Nialyne yelled something at Ciara in ancient Galysian, and Bolin felt Andrakaos's growl rise through his own chest as if he'd made the sound himself.
More beasts surged over the parapet. Ciara pointed and three fell before they cleared the crenel; another joined them, a screaming guard's arm in its teeth. A roar of challenge erupted out of the darkness, and the rest of them halted as Andrakaos took form out of shadows, an immense, smoky figure draped around Ciara like a billowing cape. The witch's eyes widened as his attention landed on her.
This one defies me. I will kill her.
"No." Bolin barked the word out with an effort. Goddess's light, Ciara needed no more blood on her hands. Not even from one as deserving as the witch.
Do you defy me as well?
Bolin shook his head. He clutched at the wall to keep himself upright. The witch's magic burrowed beneath his skin, squeezing his chest like a vice. He bowed his head, eyes shut as he tried to work past it. He looked up when Andrakaos rumbled. The witch had moved. Too late Bolin felt her come up behind him. She slid an arm around his waist.
"Another time," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "When you aren't surrounded by your pets."
I am going to kill you, Dark One.
"Not today, spawn of the blackness."
Yes, today.
Bolin felt her stiffen. She released him, her magic sliding from him as she backed away, keeping him between her and Ciara. Bolin sucked in a breath and whirled, already shaping the pendant's magic, strengthened by a bit of Galysian magic, into a killing blow. The witch raised a hand, but Andrakaos snarled, the ripple of his anger coursing around Bolin like molten steel. The witch leapt for the parapet, let out a screech, and disappeared into the darkness.
A rush of wind signaled Andrakaos's pursuit.
"No."
He stopped, poised on the edge of the battlement, and cocked his head at Bolin.
"No," Bolin repeated.
She is not dead.
"There will be another day."
Why do you stop me?
Bolin could see Ciara through the smoke-like manifestation of her power. She glared at him, her hands on her hips. "What are you doing? Why don't you ever let me help you?"
"Now is not the time."
"It's all right. Really. We have--" She glanced aside at something. "We have an agreement."
Bolin followed her gaze and noticed a slender chain of silver that extended from Ciara's hand to wrap lightly around Andrakaos: her earth magic, tethering them together.
"Call him back."
No.
A mix of anger and longing accompanied the single word. Andrakaos wanted his freedom. His desire for it pulsed through Bolin with his heartbeat. He could taste it, like fine wine on his tongue. The longer Andrakaos remained in this realm, the stronger he would become. The tether would not hold him then. Earth magic had never been meant for that purpose.
"There will come a day," Bolin said.
Andrakaos turned his full attention on Bolin. Shall I show you what we could be together?
"That will nev--"
Bolin sucked in a startled breath at the sudden infusion of power. Aches and pains left him, discarded like an old cloak. Strength as he had never known rippled through every muscle of his body. No fear. No worries. A single thought would eliminate his enemies. None would dare stand against him. All that he wanted would be his.
Bolin wet his lips. The ancient power danced around him, tantalizing, alluring. The spicy scent of it made his head swim. Through the haze that clouded his vision he saw Ciara, standing immobile. The wind played with her loose hair. Her eyes were large, her lips parted, the slender curves of her body outlined against the torchlight.
Yes, she will be yours as well. You know her heart, as I know yours.
Bolin swallowed. It would be so simple to give in. What harm would there be in it? And what better way to protect Ciara? Without her power the Emperor would no longer consider her a threat, and she would be nothing to Donovan. She would be free to live how she chose. She would be safe.
Together we can defeat him.
His hand lifted of its own accord.
"Bolin!"
Nialyne stepped into his line of vision, her face hard.
The Lady does not understand. She would protect you. But you need no one's protection. Not from me.
"Stop it," Ciara said. She clenched her fingers around the silver chain and tugged.
Andrakaos purred against Bolin's cheek like a giant cat. You know the words. Who here could stop you? Who besides you has the right? All your life has been spent in the service of others. Do you not wish to serve yourself? Do you not wish your own freedom? Remember that I can give you these things.
He flowed away, back to Ciara and his cavern beyond the veil.
Bolin's breath hitched. He slid his gaze from Ciara to Nialyne. The elder's eyes bore into his, and amidst the concern he saw a flicker of something else. Fear, perhaps, that he would take what Andrakaos offered? Anger that he even considered it?
Bolin opened his mouth but no words would come. He shook his head, turned on his heel and walked away.
***
Berk peered around the corner and hastily ducked back. Eight marauders strode brazenly up the middle of the street. He signaled across the street to where Garek and Rothel waited; held up five fingers, curled them, another three. The Commander leaned back to confer briefly with the Captain. Berk kept his eyes on them, waiting for the signal to move in. He flexed his fingers around the grip of his sword, rotating his wrist to keep it loose.
Beside him, Salek had sunk down to his haunches, his head bowed.
"Here and now," Sully said, his voice barely above a whisper, a reminder to focus on the task at hand and not what had happened on the wall. They could mourn their dead later. If they dwelled on it now, they'd be joining their brothers in the Halls. "Sal, on your feet."
