Amber Eyes

by S. D. Grimm

  “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “There isn’t enough information in Salea or our library. I have to know, Dash. I—I can’t describe this longing. This pull. It’s like when I was drawn to you.”

  “Yes, but this Ethan fellow left without you. Twice. He likely doesn’t share the bond.”

  True. The first time she’d met Ethan was outside the Blind Pig Tavern in Salea. He was losing a fight to six men, and she’d bailed him out of it. He’d pushed her away then, but the second time he’d asked her to go with him. That meant he might have felt the bond—or whatever it was. That’s what she had to find out.

  “Ready, then?” Dash’s voice pulled her out of the memory.

  Ready to leave the cover of the trees and venture into a city? Never. The thought always made her stomach clench. The Circle would have her hide if they knew what she was up to on these supply runs. A rush of uncertainty flooded through her blood, and that only emboldened her. She released her grip on her cloak and straightened her back. “Yes.”

  Dash’s horn dimmed—a hazy ripple outlined it. If she wasn’t touching him, she wouldn’t even be able to see it. His fur also seemed to lose its shimmer. He would now seem nothing more than a white horse. Serena pulled her black mask from her satchel. She wouldn’t put it on yet.

  When she wore it, she was Swallow. A bolder version of herself. Some cities may know her as a mysterious masked swordswoman, but not Erinecath. She’d never been here. Serena was as much a stranger here as Swallow. But she would be Swallow. Serena wasn’t safe outside of The Valley of the Hidden Ones.

  Her bones buzzed. A shiver skittered over her skin. Erinecath awaited.

  As Dash stepped out of the woods and headed toward the old dirt path, she breathed in. The air felt different out in the open. The wind stronger but warmer. The sun uninhibited. The sky unobstructed.

  Free.

  Dash chuckled.

  “What?”

  “You’re like a child in a field of wildflowers.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You want to run. To smell each flower and see how it’s different from the last.”

  Serena tipped her head to the side. “That seems right.”

  He chuckled again. “Hold on.”

  She gripped her friend around the neck and Dash ran. He raced through the meadow, sending butterflies into flight. The wind rippled through her hair. Right here, right now, this place—the place in between where she headed and where she she’d come from—seemed suspended in time. A place she could just pretend to be a child again. Carefree.

  As soon as she stepped into Erinecath, she would be bound again by who she was. But right here, right now, with the wind against her mask-free face, kicking up butterflies with her only family, she could breathe.

  Too soon she put on her mask, and Dash trotted right up to the city gates.

  The men who stood guard outside the city gates looked up from their books. “What business?”

  “I wish to visit the library.”

  Both men smiled and motioned for her to enter. She smiled in return. Dash stepped inside, and Serena slid off his back. The cobblestones beneath her feet were worn and smooth. Some were red. Others were dark gray, still others were blue or white. Each seemed to have its own pathway to a different direction of the city. The white path led through the center of the city and right up to a huge, blue-domed building.

  Serena lowered her hood and gasped. “It’s magnificent.”

  A man with circular spectacles and a short white beard—following a spiral pattern of the blue stone that eventually straightened and headed north—stepped around her, nose in a book. “Good day to you.” He didn’t even look up.

  She giggled. “Good day, sir.”

  Another man, younger and severely bowlegged, stepped around her, taking the red path. “Good day to you,” he said.

  Serena watched him sidestep Dash and continue south. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide a smile.

  Dash chuckled. “Sometimes little changes in a thousand years.”

  “A thousand, truly?”

  Dash nuzzled her with his white nose. “Get inside before all the books are gone.”

  She walked up the marbled steps, passing three men who all said, “Good day to you” to her and one another as they took to their colored paths and headed away from the library.

