Edge of Darkness ~ A Darkness & Light Novel Book Three

by K. L. Schwengel

  "Only if they know it's us."

  "I'm fairly certain they will," Berk said pointedly. "I believe Grumnlin's gone."

  The general twisted to look around. He called out softy but got no answer. "We'll have to press on then. If we get to the village before them, we can make sure there's a surprise waiting when they arrive."

  Berk thought it more likely they'd be the ones getting the surprise, and not one they'd enjoy. "Maybe it would be best to not go into the village at all. Even if Grumnlin did go back to them, marauders aren't fools."

  "Suggesting I am?"

  "No, sir," Berk said. "Not when you're of your right mind."

  "And I'm not now?"

  "I really can't say for certain. But it's not doing us any good standing here arguing about it. I suggest we move on. You know the way to this village I trust?"

  The night hid the general's expression. All Berk could see with any clarity were his light eyes, and those narrowed perceptibly, causing Berk to automatically draw himself up to attention. Goddess above, if they made it back to Nisair alive the general could have him strung up for his insolence.

  "You've a lot of your father in you," Bolin said, before Berk could form a suitable apology.

  "Hopefully you don't see that as a bad thing, sir."

  "Not entirely. Let's go."

  The general turned and started off, and Berk let out the breath he'd been holding. He wouldn't have to worry about marauders if he insisted on continuing to push the general.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Ciara nestled against the firm, gentle limbs embracing her. A cool breeze wafted across her face, but the warmth of the body sheltering her kept it from chilling the rest of her. The comforting scent of wood burning teased her nostrils, and her stomach grumbled loudly when she caught the smell of roasting meat overlying it.

  She wakes, Andrakaos said.

  "Who wakes?" Ciara asked.

  A chuckle rumbled up from his chest. You.

  "M'lady?"

  Ciara peered through her lashes. Early morning sunlight filtered through a thin canopy of leaves, showing her a worried and pale Ferris. She forced her way free of the last dregs of unconsciousness, and craned her head back to look up at Andrakaos as she realized she lay against his massive chest, in the protective circle of one forearm. She had never been so close to him, and from her current angle he appeared gigantic. He shifted to arch his neck and tip his head, surveying her with one dark eye. If Ciara hadn't known better, she would have said a smile curved the edges of his mouth. Most would have called it a snarl, but the love and tenderness flowing from him told her otherwise.

  "What happened?"

  "Saving our lives seemed a bit taxing for you," Ferris said, relief easing some of the tension on his face.

  "Where's Donovan?"

  Ferris's expression froze, his eyes darkening. He jerked his head in the opposite direction but didn't comment.

  "Alive?" she asked.

  "Not by my choice. He did nothing to aid us in there." Outrage rippled through Ferris's voice. "He lays claim to such power, yet stood off to the side while you battled the wyvern on your own."

  "I wasn't on my own," Ciara said. "I had Andrakaos. And you."

  "He should have aided us."

  "It doesn't matter, Ferris." Ciara laid a hand on his arm and her earth magic immediately flowed upward. "You're hurt."

  "No worse than you," he said, his lips twitching into their quirky smile to reassure her, though his eyes remained shadowed. "Are you hungry?"

  "Changing the subject to avoid answering a question is a trick I'm quite familiar with." Ciara pushed herself up. Her breath hitched at the quick jab of discomfort that accompanied the movement. She rubbed a hand across her side, only then realizing someone had bound her ribs, and her cheeks warmed at the thought of either of the men seeing her unclothed. "Did you… "

  Ferris took her hands to help extract her from between Andrakaos's legs. "With the utmost propriety. I'd have asked your permission first, but you were deeply out and the gy'lafrei was concerned."

  "Oh." Ciara averted her eyes, chiding herself for being embarrassed. "Well, then, I'll see to your injuries before I eat."

  As they walked toward the fire, Ciara caught sight of Toora and Beya tethered to a shrub, both looking relaxed and content as they pulled at the short grass and nibbled on low-hanging leaves. The dangers faced in Erret Maw replaced, now that they were behind.