"What if--"
"Up, boy."
Garek made a couple of hand gestures, and Berk acknowledged them. "After the rear guard we move." He relayed the command over his shoulder.
The scent of the river hung heavy in the night air. A dog barked in the distance and Berk felt Salek flinch beside him.
"Flesh and steel, Sal," he said, echoing one of the Commander's phrases.
"Aye. Flesh and steel."
Berk took a deep breath and rolled his neck. A shout went up, followed by the clash of steel, and then they were bolting into the street to trap the marauders between them and the rear guard. It should have been over quickly--they had the superior numbers--but the road around the marauders suddenly ignited. Men caught by the unexpected flames screamed, flailing in panic as their clothing caught fire. The rest fell back, but a few were trapped with nothing to do but square off and fight.
"We need a way around," Garek yelled.
"Through the alley, there." Captain Rothel pointed between the buildings, and the soldiers made a sprint for the opening.
Berk put up an arm to shield his face, peering through the glare and smoke as they ran past. Something caught his eyes and he pulled up short. His gaze locked on an all too familiar figure of a woman as she roared a challenge to the soldier facing her. Berk didn't make a conscious decision to move, he just did. Someone yelled his name as he darted toward the wall of fire, but he didn't stop. The pungent scent of singed hair filled his nostrils as he leapt through. He dropped and rolled to extinguish the flames that had caught the edge of his tabard, ducking under an axe as he gained his feet. He lowered his shoulder and caught the maruader in the guts, shoving him out of the way. Lenai had a soldier down, sword raised in a killing strike. Berk flew under her raised arm and tackled her. They tumbled across the slick cobblestones, boots scrambling as they stood at the same time, and faced off to one another.
The chieftain's eyes widened in recognition. She bared her teeth in an evil smile. "You should've killed me when you had the chance, lover."
"I intend to rectify t
hat mistake," Berk said.
Lenai held up her weapon, an Imperial blade. She looked at it, then rolled her gaze to Berk. "I took this off the boy before we locked him in the cage."
Berk swallowed the rush of rage and horror. Here and now. He shrugged. "I'll be sure to return it to his family with your head."
Lenai threw her head back and laughed. "I knew you'd give good sport."
She came at him before the last word left her mouth, a flurry of quick, hard strokes meant to off-balance him. Berk took one on his buckler and deflected the next two, turning another against her as he locked his sword handle with hers, and slammed his buckler into the side of her head. Lenai grunted and staggered away, managing to pivot just enough to avoid Berk's downward slice.
She spit blood, the grin still on her face. "You're good, dog."
She pulled her dagger and came forward again with both blades moving, the spin of steel catching the orange glow of the fire and tracing spirals through the air. Again, her assault came fast and furious. Berk batted her sword aside and barely evaded the dagger. His heel caught something, and he stumbled. The dagger flicked forward. It sliced through his tabard just below his chest, and skittered harmlessly across his mail. As the blade slid across his side, Berk clenched his arm down tightly, trapping the weapon against his body. Twisting at the waist, he bent Lenai's wrist back on itself. She cried out, and the dagger clattered to the stones.
Berk caught movement out of the corner of his eye and flipped his sword, thrusting it backwards. The impact turned him, and he hauled the man impaled on the end of the blade around to use as a shield. A short axe streaming gore swung toward his head. Berk leaned back, and thrust a foot up to shove the man off his weapon. The burn of sharpened steel slid across his forehead. Blood streamed into his eyes as he staggered, trying to keep from going down.
A horn blast echoed over the din of battle and the roar of flames that had found their way to the buildings on either side of them. The marauders broke off, disappearing down the road toward the river, scattering as they went.
"We'll need to finish this another time, lover," Lenai said.
Berk wiped his eyes and stepped in front of her as she tried to go around. "It ends here."
She growled and feinted forward then spun around and ran toward an alley. Berk slipped as he started after her, got his footing and gave pursuit. He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Lenai stood at the far end, a torch in her hand. She dipped her head toward the ground. Berk smelled it before the glistening wetness on the stone registered. They'd drenched the alley in oil, same as they'd done on the road.
"Another time." Lenai tossed the torch.
Berk whirled and ran, throwing himself out of the alley as the flames roared to life behind him.
***
"At what time did you think that was a good idea?"
Berk winced, as much at the Commander's dressing down as Sully's ministrations to the cut on his forehead. Sully looked about to say something but changed his mind in the face of a meaty finger jabbed in his direction.
"And don't you make any excuses for him, Lieutenant." The Commander dragged a hand through the madness of his hair, paced away and then back again. "We're getting mighty thin, lad, and that was damn reckless."
"She was about to kill that soldier," Berk said.
"And you wanted to personally escort him to the Halls? You didn't have numbers on your side. Since when do you go off without thinking?"
"I didn't--"
"Devils be damned, you didn't!" The bellow brought looks from those still fighting the now-contained flames.
