Horror numbed me until the bite of metal into my wrists revived me. “You’re breeders.”
Tobin didn’t deny it. He smoothed a hand down his shirt as if brushing away my accusation. “The children birthed here aren’t sold or harmed. They live free. They’re placed with adoptive parents, fellow Evanti.” He gestured toward Adina. “This generation will be the first in memory raised free among their own kind. Our race will be enriched, our culture revived by that kinship.”
Adina’s muted voice interrupted him. “Tell her what happens to the females.” She drew her knees to her chest, or she tried to, then she wrapped her wings around her middle and she rocked.
“Even noble causes require sacrifices.” Tobin frowned. “Your daughter will be given a normal childhood. She will play alongside her peers until she reaches maturity. Then she will—”
Her insistent humming ended his speech. Her eyes squeezed closed, her lips pursed, and my heart ached. She reminded me of a child balled tight against her night terrors, willing them gone by ignoring them. Only this nightmare was substantial, and these monsters wouldn’t dissipate. I didn’t need him to finish. I knew what came next. His cause was far worse than Askaran slavers.
These were Evanti impregnating females in a desperate attempt to repopulate a race losing its grip on survival. Freedom would make a difference, in time. One day Evanti would feel safer raising families and their numbers would increase. Would a boom save them from extinction? I hoped so. I admired their tenacity, but their fate rested in Zaniah’s hands. And now, so did mine.
Chapter Nine
Desperation had sliced Dillon free of his glamour miles ago. His wings were taut, the urge to fly a tic in his shoulders. He kept an eye on the straggler whose erratic flight pattern mimicked an injury. Dillon wasn’t buying it. His ass was staying glued to the saddle until he figured out what this guy’s game was. If he rocketed skyward, others could be waiting to launch an attack. If one stray arrow hit his wings the wrong way, he’d be crippled and stranded with a bum leg in the middle of Askara’s largest desert. Considering his wings hadn’t escaped the mine explosion unscathed, the risk was too great. If he and Isabeau needed his wings for a quick exit, he wanted them ready. Diani was his best bet for transportation, even if her legs were no match for flight. He could also use the time to think. Not to mention Harper would shoot him if he abandoned her.
So regardless of how instinct screamed at him to take to the skies, he kept to the ground.
Isabeau needed him at his best. His best wasn’t what it used to be, but it’d have to do.
Doubt whispered getting help was the way to go, but leaving Isabeau alone? Not happening.
Above, the injured male made a slow circle over a steep pile of stones. Dillon squinted, pinpointing the shady entrance before the male reached it. “Is Askara nothing but a damn mine?”
It sure looked like it from where he sat. He and Isabeau hadn’t made it far beyond the colony before they were attacked and she was captured. There were no other mines this close to Feriana. This hideaway had to be yet another forgotten branch of mine connecting to the colony’s tunnels.
While documenting the mine had become a full-time job for some legionaries, Dillon wasn’t one of them. He’d have to play this by ear and hope if the mine was in use, it was also in decent shape. Otherwise he was placing faith in a leg that hadn’t performed well enough to earn it.
A quick scan of the area netted him nothing. If the others were here, they were inside. There weren’t any dunes high enough for a male to hide behind, and clear sky stretched for miles in all directions. Foreboding crept along his spine. This was a trap. No doubt about it. It had to be.
He dismounted and sank to the ankles in powdery sand. Already his leg complained about the distance from here to the mine. Leading Diani behind him, he crossed to the entrance without interference. Things were quiet. That wasn’t good. He was an easy target, so why hadn’t anyone taken aim? Unless they’d led him here with another purpose in mind, which somehow wasn’t as reassuring as he thought it would be. When he reached the loose rock littering the entryway, he guided her to one side and knotted her reins behind her neck in case she had to leave in a hurry.
Dillon glanced over his shoulder, checking to make sure he was still alone.
