by Lucy Hounsom
Or she might die.
Kyndra’s heart beat wildly in her ears. The world swam with the effort of keeping the star out. She couldn’t allow him to see the truth, even if it meant her death. There was far more at stake. Ma! she screamed, throwing her last strength into the call. Help me! Then, before her will failed, Kyndra took a running leap and hurled herself into the abyss.
21
Brégenne
They’d put the pass and the battle behind them, making camp in a sheltered cradle between two peaks. Rikr’s surviving soldiers had for the moment been divested of weapons and now sat in a subdued group, dressing their wounds and cleaning their armour. Brégenne suspected they’d have shown the same silent discipline if they’d won the battle and were still part of the Fist.
‘Is it bad?’ she heard Kait ask. The tall woman knelt beside Nediah, one hand on his shoulder, as he eased the arrow out of his leg. The sun had all but left the sky; Brégenne knew the fitful flicker of Solar energy around Nediah’s hands would do little to lessen his pain. She swallowed, resolutely continuing with her own healing. Hu’s wound wasn’t serious, but the black-cloaked man watched with a dewy gratitude in his eyes.
Brégenne snatched another glance in time to see the arrow come free. Nediah tossed it to the ground, gritting his teeth as the blood ran anew down his thigh. ‘Could be worse,’ he said. ‘Sun’s not high enough to heal it now.’
Kait ripped a long strip off her shirt. When she bent to tie it around the wound, Nediah plucked it out of her hands. ‘I shouldn’t have done it,’ he said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ned.’
His face darkened. ‘Killing is hardly ridiculous, Kait.’
‘You saved us. The Republic were barely holding their own.’
Nediah gave the ends of the rag a fierce tug; it soaked through in seconds. He said nothing.
‘That rockfall was inspired.’ Crouching, Kait placed a hand on his knee. Brégenne stiffened. ‘And you managed to shield everyone again. If it weren’t for you, they’d have slaughtered us.’
Nediah slowly unclenched his fists. ‘That doesn’t make it better.’
Hu gasped and Brégenne realized she held his injured arm in a death grip. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, calming the last of the swelling.
‘You’ve always been like this,’ Kait said fondly. She stroked some hair out of Nediah’s eyes. ‘Even when you played along with me, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.’ She grinned. ‘My conscience.’
Enough.
‘It’ll be fine now,’ Brégenne growled at Hu before standing and crossing over to the pair of them. The strength of her anger shocked her. ‘Nediah.’
He looked up at her warily. She’d said very little to him since the night of their argument – that night made her feel at turns embarrassed and newly outraged. Now there was a whole host of things Brégenne wanted to say, all bottled up inside and clamouring to be set free. ‘You,’ she snapped at Kait. ‘Get out of my way.’
Kait’s eyes widened and then swiftly narrowed. She did not move, but kept her hand firmly on Nediah’s knee. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I won’t ask again.’ Brégenne still held the Lunar after healing Hu; power dripped from her fingers like quicksilver. She drew down a little more for emphasis.
‘Why?’ Kait asked suspiciously.
‘Why do you think? Because I’m not about to let Nediah bleed to death.’
‘Brégenne,’ Nediah removed Kait’s hand from his knee and straightened his leg, though it clearly caused him pain. ‘I’m fine. The tourniquet will slow the bleeding enough to last until dawn.’
‘That’, she said crisply, ‘is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘Brégenne—’
‘Be quiet. You,’ Brégenne directed at Kait, ‘go away and give me some room.’
Kait met her eyes. They stared defiantly at one another until Brégenne was sure the other woman would strike her, Solar or no Solar. Then Kait glanced at Nediah and the sodden bandage around his leg. ‘Fine,’ she muttered, standing. ‘Don’t take all night.’
She went to sit on a rock with a clear view of them both. Thankfully, Mercia wandered over to talk to her. Now that she was gone, Brégenne felt a bit chagrined and looked back at Nediah, scowling. ‘Keep that leg elevated. Some healer you are.’
Nediah smiled, but it was wan. Brégenne could tell he was still thinking about the rockfall and the soldiers he’d killed. ‘Kait’s right,’ she said, surprising herself.
‘That’s something I never thought to hear.’