  She saw Donovan next, seated on a log on the far side of the small camp, his back against a tree. At first she thought him asleep, but his head turned to follow her as she guided Ferris to a rock and had him sit, and she could feel his gaze on her as she worked.

  Ciara couldn't contain a gasp of dismay when she lifted Ferris's tattered tunic to find the ragged claw mark that ran down his back.

  "Likely looks worse than it is," Ferris said, hissing when Ciara prodded at the reddened flesh around the wound.

  "It's not very deep, but it looks infected already."

  Lizard venom, Andrakaos said.

  "It's not deadly." Ferris glanced at Ciara over his shoulder. "More of an uncomfortable annoyance than anything."

  Like the lizards themselves.

  Ferris frowned. "They should've been out hunting. I've never seen them inside in such numbers after sunset."

  They came for us. They remember a different time. Andrakaos turned to look back into the glittering opening of Erret Maw. I remember this place. It is a place of power. His attention swiveled to Donovan, full of malice. Once there were others like me. I was not the only.

  "I had nothing to do with the destruction of your kind," Donovan said, without changing his posture.

  You took me from here?

  "No. I found you in the ethereal. Adrift and alone."

  And so sought to claim me. Andrakaos's lips curled back.

  "As all those of power seek to claim more."

  "I don't," Ciara said.

  "You are young, and have not yet tasted the fullness of your strength. When you do, you will see that I speak the truth."

  "Your version of it," Ferris said.

  "Ah, yes, the incorruptible Sciath. A shame your lord does not possess the same moral qualities as you. His insatiable hunger will see us all dead."

  Ciara tightened her fingers on Ferris's shoulder, just enough to settle the anger she felt rising in him, because it called to her own.

  "You don't know Bolin as well as you think you do," she said to Donovan. "He's nothing like you paint him to be."

  "How long have you known him, Daughter? A handful of years? My history with him is more than ten times that. I think, of the two of us, I am better able to judge what the man will do in any given situation."

  Ciara turned away from Donovan, focusing on Ferris's wound. She didn't want to admit the truth in Donovan's words. She wanted to believe she knew Bolin well enough to defend his actions. Yes, she had disparaged his overriding sense of duty and honor more than once, but those things defined him. He could no more go against those, than water could flow uphill. They were admirable qualities, certainly, but they frightened Ciara because of the actions they caused him to take. Little could sway Bolin from his chosen path when he felt he was in the right.

  "I can set a healing spell to fight off the venom," she said to Ferris.

  He nodded. "My thanks, m'lady."

  Ciara reached for her earth magic and a blinding pain stabbed behind her eyes. Her shocked intake of breath sent a similar reaction through her ribs.

  "…overextended herself."

  "Perhaps, had you lent a hand, she wouldn't have needed to."

  "Had we not taken this route, we would not have found ourselves in such a situation."

  "Stop."

  The ground rumbled. No. Andrakaos growled. Ciara tried to pry her eyes open. When had she even closed them? For that matter, when had she lain down again?

  "--and I swear by the Goddess--"

  "Tell 'em to stop bickering," she to
ld Andrakaos.

  His growl deepened and the men's voices quieted. Ciara didn't move for a long stretch. Or at least it felt that way. She concentrated on breathing first, then on convincing the throbbing in her head to cease. When she could be certain both things were under control, she slowly sat up. Ferris and Donovan helped her to her feet when she insisted on making the attempt, then guided her to the same rock Ferris had been sitting on earlier. She rested her elbows on her thighs and cradled her head in her hands.

  "I'm getting tired of asking this," she said without looking up. "But, what happened?"

  "You pushed beyond your current abilities," Donovan said, tone flat.

  She looked up at him through her fingers. "Meaning?"

  "Power does not come without cost, Daughter. The working you created to destroy the wyvern was a small thing for the depth of your power, no small thing for you to cast, however."

