Emergence (Book 2) (31 page)

As you will.
The huge head tilted up like a hound scenting the air.
He is...

Ciara gasped and almost lost her grip on the chain as the chamber fell away, replaced by the veil. Or at least, it looked like the veil. But something didn't feel right. The ground squished beneath her boots, and her clothes clung to her skin. She pushed damp locks of hair from her forehead, trying to breathe in the thick air. Everything felt heavy.

"Where is he?"

Here.

"Here...where?"

Here.

"You're not being very clear." Ciara peered through the shifting haze. "Bolin?"

He cannot hear us yet. He is as the wind.

Ciara closed her eyes. A dull throb echoed through her head with every beat of her heart.

You must join with me.

"Join with you?"

He blew out a frustrated exhalation of breath as he continued to spiral around her.
I will not harm you. If you do not, then he is lost to us forever. He will become the Darkness. He will take us then, and we will not be able to stop him. We will become the Darkness.

A growing lump wedged itself in Ciara's throat. She rubbed her palms against her thighs. "Tell me what to do."

Do nothing.

Ciara sucked in a terrified breath as she felt her
body dissolving. She flashed back to the battle with the old woman, how Donovan had snatched her across the leagues as no more than a thought on the wind.

Be still.

Andrakaos surrounded her. Warmth flowed through her, washing away the fleeting panic. A body formed. Ciara flexed a hand and ground crumbled in the grip of powerful talons. A smile broke across her muzzle, drawing her lips back from sharp teeth. She could feel every bit of Andrakaos's muscled strength as though it were her own. The haze of the veil came alive with color and light, and Ciara experienced a moment of complete disorientation as she adjusted to seeing through his eyes.

"Ciara?" Nialyne sounded concerned.

"It's all right," Ciara said, and her voice rumbled from Andrakaos's throat, deep and vibrant. She slid the chain of earth magic toward the Galysian elder. "Hold onto this. You may need to guide me back."

Andrakaos snorted.
We must gather him and hold him within us. Bind him with the white magic.

"Gather him?"

Feel him. He surrounds us. His essence has been shredded and scattered to the winds. We must hurry. There is not much of him left that is aware. We must find those bits first. Feel him. Call him to us.

Ciara felt back along the chain of earth magic to reassure herself of Nialyne's presence.
Fatigue burned behind her eyes, but she pushed it aside. She let herself drift, her consciousness entwined with Andrakaos's, and emptied her mind of thoughts and doubts, filling it instead with every image and memory of Bolin she could recall.

It
seemed to take forever, and Ciara came close to giving up before the first tingle of recognition brushed across her like the wings of a butterfly. She startled, but Andrakaos latched onto it before it could flit away. He drew it in, within the sling of Ciara's earth magic, as gentle as though it were a newborn babe. Piece by piece they gathered the shattered remains of Bolin's essence and Ciara bound them together with her earth magic. Awareness built with each one and with it pain. Even Andrakaos shuddered at the intensity of it.

How long they worked, Ciara couldn't even guess. Time moved differently in the veil. The process was painstakingly slow, and Ciara could feel herself slipping. The drain tugged at her, pulling her down into a grey haze.

Lady,
Andrakaos said, his mental voice as worn thin as Ciara felt,
we are close. Help us.

For a long moment Ciara thought Nialyne hadn't heard. Then a slender vine of green-tinted power slid up the chain of earth magic connecting them. It wound around them smelling of sun-warmed grass and fresh breezes. Ciara felt it course through them, refreshing them, lending strength.

Hard on its heels she heard a whispered name. Her name. Faint and so distant. It tore at her heart and ripped a sob from her.

"Bolin? Please, oh please, be you."

She stretched outward once again, hope and the power of the Greensward infusing her with energy.

"Ciara?" Definitely Bolin. "You shouldn't be here."

She laughed. Of course he'd sound angry and not want her help. It would have worried her if he hadn't. "Neither should you. Time to come back."

"Donovan
…"

That one cannot touch us.

"Let me go."

"Never," Ciara said, and with the last bit of her flagging strength, she caught up the final pieces of Bolin's shattered self and wrapped her earth magic tightly around it.

We have him,
Andrakaos said.

Ciara breathed a sigh of relief and let herself collapse into darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Donovan staggered from his bed, his shoulder connecting with the doorframe on his way out of the room. The dim light of a single wall-mounted oil lamp sliced across his vision as though someone had pierced his eyes with a knife. He flicked a backhanded wave, and the flame went out. Even that minor use of power sent his stomach roiling.

"Priestess."

He slammed into the door across from his. Damn the unholies if she had not already woken.

"Priestess," he said, louder.

The door gave way, and he lurched into her arms. She pushed him upright and guided him to her bed, allowing him to collapse onto it. She swung his legs up, folding a blanket over him.

