by Keri Arthur
“I hardly think that possible,” another man from the front row said. “Their witches surely could not be as strong as any here.”
“If their plan to eradicate the Upper Reaches witches via poisoning had been fully successful,” Kiro noted, “they wouldn’t have needed to be.”
“There’s also the point that they’ve managed to bring a tunnel to the very feet of our wall, and none here detected it,” Trey said. “None of you have even noticed the uneasiness of the Tenterra earth, or the fact there are now large areas of deadness—a deadness that bleeds out from the Blacksaw Mountains itself.”
“You’re well aware our focus has been on the Gallion farmlands on which this place survives,” another bit back. “We can’t be blamed—”
“No one is blaming anyone,” Kiro said. “We’re merely stating unpalatable facts.”
“It seems to me we have two major problems right now,” a new voice said. I glanced to the left and saw it was Karl, Trey’s brother. “The first being how do we stop them at our gates if their tunneling deadens the earth and prevents us interacting with it. The second is whether we even have enough firepower to dig them out from under their mountains.”
“According to Lady Saska,” I said. “We do not.”
His gaze came to me; the green depths were so familiar and yet so foreign it sent a shiver down my spine. “And are we to believe the words of a woman who was in thrall to the Irkallan queen? A woman who is responsible for an attempted mass poisoning, and who might yet be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people?”
“Don’t forget she did tell me about the toxin, even against the queen’s orders,” I countered. “And she’s also the only reason we know about the tunnels.”
A small smile tugged at his lips, and again it was familiar and yet not.
“What exactly did Lady Saska tell you about any attack on the Blacksaw Mountains?” Kiro asked.
I glanced at him; in his pale eyes, I saw the awareness of secrets being kept. I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Now was not the time to hold back—at least not on something that would have major implications for any action taken. “She said that you can attack the mountains for all you’re worth, but you won’t destroy the Irkallan. The apiary lies too deep underground to be affected by weapons, and any attempt to invade on foot would be similarly doomed, not just because of the tunnels’ close quarters, but because of their sheer numbers.”
“But she would say that,” Karl said, even as Kiro asked, “Did she offer any solution to that problem.”
“She did.” And he knew it. I could see the knowledge in his eyes, and the determination that lay underneath it. He might not know what she’d said, but he was well aware there was more to her warning than what I’d already admitted.
“And?” he asked, when I didn’t immediately go on.
I crossed my arms, but it did little against the invading cold or the deep sense of inevitability that was beginning to flow through me. The air stirred around me, offering me comfort, offering me strength, but never once offering me hope.
“She said if we wished to destroy them, there was only one way to do so.” I hesitated, well aware of tension gathering in the man standing to my left. It was a tension that flowed through me, heated and angry—not at me, but at the situation and fate. At what he obviously guessed might be coming. “She said the only way to avoid detection was to send one person—and only one—into the apiary.”
“No.” Trey’s response was immediate and explosive.
“And is that person you?” Kiro said.
“Yes,” I said. “Because it turns out that Saska and I were not only sisters, but twins. The fact that my DNA is so similar to both hers and Hedra’s—our mother—will me to give me the chance to slip inside when they will scent all others.”
“That is madness—”
“Indeed, it is.” I met Trey’s furious gaze evenly. “But it’s a madness Saska believed, and one I also do. There is no other option. Not if we wish to keep Winterborne and all we hold dear safe.”
“Thank you, Officer March,” Kiro said, before Trey could say anything else. “We’ll now have to discuss options, so I’ll ask you wait in the foyer.”
Summarily dismissed, I left the platform and walked out of the room. Trey’s gaze followed my retreat. I knew without looking it was fierce, filled with anger and frustration, even if the rest of his expression was remote. Knew it because it was a river of emotion that flowed through me, amplifying my own fears and uncertainty.
I somehow made it out the door without giving in to that flood of emotion, but once the doors closed, the trembling began. I staggered across to the small seating area to the left of the main door, then dropped my head between my knees and sucked in air.
They were going to approve the plan. I had absolutely no doubt of that. Those who lived and ruled here in the Upper Reaches were a practical lot, and if there was any chance that one lone, unimportant unlit soldier could do what an army could not, then they’d order it done. No doubt there would be soldiers, equipment, and witches on standby should I fail, but they would nevertheless take the chance that Saska wasn’t entirely mad, that her words held some grains of truth, and thereby risk only one life rather than many.
But the thought of going to into that mountain and roaming through the tunnels alone and without any sort of assistance filled me with a fear unlike anything I’d ever known.
You will not be alone, the voices said. This time, it was both the whispering wind and the more sober, earthy tones of the earth. We will be with you.
Which was good to hear, but it didn’t help the fear. Because if something went wrong down there, I’d die alone. And for any Nightwatch officer, that was perhaps the worst of all fates.
Neither the wind nor the earth had a reply to that. After a few more minutes, I pushed back in the seat, rested my head against the wall, and closed my eyes. And though I didn’t think I’d sleep given the turmoil and the fear, I did.
