Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3

by Hailey Edwards

  Weak as a newborn babe, I watched its final struggle and blessed its eventual containment. I cringed when energy seeped from its cover onto the sand. Close as I sat, as tired as I was, I could only sit as its stolen harvest seeped into me, chilling me as I shut my eyes and saw those camels.

  Yes, death magic had a scent. Now I knew it had a taste. I sickened as my power swelled.

  I made it to my knees, pocketing the vial before I dry-heaved.

  “Shh.” Hands stroked down my spine as I purged mouthfuls of foul breath. “I’ve got you.”

  After wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I slumped against Dillon.

  We collapsed in a pile of sickly limbs and waited for Lindsay.

  Or so I told myself before my eyes rolled shut.

  Sharp jabs in the ribs woke Dillon. His side protested the rough treatment, a ripe curse rising on his lips, until he cracked open an eye and remembered where he was and what had happened. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at Lindsay outlined by blue sky. She kicked him again before he blocked her foot, snagged her ankle and twisted. The halfling hit the ground.

  “Where is she?” he growled.

  Scuttling out of his reach, Lindsay wheezed. “She’s checking for survivors.”

  He sat upright and squinted toward the ramshackle shelters dotting the edge of the oasis waterhole. “She shouldn’t have gone alone.” His weight settled heavy on his left when he stood.

  Narrowing her eyes, Lindsay rose. “I checked first. I wouldn’t have let her go otherwise.”

  If she was going to make him ask, fine. “And?”

  “No dead demons, only dead livestock. Camels and a couple of chickens. A few are alive, but most not. No signs of their owners. Of anyone.” She shrugged. “It could have been worse.”

  “Much worse,” he agreed. This tiny watering hole couldn’t sustain permanent residents, so it was used as a pit stop between Feriana and Duchai. Most likely, when the animals got sick and the demons did too, the merchants abandoned the weakest of their lots and evacuated in a hurry.

  “We should get moving before someone finds us here.” She gestured. “With all this.”

  Bone-tired as he was, Dillon knew she was right. Time was wasting. Sere was still a ways to go, and they had plans to make. Rolling his shoulders, he started walking. “I’ll go fetch Isabeau.”

  “I’ll load the cart.” Her chin indicated the saddlebags. “The salt’s there, if you’re curious.”

  Dillon slowed. Salt was the last thing on his mind. Isabeau was the first, her daughter second and surviving this clusterfuck a distant third. Lifting a tired hand in thanks, he made his way past the murky pond serving as the oasis’s water source toward the row of dilapidated lean-tos. Faded canvas hung in weathered swaths, failing to offer any privacy to the sometimes-occupants but would have made Lindsay’s, and now his, search for survivors easy as skimming down the line.

  “Hey,” he said, once he got within hearing range of Isabeau.

  Her back faced him, her shoulders straight, sight fixed somewhere off in the distance.

  “Isabeau?” Dried blood coated her arms and speckled her clothes. “You all right?” Still no answer. Wheeling her to face him, he asked, “Anyone home inside that beautiful head of yours?”

  “I’m sorry.” She blinked several times. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “It’s fine.” Her token protest was ignored as he hugged her. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Lots of things.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  He nuzzled her throat. “Like?”

  “How irresponsible it was of me to use magic beyond my control. How these deaths are my fault. How much worse this situation would have been if instead of this oasis, the mare had returned to the colony or run into the nearest city. And I’m not done yet.” She said, “Far from it.”

  “No.” He held her tighter. “We aren’t done yet.”

  Her fingers tightened in his shirt. She didn’t speak, didn’t have to. He knew she would try to shoulder the blame when this was over, but his hands were just as dirty as hers. Somewhere along the way, he’d realized there was more to life than his job. That losing that job might have been a gift instead of a curse. After all, Harper was mated now. He wasn’t the guy he used to be, and Dillon was glad for it, for him. Emma was healing him. Together, they were whole, and thank God for it.

  “I regret…”

  Dillon pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off Isabeau’s response. “Sweetheart, we all have regrets. I know I do.” He sighed. “When this is over, then we’ll talk. There are going to be heavy consequences for what you’ve done. For what I’m helping you do. We’re in this together, right?”

