Rayne threw herself at Segyn in an apparent rage, but the large man pushed her aside with little expended effort. Rayne landed on her backside in the dirt, and Segyn spun about to point the tip of his sword at her chest. Lyr could not yet hear, but he managed to read Segyn’s lips.
Move and I gut you.
So, they weren’t working together after all. It was just Segyn, only Segyn, and somehow that was worse.
When Rayne was still and properly warned, Segyn turned his attention to Lyr again. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to Lyr’s, and shouted to be heard. “Where is the crystal dagger?”
Lyr would’ve shaken his head, but still could not move.
“Of course, you can’t tell me just yet.” Segyn dropped to his haunches, casual and easy as if he had not just murdered two comrades and now threatened a friend. “I could search for it, but in a little bit you will be able to speak again. Before you can move, you’ll regain your hearing and your speech.” Again, there was that smile which was not Segyn’s and yet... was. “I had planned to wait a while longer before making my move, but when I saw the yettle berry bush so near to the place we stopped, I decided it was meant to be. That isn’t a plant you see every day, after all, so it seemed quite fortuitous. I’ve worried quite a bit about how I might kill you without taking the chance that you’d stop time for me in the midst of an attack. You’re such a light sleeper, especially when we’re traveling.”
Apparently Rayne moved, because Segyn’s head snapped around. This time, Lyr could hear his words. “You likely know I won’t gut you, not before Emperor Ciro gets his hands on you. I will, however, make you very uncomfortable, and I will gut your lover slowly while you watch, rather than offering him a quick death. So sit yourself down and don’t move until I tell you to move. Don’t look at me that way as if you think you can fight me. What are you going to do, pelt me with berries and flowers?” Segyn laughed harshly at that concept.
Lyr wished he could see Rayne, but he could not. At the moment he could see nothing but blue skies above and the face of a traitorous friend.
Segyn returned his attention to Lyr. “We have a little time, and I did promise to tell you about my kitchen maid, didn’t I? It’s a tale I’ve often longed to share, but could not. Not until now.” He leaned slightly closer, as if to make sure no detail was missed. “I made use of her, the same way you have taken to making use of Emperor Ciro’s bride, and she loved me. She loved me even more than you love me. You do love me, don’t you, m’lord? Not the way she did, of course, but as a young man loves a father or an older brother. You trusted your life to me, more than once.”
Yes. Lyr still could not speak, but the word echoed in his brain.
“She saw in me the man I wanted her to see, just as you did. I showed her only the face I wished the world to know. I was a lover, a friend, a trusted companion, and she never saw beyond what I wished her to see. It’s been difficult, as you can imagine, hiding my true self in the midst of wizards and seers, with witches all around. I had to become someone else for a while, and let my true self sleep.” He smiled a chilling smile. “I killed her. She was my first. Like you, she didn’t see it coming. Even when I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed, she thought it was a joke. Until the moment she died, my little kitchen lover did not think me capable of taking her life. She was wrong.”
Segyn slapped Lyr’s cheek soundly, but Lyr felt nothing. “Can you speak yet? I need that dagger so I can dispose of it properly.” He opened Lyr’s vest and patted down the sides and his pants. His hands skimmed right over the dagger, and yet he seemed not to feel it. Segyn’s speed and clumsiness or magic? He had never known Segyn to be clumsy.
“We can’t have just anyone stumbling across that special weapon,” Segyn said. “It’s on you somewhere, I suppose. In your boot? A hidden sheath? Maybe in your saddle bag, but I doubt it. You wouldn’t want to walk away from such a treasure, not even for a moment. Besides, I’ve already searched your saddlebags, while the berries I pointed out to Ciro’s bride filled your stomach and did their work. You can tell me where the dagger is and we’ll make this quick, or I can tear you apart until I find it.”
