“She is not—”
“Not our priority, I know. But she’s family. I’m not leaving without her.” Her daggers wouldn’t become another forgotten treasure. It was too late for the others, but he’d make sure he’d reunite at least this one stolen memory with its owner.
Kaida sighed. “Very well. I have Rachael’s necklace. I see you have her armour?”
“Yes. Now we just need to find them.”
“You are too late for that, Sparrow.”
Cale spun around. Anger filled him at that despicable voice.
“Come to gloat, Lis?”
“Not at all. I simply—”
Cale punched him square in the jaw and watched him sag to the floor. He was happy to see the ambassador’s jaw had been broken once already. It was reassuring that Rachael and Kiana weren’t too exhausted or tortured to fight back.
“How did he see me?” Cale asked. “I thought the spell protects us?”
Kaida frowned. “It does. The Dark One’s magic must be affecting mine. We need to hurry.”
Cale couldn’t agree more.
“She could be anywhere. Can you sense her?”
“No.” Kaida looked troubled at the admission. “I should be able to sense her magical energy, but there is nothing here. Either the Dark One cloaks her like I have cloaked us, or she is no longer here.”
“No longer here?” Cale grimaced. “Where else would she be?”
“It is possible she has escaped. Or— Cale. Look.” Kaida pulled out her marble-sized orb. It glowed.
“They’ve found her.” He’d never been so relieved in his life. “Let’s go before—”
“I don’t think so.”
Cephy’s voice was as black as the void. Cale drew his sword, aware of how useless it would be if she simply ignited the room.
“Where are they?” He wanted to stay calm and strong. Faced with the girl who had helped destroy a good part of his city and who had given the order to kidnap Rachael, it was hard to be either.
“You don’t need to know that.” Cephy’s palms filled with black flames. “You have more immediate concerns.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Reeve slipped into the empty house through the back door, grateful for the spell Kaida had placed over them. Ludo dashed in after him, and Reeve closed it gently so as not to make a sound. Kaida hadn’t said anything about the spell cloaking noise too; he didn’t want to find out the hard way that the villagers heard their bickering. He was good at disappearing in the shadows, but Ludo wasn’t.
“Search the house,” Reeve whispered. “Maybe we can find something useful.”
He doubted Rachael would be here when there was a massive, impenetrable temple right there. Cale could get in, if not by his own skill then with Kaida’s gift, but Rachael couldn’t get out without help. The temple was a fortress more than anything, higher than any building he’d ever seen and with only one way inside that he knew of—one guarded way inside. There was no telling how deep underground it went. Rachael could be twenty floors below for all they knew.
Ludo went into an adjacent room, and Reeve searched the one where they’d come in. The houses in the village were in dire states of disrepair. Roofs leaked, doors hung off their hinges, and the walls he’d tested crumbled under his touch. It was the worst kept prison he’d ever seen. He wasn’t surprised the villagers didn’t speak. Under the constant watch of those demons and in the shadow of that temple, they didn’t have an awful lot of hope.
Although, Reeve was surprised none of them stood up to their slavers. If this had been his prison, he’d rather die running than die a much slower death in one of these decaying houses.
He sighed and got to work. There wasn’t much to search. Three cabinets in the kitchen, one wardrobe near the door, and one chest next to the backdoor. No flowers on the table. No curtains in the window. Not even a candle on the wall. No sign at all that anyone lived here. They didn’t have much, but he’d still thought they’d try to make it feel like home. Make it more bearable while they endured, however hopeless the effort. But then, these people weren’t normal prisoners. They didn’t know how differently people lived just an ocean away. They were broken, their souls tired and minds cut off from everything that made them human.
Reeve walked towards the room Ludo had disappeared into. One step didn’t sound like the others. Hollow.
There was a space under his feet.
“Ludo, come here.”
There was no lock or handle, but there was just enough space between two floorboards that he made out a space underneath. A small, tight spot. It was heavy, but he pried the trapdoor open with three fingers between the boards.
Ludo joined Reeve. “What do you think is that?”
“I don’t know,” Reeve said. “It’s empty, so they’re not using it for storage.”
“They wouldn’t be able to store much anyway. You can barely fit three people in there.”
“Maybe that’s the point?” Reeve jumped down and regretted it. The space was too small. Too tight. Too narrow. Too—
His hands raced up to firm ground to pull himself up.
“I hear something outside the door,” Ludo said. “I think someone’s coming.”
“Get down.” It was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was either that or be found out. If he spun it right, he’d be spending an undetermined amount of time in a tight space with Ludo. Wasn’t this the excuse he’d wanted? He just needed to focus on that. He’d be fine if he just focussed on that.
Ludo jumped in next to him and pulled the trapdoor shut. Reeve’s heart raced. Too little space. No room to move, no way to—
Ludo took his hands. “It’s okay. We won’t be here long. Look at me, Reeve.”
He did as he was told while his mind tried to spin out of rationality. Ludo’s blue eyes held him captive and calmed his breathing.
“There you go. Just keep looking at me.” Ludo grinned. “I knew I was the solution to your problems.”
