Twilight Crossing

by Susan Krinard

And now they had it. He had it, quite possibly in his own blood, and it was only a matter of reporting to Cassius. There was no question of keeping this horror a secret; Cassius had the resources to investigate far more thoroughly than Timon and Jamie could do on their own.

  Someone bumped into him, and suddenly he found himself surrounded by humans emerging from their night’s rest. How many of them were infected? Surely not too many, or there would have been far more Opiri deaths. Perhaps the virus hadn’t spread far yet. Testing and quarantining humans...

  Would cause utter chaos, Timon thought. The entire Conclave would be undermined just as surely as if he had stood before the Assembly tent and announced what he had learned.

  And what would happen to Jamie?

  Timon stood by the side of the central thoroughfare, recalling the thrill of taking her blood. It had nearly killed him to hold her in his arms and refrain from kissing her. To smell her, taste her soft skin and know that he couldn’t let his feelings show.

  She wanted to be friends, and they had to remain close allies. He wouldn’t risk stepping over the line, for both their sakes. No matter how often he had to remind himself that she could see no future for them.

  And there would be no future at all if they didn’t succeed in exposing those behind the virus and halting its spread.

  He continued toward headquarters, covering his head with his hood to hide his identity.

  A short time later he was ushered into Cassius’s office. The captain was giving orders to a pair of Riders Cassius didn’t know well, and when he entered Cassius dismissed them.

  “Well?” the captain asked as Timon stood before the desk.

  “I have information,” he said. “I’ve learned the secret.”

  Cassius met his gaze. “What is it?”

  “Before I tell you,” Timon said, “I require an assurance from you.”

  “From me?” Cassius asked. “You may still be a Rider, Timon, but if you think you can be insubordinate and suffer no consequences—”

  “I don’t care about the consequences to myself,” Timon said. “There is serious trouble in the Conclave, and I want to see Ms. McCullough protected at all costs.”

  “Then she has something to do with this trouble.”

  “I know she has done nothing wrong. But she’ll be in danger, and I want your promise that no action will be taken against her by you, the Riders or the employers who had us looking for the secret.”

  “I can make no such promise. But I can see you arrested, and questioned in such a way that you’ll be glad enough to share what you know.”

  Timon leaned over the desk. “I want the freedom to continue working with Ms. McCullough and the authorization to protect her. That, and your assurance that you’ll conduct any investigation as discreetly as possible until you have absolute proof. The alternative is to see the Conclave destroyed.”

  Timon had never seen Cassius so angry in his life. The captain’s eyes were cold stones, his face carved of granite, his mouth as taut as a bowstring.

  “I will grant you leave to protect your human female. That is all I will offer.”

  Curling his fists on the desk, Timon nodded. “I will protect her against anyone who attempts to harm her. Anyone, Captain.”

  And then he told Cassius about Jamie’s theory about the virus in Nereus’s blood, leaving out any mention of her mother’s notebook. He also didn’t mention that Jamie was almost certainly infected herself. Cassius would find out soon enough, but maybe the withheld information would buy her—and Timon—a little more time.

  Chapter 29

  “Nearly finished.” Jamie withdrew the needle and pressed a piece of gauze over the tiny bead of blood. Corporal Delgado helped Jamie bandage the puncture and scooted off the chair.

  “Are you sure you can tell if we have this parasite?” Delgado asked with a shudder.

  “Yes,” Jamie said. “And we have the treatment here.”

  “Thank goodness,” Delgado muttered. He looked around at the others who had lingered after their testing. “Have the Councilman and Senator already been tested?”

  “Not yet,” Jamie said. Because, over the past two days, they were both unavailable every time she looked for them, meeting with some other delegation or involved with negotiations that didn’t require Jamie’s presence.

  Could it be coincidence? Jamie was willing to believe it was in Amos’s case, but not in Cahill’s. He could be avoiding the test.

  Or was he? Jamie still didn’t have enough information to force the issue. Though she did know Greg hated Timon, seemed to dislike Opiri in general and had the rank, influence and means to carry out this kind of evil project. With Amos it was different. She had thought about it ever since she and Timon had discussed their next steps. It was conceivably a dangerous move, but she was convinced that they needed an ally from within the delegation...an ally who had the authority to help them. And she wasn’t sure she’d get a chance to discuss the decision with Timon.

  That afternoon she finally caught Amos in camp and suggested that he take the blood test.

  He invited her into his tent and asked her to sit down. “What is this all about, Jamie?” he asked with great seriousness. “Why this sudden suspicion about some parasite that’s never been mentioned before?”

  Jamie hesitated, praying that she wasn’t about to make a mistake. Slowly, she told him about her and Timon’s investigation of Nereus’s death, the retrovirus and her speculation as to its origin.

  Amos seemed genuinely shocked. He got up and paced around the tent, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “I have heard about the virus,” he said. “There are few in the government who don’t know the story of the humans who hoped to wipe out the Opiri. But that was long ago, and even if someone in the Enclave resurrected the virus, they couldn’t have gotten such a conspiracy past me.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “All it would take is one person working for someone high enough in the San Francisco government to make it happen. And there are people in the Enclave who still hate the Opiri.”