  Her face rubbed against him in a nod.

  Isabeau was in this up to her pretty little neck, but damn if he’d let her get hurt more than she had been. Breathing in the scent of his mate, Dillon cast aside his doubts. She was worth this.

  Harper more than earned his slice of peace, no doubt. But didn’t Dillon deserve the same? Maybe the best way to vanquish the ghosts of his past was to embrace a future so bright it blazed through his tormented dreams. If so, Isabeau was the key to locking his worst nightmares at bay.

  If that meant giving up friendships and the colony to protect her, he’d do it. For their family.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sere loomed ahead, its boundaries an invisible line crisscrossing Askaran sands.

  From my seat in the cart bed, I stared over my right shoulder, as if my will alone would drag us closer or push our destination farther, I wasn’t sure which I preferred. To my left, Lindsay lay dozing with her blade in her hand. I studied her, but in sleep she looked as she always had. It was her demeanor that had changed. Since beginning this journey, she’d remained quiet and thoughtful.

  Neither of those qualities were synonymous with the Lindsay I’d come to know.

  Rubbing my cricked neck, I admitted defeat and stared ahead, the scenery much unchanged.

  Green splotches marred the otherwise golden dunes. I braced as the cart hit another patch of grass. Wincing as my tailbone thumped against wood, I grumbled about male drivers and their ability to hit every clod in their path. When we bounced again, I tapped Dillon on the lower back.

  He didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder.

  “If you think you can do a better job,” he said, patting the bench seat, “hop on up here.”

  I accepted his invitation, pressing a kiss to his nape along the way. “Not much farther now.”

  He grunted, which I took as agreement. Resting my head against his shoulder, I let the miles glide past until grass matted our path and our horse trumpeted its annoyance at the roots tangling our sled’s rails. Icy foreboding made me shiver. I sat upright, shrugging lower into my clothing.

  We’d arrived.

  Home. How empty the word rang through my head.

  I lay my hand atop Dillon’s, where he fisted the reins. “This is far enough.”

  “Are you sure?” He eased the horse to a standstill. “We’ve barely crossed into Sere.”

  “I’m positive.” I stroked his hand with my thumb. “Roland will be expecting me to arrive alone. When he realizes I brought company, he won’t be pleased. We should remain near enough to the border we can cross if things end badly.” I squeezed him. “If Roland won’t release me, then I want you to take my daughter.” When his jaw clenched, I added, “I’m sure that Emma—”

  “Roland won’t honor his word. We both know that. No, don’t interrupt me. You wouldn’t be ticking things off your to-do list if you believed even for a minute he was trustworthy.” Twisting, he faced me. “You’re going to walk away from this with your daughter and with your freedom.”

  I wished I believed him. Yes, I had Roland’s word, but even vows could be circumvented.

  Dillon scowled at my obvious doubt. “You’ve never thought about it, have you?”

  “I’ve thought a lot about a lot of things.” Du
ring these past days, my brain had cramped with eventualities and risks and possible outcomes. “Do you mean being free? Or…being a mother?”

  “The latter has never been far from your mind or we wouldn’t be here now.” His gaze fell on me. “Freedom. Never feeling the tug of slave bands again. Never saying yes when you mean no.”

  “Of course.” Hadn’t all slaves shared the same dream? “So what haven’t I thought about?”

  “I’m talking residency laws.” He snorted. “You know, those pesky rules the queen drafted to ensure Askara wasn’t overrun when slaves from neighboring kingdoms tried claiming asylum? If I recall correctly, any demon living in Askara prior to the announcement was grandfathered into full citizenship. If I’m not mistaken, it also stipulates any demon working in Askara for a period of one year earns citizenship. By my estimation, you’ve worked in Askara for a year and a half.”

  “I have.” Dangerous hope unfurled in my chest. “Or I did.”

  “You’re free, sweetheart.” He cupped my cheek. “Remember that. Whatever Roland says or does won’t change the fact you’re as free as I am.” His grin was smug. “When this is over, you and I are walking out of here together.” He amended, “The three of us are leaving Sere behind.”

