Dark Haven (53 page)

Jonmarc swallowed hard, looking through the shattered windows at the ruined village. “How 454

many?” he asked hoarsely.

“Neirin said that the messenger told Carina sixty people lived here,” Gabriel said tightly. “Plus Carina’s guards.”

Seventy dead, Jonmarc thought. How many wars have started over less? He looked back to where Carina lay. Goddess! I want to fight. I want revenge. I want to feel the satisfaction of destroying the ones who did this. I’ve got to keep my head. If I take revenge, the truce will shatter. I know that there are honorable vayash moru. I know that Gabriel and Lais‐ren and the others are as angry as I am. But many mortals won’t make distinctions. Dark Lady help me! I can’t, I won’t be the cause of that.

“Let’s get started,” Jonmarc said.

The task was done by midnight. Jonmarc saw the same warring emotions in the faces of his guards that he felt within himself. Vayash moru, suddenly unsure that their bonds of friendship with their mortal comrades would be enough to transcend the carnage. Mortal soldiers, overwhelmed with anger and grief, wishing for a target to strike. That Jonmarc and Gabriel worked side by side throughout the night set the tone, and the night progressed without incident.

They laid the bodies in the inn, and set it to burn. Then, they burned the other homes and businesses. As the flames rose against the night sky, Laisren closed his eyes and began to sing, his baritone voice rising in a dirge. Other voices rose with his, clear and strong in the bitter night air. They walked back to where Carina lay bundled on the snow, still guarded by Yestin and Eiria.

Jonmarc swung up onto his horse.

“Hand her to me. I’ll carry her back,” he said to Gabriel.

Gabriel hesitated. “If I’m wrong, if they found a way to bring her across despite her magic, then if 455

she awakens suddenly, she’ll hunger. She’ll be too driven by thirst to spare you. It’s too risky.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

A full courtyard met them when they returned to Dark Haven, despite the hour. Word had spread about Carina’s disappearance, although Jonmarc fervently hoped that the guards had kept silent about the body at the gates. The crowd fell silent as Jonmarc dismounted, carrying Carina in his arms. One look at his expression and they parted wordlessly, only to buzz in hushed tones behind him as he ascended the entrance stairs into the manor. Yestin and Eiria flanked him, refusing to leave his side until they were inside the manor house.

When they reached Carina’s rooms, Lisette was waiting. She ran to Jonmarc, gently taking Carina from him, lifting her easily with immortal strength. “I’ll get her cleaned up and put to bed.”

“Riqua will be here shortly,” Gabriel said. “We can cover distances swiftly when the need arises.

It takes a toll, but she’ll have the chance to rest when she gets here. Royster’s close enough that Jess can bring him without great strain. As for Taru,” Gabriel shrugged. “Mages have their own ways to travel, and their own limitations. The time it takes her to recover after the power she spends will still be less than the time to ride from Principality City in this weather.”

Jonmarc sat down in a chair facing the fire. Now that the battle was over, emotion overwhelmed him. He sat, hands clasped, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs staring into the fire, giving in to shock and grief.

Finally, he looked up at Gabriel, who leaned against the wall in the shadows near the fireplace.

“If you’re wrong,” he said, and his voice faltered. He swallowed hard and went on. “If they’ve brought her across, I have a favor to ask of you, my friend.”

He knew, looking at Gabriel’s eyes, that the vayash moru took his meaning immediately.

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Gabriel shook his head slowly, and Jonmarc saw pain in his expression. “Would you be a slave again? My slave? That’s what a fledgling is, for many lifetimes.” Old memories flickered in his eyes. “That’s why I haven’t made

any new fledges in more than one hundred years.”

“I told her that I’d come for her. I won’t leave her.”

The doors opened into Carina’s bedroom. “She’s resting,” Lisette said. Jonmarc walked to the doorway. Carina lay in a fresh shift under the bedcovers. She was pale against the pillow, with her hands by her sides like the carving atop a catafalque.

In the courtyard, the bells tolled the second hour of the morning. Riqua entered, followed by Royster. “Jess told us what happened at the village.” Her voice hardened. “I spoke with Laisren and Kolin. They’ve gone to find Uri. We must convene the Blood Council.”

“The Blood Council means nothing without its members’ resolve,” Gabriel said, and Jonmarc could hear the undercurrent of anger in his voice. “Uri may get the war he’s wanted— and Goddess help us if he does. I no longer expect the Council to make a difference.”

Riqua took a deep breath. “Agreed. So we must make our own way.” She looked to Jonmarc.

