"Goodness, girl, you'll have yourself worn out before the morning's half over," Konly said.
"I'd rather keep busy," Ciara said. "Besides, the fresh air will do me wonders. Right?"
Konly grinned. "That's what we tell our patients. But don't over-do. I don't want to come out here and find you fainted under the tree."
"I promise, no fainting."
Konly studied her for a moment longer, then nodded and went inside. Ciara checked her list and peered about the small garden with its neatly tended and orderly rows. It looked just like her aunt Meriol's garden, only much larger. An image of her aunt flittered behind her eyes. Almost two moon cycles had passed since Meriol's death and the pain still haunted her. She'd never had a chance to properly grieve, and now it seemed as though the time for that had passed by, leaving a hollowness around Ciara's heart that couldn't be filled.
And now other emotions vied for her attention. Like fear. Like the fact that they would be traveling to Nisair with Donovan hunting her every step of the way. And what had Bolin said about him having a new ally? One that worried Nialyne?
It does not worry me.
Ciara flinched at Andrakaos's voice in her head. She hadn't even thought of him.
It is impossible for you to not think of me. We are one.
She gritted her teeth and refused to engage him, willing him back to sleep. His sigh filtered through her like a quiet breeze as he nestled beneath Nialyne's blanket of magic, and she let it out as one of her own.
"Excuse me."
Ciara jumped at the unexpected intrusion, knocking her basket over. Her scowl faded as the man responsible for startling her swung his legs over the low, stone wall around the garden and dropped lightly down, coming to help her gather her scattered herbs. He wore a deep blue tabard, the Imperial crest emblazoned in silver across the front. Leather bracers covered his forearms, and a knife hung at his right hip.
"I'm really sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's all right," Ciara said. She wiped her hands on her skirt as she straightened. "I was just lost in thought."
He ran his fingers through the tangled waves of his light brown hair, sweeping it back from his face, but an errant lock seemed insistent on falling forward. He couldn't have had too many years on Ciara, but something in his clear chestnut-colored eyes made him seem far older and wiser.
"I was hoping to see Dafyd," he said.
"Dafyd?" Ciara's brow furrowed. "Oh, the guard from last night? I think he's still sleeping. He needs all the rest he can get right now."
"Is he going to be all right?"
"I believe so. If you'd like to come by later in the day, I'm sure Konly would let you see him then."
"Konly?"
"The master healer," Ciara said.
"Oh." He smiled, his cheeks dimpling. "I thought you were a bit young to be her. I'm Berk. I'm with the Imperial Guard."
"Yes, I can see that." Ciara gave a pointed look toward his uniform.
He glanced down, rubbing his jaw as he gave her a sheepish look. "Ah, I guess that is rather obvious. It's been a rough couple of days."
A sudden pang of guilt cut through her. Bolin had said the guard had been attacked on the road, and a guess set the blame on Donovan. Which likewise set the blame on her.
"I'm sorry," Ciara said.
Berk's smile faded as he glanced off into the distance. "One of our men didn't make it. He saved our lives. I'd like to see him if I could?"
"I can take you."
"I don't mean to take you away from your work," he said. "If you could just point me in the right direction..."
"I'm done here anyhow." Ciara lifted her basket from where she had set it. "Let me just take this inside."
She deposited her collection of herbs on the table, made one last check on the two wounded men, and went back out to join Berk. She gestured in the general direction of the grieving house and they started walking.
"It's beautiful here," Berk said, as they made their way along the creek bank. "It must have been a wonderful place to grow up."
"Oh, I don't live here," Ciara said. "I'm just...visiting. Actually," she chewed at her lower lip, "I think I'm why you're here."
Berk's brow furrowed. Ciara glanced up at him, uncertain if he'd be angry that she caused his friend's death.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "You're the girl we're to escort to Nisair?"
"Apparently."
"The way everyone referred to 'the girl', I assumed we were escorting a child, not a woman." His easy smile returned. "Well, that will make the trip much more enjoyable."
