Foretold (Daughters of Saraqael Book Three) (32 page)

Tristan’s harsh and foreboding words had all of the sisters moving onto the platform.

“This is wrong,” Alastair said from his position a few feet behind Tristan. He sounded confused.

Skye realized his nose was bleeding. His pupils were also unnaturally large. Her heart feared for him when Tristan and Jean-Marc turned to glare at him.

Jean-Marc’s eyes flashed a brilliant shade of dark green. Alastair cried out and dropped his sword. He fell to his knees and clutched his head. Skye flinched at his obvious pain. Tears filled her eyes.

“I told you he was resistant,” Tristan said to Jean-Marc, getting onto the platform. “He started resisting you the moment you made him fire that arrow at Olivia.”

“Leave him,” the Orculesti lieutenant ordered. “His brain is bleeding now. He will not remain conscious longer than a minute or two, and I do not care whether he survives.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out restraints as the platform left the docking station. Skye watched with growing terror as they left the safety of Central.

“I will secure each of you before you get the antidotes,” he said.

She realized as her hands were bound that Jean-Marc was actually afraid of them. But that realization offered her little comfort. Because she also realized that despite their training and layers of security, he had managed to kidnap them in less than two minutes.

“What should we do this evening?” James asked as they stood waiting for the sisters to get changed.

“I think a visit to the cats is in order,” Gabriel said. His eyes, like his brothers’, moved around the area in an alert scan, though his tone was casual. “Amber has mentioned Loki several times in the past week. It’s been about that long since we last fit in a visit.”

Caleb nodded. “Skye would enjoy that, too.”

“Sounds good,” James agreed. “We can head to their paddock next if the girls feel up to it. Olivia seems rather worn out, though.”

“Yeah. Amber, too,” Gabriel said with a thoughtful frown. “All that time in the water, I guess.”

Caleb’s gaze remained focused on the waterfall. Something had his intuition tingling. Ever since he had avowed with Skye, his already sharp Gloresti senses had been heightened to a new level that he still didn’t quite understand. Something was telling him to get to her. He didn’t want to look foolish or overprotective to his brothers, though, so he figured a more subtle probe was in order.

Everything all right back there?
he thought toward Skye, deliberately keeping his tone light.

His thought bounced back to him.

“Something’s wrong,” he said, breaking into a run toward the waterfall.

His brothers didn’t question him. They were right behind him when he reached the other side of the waterfall. They all saw the sisters’ bathing suits on the ground, but no sign of them.

Where would they go? Why can’t I hear her?

He sensed his brothers’ thoughts and registered that he could hear them but not Skye. He also registered the fierce pounding of his heart and the soaring of his Gloresti energy as his fears were confirmed. They quickly split up and began scouring the area to try and figure out what had happened. Before long, he knew, they would have every member of the Gloresti class currently at the homeland flooding the area. There would be no stopping that result with two or more of them projecting an internal alarm.

Caleb followed his instincts toward a wall of rock south of the waterfall. He heard voices begin to echo throughout the open-air chamber housing the spring as the elders and their fellow Gloresti found them. Thinking of their game of Marco Polo, he closed his eyes and focused on the sound in the chamber.

And he realized the noise didn’t bounce off this particular rock like they should.

Over here!
he sent to his brothers. He began feeling along the rock, trying to detect a difference in the texture. He heard running footsteps behind him.

And then, not even six feet from him, Alastair crawled right out of the wall.

Gabriel, being the first one to approach who could do so, healed Alastair. Then they all hurried into the docking station hidden by the false rock face.

“But no one knew this was here,” Sebastian said with disbelief as they entered. “This docking station is kept secret. Only elders arrive here.”

Which meant it would be private and unmanned, Caleb thought. He realized this was the loading dock at which they had arrived with the sisters upon their first visit to Central. And Sebastian hadn’t been the only Lekwuesti to greet them upon their arrival.

Caoilinn.

“What happened, Alastair?” Gabriel asked, grabbing the young Gloresti by the shoulders. “Your sword is here. You were bleeding. What do you remember?”