  While I didn’t share his optimism, I marveled at his revelation. “I thought I would feel…”

  “…different?” he asked. “Hold that thought. We’ll revisit the topic once this is over.” His lips brushed mine.

  “When did you become so confident?”

  “I’m a confident kind of guy.”

  I chuckled. “I think you’ve confused confidence with arrogance.”

  “Not nice.” His growl warmed me.

  That warmth radiated from my chest, down my arms until my slave bands singed my skin. No. Shoving Dillon back, I hissed, “He’s here. Roland is here.”

  Dillon’s head snapped up, and his hand went to the blade at his hip. “Where?”

  “I can’t tell.” I scooted from his reach, deafened by the pounding of my heart. “Near.”

  “Well done, Isabeau.” Masculine laughter sliced through my ears. “And you’re on time.”

  “I brought what you asked.” I resisted the urge to rub my wrists. “Show yourself.”

  My feet hit the ground before Dillon caught me. He bit off a foul curse, but I waved him into silence and followed the noise from Roland, adjusting myself so I remained between Dillon and him. Though I doubted Lindsay was still napping, I also doubted he could see into the bed of the cart from where I’d determined he was standing. At least one of us held the element of surprise.

  Black tendrils of smoke whirled several yards from us. When the remnants of his parlor trick were scattered on the wind, he smiled at me. “I never doubted you would succeed.” His gaze slid over Dillon. “I am, however, impressed you managed to convince your friend here to deliver the salt to me.” His laughter chilled me. “Or does he perhaps think to save you from your bargain?”

  Ignoring his question, I firmed my tone. “We agreed I would meet you at your estate.”

  A shrug was his answer.

  “How did you find us?” Dillon narrowed his gaze, scanning the area for unseen threats.

  Roland flashed his handkerchief, still spotted with my blood. “Basic spell craft.”

  Understanding the significance, Dillon let the matter drop.

  “You must have been close,” I said, buying myself time to think of a plan. I saw no one, but I knew in my bones my daughter was near, meaning at least one of Roland’s guards must be too.

  “When my spell lost you for several hours, blocked by a magical signature I recognize, well, it occurred to me you might be using a certain crafting to locate a certain someone. Rather than wait for your arrival, I gathered guards to help me locate you. I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

  “We brought the salt,” Dillon said, gruffly. “Where’s the girl?”

  “Well, well. Possessive.” Roland clicked his tongue. His gaze cut left, pausing a moment before sweeping my body in a slow appraisal that unnerved me. “You have been busy, Isabeau.”

  I stifled the rise of shame at what he implied. “I have your word,” I reminded him.

  “So you do.” His tone was far from comforting.

  Unease slithered the length of my spine. “Where is she?”

  “First, I’ll have the salt.” He scuffed the dirt. “Place it at my feet, if you please.”

  Trusting Dillon to guard me, I turned my back on Roland and reached over the cart’s edge. I swallowed my surprise when firm fingers grasped my wrist. Lindsay nodded at me, twisting her blade, letting me know she was ready. For what, I didn’t know. She pressed a small cube holding salt into my hand. When I grabbed for the bag, she shook her head no and mouthed sample at me.

  “Roland,” I called over my shoulder. “Would you like to sample the product to be sure?”

  “That’s quite all right.” He eyed the cart. “I trust you.”

  Stretching to gather the strap, I dragged the saddlebags within reach and mouthed he knows.

  A sigh that huffed bangs from Lindsay’s eyes was her response.

  “Wait for my signal,” I whispered, preserving the element of surprise as long as possible.

  “Isabeau…” Roland left his threat hanging.

  Hefting the bag onto my shoulder, I inhaled once before I turned. “Salt is heavy, you know.”

  I crossed to him and hesitated. He scuffed the ground a second time, making his point.