"The Lady's power is killing you," she said. "You need to
release it."

"No."

"You are not meant to hold more than one. It will destroy you."

"You know nothing of it."

"I know what I can see," she said, her voice sharp. "It grows worse with each passing day. It is her curse upon you for your betrayal. If you don't find a way to release it, you will die."

Donovan groaned at the dagger-like pain in the back of his
skull. He had been so close to claiming the General, closer than he had ever been before. A single moment longer and he would have tasted victory. And then the crone's power had overwhelmed him. Had forced him to relinquish his hold on the Dominion magic and release the General. Even then, if he could have returned in time he could have gathered the shattered bits of the man and claimed him. That moment had now passed.

The priestess laid a hand across his forehead. Her touch seemed the one thing able to calm the crone's power, though even that cure had started to take longer. Or perhaps it was because D
onovan found it necessary to draw from the crone's power continuously in order to maintain the wards that kept his actions invisible to the Emperor and the Imperial Mages.

He would need Arnok's intervention to m
ake that no longer a necessity.

"Tell Colm to summon Arnok," Donovan said, the thinness of his voice unnerved him. "We will need to move quickly now. I cannot abide in Nisair much longer."

The priestess made a noise that would have earned her a slap had Donovan the strength. "A fool's decision, coming here at all. You toyed with her on the road when you should have taken her from their clutches."

He found the strength
to strike her for that comment. The blow had little behind it though, and the priestess skipped back with a hiss.

"Do as I say,
Priestess," Donovan said, spittle flecking his lips. "Do not think I will hesitate to kill you for your insolence."

"Pah. Kill me and kill yourself," she said, heading for the door. "I am all that can ease the Lady's hold on you."

She left him lying there, gritting his teeth, and shivering beneath the blanket, the truth of her words sliding into him like a sharp blade. He swiped at his nose, surprised by the streak of red across the back of his hand when he pulled it away. Haste made for errors, but Donovan no longer had the luxury of waiting. He would need to strike as soon as possible.

***

"I want you and Salek to take this to the Emperor." Commander Garek scrubbed a hand across his face, and handed Berk a folded parchment. From the looks of it, he'd been up all night. "Leave right after you get some breakfast in you."

Berk must have hesitated because the Commander's brows went up by the same degree the corners of his mouth pulled down.

"Is there a problem?" he asked. "Because Goddess knows, that's what I need right know is another one."

"No, sir." Berk tapped the message against his fingertips and glanced across the still
-empty common room. "Are the General and Ciara all right?"

"Lady Nialyne says Ciara is just exhausted. The verdict's still out on the General. Damn magic. I can't tolerate it." He dipped his head toward the parchment. "It's all in there. Emperor's eyes only. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Berk said, still not moving off as he tried to come up with a non-offensive way of broaching the fact he'd no desire to be the one going to Nisair.

"There's something sticking in your craw, lad," Garek said. "I can see it. I've about run out of patience so you best give out with it or swallow it."

Berk shifted and thought about just taking the message, finding Salek, and heading toward Nisair. Instead, he said, "Why not send a couple of Captain Rothel's men?"

The Commander leaned back in his chair and sucked his teeth, and Berk knew he'd pushed at the wrong time. Too late to take it back now.

"I'm going to take a wild guess at what this is about, so let me do something out of the ordinary and explain my reasoning to you." He shifted forward again, leaning his forearms on the table and fixing Berk with a hard glare. "There's nothing saying the road between here and Nisair is clear. Salek's done in. You know it as well as I do. He's seen too much he can't deal with quite yet. I can't say with any amount of certainty that if we had a set-to we could rely on him just now. Can you?"

Berk shook his head and kept his mouth shut.

"He needs to get home. I need someone he knows to get him there. Someone I can trust to keep a cool head if something should go wrong. You want to leave that to one of Rothel's men?"

"No. I just--"

"Damnit, Berk, you're trying me. It's nothing to do with what happened at Broadhead, if that's what you're thinking. This isn't some kind of punishment."

Berk hadn't even thought about Broadhead. But probably better the Commander had
, because the real reason wouldn't make him any happier. And then he must have read Berk's mind because he blew out a sigh and shook his head.

"Lad, that one's a lost cause. You care for her, I can see that, and she's a lucky woman for it, but you're not blind either. You know how that sits." The Commander pushed out of his chair and groaned as he arched his back in a stretch. "I need sleep. You need to get Salek and deliver that message to the Emperor. So we're done here. Right?"

Berk nodded. "Right." He tucked the parchment behind his belt, saluted, and left the common room kicking himself for being a fool.

