by Keri Arthur
“Excellent.” I sheathed my knife. With Kiro on his way, there was little point of me remaining here. I had the answer I’d been sent here to find; it was up to Kiro to decide what to do with these men now. “When you finish with these four, could you check on a maidservant called Kara for me? She was the victim of an attack by these delightful souls.”
“Indeed? I’ll ensure Lord Kiro is also aware of that when he arrives.” His gaze was cold with anger when it rose to mine, but it wasn’t aimed at me. “And I’ll certainly find Kara and ensure she’s okay.”
“Hey,” Franc growled, “I didn’t actually do anything—”
“No,” I said. “You just stood back, offered suggestions, and cheered Jamson on. Which is just as bad in my books. You’re damn lucky that knife was aimed at your thigh and not your rotten heart.”
“Amen to that,” the healer murmured.
Franc shot him a dark look, but wisely refrained from saying anything. Jamson was also quiet, but I could feel his gaze on my back, and it was as deadly as a knife—and that might just become a reality if I wasn’t very careful. I had a feeling the Rossi heir did not appreciate being shown up in any way, shape, or form.
Of course, he had to find me first. It was doubtful that—even when my face was revealed at the equinox unmasking—he’d think to look in the Nightwatch for me. Aside from Saska and the now dead Marcus, Kiro and Trey were the only other ones who knew my background, and I doubted they’d reveal it, as it would void the very reason they were using me. No Reaches man or woman—no matter what the house—would reveal any information, let alone their most intimate secrets, to someone considered so far beneath them. They might find a stained witch intriguing, but once they discovered I was actually nothing more than a Nightwatch officer with a small amount of magic… well, I’d be seen as little higher than a serf—as someone they could use but certainly never trust.
I headed back out into the ballroom, then paused, not entirely sure what to do next. After scanning the crowd and seeing no one I knew, let alone anyone I wanted to talk to, I walked back to the foyer, vaguely hoping to catch Kiro on the way through. But there was no sign of him—if he was on his way here, as the healer said, then he wasn’t coming via the main entrance. Which didn’t really surprise me; Kiro, I suspected, had a long habit of doing the unexpected.
I walked across to the main doors and studied the long line of carriages outside. The one bearing Trey’s colors wasn’t present, so he was obviously back at the Harken house with the lady Lida. I contemplated joining him, but before I could move, the wind whispered around me, bringing with it a distant but familiar sound.
The Adlin were howling again, but it was stronger—angrier—than before. It was also a sound that spoke of an imminent attack.
The itch to run down to the gates, to take my place amongst my fellow Nightwatch, had me taking a step forward before I could stop it. The reality was, the Nightwatch and the walls were more than capable of taking care of the Adlin without my help. Even if the Adlin used trebuchets against us, as they had in Blacklake, it wouldn’t help them breach the walls or the gates. They were too thick—too strong—to be brought down by fire, however fierce. And not even the heaviest rock the Adlin could cast against the walls would mar their mirror surface and give them climbing holds. Even if the fire did reach the outer bailey area, it was, for the most part, more stone and earth than wood, and wouldn’t easily burn or smoke.
So why did the wind speak of trouble and treachery?
I frowned and stepped further into the night. The air was bitterly cold, and fat drops of rain fell from the edge of temporary canvas cover, chilling the back of my neck before running down my spine. Far below me, I could see the lights that lined the inner wall, and, beyond that still, the black ribbon that was the main outer wall. From a distance, everything seemed to be as it should. There were no alarms, and nothing to indicate an attack. And yet the wind continued to suggest all was not as it looked.
Damn it, why did she speak so clearly to me sometimes, and not at others? Was it simply because I hadn’t gone through the initiation ceremony? Or was there something else going on? Certainly she’d been clearer within the walls of the Rossi household than anywhere else, but standing out here on the porch rather than inside shouldn’t have made that much difference.
As I caught the ends of my skirt to stop it flying over my head, something weird happened. The wind dropped and everything went still; even the storm seemed momentarily hushed. Then, with a huge whoosh, the air rushed backward, as if drawn unwillingly down the hill. Even the breath from my lungs was snatched, and it left me momentarily dizzy. I threw a hand against the sidewall to keep upright, and felt the shudder go through the stone. But power wasn’t being drawn from it—not in the same way that the air was being sucked down the hill. It was more a reaction to what was happening—it was as if the earth was issuing an odd kind of denial.
A heartbeat later, the attack alarm sounded.
Not up here in the Reaches, but down below, in the outer bailey. Lights flared along the inner wall, throwing the area immediately around it into brightness, and highlighting the scramble to get to the walls.
Because it was the night of the equinox, and there was only a skeleton crew manning them. If ever there was a perfect time for an attack, then this was it.
I clenched my fists against the increasingly urgent need to take my place amongst them, to fight beside the people I’d grown up with, the people I cared about. Ava and April would be down there somewhere, running to answer the call to arms. I should be with them, not up here playing games with people who’d never accept me.
Except it wasn’t a game. Not when the very safety of Winterborne might well hinge on us uncovering the true depth of the plot Hedra, Saska, and the now dead Pyra were involved in.
