Bluewing (21 page)

“We share a mind on this,” Adam said, looking at me. His eyes darkened, and he reached out to touch my cheek. The air between us smoldered despite the chill.

“We have much to discuss,” I said, my voice raw. “You and I—”

“In due time,” Adam said. “Trust me when I say we will. But right now we need to get to shelter. It’s late.”

I nodded.

We covered ground fast, moving in sync, silent and as one. I’d forgotten what it was like to slip through the trees and rocks in a perfect and full silence that was a conversation in itself, a dance of trust and confidence and unity. Adam caught my eye occasionally, and he didn’t smile again, but his eyes gleamed in a way that meant he was happy.

The realization came over me like a warm quilt being draped over my shoulders. I loved him. I’d known it before, but...but it was strong now, certain. I wanted to speak it aloud. My tongue sizzled with the words. But I bit them back, because they were not things to be carelessly tossed into the silence, not the first time they were said. I had to breathe deeply to keep from blurting it. Adam heard the way my breathing changed, and he paused.

“What is it?”

Before I had time to reply, a shudder shook the ground, and a guttural snarl slid through the air.

A Watcher.

“Quick,” Adam said, but before we could run, the creature emerged from the trees.

It was a big one, the long neck and haunches encrusted with ice, the eyes glowing scarlet as it swept us with its gaze. My heart thudded and my throat squeezed. I reached for my knife as the creature crouched, preparing to leap.

We had no snow blossoms, no extra accoutrements that the Thorns normally carried to protect themselves. We had only my blood, and I prayed it would be enough as I drew out the knife. What if the Watcher attacked Adam anyway? Terror spiked me at the thought.

But before I could cut my finger, Adam flung himself in front of me. “Stay back, Lia,” he gasped, and then he withdrew a knife and sliced his hand.

THE WATCHER SHUDDERED at the scent of Adam’s blood. The eyes dimmed, and it drew back from him with a jerk of its neck. The snarl faded to a growl.

Shock rocked me. Adam’s blood repelled the Watcher? I didn’t understand.

But I didn’t have time to think, because the ¬Watcher was turning to me with a deep growl and a hiss of hot breath. The eyes glowed scarlet again. The haunches bunched as it prepared to spring, and the thick neck bristled.

“Lia!” Adam shouted. “Run!”

I ignored his command. My heart pounding, I drew my knife across my thumb and shoved it at the creature’s gaping jaws. The blood beaded on my skin. It ran red down my finger and a single drop fell to the snow. The Watcher stopped.

Adam whirled on me. “Lia—” He stopped, staring at my cut finger, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open. We were both still as the beast before us closed its jaws and backed away.

I met Adam’s eyes without speaking. My mind was spinning as I looked at his hand and he looked at mine. The Watcher plunged into the trees, leaving us alone. We were both panting. We were both bleeding. We were both speechless.

“You’re a Weaver?” I managed to gasp. “We’re related?”

“A Weaver?” His eyebrows drew together sharply. “No. I’m not even from the Frost.”

“But your blood...it turned away the Watchers.”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “So did yours. How did you discover the serum?”

“Serum?” What was he talking about? “I went through the gate and met my ancestor. He told me the Weaver’s secret. All this time and I never knew...”

“Wait,” Adam interrupted. “What secret?”

“Weaver blood turns away the Watchers.”

“It does?” Adam’s forehead knit with surprise. “I never...well, I knew your father had a secret he’d never told anyone else in the Thorns, but...”

It was strange to see him at a loss for words.

“What serum?” I interrupted. “You’re saying we are not related, you are not a Weaver, but your blood turns away the monsters just as mine does. Explain.”

He sighed. “You asked once how I moved so freely through the Frost, how I was confident to travel at night. I told you I had my ways. Do you remember?”

“Yes. I remember.”

