“To hell with him.” Jac strode in and squeezed onto the bed. “Thanks to him, Miz Gere won’t let Zar and I track the bastards. Says the authorities will handle it. At least Miz Gere is going with him to their rooms. I gave them the best description I could of the carriage and its occupant before it took off.”
A chorus of cries and half-assed suggestions burst forth, and Miriam had to raise her hand again for silence. “She’s right. We need our workers in one piece, not this. Maraquin, I’ve reached the limit of what I can do for you. The surgeon better have a look.” She helped the girl off the table and over to a cot where Jac took over to get her settled on her stomach.
Miriam washed her hands and put a clean sheet on the exam table. “Daeryn? You’re up. That eye and nose look nastier than James’ leg.”
He limped over. Miriam inspected his head and body, daubing her herbal cleanser all around. “These calf cuts might need stitches, but they don’t trouble me as much as running on that tendon. A foolish move, Daeryn. Let me see your foot.” She pointed to the table.
Great, here it came. He could act like it hurt, but there wasn’t any swelling. Damn it all, why hadn’t he shoved his foot in that bastard’s face?
He lifted the leg to the table. She felt his ankle, bent his foot this way and that. He held it still as she ran her fingers over the tendon again. No faking the strong cord. It was what it was.
Miriam straightened and crossed her arms over her gray sweater. She stared at him. He stared back.
“You were on crutches at breakfast,” she finally said.
“Hey, you were,” Maraquin said. “Must be in a hell of a way now.”
“No.” Miriam’s voice held a hard edge. “His tendon is solid. Strung tight and strong.”
All heads turned his way. Where was Rivley? He needed help with a distraction here.
“Huh? How’d you do that, Dae?” James asked.
“Why,” Jac asked, “did you let us think you were still hurt?”
He was on his own for this one and didn’t have a clue what to say.
“I healed him,” said a familiar female voice.
chapter thirty-six
Daeryn’s stomach sank at Annmar’s announcement, and then gave a twist when everyone in the sickroom turned to stare at her.
She straightened her shoulders. “Accidentally, but I—”
“Annmar.” Grabbing his shifting sheet, Daeryn slid from the table. “You don’t have—”
“She got slammed around too much tonight.” Rivley appeared behind her. “Girl, you need to rest.” He grasped her elbow and gestured to the door.
“Don’t think I didn’t suggest that.” Miriam glared at Mary Clare. “You were to take her to the library and give her that remedy.”
The redhead opened her mouth to protest, but Daeryn stepped closer. “Go get some sleep, Annmar.” He made a shooing motion.
“I can’t. People are hurt.” Her voice broke, but she sucked a deep breath. “You came to help me.” She gazed around the room. “Everyone came to help me. I owe you all. If I can help anyone who got hurt tonight, I’m going to do it.” She slipped from Rivley’s hold, stepped forward and stumbled.
Daeryn caught her arm and steadied her. Blessed Creator, they needed the help. Otherwise, Zar and Jac would be the sole guards for the rest of the night. If Annmar wanted to heal them, then who was he to try to talk her out of it?
“Sit, before you fall,” Miriam said, “but you’re going to explain yourself, young lady.” She crossed her arms.
No, she shouldn’t. Daeryn met Mary Clare’s frown as they helped Annmar to the wing chair. Everyone here was like family, but the more that was said, the more there was to talk about. If it was anyone but Miriam asking… Crossing the older woman was like crossing Miz Gere herself.
Annmar cleared her throat. “It’s—”
“No.” Daeryn spun to face Miriam. “She’s not going to explain. Just do your treatments and she’ll…she’ll sit.” He shrugged.
“And draw,” Mary Clare said brightly. “Maybe we’ll need proof. For…the judge.”
Henry wrinkled up his nose in confusion. “We’re going to court?”
Daeryn shot him a look that made the boy flinch, but Rivley said, “In case we do.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Maraquin said. “Don’t you all get it? Don’t ask.”