Again, Segyn’s head snapped around to look at Rayne. “What do you think you’re—”
It happened so quickly, Segyn was cut off in mid-sentence. A thick length of vine twined around the arm which held his sword. The massive, muscled arm was yanked up and the weapon was tossed aside. Other vines, also thick and moving quickly and unnaturally, wrapped snakelike around Segyn’s legs and his other arm, yanking the traitor away from Lyr, throwing him down to the ground with force, and then pinning him there. Leaves twitched as if alive, dancing around the stem, which pulsed gently.
When Segyn was restrained, Rayne rushed forward and leaned over Lyr. “We have to get out of here. Can you move yet? Can you speak?”
No.
“I don’t know how long the vine will hold him.”
Segyn shouted. He screamed and howled like a trapped animal. “There is nowhere you can go that you’ll be safe, boy. If you escape me now, an army will come after you. They’ll be ready for you and your tricks, and they’ll find a way to stop you just as I did. You’ll sleep, or you’ll let your guard down, and they’ll be there. When that happens, the demon’s soldiers will take her from you and they’ll leave you in pieces on the road. They’re coming for you. They’re coming soon and you won’t know they’re before you until it’s too late! Can you hear their hoofbeats on the road?”
Lyr began to feel a tingling on his face as Rayne tried to help him into a sitting position. He was too heavy for her, and he ended up lying on his side. He almost wished she had left him where he lay flat on his back, for now he had a gruesome view. Til and Swaine had been ruthlessly murdered while helpless, killed by a man they had trusted just as he had.
“Shut up!” Rayne screamed as she scurried about gathering berries dusted with dirt. She’d dropped them on the ground, but now she gathered a handful and rushed toward Segyn.
When she got close she stopped, afraid to move any closer. Like him, like Swaine and Til, she’d trusted Segyn, but that trust had died a quick and certain death. She dropped down and thrust her fingers into the dirt, and segments of the vine which imprisoned Segyn crept toward her. Moving like a snake, the vine crept closer. Though it was unnatural and, to Lyr’s mind, inexplicable, she was not afraid. A sturdy leaf growing from the stem plucked a berry from Rayne’s hand. One and then another, the leaves plucked until her hand was empty, and then the vine moved toward Segyn.
Knowing what she intended, what the unnatural plant itself intended, Segyn tried to clamp his mouth shut. He was no match for the vine which moved at Rayne’s command, a creeping and oddly strong plant which pried his lying lips apart and force-fed him the paralyzing berries. Purple juice spewed from his mouth and down his chin, but some of the berries made their way past stubborn lips and clenched teeth.
In moments Segyn dropped to the ground, not dead but helpless and no longer fighting against the plant which restrained him. The berries had paralyzed him and the vine continued to bind him.
Again, Rayne attempted to help him up. He was beginning to feel again. A tingling sensation rippled in his arms and legs, and breathing was easier. The paralysis caused by the berries was temporary, which meant Segyn would be mobile again very soon.
“We must hurry,” Rayne said as she tugged at his hand. “Please tell me you can move, please tell me we won’t be sitting here when Ciro’s soldiers arrive.”
He wasn’t sure that part of Segyn’s speech had held any truth. He’d confessed that he’d chosen this moment to reveal his true nature because they stumbled across the berries. That was happenstance, so it couldn’t be possible that a planned attack was about to take place.
Still, Lyr didn’t know what to believe at this moment. He’d trusted Segyn without question, and that trust had been horribly misplaced. The older man was right. Lyr had loved him, like a brother or
a second father, like a friend who would never do what he had done.
With great effort and Rayne’s help, Lyr rose to his feet. He moved slowly and clumsily, as if there were rocks and grit among his bones.
“Hurry.” Rayne tugged on his arm. “We must leave before Ciro’s soldiers arrive. You are in no shape to fight an entire army.”
He was well trained, and he had an extraordinary gift, but Lyr had never attempted to fight an army on his own. He’d never even imagined he might be called upon to face such a task. In the weeks to come, he would need to rest, even if just for short periods of time. If the opposing army—or a single soldier—came while he slept, he might be killed before he had a chance to stop time. There was no one to watch his back, not anymore. There was no one but Rayne.
