Haven (War of the Princes) (21 page)

           
I was just beginning to regain my breath, feeling weak beyond measure by my recapture, when the Dragoons parted for two men on black warhorses. Their armor was the same color as the other Dragoons, but obviously superior in design. Intimidating battle helms covered their faces. They dismounted and walked straight to me, only pausing to nod down at the
Lurcher’s
body.

           
The first was tall and gangly, even with the added mass of his armor. He removed his helm when he reached me and I sucked in a breath at sight of his face. One side of his cheek, from his brow to his jaw, was split with silver metal. The way the skin was parted, it seemed like the metal was protruding from within his face. The other side looked physically normal. He was middle aged, with a receding hairline, a long, crooked nose, a thin line for a mouth, and deep, laugh-wrinkles crowding his temples. His eagle eyes narrowed on me and I could feel malevolence radiating off of him. I’d never felt such hostility in my life.

           
I tried in vain to pull away but the militia soldiers held me where I was.

           
When the second man shouldered ahead of the other and removed his helm, what I saw in his face was even worse. Metal pushed up in ridges over both of his brows, jutted out of his cheeks, split the side of his upper lip and replaced two of his teeth with shiny silver hook-like fangs. The same darkness emanated off of him, but there was more control in his eyes. Shocks of grey mingled in his short, dark hair. His skin was the leathery tan of a man in his mid forties. Metal growths aside, his stern features were remarkably average.

           
“By the Prince,” the fanged man said when he looked at me. He grabbed my face in his hand and forced me to look up at him. “You fools. You
damnedable
fools. You know not what rests even in your grasp. Tell me, Common-Lord Axton, do you know what this is?”

           
I pulled my face away and he released me. I was shaking with fear now. Part of me was in denial. It told me this was a joke or a dream. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How could they live with their faces so ripped from within by metal?

           
I was breaking down inside. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and self-loathing. I should have tried to run sooner. I shouldn’t have come this way. I should never have helped Rune. I should never have jumped into the cave pool.

           
“Please, let me go,” I begged the militia guards quietly. “Please.”

           
I was ignored.

           
“She could be from the North, Senior Commander
Fallux
,” Lord Brendon answered. “An insurgent perhaps? A refugee if we’re lucky.”

           
“You’re wrong,” said the Senior Commander in his gritty voice. “This is a Lodestone.”

           
“What?” Dylan exclaimed. “That’s impossible, it’s a myth. And she’s a person!”

           
“Hold your tongue,” Lord Brendon snapped at Dylan. “Sir, my ill-mannered brother does have a point. How could this girl be a Lodestone? They were said to be ore infused with power.”

           
“A misinterpretation of text. Look at her eyes… silver. She
is
infused with power. This is a Lodestone, no doubt about it. The first discovered in near a century.”

           
There was muttering between Dragoons and militia alike.

           
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trembling with shock. “Please, let me go.”

           
The Senior Commander’s smile was hideous. The way his skin pulled against the metal ridges pushing out of his jaw made me nauseous.

           
I turned to Dylan for help, but he crossed his arms and looked dejectedly away.

           
“Stakes, take care of the
Lurcher
,” Senior Commander
Fallux
ordered the man beside him.

           
For a moment, Stakes just stood there staring at me predatorily, but eventually he turned on his heel and began delegating work to clean up the
Lurcher
.

           
In my mind I was crying out to my dad for help and wishing beyond reason that everyone in
Rivermarch
would find the passage in the mausoleum and come charging to my rescue. I knew it was stupid, but I also knew that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

           
Someone led Dylan’s horse and
Florian
to us. To my relief, the grey gelding was uninjured by his fall. Militia bound my hands and forced me to mount. I clutched the pommel of my saddle for support as they pulled
Florian’s
reins over his head and away from me.

           
“Now that you’ve rejoined us,” the Senior Commander said, turning to someone within the group of mounted Dragoons. “Bring the Lodestone to the Installation for observation.”

           
I didn’t like how he said the word “observation” one bit.

           
The Dragoon that Senior Commander
Fallux
singled out rode forward, flanked by two others. All three of them rode on the backs of black warhorses.
Florian
stamped nervously.

           
The lead rider, decked in the standard black and red leather armor, sidled close beside me, taking my reins.

           
Dylan was arguing with his brother, but his words held no meaning to me. My head was spinning. I felt sick. It was so wrong.

           
Of all these Dragoons, the man to take me to the den of my worst nightmare was Rune Thayer.

Chapter 21: The Installment

           
“I hate you,” I said, just loud enough for Rune to hear.

           
He betrayed no emotion, not the slightest alteration in his blank expression. He simply rode on, holding
Florian’s
lead.

           
“How can you do this? They’re going to lock me away,” I said desperately. He made no answer.

           
He didn’t even look like the same person, suited up in red and black armor with swords on his belt, a rifle on his back and a javelin holstered on his saddle. I couldn’t imagine him being the same guy who delicately and carefully painted the triumphant white tree in the maelstrom.

Our journey brought us parallel to town on a wide farm road. Just beyond the low hills of golden grasses and sparse trees were the peaks of Haven Valley’s mountains. The cave and the strange pool that would take me back to
Rivermarch
were right there at the foot of the range. I could feel the tug of home.