Alastair’s eyes were wide as he looked from Gabriel to Caleb and James. “I am sorry,
archigos
. I remember nothing before waking—except for the pain.”

Gabriel made an almost primal sound in the back of his throat as he released Alastair’s shoulders. His eyes had been dark blue since Caleb first realized something was wrong, and he now looked to his fellow elders.

“Alastair, I believe someone has influenced your mind,” Malukali said as she stepped forward. “I would like to scan your recent memories.”

“Of course,
archigos
Malukali,” Alastair said, bowing his head. “Anything I can do.”

She stepped forward and touched both sides of his head. Dark green light glowed from her touch. “I am calming your emotions as well as your thoughts.”

“Yes,
archigos
.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“A loading bay.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I walked here with Tristan. We followed lieutenant Jean-Marc. He…” Alastair hesitated. His brow was drawn.

Caleb wanted to shake him to release the rest of the story from his mind. He also wanted to run to the closest platform and leap on it in pursuit of Skye. But he knew that the platform meant to transport the elders could conceivably go anywhere on the plane. He had to try and maintain patience that he simply didn’t think he had as they tried to figure out where their wives had been taken.

“It is okay, Alastair,” Malukali was saying in her calm voice, though she was surely stunned by the mention of her class’s lieutenant. “You were not acting under your own influence. Everything that happened leading up to the time on this platform was done at the command of someone else. What brought you here?”

Alastair’s eyes were blank under Malukali’s power. His tone was unemotional. “I stood near the waterfall with Tristan. We were watching them and waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For lieutenant Jean-Marc to give the command. He was waiting for the sisters to change their clothing. He suspected their avoweds would give them privacy for this.”

Caleb closed his eyes against the words. Their one moment of faith in their fellow Estilorians—the two minutes they had given their wives to change—was all it had taken.

“And when they had changed their clothing?” Malukali prompted. Her brow was dotted with perspiration.

“Lieutenant Jean-Marc told them about the poison.”

Now Caleb stiffened.

“What poison?” Malukali asked.

“The poison commander Caoilinn put into the water and juice.”

Exchanging looks with his brothers, Caleb fought back an outrageous rush of rage and fear over the Lekwuesti’s act of betrayal.

“The poison is intended to abort the babies the sisters carry,” Alastair continued in his monotone.

The words sliced through Caleb. He realized hazily that commander Balduin and
archigos
Ini-herit had reached out to support him.

Alastair continued his narrative. “The sisters did not look well. The lieutenant gave them all ten seconds to decide whether or not to follow him to receive the antidote to the poison. They had to do so without calling out for help. He used his Orculesti power to prevent them from healing themselves.”

That same ability would have kept the girls from using their telepathic connection to their husbands, Caleb realized as he swallowed hard against the pain searing through his chest and throat.

“They followed him. Tristan and I walked behind them. We had our swords.
Adelfi
Skye looked back at us. She looked…” Alastair trailed off, looking ashamed. Caleb clenched his jaw when he heard her name. “We were supposed to stop them if they tried to escape. I do not know why.”

“That is not important, Alastair,” Malukali said. There was a tinge of impatience to her voice. “We understand that you were influenced to behave as you did. Please continue.”

“We walked to this platform. Commander Caoilinn was here. As soon as we were all inside, she used her power to produce this illusion.”

Gabriel and Sebastian exchanged looks. Caleb thought his brother looked murderous.

“Her eyes were different,” Alastair said then, causing everyone’s heads to turn attentively. “She did not respond at all when lieutenant Jean-Marc dismissed her.”

There was a pause as Alastair frowned. Caleb looked from him to Malukali, willing the rest of the story forward.

“They were told to get on the platform if they wanted to receive the antidote.
Adelfi
Olivia asked to see the two remaining antidotes, as only one dose had been shown to them to entice them to the platform. Lieutenant Jean-Marc produced the two remaining vials and prompted them forward. But they hesitated. Tristan struck
adelfi
Skye then. She fell hard.”