“It’s the most basic Basin rule.” Jac came to stand beside Daeryn. “No one asks how you do it, Miriam.” Her set jaw and narrowed eyes challenged the older woman, something Jac was very good at doing. Thank the Creator the wolf was on his side this time. “So instead of yammering on, can’t we leave her be”—Jac glanced at Annmar—“and let Miriam get back to work? I want to know who can hunt tonight.”
Miriam pivoted to look at each of them in turn, ending at Daeryn. He didn’t waver, and neither did she. No one breathed, least of all him.
Finally, she nodded. “You’re not done. Back on the table.”
While Daeryn climbed up, some growers came into the hall. Rivley quietly spoke to them, blocking the room without making it obvious. The people left, shaking his hand as they did. He’d thanked them, of course. Always the gentleman. Always knew what to do. The tall avian leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms.
How could Daeryn look at his former pack beta and feel proud, grateful and irritated at the same time? They’d grown up in the same Rockbridge enclave and attended the same Borderlands Protective Chain lessons. Both learned confidence and leadership, but Rivley carried it off with far more finesse. Rivley should have pursued his own appointment as an alpha rather than agree to be Daeryn’s beta.
Annmar sat in the wing chair and drew. First him. Daeryn knew by the furtive looks and one slight smile she sent as the pencil constantly moved. When Miriam had him bandaged and off the table, Annmar turned the page. A few minutes passed while Miriam cleaned up. Rather than sitting still, Annmar’s glances went to Maraquin. The pencil whisked over the page.
Beside her, Mary Clare frowned.
Surely she hadn’t developed a touch of modesty? He’d remember to poke Rivley about it.
Then the girl leaned over the wing chair and whispered in Annmar’s ear, not nearly quiet enough. The words “Jac’s mark” and “Maraquin’s shoulder” bounced the gaze of every ’cambire in the room from Annmar to Jac to Maraquin. Bloody gashes crisscrossed her shoulder, adjacent to the pack mark Jac had just renewed.
Creator, no. ’Cambires never messed with another's mark. Doing anything with what Jac considered her property would prompt an innate defense. A lupine one. Daeryn’s hand shot out and clamped down on Jac’s thigh. “Mary Clare’s taking care of it,” he whispered as the muscles bunched beneath his fingers.
Jac met his gaze, her lips curling back, the point of a fang showing. “Why the hell is she drawing my mark?” she hissed. “And you? You’re speaking up for Mary Clare?”
Now everyone was staring at them.
Jac leaned to his ear. “Something funny is going on here.”
“Later,” he said, hoping it’d be enough to quiet her.
Seconds ticked by. The ’cambires watched as Annmar studied Maraquin’s cut shoulder with a frown, then returned her gaze to the paper. Alternately looking up and down, she made a few careful strokes, and then glanced at Mary Clare.
The redhead nodded.
Annmar’s head turned—
Rivley stepped before her, casting his narrowed gaze around the room. He cleared his throat, and behind him Mary Clare smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
That broke the tension, and everyone looked away. Jac relaxed. Daeryn lifted his hand. Hell, good thing Mary Clare caught that. Having Jac’s pack mark disappear from Maraquin’s shoulder wouldn’t go down well with Jac or Maraquin, regardless of what healing Annmar might bring to them.
Mary Clare edged over to Rivley and, after a quiet word, left. She returned after Miriam called James to the table, bearing plates of cold meat and bread that she handed arou
nd.
Annmar made a few more strokes on her Maraquin drawing that, judging from Mary Clare’s suppressed laugh, was probably a complete rear-view nude. She turned the page before accepting the bread Mary Clare had fixed with jam. After, the redhead sat primly on a footstool in front of the wing chair, a matching guard dog to Rivley’s door posting.
“How many days until they eliminate these gobblers and those ropens are gone?” Henry asked.
“Are you kidding?” Jac’s eyes flashed. “This ought to put them out of work. At Wellspring and elsewhere.”
Daeryn agreed, but hell, they were screwed. “It’s embarrassing seven of us didn’t defeat them.”
Maraquin shrugged. “We damaged Paet pretty bad. He won’t fly again.”