  “Count yourself fortunate you’ll never have to handle such a large amount again.” His fingers knotted in my hair, and he reeled me to him. “Dillon, isn’t it?” Roland knew well and good that was his name. “I trust you’ll behave while our darling Isabeau enjoys her reunion?” He yanked my hair back until my skull hit his shoulder then brushed a slow kiss on my cheek. “I know she’s been waiting a long time for this. It’d be a shame if she missed out on your account.”

  Dillon growled. “If you hurt her…”

  Roland cupped my chin and gave a vicious twist that made my neck pop. “If I decide to hurt her, she’ll be dead before your feet touch the ground.” He kissed the side of my throat. “Sorry.”

  “I’m sure you are.” I dared to lean against him. “Please, show her to me.”

  “Very well, I suppose a glimpse is in order.” He flicked his wrist toward the spot he’d eyed earlier. Air pulsated as black mists parted to reveal two figures. “There you are. Look your fill.”

  “Brielle.” Her name tore from my throat. Speaking it cut my tongue with shards of regret.

  Waves of auburn hair cascaded over the arm of the guard who held her lengthways across his body. Round cheeks were flushed from sleep, and her beloved face was more beautiful than I had remembered. Blue ruffles poured over his opposite arm, trailing from a flouncy gown meant for show more than play. Matching shoes covered her feet, a bow of the same color on her head.

  Her dark lashes meshed. Red lips pursed. Porcelain dolls would envy her innocent beauty.

  “My baby,” I whispered. “My beautiful baby.” Panic crept through my chest, sinking barbs of fear into my heart. How many times had Mother teased that mice tiptoeing on sand could wake her? How many mornings had I wished for one more blessed hour of sleep to no avail? Yet now she slept? “What have you done to her?”

  “I gave her something to help her sleep,” he said. “You should thank me for that kindness.”

  From that secret place where I had locked every detail of her precious face welled a furious pain, cinching my throat and shredding my heart. My nails dug bloody furrows in Roland’s arms.

  “I’ll have none of that now.” He jerked me flush against him. Only then did I realize I was still scrambling to reach her. “Play nice.” His arms tightened. “Or I think we both know I won’t.”

  “Calm down, sweetheart.” Dillon’s voice cut through my fear. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Things will be better than o
kay.” Roland stroked my hair. “Since Isabeau was kind enough to bring you all the way to Sere, it’d be a shame not to give you the grand tour.” He smiled. “My castle is only a few days’ ride south, and I assure you accommodations are on par with Rihos’s.”

  “What’s your game?” Dillon shifted on his seat. “You know Harper won’t bargain salt rights for my life if he wouldn’t for Emma’s. You have no leverage. Give us the girl and we’ll leave.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Roland purred over my shoulder. “I have something better. I have his second-in-command, the one other male privy to all aspects of the mining operation and someone intimate with the colony’s security measures.” He stroked my cheek. “As long as I have Isabeau, you’ll cooperate.” His gaze slid to Brielle. “I think you’ve realized by now she’s part of a package deal. You must not mind or you wouldn’t have come. So my guess is you’ll guard the girl.” He trailed a finger down my throat. “Kind of you to be so invested in our child’s future.”

  Struggling against Roland, I snapped, “You knew he’d come. You knew I’d bring him.”

  “I won’t lie.” I heard the smile in his voice. “I did hope you’d tell him everything and that he would insist on accompanying you.” His amusement turned to disgust. “You have such a guilty conscience, it’s pathetic. I figured your remorse would win him over if use of your body didn’t.”

  Blood rushed into my face. The need to look at Dillon, promise him I hadn’t used him, was a knot in my throat. Afraid of facing him, I asked Roland, “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Easy.” He pushed my shoulder until I sat at his feet. His fist remained bunched in my hair. “I have two things he wants.” He stroked my temple. “That would be you and our lovely child.”

  “You promised—” I spluttered.

  “I promised you freedom, and as you have no doubt realized, you are a free female, a minor oversight on my part, but one our dear Brielle rendered negligible. I am rather disappointed it took your friend pointing it out to you, but your willing blindness only reinforces my point—you have decided your freedom is worthless without Brielle. A point I saw and capitalized upon but have never understood.” He grew pensive. “As to the girl, well, I’m afraid I can’t surrender her.”