Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2 (17 page)

Sibling rivalry had reared its ugly head. “So how is it you ended up in the dungeon?”

“When I refused to aid Roland in his machinations, he placed a blood curse on the threshold of my room. No one save him entered in or out. I was alone until you and your friend arrived.” His tone went soft. “I think…neither Rideal nor Queen Nesvia know where I’ve gone.”

“If he visited you, then why not
take
his blood,” Harper asked, “or mine for that matter?”

“Blood was the key.” Aldrich flicked his wrist. “Your invitation made it turn.”

“Did he think I wouldn’t ask you out?” His gamble seemed foolish.

For a moment, Aldrich was silent. “In all honesty, I didn’t think it would work.”

“You would have released us either way?” Doubt laced his voice.

Aldrich canted his head, considering Harper for a moment. “Magic is in the blood, his and mine. He must have thought, as I did for a time, only someone of similar power could free me. I had nothing to lose. I decided to try.” Now the old priest smiled. “And it would have been worth the punishment to see Roland’s face when he realized his prize acquisitions were missing. Yes?”

“Yes,” Harper agreed, smiling. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate Emma and her growing pile of shucked fruit. “Would you like something to eat before we head out?”

He interpreted Aldrich’s shrug as a yes.

“What you said earlier—we’ll reach your colony tonight?” Aldrich asked. “Is it safe?”

“Once we cross the border.” Harper paused. “Getting past the raiders is the hard part.”

Aldrich shifted, digging out a cloth and cleaning his hands. “I’ll think on a solution.”

“Let me know if you come up with one.” Harper pushed from the sled and headed for Emma. If his steps slowed a bit, he couldn’t be blamed. Watching her in profile captivated him.

Every time her slender claw ripped open ripe fruit, she quartered the meat and set it on a cactus paddle she’d raked smooth. She hadn’t spoken to Aldrich all day, and for all her complaints, she knelt there, dividing him an equal share. His Emma was remarkably similar to the prickly cactus in her hands. Sharp and guarded on the outside, sweet and succulent within.

She caught his stare and smiled, and his world was a brighter place for it.

Aldrich at my back had the same chilling effect as an iced dagger poised over my breast. I could tell Harper’s kind heart weakened where the old priest was concerned. I had but to glance at my forearm and read my tattooed-on property tag for any pity I imagined for him to evaporate.

Still, he was a valuable asset. His cloaking trick, the more I thought of it, might be used to ease us across the colony’s border under the raiders’ noses. For that use alone, I would tolerate him. Frowning at his tender care of Dillon, I admitted he wasn’t the ogre I remembered. He was a zealous disciple of the Askaran goddess Zaniah, and so certain in the truth of her doctrines, he never questioned her teachings. I supposed he wouldn’t be her priest now if he did.

How he reconciled her brutal tenets and the barbaric rites of passage she created, with a loving and benevolent deity, I couldn’t fathom. I supposed being born of her chosen race, and enacting ceremonies such as branding females then sacrificing their virgin blood on his ceremonial
staff, made devotion to her become much more appealing. As a halfling, an ex-slave and someone familiar with his ministrations, I didn’t suffer his same delusions. I didn’t believe.

“We’re near.” Aldrich’s voice crackled over my shoulder.

“You can’t know that.” I narrowed my eyes, already doubting myself. Heat wavered on the horizon. Not civilization. Harper’s outline curled in a black-smoke mirage yards ahead of us.

My mare plodded along, thirstier than the water we’d saved for the horses to drink. Two days spent in bursts of golden sunlight, wicking moisture from our tongues as hours passed. My throat ached for something cool and moist. My eyes watered, caking grit in their corners. I blinked a few times, thinking another illusion caused Harper to grow larger, but we grew nearer.

He sat atop a dune and stared. When my horse reached his, I sucked in a grateful breath.

Feriana sprawled across the valley floor. Pops of color, earth-toned building tops and pale tents, made a sloped roof over the city. Drawing air into my lungs, I caught the fragrant trail of food, strained my ears to hear the distant drone of people, and longed for their anonymity.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“That I want a drink, food and a shower, in that order.”

He gave me a strained look. “I meant, do you think it’s safe?”

“We agreed to bypass the city.” Fresh sweat coated my palms. “The colony is safer.”

