Authors: Shawna Thomas
“That’s an interesting comment coming from the bastard son of a throwaway whore. I think you’ve forgotten your place, Keldar.”
A roar of rage filled the air seconds before the thud of two bodies clashing. What was Jaden thinking? He was in no condition…Then it struck her, this was his plan. He was creating a diversion so she could get away. A diversion that would kill him. The Svistra wouldn’t think to watch her. She was garbage. They’d be watching the brothers fight.
I’ll find you, I promise.
He’d lied. She couldn’t let him sacrifice himself for her, but what could she do?
Run.
Tears pouring down her face, she realized the only thing left to do was to make sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Crouching low, she glanced over the bushes into the clearing. The Svistra stood in a circle, cheering and yelling encouragement. She couldn’t see Jaden.
Keeping low, her vision edged in black, she ran for the river. Blood ran freely down her arm, soaking into her tunic. She wouldn’t make it far if she didn’t stop the flow but there was no time. Selia had almost reached the coolness of the forest when she heard a yell and the staccato of running feet behind her.
Selia glanced over her shoulder. In that fleeting look, a Svistra rounded the bushes and started down the slope, closing the distance between them. Fast. His face wasn’t painted but that didn’t make him any more welcome, or any less frightening. She scanned the area as she ran, looking for something she could use as a weapon—a branch, a rock, anything.
The rhythm of her pursuer’s feet echoed the pounding of her heart in her ears. Her vision darkened.
Not a good time to faint.
She couldn’t outrun him. Any moment she would feel his hand on her, pulling her back. She tried and failed to quicken her pace. Then she saw the rock.
Resolved, she stopped, scooped up the rock and curled her fingers around it, gratified by the weight in her hand. She might not be able to kill him, but she’d at least give the damn thing a headache he’d never forget before he killed her. The Svistra closed quickly now that she’d stopped. His eyes gleamed with victory. Her heart thundered in her ears. At least Jaden would never know his sacrifice was in vain.
She’d always been a good aim but she’d never had to hit a target running toward her with death in his eyes. The Svistra froze midstep, his eyes widening. Time slowed as Selia glanced down in confusion at the rock in her hands, then back at the Svistra as her would-be attacker fell forward. Arrows protruded from his back. Simultaneously she heard the thunder of horses galloping into the Svistra camp and understood the pounding wasn’t just in her ears.
The camp echoed with the sound of clashing metal.
Nathan
. He’d made it. How? It didn’t matter. She had a chance.
The rock fell to the ground with a hollow thud, and Selia almost joined it. The relief faded.
Oh gods, Jaden
. They’d kill him.
Hunched over, she ran toward the fallen Svistra. He was still alive and choking on his own blood. She should have kept the rock to finish him off. The Svistra’s sheath was empty. Had he been holding his sword? All she could clearly remember was his eyes. After a quick glance around she spotted the sword a short distance from one of his hands. Still keeping low, she scrabbled for it and pulled it out of the dirt, using its length to help her stand.
The Svistra’s eyes, the same that once brought terror, followed her movements. She recognized a warrior’s request. Selia pulled his head up by the hair and sliced his throat with his own sword.
The distance back to the camp seemed to double. Any minute she expected a Svistra to appear brandishing a sword, or one of Nathan’s men to shoot first and ask questions later. If Jaden survived the confrontation with his brother, Nathan’s men would kill him. He was just a Svistra in their eyes like all the rest. She moved toward the sound of men and Svistra dying, her desire for speed tempered by an anxious, mind-numbing caution.
The camp was a melee, a daylight version of the attack at Eagle Rock. Nathan’s soldiers outnumbered the Svistra two to one. A horse ran past her, its rider hanging lifeless from the saddle. She didn’t look to see if she knew the man.
How do I find Jaden?
A Svistra ran toward her, recognition in his eyes. Selia parried each of his blows but the force of his attack took her breath away and jarred her aching muscles. She refused to die this close to her goal. Finding an opening, she sliced through his midsection and paused to catch her breath.
Damn it. I’m in no condition for this.
A tent on one side of the camp collapsed. Soldiers ran in and out of another and pulled that one down too. Were they looking for something?
Yes, me.
How did she let them know she was here without also becoming a target?
Oren stepped out of one of the Svistra tents. All other thoughts left her mind. Covered in blood, a sword in one hand and with a fierceness that didn’t belong on his face, he was almost unrecognizable. Why had Nathan let him come? The commander wouldn’t have been able to keep Oren away.