But he’d gotten away, which meant he was free to return and seek revenge. Besides widespread cuts and bites, James suffered a gash in his thigh, Wyatt deep claw lines across his arm, Henry a sprained elbow and Rivley several dislocated fingers. Little by little, keeping it quiet so Annmar didn’t hear, the fight was relived and dissected.
Jac whispered that Miz Gere had gone with Gunther to the ropens’ rooms in town. “I told her about the carriage waiting at the end of our road. It’s just too suspicious it sat there at the same time they tried to get Annmar off Wellspring property.”
Daeryn hadn’t noticed the carriage. Couldn’t see with this eye—wait, the eye focused now. And his nose didn’t feel so tight. He touched it with his fingers, then looked back up. “Did they stop at it? Yell anything to the occupants?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe slowed? They were already flying low, and I was far back. As soon as they passed it, a dark-haired man leaned out the window and slapped the side. The driver took off.”
Few folks in the Basin owned a carriage. “Was the Chapel Hollow’s livery name on the side?”
She shook her head.
There had to be some clue. “Color?”
“None I could discern in wolf form, and I didn’t think to change until after it left.”
Maraquin dropped her head to her hands. “Is there nothing to lead us to this man the ropens hired?”
Daeryn straightened. “The ropens didn’t hire him. He hired them. I just remembered, Paet said he would get his money, that this wasn’t the easy job he claimed.”
Jac frowned. “Who would pay them to kidnap Annmar? I mean, she’s just a city girl. Hardly stands out, except for being able to draw.”
Daeryn’s fists clenched, and his skin crawled, itching to change. But Jac’s tone wasn’t as nasty as usual. He eyed the wolf, then glanced at Annmar. Every person in this room would know soon enough Annmar’s claim of offering help wasn’t due to vapors from the attack. He leaned over to Maraquin and whispered, “How’s your ass feeling?”
“Devil take you,” Jac snapped.
He flipped up a hand. “Let her answer.”
Maraquin’s frown dissolved. “Uh, not so bad.” She glanced over to Miriam, who had her back turned to them while she knotted Henry’s arm in a sling. “No pain. The herbs?”
With a shake of his head, Daeryn tapped a finger to his nose, which he could now breathe through, then under his eye, seeing as well as usual.
Both their mouths formed O’s, and with wide eyes, the wolves shot glances to Annmar. He gave a confirming nod.
“But she’s a city girl,” Maraquin said. “Outsider.”
He shrugged. “Miz Gere hired her, brought her here.”
Jac rolled her eyes. “That is some Knack,” she whispered. “Hell, I guess anyone who knows would want to kidnap her.”
“That’s what I don’t understand,” Daeryn said. “No one should know. She didn’t know herself until she came here.”
They sat in silence, watching Annmar draw, until Jac shifted on the bed beside him. “I owe her an apology.”
“You feel bad about badgering her now you know she’s not an Outsider?”
She punched his arm. “I feel bad she is willing to help us after I...” She frowned at him. “Yes.”
“But you do have a point,” Daeryn said. “Who would pay to kidnap a city girl who arrived only days ago?”
Jac snapped her fingers. “There was something I noticed: The man in the carriage had a scar across the back of his hand.”
Maraquin snorted. “Half the rural ’cambires in the lowlands have scars from fighting.”
A man with a scarred hand. Where had he seen—Daeryn slapped his thigh. “A fellow in a suit talked to the ropens at Market today. Right after they finished up. He had a slice—” He motioned diagonally across the back of his hand. “Bet he’s the one.”
Everyone close turned to stare at him. Finally, James said, “You were at Market today?”
Chapter thirty-seven
Daeryn studied the scratches crossing his fingers. Annmar must not have noticed them. Or ignored them for worse injuries.
Beside him, Jac dug her elbow into his side.
No, Jac wouldn’t let him avoid James’ question. “I was there,” he mumbled. “Some stuff Paet has done irritated me. I followed him when I realized Annmar would be at Market while he was, too.”
“When did she heal you?” James whispered.
“The day after the attack.”
