Bound (Bound Trilogy) (20 page)

“Henderson? You take a few men and head north. He might have given them a mixed-up idea about that, too. We’re supposed to watch for these things.”

“Yes, sir.” The sound of Henderson’s footsteps grew fainter, but the other one stayed behind. The stair creaked, and the closet door moved in as something pushed on it. Aren tensed, and I held my breath. A scratching noise came from outside, then a sigh. “Damn it,” the man muttered, and the door settled back into place. Footsteps descended the stairs, and the door at the bottom slammed shut.

My heart slowed, but I couldn’t stop shaking. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, not speaking, breathing in the closet’s musty air. It seemed like hours, but I felt certain that as soon as we opened the door someone would decide to come storming back up the stairs and spot us. I was fine waiting. There were worse places to be. I felt safe with Aren.

I looked up, but it was too dark to see his face. Was he using magic, sensing the people around us? I never felt anything when he did it, but his eyes sharpened when he focused on his magic. I shivered as I thought of that look. Frightening, but dangerously attractive. I suddenly became more aware of his arms around me.

“They’re gone,” he whispered, and lowered his hands to his sides. My own fingers seemed frozen, and I had trouble letting go of him. I reached out and felt for the latch.

Aren stepped out, brushed cobwebs from his hair, and then held out a hand to help me. I was glad for that. My legs were like jelly, and I expected to fall out of the cupboard and roll down the stairs.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and gave me an uncomfortable smile. “How did you know that door was there?”

“Hide-and-seek. I almost got stuck in a closet like that when I was a kid.” I reached behind me for our bags, then pressed the door closed.

Aren took his things and started back up the stairs. I followed cautiously. “Aren’t we leaving?”

“I just want to see something. It’s safe enough, now.”

The doors to the bedrooms were all open. I’d locked ours when we left, and it hung off of its hinges, cracked in the middle. Every room we passed was ripped apart, mattresses overturned and wardrobes emptied. Most had been unoccupied, but I still felt terrible for the people who would have to clean up the mess. I doubted Henderson or Sir would be back to help with that.

Aren leaned against the wall and crouched, resting his forehead in his hands. I sat across from him and waited. He looked up. “That was too close.”

I laughed, mostly out of relief. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s much more difficult to sense danger when there are other people around, getting in the way.”

“That’s not your fault. I guess we’ve been lucky so far.”

“Maybe. But I should have known they were coming long before I did. I must have been sleeping more deeply than I realized.”

“No harm done.”

“For now.” He stood and offered a hand to pull me up. “I couldn’t have picked a better person to be stuck in a closet with, though.” He picked up his bag again and headed toward the dark staircase.

I hoped I wasn’t blushing. That would have been stupid.

Chapter Twenty

Aren

W
hat the hell is wrong with me?

I couldn’t look at Rowan as we walked to the stable. It wasn’t like me to speak on impulse, to say something that revealed so much of myself. But then, I’d been acting out of character too much in the past few days. It was so much easier before. I knew my place, knew what I was supposed to be doing, and who I was supposed to be.

Now that I had thrown that life away, I couldn’t seem to remember who I was.

I’d made a plan before I fell asleep
.
Get her to safety, find someone to break the binding, leave her to make a new life for herself wherever she chose. We’d both be safer once we were apart. Severn would follow me. He didn’t need her as much as he needed his revenge. And I would be better able to escape without her. The decision should have pleased me, but it left me feeling empty.

She was becoming more of a distraction as the days passed. In spite of the trouble she caused and the way she always had something to talk about, I found myself enjoying her company, wanting to touch her, to make her smile or to tell her things that would please her. But it was best that I not let her get too close. Every time I caught myself thinking about her, I found that my attention had slipped from my magical defenses.

My reasons for helping her were becoming more clear to me. My feelings toward her were not due to magic—at least, not now. I had to face the fact that I cared for her, wanted to protect her. I would accomplish that task, but the emotions couldn’t be allowed to continue. I would acknowledge what had happened, learn from it, but I would not let it make me weak. And she would never know.

