Bloodflower

by K. J. Harrowick

  Jàden stared at the emptiness, seething anger at Evardo’s last words. You weren’t there, and you know nothing.

  Her words came out much sharper than intended, but she refused to take them back. Evardo killed Mather, sided with Frank and Bradshaw. They may have had the gentleness of a lost child, but if she could see inside their head, what would she really find?

  Evardo stepped in front of her, a raw terror stark in their eyes. Please, Herana. You must stay, or both halves of your life-essence will be lost. The one from before and the one you seek now.

  Evardo’s mind retreated abruptly as raindrops fell on her face. Jàden jolted awake, her cheek pressed against a soft warmth. Groaning with heavy fatigue, she lifted her head from someone’s shoulder, the jungle alive with frog chirrups.

  The horrors of her dream lodged deep inside her chest, stirring up that unknown instinct deep in her bones.

  Beside her, Braygen leaned against the tree trunk, tracing his thumb across the hilt of her dagger and the strange orb with trailing legs. “You okay?”

  “Bad dream.” She sat up straighter, gripped her head in both hands and leaned against her knees, trying to shake away the anger.

  “Where did you get this?” He gripped the obsidian blade and offered her the hilt. Something in his voice had become guarded.

  “From the crew on the Darius.” She sheathed the dagger and leapt down from the low branch. An engine rumbled overhead, its gray hull practically invisible against the clouds.

  But Evardo’s words hit her again.

  They’re coming for us.

  Us. As if Evardo was somehow involved in all of this. Though with their strong dreamwalker abilities, Bradshaw would scoop them up in seconds.

  “Tell me what you saw.” Braygen placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing, his eyes a gray storm of emotions.

  “No.” She ached to hug him. To hold on tight as if he might shield her from what Evardo had shown her. She clenched her hands to keep herself rooted in place. “I don’t know. But the man from Felaren who held me pinned, he’s got a dreamwalker with him. A powerful one.”

  Someone who could show her whatever they wanted her to see. Maybe Éli forced their hand now, furious that she’d disappeared with the wind. Or maybe he’d found Jon instead.

  Jàden pulled away and resumed her pacing.

  This is our future if you leave. They were right to keep you here. You should have opened the gate the first time.

  She cried out in frustration. Frank had never been in the right. Opening that gate was too unpredictable and could easily make things a lot worse.

  You must stay, or both halves of your life-essence will be lost. The one from before and the one you seek now.

  This one hit her chest hard. The one she sought now was easy to figure out—Kale. But another half of herself, another soul mate.

  Maybe that was Jon. Except she’d met him after Kale, not before.

  Braygen leaned his shoulder against the tree and watched her calmly, only his eyes in turmoil. She couldn’t say if it was about the symbol on her dagger, her anger or something that happened while she slept.

  “We need to get out of here.” She couldn’t stay all day fretting about Evardo or whatever they had planned with Éli.

  The ship roared again and lifted skyward, zipping away into the storm. At least that was one problem gone, and yet she still couldn’t shake Evardo’s vision. She had no reason to trust them, but there was no way they could have known about the inner gate and the moon’s sentience. No one knew except her and Frank and a few dozen others who could be dead or in hypersleep.

  She crossed the small clearing to check on Ashe, his eyes open and staring at the sky.

  Relief washed through her, sweeping away her anger. “You’re awake.”

  Ashe groaned and rolled to a crouch. “Where’s Andrew?”

  She pressed a hand to his forehead to check for any lingering fever, but he batted her away. “Andrew’s with the captain,” she said. “They should catch up tomorrow.”

  Still pale and weak, his gaze darted between the Tahiró. Ashe grabbed her dagger and slid it out of its sheath. “Where the fuck are we?”

  “Peace.” Jàden lowered his hand. “These people saved your life.”

  He grunted and flipped the blade against the flat of his arm, his dark eyes boring into hers. He shoved past her and climbed onto Hena’s back. “Shouldn’t have left the captain.”