  “But they’re greatly outnumbered,” Amos said, “or this delegation wouldn’t be here at all. There must be another explanation.”

  “What if there isn’t, Amos? Who could have done this?”

  He turned to face her. “You have a suspect, don’t you?”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about Greg that I don’t know? Anything that might suggest he’d fall in with this kind of plan?”

  “Greg,” Amos said heavily. “You think he’s behind this? The man who wanted to marry you, who still loves you?”

  “He’s been the most hostile to the Opiri, or at least to the Riders. And I’ve noticed that he leaves nearly all the meetings with Opiri delegates to you, though he has a position almost equal to yours.” She shrugged uneasily. “And I also have a feeling. An instinct.”

  “And Timon has this instinct, too?” Amos sat down and stared at her. “I know you have feelings for him. But to trust an outsider half-blood more than your own people...”

  “Not more, Amos. But I do trust him with my life.”

  Sighing deeply, Amos slumped in his chair. “I can tell you this much, Jamie. Greg’s great-uncle was one of those originally involved in creating the virus.”

  Jamie covered her face with her hands. In spite of all he suspicions, she hadn’t wanted Greg to be involved. What could have driven him to such extremes?

  “We have no proof,” Amos said. “ I can’t have you accusing him of something he may not have done.”

  “I don’t plan to,” Jamie said, rising. “If the virus really is loose in the Conclave, punishing the perpetrator now won’t stop it. And if someone decides he’s the source, the entire delegation will suffer.”

  “Who else knows about
this?”

  “Timon and I have been careful,” she said. “But we can’t assume that Opiri won’t figure out why their own people are dying. I’m testing the other members of the delegation to see how many are infected. If we all are...”

  “We could all be considered guilty.” Amos rose, as well. “I’ll do whatever’s possible from my end. See what more I can learn from Greg. But, Jamie—I don’t want you further involved. In fact, I’d like nothing better than for you to get out of this camp. Perhaps Timon will agree to take you.”

  “Out of camp? You mean run away? I’m infected, Amos. I could spread this far beyond the Conclave if I run across Opiri who decide to take my blood.”

  “But Timon will be there. Jamie, I don’t want you hurt.”

  “I’ll stand by the delegation,” she said. “I don’t think that more than a few of our people could know about this, even if Cahill’s behind it. If something terrible happens, I’m going to be here with the rest of you to face it.”

  Amos only shook his head. Understanding that her godfather needed to be alone to absorb what she’d told him, Jamie left his tent.

  That night, she went to Timon’s little camp. A small fire was burning. Timon looked up, red glittering behind his eyes, and held out his hand.

  Grasping it lightly, she sat beside the fire. His fingers were firm and warm.

  “I spoke to Amos this morning,” she said, slipping her hand from his. “I told him everything.”

  Timon stared at her. “Why? We still don’t know—”

  “I trust Amos implicitly.”

  He was quiet for a long time. “I saw Amos once, alone with two Erebusians,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I saw them meeting at night, in secret. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but now—”

  “The Erebusians were the original targets of the virus years ago,” Jamie said. “They have no love for our Enclave. Did this happen before or after Lord Makedon insulted us at the reception?”

  “After.”

  “The Erebusians might have been offering an apology for their behavior earlier.”

  “A strange time and place for an apology.” He stretched his long legs out before him and looked up at the bold pattern of stars in the night sky.

  “Hmm,” Jamie said, her thoughts moving ahead. “I did find out that Greg had a great-uncle involved with the creation of the original virus.”

  A savage gleam flashed in Timon’s eyes. “I know you want him to be guilty, but it still isn’t enough,” she said. “We have to think this through carefully.”

  Timon didn’t answer. He moved closer to Jamie, his shoulder touching hers. His warmth and the scent of him made her catch her breath.

  “The moon is full tonight,” he said, tilting his head back to study the sky.

  She followed his gaze.

  “In ancient Greek myth, the moon is associated with the goddess Artemis,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “She was the goddess of the hunt. My stepmother has the same name.”

  Jamie glanced at Timon’s face. It was cast in shadow, but she could see the tension in it, hear the suppressed emotion in his voice.

  “Was your stepmother a huntress, too?” she asked.

  “As a matter of fact, she is,” he said. “Very skilled with a bow. She was a Freeblood exile from a northern Citadel, living on her own outside of the usual packs of hunters. My father met her while he was on his way to rescue me.”

  “Rescue you?” Jamie said, sitting up straight.

  “I was a child,” he said. “There was a Bloodlord in the north collecting half-blood children for future troops to pit against the Citadels and, eventually, the Enclaves. He’d already gathered an army of Freebloods who resented the power of the other Bloodlords in the Citadels.”

  “You were kidnapped by this Bloodlord?”

  “He sent his Freebloods to find children like me,” he said. “We were kept in a castle on the other side of the old Canadian border.”