He laughed, low and incredulous. “I had no idea there were other ways to evade the Watchers. I simply found a strange substance in a ruin when I was exploring one day, not long after my family had first come to Iceliss. I was inexplicably drawn to the Frost, but my family worried about me. I found a box with a syringe filled with liquid, and I found papers later explaining that the liquid would repel the beasts in the forest. I was young and stupid, stupid enough to inject myself with an unknown substance based on the ancient scribblings of a possible madman’s notebook. But...it worked. The Watchers turned away from me if they smelled my blood. But there was only one syringe, and I did not know if I would be branded a witch in the village...so I kept it a secret from everyone, even my family.”

“And was there any more?” I asked. My mind was rushing ahead—what if all Thorns operatives could have such an injection?

Adam shook his head. “Nothing that I ever found.”

I nodded. Of course not. We never had that kind of luck, not here.

Adam tore a strip of cloth from his cloak and offered it to me. I accepted it and bound up my bleeding finger as he did the same. “We have whiskey at our camp. We can properly clean these when we get there.”

“Good. Let’s keep going, then.”

We resumed our journey. I led the way. The darkness flowed around us and the trees reached out to scrape my face, but I barely registered it. Adam’s blood repelled Watchers, too. This changed, well, everything.

The night was half gone when we finally reached the field that overlooked the mansion. The moonlight glittered on the snow blossoms.

“It’s beautiful,” Adam observed quietly.

“You should have seen it 500 years ago.”

He studied me. “It should have been me, you know. I’m sorry you were thrust into that role. You were not prepared for it.”

I laughed, a low and regretful sound. “I was a wretched mess about it. But it’s good that I went. I learned some things that I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“I want to hear about it,” he said. “All of it.”

“I’ll tell you soon,” I promised, and then paused, thinking. Relief filled me. “Now that you’re here, you can be our leader again.”

“Oh,” he said, “I don’t know. I think you’ve done a better job than you realize. Perhaps you should keep the role you’ve established.”

I paused to stare at him.

“I’m serious,” he said. “I always saw you taking such a position one day. You’ve just done so earlier than anyone would have expected. And clearly, you’ve done a fine job.”

I flushed at his praise. “I’ve had to make a lot of uncomfortable decisions.” I explained to him about the Blackcoats, the Wanderers, and Korr. He listened carefully, saying nothing until I was finished.

“And do you think you’ve made the right decisions?”

“We have to do something, Adam. The people are starving. The village is being held hostage.” I thought of Ivy, of Jullia, of Edmond Dyer, even of Leon Blacksmith. Many had died or suffered or been forced into situations that were truly terrible thanks to this occupation. It was time for the madness to end. “And our situation here is not sustainable.”

“I agree,” he said.

We were quiet as we approached the house. Moving through the sea of flowers was restorative. The scent wafted around us, and the petals brushed our hands and tugged on our cloaks as we waded waist-deep through them.

“I imagine there’s no threat of Watchers here,” Adam observed aloud. “Good choice for a shelter.”

His praise warmed me, but I only shrugged. “It was Gabe’s idea to come here in the first place. We were looking for food.”

Adam’s voice was suddenly casual. “You said before that he stayed after his return?”

“They all did. Well, almost all of them.” My chest tightened. I was not looking forward to this upcoming complexity.

Adam, perhaps sensing my reluctance, looked over his shoulder and held my gaze. “I will not make it difficult,” he promised. “You will see no territorial behavior from me.”

Ivy was the first to spot us when we entered the cellar. She almost knocked Adam over with her hug, and he laughed in startled surprise. Heads swiveled our direction. Jonn looked up from his table, and the grin that split his face could have lit up the entire room.

“Brewer,” he said when we reached him. “I’m so glad to see you safe. I’m so relieved.” He looked at me. “Well done, Lia.”

Ann was dozing on her cot, but she woke at the noise and came hurrying over. “You’re safe,” she said, giving Adam a pleased smile. She threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight.

“I don’t think I breathed until I saw you back safe just now,” she whispered in my ear.

I looked around for Gabe, but he was missing.

“He’s sleeping in the greenhouse again,” Jonn offered. “He saw signs of the intruder again, and now we know it isn’t the Wanderers this time, so he’s determined to find out who or what it might be.”

I nodded. I would speak with him later. Perhaps it was best that he wasn’t here now.

“What was Aeralis like?” Ivy demanded as soon as everyone fell silent.