Ciara averted her gaze, a blush coloring her cheeks.
"Goddess's light," Berk said. "I shouldn't have been so forward. My old gram would have my hide for that. Too much time among the lads, she'd tell me, and then I'd get a wallop alongside the head." He chuckled at that. "She didn't stand much higher than my chest, but no one dared argue with her."
"It sounds as though you might have tried a time or two."
He grinned, and a light twinkled in his eyes. "I could outrun her, so I thought I was safe. Then, when I least expected it, she'd set my ears to ringing."
Ciara laughed, and it felt like the first time in ages.
***
"Looks like Berk's found a way to fill his morning," Garek said as he and Bolin made their way toward the healing house.
Bolin followed Garek's gaze, and his jaw clenched at the sight of Ciara walking with a soldier. Then she threw her head back and laughed, and an unfamiliar feeling twisted through him.
"That," he said, his voice tight, "would be the girl we're taking to Nisair."
"Girl?" Garek shook his head. "Now, I realize you're a damn sight older than me, but that, my lad, is no girl. That, in the event you hadn't noticed, which a blind man would, is a woman. And a fine looking one at that."
Bolin pulled his attention off the pair. Garek studied him as they walked, a curious expression playing across his face. When his mouth twitched in ill-concealed humor, Bolin scowled at him. "Let it be, Garek."
"So, you have noticed, then?"
"I said to let it be."
Garek threw his hands up, but the mirth remained. "Not another word. But if you'd like, I'll warn Berk off her. He's got a natural charm with the ladies."
"What part of 'let it be' sounded like a request, Commander?" Bolin slid Garek a look as dark as his mood had suddenly gotten. Most men on the receiving end of it would have headed the other direction. Garek, however, merely tucked his thumbs through his belt, and started whistling a jaunty tune, the grin still lighting up his face.
Bolin's gaze drifted back to Ciara and Berk just as a young girl ran up to them in apparent distress. She waved her arms, gesturing in the direction of the grieving house. Even from a distance Bolin could see her eyes were huge with alarm. Garek's whistle stopped mid tune. Ciara said something to Berk and sprinted after the girl. Berk spun, and when his eyes landed on Garek he started toward him at a run.
"Kort's gone," he said, as he neared.
"What do you mean, gone?"
Berk stopped in front of them, breathing hard. He waved back the way he had come. "That girl said his body's gone. Said she was charged with tending it, and when she got there this morning, the trestle was overthrown, and he was gone."
"Bloody hells."
"Go find Danya Nialyne," Bolin said to Berk, then took off after Ciara, Garek hard on his heels.
The ripple of dark magic that washed over Bolin less than five strides from the grieving house took his breath away. Garek grabbed his arm as he stumbled or he would have gone down.
"Bolin?"
He sucked in a sharp breath. Ciara stood frozen in the arched entryway, her back to them, arms stiff at her sides, fingers jutting downwards. Her earth magic swarmed around her, and Bolin felt Andrakaos stir under Nialyne's wards. He quieted the ancient power without thinking.
Ciara looked over her shoulder at him. "It's here."
; "What?"
"The creature I saw at the healing hut. It's here."
Bolin stepped up beside her and drew her out of the doorway, handing her off to Garek. "Take her out of here."
"No, Bolin, let me help."
"Go, Ciara."
Bolin peered into the building, blinking his eyes to adjust them to the gloom. The stench that assaulted his nostrils had nothing to do with the dead. It reeked of dark arts, and Bolin found it strange the wards weren't screaming in outrage. He borrowed a bit of the magic of the Greensward to illuminate the room, but it barely penetrated the unnatural darkness. Furniture had been strewn about, along with flowers and candles, everything shattered as though flung with great force.
Someone moved behind him, and Bolin put an arm out to forestall them. A figure formed in the center of the wreckage, taller and wider than Garek, made of shadow and darkness, a being pulled from the pit of the veil.
"You look for the man," it said, its voice deep and hissing. "He is mine now."
