Alliance Forged (41 page)

She’d done all she could to convince Varian he meant the world to her. The journey was now his to walk. The decision to join her or leave her to go on alone was his.

Kymora shivered and pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Outside the
Na’Chi
apartments, her two Light Blade guards were waiting for her.

“Where to,
Temple Elect
?” Ehrinne inquired.

The question gave her pause. She needed some time to meditate, to restore her calm, but returning to the Temple wasn’t an option. Once there she be swamped with duties she hadn’t the patience for at the moment. The prayer room would be full of those completing morning petitions. The gardens were just as popular, a good place for quiet thought, and her apartment held too many memories.

“Let’s walk, just around the compound,” she replied. “I need some fresh air.”

The pathway they took curved behind the Temple and away from the apartments. While the morning was warming, the shadows thrown by the buildings cooled the air. She breathed deeply, keeping her pace steady, letting the tap of her staff on the gravel walkway settle into a soothing rhythm.

Lost in meditation, Kymora wasn’t sure when she realized the crunching sound of their footsteps had tripled in volume. Ten separate
auras, all focused and intent, brushed against her mind. She half turned to ask who had joined them when Ehrinne shouted out.

“
Temple Elect!
To your left and behind!”

Kymora spun, her staff already swinging when somebody tackled her from the side and took her to the ground. The impact stunned her. She lost her staff. It clattered away across the stones. The clash of weapons and cries filled the air.

Hands shoved her onto her stomach and wrenched her arms behind her back. The odor of sour sweat washed over her. She bucked but whoever pinned her to the ground weighed twice as much. Coarse rope wrapped around her arms, then the rest of her body.

“Gag her! Hurry!” A second pair of hands grabbed her hair. Her head was pulled back. A length of material was forced between her lips and wound around her head. All sound deadened as whatever was being used covered her ears.

Lady’s Breath, no!

She screamed, the hoarse tone smothered by the thickness of material in her mouth. The body astride hers shifted. Something heavy covered her head, smelling dust dry and grainy, the texture thick and rough. A miller’s bag? It was jerked down over her shoulders.

Her world shrank fast to the pounding of her heart and her rapid breaths sucking in through her nose. Hands lifted her. She grunted as something dug into her midriff. A shoulder? Then jolting, lasting minutes or seconds. She had no way of measuring, not with panic eating away at her sense of time. Where was she being taken?

Tears burned in her eyes. Kymora tried to force them back. If she cried, her nose would block. She’d be unable to breathe. She’d suffocate. She tried to slow her breathing.

One thought filled her head.

Survive
.

V
ARIAN pulled on a fresh shirt as he crossed the floor in the main room. Tucking it in, he reached for his weapons belt sitting on the middle of the table, and then frowned. A golden sun disc with a broken thong rested next to it. It was Kymora’s
Temple Elect
amulet.

“I’ve never wanted a man more in my life than you.”
Such passion and torment wrapped into her voice. Her every word had pierced his soul, hacked and slashed at it until nothing remained but tatters.

“When you decide what my love is worth to you, let me know.”

He winced at the memory of her standing with her back to him, hunched over, as if warding off a blow. Her pain had left him feeling lower than the dirt under his boots. He’d wanted to close the distance between them, pull her into his arms, and beg her to forgive him.

But he’d done the right thing by letting her go. It was the only way he knew to keep her safe. His hand shook as he picked up the amulet and fingered the design. Why had she left it behind?

A knock sounded on his apartment door. His fingers curled around the amulet.

“Enter!” he called, more than willing to be distracted from his thoughts.

The door swung opened.

“Varian.” The hoarse strain in the deep voice snapped his head up to look at his guest. Kalan stood there, his forest green gaze, so like Kymora’s, turbulent and dark. Tight lines of tension grooved the lines on his tanned face. He clutched a rolled parchment in his fist. “I need your help.”

The sour stench of fear assailed his nostrils. He’d never seen the human leader so anxious, not even when he’d been wounded and facing death. Uneasiness crawled across the back of his neck. What had him so afraid?

“What’s wrong?” Varian motioned the human to take a seat and took the one opposite. “Is it the search?”