Reeve wanted to punch him in the arm but there was no room.
Above them, a door opened and closed. Footsteps followed.
Silence save for his heart and Ludo’s breathing close to his.
Ludo nodded to the wall to his right. Reeve blinked while his eyes adjusted; someone had drawn a tally. The current count was five. It looked like someone had used their hand to wipe over an old count and drawn the new one over it.
“What are they counting, do you think?” he whispered.
Ludo shrugged. “Times they got cosy down here?”
“I doubt it’s anything as lovely as that.”
“Lovely, is it?” Ludo raised an eyebrow. Stepped even closer. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Reeve wanted to look away, anywhere but into those blue eyes, but there was nowhere else to look. If he focussed on the walls, they closed in around him until they suffocated him. If he focussed on Ludo’s eyes, they’d drown him until they did the same.
He chose Ludo.
“I can’t stand this.”
They both looked up. The man’s voice was muffled and quiet, but they were the first words they’d heard since they’d entered the village—apart from the screaming from before, that was. If someone chose to speak now, it had to be important.
“Ssh!” A younger voice. Female. “What if they hear you?”
“Does it matter? They’ll kill us eventually.”
“That’s our purpose.” She sounded unsure. “He needs our blood.”
“You don’t believe that.”
Hesitation. “I have to.”
“It’s been five days since they took the last one. Most of the Mothers are in the temple. We have to go now, while we can.”
Reeve shivered and looked back at the tally. Five strikes. Five days.
“What about the ones raiding the village right now?”
“It’s better than nothing. We can escape out the backdoor, they’ll never know if we hurry and disappear in the forest.” Urgency
crept into his voice with every word. “Please. This is the first time in how long they haven’t watched every house carefully? If we don’t go now—”
Her sigh sounded tired. “And go where?”
“Malia. It’s not far, we can swim across.” So, some of them had hope after all. But how far would it get them? Two steps? Six?
Her voice shook as much as Reeve’s legs when she spoke again. “You know we’ll die if we go. The snake will eat us.”
“There’s no snake large enough to do that.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t—”
Their door opened, and her breath hitched. That screech Reeve had come to hate so much filled the following silence.
“No. Please.” The man’s voice wavered.
Ludo reached up to the trapdoor, but Reeve pulled his arm back. Reeve shook his head. They didn’t know how many demons there were. The risk was too high.
A nauseating sound filled the house. Blood trickled through the gap onto Ludo’s forehead and onto Reeve’s hair.
Onto the five strikes the man had made.
Reeve hadn’t realised that he and Ludo were holding each other until Ludo let go.
They stayed quiet until the blood no longer dripped and the shadows above seemed lighter again.
“Why did you stop me?” Ludo whispered. “We could have helped them.”
“We’re not here for them, Lu. We’re here for Rachael.”
Ludo smiled. “You called me Lu again. Does this mean we’re married now?”
Reeve returned his smile. “No, but—” He wanted to say that he cared about Ludo. He wanted to tell Ludo that he wanted to try. He wanted to hold him now and for the rest of his days. But Reeve wasn’t any good with words, and he was no good with relationships either, so the words died unspoken on his lips. Somehow, with the screams still echoing in his ears and the blood dried in his hair, the moment didn’t feel right.
His pocket warmed. He pulled out the tiny orb at the same time Ludo looked at his. They glowed orange. Someone had found Rachael.
“We should get back,” Reeve said.
Ludo pulled away and nodded. “Shame we didn’t learn anything.”
“We did,” Reeve said, pondering what the woman had said. “Whether it’ll help is for Cale to decide.”
They opened the trapdoor and left the same way they’d come, leaving everything he wanted to say to Ludo to die next to the man’s hopes of freedom.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cale ripped his sword from its scabbard. At the same time, Cephy’s magic roared to life. Hungry black flames shot away from her, devouring everything in their path.
Kaida’s gift formed a barrier around her and Cale seconds before Cephy’s magic would have burnt them to black ashes, but even with Kaida’s protection, the heat was intense. It sizzled just beyond their shield. One step too far ahead and Cale would burn.
The sheer force of Cephy’s gift fuelled by the Dark One’s own power kicked up a current of air. Kaida’s dress, usually perfectly following the lines of her shape, fluttered in the malevolent wind. Cale’s hair whipped around and obscured his view. Mothers swarmed into the room. Cephy’s eyes had turned black. Dark tendrils not unlike the Mothers’ snaked away from her in wispy lengths. She hissed.
Cale gripped his sword and ground his teeth. How was he supposed to fight an enemy like that? The girl before him was no longer the little girl he’d allowed into his house. She was too powerful for his blade. Even without her, the demons would have outnumbered them.
“Any plans, dragon?”
“Only one, but I need time.” There was an edge to Kaida’s calm voice. Cale cursed; he’d never heard her troubled before.
“That’s the one thing we don’t have, if you hadn’t noticed.”
Cephy sneered. “I would end this quickly, for old time’s sake, but we need your blood.”
The voice was no longer hers. Dark tones had overpowered her innocence.