Oh gods, this is my fault.
Suddenly Oren froze. Something in the melee caught his attention. He bellowed and charged. She lost sight of him in the mass of fighting bodies.
Jaden. It had to be.
She guessed Oren’s destination, took a deep breath and joined the battle, slowly fighting her way to where Oren fought. She thanked any gods who might be listening for her teachers as she blindly parried or sidestepped any blow directed her way. Even then she knew she owed the Trickster an offering.
I’ll pay it, I swear—just let me get to Oren and Jaden.
In a moment that stretched into eternity she glimpsed Oren fighting off Svistra, standing in the middle of the battle and refusing to move. Under him a shape lay on the ground.
Jaden. Oren’s protecting Jaden.
With renewed vigor, she fought to reach his side.
Oren’s eyes met hers. There was shock and relief in his gaze. A smile formed on his grime-stained face then just as quickly disappeared, crumpling into a grimace. He didn’t look away but slowly fell to a knee. His body sagged forward, a three-pronged Svistra blade embedded in his back.
Selia screamed. The battle still raged around her but muted now, far away. The action had slowed while her heart sped beyond what her chest could contain.
And then Oren was in her arms.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to keep him upright. “It’s okay,” she said automatically as her eyes fixed on the blades embedded in his back. With care she tore away his blood-stained shirt. He wasn’t even wearing armor.
None would fit him.
Sometimes she hated that inner voice. The middle blade had almost traversed his body. The outside blades were curved. If she tried to remove them she’d cause twice the damage. “We’ll get you out of here.” She swallowed the lie. “Then we’ll get you well.”
“Like the bobcat?”
Selia nodded. Still holding Oren’s shoulders she lowered him to his side, next to Jaden. “Like the bobcat.”
“I found you.”
“You did.”
“Just like you found me?”
Tears pricked her eyes. “Yes.” Bodies still clashed around her but the action had drifted away, or perhaps there were fewer people fighting.
Oren reached up and grasped her hand. “Jaden.”
She glanced toward the Svistra. He was curled into a ball but his back moved in then out. “He’s alive. Don’t move.”
Oren reached up to touch her face. “You’re crying.”
Warm tears spilled down Selia’s face, but she shook her head. “I’m okay, Oren.”
“I’m tired now.”
“I know.” She swallowed past a lump in her throat. In the dusty light she could make out a few bodies still joined in combat. Where had everyone gone? She couldn’t move Oren by herself. “I have to get you out of here.”
And even as she said it she knew it was too late. Oren’s hand fell away from her face and his eyes closed. Selia held Oren’s hand to her mouth and let her tears fall.
She felt more than saw Jaden struggle at her side. The sounds of battle had faded. She looked up into a blurry world and blinked. Nathan’s soldiers stood in a circle around them, spears and swords pointing in their direction. After a moment of confusion she turned toward Jaden then back to the soldiers, let go of Oren’s hand and launched her body over the Svistra’s, turning so her hands supported her weight but she could face their attackers. “Leave him alone.”
Relief and sorrow turned into confusion. Nathan stood, too shocked to move, staring at the tattered remains of Selia’s clothing. Her stomach and her right breast, the skin the dark red of a future bruise, could clearly be seen. What had they done to her?
He gripped his sword, itching for one more Svistra to slaughter as the tears flowed down Selia’s grime-coated face. The one under her would do just fine. He cautioned his man back a pace and swallowed his anger. The important thing was to get her away before the Svistra regained consciousness.
“Selia, that’s not Oren,” he spoke slowly and carefully as he would a child playing with a viper.
Her eyes focused and she blinked. “Nathan?”
“You’re safe now. The Svistra have all fled.” He stretched out his hand.
Except that one under you.
“Come here, and we’ll take care of you.”
“Nathan,” she repeated. There was relief and something else in her voice.
“Yes. Come here, Selia. Oren is dead. There’s nothing more you can do for him.”
Selia’s brows drew together, her eyes unfocused. Then a laugh that turned into a sob broke from her chest. “I won’t let you kill him. Oren died protecting this man. I won’t let his sacrifice be in vain.”
Nathan closed his jaw. To protect a Svistra? Had she lost her wits? “He’s not a man. He’s a Svistra.”
A half-dead one at that.
“Move aside, and then we’ll make sure Oren is sent to the gods with full honors.”
She shook her head, her dark eyes fierce. “He’s not just a Svistra. His name is Jaden. He saved my life. He is…he is our friend. He is
my
friend. If you kill him, you’ll have to kill me first.”
