Recurve

by Shannon Mayer

  “You Enders always think you’re so tough. But there is a truth all healers know. It hurts far more to heal a wound, than to be wounded in the first place. When you heal, you are aware, and you must consciously take the steps to put things aright. When you are cut open, there is always some strong emotion tied to it. Fear. Anger. Passion. Those emotions hide the pain of the injury, which is why many don’t seek help until the wound festers. By then, it is a great deal harder to mend.” His eyes met mine, and I had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about my bones.

  “I can handle it.” I lifted my chin.

  “I can’t hold her down,” Cactus said. “I’ll throw up on her if I smell that tonic.”

  Great, down the one friend I had.

  Even so, Ash put his hands on my shoulders. “I’ve been at the end of their tender mercies. Trust me, you want someone to hold you down.”

  Smit tipped the vial to my lips, the smoke curling up my nose making me gag. “Drink it all. You throw it up and we’ll have to dose you again.”

  Rotten eggs and a heavy layer of wood smoke coated my tongue and I gagged, but kept the vile tonic in. Then it hit my bloodstream.

  The term “light me on fire” had never held so much meaning. My veins pulsed with heat that scorched along nerve endings, through muscles and bones, as if my entire body had been dunked into boiling water and had the same liquid shot through my innards. I fought the urge to arch, to keep my back flat on the bed, but it was so very, very hard. Tears leaked from my eyes as my knee put itself back together.

  Teeth clamped shut, I sought something to focus on, something to ground myself with. Cactus was across the room, his back to me, his body trembling—the coward. Smit had already turned away to some other task.

  Which left Ash.

  I grabbed his forearms as a spasm of fire raced through me, a gasp slipping past my lips.

  “It will be over quickly, just breathe.”

  I stared up at him, tracing the shape of his face with my eyes. Dark gold lashes, a scar over his left eye so faint I’d not noticed it before, a sharply angled jaw line, ears tight to his head, but the left one had a nick out of the top, maybe it happened when he got the scar over his left eye. I’d have to ask him. I sucked in a deep breath, the fire in me blazing around my busted up knee. Full lips, straight teeth, and a strong profile, nose a little on the crooked side with a bump in the ridge, probably another injury. Air escaped me in a whoosh, and the heat in my body slowed a fraction.

  Honey eyes, he had liquid honey for eyes that no doubt burned hot when he made love to someone. My eyes flew wide, shock hitting me hard. I pulled my hands from his forearms, the heat still burning through me, but not with the intensity it had started with.

  “Thanks, I think the worst has passed.”

  “Can you stand?”

  I slid sideways, ignoring the fact that my body still wrestled with the potion Smit had given me. “No, but I can talk-k-k-k-k-k.” The stutter at the end hit me alongside a particularly sharp pain in my knee. I clamped a hand around it.

  “Smit, what do we have to do to convince you to give us the cleansing fire?” I bit out the words. I massaged my knee, tried to focus on what we were here for and not the draining effect the healing was having on me.

  The healer let out a sigh. “I am a healer, and you now that my first and most important oath is to help any who ask for it.”

  Ash tensed beside me, though I didn’t know why. What Smit was saying was what we were banking on.

  I forced myself to my feet. “Yes, we know that, and know we’re begging for your help.”

  Smit gave me a soft, sad smile. “I would help you if I could, truly, you must believe that. But there is a small problem.”

  I swallowed, praying to the mother goddess that the problem was indeed small, that it would be easily surmountable. A fee for his services, a favor given in return, a reward. Anything.

  Orange eyes met mine. “The cleansing fire has been taken by another. Apparently, you are not the only ones plagued by plague.”

  I was standing without realizing it. “Who . . . who took the cleansing fire?”

  Wiping his hands on a thick white towel, he tucked the edge of it into his belt. “The Sylph’s had one of their Enders come for the fire just this morning.”

  Jaw clenched, I didn’t realize I was walking toward Smit until I looked down at him, seeing the bald spot on the top of his head, spreading out like a cancer. “What was his name?”