“We did.” He picked at the leather straps laid across his thigh. “And you’re right.”

I sensed it coming. “But?”

“You saw the mess my healers made of Dillon’s leg. They’re learning, but mastery takes time he doesn’t have. Aldrich is certain he will live, but if he comes with us, his recovery will suffer.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I might as well cut off his leg at the knee myself.”

I winced at the visual. “What about Aldrich?”

“I haven’t asked what his plans are after this.” He turned. “He hasn’t mentioned any.”

“I have none,” Aldrich answered by my ear. “I won’t return to Rihos until I’ve negotiated terms with Queen Nesvia. If Sere’s queen wouldn’t touch me before, she certainly won’t now.”

“You’re welcome to stay at the colony if you’d like.” Harper rolled his shoulders and kept his tone light. “I have two young healers, both with potential and no real guidance.”

I expected Aldrich to laugh in Harper’s face or throw his title around, belittling the offer.

“You let uneducated healers near your wounded?” Aldrich clucked his tongue.

Using the same tone as he’d used on me, Harper said, “We have limited supplies and less capital to entice a proper healer—let alone priest—onto our payroll. We’re doing what we can.”

“I make no promises as to my tenure, but I will teach your young ones what I can.”

My jaw would have dropped if the sun hadn’t baked my dried mouth shut.

“Thank you.” Harper’s shoulders relaxed.

“I will require supplies,” Aldrich said. “Is there a local healer you trust?”

I pried my mouth open. “Yes. I have a live-in healer at the consulate.”

“Then we must go there for supplies, fresh herbs, bandages.” He made the choice sound clear-cut, and I had trouble mounting an argument. “Otherwise, we’ll be dependent on whatever supplies you have on hand. If raiders guard the border, intent on keeping us out, then once we’re inside, they’ll become the wardens who lock us in. We must prepare for that eventuality.”

“If that’s true, should we risk Dillon?” I asked Harper, whose lips downturned. “You’ve met Isabeau. She’s an accomplished healer. He would be as safe in her hands as anywhere. Safer, considering where we’re headed. Plus, if he takes a turn for the worse, there is a priest in town.”

“It’s your choice.” Aldrich sounded indifferent. “The consulate lies in the city’s heart, yes? How will you reach it? You’re well-known there. If word has spread, you’ll be in danger.”

I’d entertained similar thoughts, so I turned to Harper. Inspiration slammed into me. “There’s a safe house at the city’s edge. It’s small, but well kept. We could go there.”

“What safe house?” Harper demanded. “Why didn’t I know about it?”

“It’s a shelter for slaves turned informant against the legion.” Abusing it this once meant surrendering it for any future use. “That’s why you didn’t know. It was none of your business. Those slaves had sealed files and locations guarded from you, as well as their prior owners.”

“All right.” He shot me a hard stare. “So we’ll drop Dillon off first, then—”

“No.” I cut him off. “Aldrich’s right. It’s too dangerous for us to go into the city. It will be dangerous enough to get near the safe house.” Aldrich eyed me warily. “I think he should take Dillon to Isabeau. He can spend the night there and give my boarders time to load the sled with supplies. Then he can pick us up in the morning.” I sighed. “The rest, I guess, is left up to fate.”

“What do you say, priest?” Harper directed the question to Aldrich.

I got the feeling Harper liked the idea, perhaps too much. I read calculation in his eyes of the hours we’d have alone together.

He asked, “Are you up for it?”

Aldrich tapped his fingers on my seat. “Won’t your Isabeau be suspicious of a stranger arriving with one of your wounded?”

“I’ll write her a note.” Then I scoffed at myself. My reflexes were so human sometimes.

“I didn’t know you traveled with quill and ink.” Harper laughed, reading me with ease. After all, he’d scribbled on every page of my life’s book. He was still chuckling as he delivered the rest of his joke. “Is that a scroll in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“You’re not half as funny as you think you are,” I informed him.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve built up an immunity to my sense of humor, considering you’re about to spend a night with nothing but me for entertainment.” His eyes glinted with promise.

Leaning back, I fumbled for one of the cactus paddle plates I’d made earlier, then I scratched a brief message into the dried husk of the once-succulent plant. “That will have to do.”

I set it on my seat, then crawled from the sled. Aldrich left without looking back.