  “What was I supposed to do, let you die?” she said. The others were waking up as she grabbed Hena’s bridle. “It’s been three days since Felaren. Just listen and don’t charge off like a stubborn ox.”

  If a glare could kill, Ashe’s would have sent a dozen spears straight into her heart.

  Letting go of Hena, she placed a blanket on Agnar and climbed onto his back. “The captain knows we’re safe.”

  “Not likely,” he muttered, glaring at Braygen. He coughed a deep hack strong enough to make him grip his chest. “I don’t like that guy. He’s keeping too close a watch on you.”

  Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.

  “You’ve been awake all of ten minutes.” Jàden nudged Agnar between the two men while the others packed up. She tried to tell Ashe everything that happened since Felaren. “Éli’s here with thirty Rakir and a child.”

  “A child?” This seemed to snap his attention back to her. He practically barked his words at her. The poison must have erased any sense of humor he once owned. “That bastard cares as little for a child as he would a dead whore. Boy or girl?”

  “Boy, seven or eight. Why?”

  Clenching his jaw, he kept opening his mouth as if to say something then shutting it again. “We need to find the captain.”

  “Good to see you alive, soldier.” Alida nudged her horse alongside, grinning at Ashe. The dark branch-like birthmarks against her pale skin seemed to stretch with her smile. “Come, we ride for Veradóra. If you’re nice, I’ll let you sleep with me and my wife tonight.”

  That seemed to get his attention. Ashe turned his horse around and followed. Jàden rolled her eyes and patted Agnar’s shoulder. They trotted along a narrow trail through the trees, the ferns so tall they stretched over her head.

  For the next few hours, Alida led them through thickets of wood and over large, fallen trees while Braygen stayed close to her side. The invisible trail became more defined as a dirt path, tiny glowing lanterns along one side. The pathway curved along the cliff, opening into a wide meadow filled with horses.

  Several women stepped from the trees, orange-fletched arrows nocked in their bows.

  A woman with umber skin and black hair curled tight against her scalp stood ahead of the others, tiny leaves and flowers growing along her arms. “Rakir are not allowed in Veradóra.”

  “Do you see a Rakir uniform?” Braygen’s voice was laced with a hard edge as he trotted ahead. “You do not rule this land, Sumaha. Not yet.”

  Jàden grasped the dagger from Ashe’s hand and returned it to its sheath so he’d be a bit less threatening.

  “Northmen do nothing but destroy.” Sumaha eased the tension on her arrow. “You are a fool to bring him here.”

  Alida dropped from her horse and raced to Sumaha, pressing her forehead against the dark-skinned woman. She whispered something in a language Jàden didn’t understand, but the sentiment was clear.

  This must be Alida’s wife.

  “Not Rakir.” Ashe’s deep voice sliced through the air. “Hunted by Rakir because my brothers and I protect Herana.”

  Sumaha cursed under her breath and wrapped an arm around Alida. “You leave at dawn. We do not want your hunters in our land.”

  “Guess that means I ain’t sleeping with them,” Ashe muttered.

  Jàden scanned the others, all women, and each one looked ready to put an arrow in Ashe. Yet they welcomed Braygen with open arms, hugging him like a long-lost brother or punching him playfully on the s
houlder.

  They were wary of her though, even when she dropped her face covering. The branches were so thick overhead she doubted Frank could get more than a heat signature off anyone.

  She slid off Agnar’s back and scratched his cheek, watching the trail behind them as if Jon would ride around the bend at any moment.

  Ashe held Hena’s reins as he stepped close to her. “Be careful what you say. I don’t trust these people, and neither should you.”

  “They killed Éli’s men and kept you alive.” Jàden unclipped the reins from Agnar’s bridle as his ears practically zeroed in on a herd of short horses at the far end of the field.

  “You trust too easy,” Ashe muttered. “Have you learned nothing?”

  She unbuckled the twin dagger sheaths and handed them to Ashe. “Then here. Take it.”