Caleb took a deep breath. It didn’t do much to calm his out-of-control emotions. His gaze shifted to the edge of the platform where dark smears of blood dotted the stone.

“I knew it was wrong,” Alastair said. “I said so after
kyria
Amber threatened Tristan. I do not remember anything more.”

“Thank you, Alastair,” Malukali said, reducing the glow of her power and releasing him. “I am sorry you were so misused by one of my class.”

“Where did they go?” Gabriel demanded, moving closer to Alastair.

“I do not know,
archigos
.” Alastair’s eyes were now shining with moisture. He reached up to rub them, obviously not understanding what was happening to him. “I am sorry.”

Just then, Caoilinn hurried into the chamber. She obviously registered the mood in the atmosphere, as her face fell into serious lines as soon as she looked around. “What is it,
archigos
Sebastian? I came as soon as I received your summons. What has happened, and how can I help?”

Skye watched the coastline grow closer. She and her sisters were bound in restraints that tied their wrists to their ankles. While they were sitting, it wasn’t too bad. But once they reached land, she thought it would be beyond uncomfortable.

They had also been gagged. She could only assume it was because Jean-Marc and Tristan didn’t want them communicating with each other verbally or mentally, as they certainly weren’t going to alert anyone else with cries for help out in the middle of the ocean as they were.

At least they had been given the antidotes, she thought. She no longer felt any cramping and was otherwise feeling back to normal except for the dampening of her powers. She had to wonder just how long Jean-Marc would be able to maintain the damper. Sure, he was fairly powerful. From what she understood, he was essentially the fourth most powerful member of his class. But he would have to stop at some point, even to sleep. Wouldn’t he?

As they got closer to shore, her spirits sank. There were more dots along the sand than she had ever imagined. She didn’t understand how that was possible, as she had thought the location of the platforms to be secret. But someone must have known enough to convey this location to the Mercesti.

Soon, the platform hit the water. She felt her fear lurch into her throat. She focused on Amber, using her eldest sister’s calm demeanor to help center her.

They bounced on the waves, the wind whipping their hair as they rapidly advanced toward the shore. It was a minor miracle, to her thinking, that she and her sisters didn’t bounce right off the platform, seeing as they had no ability to grip anything. As it was, Olivia would have gone overboard if Jean-Marc hadn’t managed to grab her in time.

They soon came to a stop. It was a very eerie and bizarre feeling to be sitting just yards from the beach filled with Mercesti, yet not being visible to them. Skye looked at Jean-Marc, wishing he would reconsider.

“I am going to bind you together at the ankles,” the Orculesti lieutenant said. “I would not recommend resistance, unless you want to risk injury to your sisters.”

She sat while the two males connected her to her sisters. She had never seen the milky-colored binding they were using. It chafed, but wasn’t as hard as metal or as coarse as rope.

Once they were joined, they were told to stand. They realized as soon as they did that their hands could rise no higher than their thighs. They couldn’t even swing their arms unless their legs moved, too. And then, as though those hindrances weren’t enough, Jean-Marc tied ropes around their waists, securing their arms as tightly as he could manage to their bodies.

She might have found their precautions flattering if not for her towering fear. She did what she could with her meditative abilities to calm herself when the males off-loaded her and her sisters into the thigh-high waves. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel much calmer after her efforts. Her gaze centered on the approaching shoreline as they waded through the warm water. They moved toward it at an agonizing pace due to their constraints.

At last, they stepped onto the sand. Jean-Marc led the way, followed by Amber, Olivia, Skye and then Tristan. And when they finally reached the point of visibility of the Mercesti, Skye saw their leader smile.

“Well, well, well. Hello, girls,” Grolkinei said.

“Where did the platform go, commander?”

Caoilinn wept as she told them the coordinates. She was under Malukali’s power so she could help them piece together what happened. She had already revealed that she had been communicating information about the sisters and their Gloresti to Jean-Marc for some time, though she hadn’t realized it. She also admitted to adding the poison to the beverages in the picnic lunch.