Rayne’s grip steadied him as he drew his sword and stepped toward Segyn.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Her grip tightened. “You can’t kill him. He’s helpless, and... and no matter what he’s done, he’s your friend.”
Lyr turned his head to look down at Rayne. Her cheeks were damp with tears, and she was very pale. She wanted to escape this situation, to ride away quickly and forget all that she had seen here.
He did not have the luxury of taking escape.
“If we leave him alive, he will come after us. He will tell Ciro’s men of your talents, and they will be on guard. He will tell Ciro that you are no longer the pure maid he chose as his betrothed.”
If he thought he could ride away from the bound man and never face the consequences of that weakness, he would gladly do so. He did not wish to take the life of a man who could not defend himself, but when he looked at what remained of Til and Swaine, when he looked at Rayne and wondered what Ciro’s soldiers would do to her if they got the chance, he knew he had no choice.
His sword was heavy, much heavier than usual thanks to the weakness in his limbs, but he was able to lift it enough to point the tip at Segyn’s heart. Segyn could not speak, could not move, but his eyes spoke of fear. Even a fiend could fear for his own life.
Lyr trembled, a combination of a lingering weakness from the poison berries he’d eaten and the realization of what he was about to do. This was Segyn, and yet it was not.
He pushed the blade cleanly into Segyn’s chest, into the black heart which was capable of unspeakable treachery. He did not immediately turn to face Rayne, the woman who continued to hold on to him. Lyr could hear Rayne’s tears; he did not wish for her to see his.
***
Since there was a small chance that Segyn had been right in telling them that Ciro’s army was close, Lyr changed his course of travel. Instead of taking infrequently traveled roads, he turned into the forest itself. He explained to Rayne that he’d studied the maps of Columbyana carefully before starting his journey to retrieve the dagger he now possessed, and while the roads they’d been upon for many days were the easiest route to the site where Ariana’s army should be at this time, the swamp which lay beyond the forest was a more direct one. If they didn’t run into trouble along the way, they’d reach Ariana and General Merin more quickly. He now felt an urgency to do just that.
Rayne was not at all eager to discover what awaited in the swamp.
Lyr hadn’t said a word since they’d left the others behind, all dead, and Rayne had remained silent as well. She didn’t know what to say to take away his obvious pain. Maybe some things could not be helped with words of comfort. Maybe some pain went too deep.
Instead of the regulated column of five, they were now two. Lyr had freed the other horses, mounts which were no longer necessary as the men they had carried for such a long time were dead.
She mourned silently for Tiller and Swaine, new friends who had lost their lives too soon. As hard as their loss was for her to bear, how painful it must be for Lyr. They had been his men; he’d known them longer, better than she had.
It was difficult to travel in the forest after darkness fell, so they had no choice but to stop. Here the moonlight did not light their way. Instead it was caught in the leaves overhead, and as the pathway they made was not free of obstacles, they were forced to rest, no matter how much they wanted to move onward and away from the scene of betrayal and death.
Lyr saw to the horses first, then he built a small fire in the clearing where they would make camp until morning. Still, he did not speak. He unpacked food and handed Rayne some, but did not eat himself. After inadvertently feeding Lyr poisoned berries, she found she could not urge him to eat. Tomorrow, perhaps, if he did not display a return of appetite of his own accord, she would find a way to suggest that he take some nourishment.
It was bold of her, perhaps, to seek him out, but Lyr was her lover, and they were now alone in this endeavor. What sense did it make to settle on the ground far apart, alone and cold and shaken to the core? Rayne sat next to Lyr, who was near the fire staring at the flames, and without hesitation she placed her head in his lap. She wasn’t sure how he would react, since he was obviously shaken, but he didn’t order or push her away. Instead he settled one hand in her hair and seemed grateful for the touch, however innocent.