“Are you ready?” Harper asked me, and I understood the question was a weighted one.

This moment could have been a paragraph from any day of our lives. His intent to claim me hung unspoken between us. The fact my sex was dominate, that my choice would bind us, if we were ever bound, strung his heart to my whims. Once, I’d been afraid to pluck that delicate thread. Now I knew it vibrated with a perfect pitch when strummed. “Yes. I am.”

His nostrils widened, picking up the scent of my arousal. No, desire had never lacked between us. I’d never had him, and I wanted him. He wanted me, and I would let him have me.

But first…he owed me a talk.

Chapter Sixteen

I moaned, pleased beyond measure. All my ailments were forgotten, but unfortunately, my stink remained. Crushed velvet smashed against my cheek, and I inhaled dusty upholstery, glad to be where I was. It turned out I was far more domesticated than I’d thought. And more than drink or food, I wanted the cushions where I collapsed the instant we entered the safe house.

“Thirsty?” Harper’s voice scratched. He must have poured my cup first.

“You can have it.” I yawned. I had eaten too few calories too late to keep me awake. With the queasy feeling purged from my guts, my stomach emitted a timid growl, which I stamped out.

“You need to drink.” He brushed the hair from my eyes. “And you have to eat something. I’ve seen you crash too many times not to see this one coming. Get up, and I’ll find us food.”

Groaning, I pushed myself upright. Lethargy tugged at my limbs and weighted my head. I was several shades past exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sink into the cushions, but he was right. If I didn’t eat, I’d be a wreck when he woke me later, assuming he could wake me.

“I’ll help.”

Two steps later, my elbow nudged his. He sifted through the cupboards and found packets of dried meat strips and jarred fruit. There were other things, tastier things, but neither of us had energy to cook. Besides, chewing kept me from asking the questions firing in my gut.

I’d given him an out in Rihos, told myself his past made no difference to our present. In that moment, it hadn’t. Then days passed. Nothing resolved itself. His mouth only opened to bark orders or mutter curses. At night, he kept me warm beneath his blanket, but sleep came hard to him. Even trapped in what must be nightmares, he kept his lips sealed and his past guarded.

His promise of a talk would save me from making a liar of myself if he honored his word.

“What else is down here?” He passed over a cup and plate, each filled to the brim.

“This living area, the kitchen, what passes for a bathroom and a bedroom—with bunks.”

“Those sound confining.” He frowned toward an open doorway.

“There’s rarely more than one person here at the time, so it’s usually a moot point.”

“There are two of us here now,” he pointed out.

I gathered my rations, returning to the sofa. “Then we’re fortunate there are two beds.”

His growl followed me, raising hairs along my neck and causing my insides to quiver.

“I was under the impression you and I…” His thought hung unfinished.

Hiding behind my cup, I drank and grinned. “What impression were you under?”

His lips flatlined in response as his right eye developed a rather cute tic. “We talked—”

“Did we?” I asked in all seriousness. “I remember you promising me we would talk.” I held on to my cup so my hands stopped trembling. “Did it happen and I missed it?”

“Emma.” He said my name on a groan. “I know I said we would talk, but…”

Silence fell, and I sobered. Acting like this wasn’t serious, like it didn’t matter, was how we ended up here in the first place. This was my chance, maybe my only chance, and I took it.

“But you lied.” I made it a statement, though its double edge cut us both.

“I— No, I didn’t lie.” He scowled. “I don’t understand what it is you want from me.”

“This is not about me.” Only it was, and I hated goading him.

“How is this not about you? I buried the past. You’re the one toting a shovel.”

“If you were more open with me, I wouldn’t have to dig for information on my own.”

“What can your knowing possibly change?” His brow wrinkled.

“I don’t know.” My fist clenched, collapsing the cup and slicing my hand. Blood and water dripped on my lap. “You came home. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect to feel this again. It was jarring.” He caught my wrist and picked the shards from my palm before the skin healed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re telling me you wished I hadn’t come back.”

His shirt collar ripped. It took me a minute to realize I’d snagged it and jerked his face to my level. “
Never
say that again.” Stupid tears pricked my eyes. “I didn’t know. God help me, I didn’t know you were alive or I would have come for you. That’s what I want to know. How you could be alive somewhere, alone and hurting, and I didn’t know. I should have
known
.”