Berk's jaw tightened. Sully caught his eye and gave a slight shake of his head, cautioning prudence.
"What were your orders?"
"I followed--"
"What," Garek clipped the word off, "were your orders?"
Berk wet his lips. "Wait on your signal, and move in together."
"Repeat the last word."
Sully squeezed his shoulder, but Berk shrugged him off, the heat rising in his cheeks. "I was just supposed to let him die? Let her add another Imperial sword to her collection?"
"You've got a personal vendetta against that one. I understand that. But if it means you can't keep your head on your shoulders, I'll relieve you of duty until we get back to Nisair."
Berk sucked in a quick breath and swallowed the retort forming in his throat. The Commander had the right of it, and it bothered him more than he cared admit. Berk had fought hard never to give into the kind of behavior he'd just resorted to: careless, reckless actions that could get himself or someone else killed.
"No excuse, Commander," he said, his voice tight. "You do as you see fit. I won't give you any argument."
The Commander nudged Sully aside and took his place, laying both his hands on Berk's shoulders. "Look, you've had a hard go of it. We get back, we're all due some leave. Until then, I need you. But only if I don't have to worry about what you're likely to do next."
"Understood," Berk said, meeting his gaze steadily. "No worries, Commander. I'll stay sharp."
The Commander studied him for a good long while before releasing him. "All right. Then get to the infirmary and get some stitches in that thick skull of yours. Sul's dabbing didn't do anything for it. You're off duty for now, both of you. Get some rest. Make sure you find Salek and take him with you."
"Yes, sir."
They walked through the streets of Broadhead in silence. Thankfully Sully didn't feel the need to add anything to the Commander's lecture. The closer to the barracks they got the more Berk's thoughts turned to Duff, and a coldness settled in his stomach. There'd be no good news there. Even Salek didn't bring it up. He looked about as numb as Berk felt, and a lot older than when they'd started the trip.
Two days to Nisair, he told himself, over and over like a sacred mantra. Goddess willing they'd make it without further incident.
They met Ciara outside the infirmary. She had a supply satchel over one shoulder. Blood and soot smeared her face and the once white healer's smock she wore. She stopped mid-step when she saw them. Her eyes caught Berk's, and the sadness and regret in them told him everything he needed to know.
"We tried," she said.
Salek choked on a sob, and Sully grabbed him by the elbow before he could slump to the ground. He drew him toward the infirmary. "Come on, Sal. Let's get you a draught to knock you off your feet."
"I'm so sorry, Berk." Ciara laid her hand on his arm.
He nodded, unwilling to risk his voice. He flinched when Ciara tugged a hair free of the caked blood on his forehead.
"You need stitches in that."
"I was on my way."
A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him, making the ground spin, and Ciara slipped an arm around his waist. "Lean on me."
He tried to pull away. "I can walk on my own."
"For about three steps," she said. "Don't be so stubborn."
"I'm not being stubborn. They need you back there." He jerked his head in the direction of the river gate, and everything went momentarily black. Then he had no choice but to throw an arm across Ciara's shoulders and let her help him before he landed on his arse. "I think I need to sit down."
Ciara mumbled something about the bull-headedness of soldiers and turned him toward a bench beneath a tree at the edge of the barrack's yard. She squatted down in front of him, peering intently at the wound on his forehead then began rummaging around in her satchel. She came up with a bottle of clear liquid and a clean cloth. Berk watched her face as she concentrated on cleaning the cut with a softer touch than Sully had managed. Beneath the soot on her face, Berk could see the lines etched around her mouth, and the shadows under her eyes. She shouldn't have such cares on her. They were for someone much older, and he couldn't help but feel he had caused some of them. That gave him more pain than any wound ever had.
"Seems you're always taking care of me lately," he said. He meant to make it sound light, but it came out laden with too much emotion.
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't say anything. They hadn't really said much to each other since escaping the marauders. Truthfully, Berk had done his best to avoid Ciara because when he saw her one of two things happened: he either had to fight the shame of memories, or the overwhelming desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. Both things plagued him now without any means of escape.
"I never thanked you for saving my life."
Ciara's hand stilled, and she tugged at her lower lip with her teeth. "I--"
She lowered her arm, and sat back on her heels without looking at him. Berk waited, worried he had said the wrong thing. Goddess knew the thought of what they'd been through, the parts he could remember at any rate, were nothing he really wanted to face. Now he'd gone and tossed them into Ciara's lap when she would probably rather not think about them herself.
He took one of her hands in his. "Goddess above, Ciara, I'm sorry."
She shook her head, still not looking at him. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Berk. You risked your life for me. All of you have, and it's all my fault. You wouldn't even be here if not for me. And it just keeps getting worse. If I would have gotten to the wall sooner, maybe I could have stopped Duff from getting killed. There ought to be one good thing I could do but everything I touch--"
Berk stood, impulsively pulling Ciara up with him, and drawing her into his arms. "There wasn't anything you could have done."
Emergence (Book 2) Page 24