“Just give me my reins, please,” I begged.

There was no doubt that the other two Dragoons flanking us would chase me, but I was all for taking risks at this point. My speculations didn’t matter, Rune held his course.

“I saw
Lina
today,” I began saying, hoping to stir any compassion in him.

“Stop,” he said with enough quiet command to make me comply.

It made me feel horrible. I understood perfectly well that his sister was a sensitive subject. Talking about the family he wasn’t allowed to have probably pained him. Deep down I didn’t want to hurt him, even though I knew I shouldn’t care.

With daily agonies like these, it was no wonder that Haven Valley would want to separate itself from the rest of the world.

A short ride outside of Breakwater we faced a dismally dark fortress that clearly didn’t belong anywhere near the quaint old town. Constructed with dark wood and pitch metals, it reminded me more of the hovering steam ships I’d seen just outside the bay early that morning. Of all the horrible places I could imagine, I wanted to go here the least. I would have groveled a thousand times to be put back in the cell in Breakwater Keep’s dungeon rather than be taken anywhere near this fortress.

           
“I helped you,” I said miserably. There was no sound but the shuffle of our horses’ hooves on packed dirt. “I shouldn’t have.”

           
“We agree,” was his response. Anger and sadness poured through me in waves, each having a turn alongside my fear.

           
“You’re right. If I didn’t help you, I’d be home and you’d be dead,” I said bitterly. “We would both have what we wanted.”

           
Rune clenched his jaw.

           
Staring down at the ground passing below me, I wished I could leap out of the saddle and land without getting hurt. It would be impossible with my hands tied like this. Even if I managed it, three soldiers on horseback would overtake me easily. I exhaled and tried not to panic when we got close enough to pass under the shadow of the fortress.

           
The rusty iron portcullis of its exterior perimeter was raised and ready for our entry. The fortress was not overly large, within. A cluster of buildings with craggy towers sat at the center, surrounded by training yards with low fences.

           
I tried to imagine being taken here at thirteen years of age to begin a new life as a Dragoon. It was dark, horrible and frightening. How could he do this to me? After everything I’d done, how could Rune bring me here?

           
“Ruby, help me. Don’t give up on me,” I whispered when they brought our horses to a halt. Was there any chance at all that my best friend had tracked me to the graveyard in
Rivermarch
? It was a stretch but I wanted to believe it. I needed to believe I wasn’t alone.

           
Rune helped me from my saddle with surprising gentleness. I glared at him and pulled away from his touch as soon as I was on my feet.

           
The stable they took
Florian
to was surprisingly small considering this was the base of mounted soldiers. Two brown horses stood placidly within, but there were none of the black warhorses. I couldn’t imagine where they’d house so many of the creatures within these walls, but I wasn’t curious enough to ask.

           
My escort walked me up a flight of stone steps toward the huge double doors of the main building. There was no utterance of comfort, no word of encouragement. I looked behind me to see a group of Dragoons riding alongside an open wagon, under the portcullis. The lifeless
Lurcher
was the wagon’s contents.

           
The inside of the fortress was worse than I had imagined. The dark walls were unadorned and the floors were slick stone. There were no windows at all on the bottom floor and by the time they led me down a series of hallways and stairwells, I was breaking out in a cold sweat, just like I had in the mausoleum.

           
The cell I was to be held in had no bars, no windows, and only one small lantern for light. There was a pile of filthy rags to one side, and a chamber pot on the other.

           
I planted my feet. “I can’t go in there,” I said furiously shaking my head, feeling the coils of claustrophobia wrapping around my throat to suffocate me. Rune stood back while the other two Dragoons forced me in the room and locked the door. The last thing I saw before the door latched shut was his face, etched with regret.

           
“No,” I shouted, pushing myself against the door. It didn’t budge. “Please don’t leave me here! Rune, please!”

           
I was alone.

           
My hands pounded against the thick wooden door until my arms hurt and I crumbled to the floor. Shock overwhelmed any chance at tears.

           
My escape failed… I failed. I never wanted to see the twisted faces of the Commanders again, but here I was in their custody. What would happen to me?

           
Early that morning, I heard Dylan mention that they were searching for Lodestones, but that they were just a myth. How could I be a Lodestone? I was just a regular girl.

           
The image of Commander Stakes appeared in my mind, the tall, spider of a man, staring at me viciously. So that was what became of a Dragoon who drained another. Dylan was right. They really were monsters.

           
I was in so far over my head, I was drowning.

           
There was no way for me to tell how long they left me there. There was no natural light, no way to track time. I just sat there, curled against the door, wrapped in my scarf, with dirt and limp ribbons in my hair.

           
I cried until my head hurt and my eyes could produce no more tears. Wrapping my arms around myself, I squeezed my eyes closed and wished with all my might to wake up from dreaming. Imagining that I was back home was a small comfort. Maybe when we jumped into the water from the Clockwork Ferris Wheel, I landed wrong and got hurt. Maybe this was all an elaborate nightmare. I pinched myself three times but didn’t wake from my reality.