  "I don't even know what I did," Ciara said. "Or how I did it."

  "The sign of true power is the ease and instinctiveness of its use. It should take no more effort than swatting a fly."

  "Then why did it affect me like this?"

  "Because you are untrained and ill-prepared."

  "Here." Ferris shouldered Donovan out of the way and handed Ciara a cup. "Spice wine with a touch of bellwort for your head."

  Ciara cradled the warm cup in her hands, inhaling the sweet blend. "Thank you."

  The scent of it did almost as much to ease the throbbing behind her eyes as drinking it did, although that had other benefits as well. She squinted up at the sky and a groan escaped her. Midday already. Each delay decreased their chances of getting to Bolin in time. She didn't want to think of what would happen then.

  I no longer hear his song. Heavy sorrow weighed Andrakaos's words, echoing Ciara's own.

  "I know."

  Darkness has taken him.

  "Not yet it hasn't, and we're not going to let it." One way or the other.

  Andrakaos blew out a deep sigh. I must return.

  "Return? Where? Nisair?"

  I vowed to her.

  "To Ariadne?"

  She released me from their wards so that I could aid you. The others were not pleased. They will hold her to blame if I do not return. I cannot allow that for one such as her.

  "But I need you. Bolin needs you. Can't you explain it to Ariadne? Tell her what's happening?"

  I will speak to them and tell them all we know. I cannot do so from here.

  "Tell Thadeus he was right about the magic lingering in Bolin. Tell him we need his help."

  I will tell them all we know, Andrakaos repeated, and his reassurance washed over Ciara with his words, though beneath it the sorrow lingered.

  "I can't do this without you."

  You are never without me. We are sworn.

  His focus shifted to the two men watching her. It settled first on Donovan with palpable malevolence, before sliding to Ferris with more affection. He said nothing to them, or if he did, he didn't allow Ciara to listen in. Then he launched skyward, immediately transforming into a shadowy form before disappearing from view.

  "We need to go." Ciara got to her feet with, what she felt, a minimum of unsteadiness, and walked toward the horses. "We've wasted enough time."

  "M'lady."

  "No arguments, Ferris. Whether I feel up to it or not doesn't matter."

  He scowled but tipped his head in compliance. "We'll need to double up on Beya again. Toora can only carry one."

  That suited Ciara just fine. She didn't think she could handle Toora just then. Riding behind Ferris, not having to concentrate on anything except holding on, would give her a chance to sort through the jumbled mess in her head threatening to overwhelm her. Instead, however, Ferris placed her in front of him.

  "You look a bit pale," he said, as he reached around her for the reins. "I don't want you falling off."

  "You're not looking all that rosy yourself."

  He gave a slight shrug and winced. "It's like a jigger's bite. Stings a bit, burns a little. When you're feeling up to it, I'd appreciate your tending of it, but for now, it can wait."

  He glanced in Donovan's direction, as Beya started forward at a steady walk.

  "Ferris?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Did Andrakaos say anything to you before he left?"

  He stiffened. "Aye."

  "Was it something about Bolin?"

  "In part."

  She twisted to look at him over her shoulder. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

  His gaze flicked her way then returned to a spot beyond Beya's ears. "No. And I'll ask you not to press me on it."

  "Will you promise me something?"

  "If I can."

  "Don't act on your oath unless I agree."

  He rolled his lips into a tight line, and blew out a sigh. "If I can."

  And then Beya bounded forward in a steady canter, effectively ending their conversation.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Donovan had been threatened many times over the course of his years. It seemed a failsafe for those aware of their inferiority, yet unwilling to admit it, to promise him a slow and lingering death, a quick death, or perhaps an eternity of untold torture. He paid such proclamations all the attention they deserved, which was to say, none at all.

  Andrakaos had not so much threatened him as made him a promise. One which the entity could make good on. More importantly, one he would follow through on if the general did not survive the coming maelstrom. Something not entirely within Donovan's control. Something the general himself might not chose, given the condition of his mind.