Hours passed, and night became day. Eventually the assembly room doors opened and people began to stream out. Most of them ignored me, but a couple of them—including Trey’s brother—did at least glance my way and give me a nod.
Kiro and Trey were in the last group to come out of the room. Trey’s gaze almost immediately came to mine, but his expression was guarded and he didn’t say anything. Kiro was talking animatedly to a man dressed in gold—the color of the Hawthorn ruling house.
I pushed up from the chair as they neared. The stranger looked my way and gave me a tight smile. “I wish you luck, Officer March. Much seems to rest on your young shoulders.”
With that, he strode out of the room. I glanced at Kiro. “So it’s been approved?”
“In theory, yes. There are still many finer details to be worked out, however.”
“Saska said the Irkallan were coming. I don’t think we have the time—”
“You’re not going out there alone and unsupported,” Trey growled. “I don’t care how close the Irkallan are, we’ll at least ensure you have a fighting chance of getting in and getting out.”
“Which is nice sentiment but one that could yet prove costly—”
“You are currently under my command, and therefore my responsibility, March.” His tone was that of a commander, not a lover. “I’ve never sent a soldier into a situation without first ensuring all eventualities have been considered and every chance has been given for a positive outcome. I’m certainly not doing so now.”
He might have conceded the necessity of me doing this, but he was far from happy about it. That, at least, was something we both agreed on. I returned my gaze to Kiro. “So, what happens next?”
“You go rest. I’ve already ordered the Nightwatch to your suite at the Rossis’ to ensure no one comes in or out while you do so.”
“And what about the Irkallan? And the tunnel? What plans are being made to counter both?”
“As I said, they still need refining. We cur
rently await the arrival of the remaining outpost commanders.”
“But the Irkallan—”
“Sensors are being placed under the soil as we speak. We’ll know soon enough if they’re coming,” Kiro said. “Even if the Irkallan’s witchlings are currently working on that tunnel, it could still take them days to reach the wall, and possibly even weeks to burrow under both it and the subterranean levels. Our counteractions will more than likely begin tomorrow.”
We dare not wait until tomorrow, the wind whispered. We do not know how long we have until the Irkallan queen realizes Saska has fallen. We have a limited window in which to act.
Which was undoubtedly true, but I wasn’t about to leave Winterborne without at least saying goodbye to those I cared about. And if I were to have any hope of achieving the task Saska had set me, then I also had to be at my peak, both physically and mentally, and that meant I needed to eat and rest.
I crossed my arms, my fists clenched against the desire to reach out for the man who stood so close. To ask him to wrap his arms around me and keep the gathering darkness at bay, if only for a few precious minutes. “There’s no way I’m going to sleep right now—”
“Try,” Trey said. “Because you’ll need every ounce of strength to survive what comes.”
And survive you must. He didn’t say that out loud, but I heard it nevertheless.
“Then I’ll need some sort of potion to do so,” I continued, voice flat. “There’s altogether too much going through my mind right now.”
“I’ll order a healer to attend your suite.” Kiro glanced at Trey. “We must go. Neve, we’ll drop you off—”
“Thanks, but I’ll walk,” I said. “I’m so cold now that it won’t matter, and I need the fresh air after being stuck here for so long.”
“Yes.” Kiro paused. “I apologize for that. I should have asked for food and wine to be brought to you.”
I shrugged. “I’m not going to fade away for lack of a meal.”
“No, but you could have caught a chill and that—”
“Is the least of my problems right now. Go make your plans, Lord Kiro. I’ll be waiting to play my part.”
He nodded and walked out the door. Trey didn’t immediately follow. Instead, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and said, “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you survive this. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded but didn’t say anything. Everything he could do wouldn’t be enough, and we both knew it. The earth and the air wouldn’t be so silent if there was a sliver of hope.
He studied me for a moment longer, then dropped his hand and followed Kiro out the door. I waited until the carriage had left then walked out into the cold light of day. Though it had finally stopped raining, the air held a bitterness that cut me to the quick, adding to the ice already lying inside.
I resolutely made my way through the Upper Reaches and down the winding road that led to the outer bailey. Goodbyes were in order, and though I managed to keep hold of my emotions, April nevertheless sensed there was something amiss.
“Are you okay?” he said, as I pulled away from his hug.
“Yes. It’s just that this is the first time we’re taking the fight to the Adlin’s home ground, and I’m feeling a little antsy. You know how it is.”
It seemed safer to say it was the Adlin rather than the Irkallan, given the truth behind the attacks hadn’t yet been released to the wider public—and maybe never would.
“Yeah, and I’m wishing right now I was sharing those prefight jitters. Pisses me off no end I’m stuck in here while you and Ava get all the action.”
“Tell you what, I’ll kill a couple of them in your name.” That, at least, was one promise I could keep.
“Excellent.” He squeezed my hand and then released me. “I won’t say be careful because you always are. I will say that you owe me a full recap over several beers once I get out of here.”
“Done deal.” I stepped back, hesitated, then bid him goodbye before he could see or sense the tears that were threatening to fall.