A burning sensation crawled up Bolin's left arm. "Where is your mistress?"
"You will find out soon enough. She bade me give you something."
The figure's hand jerked outward and Bolin skipped back. He deflected the surge of magic, and sent back one of his own. But the specter had vanished, and with it the gloom that had taken over the grieving house.
Nialyne stepped up beside him. "The soldier?"
"Gone."
She wrinkled her nose as she walked past Bolin, into the ruined room, and he saw her tremble. She turned to face him. Her eyes were dark. "Dominion magic."
"How is that possible?"
Her gaze drifted down to his arm, then back to his face, and Bolin felt a tremor start in his muscles.
***
"Bolin, stop."
He kept walking, striding toward the manor with Nialyne running to catch up to him, and Garek and Ciara trailing behind. The Dominion magic hadn't set off the wards because it already existed within the borders of the Greensward. Bolin had brought it in. Damn it to a thousand bloody hells, he could blame nothing but his carelessness for whatever had befallen the guard.
Bolin made it to Nialyne's study before she caught up to him. He stopped an arm's length from the table. The crystal still sat where it had been left, the Dominion magic rolling like black ooze in its center. The tremor that had started in the grieving house got worse. Bolin gripped the edge of the table and bowed his head, eyes closed, jaw clenched.
"It's not the crystal," Nialyne said.
"I know." He sucked in a deep breath, and forced himself to relax. "But I need to get it out of the Greensward just the same."
"You intend to leave now?"
He lifted his head to look at her. "Whatever's befallen that guard is my doing. As long as I'm within the Greensward that witch apparently has free access."
"Not that I'll claim to understand," Garek said from behind him, "but would anyone care to explain what on the Goddess's bloody green earth is going on?"
"In the simplest terms," Nialyne said, "Bolin was injured by a Dominion priestess. Threads of her magic have remained inside the wound and are acting as a poison of sorts."
Bolin heard Ciara's quick intake of breath and wished she hadn't followed. She came up beside him, her face contorted with concern. He couldn't make himself meet her eyes, and willed her to be gone. If he had any sense left, which recent actions suggested against, he'd tell Garek to take her elsewhere. When she laid a hand on his arm he jerked away, and put the table between them.
"A poison she can obviously use as a way to slip past the wards and enter the Greensward undetected," Bolin said.
"That creature was the same as the one I saw in the doorway of the healer's hut," Ciara said. "Isn't it possible it never left?"
Bolin shook his head. "I won't take the chance."
"Then we head out today?" Garek asked.
"I head out today," Bolin corrected. "Nialyne can lead you to the border. I'll meet you there."
"With all due respect, General...no."
"It's not up for debate."
Garek stepped forward. He spread his fingers and drummed them softly on the table top. "I'm afraid it has to be. Has it not occurred to you that's exactly what they want? To draw you out alone where they can get their hands on you? It's a little ploy most folks commonly call 'a trap'."
"I can--"
"--take care of yourself. Aye. No doubt. But you've other responsibilities besides your own hide. General."
Ciara's jaw dropped open, and Nialyne looked about to say something then wisely changed her mind. Bolin clenched his fists at his sides. Garek remained impassive, a hard glint in his eyes.
"And before you decide to lose that tightly controlled temper of yours," Garek said. "Need I remind you that my orders come directly from the Emperor. If you leave, I'll be going with you, which will put my men and these two lovely ladies in the hands of my lieutenant. Not that Sully's not extremely capable, mind you. He's just not familiar with the area." He shrugged. "But it's your choice, General."
Bolin wet his lips and eased his hands open, flexing his fingers. He addressed Nialyne without taking his eyes off Garek. "Danya, will you and Ciara give us a moment?"
Nialyne looked between the two men, and when she would have objected Bolin leveled a look at her that brought her head up sharply. Her shoulders rose as she inhaled deeply. The severity of her expression told him he'd have hell to pay later, but she took Ciara by the arm and left the study.