  It left Donovan in a precarious position. One course pitted him against the priestess, another against the united power of the empire, a third against Andrakaos and, by default, his own daughter. Her display in Erret Maw had been far more impressive than Donovan let on. As carelessly as she had gone into it, the working should have killed her. She had not prepared herself mentally or physically. In fact, she had not done one thing correctly. Not to say the end result had not been spectacular, raw talent often was, even if the methodology lacked finesse and forethought.

  Donovan could have aided her efforts, and very nearly did. But such a display on his behalf would have drawn the priestess's attention, and that was something he most certainly did not want. She knew Donovan would betray her. How and when were what he attempted to keep from her as long as possible. The game may have been of her making, however, that did not mean she would win. Her certainty she could not lose, would ultimately be her downfall. Though the prospect of siding with those who considered him their enemy left a sour taste in his mouth, Donovan could not allow the priestess to rule, even if such actions led to his death. That sounded far too noble for his own tastes, far too much like something the general would avow.

  True, the priestess had offered Donovan the Goddess's head, obtaining it, however, required the great Sciath na Duinne be turned. Even if that transpired, Donovan did not believe the general would ever betray his beloved mother. His devotion to the Goddess rivalled only his hatred of Donovan.

  No, Donovan would not benefit from the priestess's victory. Only in her defeat would he be able to secure his place.

  His eyes narrowed on the Sciath riding a horse length ahead of him. The man would be a hindrance. A pity the wyvern had not done more damage than it had, though Donovan would much prefer that pleasure for himself.

  Kensing Tor rose into view with the setting of the sun. A huge, jagged piece of rock jutting out of the landscape like the skeletal finger of some long dead giant. It marked what had once been a thriving village, but now existed as little more than strewn rubble. What disaster had befallen the people who had lived there, no one knew. No one living even remembered the village's actual name. The Sciath turned toward his horse to the south and slowed to a walk. He looked back, waving Donovan up alongside him.

  "We'll need to camp for the night," he said, his voice low.

  Donovan scow
led. "The ruins are no more than a league or so distant."

  "And the lady is out. Has been for half the ride."

  "Then it will matter little to her if we continue."

  "I'll not venture into the village in the deep of night on your word. We'll make camp. Before dawn, I'll go alone to scout. I like to know what I'm walking into."

  "If you are caught without me--"

  "I'll not be caught at all."

  "Can you two ever have a conversation without sounding like little boys squabbling over a toy?" Ciara asked, her voice no more than a murmur. She did not open her eyes or lift her head from where it rested against the Sciath's shoulder.

  She would be of little use to Donovan in such a state. He reached outward with his power to assess the extent of her condition, and found his efforts thwarted by the Sciath, though the man had turned his horse off to the side and appeared to be paying no attention to Donovan whatsoever. Ferris leaned in to say something to Ciara and she straightened. She waited for him to dismount before allowing him to help her from the saddle, then stood swaying beside the horse, blinking wearily as the Sciath removed a bedroll from his things and found a suitable place to spread it out. He guided her to it, and covered her with a cloak. As he started to rise, she reached for his arm to draw him back, and whatever she said drew a low chuckle from him. No trace of mirth remained when he returned to the horses.

  He reached for the mare's reins. "I'll take the horse. Why not make yourself useful for once and start a fire?"

  Donovan obliged, only because a chill breeze had picked up, blowing down from the north with enough persistence to be annoying. He watched through the dancing flames as the Sciath stripped the horses of their tack and gave them both a thorough rub down. Ferris checked on Ciara one more time before lowering himself to the ground not far from where she slept.

  "Your concern for my daughter's wellbeing is… commendable," Donovan said.

  The Sciath raised a brow. "Thinking to read something into it, then?"

  "Not at all. Though it would not surprise me in the least. My daughter seems to attract a certain manner of man."

  "Oh? And what manner would that be?"