The older man shook his head and scraped a hand through his dark hair. It looked like he’d done that several times already.

“That no longer has priority.” Varian stiffened and took a breath. Kalan held up a hand, stalling him and placed the piece of parchment on the table. “This is a letter from the rebels demanding the release of Davyn.” His voice lowered. “It was found pinned with a Light Blade dagger on the ground next to Kymora’s two slain bodyguards.”

Shock ricocheted through Varian, searing every cell and nerve in his body. The beast inside him roared. His vision darkened, and half a heartbeat later it lightened, only this time with crimson overtones.

Kalan’s hand gripped his forearm. “Don’t lose it,
Na’Chi
. I need you.” His fingers dug into his muscle. “Kymora needs you.”

Varian locked gazes with his. “Kymora?”

“The rebels want to exchange her for Davyn.”

“They have her?” The thought of her in their hands… He shied away from the dark images hovering at the back of his mind. He didn’t dare let them surface. A shudder tore through him. “Where?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’ve come to you. I need your skills in tracking and you know her scent better than anyone.” The warrior’s gaze never flickered, but the knowledge of his and Kymora’s relationship was there. “We need to find her fast. They’ve given us until midday to free Davyn and open the city gates.”

The threat to Kymora piggybacked on his words.

A shiver grated along Varian’s spine. “That’s only a few hours from now.”

His gaze dropped to the amulet in his fist as emotions and memories poured through him, the most recent ones of their argument. They hurt. They ached and burned so fiercely he wasn’t sure he could bear it. The metal edge bit into the skin of his palm.

“Who else knows about the letter?” Gravel grated in his voice.

“Just the Temple acolytes who found the bodies, the watch on duty in the compound who was alerted by them, me, and you. I haven’t announced this to the Council yet. I can’t.” Kalan’s lips pressed into a hard, thin line. “It would mean civil war.”

Varian let out a ragged breath and glanced down at the disc in his fingers.

Kalan’s indrawn breath was harsh. “That’s Kymora’s amulet.”

“She left it here this morning.” He could feel the warrior’s stare. “We… argued.” The admission twisted his gut.

“About what?”

Varian averted his gaze. “Us. The future. She told me she loved me.” A derogatory sound welled deep in his throat as a cold empty void yawned inside him. “And I shut her down. Told her there was no us. No future.”

“Why?”

“Everyone I’ve ever loved has been hurt.” It hurt to breathe. “I didn’t want the same happening to her. I thought by doing what I did, it would keep her safe.” The coldness inside him grew. “I failed.”

He stared at the swirling grain pattern on the top of the table, waiting for Kalan’s anger, expecting retribution for his failure, prepared to accept it.

“No.” The grip on his arm firmed. “You made a mistake. That’s human.” Varian looked up. A wry smile curved Kalan’s lips, but then his expression grew serious. “Do you love Kymora?”

He frowned. Opened his mouth. The words stuck in his throat. He forced them out. “More than my own life,
Chosen
.”

And that was the
Lady
-sworn truth. Declaring his love for Kymora left him feeling exposed, like a
lira
out on the plains, but there was no denying the rush of peace he felt after saying it. It was like she held him in her arms. He could almost feel the palm of her hand pressed against the center of his chest.

“Did she tell you why she left the amulet?”

Varian shook his head. “I found it a moment before you walked in.”

“The tie is broken.” Kalan ran a finger along the frayed ends of the thong. “Anyone who wishes to end their service with the
Lady
—Light Blade or Servant—has only to break the chain of their amulet. It doesn’t mean they’ve put aside their faith, just whatever position they hold.”

Varian’s jaw loosened, his lips parted in shock. “Kymora’s resigned as
Temple Elect
?”

“She told me yesterday. She asked me to say nothing until she’d spoken to you.”

“Why would she break her service? The Temple is her life!”

“Kymora follows the
Lady’s
will.” A gentle smile curved the warrior’s mouth. “She walks the path of her Fourth Journey. Her path is now with you. With the
Na’Chi
.”

Kymora had chosen him over her role as
Temple Elect
? Why hadn’t she said something to him this morning? But he knew why, and wished he could relive that time over again.