‘We were going to lose. You did what you had to do.’
‘Yes, well.’ Nediah lowered his eyes. ‘It’s nothing to be celebrated.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Brégenne agreed. She unwound the bandage and sent her awareness into the wound. ‘This isn’t too bad, actually.’
‘I did tell you.’
She ignored this and began knitting the torn flesh. She couldn’t heal as neatly as Nediah, but at least he wouldn’t be in pain. ‘You’re good, you know,’ he offered when new pink skin had replaced the ugly wound. ‘You just need a bit more practice.’
‘I need more than that,’ Brégenne muttered. His thigh was hot beneath her hands; she felt an echoing heat in her face, a desire to slide her fingers further over his skin. She hastily pulled away.
Nediah made a grasping motion, as if he’d intended to catch hold of her. ‘Brégenne,’ he said, his gaze hesitant. ‘About the other night—’
‘You’re done, I see.’ Kait returned to stand over them, trailing an exasperated Mercia in her wake. The Sartyan woman rolled her eyes at Brégenne as if in apology. Brégenne felt her anger prickle anew. She rose smoothly and, without a backward glance, went to see to the other injured, trying not to wonder what Nediah had been about to say.
‘Even with Rikr’s men, we’re too few to strike directly at Parakat,’ Hagdon said a few days later. They were almost in spitting distance of the fortress, concealed by the snowy troughs and peaks of cliffs – a bleak backdrop, Brégenne thought. Their fire was small, but necessary; winter had firmly sunk its claws into the north.
‘I can’t believe you’re even factoring them into our plans,’ Kait said, tugging her gloves on more snugly. ‘They were quite content to kill us a few days ago.’
‘Sartyans don’t work well without orders to follow,’ Mercia said. The lieutenant was leaning back against a rock, looking quite at ease amidst the unforgiving landscape. She was a northerner herself and used to this cold. Brégenne shivered, reminded of her time in Ümvast. ‘Rikr’s men are without a commander,’ Mercia continued, ‘and they owe us their lives.’
‘I still think we should have killed them,’ Kait rejoined. ‘At least let’s not make them part of the assault.’
‘We ought to be able to keep ten soldiers in check,’ Hagdon said. ‘Still, if you’re concerned, I put them under your command. Feel free to dispose of them at the first whiff of treachery.’
Kait looked slightly mollified. ‘Getting back to the matter at hand,’ Hagdon added, ‘I don’t think we’ve much choice but to follow our original plan.’
‘If they’ve received word of my joining you –’ Mercia began.
‘I was looking at Rikr’s face when he answered. He, at least, believed they haven’t.’
‘Hagdon, they could turn on me the moment I cross that threshold.’
‘They won’t let you armed into Parakat,’ Hagdon said firmly. ‘If they believe you a traitor, that is.’ He paused. ‘Rumour, however, tends to travel faster than truth. Be prepared.’
‘Have you decided on timing, Commander?’ Brégenne asked him. ‘If you want Kait to fight and Nediah on hand to heal, it’ll need to be after dawn. If anything goes wrong, however, you’ll need me to get your forces across the chasm.’
‘I’ve given this some thought,’ Hagdon said, scratching his cheek through the dark growth of beard. ‘Mercia and Irilin can’t act straightaway. They’ll need
to maintain the charade long enough to learn as much about the Parakat garrison as possible. I need numbers.’ He glanced at Mercia. ‘All the information you can gather.’
‘If they buy our story, we’ll be separated,’ Mercia said. ‘Irilin will be put with the prisoners.’
‘That means I’ll be able to warn them of our assault.’
Brégenne thought Hagdon might have suppressed a shiver at her words. He looked away, that shadow once again in his face. ‘I think you should approach at midnight,’ he said.
‘Bit suspicious,’ Mercia replied with a grimace. ‘Why would a patrol travel so late?’
‘They’ll have spent the last fortnight out in this.’ Hagdon gestured at the snowy sky. ‘If you knew a decent bed, fire and food awaited you nearby, would you stop or continue on?’
Mercia smiled slowly. ‘Good point. All right.’ She looked around at them all. We’ve a few hours before we move. Let’s make the most of them.’
