by Keri Arthur
Kiro swore and immediately ran for the pumping station situated underneath the tower. “How long ago?” he asked, over his shoulder.
I hesitated as the wind supplied the answer. “Three hours.”
“Will the sheer volume of water being held in the tank dilute the potency of it?” Trey asked.
The wind stirred again. “Apparently not,” I said.
“Which isn’t an unexpected answer,” Kiro said. “But a frustrating one, given three hours means entirely too many people could have already been exposed to it.”
“Yes.”
Kiro opened the pump house’s main door and stalked inside. We followed, and discovered what could only be described as chaos. Bits and pieces of metal lay everywhere, and the huge pumps that were used to draw the water from the artesian well through to the filters and then up to the tank were silent. The place was dark and there were no signs of any life—and, at the very least, there should have been several people monitoring operations and a couple of guards, given the importance of this pumping station to the Upper Reaches.
“Spread out and try to find someone,” Kiro said. “I’ll contact the Forum and order an immediate shutdown of water usage in the areas covered by the tank.”
“With the pumps out of action, will people still be able to access the water?”
“Yes, because it’s gravity fed.” He made a “go” motion with his hand and then pulled an earwig out of his pocket.
I headed left, Trey went right. In the far corner, behind several large but silent machines, I found three women and two men; two of the former and one the latter wore the basic brown uniform of Winterborne’s general workers, and the other two wore guard uniforms.
“Found five people.” I checked for signs of life, even though it was obvious from the odd angles of all their necks that none had survived their encounter with Saska. “All dead.”
I moved out from behind the machines and saw Trey walking toward me.
“That must be everyone, because there’s no one else here,” he said. “Did Saska say how long we had until the Irkallan came?”
“No, just that they were on the move.” I crossed my arms, trying to ward off the chill that came from not only being soaked to the skin, but the growing sensation of doom. “Our best chance of survival is to stop them digging underneath us.”
“Which is undoubtedly why Saska was ordered to place the toxin in the water.” Trey took off his waterproof jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “They were hoping to knock out a good percentage of our witches.”
“Kill them, not knock them out.” I pulled his jacket closed but felt no warmer for it. The chill seemed to have settled into my soul.
Trey studied me, his expression troubled. “What else did Saska tell you? Because there’s a fear in you that wasn’t there before you talked to her.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not catching my thoughts?”
“Only some. Perhaps that will change as we become more intimate but for now, no.”
Good. While I had every intention of telling Kiro what Saska had said regarding the only viable way to get into the hive and kill the queen, I wasn’t about to be so open with Trey. Not until it was absolutely necessary. Even if we hadn’t been involved, he wasn’t the type of man to willingly let any of his people undergo what would probably be a suicide mission. For all intents and purposes, I was currently under his command and therefore his responsibility.
“Saska was my twin sister,” I said. “She’s the reason I can command the air as well as I do. I’m the reason she was able to order the air to interact with earth to get out of that tunnel.”
“At least that explains the connection between you.” He hesitated. “Are you all right?”
“I discovered I had a blood sister and then lost her all in the past hour,” I said, shivering. “And I learned that I killed my mother. So no, I’m not all right.”
He didn’t say anything, just tugged me into his arms again and held me. That odd connection stirred, filled with a strength and warmth that flowed around and through me, bolstering my reserves.
“And the bodies in the tunnel?” he asked softly, his question whispering past my ear.
“Her daughter, and an Irkallan soldier.” I reluctantly pulled away from him and scrubbed away the tear that slid down my cheek. “Saska killed her child rather than let her remain under the queen’s rule.”
“A monstrous act in any other circumstance but this,” he said softly, “and one I fear we will have to repeat if we are to win this war.”
I didn’t reply to that statement. I didn’t even want to think about it.
“We can’t just stop them at Winterborne’s walls,” he continued. “Not this time. The fight has to be taken to them.”
“Saska said that was tried during the war. That because there’s no life in the Blacksaw Mountains, no witch will ever be able to do much damage to them.”
“Witches might not be able to, but I’m betting a fully equipped army could.”
“Aside from the fact Saska said it wouldn’t work, if that were true, wouldn’t they have tried it last time?”
“Technology has taken some dramatic leaps since then. We now have the power to blast the entire mountain away if we want to.”
“That won’t help if the bulk of the apiary is deep underground.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And is it?”
“From what Saska said, the queen and the breeders certainly are.”
He grunted. “That may or may not be a problem. Especially given we have no idea if the tunnel coming out from underneath the mountains is at the same depth as the one we found.”
“Its depth would probably depend on where the bulk of the workers and soldiers live.”
“Yes.” He glanced at Kiro briefly, who was still talking animatedly into his earwig, and then added, “That’s not our main problem, however. And it’s certainly not the one that will make us monsters.”
My throat went dry and my heart began to beat a whole lot faster. I already knew what he was going to say, because Saska had also referred to it, however obliquely.
“The children,” he added softly. “We have to find and destroy both the women who were stolen, and all the children they’ve given birth to. And we have to ensure we collect and destroy the remaining bracelets, so that they can never be used again.”