Rowan stood talking quietly to her horse while I convinced the groom that he should give us new tack for the horses, plus supplies for ourselves and the animals. She seemed like the sort of person who became attached to people and animals far too quickly. She’d never survive in my family.

She turned to me and smiled nervously after the groom left.
She’ll do better somewhere else
, I thought. She could take care of herself. She’d shown that in the dragon cave when she got us both out of that situation, and without any magic to rely on. The hardness she’d revealed in her handling of the dragon was unexpected, and admirable. Finding that cupboard in the inn was a bit of good luck, but still, she’d thought to look, and moved quickly to try and keep us safe. I didn’t like hiding, but it hadn’t been all bad. It was cramped and uncomfortable, and being trapped in there left us too vulnerable, but even understanding the danger we were in hadn’t kept me from enjoying having her body pressed against me for a few minutes.

“Did you really give those people fake memories?” she asked after the groom left to collect our things, pulling me out of thoughts I shouldn’t have been thinking.

“In a way.”

“And you made that magic hunter kill his brother before we met? That was you, wasn’t it?” She looked afraid to hear my answer. No use lying. Better that she know and keep her distance.

“Yes.”

“What were you doing to that man who just left? He looked strange. Dazed.”

“What I had to do to get what we need. Nothing that will hurt him, so don’t worry about it.”

She stepped away from me and rubbed her horse’s nose. “It seems wrong, though.”

With that, my fears of liking her too much disappeared. “I didn’t see you jumping in to distract him and keep me from doing it,” I whispered back as the groom returned with new saddle bags filled with food and clean bedrolls to attach to our packs. “You’re benefiting from this at least as much as I am. If you don’t like it, find your own cure.” She held my gaze for a moment, then looked away and turned to saddle her horse.

I understood that she was probably confused about everything that was happening, but I was exhausted and in no mood to feel like a villain for trying to help her.

She was silent as we rode away from the inn, through the still-quiet village and past a faded sign that advised us to “Come Again Soon!”

Not bloody likely
, I thought. I’d be lucky to survive the next week if I couldn’t keep from being distracted or falling into a deep sleep. Keeping us safe was a far greater challenge than I’d anticipated.

Rowan seemed to be turning things over in her mind for the next while, and it was well into the morning before she said anything. She didn’t turn toward me, but watched from the corner of her eye as she spoke. “Have you done that to me at all?”

“No. Not once.”

“How can I be sure of that? You could be making me think that I was making my own decisions but really you’ve been doing it for me, and making me not notice that what I was doing was strange, or—”

Though I was frustrated with her and nearly too tired to think, she almost made me laugh. “Rowan?”

“What?”

“The pleasure of your company isn’t worth that much trouble.”

A look of shock crossed her face that quickly changed to amusement when she saw that I was smiling. “I’ll bet.”

“Doing something like that is extremely difficult—not only in knowing how it’s done, but in the amount of concentration and energy it takes. I do it when I have to, certainly more than is good for me, but I couldn’t have held onto you for this long. That’s if I could do it at all. Magic offers protection against it, and I can’t even see your thoughts. Like it or not, you’re here by your own choice.”

“Or you could be lying about all of that, too, and making me believe it.” She smiled, but I doubted very much that she trusted me. “Sorry. This is all so strange. I want this to work, but…”

“I know. I don’t think I’m actually qualified to act like a hero for anyone.”

“I don’t know. You’re doing a pretty good job so far.” 

I tried to ignore the warming effect her words had on me. I wasn’t supposed to need kindness or praise, but it felt good.

I shook it off.

She squinted up at the sky. “We’d better find shelter soon. Those clouds are coming in fast.”  The day had started out clear, but the sky was darkening, and gray clouds hovered in the sky ahead. A freezing wind whipped past us, and Rowan pulled her cloak tighter. I stopped to pull mine out from my pack. No sense getting drenched if I could avoid it.

We’d nearly reached the end of the farmland that surrounded the town, and only a few fields remained between us and a return to the uneven, boulder-strewn landscape that surrounded them. A farmer watched us as we passed, but neither of us acknowledged him.