After a while, he finally spoke. “Segyn said I would be burned one day,” Lyr said softly. “I thought he was speaking of you, or perhaps of women in general, but in the end he was the one who did the deed himself. I wonder if he would think me done now.”
“Done?”
“Finished. Burned. Done.”
She didn’t exactly get his meaning, but in a way she understood enough. Until now, Lyr had never been hurt. Not like this.
A moment later, the first raindrop fell. Lyr made a snorting sound of disgust. “Not a drop of rain since we left your house, and now, on this of all days, it begins.”
They were almost sheltered by the trees above, but there were gaps where raindrops could fall through. When water gathered on the leaves, it would drop upon them in streams. Rayne worked her fingers in the dirt. Directing the growth of the berries this afternoon had been relatively easy, but calling on the vines to entrap Segyn had drained her. She didn’t know if she had any magic left, but she tried. She whispered to the dirt and the trees and the bushes, she asked them to provide for her shelter. In a matter of moments they closed in around her and Lyr. The overlapping leaves formed a shield which protected them from most of the rain.
“Your gift is much more useful than mine,” Lyr said. “At least, it has seemed so since revealing itself.”
“You saved my life with your gift,” she said.
“You saved mine with yours.”
They lay down on the ground together, the leaves forming a sort of tent around them. Lyr wrapped his arms about her. Again he was silent, and she hated the deep quiet when she knew neither of them were near sleep.
“I once thought all magic was bad,” she said. “Of course, I only had my father as an example, and magic twisted him horribly. The more power he possessed, the more he wanted. He was a wizard by birth and in that he had no choice, but he did have a choice in how he used what he’d been given. I thought all magic corrupted those it touched, but you don’t seem to be damaged by your gifts. I don’t want to be corrupted by mine,” she added softly. “I don’t want my soul to be tainted by a greedy darkness.”
“I thought tainting your soul was what you wanted.”
“No,” she whispered. “For a short while I thought that was the way, but the spirit, the soul, is too important to treat in such a manner. I think I knew that all along, but my fear of Ciro made me desperate.” She stroked her hand against his back. “I don’t feel desperate anymore, Lyr. I don’t know if I will be forced to hide or to fight, but I won’t give him my soul in any way.”
“I think that’s wise.”
Now was likely not the time to tell Lyr that she would gladly give him her soul. As she finally drifted toward what she suspected would be an uneasy sleep, it occurred to her that perhaps she already had.
>
After a long bout of silence, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Rain pattered on a roof of entwined leaves, lulling her, pulling her toward dreams. She would sleep tonight, after all, and she would likely have horrible nightmares.
“For a moment this afternoon I suspected you. I thought you were the traitor. I thought you had killed me with those poison berries.”
Her heart became heavy, even though she understood why Lyr had believed her to be guilty. She had been the one to give him the berries, after all. “I will never hurt you,” she whispered.
“I know that now, I truly do.”
Rayne buried her face against Lyr’s chest and held on tight. She listened to the patter of rain above their heads, and sleep came.
***
Ciro had discovered that he didn’t need much sleep since the demon had taken him. When he did sleep, he had vivid dreams that he knew were not exactly dreams. They were uncontrolled glimpses through the eyes of others who were connected to the demon, and so to him.
What he saw on this night terrified him. Rayne was not where she should be. She was in the care of another, in the embrace of a warrior who thought he could protect her.
A warrior who had already taken that which should’ve been Ciro’s to take.
He came awake instantly and in a rage. Rayne would still wed him, she would give birth to their son as he and the Isen Demon had planned, but in many ways she had been ruined by the man who now protected her. Her time as his wife would not be as pleasant as it might’ve been if she’d waited for him. She would pay for her sin a thousand times.
She thought to soil her soul but she only made it brighter.
“How?”
The demon did not answer, but Ciro knew. Love. Rayne thought herself in love with the man who’d taken that which was rightfully his.
His empress had been fouled by another man.
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