***

The ride from the Oak to Nisair took a day at a leisurely pace. Once on the road, Berk had little desire to take it easy. Salek seconded that once he found they were heading home, so the pair arrived in the city well before dusk. Per the Commander's orders, they entered Nisair through the garrison gate instead of through the city. Set in the northern wall, the gate opened to an archway four horse lengths long and wide enough to ride five abreast. Arrow slots dotted the walls and murder holes broke the smooth curve of the ceiling. The iron portcullis at either end stood open in times of peace but never went unguarded. Beyond lay a broad, cobbled courtyard. The guards' barracks, three stories tall, nestled against the inner wall. An L-shaped building that housed the stables, smithy and armory sat opposite it. To the east rose the Imperial castle.

Their horses' hooves clattered off the stones as they crossed the yard. Berk dismounted and passed his horse off to one of the stable boys with a request to see his bags taken to the barracks. When he turned he found Salek still mounted, staring at nothing in particular.

"Hey, c'mon, Sal," he said. "You're not off-duty yet. You need to chase down Mauralyn and see to getting rooms ready for the ladies."

Salek nodded. "Sure." But he made no move to dismount.

Berk slapped his leg. "Move it. See to those rooms, get your gear stored, then consider yourself off-duty until the Commander sends someone looking for you."

Again the nod, fingers twisting the reins between them.

"Look, we're home now," Berk said. "You have to leave everything else behind you."

Salek turned a stricken look his way. "I'm just supposed to forget about Duff and Kort?"

"I didn't say that. Remember them, honor their memory, drink a toast to them tonight, but the rest of it--you can't change what happened. Dwelling on it doesn't make it any better. Go on, now. Find Mauralyn and get those rooms set up. I need to pass the Commander's report on to the Emperor. Unless you'd rather..."

"No." Salek swung his leg over the horse's rump and dropped down. Younger than Berk by a good five years, the prospect of direct contact with the Emperor still unnerved him enough to set him in motion. "No, I'll see to the rooms."

Berk squeezed his shoulder. "Get to it then."

He watched Salek head off across the yard toward the housekeeper's quarters, a slump to his shoulders, then turned in the opposite direction slapping the dirt off his uniform with his gloves as he walked. Good words of wisdom he'd given Salek, and far easier to say than to do. Closing his eyes still brought images of the marauder's camp flooding into his mind. The guilt and shame that came with those memories made them even harder to bury. Goddess above, how could Ciara even look at him without distrust and revulsion after what he'd tried to do? She could tell him a thousand times over the drug had been to blame, and act as though it hadn't happened, but Berk couldn't seem to shake the specter of it. Maybe if he didn't harbor the hope she could ever give him more than a passing glance, he'd
be more inclined to let it go.

He
let out a frustrated growl. Ciara's kindness toward him had been nothing more than the Lady of the Greensward offered.

She's a healer,
Berk reminded himself.
It's in her nature to be caring. Doesn't make you any more special than anyone else.

Berk's boot heels echoed off the flagstones as he crossed the Great Hall to the stairway in the back. He took the steps two at a time, suddenly anxious to just be done with his messenger duties and have a few moments of peace without having to be consta
ntly looking over his shoulder.

He rounded the corner toward the Emperor's office and came up short, sidestepping to avoid a collision with a figure in deep amber robes. The man swept his dark gaze over Berk from head to toe in the kind of contemptuous appraisal most people had come to expect from this particular
Imperial Mage.

Berk dipped his head in a quick bow nonetheless. "Your pardon, Lord Arnok." He skirted around, not intending on stopping.

"Oh, of course." Lord Arnok's voice dripped with sarcasm. "How silly of me to have gotten in your way."

Berk stiffened. He turned slowly, making every effort to keep a pleasant expression on his face. "My apologies, my lord, I should have been more careful."

Arnok flicked some unseen speck from the sleeve of his robe with an elegant backhanded motion but his eyes never left Berk's. "You're one of Commander Garek's men, aren't you?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then the Lord General is..."

"Not yet within the city," Berk said. "They hope to arrive by tomorrow evening."

"They
hope
to arrive? There have been more problems since Broadhead?"

"Just a delay."

"What sort of delay?"

"With all due respect, Lord Arnok, my orders were to give my report to the Emperor alone," Berk said.

"I see."

Lord Arnok continued to stare at Berk. He looked about to say something else when a shiver coursed through Berk, followed by beads of sweat. Unbidden memories and emotions flashed through his mind so quickly it made his stomach lurch. He shook his head and took a step back, his hand shooting out to grip the wall as a sudden wave of dizziness wreaked havoc on his sense of balance.

"Are you injured?" Arnok's voice lost some of its haughty disdain as he took Berk's elbow.

Berk rubbed a hand across his face. "No. No, I think I'm just--" He squeezed his eyes shut and steadied his breathing.
Just exhausted
, he thought.
That's all.
He extracted himself from the mage's grip and straightened, the fog lifting as quickly as it had come. "I'm alright."