“Royster brought the books he could throw in his bag. Kolin will fetch whatever we need. If there is a way to heal Carina, we’ll find it.”

Taru arrived before the next candlemark. She looked drained, but waved away concerns. After a hurried greeting, she joined Royster and Riqua to huddle over Royster’s books.

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Outside, the bells tolled the third hour. Jon‐marc dozed fitfully in a chair near the fire, while Gabriel and the others kept their vigil. Lisette drew the heavy draperies in Carina’s room. In the darkness of the inner chambers, the vayash moru could work into the late morning before needing to take their rest.

Taru and Royster continued to work after the vayash moru went to rest, conferring in low tones.

Jonmarc paced or stared at the fire. No one spoke.

Just after sunset, Laisren and Kolin burst in, dragging Uri between them. They pushed the corpulent little man into the room.

“I demand to know what’s going on! This is an outrage! I promise you, we won’t stand for this!”

Uri sputtered.

Riqua moved in a blur, shoving Uri hard with both hands against his chest, throwing him so hard against the paneled wall that a nearby painting crashed to the floor. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

With a growl, the she‐wolf tackled Uri, knocking him to the ground, her teeth grazing his throat.

“Eiria, no!” Riqua shouted.

The she‐wolf bared her teeth to strike. Before she could go for Uri’s throat, the ‘male wolf lunged. Yestin blocked her, growling dangerously.

Goddess help us. Eiria’s lost control of her shifting. Jonmarc thought as the wolves circled 458

each other. Eiria lunged again, opening a bad gash on Yestin’s shoulder. He howled in pain, nipping back at her. Her bite connected on the next strike, sinking into his foreleg. With a growl, Yestin launched himself at Eiria, teeth bared. He knocked her to the ground and pinned her with his heavy paws. With a yelp, she surrendered and struggled free, running from the room. Yestin followed.

Kolin and Laisren dragged Uri to his feet and threw him into a chair. “First the shepherds. Now an entire village.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Uri’s fear was plain. “What village?”

“Everyone in Westormere is dead,” Riqua said, advancing on Uri. “Every man, woman and child.

Vayash moru killings. They didn’t even bother to drain most of the bodies. They posed them in some obscene tableau—”

“Malesh,” Uri whispered. “He calls it his ‘art.’”

“Where’s Malesh?” Gabriel demanded.

“How should I know?”

Riqua slapped Uri across the cheek hard enough to snap a mortal’s spine. “He’s your fledgling.

Young enough for you to know his thoughts. Where is he?”

Uri wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture that was a memory from his mortal life, since no blood flowed from his split lip. “How should I know?”

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Riqua reached out with her right hand to grasp Uri by the throat and dragged him to his feet.

One by one, her manicured nails sank into his neck on either side of his windpipe. Uri gasped and twisted. ” Vayash moru slaughtered the people of Westormere tonight. Seventy mortals murdered. I want Malesh to pay.”

“I told you,” Uri rasped, “I don’t know where he is. He’s been dabbling in blood magic. Most of it doesn’t work—he’s no mage—but he must have bought a talisman to shield his thoughts. I haven’t been able to read him for months now.” “And you didn’t destroy him when he betrayed you like that?”

Uri looked pale even by vayash moru standards. “I thought he might come around.” “Did you send Malesh to Westormere?” “No. You have to believe me. I didn’t know.” “Malesh tried to bring across Lady Carina.” Uri frowned. “That won’t work. She’s a healer.”

Riqua’s voice was icy. “She’s in the next room, neither living, dead nor undead, because of him.”

She reached for Uri again and he cringed, flattening himself against the wall. This time, her hand slid inside his brocade doublet, digging her nails into the silk shirt above his heart. “You’re going to bring your cur to heel, Uri. Find Malesh and destroy him.” Uri’s voice was plaintive. “I don’t think I can.” Riqua’s lip twitched. “Have it your way. You wanted to leave the Council, so you leave behind your protection as a member. You want to break the truce, then become the first martyr of the new order. There’s not a mortal or vayash moru in the manor who would fault us if we burn you at dawn for what’s happened.” She raised her fingertips to brush against Uri’s face as he flinched away. “Do you remember the feel of sunlight on your skin?”

“Enough!” Panic tinged Uri’s voice. “I’ll go after Malesh. I’ll go. Just don’t burn me.”

Riqua’s expression was remorseless. “Until you destroy Malesh, my brood and yours are bloodsworn. My brood will destroy yours on sight. You and yours will be hunted and outcast among our kind.”

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