Besides, even if more than half of its personnel were drunk, the Nightwatch could cope with an attack. The walls wouldn’t be breached, not by anything the Adlin could throw at them.
It is not the Adlin you have to worry about, the wind whispered, in a voice that oddly sounded like Saska, but rather treachery from within. The Adlin did not call the air.
The image of Hedra, feet bare against rough, wet stones, her hair shining brightly against the rough blackness of the inner wall, flitted through my mind.
Hedra was supposed to be here, in the ballroom, her every movement being watched, so how could that image be fact?
Trust, the wind whispered.
But if Hedra is in Winterborne as a spy for whoever’s behind this plot, why would they risk exposing her?
Because her position here has become tenuous. Because of you. Because of your actions. She will make her mischief and then she will run.
Not if I can help it. I ran into the storm and was soaked in an instant. I didn’t care. The driver of the first carriage in the long line hastily jumped down from his covered seat as I approached, his face one of confusion and concern.
“M’lady, can I—”
“Find Lord Kiro immediately. Tell him Lady Hedra is in the outer bailey.” I brushed past him and jumped into the cabin.
“M’lady wait!”
I didn’t. I just hit the start button, grabbed the steering stick, and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The carriage lurched forward, rattling and shaking as it picked up speed. I zoomed through the gates and followed the wet roads down the hill, slipping and sliding around the various corners. More than once the carriage threatened to smash sideways up the wide pavements and into the ostentatious entrances of the many houses that lined the roadside, but each time I battled the steering stick and managed to keep disaster at bay.
The closer we got to the inner wall, the more strident the alarm became, and the more urgent the wind’s whisperings. My breathing was little more than short, sharp gasps, but it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even the exertion of battling with the carriage.
The air was simply becoming scarcer the closer I got to the outer bailey.
Was that Hedra’s plan? To snatch the air from the lungs of everyone in the outer bailey, then simply walk down and open the gates to the Adlin?
What on earth would that gain her?
Even if she killed every last soldier in both the Night and Daywatch, both she and they would still had to contend with the military forces manning the secondary wall and the entire force of both air and earth witches in the Upper Reaches. Hedra wasn’t a strong enough witch to steal the breath from them all, of that I was sure. She’d die, the Adlin would die, and she would have outed herself as a traitor all for naught.
Or was the plan simply to let the Adlin cause their havoc while she ran back to her queen, as the wind had suggested?
I rounded the last corner and hit the long straight stretch of road that led down to the inner wall. There were guards lining the top of it now, and more struggling to climb the walls. All of them were armed. Normally, the reserve force would only be called out under the direst of circumstances, so what on earth was happening in the outer bailey?
Were Ava and April safe?
I took a deep breath that barely even tickled my throat let alone filled my lungs, and tried to remain calm. I had to concentrate on finding Hedra, on stopping her, if everyone both here and in the outer bailey were to have any chance of halting the larger threat of the Adlin.
I hit the brake as I neared the locked-down inner gates. The carriage slewed sideways for several feet before it came to a shuddering halt. I threw my mask on the seat and then climbed out. Two men and a woman were running toward me, all of them wearing breathing masks. I hoped like hell someone had thought to issue them in the outer bailey.
My own breathing remained short and sharp, but my lungs weren’t burning. The wind stirred just enough air around me to keep me upright even if that fierce vacuum continued.
“Did the lady Hedra come down here sometime in the last half hour or so?” I had to shout to be heard above the noise of the sirens.
“Yes,” the woman—a regular soldier rather than one of the reserves—said. “But she’s caught in the outer bailey.”
“What happens there?”
“We don’t know,” she said, and then motioned toward the Upper Reaches. “You should return to your house, m’lady. It’s not safe here.”
Meaning she hadn’t seen my stain. “I need to get into the outer bailey—”
“There is no way inside,” she said. “The doors are secured and cannot be opened until the all clear is given.”
I swore softly. “Where’s your captain?”
“Up on the wall, but—”
I didn’t wait for the rest of her answer. I just headed for the nearest steps that climbed the steep wall, the wind at my back, feeding me air, telling me to hurry. If the soldiers chased me, I couldn’t hear them.
My lungs were burning when I finally reached the walkway at the top of the inner wall. I ran to the parapet, one hand gripping the nearest merlon as I leaned out.
Below me was chaos. There were soldiers everywhere, but many of them were either on their knees gasping for breath, or unconscious. I couldn’t see either Ava or April amongst those littering the ground, so maybe they’d made it to the wall. Not that it would make them that much safer—not against a wind that was sucking away the air. I scanned the rest of the area but couldn’t see Hedra anywhere. Maybe she was standing in the shadows of this wall.
At least the gates were still closed… but for how much longer if this wind continued to batter them was a question I really didn’t want an answer to.
The wind stirred again, bringing with it the sound of running steps. I glanced to my left and saw several armed soldiers coming toward me. While they’d probably release me the minute they confirmed my identity, every instinct said I couldn’t afford any sort of delay. That if I wanted to stop Hedra and save my friends I had to get down there, into the outer bailey, as soon as I could.