  She stepped inside and immediately breathed in. Spinning in a slow circle, she looked up into the domed ceiling. Her gaze drifted over the walls and rows of books. Reliefs carved onto the outside walls mirrored the colored frescoes inside. Beautiful. She touched the drawing of a dragon on the south-entrance wall. Its green wings were splayed open, and it seemed to overlook a city below. The Circle taught her to believe this creature meant to swoop in and kill, but this dragon stood with a man touching his shoulder. He didn’t look like a murderer. His red eye seemed to look fondly on the human.

  How perfectly strange.

  Frescoes soared up into the dome as well. Pictures of winged horses and dragons and willow trees and birds on fire. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Shh!” struck up in a chorus around her, and she bit down on her lip. Apparently they didn’t like much in the way of noise here.

  Serena wandered between the shelves, taking in the mixed scents of paper and ink and glue. Finally she found a dusty shelf near the back of the library filled with books on bonds.

  By the time Dash mentally nudged her, Serena sat on the floor surrounded by at least seven books and three melted candles. Hopefully her sack would be large enough to borrow what she wanted. She closed each book, running her hand over the covers and noting the titles again. The Bonds of Kin, The Tie of a Bond, and When Evil Binds made it into her bag. The rest she placed on the shelf. Then she headed to check the books out.

  The librarian looked up from his book long enough to notice her. He motioned to her mask. “Is it a feast day?”

  “No.”

  “Are you a woman?”

  She crossed her arms. “I thought it was obvious.”

  “Well, er, yes, but women don’t usually come here.”

  “Is my being here a problem?”

  “I—um—well, no.”

  Lie. And she didn’t need Healer abilities to detect the untruth, either. She tapped her fingers against her bicep. Perhaps the Circle was more right than she’d given them credit for.

  The man got out his ledger. “Who is requesting to borrow this book?”

  “You can call me Swallow.”

  He breathed in a tight breath, and Serena silently dared him to refuse her.

  A book slammed next to her on the desk, and someone slid it close to her pile. “She’ll take this one, too.”

  Serena glanced at the person next to her. An old, wrinkled, and hunched woman with milky-white eyes. Serena held her hand up in front of the woman and opened her talent. No sight. The woman wasn’t suffering though, so Serena didn’t feel a pull to heal her. She looked at the book, and her stomach squeezed. There was no title on the front cover, so she opened to see the first page. A Journal of the Whisperer of the Second Age.

  A Whisperer? What would she need with this book?

  The sightless woman seemed to look right into Serena’s mind. She didn’t say anything, just nodded. “You’ll need it.”

  Truth.

  Serena moved the book closer to the reluctant librarian.

  “Here you are, Miss Swallow. Enjoy the reads. And a good day to you.” His voice seemed tight as he handed the stack back to her.

  She smiled and turned to thank the old woman, but she’d disappeared. Serena placed the books in her sack and headed out.

  Outside, Dash approached her, slapping his tail against his rear leg. “You seem flustered.”

  “It’s just so strange here.”

  “Ready to leave then?”

  “Yes.”

  Dash chuckled. “So didn’t you have a good day?”

  Serena rolled her eyes
. Then she froze. A growing pain nagged at her insides. It exploded, revealing the cause, then reduced to a small ache. She touched Dash’s flank and removed her mask. This problem didn’t need Swallow’s help. It begged for Serena’s. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Serena, no. You can’t heal here.”

  “Tell me you don’t feel that pain?”

  Dash paused. “I do.”

  “Someone is dying, Dash. How can I not help?”

  “If you do and the Circle finds out, or worse, someone here tries to imprison you—they will hunt you down.”

  “I don’t care what the Circle says, and I don’t value my safety over someone’s life. I’m healing someone today.” She raced around the library to the north side, where the cries of a woman grew louder.

  “Please! I have come all this way. You have to help him!” She held the limp form of a small boy in her arms.

  Serena placed her hand over her heart.

  The woman stood on the steps of a small house behind the library. A sign on the door read, “Physician.”

  A man stood in the doorway, staring at the child. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Truth.

  Tears streamed down the woman’s face, and her knees seemed to weaken as she stumbled closer to the man. “You’re the best physician in Soleden. What do you need? More money? This is all—”

  “Madam, we cannot help your boy. Modern medicine—”

  “I can help him.” Serena reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Dash followed.