  I didn’t really have to ask his name; I already knew.

  Smit looked at me, then to Ash and back to me.

  “Wicker.”

  Chapter 17

  The Sylph’s name echoed in the room. You could have heard a pinworm hit the floor.

  “Do you know him?” Cactus crossed to me, his nose wrinkling as he drew too close and got a whiff of the healing tonic. A gag curled him away from me.

  I nodded. “Yes, he killed Bramley.” I whispered the truth out loud and behind me I felt Ash stiffen. Cactus laughed, though it was forced. “Lark, I heard about your delusions once I was here, that you tried to make it out that Cassava killed your mother and little brother. But I had no idea it had gone so far—”

  “They are not delusions¸ half-breed. You were there, Cactus,” Ash said, his voice soft and deadly. “You were there that day and Cassava stole your memories. She blocked Lark from reaching her powers and left me to carry the knowledge, knowing no one would believe an Ender’s word against a queen’s.”

  Cactus looked from me to Ash. “She’s convinced you too? Shit, that’s partly why I was taken away, you know. She kept trying to get me to believe this dream she had was reality, and not what had happened. The lung burrowers swept through, the same as they are now. People die; that is life. Get over it.” His words were harsh and I realized he was not the boy I’d grown up with. I didn’t know him anymore. I backed away, bumping into Ash.

  “We have to go. Thank you for your help, both of you.”

  Smit cleared his throat. “If you are going to find this Ender who took the cleansing fire, I will give you a piece of advice. He was not going back to the Eyrie.”

  My eyes shot to the healer. “What do you mean?” And how in the seven hells could he know that?

  Smit blushed. “He dropped a note on his way out, I tried to get it to him, I did. But he left before I could . . . .” He dug into his pocket and held out a thin piece of paper, crumpled and stained. I took it from him and read it, horror filling me. I handed it to Ash.

  “Son of a bitch in heat. She’s going to kill your father,” Ash whispered.

  The note’s words were imprinted on my mind.

  Take the fire to the eastern front. Wait ‘til the worms are deep in the king. Then release the fire.

  “Won’t that cure him, though?” Cactus took the note and read it over before handing it back to Smit.

  The healer shook his head. “No, when the lung burrowers have gone on too long, they become too deeply ingrained into the host. They can still be killed, stopped from getting into anyone else, but when they die, the host dies too. If they use the fire right away, most of your people should be safe. If not . . . .” He shrugged, but it wasn’t dismissive, but more of a regretful gesture. “I’m sorry. It is not my place to meddle in the affairs of the other families.”

  Ash held a hand out to Smit, grasping the shorter man’s hand and shaking. “Thank you. Be careful, we don’t know who all is in on this plot.”

  And there it was, the truth of what we were facing was a plot indeed. A conspiracy to kill my father, which would allow Cassava to take over as ruler and head of our family. She would have me killed, no doubt, Fern and her unborn baby, and anyone else who opposed her. Probably Niah and Griffin too. I glanced at Ash. Would he be killed? I wasn’t so sure. Belladonna would probably try to have him trussed up in her bedroom.

  The sound of running footsteps snapped my head up. That was not good. “They know we’re here.”

  As
h crooked a finger at me and I moved to grabbed hold of his left arm. Cactus grabbed me from behind, yanking me to a standstill. “If there’s trouble, I’m coming with you.”

  Except all he did was slow us down. Ash made a grab for me, but Cactus inadvertently held me back, one arm around my shoulders, the other clinging to my left hand. “Cactus, let me go!”

  From outside the room a clatter of weapons being drawn sliced through the air. Ash lunged for us. “Give the princess to me, half-breed,” he snarled.

  I spun, struck a leg out sideways and tipped Cactus over my hip, sending him crashing to the floor. He laid there, his mouth gasping open and closed like a landed fish. But we were too late, Cactus had screwed us over whether he realized it or not. I straightened and turned. Four Enders faced us, Maggie had brought back up. They cut between us, in seconds, making it impossible for Ash to use the armband without leaving me behind.