“To enslave the world, right?” Cale said. Kaida needed to hurry up. He’d known this was a possibility, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to discuss world peace with the Dark One.
“That doesn’t concern you,” He said. “You’ll be dead.”
When Kaida had cast big spells before, she had chanted or whispered or done something. Right now, she just stood next to him, eyes focussed on something he couldn’t see. She looked determined, but for all he knew her mind had left her body and abandoned him to die alone.
“You’re wrong.” Cale said. He had to keep the Dark One talking. “It does concern me, and I can’t let it happen.”
The monster laughed. “You think yourself strong, but look around you. My servants surround you. You cannot match my power.”
“Dogs are superior to ticks in every way, but one tick can still kill a grown dog.”
It grinned. Cephy’s face, obscured by shadows, twisted into a horrible mask. “You think to fight me? We will see how long you can keep that sharp wit of yours once you’re in my grasp.”
Cale frowned at Kaida. “Any time now, dragon.”
“Do not distract me.” Her voice was strained. Whatever she was preparing was costing her a great deal of strength.
“You bring an Ancient to this fight,” the monster said, “but it won’t save you. After all, it had the choice once before and chose itself.” Kaida hissed, whether under strain or something else Cale couldn’t tell. “I am the ruler of the Mists. You will never control my domain. You will never have more power.”
“And yet there you are, on the other side of the barrier. You can talk all you want, but she’s keeping you out.”
The Dark One grimaced, shadows flaring higher. He was proud. Perhaps Cale could exploit that.
“Not for much longer,” He said.
Ahead of him, right before Cale’s eyes, the shimmering barrier cracked. It was a small scratch, but he feared what a greater blow might do.
Kaida had once again gone silent.
“Since neither of us is going anywhere,” Cale said, “you can answer a few questions. Why do you need Rachael’s blood? Couldn’t you kill anyone and be done with it?”
“I owe you no answers, mortal.”
“Does it matter if you’ll kill me anyway?”
“You underestimate me, but I am no fool.”
“I always wondered at people who felt they needed to point that out.”
A pulse of energy hit Kaida’s shield. The crack spread.
Cale swore under his breath. “I never underestimate my enemies, and neither should you.”
The creature in Cephy’s body laughed. “You are nothing to me.”
“I have already pointed out that our defences are keeping you out, right?”
A sickening crack above told him that the barrier was weakening. The Dark One hadn’t done anything this time. The crack was growing on its own. How long did they have? How much longer could he distract the Dark One? Or was the Dark One working through their conversation, able to focus on two things at once? Cale looked up, his heart hammering. The crack slowly ate through the shield. If another energy pulse hit them…
“As I was saying,” Cale said, “I don’t underestimate my enemies. But I do wonder if you’re not as sure of victory as you show yourself to be. What does it matter if you tell me why you want Rachael’s blood? You said it yourself, I’m nothing to you. Unless you know we have a chance of escaping?” He smiled. “Or of defeating you?”
Mothers crawled onto the barrier from all sides. Cale’s eyes followed the crack as it widened and stretched like thin ice on a lake—and he’d just jumped into the middle in full heavy armour.
“Kaida—”
To his left, a Mother turned its arm into a sword. Rammed it into the barrier once.
Twice.
“Kaida.”
Pierced it on the third hit.
Their only protection shattered. The room exploded in light and dark.
Cale raised his sword. He couldn’t win,
but he wouldn’t die without trying. The least he could do was take down as many Mothers as he could while they tore at him.
Then his stomach lurched, something heavy crashed into him, and everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rachael kept her eyes on the dark forest outside their small camp. Cale was still out there, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong.
Lon kept an eye out for their missing Sparrows, but so far neither of the two groups had returned.
Desma nodded to the spot on the log next to Rachael. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Rachael had hoped to talk to her. Desma had worked closely with Erimentha, and since Kleon was back in Rifarne, Desma was the best person to talk to about Rachael’s mother. Now that Desma offered, however, Rachael didn’t know what to ask.
“Go ahead.”
Desma sat and observed the shadows with her for a moment. “I miss her.”
“At least you knew her.”
Desma’s smile was sad. “I was lucky to. Your mother was a strong woman. Loyal and fierce, even after Lis tamed her.”
Rachael frowned. “She wasn’t an animal. She was a human being.”
“Of course, but you saw how he treated her. To you and me, she was a person. To him, she was a tool.”
An old ache she had once thought buried stung Rachael’s heart. “She wasn’t anything to me. She left me to die when I was a child.” She hadn’t even known her mother was alive until Erimentha had hummed that lullaby with her final breaths. Even speaking her name hurt.
Rachael didn’t know why she sounded angry. She thought she’d come to terms with losing a mother she’d never known, but it seemed her resentment ran deeper than that.
Desma turned away from the forest and looked at Rachael. “She only did that to—”
“To protect me, I know. That doesn’t make years of feeling abandoned go away.” Rachael choked and stared at the ground next to her feet. This was too personal.
“I thought you might have questions,” Desma said. “About my lady Erimentha, I mean. Who she was beyond the collar and bruises.”
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