  “I am tired of living in the shadows, Dash. Are you with me?” She looked into Dash’s huge, brown eyes. It would put him in danger, too.

  “Always.”

  The woman ran up to Serena, her boy in her arms. “Whatever you can do.”

  “She can do nothing. Erinecath has no female surgeons. This woman is nothing but an inferior—”

  “I can save your boy’s life.” Serena lowered her hood, revealing her unmasked face. “Set him here.” She knelt on the ground.

  The woman laid her son on the grass.

  Serena pressed her hands on the boy’s side. Something inside of him had ruptured. Infection was killing him. She’d have to funnel it into herself. This would take a lot of energy.

  Strength drained from Serena’s body as she leaned over the boy. Pulled his pain into her own body. Everything else muted. Shouts resounded around her. A tremor rocked the earth. Dash must be defending her. She had to hurry, had to save the boy.

  Finally, the pain stopped pulsing into her. It was done. She leaned back and the world around her returned in full color. She felt weak. Drained.

  Dash reared, his hooves flailing, as he kept the mob of men away. They shouted words like “monster,” but one voice rose above the rest. “We could study her.”

  A tremor shot through her heart and she stood. “Dash?”

  “I’m coming.”

  The boy sat up and blinked. “Mommy?”

  Everyone stilled. “She did it.” Whispers spread through the mob.

  The woman stared at Serena. Her eyes widened. “You’re—”

  Serena cupped the woman’s hands. “Your boy was healed here, at the home of the physicians in Erinecath. You understand?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” she whispered. “And bless you.”

  “It’s my duty. My purpose.” Serena mounted Dash, and the unicorn bolted at a speed no horse could match. Serena clung tight to him.

  “You did the right thing, Serena.”

  Serena looked over her shoulder and kept her hand on her hood to keep it in place. “I know. It’s hard, though.”

  “To do the right thing?”

  “Sometimes. But I meant that it’s hard to know when to disobey the Circle.”

  “Just keep following that small voice in your heart.”

  She smiled. “You?”

  He snorted. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. And thank you for letting me heal him.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be coming back here any time soon.”

  “Me either.”

  “Serena?” Dash’s voice held a tremor, and she looked forward. The breath rushed from her lungs. The gate was closing.

  “Hold on.” Dash leapt over the gate. Serena grabbed his neck and held tight. Even as the shouts behind them dissipated, he kept running.

  Chapter 5

  Crumbling Prison

  Ethan opened his eyes to darkness. Shadows and light pulsed and flickered above him, a reflection of torchlight. By the looks of the jagged, rocky ceiling, he was still in the tunnel beneath the palace grounds. The last thing he remembered was General Balton stabbing him in the chest with a sword.

  His heart beat faster. No sounds of battle. Only the quiet drip of condensation leaking off cave walls. How long had he been out?

  Where was Jayden?

  He opened one of his talents but didn’t sense any threats for Jayden, but it was too much to hope that she wasn’t in danger. That meant she was either too far away from him or . . . no, she was alive. He had to believe Ryan had gotten her to safety.

  Dim light made it too difficult to see much of anything. He reached for his sword and cringed. Moving was a bad idea. Everything hurt. Gingerly, he touched his right arm where the enemy’s sword had bitten deep. A bandage. And it felt like someone had stitched him up. His pulse thrummed. His other wounds were bandaged and stitched up, too. But his sword belt was missing. No weapon. No shirt. Someone had found him. Who? And why hadn’t they killed him?

  He had to get out of here and find the others. And his sword. A shirt would be nice, too.

  He wrapped his throbbing arm around his sore middle and pushed off the floor with his left hand. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed three cavern walls surrounding him. This was some sort of alcove. A glint on the cave floor near the opposite wall caught his attention. That could be his sword. He just had to get over there and get his weapon.