“Look, Diani, I’m going in there and springing Isabeau.” He scratched beneath her forelock. “I would appreciate it if you were waiting here when I get back.”
Diani’s snort seemed to say are you talking to me?
“Just stay put, okay?” He pointed from her to the ground. “Stay.”
Exhaling, he focused on repairing his glamour. Unease rippled across his skin, followed by a shiver as the cool relief of his illusion slid back into place. From a distance his slip wouldn’t matter. It would have been wiser to approach while safe beneath his human façade, but no matter how much he wanted to believe it’d been his choice to be reckless, the bottom line was that was a lie.
He was too wired, too ready for a fight to care. Even now warmth trickled down his spine, too heavy to be sweat. This was thick and sluggish, blood. More developments he couldn’t deny or hide for much longer. Try as he might, he couldn’t suppress this. His change was coming on fast.
Turning on his heel, he crept toward the entrance. No guards stood watch. All was quiet. The sense of being watched made him check over his shoulder, but he was alone except for Diani. His first step into the dark was met with thunderous applause that deafened him to the approach of a lean male wearing a crisp black outfit with his long hair gathered tight at his nape.
He raised his hand, and Dillon’s ears roared with the absence of sound.
“I’m Tobin,” he said, offering Dillon that same hand, “and I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Pulse jumping, I stared hard where I thought I remembered seeing the door, expecting Tobin to enter and another round of explanations to begin. Guilt burdened him. How could it not? What else explained his need to reaffirm he was doing what was right and best for the race as a whole?
“Save your energy.” A cough drew my gaze into the shadows. “You’ll need it.”
“Why are they cheering?” After I’d awakened and been confronted, our captors had settled.
“A new arrival would be my guess.” She didn’t elaborate.
“They can’t have captured another female.” It was impossible to have found another so fast.
“It’s not always a female.” She moaned and chains shifted. “Sometimes it’s a birth or a pregnancy. Sometimes it’s a new male or a victorious raid. The reason doesn’t matter, does it?”
I bit my tongue to keep from pointing out it mattered to me and should matter to her. When I had been here as long as she had, endured what she had, I might become apathetic as well. I wanted to say that would never happen, not to me. I would maintain the empathy for others that had made me embrace my healer calling, but I could be broken as easily as Adina if not more so.
Imagination supplied her with details of her unborn child while memory amplified mine.
“How far along are you?” Almost term if I had to guess.
“I’m not sure.” She seemed to consider the question. “I was a month along when they captured me. As large as I’ve grown, as strong as she is, I must be near the end. Eight months?”
Hope tightened my chest. “So the program Tobin mentioned, your child isn’t a part of it?”
“She will be.” Adina’s voice hardened. “Phineas is right that I’m familiar with their program. Tobin has hammered the message of duty to our people into my skull since my arrival. They have outlined my duty, my potential donors, every detail given, nothing spared. My nightmares are as well-rounded as my stomach, and I know the position they have readied for me.”
“If you weren’t…” I asked because it mattered. “Who is the father?”
“His name is Boaz.” Her voice thrummed with pain. “He’s a prime from the commune at Daeza.” I heard her swallow.
“He’s my mate, and if he thinks I’m lost, that our child is lost, it will break him.” She lapsed into silence a moment before adding, “You can’t protect your mate by not claiming him. They know he’s yours. I heard them talking before you woke. They saw him without his glamour, as they told you, but their spy knew what proof was required for a confirmation and he found it. I’m sorry, I am, but they have noticed the first signs of his change.”
Her words hung in my ears. “What change?”
Her harsh laugh surprised me. “You mean you don’t know? Has he not told you?”
“I’m a healer. Dillon was a patient of mine. He’s the friend of my employer’s mate. He was sent to capture me because I stole salt from the Feriana colony, not because I’m of value to him.”
“They aren’t wrong about his change, but I suppose they could be wrong about the trigger.”