“Did they share any more of their plans with you?” Malukali asked.

“Only that they intend to draw us into battle using the sisters.”

“Thank you, Caoilinn,” Malukali murmured, easing her hands from the Lekwuesti’s head.

Choking back a sob as she blinked back into focus, Caoilinn looked at Gabriel and his brothers. “I am deeply sorry.”

“Caoilinn, you didn’t have any control here,” Gabriel said in a voice that sounded harsher than it was intended. “You’re a victim, too. We don’t have any idea right now how many others were used as you and Alastair were, and anger is useless. If you want to help us, you need to regroup and begin outfitting every Estilorian who is ready for battle with armor.”

Raising her chin, she nodded. “Yes,
archigos
.” She turned and hurried from the chamber.

His gaze shifted. “Sebastian, we need all of Central’s platforms programmed to those coordinates as soon as possible. And please have Lucas prepare Aurora and Titan. We’ll need them. Uriel and Ini-herit, it’s time to identify those who’ll be fighting. Use your best judgment. I don’t want anyone who isn’t ready going out there to be killed or getting someone else killed due to inexperience. Knorbis and Malukali, the same goes. Zayna, we need Scultresti with us who can generate quickly to heal others.”

The elders nodded.

“Jabari, we should have a meeting with all of the team leaders before we board the platforms. The Elphresti can present everyone with strategies that you believe will be the most successful.”

“Certainly, Gabriel,” Jabari said.

Caleb drew strength from Gabriel’s confident tone and decisive words. His emotions had him barely able to think. His gaze moved blankly around the room. He registered the looks from his fellow Gloresti. He noted concern, anger and sympathy among most of them.

Would any of them have prevented this if they had been paired with Skye instead? he wondered bleakly.

“Caleb and James, come with me,” Gabriel said then. “Everyone else, we’ll leave within the hour.”

Caleb’s feet moved one in front of the other behind Gabriel and beside James, but it was almost as if they moved independently of his brain. He didn’t look to either side as they passed groups of Estilorians who were just then getting the news. They all felt the sense of urgency flowing through Central as the alarm went out.

Were they thinking as he was that he was a failure as a Gloresti?

Gabriel led them to their rooms. He flicked his hand toward the door to his room before they reached it. It flew open. They walked inside and it slammed shut behind them. He went to the middle of the room and started pacing.

“I need a minute to—” he closed his eyes, inhaled sharply and shook his head. “God.”

Caleb realized then that his leader wasn’t nearly as calm as he had projected. James had gone to lean against the table. He was rubbing the flat of his palm against his chest, as if to ease an ache.

“I should have gone behind the waterfall with Amber,” Gabriel said as he paced, running a hand through his hair in obvious agitation. “One at a time. Damn it, I know better. I should have—”

“We,” James interrupted. “
We
should have. And now we have to live with the fact that we didn’t.”

Caleb didn’t reply. He was still standing just inside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. He couldn’t get any closer to the table where they sat as a family so often. His emotions suddenly leveled out, in direct opposition to the obvious upheaval being experienced by his brothers. He knew he had to push past his feelings if he wanted to get Skye back. Indeed, it was this ability to control his emotions that had proven to be such a perfect complement to her basic nature. He had to believe it would aid him in getting to her now.

After a moment, Gabriel abruptly stopped pacing. He turned to Caleb. “How did you know?”

Understanding, he replied, “Intuition. Something didn’t feel right. I tried to connect with Skye’s thoughts and couldn’t.”

Gabriel once again shook his head. “Privacy. I wasn’t connected to Amber’s thoughts during those two minutes because she deserves privacy. Jean-Marc and Tristan knew it and took advantage of it.” He resumed pacing.

“Poison,” James said, his tone cold. “If anything has happened to them—”

“Jean-Marc and Tristan have already made their choices,” Gabriel interrupted in a ruthless voice. “Traitorous bastards.”