He was sitting alone as twilight fell, watching the western sky – a pose Brégenne herself adopted while she waited for the moon to return her to power. It was a rare moment; he wasn’t often alone. Kait kept an irritatingly possessive eye on him most of the time, especially since the battle the other day. But tonight she was training with Mercia, sharing her knowledge of swordplay with the other woman. They seemed to get along well.
Nediah warmed his hands over a dying golden flame. It winked out as she approached and, without thinking, Brégenne replaced it with one of her own.
He started at the Lunar light and twisted around to look. They stared at each other. A few seconds passed before Brégenne went to sit beside him, stretching out her legs. For a while they said nothing at all. The sun sank and the sky cleared, revealing stars for the first time in days. ‘You know,’ Nediah murmured finally, with a nod to them, ‘Hagdon said that before the ambertrix shortage, every Acrean city blazed with light. It hid the stars.’
The rising moon cast his profile in shades of silver and shadow. It was the way Brégenne had always seen him, achingly familiar. ‘I can’t imagine how that must have looked,’ she said.
Gaze still turned upward, Nediah said, ‘Sometimes I wonder what it’s like for Kyndra. To us, the stars are … well, part of the night. But to her, they have names, abilities.’ He shook his head. ‘Starborn really aren’t like Wielders at all.’
‘I miss her,’ Brégenne said honestly. ‘So strange to think that without her, we wouldn’t be sitting here –’
‘– in Acre, about to storm a fortress,’ Nediah added somewhat wryly. ‘Everything is different.’ He paused, looked at her, a little of his earlier hesitation in his eyes. ‘You’re different.’
‘Me?’ This is going to be about Kait, she thought with a sinking feeling.
‘Well,’ Nediah said, ‘the clothes, for starters.’
Brégenne blinked and, after a moment, she laughed. ‘Why does that upset everyone so much? It’s not as if I’m walking around in a ball dress. Alandred nearly choked when he saw me.’
She regretted the words as soon as they were out, knowing any mention of Alandred tended to raise Nediah’s hackles. But he only gave a suggestive chuckle. ‘I bet.’
Brégenne felt a blush on her cheeks and hoped the evening hid it. ‘I’m not the only one who’s different,’ she said.
Nediah nodded. ‘I suppose that’s true. I feel like I’ve seen and done more in the last month than in my entire life.’
‘You’re not alone.’ She leaned back on her hands. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever have to escape a group of Wielders by catching hold of a rope ladder as it swung past my head, before being hauled onto the deck of an unchained airship.’
‘What?’ Nediah sounded delighted.
‘Didn’t I tell you that bit?’ No, she realized hollowly. Their argument had put paid to any amicable reunion they might have had.
He grinned. ‘I don’t think so.’
Brégenne pushed regret aside. ‘Argat saved the day,’ she said, remembering how the Eastern Set had swept her away from harm. ‘Without him, Gareth and I would never have escaped the Council’s Wielders.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Brégenne, you’re a third of the Council.’
‘Veeta and Gend probably replaced me the second I left.’
They sat in silence for a time. Brégenne sensed a strange tentativeness about their conversation, as if they were forging a new trail across one already blazed.
‘I’ve missed this,’ Nediah said then. ‘I’ve missed you.’
Quite suddenly, Brégenne recalled the dream she’d woken from in Astra’s house. With a pang, she remembered how it had felt to stand within the circle of his arms, to shiver at the brush of his fingertips across her bare shoulder. The flush returned to her cheeks, but she forced herself to say, ‘What about Kait?’
They were sitting close, so close that her skin prickled. ‘What about her?’ Nediah said a bit too casually.
She couldn’t look at him. ‘All this time she’s been here with you. I thought …’
‘What?’
Despite her best efforts, the words found their way out. ‘She’s in love with you.’
Nediah was silent. ‘I know,’ he said finally, quietly.
Brégenne looked back at him, wanting to ask whether he felt the same, but, fearful of his answer, she couldn’t bring herself to voice it. The chill wind wrapped them both, deepening with the onset of night.
‘Brégenne.’ Nediah seemed to be searching for something in her eyes. ‘Why do you care about Kait? When we were in Naris, the night they broke our bond …’ He swallowed. ‘When you said you felt – did you mean it?’