I decided I didn’t like what she implied. “Do you mean another female could be the cause?”
“Another prima,” she said, “yes.”
“A prima,” I murmured, but she must have heard the question buried in my tone.
Her pitch changed to one of incredulity. “How is it you know so little of your own people?”
Your people aren’t mine. “I don’t know where Daeza is, or what the commune is. I see now I don’t know what a prima is, either. So please, feel free to enlighten me, not mock my ignorance.”
“I apologize.” She sounded genuine. “Until they brought me here, I had no idea lowlanders considered Daeza a myth. I thought…I don’t know what I thought, but the mountain is very real.”
I wondered what she meant, but she continued before I could ask.
“Daeza is a land far from here, to the north, where the last primes and primas reside. It’s a valley surrounded by mountains and guarded by the best warriors our commune has to offer.”
If that was true, then they were… “Evanti who escaped Askaran enslavement.”
She nodded. “Our numbers are modest, our resources limited, but there are several primas, like you and me, many more primes, like your Dillon and my Boaz. Then there are children…”
I didn’t bother correcting her misconception. I doubted she’d believe Dillon wasn’t mine.
“When Askarans arrived in our lands, some Evanti said they should be killed, because they were different, and their ways were different. Others argued the Askarans had done no wrong. They were curious explorers who would see this new land as untamable and they would leave.” She paused. “It caused a rift between those who voiced tolerance and those who warned against complacency. The end result was a divide. Half the families left the area when the first Askarans built homes. It was a sign they intended to stay, and some heeded it. The remaining families were convinced cohabitation was possible. That there was enough land for everyone to live in peace.”
I rocked on my heels to relieve pressure on my wrists. “I take it your family left.”
“They did. They founded Daeza, and all were welcomed there. Then rumors of slavery arrived on the mountain. At first, no one believed it. The Evanti were—we are—fierce warriors. It made no sense these weak creatures could shackle our brethren.” Anger tempered her tone. “It was then we learned the reason Askarans had crossed the sea. Their females were dying. Their queen was desperate to save herself, and her people. They lacked a hormone required during—”
“—pregnancy,” I finished for her. “They came here searching for progesaline.”
I sensed her agreement. “They did, and once they found it, they began digging mines.”
I pieced together the larger picture. “Then they realized they needed workers to fill them.”
“Yes.” She growled, “They took advantage of our ignorance. We were content with our simple ways and failed to understand our females required the same supplement because we had been using surface salt deposits to cure meats, which meant we had been consuming it all along.”
While she caught her breath, I admired her sense of history. How she took pride in her heritage. If it were possible, I would have thought she’d lived through the Askaran incursion. Perhaps she was her own worst argument against Tobin’s vision. She was a product of the sort of community he wanted for every Evanti. If some mothers, some children, were sacrificed for his vision to see fruition, as long as his supporters shored him up, then it was a worthwhile endeavor.
Though I admired his vision of utopia, I still saw bodies littering the path to enlightenment.
Unnerved by the sounds outside our door, I prompted her. “They withheld salt, didn’t they?”
Fury roughened her voice, but it was softer now, as if she were tiring. “It was a poor incentive to work until the first females died, most during late pregnancy or during childbirth. If a female survived, the chances were good the infant was stillborn. The Askarans knew what would happen because it had happened to them. By the time the Evanti from down the mountain were properly cowed, it was too late. Primas died. Their primes followed them. Their children were torn from their families and given to Askarans who raised them ignorant of their heritage.
“That first generation of enslaved males, having never seen primas, mated other demon breeds and diluted their bloodlines until they were shadows of their former selves. Askarans had systematically culled the Evanti and continued to do so until the new queen freed them. Since their mates were demonesses born in this region, most assumed they were progesaline dependent also.” She paused. “Whether they are or not mattered less than the fact they believed they were.”
“How did you end up here?” Captured in a place such as she described would be difficult.