  Ash backed up a step so he could pull his sword. “Maggie, we were just leaving.”

  “Not without a visit to the queen’s dungeon, my friend.”

  Ash stiffened. “Weapons only then, Ender. No abilities.”

  Maggie tipped her head ever so slightly. “Let it be.”

  I pulled my spear, rolling the shaft in my hand, “To your left, Ash,” I said, sidestepping that direction. He shifted his weight and the tension grew as the six of us weighed each other.

  I knew the older Enders would recommend taking it slow in a fight like this, where we were outnumbered. But we didn’t have time. Like I was watching someone else fight, I could see what the other Enders would do a split second before they started to move. Just like when watching them reach for their abilities. I used it to my advantage. The Ender in front of me had my death in mind, and he was aiming to hit me over the head with the club, and then cut my throat, making it look like he hadn’t meant to go that far.

  Without another thought, I whipped the spear forward in a downward slashing arc at him. I aimed for his right shoulder, fully expecting him to block the blow, and readying myself for the reverberation along the shaft. He didn’t get his club up in time. Not even close. The blade bit in deep, cutting through his shoulder and clavicle, peeling him open. I jerked the war spear out hard and fast, my heart hammering, blood thrumming through my veins.

  Something deep within me knew there was no turning back now; we—I—had drawn blood, had struck a killing blow. As the Ender in front of me fell to his knees, eyes rolling back in his head, I breathed in, and calmness filled me. He’d wanted my death, his was deserved. I was within my rights. But it was the first time I’d hurt someone so badly, and a small part of me curled up and whimpered.

  Behind me, Smit let out a groan, but I didn’t pause. The momentum of the blow turned me in a full circle and I let it, my hair whipping out around my face, the blade catching the light.

  The second Ender I faced was going to dodge to the right and then swing in low, landing his club in my gut, dagger to my left eye. That’s what I saw, as clearly as if he’d painted me a picture. I moved with him, stepped back and drove my spear forward in a thrust that caught him through the belly. I slid my hand down the spear and pulled it forward with a quick yank, then turned to face the last two Enders with Ash. He’d dispatched one, and now faced Maggie.

  I saw the flicker in her eye, the lava burning there and ready to roar up and around us, swallow us whole. Nope, not going to happen on my watch.

  I circled around the back of her and swept her legs with my spear. She hit the ground hard, her head bouncing against the stone floor. Her eyes rolled up in her head and I paused, wondering if she was dead or not.

  “What in the seven hells of the goddess was that?” Ash yelled at me and I floundered, stumbling back as the glow I’d floated in disappeared.

  “What . . .?” I stared at him, not comprehending. Around us, the noise level had suddenly come back. The healers were helping the two Enders I’d fought, trying to staunch their wounds. I swallowed hard. I’d done that. The guts dripping out of one, and the arm nearly severed on the other.

  My work. My fighting. My weapon.

  The shaking started deep within me. I pushed a hand tight to my stomach. Ash grabbed me. “Come on, we’re in deep shit here.”

  We ran out of the healers’ room and there on the floor, beside Maggie was the reason we were in deep shit.

  The armband Ash had worn to bring us to the Pit was broken in two. Our way home severed with a single blow from one of the clubs.

  I had to trust Ash that he knew where we were going, that he would find us a way back to the forest. The hallways blurred as we ran, they all looked the same to me. Ash stopped at a door, cracked it open and peered in. Apparently, it was good and I breathed a sigh of relief. I followed him in.

  The room was set up as a library, the walls covered in books, and a large table set in the middle. But the books were not really books, just paint on the wall. This was one of the dummy rooms, which at least was better than a hole all the way into the Pit.

  Ash paced the room, hands on his hips, his jaw twitching, and the silence stretching until I wished he would just say what he had to say. “What in the goddess’s name were you thinking? We don’t kill other Enders, Larkspur!”