I swallowed heavily, fighting the pain and the knowledge of what was coming. Of what I’d have to do. “But—”
“With or without them, those children have been indoctrinated into Irkallan society. You saw the mental damage it caused Saska—how much worse would it be for children who were born into that environment?”
“Neither Hedra nor Pyra suffered as Saska did, though—”
“Saska suffered because she fought the orders she was being given. Neither her mother nor Pyra did.” Trey’s voice was grim. “I very much doubt the children would even be capable of it.”
There was no doubt about it—Saska had already told me that any child that showed any sort of self-awareness was killed. I was only arguing because I just didn’t want to do what I knew I would have to.
I scrubbed my hands across my eyes, smearing tears. “Have you still got the bracelet you took from your daughter?”
He frowned at the sudden change of topic. “Yes—it’s in my backpack. Why?”
I shrugged. “I just wanted to ensure it was safe.”
Before he could question me further, Kiro approached. “I’ve called in all available healers and medics from both the Lower Reaches and the outer bailey to cope with whatever levels of sickness might eventuate here in the Upper Reaches over the next twenty-four hours. I’ve also ordered an immediate meeting of the Forum.” His gaze came to mine. “You’ll have to report everything you’ve uncovered.”
“I won’t reveal my capabilities,” I said. “I’m not going to end up as little more than a serf or a damn breeder after all this is finished.”
Amu
sement touched his lips. “Oh, I think there’s little chance of that happening.”
“I don’t care how small the risk, I won’t do it.”
“Fair enough.” He glanced at Trey. “You’ll also be asked to report.”
“My father will just love that.”
His voice was dry, but once again, hurt shadowed the deeper recesses of his eyes. I guessed a man who’d given up everything for his child couldn’t understand his own parent not offering any level of understanding or forgiveness.
“Your father officially retired from the Forum six months ago, and won’t be present,” Kiro said. “Karl’s daughter is now acting second.”
Trey took this news with very little change in his expression, and yet I felt the annoyance—perhaps even anger—flick through him. Obviously, the rift between father and son was now so wide his brother had feared to pass on such a vital piece of information.
But better that than being in the situation of learning who your mother was only after you’d killed her….
I crossed my arms and thrust the thought away. I wouldn’t have changed my actions even if I had known Hedra was my mother, so why dwell over it? “And what’s being done about the water?”
“Engineers are on their way, and a code red alert has been issued across the Upper Reaches,” Kiro said. “Given it’s been three hours since the toxin was added to the water supply, I’ve also called out the guard to do a house by house check of inhabitants to uncover the current state of play in regard to illnesses or even deaths.”
In other words, they were currently doing all they could. We all just had to hope it would be enough.
“Neve, I know you’re soaked to the skin,” he continued, “but I’d rather you remain in your current clothes. It’ll add a sense of urgency to proceedings.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning they’ll take a bedraggled woman more seriously than they would a Nightwatch officer?”
“Yes, especially when you’re introduced as Trey’s second.” He glanced around as three men entered the pump room. “Ah, good. You’ve been apprised of the situation?”
The big man who’d entered first nodded. “We’ve got a second team closing down all the supply valves as we speak. We’re here to fix the pumps so the tower can be emptied and flushed out.”
“Excellent.” Kiro’s gaze met mine. “Ready?”
Not to face the Forum, I wasn’t, but at least I was doing it by Trey’s side. I nodded, and then took off the jacket and held it out.
“Keep it,” Trey said. “You’re shivering.”
“Yes, but it’s pointless both of us—”
“I’m hardly going to get soaked between here and the carriage,” he cut in, “so just put the coat on, Neve.”
I did, and then followed Kiro back out into the rain and the waiting vehicle. The Irkallan’s head—still wrapped in my coat—sat on the floor. Trey had barely closed the door when the carriage took off. It didn’t take us long to get to the building that housed the sitting members of the Forum, which was situated in the middle of the plateau and was a plain-looking, circular white building. It was only single story and the roof was an odd green-gray—the sort of color copper went as it aged, though I wasn’t sure the roof here was made of that material. In fact, given the sleek, shiny finish, it rather looked like glass.
On this side of the building, there were three entrances, all of which were heavily guarded. The carriage stopped directly opposite the biggest of them; Kiro motioned Trey to grab the Irkallan’s head and then climbed out. We followed. As we drew closer to the doorway, one of the guards saluted and said, “Lord Kiro, the arbitrator wishes to advise you that a quorum is now present and they are awaiting your presentation.”
Kiro nodded and continued into the building.
“A quorum?” Trey said, as we followed him into the sweeping and surprisingly large foyer. “That suggests we might have only just met minimum quota.”
“Indeed,” Kiro said. “But at least we’ve reached it, and can therefore immediately act on whatever decisions are made here this evening.”
We strode toward a set of intricately carved gold doors, our footsteps echoing on the darkly stained wooden floorboards. The doors opened as we approached, revealing a room that again was rather plain and surprisingly small. An odd light seemed to fill the room and I glanced up at the ceiling. In the place of stone, metal, or even wood, was a solid piece of green glass, and it soared gloriously over the room like the canopy of a forest. And perhaps it was the reason for the plainness elsewhere—you had no need for extravagance when such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship lay above.