Run, the wind whispered.
Run where? It wasn’t like the wall provided any real choice, given it, like the outer bailey wall, ended with a sheer drop to the sea.
Trust, the wind whispered. Run
I did, even as I wondered at my sanity for doing so. The soldiers behind me shouted at my reaction, and I had no doubt orders were being issued along the line for soldiers to stop me at all costs—and no sooner had that thought crossed my mind when it started to happen. I swore and barreled through a couple of ill-prepared attempts but the farther I got along the line, the harder it became.
Jump, the wind said again.
I glanced over the parapet and the long drop down to the outer bailey. Not on your life.
Or my life, in this case.
Trust, the wind said. No harm will come.
I ducked under the blow of a soldier, and barely avoided the desperate attempts of two others. Rain-slicked skin helped, but for how much longer?
The wind didn’t reply. Instead, she amplified a sound that chilled my heart—a male voice ordering weapons to be fired.
They’d kill me rather than let me get any farther along this wall.
It left me with little choice. I took two steps and leapt high over the parapet.
And hoped like hell the wind kept her promise.
8
Everything became a blur as I dropped down the sheer edge of the inner wall. Far below me lay the hard stone rooftops of the bunkhouses, but hitting them rather than the ground wouldn’t make all that much difference. There was probably only a couple of hundred feet difference between the two and—from this height—the result would be the same: my flesh splattered ingloriously across the stone.
The wind didn’t seem inclined to check or hinder the speed of my drop, and it made me wonder—far too late—if perhaps the voice I’d heard advising me to jump belonged to Hedra, using my trust of wind’s voice against me.
But as I drew closer to the ground, the air surged, buffeting and bruising my body even as she gripped me. The speed of my fall began to ease, but the urgency I could hear within her was growing.
I hit the wet rooftop hard enough to send a shudder of pain through my entire body, and stumbled forward several feet as the wind abruptly released me, and I struggled to keep my balance.
A shout had me reaching for my knife and spinning around. The air was so thin that even though I hadn’t been here long, my lungs were beginning to burn and my head was pounding. There were unconscious soldiers everywhere on the ground below, their clothes and hair fluttering in the almost violent exodus of oxygen toward the gates. But some of the Nightwatch had managed to grab breathing apparatus, and many of them were now heading up the stairs to the walls. Walls that were shuddering under multiple impacts, something I could feel through the stones under my feet.
So where was Hedra?
There was no sign of her in the immediate area. I ran to the edge of the roof, leapt down to the walkway and pounded along, the sound of my steps lost in the cacophony of noise coming from both the sirens and the roar of the Adlin. On the second bunkhouse level, there were at least a dozen unconscious Daywatch soldiers lying across the walkway, and several had breathing masks they hadn’t been able to strap on in time. I scooped up one, hurriedly tying on the small tank before pulling on the mask. It didn’t immediately help either the burning in my lungs or the pounding in my head, but that was to be expected. I jumped over the railing and dropped down to the ground. No one paid me any attention—all those who remained awake and aware were focused on the wall and the Adlin, none of them realizing the real threat lay within the walls, not without.
I paused, and looked around. Logically, Hedra wouldn’t be out in the open. She’d either be hidden in the deeper shadows, out of the immediate sight of any Nightwatch officer, or perhaps even in one of the two emergency shelters used to protect noncombatants caught within the outer bailey during an attack.
Former, the wind whispered. Ahead.
Ahead was
not a useful instruction given the sheer size of the outer bailey. Nevertheless, I ran on, my grip fierce on the knife as my gaze constantly swept the shadows, looking for any hint, any sign, of life.
The pull on the air got stronger, seeming to crystalize in thought and determination. Urgency beat at my brain even as the wind tore around me, harrying my steps, pressuring me to greater speed. I all but flew across the wet stones, and still, there was no sign of her.
For freedom’s sake, I need more help than this! If you wish to help me save Winterborne, then tell me where Hedra is!
For an instant, I thought the mental plea went unheard. Then the wind hit me, pushing me to the left. In the shadows near the box that normally held the guard who monitored day-to-day entry into the upper areas stood Hedra.
Unfortunately, the same wind that showed her to me also revealed my approach to her.
She clenched her fist, but instead of throwing me backward with a tumultuous blast of air, as I half expected, she ripped her hand back, as if the air was a rope attached to something very real and very solid.
I felt the shudder in the stone first, and then heard a strange, almost metallic groaning; immediately after this, metal began to pierce the air—metal that was thick and heavy and smelled of machinery oil.
And it was coming straight at me.
I cursed and hit the ground, my hands over my head in a rather useless act of protection. The wind shifted its force just enough for the deadly projectiles to smash into the inner wall above me rather than into my body, but I was nevertheless covered in a rain of metal, cogs, and freedom only knew what else. Pain shuddered through my body, but it was minor compared to the fear.
Because the metal projectiles were nothing other than the remains of the apparatus that operated the gates. Without it, there were only the two steel girders that were automatically dropped into place to provide additional support to the gates in the event of a mass attack.