  “I’m... I’m terribly sorry, Timon,” she said, lightly touching his knee.

  “You know what it is to be taken against your will,” he said, still gazing up at the sky. “I survived.”

  “I guess we both did.”

  He turned his head to smile at her, and she nearly melted under its warmth.

  “We have something else in common I never mentioned before. My father lived in the mixed colony from which I was stolen, but he was originally from your Enclave.”

  “From San Francisco?”

  “He was one of the convicts sent to be a serf in Erebus. He escaped, and my mother, a powerful Bloodlady, left her Citadel to be with him. She died before I was taken.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  “I remember what it was like,” he said, still staring up at the moon. “I know how difficult it was for you to lose your mother.”

  “How did your father and your stepmother meet?”

  “She was a Freeblood who believed that other Freebloods could abandon their lives of hunting humans and join together in a peaceful civilization free of dependence on human blood. She helped my father find me and fight off the Freebloods working for the Bloodlord. He was pulled down, and his followers...my stepmother decided that they could be redeemed, and my father had already let himself be changed into an Opir to help save me. He joined her in establishing a peaceful band of Freebloods who lived exclusively on animal blood.”

  “And you went with them.”

  “I wanted to be with my father, and I trusted Artemis from the beginning. They took up a nomadic life, gathering more Freebloods and converting them to Artemis’s philosophy. For me, it was normal to move constantly, like the Wanderers.”

  “Or the Riders,” Jamie said.

  He smiled wryly. “I couldn’t imagine settling down anywhere. But the time came when I wasn’t content with my father’s life, either. He and Artemis were devoted to their philosophy, and they wanted me to be like them. I didn’t want to dedicate my life to a cause. I quarreled with them, stole a horse and rode away.”

  “Then you dared what I never did,” she said. “I never rebelled.”

  “It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he said. “I found another family in the Riders, one that didn’t require me to fight for some noble goal. I don’t have them anymore, either.”

  “Timon, I’m so sorry—”

  “I know.” He got up. “Jamie, you should go back to the delegation. There are a few things I need to take care of.”

  And just like that, he brought their moment of intimacy to an end. He behaved as a good friend would...no more, no less.

  “Sleep,” he told her, guiding her away from the fire with the lightest touch on her elbow. “You still have human needs.”

  “So do you,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Half-human, anyway.”

  He smiled unexpectedly, and her heart gave a jolt. “Human enough,” he said. “When you wake, I hope to have more information.”

  Jamie backed away, afraid that she was missing some signal from him. But he only returned to his fire, leaving her to walk along the brightly lit lane toward the San Francisco camp.

  Back in her shared tent, she slept deeply and dreamlessly, only to be awakened when Akesha shook her shoulder.

  “Jamie!” Akesha whispered. “Nobody can find Senator Cahill. He’s disappeared.”

  Rubbing her eyes, Jamie threw her legs over the side of the cot. “Disappeared?” she said thickly. “What do you mean?”

  “No one has seen him since last night, and it’s dawn now,” she said. “The Councilman is worried about him. He asked me to ask you when you last spoke to him.”

  Jamie got up, reaching for her robe. “We’ve barely spoken at all in the past few days.”
>
  “You’d better come talk to the Councilman.”

  Jamie found Amos fully dressed and pacing outside his tent.

  “I haven’t seen him,” Jamie began. “When I—”

  “It’s worse than that,” Amos interrupted. “More Opiri have died, and I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

  Chapter 30

  Cahill wouldn’t speak. No matter what methods Timon used—everything short of torture—the human refused to admit that he’d had any part to play in the spread of the virus.

  Nor would he expose anyone else in the San Francisco delegation, even to clear himself.

  “I know nothing,” he insisted for the dozenth time, straining at the ropes that bound his hands behind him. “If the virus came from our delegation, it was distributed without my knowledge.”

  Recognizing defeat, Timon pulled Cahill off his knees and stood him up. The desert air was cool, though the various earth-colored birds and occasional more striking quail were already going about their business. The mountains to the west were looming shadows. In the distance, the tent city was also beginning to stir.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Cahill said behind gritted teeth. “You’re no longer a Rider, and this is kidnapping.”

  “But you won’t tell anyone,” Timon said, cutting through Cahill’s bonds with his knife. “You’re in too precarious a position.”

  “And you aren’t?” Cahill spat.

  “We’re both on shaky ground,” Timon said, pushing Cahill toward the borrowed horses. “We’d better keep things stable as long as we can.”

  Cahill was no fool. “As things stand now,” he said, “you’re safe. But the moment my delegation is cleared—”

  “If it is cleared,” Timon said, mounting Lazarus. “I’m on Jamie’s side, and that means I’m on yours unless you prove to be the instigator.”

  “You believe me?” Cahill asked in obvious surprise.

  “I don’t know,” Timon said. “You ride ahead. I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

  With a poisonous glance at Timon, Cahill kicked his horse into a canter. By the time Timon reached the perimeter of the Conclave, he could already see that something was wrong. The tent city hummed like an enormous hive disturbed by a child with a stick.