Storm clouds rolled in, shutting out the sunlight until the sky became as dark as night. A light rain quickly changed to a freezing downpour that blew in our faces. Lightning flickered and thunder crashed immediately after, frightening the horses. Then the storm really started.

Sheets of water fell like waterfalls, drenching everything and leaving the road little better than a shallow river. It became impossible to see ahead, but the horses hurried on.

I hoped the rain would be our only concern, but danger loomed at the edge of my awareness. People on the road, following.

Rowan kept pace beside me as the horses raced down the road, their hoofs sending up sprays of muddy water that were lost in the downpour.

I looked back. Lightning flashed, revealing three dark shapes on the road, following hard behind us, close enough that there was no doubt that they were in pursuit.

“Rowan!” I called, unsure whether she’d hear me over the rain. “Rowan!” When she looked, I motioned for her to ride closer. The road swung to the left, but we kept going straight, over the rough ground. The horses slowed.

“What are you doing?” Rowan shouted. She sat hunched over her horse’s neck with water streaming off of her hood.

“We’re being followed. The road’s not safe.” She glanced behind her, but it was impossible to see anything. I hoped our pursuers were finding the same.

The rain let up slightly, but the darkness remained. I gave my horse freedom to choose her path, and Rowan’s fell behind. I didn’t particularly care where we went, as long as it was away from the road, and as quickly as possible. The land sloped upward, and we found ourselves in a tree-filled space between two rocky cliffs. The rain rolled off of the leaves and onto us, but it was some relief from the downpour. The horses grew cautious, slowing they walked against a river of rainwater.

The land opened up, and we were no longer sheltered. A splashing noise behind me indicated that Rowan’s horse had stumbled.

“We have to stop!” she called. “They can’t keep going like this!”

“We have to!” I pulled back on the reins, though, and waited. When I focused my awareness on the space around us, there was nothing. No one but me and Rowan. Lightning flashed again, silhouetting the crumbling remains of a massive stone building. I turned my horse’s head toward the structure. The roof was gone, but it would be better than nothing.

We reached what might once have been a courtyard and found the space occupied by an encampment. A massive tent surrounded by several smaller ones took up much of the space, with several hard-topped wagons parked nearby. I pulled my horse up. I hadn’t felt anything. No danger, no human presences at all. If the people here were dead, we’d want nothing to do with this place.

Horses huddled beneath an awning affixed to one of the stone walls, their backs to the wind and rain. A few human faces peered out from the largest tent, letting a sliver of warm light out into the darkness.

That’s impossible.
And worse than if they’d been dead. I didn’t trust it. I was about to turn back when a tall woman in a red cloak stepped out into the rain and waved us down. “Welcome, fellow travelers,” she called in a lilting accent. “It’s a poor time to be out on the road. Would you honor us by coming in for a meal?”

“Yes, and thank you!” Rowan called. She rode toward where the horses sheltered, and two younger men dressed in heavy rain gear came out of the tent and helped her dismount. I followed reluctantly, and allowed one of the men to take my horse.

“I don’t like this,” I said in a voice pitched so only she could hear me.

“They’re just Wanderers,” Rowan said, exasperated. “They’re not road bandits.”

“I remember. But I can’t get a sense of them. It’s like they’re not here.” One of the men handed me my knapsack and bedroll, and they both ran back toward the tent, not waiting to see if we’d follow.

“Maybe you’re just tired,” she said, and pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes. “And didn’t you say you did something to keep Severn from locating you? Maybe they’re doing that. Or maybe they’re ghosts. Who cares? They’re offering a warm place to stop, and we’re not getting any drier out here.”

She reached under my cloak and threaded her arm through mine, and pulled me toward shelter. A blast of warmth hit us as we stepped between the tent flaps. The inside of the large tent was crowded. Adults sat on cushions scattered in groups around the floor, most of them finishing meals and conversing in low voices. Several ragged-looking children ran around yelling, weaving a path between groups of people who barely seemed to notice them. People turned to look at us, but went back to their conversations a few seconds later. A tall man resumed playing a stringed instrument, and one of the children broke away from the pack to pick up a small drum to play along.