Outrage rippled through the soldiers.
Fuck
. Nathan gestured to his men to lower their spears. To them she’d just committed the ultimate betrayal, and more than a few would honor her request.
Selia glanced at the soldiers then back at him. “He can help you, Nathan. He can go where humans can’t. He’s on our side.”
She was deranged. They’d broken her; he was too late. The murmurs of his men grew to a low rumble. Sorrow pierced his breast. He was too late.
Nathan raised one hand. He glanced from Selia to the unconscious form of the Svistra and back again. The Svistra would probably die of his wounds before the day was out, but a prisoner of war might not be such a bad thing. “Is this true?”
“Yes. It is. He helped me get so far north. I didn’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand. Jaden is, is different. He’ll help you. I know he will.” Her words tumbled over themselves and felt like cold water on his brain. She believed it and the more she spoke, the less she sounded deranged and the more desperate. A desperate woman trying to save…what exactly?
Nathan glared at the Svistra then back to Selia. His chin came up a fraction. “Prepare a travois. The Svistra is a prisoner. If he survives we’ll know soon enough if he’s of any use.”
The men hesitated, shooting disbelieving glances at one another. Nathan turned his back to survey the rest of the camp. “Deigon, Bosun, carry the prisoner back to Eagle Rock and place him in a room under guard.” He glanced around the field. “There ought to be several empty to choose from.” Nathan pitched his voice to carry. “Prepare the wounded. We go back to Eagle Rock today.” He turned back toward the wounded Svistra and muttered, “I won’t stay in this stinking place any longer than I have to.”
Selia rose but didn’t leave Jaden’s side.
“Commander. What about her?” one of the men asked.
Nathan turned and met Selia’s gaze. “Are you injured?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean—” She glanced down at her bleeding arms and pulled the remnants of her tunic together.
Nathan stepped forward and gingerly inspected the wounds. “These should be stitched. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Selia nodded.
“You won’t leave his side?”
She shook her head.
Nathan stared at her. She wasn’t a traitor, he’d bet his life on it. But what if his admiration had clouded his vision? He shrugged off the metal shirt, then took off his tunic and handed the garment to Selia. “Put this on.”
Nathan pulled the metal shirt back over his head and turned to one of the men. “She will accompany him and…” he paused, “will be allowed to tend him, but take her weapons and watch her.” A hard smile flirted with his mouth but lost the battle. “Do not underestimate her because she’s a woman.”
Selia watched Nathan walk away. She turned to the men who hastily constructed a travois. Two men lifted Oren’s body and dragged it away. Her feet took a few steps toward them of their own accord. She should be with Oren. She was supposed to take care of him. That was her job. It was her meaning. Her life.
She looked down at Jaden. He hadn’t moved since Nathan spoke and if not for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, he could have been dead too.
One of Nathan’s men touched her shoulder, and she jumped. “We’ve got to move him,” he said with only a trace of emotion in his voice.
Selia stepped to one side.
“Never thought I’d be tending a Svistra,” another man muttered.
“Well get a move on, Deigon, before the other Svistra come back. Would you rather tend them?”
Bosun.
The name drifted out of some memory she couldn’t quite access.
“Yeah, actually I would,” Deigon replied.
Bosun took Jaden by the shoulders and Deigon his feet, lifting and placing him on the travois. Deigon mumbled about the stink of a Svistra then glanced to Selia and completed his task in silence.
Jaden looked much the same as he had when she first saw him. For a moment vertigo assailed her as though she’d gone back in time. She blinked. She wasn’t anywhere near her barn and Oren…
She glanced back the way they’d taken Oren’s body but he was gone.
Gone? He can’t be.
“We’ll send him off proper,” Bosun said.
“Thank you.” Her voice sounded like it came from someone else’s throat.
“Let’s go,” the other soldier said.
Afraid her numb legs wouldn’t carry her, Selia fell into step beside Jaden, one hand on his chest to assure herself he was still breathing. One of his eyes was swollen closed. Deep red marks, which would soon darken to purple, colored his face. But he was Jaden. And he was alive.
She glanced at him when he moaned but didn’t feel anything. Not hope, not despair, nothing. The voice in her brain reminded her she should feel something. Oren had just died. Jaden might die. But it felt like she was hollow or once again walking in the White Forest, separate from everything living, just an observer in her body. She knew the thought should terrify her, but it didn’t. She didn’t feel anything at all and at that moment, she didn’t care if she ever did.