Caleb had to admit that learning of Tristan’s involvement had hit him like a kick to the gut. The affable Gloresti had been unfailingly diligent in his training, and polite and friendly toward the sisters. He hadn’t given any indication that he was dissatisfied or grudging. Caleb would have gone into battle with him without a thought.

It really made him question his ability to judge character.

“Jean-Marc is obviously skilled with dampening,” Gabriel said. “He’s so skilled that he evaded Malukali’s detection all these months. He won’t be able to keep it up forever, but Grolkinei will have Layla and others on standby to pick up where he leaves off. We have to anticipate that we won’t be able to connect with the girls mentally when we’re down there.”

“The cats will find them,” James said. “They have an enhanced connection to Olivia that surpasses just sharing thoughts. Wherever Olivia is, Amber and Skye will be, too. The Mercesti will have to keep them together to keep their powers dampened.”

“I’m not sure that finding them is going to be the challenge,” Gabriel said. “Grolkinei wants to be found. He’s using the girls to draw the rest of us into battle.”

That was when it hit Caleb—the line of the Great Foretelling that had so affected the sisters.
And the new beings who had once been considered unworthy outsiders will lead us all to our fates.

The prediction had been accurate, if not exactly literal. The sisters were leading them into battle…and it was now time to accept their fates.

Skye felt the many pairs of eyes on her and her sisters as they stood on the beach in their wet clothing and thorough bindings. Grolkinei’s red gaze shifted between the three of them after his cheerful greeting. He stood with his legs braced apart and his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a flowing light gray shirt with black pants and boots. There was a silver chain around his neck, a sword and scabbard around his hips, and two daggers strapped to his thighs.

“You should kneel in front of your betters,” he said in mild tones. He caught Amber’s gaze, which Skye imagined was scathing. “You have two seconds to do so or I will break Olivia’s fingers one at a time until you do.”

They knelt.

“How interesting,” he said as he walked slowly in front of them. He reached out to stroke Olivia’s cheek. She pulled back. The reaction made him smile again. “It will be fun to discover just what you will each do to protect one another.”

Skye’s heart rate hadn’t slowed in tempo since she first spotted Jean-Marc. But now, anger had her fear taking a back seat.

“Bow your heads,” he said.

Not having any choice, they did so. He chuckled. Then he turned to Jean-Marc and Tristan.

“Excellent work. You will certainly be rewarded for your efforts.”

“Thank you, my lord,” they said.

Skye wondered why it was the two traitors hadn’t yet converted to Mercesti. She could only guess it was because it wasn’t the Mercesti’s immediate intent to kill them. She supposed there was something positive to take from that.

Then Grolkinei unsheathed one of his daggers, making her rethink her assumption as her heart pumped violently. Since he was standing in front of her, he reached out and swiped the dagger down the length of her forearm. She barely felt the sting of the slice to her flesh, telling her the blade was exceedingly sharp. Warm blood quickly started flowing, dripping onto the sand. He walked over to Olivia and then Amber, doing the same to each of their forearms.

“Hmm. Not even a flinch from any of you,” he said with approval in his voice. He wiped the blood from his dagger and resheathed it. “Excellent.”

They sat there for several minutes as the blood continued to drip onto the sand. Skye’s neck was getting stiff from being bent down for so long, and she was pretty sure her feet were asleep. There wasn’t a sound around them outside of the waves hitting the shore.

Finally, he said, “That should send enough of a message. Bind their forearms.”

One of the nearby Mercesti wrapped some white fabric around her forearm and then lifted her to her feet as other Mercesti did the same with Amber and Olivia.

“It is time to move on,” Grolkinei said. He accepted something from another soldier and began shrugging it on. “Since none of you can extend your wings thanks to our ability to dampen your powers, we will carry you.”

She noticed another Mercesti pulling on a second harness. She recognized him as Angius. His gleaming bald head and savage, scarred features hadn’t changed at all since they had last seen him. He stared at Amber, who was deliberately gazing straight ahead at nothing in particular, by all appearances bored out of her mind. The third harness was tossed to a dark-skinned male with an abundance of hair spearing out of his head.