“You ass,” hissed Jac, lips curling back. “Leaving the rest of us—”
“Only my torso and arm at first.” He glanced around at the three—Jac steeling herself, James and Maraquin frowning—huddled close enough to hear his whispered words. “She didn’t know what she was doing. I figured out it was her drawings, then asked her to try again on my foot since that would get me back to work faster. But I promised her I’d wait until she was ready to tell people, until she knew what to tell people. She had to get her footing.” He looked at James. “I’m sorry that meant pulling you in to replace me.” Daeryn turned to Jac. “I hunted last night. Zar’s section. Didn’t you notice he moved to the middle?”
Jac hesitated a second, then dipped her head. “I suppose you’re ready to resume your lead.”
He was, but…his gaze drifted to Annmar’s slouched figure. The bruise on her cheek had darkened, but it was just a bruise. She’d be fine.
James cleared his throat. “I know you wanted this quiet, but she let it out. I need to inform Constance when she returns.”
“Are you still willing to hunt with us tonight?” Daeryn asked.
He nodded, then slipped from the room without even a limp. Rivley ducked out after him.
Daeryn returned his attention to Jac. “I am ready to lead. As crazy as things are in the fields, I’m thinking having two of us for the team to turn to might be good, like when I check in with Miz Gere later.” And Annmar. “You up for co-leading with me?”
Jac huffed, and in looking away, her gaze fell on Maraquin. While wiggling closer to listen, Mar had sat up. “Get off your ass,” Jac whispered. “Sheesh, we need someone for the surgeon to look at.”
Maraquin rolled onto her belly, and Jac rounded to him again. “I can do that. You ready to get going?”
Daeryn stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Same old Jac, still ordering people around, him included. But Jac’s call was good. Some of the injured had to stay, as much as Zar needed help in the fields. Miriam was swabbing Wyatt’s arm, her back to them. Gathering his sheet, Daeryn rose and, with Jac following, crept into the hall. They closed the door, but when Jac reached for the back door, Daeryn stopped her.
“You stepping in and working with me made it easier for me to give Annmar time to get used to her Knack. Believe me, I did wrestle with the decision, until I realized I could rely on you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said slowly. “You made the decision you thought best at the time. And now we have someone who can help us in a way no one ever has. It worked out, and as my gran says, that’s what’s important at the end of the day.”
Jac’s stories about her gran had always been negative. “You telling me you’ve actually remembered something positive
your awful gran told you?”
“Well…” Jac shrugged one shoulder. “I might complain, but she’s not leader of the Wildlands shire wolves for nothing.”
“What? You’ve never told us that before.”
“Like it would make any difference to you?” Jac rapped him with her knuckles. “You’re not a wolf.”
No, but it sure explained why Jac tried so hard. The alpha’s granddaughter had a lot to live up to. “Even with Annmar’s healing Knack,” he said, “it’s going to be hell in the fields until we get more help.”
Jac’s jaw tightened. “Then we hold on. Master Brightwell has some new invention he thinks will help.”
The back door opened, and Rivley stepped in. He glanced between the two of them. “James left to check in with Zar.”
Jac nodded. “I’ll catch him.” She stepped outside then, under cover of the door, tossed her sheet to Rivley. “Please thank Annmar for me.”
He closed the door and turned, one brow lifted. “Was that Jac?”
“Yes.” Daeryn grinned. “In fact, I just thanked her for being someone I could rely on. Like you.” But his grin faltered. Damn, this was awkward after their fight. “I’m sorry for going at you earlier.”
Rivley dipped his chin. “You went to Market Day to watch Annmar, then to the bonfire.” He shook his head, his hands wadding the sheet. “You’re more lovesick than I realized.”
Embarrassingly so. At least now Annmar had shown a sign of reciprocation. “I suppose. But truth be told, I stationed myself at the bonfire in order to ask her to let me reveal the healing to Jac and Miz Gere, at least. I want to return to the team, but”—he drew a breath—“I planned to tell Jac to take the lead. Paet nearly nabbed me when I went out last night. I’m too close in size to a pest, from a ropen’s view.”
Rivley gave a low whistle. “That explains this.” From a trouser pocket, he withdrew a small metal box attached to leather straps.
“Is that the lantern I asked for?”
The Unraveling, Volume One of The Luminated Threads: A Steampunk Fantasy Romance Page 29