing a place that would hide them from anyone above them.
“Hell’s fire,” Randolf said with grudging admiration. “Despite all the power they’re throwing against her, the Black Widow is still managing to hold that Green shield.”
On the other side of that shield, dozens of marauders continued to unleash the strength of their Jewels, trying to break through.
The blasts of power coming from their side of the road were mostly focused on the remains of the wagon. Thera was probably using it for cover. Was Lia with her?
Jared pushed away from the boulders, feeling a little light-headed. “Shall we give the Ladies a hand?”
Randolf grabbed his arm and yanked him down.
“There’s something odd about that shield,” Randolf said, narrowing his eyes. “Never seen anything like that. Didn’t even know you could do that.”
Jared didn’t see anything at first. Then he noticed the weird flickering inside the shield—flashes of Purple Dusk inside the Green. He could almost feel the elation of the men who were sending bolt after bolt of power against the shield.
“The Purple Dusk is probably her Birthright Jewel,” Jared said. “If the reservoir of power in her Green Jewel is almost gone, she’d switch to her Birthright.”
“If that was the case, there would be a Purple Dusk shield behind the Green one. But it looks like she’s blending the strength of her Birthright Jewel with the strength of her Green. Damned if I know how.”
One of the marauders shouted something. The blasts stopped. A few seconds later, all of them unleashed at the same time.
Once.
Twice.
On the third collective strike, the Green shield broke and the Purple Dusk power inside it turned into a roaring wall of witchfire that swept across the boulders.
Men screamed in agony, caught in that flood of fire.
The witchfire burned out in a few seconds.
It was more than enough.
Jared closed his eyes, unable to watch as the bodies ravaged by the fire began to fall.
“Mother Night.” Randolf whispered sickly. “Mother Night.”
Shuddering, Jared pressed his forehead against his knees.
He heard horrified shouts coming from the boulders above him.
He couldn’t move. He had to move. Had to find the others. Had to find Lia.
In the tense seconds that followed, there were no more blasts of unleashed power. No more shouts.
Silence, except for a rhythmic pounding somewhere close by.
“The bastards who were left caught the Winds and fled,” Randolf said, cautiously getting to his feet. “I don’t think there were many of them.”
Jared slowly raised his head, but couldn’t bring himself to look across the road. Even using the boulders for support, it took a couple of tries to get to his feet.
“I’ve never—” Jared stumbled over the words.
Randolf wiped a sleeve across his clammy face. “Nor I. Not like that. Never like that.”
Jared raked a dirty hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and willed his quivering legs to move. “Let’s find the others.”
They found Corry and Cathryn a few feet up the road, half-hidden by piles of stones that had been large boulders a short time ago.
“You can drop the shield now, Corry,” Jared said, noting that the Summer-sky Jewel the boy wore around his neck didn’t have even a flicker of reserve power left.
“I-is it done?” Corry whispered. The faint freckles on his nose and cheeks stood out lividly against the pasty skin.
“It’s done,” Jared said.
Corry slowly uncurled. Cathryn remained in a tight ball.
Corry patted Cathryn’s shoulder. “It’s all right now. It’s all right.”
Cathryn’s eyes remained terrifyingly blank.
Corry shook her gently. “Cathryn? It’s all right now.”
Jared crouched down, wondering if he dared to touch her.
A minute passed before Cathryn took a shuddering breath and blinked. She looked at Jared and burst into tears.
Corry put his arms around her and rocked her. Then he pressed his face against her shoulder and started crying.
Jared rested a hand on Corry’s bright red hair. Recognizing there was nothing he could do for either of them, he left them.
A few moments later, Eryk stumbled into the road. He would have fallen if Randolf hadn’t caught him. He looked at Jared, and his eyes filled with tears.
“I tried,” Eryk sobbed. “I tried.”
Randolf pulled the boy into a fierce embrace. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”
“T-Tomas.” Eryk said. “Tomas . . . I tried!”
Leaving Randolf to deal with Eryk, Jared hurried toward the wagon. Thayne was nearby, swaying on his feet as he soothed the gelding, mare, and one of the wagon horses. When he turned, Jared saw the burns that covered the left side of his face and his left arm.
“You shielded the horses,” Jared said. Seeing the sorrow and pain in Thayne’s eyes, Jared glanced at the wagon. He quickly looked away from the remains of the other horse. “How badly are you hurt?”
Thayne tried to smile. “I’ll live.”
Blaed walked down the road toward them, moving so carefully Jared’s body ached in sympathy.
Do my eyes look that haunted? Jared wondered.
“I killed them,” Blaed said, his voice trailing away.
Jared understood what wasn’t being said. To protect Thera and Lia, Blaed had made the choice to step onto that private battlefield inside himself and wholly embrace the violent nature of a Warlord Prince. What Jared had needed Randolf’s instruction to do, Blaed had done instinctively—and had been no more prepared for the results of that kind of killing than Jared had been.
Before Jared could think of something to say to Blaed, Thera suddenly appeared, staggering from exhaustion and sobbing uncontrollably. Thin to begin with, she now had the gaunt, dried-husk look of a witch who had channeled too much power through her body.
“Lia?” she said plaintively, a desperate look in her eyes.
No answer.
When Blaed moved toward her, she stumbled away from him, holding her arms out for balance.
“Lia!” Thera looked around frantically.
Ice coated Jared’s spine. Where was Lia? Was she too hurt to answer?
“LIA!” Staggering over to the bou
lders, Thera tried to climb. Her body shook with the effort. Sobbing hysterically, she sank to the ground. “LIIIAA!”
Jared turned toward the boulders, opening his inner barriers as he searched for Lia’s psychic scent, probed for some trace of a Green Jewel.
He found nothing.
“LIA!” Jared shouted.
He scrambled through the boulders, slipped on torn-apart bodies, barely aware of them except to feel relief that they were male.
A groan to his left made him tense, crouch.
A male hand wearing a Purple Dusk ring appeared above a boulder, found a handhold.
Jared pointed his Red-Jeweled ring toward the man rising behind the boulder and waited.
Brock stared at Jared, blood streaming down his face.
“Did they take her?” Brock asked hoarsely.
Jared didn’t answer.
“Is the Lady safe? Is the boy all right?” Brock’s blue eyes begged for an answer.
“What happened?” Jared asked. Somewhere in the rocks behind him, he heard Thera calling for Lia.
Brock licked his lips. He coughed and spat out blood. “Too many of the bastards. One group came at me. While I was trying to hold them, a couple of them circled around. Eryk was trying to shield Tomas, but he only wears the Yellow. They broke through his shield. Tossed him aside and grabbed Tomas. Next thing I know, they’re standing up on that rock over there”—Brock jerked his chin toward a flat boulder a few yards away—“yelling if she didn’t give herself to them, they’d throw the boy to his death. I told her—I told her to stay down, stay hidden. Told her I’d get Tomas. Made it this far when my shields broke and they were on me. Last thing I saw before I went down was Lady Lia running toward that boulder and Garth swinging that damn broken axle like a club.”
Brock spat again and then said in a bewildered voice, “She was shielding that broken bastard. And there was some kind of Craft wrapped around that axle. They couldn’t touch him, and he was smashing through skulls like they were ripe tomatoes. Why did she do it, Jared? Why did she shield a male who’s already half-dead? Why did she risk herself for a half-Blood?”
There are no pawns.
Jared didn’t answer. There was something he’d forgotten. Something important. But how, in the name of Hell, was a man supposed to think with that damn pounding?