  He made it the few steps to the opposite wall and braced himself against the hard rock. Where was that glint? Stacks of books, a blanket, and—a soft tapping sounded behind him. Like footfalls. Ethan froze.

  “You probably shouldn’t be moving.”

  He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Kara. The assassin who’d led him straight to the palace and the clutches of his enemy. She sounded close, but with the sound bouncing off the curved wall, he couldn’t pinpoint her location.

  He inched across the stone floor, hoping to bump into his sword. Nothing. Not even a rock to throw. His Blood Moon talent didn’t pulse a warning that Kara meant to harm him. Well, not yet anyway. If she did, his protective talent would kick in and cover up the pain. Hopefully then he could summon enough strength and speed to defeat her.

  “What do you want, Kara?” The roughness in his own voice surprised him.

  She rounded the corner, stepped into the alcove, and crossed her arms, her smirk visible. “Hello to you, too, soldier. Couldn’t tell which direction I was coming from, could you? Can you hear anything out of that ear?”

  Breath left his lungs in a rush as he recalled Scarface’s fist repeatedly pounding into his left ear. Over and over. “Come to finish me off?”

  “And waste my stitch-up job?”

  “You?”

  “I expected more gratitude.”

  “I’d thank you if I thought you did it for my sake.”

  She moved closer to the books and kicked the blanket aside. Ethan spotted his sword. He lunged for it, but Kara beat him to it and held it up to his neck. “Is that any way to greet a friend?”

  Ethan backed away from the blade, regretting all that quick movement. “We aren’t friends.”

  “We should be.” She leaned against the wall next to him, still holding his sword, but she lowered the weapon from his neck. Cinnamon permeated the air between them. A sultry smile spread her lips as she leaned an elbow on the tunnel wall just over his left shoulder. “Except you did poison me.”

  “We�
��re even.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Where are Jayden and Ryan?”

  “Your friends got out thanks to my sister and me.”

  “You’re the reason we were here in the first place.”

  Kara pushed off the wall and circled him like a cat with prey. “You were headed here either way.” She stopped in front of him, tempting him with the sword just out of reach. “I can’t believe you were willing to die for her.”

  She chuckled and the sharp point of a blade pressed against his stomach. No burn pulsed across his chest, nothing warned him of her ill intent. This threat was a farce.

  He looked right into her eyes. “Go ahead.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Calling my bluff. Brave. There will be a day it won’t be a bluff, but for now, I still need you.”

  “I won’t help you.”

  “I don’t need your compliance. You’ll do what I want without my bidding.” She withdrew the blade from against his stomach, propped his sword against the wall, and stood between him and his weapon. She stepped closer and handed him something else, hilt first. “Your knife, I think. I pulled it out of Nora.”

  He clutched the stolen weapon’s handle as the memory of him accidentally killing the poor serving girl seared his mind. “It was yours.”

  She shrugged. “You earned it.”

  Ethan grabbed her shirt collar in his left hand and pulled her close. He pushed the knife up to her ribs. Angled it to puncture her lungs. “I don’t need you.”

  Her eyes hardened. “Your death wish.” A prick of pain spread into his skin, the same position he held a knife to her. “Maybe you’ll be quicker, but you’ll also be dead. Right now your little Softheart is in trouble. Are you really willing to abandon her for a shot at revenge?”

  Softheart. Wasn’t that the name Kara and her sister, Thea, called Jayden? Betrayers, both of them. Revenge might be a flame that constantly tempted him, but not now. Not if it would take his attention from Jayden. Ethan retracted the knife. Kara pulled her knife back, too, her gaze still glued to his.

  A flash of heat spread across his chest a moment too late. Kara’s fist connected with the healing gash in his side. He doubled over, and she slammed him sideways into the tunnel wall. The hard rock grated against his injured arm, and a flash of white light shot through his skull as his head hit the stone. His knees weakened, and he leaned against the wall to remain upright—and to breathe. Stupid to get her angry when he was in no position to defend himself, let alone fight.