  “The captain would murder me.” He shoved them back. “Rule number one, Jàden: I am your weapon.”

  She bit back a harsh reply as Braygen clapped her on the shoulder. “Come, I will get you both settled. Alida already has scouts searching for your friends.”

  CHAPTER 45

  Veradóra

  “I promise I’ll get you back to Andrew.” She leaned against the rail, overlooking a large valley illuminated with glittering silver light.

  Pain etched across Ashe’s dark eyes with each breath, but he squared his shoulders and stood beside Jàden as if he was fully armed. Sick or not, he wasn’t about to let anyone harm her.

  Kóra trees, each with trunks wider than a cottage, were connected by a labyrinth of hanging wooden bridges. In the middle of the web of walkways was the largest tree Jàden had ever seen. As wide and tall as any of the Sefirön towers, its branches spread a canopy over the entire valley.

  But unease tugged at her gut. The walkways were eerily quiet when they should have been full of life.

  Ashe seemed to sense it too. He nudged her shoulder and pointed up. Giant nest huts hung in the high branches, built with mud and sticks that made their shadows eerily spider-like.

  “You should sleep.” Exhausted as she was, Jàden’s mind raced with thoughts of Jon as the last sun set, the lanterns in the village brighter than an hour ago. The lake below shimmered each light’s reflection, like a sea of stars below her feet that stretched the length of the valley.

  Ashe opened his mouth as if to fight her on it but doubled over and hacked again, a dryness to the wretched sound. The poison still had the last few tenuous claws in him.

  Jàden helped him into the small cottage inside the kóra trunk. “I mean it. Rest. We can’t do anything until Jon’s here.”

  Or Éli found them.

  But she didn’t want to bring that stressor bearing down on Ashe’s shoulders. As he finally relinquished and crawled into bed, she closed his door and leaned her back against the solid wood.

  Braygen waited for her, dressed in fresh clothing with his beard neatly trimmed. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He pressed a cup into her hand, warmth seeping through to her palms.

  “Any news yet?” Her stomach knotted at the idea that Éli could be lurking at the borders of Veradóra when Jon and the others arrived.

  Braygen shook his head, a shadow in his eyes. “No word yet.”

  She leaned against the rail, soft laughter echoing from high in the canopy. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Two hundred and thirty-seven years.”

  Her hands froze halfway to her mouth as she tried to sip her coffee. “Impossible.”

  “Hypersleep slows the aging process.” He leaned on the rail, watching her closely as if trying to work something out.

  Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment as she studied the dark liquid, wishing it could unlock all the truths she so desperately sought.

  “You asked me to take you back to the beginning. What did you mean by this?”

  “I don’t know anymore.” Jàden clenched her cup tighter. Kale’s words seemed like they were spoken a lifetime ago. The first time they met was on Hàlon, their first dance at one of her grandparents’ parties. And the first time they kissed was during a dust storm.

  “There’s someone I need to find, but every time I try, death follows.”

  She clenched the coffee cup, Evardo’s words still brewing turmoil in her thoughts. Kale was her pilot, the love of her heart. And she had to get away from Sandaris and the thing buried in the core.

  Yet all she could think of was Jon. His kiss no longer lingered on her lips in the cold rain, but the fire in her heart still burned for him.

  Except it shouldn’t.

  She hadn’t seen him for days and ached for his presence. But the one from before and the one you seek now wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Evardo’s words rang with a truth she didn’t want to believe.

  “I don’t know what you learned of me as a child, Braygen, but—”

  “It doesn’t matter what I knew. I learned the truth when I took the Tahiró ink.” He leaned his elbow against the rail as he faced her fully now. “I see the truth now with my own eyes, Jàden Ravenscraft.”

  The bloodflower seemed to get heavier the moment he spoke her true name. She’d wanted to thank him for what he’d done for Ashe and set him straight on the whole Guardian thing, but it didn’t seem to matter.

  She was Herana in his eyes, no matter which name he used.

  “You don’t know anything, Braygen. No one does.”