It had to be close to midday by the time I made it back to the Rossi household. The halls were empty and silent, and there was no music or laughter flowing from the other end of the building—which was no surprise given most would currently be asleep after partying all night.
Ava and Ranel were standing guard at the door into the suite Trey and I had been assigned.
“About time you appeared,” Ava grumbled as she hit the door-open button. “The healer’s been waiting for over half an hour. Where the hell have you been?”
“I went down to check on April. I didn’t think the healer would arrive so soon.”
“Well, he did, and he’s pretty annoyed.” Her gaze swept me. “You don’t look ill—everything all right?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s just that I need to grab some sleep and I’m thinking I’ll need some chemical help to do so.”
“Ah,” she said. “So what’s going on? The bastards really haven’t told us much. We don’t even know what happened to Gen and Luc.”
“They’re dead, I’m afraid. Lady Saska tossed them over the cliff.”
“I hope the bitch pays for that,” Ranel said.
That bitch was my sister… but I kept the words inside and simply said, “She did. She’s dead.”
Ava frowned. She might not be able to read my mind, but she knew me better than any person alive and I had no doubt she could see the sadness within me.
“There’s something else going on, isn’t there?” she said. “Something big.”
“There’s a major assault being planned,” I said. “One that involves not only both the Night and Day watches, but also all the outposts.”
“Then I hope to hell we’re not stuck here,” Ranel growled. “I’ll be royally annoyed if we miss out on that sort of action.”
A smile touched my lips. “April said much the same thing.”
“I can just imagine.” Ava still looked concerned, but she didn’t give it voice, just stepped back and opened the door. “You’d better get inside and grab some rest. We’ve orders to let no one else in now except Commander Stone or Lord Kiro.”
“Good.” I gave her a quick hug, said a silent goodbye, and then went inside.
A thin-faced man in his mid-forties rose from one of the cloudsaks. “About time, Lady Neve—”
“I’m sorry for the delay,” I said. “Did Lord Kiro explain what I’m after?”
“He said a sleeping draught—correct?”
I nodded, my heart beating a little faster. “And a fairly strong one, if you have it. I want an uninterrupted eight hours rest.”
“That, at least, is an easy request.” He opened the satchel he was carrying and plucked a vial of clear liquid free. “This should do the trick—it’ll work in a matter of minutes, and keep you asleep for at least eight hours.”
“So I take the whole vial?”
“Yes.” He handed it over, then closed his bag and said, “Anything else?”
“No.” I hesitated. “Has there been much of a fallout from the toxin being placed in the water?”
“Numerous deaths in the ranks of the serving class, but only three so far from the ruling houses. Plenty showing unpleasant and possibly deadly symptoms, however, so I’ll bid you a good day, and be off.”
“Thanks for waiting.”
He nodded as he left. I glanced down at the vial in my hand then placed it down on the coffee table and walked across to the discreetly placed buzzer to one side of the main door and kept my fingers crossed our maidservant was one of the ones who’d survived. It seemed luck was on my side and hers, because a few seconds after I pressed the buzzer, she appeared.
“What can I do you for, my lady?”
“I’d like a large platter of meats, breads, and cheese, please. And some wine, too.” I hesitated. “What’s the water situation like here? Do we have any?”
She nodded. “The Rossi are one of three upper house
s that disconnected from the old tower’s supply after installing their own tanks fifteen years ago. I believe a temporary pump system has been set up so we can supply water to the rest of the houses.”
“Ah, good. Thanks.”
She nodded again and disappeared. I walked back over to the cloudsaks and sat down. If I wanted to obey the wind and leave tonight, then I had to do two things aside from getting as much rest as I could today. The first was to get hold of both a speeder and weapons, as having both would conserve my strength getting to the Blacksaw Mountains and give me options for destroying the apiary once I was inside.
If I got inside, that was.
The other thing I had to do was convince Trey it had to be done my way, not his.
To achieve the first, I’d have to talk to Kiro. It would be the quickest and easiest way to get what I needed, as his word was the next-best thing to law, at least around here.
The second, however, was likely to prove impossible.
I eyed the small vial uneasily. Using it might just break something that was both new and fragile, but did that really matter given survival was highly unlikely?
It was a question I really didn’t want to answer, even if part of me was screaming that of course it did.
I closed my eyes and tried to rest as I waited for the maid to return with my meal. I must have drifted, because when I opened my eyes, there was a tray of covered meats and a bottle of red on the table, and the fading light streaming in through the windows suggested dusk wasn’t very far away.
I poured myself a glass of wine and ate my fill of the breads and meats. There was still plenty left on the platter, but that was good as I needed some sustenance for my journey. Once I’d finished, I wrapped the remaining breads and cheeses in a large waterproof cloth and tucked them away for later, then slipped the sleeping draft down the side of the sofa where Trey was unlikely to see it. With that done, I stripped off, had a shower, and then headed into the sleeping chamber. The bed Pyra had shattered had been replaced as Trey had ordered, but there were still too many memories of her actions left in the pitted walls and flooring.