“Ivy,” Jonn said. “Give them a moment to rest.” But I could see he was just as curious, although he wouldn’t ask.

Adam smiled and looked to me to answer.

“Wet,” I told her. “Filled with fog and metal and glass. All the people wear long coats and hats and gloves to protect themselves from the rain and soot. And Korr lives in a palace, I can tell you that.”

An expression I couldn’t identify slipped across Ann’s face at the mention of Korr. She fiddled with her hands and didn’t speak.

“Well, that’s no surprise,” Ivy said. “He’s a lord, isn’t he?”

More than that, I thought. But nobody else knew of Gabe’s former political position as prince of Aeralis except for me and Ann, perhaps, and that meant they didn’t know about Korr’s former position, either.

Juniper joined us, and I introduced him to Adam. They shook hands.

“Juniper was the first one to find me after I made the jump,” I explained.

“And she was one of the strongest jumpers we’ve ever had,” he said.

Adam looked at me with admiration. “Of course she was. She’s one of the strongest people I know.”

I snorted, embarrassed by their praise. “I vomited on the floor.”

“Well, only once,” Juniper said.

After a while, the others drifted away to sleep, leaving Adam and me alone at the table. I told him everything that had transpired since his leaving, including my journey through the gate and things I’d learned there. He listened gravely, asking questions only occasionally. When I finished my account, I fell silent and stared at him, marveling at having him back. The memory of what had happened in the forest swept over me—the Watcher, Adam’s blood—and then something tickled at the back of my mind. An idea. I straightened.

“I must show you something. I’ve just...why didn’t I think of it before?”

He waited, perplexed, as I rummaged through Jonn’s pile of collected curiosities that he kept beneath the table. Books, parchments, journals, instruments...my hands closed over the box, and I withdrew it triumphantly. I lifted the lid and showed him the syringes.

“Is this what that serum looked like?”

Adam inhaled quietly and reached into the box to lift one syringe out. He turned it over in his hand. The contents inside the glass cylinder shimmered and danced.

“I think it is,” he said. “Of course, there would only be one way to be sure.”

Face down a Watcher. I shivered. Were we really willing to take the risk to find out?

Jonn woke some time later and dragged himself to his table to pour over plans and mutter to himself. I approached him and explained everything.

“The only way to be sure is to test it,” I finished. “I can’t, and neither can Adam, since we’re already immune. Of course you and Ivy would also be unable to test it. We’d have to use someone else.” I looked around the room, wondering who among us might agree to such a risky proposition.

“Absolutely not,” Jonn said. “It’s too dangerous. And to what end? We already have means of evading the Watchers—and we are safe here. No. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Jonn...”

“No,” he repeated. “We already have a thousand other things to worry about, Lia. Why is this so important?”

“In case you forgot, the Watchers are dangerous.”

“No. I don’t agree to this.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, brother,” I gritted out. “Just telling you what I plan to do.”

Something glimmered in his eyes—hurt? Or anger? “I thought we were a team. What happened to that?”

“I thought so too, before you went and created a fake camp and a false wall here against my wishes instead of moving us.”

“You agreed that was a good idea!”

“Maybe in time you’ll agree this is, too.” I turned to go.

“Lia,” he said. “Stop. Listen to me. We can’t get divided like this.”

I stopped. My anger simmered and then began to cool. He was right. Of course he was right. I sighed.

“What’s happening to us? We used to be so united.”

He laughed, low and forced. “Well, look at us. You’re the de facto leader of the Thorns here now, and I’m...”

“The de facto leader of everything else.” A reluctant smile began to work across my lips. “I miss the farm. I miss the simplicity of it all.”

“No, you don’t.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and then fell silent. Maybe he was right. Maybe I preferred this life of danger and intrigue, as terrifying and difficult as it was.

“Fine. We’ll wait to test the serum,” I promised.

“Thank you,” Jonn said.

I went to my cot and tried to sleep, but my mind churned with thoughts.

~

When morning came, before light had touched the sky, I left the cellar and went to the greenhouse. I paused before going in, gathering my thoughts and emotions. I didn’t know what I was going to say to Gabe.