“I’d gone with a friend to gather berries as we’d done a hundred times. Once we reached the forest, past the guards, we were captured. I don’t remember much after that, but when I woke, I was here and she was gone. I haven’t seen Tamara since.” I heard her yawn. “In Daeza, only our guards maintained contact with the outside world, the better to protect us from it, but there were those who chafed against the rules keeping us safe. Those few elected to go down the mountain, and we wished them well. We let them go and trusted they would keep our secrets.” She laughed softly. “As you can see, one of our more mercenary brethren exchanged our location for wealth.”
Indecision warred within me. I wasn’t much better. I was a traitor as well. “Was it Tobin?”
“If Tobin gained entrance to Daeza, which is impossible because of his diluted bloodline, he would never leave. No. I mean Phineas. He purchased the information from a former resident. He spied on Daeza, on me, learning our culture, learning about us. That’s why he was placed at the colony. Tobin wanted a male who recognized primes and females. His job was to search for fresh breeding stock among the new colonists. They suspected Dillon, but had no proof until…”
“Until his glamour failed.” My chest ached. Had I been the cause? Was it worse if I was, and he was mine, or if I wasn’t, and he belonged to another? “What did you mean about his change?”
“When a prime finds his prima, his body undergoes physical changes.” She sounded wistful now, a dreamy quality slipping into her voice. I wondered if Phineas had given her a sedative while I had been focused on Tobin’s speech. “There is no higher calling than guarding a mate.”
I had to ask, not for myself, but for Dillon. “Can it be reversed?”
Her response drifted to me on a hushed sigh. “Primes mate for life.”
“Adina?” As I struggled for a better look at her, cursing the weakness of the candle’s flame, it dawned on me our captors hadn’t been cruel. Courteous wasn’t the right word, either, but this situation was much worse for me than Adina. The absence of light hadn’t bothered her because she could see me. In my panic, I had forgotten Evanti had flawless night vision because I didn’t.
Careful not to rouse Adina, I settled in to wait on Dillon’s arrival, making myself as comfortable as possible. I was safe for now, until Tobin realized what I was and what I was not.
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br /> Chapter Ten
Dillon stared at Tobin’s outstretched hand until the male got the hint and lowered his arm.
Smile faltering, he said, “I’m pleased you could make it—”
“Where is Isabeau?” Dillon didn’t see her, didn’t smell her and didn’t waste pleasantries.
“If you’d follow me, I can explain.” Tobin’s gesture encompassed a compact seating area where benches had been carved from the tunnel’s walls. Several males sat stiff, perched on the edges of their seats, waiting for the wrong move Dillon was about to make. This ought to be fun.
“The female you took.” His cool tone made Tobin pause, smile fading fast. “Where is she?”
Clearing his throat, Tobin glanced behind him, at the others. “We know what you are. If—”
Dillon’s arm shot out, his hand encircling Tobin’s throat. His fingers almost met behind the scrawny male’s neck. Squeezing and lifting, Dillon gritted his teeth against the strain on his calf.
Fury and panic mingled in a volatile cocktail that blacked out the reasons why Dillon should proceed with caution. Diplomacy, well, it’d never been his strong suit. Besides, these goons had done nothing to earn even a smidgen of courtesy. They’d taken Isabeau from him and they’d pay.
“I’m not going to ask again. Where is Isabeau?” His chest was pumping, lungs burning, neck prickling. He inhaled. Traces of her pear scent filled his nose, and his rage eased a fraction.
Tobin’s face was three shades past purple, a good trick for a black-skinned demon. He stared at Dillon, lips moving, but no sound escaped. Dillon guessed that had something to do with the way his fingers dug into Tobin’s throat, crushing his windpipe, because nothing he said was what Dillon wanted to hear. He had taken Isabeau. A low growl rose in his throat. Taken what was his.
This time Dillon’s instant denial wasn’t so instant.
Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 Page 11