“
Blessed Mother
, I’ve done this all so wrong,” he groaned.

“Then let’s go make it right, my friend.” Kalan squeezed his forearm. “Gather your scouts and let’s begin the hunt.”

Varian nodded, and as he rose, he tied the broken amulet around his neck. For safekeeping and to feel Kymora close to his heart. He was going to need her strength, because he couldn’t find her alone. He was going to need the senses and skills of his darker half. As much as that scared him, he was going to have to gamble everything—his life, his heart, his soul—to succeed.

And Kymora’s love and a future with her were worth that risk.

KYMORA counted, for time didn’t exist. Whoever had kidnapped her was gone. Wherever they’d taken her, they’d abandoned her there. Whatever she lay in left her no room to move in any direction. She’d tried. Escape wasn’t possible. The rope, the canvas, whatever she was locked in, it kept her immobile.

Helpless
.

No movement.

No sound.

No auras.

Almost no sensation.

Someone had made a hole in whatever covered her head, near her nose, big enough to let blessed, fresh air in, but that was it.

All that remained in her world was nothingness. And terror, with its chilly fingers wrapped around her throat.

What had happened to Ehrinne and Nendal? Had the warriors survived? Her kidnappers had to be rebels, but what did they want? Had anyone noticed she was missing yet?

Her heart raced.

What if they never found her?

Mother of Light,
please hear my plea and deliver me from fear and despair.

Her simple prayer became a mantra. She fought to stave off the panic that threatened to shut her in ice. Succumbing would leave her trapped in her mind.

Or she would give in to her tears. She couldn’t cry.

Madness or death.

Kymora shuddered. She’d come so close to both during the fever-induced darkness brought on by Claret-rash.

She’d survived that.

She would endure this.

Mother of Light,
please hear my plea and deliver me from fear and despair.

“T
HE blood-scent ends here, Varian.” Zaune crouched at the cross section of two streets, one hand framing a ruby-colored stain on the cobblestoned roadway. He tilted his head into the slight breeze, nostrils flaring, then shook his head. “All I can smell is human waste and rotten garbage.”

Varian wrinkled his nose, agreeing with the young scout. The stench was almost overpowering; he could taste the foulness of it at the back of his throat. The renegade Light Blade they were tracking bled arterial blood, the scent of it fresh and strong. He was surprised the warrior had made it this far.

Perhaps death had already claimed the warrior, and his companions had taken him with them to keep his identity a secret. Dark satisfaction coursed through his veins. One less rebel would suit him just fine.

“Where do these roads lead,
Chosen
?” he asked.

Kalan peered down each, his brows dipping into a frown. “The one headed west goes back to Bartertown. That one with the
burnt-out dwellings curves southeast but ends up taking you to the Guild storage factories. Ahead leads straight to Waterside Dock.”

Varian exchanged a look with Zaune. They’d lost the trail of Lisella’s attackers near Waterside Dock. The similarity of circumstances couldn’t be just coincidence, could it? Pivoting, his gaze strafed the ramshackle buildings.

Most were poorly constructed and only a handful were taller than a single story. Very few were made entirely of the same material, and all of them were joined together so that they formed one long row of connected houses.

They were like the homes constructed by the human slaves within the
Na’Reish
fortress. Some had small overhanging roofs. The odd bench or chair congregated like bleaters beneath them. All empty of people but that didn’t mean they weren’t at home. Faces peaked out dirty windows, but no one came out onto the street to greet them.

Kalan drew level with him. “Coppertown has the largest population of all the sectors in Sacred Lake.” He pointed with his chin to a tunnel-like corridor twisting its way into darkness beneath a section of dilapidated two-story buildings. “With so many alleyways and snickleways, this place is like a digger-warren. Easy to get lost in, and even easier to hide within.”

Movement caught the corner of Varian’s gaze. A young boy with a shock of blond hair, a few years older than Tovie, sidled around the edge of the darkened snickleway. His pale eyes surveyed them all with a wariness well beyond his years. He scrubbed a dirty foot against the damaged wall, then leaned against it, his posture deceptively lazy.