“Angius, you will carry Amber. Baldemar, you will carry Olivia. I will carry Skye.”

Joy, oh joy
, she thought sourly.

Olivia and Amber both flicked glances at her as Grolkinei approached. His gaze swept consideringly from her toes to her eyes. Then he pulled out the same dagger he had used to slice her forearm.

Holding her gaze, he stepped to within inches of her. His voice was loud enough only for her when he said, “Your choice of clothing is unfortunately not suited to the harness.”

He slowly lowered until he was squatting in front of her, then used his dagger to slice the skirt of her dress. He cut the material away until the skirt reached just past her backside. He tossed the remaining fabric carelessly to the side. As he stood back up, he trailed his fingers along her bare leg.

“Even better in person,” he said meaningfully when he was again standing.

Struggling against her revulsion, she merely stared back at him and thought of the many ways Caleb would make him suffer.

Grolkinei and his commanders untied the bindings that joined her with her sisters and then situated them in the harnesses. Her heart hammered violently when he pressed her back against his chest as he secured the various straps. Her hands had once again been secured so that they were in front of her. Her arms were still tied tightly against her body, giving her very limited mobility. Once she was in the harness, Jean-Marc rebound her ankles.

She wanted to kick him in the face, but decided it wasn’t worth the sore toes it would cause her bare feet.

They lined up to take flight: her and Grolkinei in the middle, Layla and Jean-Marc on either side of them, and Angius and Baldemar on the outsides with Amber and Olivia. She realized that Grolkinei was taking no chances with the dampening effects.

A moment later, they were airborne. Flying was something she typically enjoyed. At the moment, however, she thought the alternative of having a root canal would have made her do celebratory back-flips. She couldn’t quell the shudder that went through her when Grolkinei’s arms went around her. It might have been the most logical posture for him and it might have even been serving as an additional security feature to keep her from plummeting to her death, but she wanted to break both of his arms clean off.

“You smell even better in person, too,” he said against the side of her neck. “Like ripe peaches.”

Her stomach lurched.
Oh, please
, she thought to herself as she screwed her eyes shut and swallowed bile,
don’t throw up with this gag in your mouth. Please.

They flew for several hours. On a number of separate occasions, he sliced her with his dagger while they flew, allowing her blood to drip into the wind. She witnessed Angius and Baldemar doing the same thing to her sisters at different intervals and understood they were leaving a very clear trail. Three other times, they landed to rest. She and her sisters were cut then, too. After the last cut, she had wounds on both forearms and up and down both legs. Her body was a mass of pulsing pain and she felt light-headed. How much blood had she lost?

Her sisters were both also covered in blood and looked pale and woozy. She knew she was dangerously close to passing out. Only the knowledge that she would be leaving herself entirely at Grolkinei’s mercy if she did so kept her conscious.

“Last leg of our journey,” he said as he slowly wound a white bandage around her right thigh. She couldn’t even find enough energy to be concerned that his hands were in such an intimate place on her body. “If you will excuse the pun.”

She looked down at the small pool of blood that had gathered between her feet from this last injury. It made her sway.

“Uh-oh,” he said with a grin, rising and reaching out to steady her so he could secure her again in the harness. “It appears it is a good thing this was the last bleed. I do not think you will last through another one. I did not consider that you do not heal as quickly as full Estilorians.”

He was absolutely right. He was also unaware of the fact that her blood was nurturing two fetuses in her womb. The wounds she had received were all significantly more than mere scratches, and she was still bleeding. Even the injury he had first caused her hours before had bled through the inadequate dressing. She felt blood trailing down both arms and legs. It wasn’t gushing, no, but she feared the slow and steady drain would prove more than enough to cause considerable damage.

When her head drooped, she had to struggle to bring it back up. And as the world spun crazily around her and darkness ringed her vision, she had the random and final thought that it would be just her luck to end up dead by accident.