  Bitter frustration welled in her chest that she couldn’t tell him everything, not without putting him at risk too. He and Alida has shown her nothing but kindness, and the thought of hurting them tugged at her heart.

  “I see loneliness.” His voice softened. “The deep ache that comes from too many years of loneliness. Of a burden so heavy it threatens to crush your soul.”

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered, the tremor in her voice betraying the lie. Every word hit like a hammer as she shoved the coffee aside and turned away. She couldn’t let him see her tears. Or the weight of the inner gate, Bradshaw’s lab full of innocent, tortured lives or that all she ever wanted was a quiet, monotonous life without the Flame ripping through her senses.

  “Then offer me one night,” Braygen said. “Prove me wrong or let me help drive away the emptiness for a time.”

  Jàden’s heart skipped as she faced him again. She ached for touch, for the warmth of intimacy so she could pretend the pain in her heart didn’t exist. A chance to escape the lonely grief—something she desperately ached for with Jon.

  Braygen stepped closer and touched her cheek, thumbing away a stray tear. “You wear no bonding cloth. I have no wife. Let me dry your tears for a night and put your heart at ease.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat, his fingers warming her cheek.

  There was gentleness in his gaze. A promise that he could make her forget all her troubles until the cold and bitter Sandarin world ceased to exist.

  But she loved Jon. She loved Kale.

  She was a walking disaster of emotions that none of them deserved.

  “I can’t.”

  “This pain will not go away. It will only fester.” He caressed a lock of hair away from her neck. “What can I do?”

  Despite the things he’d told her, she knew almost nothing about him, and yet the warmth of his fingers against her skin seemed to dig deep into her soul, tugging at something dark and angry far beneath the years of pain and loneliness. Almost as if they had a connection from another life.

  “No.” Jàden stepped back, pushing his arm away.

  Bitterness welled in her as she thought of Frank. Of two years stripped of her dignity and senses to become this creature who needed to be touched, desperate for intimacy and a hero to save her.

  “Guardian.” A strong, feminine voice sliced through her thoughts. Alida’s wife—Sumaha—stood behind Braygen. “We must speak.”

  A chill crept up Jàden’s spine. She met Braygen’s gaze, th
e storms back in his eyes, but she could not see past his shields. “Will you keep an eye on Ashe?”

  His expression softened as he tugged aside his collar to show his tattoo. “By this ink, my life is yours. The offer stands for whenever you need it most.”

  “Thank you.” She pushed past him but didn’t look back.

  Braygen had no idea how tempting his offer was. Kale would never have to know, or Jon, about how much she burned with the idea of intimate heat against her skin.

  But the bloodflower hung around her neck like lead, and Jon’s words whispered through her thoughts. I know you’re in love with another man, but you ain’t gonna get rid of me that easy.

  If he only knew the truth.

  She was in love with him too.

  The wind blew a chill across her cheek, as she followed Sumaha onto a well-packed path that rose along the cliff. Birds called from high in the canopy, verdant leaves dark against the evening sky and ominous thunderheads. Jàden pushed aside stray branches, fingers scraping over sharp thorns, velvety flower petals and prickly leaves.

  Energy pulsed into her fingertips. Jàden sensed the mark of the Flame as she pulled back, inspecting her hand. “What is this place?”

  “Where no man can tread.” Sumaha’s curt response sent another chill through Jàden. “You do not protect this world, Herana. We do. You protect the northman, whose existence stains this world.”

  Jàden’s hands clenched as they stepped into a clearing. Water rushed over a large boulder into a pool of crystalline purity. Shelora’s moon was already above the horizon, its full phase casting a bright glow upon the land.

  “He’s a good man,” Jàden said. “Only the poison seems to have erased his sense of humor.”

  Sumaha rounded on her. “He is a northman. And you are protecting him. They steal and rape and burn anyone in their path.”

  So this was why Suhama wished to speak with her.

  Jàden clenched her jaw, fighting back a scathing remark. This woman judged her, the light of doom flickering across her eyes.