  I pushed off the door. “We don’t know they’re dead. And they were going to kill me.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  “I do!” I yelled back, the anger and fear blending together into a heady mixture. “I saw it, saw what they were going to do, the same way I knew Maggie was going to pull on the lava in the Pit just as I swept her legs.”

  Ash blinked several times, the confusion clear on his face. “Say again.”

  “They were planning to kill me. Both of them. And Maggie, there was fire in her eyes, the same way I saw when I trained with her, except I could see what she was going to do with it. She was going to have the lava spill up and swallow us. There would be nothing left of us to find.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “I don’t know how I know, I just know that was going to happen, what they were going to do. I’m sorry.”

  He was quiet long enough that I dared to look up. His face was thoughtful, the anger gone. And then he truly surprised me. “I believe you. I knew something was different the minute we stepped into the Pit. The way Maggie and Match faced us, the aggressiveness they were showing. That isn’t like them. Could it be Belladonna setting this up?”

  I wondered that myself for just a split second before shaking my head. “No, she might be a tool, but Cassava would be the only one to make something like this happen. But I thought Granite was the only one who knew we were coming?”

  “Cassava knows more than she should.” Ash closed his eyes. “She’s always there, always seeing what she shouldn’t. As if she can see through my eyes, hear through my ears.”

  None of that would help us, though. If the Enders I’d fought actually died, I would be on the hook for their lives. “You believing me won’t get us out of this. And I have no way of proving what they were going to do. Which means if they die, I’ll be right behind them.”

  The sound of running feet and shouting outside our door interrupted us, and brought us both around, reaching for our weapons. Tension rose and my muscles ached to move, to run, adrenaline with nowhere to go was a terrible thing. The running footsteps faded and I let out a slow breath. Ash still wore the black Ender cloak Cactus had given him. I’d left mine behind in the healers’ room. I doubted one cloak would be enough to hide us both, and if the Salamanders were like our Enders, they knew every single one of their own. There was no way we could get by them. And then there was the main door. How would we open it?

  An idea began to form, one I wasn’t sure was good, but it was all I could come up with.

  “They have a Traveling room, like us?” I tapped one foot on the floor.

  Ash’s eyes shot to mine, narrowing slightly. “Yes, but it will be deep within the Ender barracks just like ours. Highly protected.”

  “Do you
know where the barracks are?”

  He nodded, eyes glittering with a spark of life. “Yes, I do.”

  “Then what choice do we have? We have to get to the Traveling room if we’re going to stop Wicker.” I straightened my back, the tension in my muscles pulling at me to relax and take it easy. “If we get out of this alive, I’m going to need a spa day.”

  “If we get out of this alive, I’ll take you myself,” Ash muttered, moving to the door.

  A soft laugh escaped me. “Pedicures for us both?”

  He gave me a lopsided grin and opened the door. “Why the hell not?”

  Pedicures with Ash. Damn, my life was getting weird.

  Chapter 18

  Ash knew where we were going. The Salamander barracks were near the entranceway, the better to guard the Pit. Which was all well and good. The layout of the Pit with the endless hallways, doors, and stairwells worked in our favor, as well as against us.

  For the third time, we jammed ourselves into the dark recesses of a hallway as two Enders swept by, their eyes glowing, flickering with a barely contained fury. Their footsteps eased and we started on our way again.

  “They’re going to kill us both, if they catch us.” I kept my voice low as we ran up a set of stairs that seemed to go on forever. At the top, the landing curled to the right and climbed again.

  “All the more reason to get the hell out of here.” Ash peered around the corner before beckoning me to follow. The running, fatigue, fighting, lack of food, and general heartsickness left me moving in a haze, after the initial burst of adrenaline. The world around us blurred and blended into a never-ending game of cat and mouse. Sweat slid down my face, and my arms burned from clinging to my spear for all I was worth. I wanted to put it away, but I knew that was a foolish thought.

  We paused again, waiting to make sure the hallway was clear when I was grabbed from behind. I struggled until I heard Cactus’s voice.