The room itself was divided into two parts. The half on this side featured two rows of darkly stained wooden chairs—the back ones slightly elevated above the front—and on the other, a raised platform. A single wooden chair sat to the left of this, in which a balding man in his mid-fifties sat. Although my knowledge of how the Forum worked was only rudimentary—little more than what they taught in school, really—I knew that man was the arbitrator. It was his job to maintain order within the Forum, but he could also cast a deciding vote in the rare eventuality of such being needed. For that reason, the arbitrator never came from any of the houses, be they upper or lower, but rather from the ranks of those who—like Kiro—had personal magic, and who were well known and trusted amongst all the houses.
Almost half of the wooden chairs were occupied and, as Kiro led us up to some empty seats on the left side of the second row of seats, my gaze swept the nearby faces. I couldn’t see anyone who in any way resembled Trey.
Kiro motioned us to sit then walked back down to the floor and across to the platform. Trey tucked the Irkallan’s head under the seat and then nudged me lightly with his shoulder. When I glanced at him, he murmured, “Front row, middle seats, green cushions. My brother and his daughter.”
My gaze fell on them. Although—at least from side on—there didn’t appear to be much physical resemblance between the brothers, the young woman could have been Eluria’s sister.
“Did he acknowledge you coming in?”
“No.” Once again, his smile held a bitterness that spoke of hurt. “I think perhaps Father’s anger has infected him.”
“Maybe he simply believes the Forum is not an appropriate place for such a reunion.”
“Which is undoubtedly true. It does not, however, explain his avoidance of me over the last few days.”
I reached out and entwined my fingers through his. He squeezed them briefly then released me. Perhaps the Forum was also no place for a display of affection, however minor.
“What about the Rossi household?” I asked softly. “Who’s taken Marcus’s place here in the Forum?”
Trey discreetly pointed to seats to our left. “Who do you think?”
Jamson. I guess that was no surprise given he was heir. “Did Kiro discover who murdered Marcus?”
“It was Lida, as you suspected. She also planned to kill Saska.”
Because Saska had been pregnant with a child who, if gifted, would replace Lida’s son as heir. “I know Jamson had nothing to do with the murder, but it still stinks that he benefits—” I cut the rest of the comment off as Kiro began to speak. In a calm, emotionless voice, he told the assembly everything we’d uncovered, including the duplicity of the three women and exactly what they’d done. But he didn’t mention the Irkallan, instead calling Trey to join him on the platform and recount his part of the story. Trey did so, but again, he made no mention of the Irkallan. That task was obviously mine.
Kiro called me to the dais. I took a deep, shaky breath that did little to calm the rush of nerves, and then picked up the wrapped head and walked down. A gentle murmur followed me to the platform, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to some of the lords and ladies here recognizing me from the masque, or if it was simply because I very obviously had no right to be in such a place. I stepped onto the platform; Trey moved to one side, giving me room to stand between the two of them.
“Tell them everything distinctly and without embellishment,” Kiro murmured, as he took the Irkallan’s head from me. “From the moment the beacon was spotted to what Saska told you up on the water tower.”
I took another deep breath and did exactly that, only omitting the fact I was Nightwatch rather than a Blacklake soldier. It took forever because there was so much to tell, and by the time I’d finished my throat was dry and my skin so cold it was beginning to leech inward, forming a thick pit of ice in my stomach.
“Do you truly expect us to believe the Irkallan have been active for centuries?” a pale-skinned man sitting to the right of Trey’s brother said, “and that we’ve caught absolutely no sign of it until now?”
“Indeed,” Kiro said. “In fact, if not for the actions of both Officer March and Commander Stone, we’d still be dangerously unaware of said activity.”
“But what evidence of this do you have?” a woman at the rear said, “aside from the testimony of someone who abandoned his family and his position, and a stained soldier?”
“You’d do well to hold both your tongue and your animosity, Lia,” Trey said, voice clipped. “Especially given it was the actions of your sister that led to my leaving.”
The woman snorted. “I believe it takes two—”
“Enough,” the arbitrator said, in a voice so loud it echoed through the chamber. “We’re not here to discuss old grievances, but rather a future threat. Kiro, if you have proof, present it.”
He did so, unwrapping the Irkallan’s head and then holding it high so all could see. Once again, a murmur filled the room, but this time it was a weird mix of unease and disbelief. But then, this was the first time anyone here would have seen an Irkallan outside the pages of a history book.
“As Officer March has already said, the Irkallan’s body was found in a tunnel not far from the Blacklake outpost. The body of a child lay with it—that child was Lady Saska’s, one of many born to the witches stolen from Winterborne. This insidious plan has been in operation for centuries, my lords, and it’s now coming to fruition. The Irkallan are using their half-breeds to mine the earth and create tunnels—tunnels that not only bypass our outposts, but have, in fact, made a beeline directly to our door. The end of one such tunnel lies no more than half a mile from Winterborne’s gates—and you can thank Commander Stone for uncovering its existence this afternoon. Otherwise, we mightn’t have known about it until they were murdering us in our sleep.”