It was back – her uncertainty, her hope and fear bound into a terrible knot. It was building a wall between them. Brégenne’s throat dried. All those words inside her and she couldn’t speak any of them.
But she didn’t want him to go.
With a sigh, Nediah stood. Brégenne jumped up too, almost colliding with him. Her heart felt like it would push its way out of her chest; louder than the wind’s whistle, he must be able to hear it.
As Nediah began to turn away, she caught his hand. Neither of them was wearing gloves and the effect of skin on skin sent a shock through her, like the sweet stab of drawing more power than she could hold. They locked eyes, locked hands.
‘… Ready?’ came a distant voice. ‘We’re moving into position.’
Brégenne wanted to stay there, wanted to move her hand to his face, to trace his lips with a finger, to have those lips on hers. There were so many things she wanted, as they stood there, touching, hearing the sounds of their comrades gathering for battle.
Perhaps Nediah saw it in her eyes, for his own widened, and he raised his other hand to her cheek, brushing back an escaped curl, just as he’d done that night on the spire in Naris. This time, she leaned in to his touch. He swept his thumb across her cheekbone and Brégenne barely breathed, frightened to move lest he stop.
She’d drawn close enough to feel the flush in his skin when the scrape of boots on rock intruded. Guiltily, they jumped apart. Brégenne somehow expected it to be Kait, but it was Irilin. The young woman wore a small smile. ‘There you are,’ she said. ‘We’re ready to go.’
‘Right,’ Brégenne muttered. Cold curled around the hand he’d been holding; almost regretfully, she pulled on her gloves. Nediah, she saw, still looked a little wide-eyed. ‘Is everyone ready?’
‘As much as they can be.’ Irilin stuck her own hands under her armpits. ‘I wish it wasn’t so damn cold.’
‘And you?’ Nediah asked. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
Irilin gave a hard nod. ‘Who else is going to be Mercia’s prisoner? Only Brégenne and I are Lunars and she has to remain here. The plan depends on me.’
‘That doesn’t mean you can’t back out.’
‘Actually, it does.’ Irilin held his gaze, unflinching. ‘I said I would do it. I can do it.’ She paused, added softly, ‘And if I die, we
ll, it’s in the name of a worthy cause.’
‘I don’t think Hagdon would like that,’ Brégenne said. ‘Or allow it.’
Irilin just shrugged.
They made their way back to camp to find it packed up. Hagdon led Irilin’s horse over, silently offered his cupped hands to help boost her into the saddle. She accepted the offer with a murmured, ‘Thank you.’ The commander’s eyes were haunted as he settled into his own saddle and he darted frequent glances her way.
They rode down a slope and up a shallow incline, Brégenne lighting the way for the horses, until Mercia reined in. ‘Parakat lies beyond that summit,’ she said, pointing towards the dark lip of the slope. ‘We’ll separate here. After we’re in, don’t carry a light to the top,’ she added to Brégenne. ‘It’ll be a beacon to any sentries.’
‘Torches,’ Hagdon snapped, the command full of the Sartyan general. Mercia’s men heard it and immediately set about lighting the torches that would announce their presence to the fortress garrison. Mercia raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.
They were ready. There was no putting it off.
Hagdon seemed to be struggling with something. In the end he went to Irilin, who had dismounted, and took her arm. She looked up, clearly surprised. ‘Aberrations are not as strong as you,’ he said tightly. ‘They rarely fight back – they don’t know how.’ His voice dropped lower. ‘You will have to play your part.’
‘I know my part,’ she said, but her usual defiance was lacking. Perhaps, Brégenne thought, Irilin was remembering how Hagdon had described the conditions in Parakat, the horrors suffered by its inmates. She felt a flicker of worry.
‘It won’t be for long,’ she said – to herself as much as to Irilin. ‘As soon as things have died down, Mercia will lower the drawbridge for the rest of us.’
Hagdon still held the young woman’s arm. ‘If I see them hurt you,’ he said quietly, ‘I will come for you and damn the plan.’
Irilin stared at him a moment, a low flush in her cheeks and then she pulled her arm free. She went to Mercia, held out her crossed wrists and the lieutenant bound them, attaching a long piece of rope which she tied to her saddlebow. Hagdon watched stonily.