The door clicked shut and Garek held up his hands before Bolin could open his mouth. "You'd like to punch me in the face, I know. I'll let you have a swing if it makes you feel better. I just want you to keep in mind that I'm responsible for those men out there. One of whom has disappeared by means I won't even pretend to understand. And while you outrank me, the Emperor outranks you, whether you care to acknowledge that or not." Garek gusted out a breath and dropped his hands. "So."
Bolin could have chewed nails. "The Emperor made a good choice in sending you. There are very few alive with the audacity to talk to me like that." He kept his voice level only with effort. "One other, actually, and she just left."
He walked slowly around the table, and Garek stiffened to attention as Bolin put himself toe to toe with him. Garek stood half a head taller than Bolin, and easily twice as wide. They'd come to blows on an occasion or two, in their younger days, when the brawls typically ended in a draw followed by drinks at the local tavern.
"While I always appreciate and welcome your counsel, Commander, if our familiarity ever causes you to lose your sensibilities in company again, I'll see you're back to cleaning leather in the armory. Is that clear?"
Garek's beard rippled as he swallowed. "Aye, General. Now, since the company's gone, can I ask if you intend to maintain this snit all the way to Nisair?"
Bolin's arm twitched back. Had there been enough room between them to swing his fist, he would have. Garek grinned, and Bolin's anger expelled itself in an exasperated growl. "Goddess's blood, Garek."
The big man laid a hand on Bolin's shoulder, and his expression grew somber. "Brothers to the end, wherever it finds us, but I can't allow you to leave. It may have been years since we've seen one another, longer still since we've fought side by side, but do you honestly believe I don't know what you're thinking? You've no time to hunt the enemy down, so why not deliver yourself into his hands and hope to the Goddess you can kill him."
"It would make your journey much safer."
"Our journey. But you don't see yourself coming out of it alive, do you?" Bolin averted his gaze and Garek's hand tightened on his shoulder. "I'll put you in chains. I swear by the Mother herself, Bolin. If you give me any reason. You know I'll do it. Whatever I need to answer for after that, I'll do in the Emperor's presence."
"If I don't do this, we won't make it to the Emperor."
"And if you do it and fail? You are capable of failing. I'm not sure you're aware of that."
"Well aware," Bolin said.
A knock preceded the door swinging inward. Nialyne stepped across the threshold, but came no further. She addressed Garek without looking at Bolin. "Commander, if you would care to accompany me, I have the supply cart waiting. I'm quite sure we can be loaded and ready to leave before dusk."
"Excellent." Garek slid Bolin a warning look, and lowered his voice. "That horse of yours will be under watch as well. Any excuse whatsoever, General, and I fetch the shackles."
CHAPTER NINE
Ciara waited until Nialyne and Garek left, then poked her head into the study. Bolin stood with one arm folded across his chest, supporting the other as he stroked his chin and glowered at the crystal in the center of the table. He turned that look Ciara's way and she thought about leaving, but the expression softened.
"You should be preparing to leave," he said.
Ciara came all the way in and closed the door, leaning back against it. "I don't have much to pack."
"I'm sure Nialyne could use your help."
"She's coming with us?"
The glower returned full force. "Not by my choice."
"What Nialyne said about a poison…are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
He retreated a step for every one Ciara took towards him until she finally stopped. "Why are you doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"Running away from me."
"I'm not."
She stepped. He moved. Ciara arched her brow. "No?"
"Is there something specific you want, then?"
Oh, many, many things. "Since you asked, yes. I want to understand what happened to the guard. What that creature was. Why you think you're responsible. I want to not be scared in my own skin, or worried about Donovan finding me. I want you to stop shutting me out." She looked away, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth closed. Her tongue had gotten the better of her on that last one. She shook her head. "I'll go help Nialyne."
Ciara turned toward the door, her steps slow. She kept waiting for Bolin to call her back, to stop her before she left the study. Her fingers closed around the latch and she pulled the door inward.
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