Siren's Song (27 page)

“Care to do anything about this cloud?” one of the guards asks after an hour of riding in silence.

I glance up. Oh.

Tannin leans forward from the other side of him. “It might help us move quicker.”

Right.
“Sorry.” I whisper up a breeze to blow a clean path from us to the lights glimmering one by one in the far distance. Behind me Myles begins murmuring, but when I turn to see what his problem is, he's not directing it at me. He's not directing it at anyone. As if he's here but he's not, and whatever he's seeing is keeping him stuck inside his pale head even as he's looking around frantically.

Every once in a while a low moan escapes his quivering lips, indicating the images in his mind are of torment. And every so often a few escape to startle the horses and scare the hulls out of the guards and Kel. I shiver and glance away to Mia and the male Cashlin.

“He's getting worse,” she says.

“How long?” is all I reply.

She shrugs. “The longer he stays in his visions, the more chance he has of getting lost in them forever. Until he ceases to function at all.”

I nod and press the fog back even farther. “If I get us to the northern border . . .” I drop my tone. “Do you think you could get a read on precisely where Rasha's being held?”

“If we can reach the scouts. Or better yet, wraiths.” She looks around. “But how would you even rescue her? You've no boat or airship, nor have you nearly enough people.”

I don't mention the airship over the waterway. I merely glance back at Lord Myles, who's stopped muttering long enough to eavesdrop on us. “I'm working on that,” is all I say and hurry us toward the next main village.

We're met by a similar crowd as before. And the common-house speech goes almost exactly the same, minus the disgusting ex–slave
owner. It's a room full of doubtful then cheering patrons—only this time the people are edgier.

“We convinced them and that is enough,” Tannin assures me as we rush out the back doors again, just like last evening, before the crowd overtakes us.

The same happens again at another village in the evening. But this time people are waiting when we attempt to leave the common house in an atmosphere that seems strange. It's the expressions on their faces. These people don't merely look admiring; they seem desperate. Like the people in the High Court.

A bump against me and I'm tripping into Tannin, who flips around and pushes his sword out farther. “Hold steady and do your jobs, men!” he yells.

They're too late, though. I already feel the knife against my tunic, slicing clean through it, and I'm reaching for mine in a flash as I push Kel out of the way and turn to shove my blade toward the man who's lunged for me, but he's already backing away, taking a piece of my cloth with him. And a lock of my hair.

What the—?

I reach up to grab at my thick tresses—still there aside from one chunk on the right side. When I look at the man, a fight has broken out between him and the other peasants who are bartering over it and the tunic piece as if they are good luck tokens.

Two guards fall upon them until I yell to leave them. It doesn't matter.

Abruptly I'm being placed upon Haven and all I can hear is Tannin's shouting at them to get us out of here.

We ride and don't speak of it because there's nothing to say.

At least until Kel decides there is. “Perhaps you should give them your undergarments too, Nym. Wonder what those would go for on the market.”

A chuckle emerges from the soldiers even as Tannin snaps, “Young master, that's highly—”

I hold up a hand. “He's fine.” And then a chuckle of my own is slipping out.

Soon the idiocy of such an awkward event and Kel's suggestion overtakes us fully, and our laughter is ricocheting through the Valley.

“Can you imagine?” Humor dances through the boy's eyes.

“No, and you shouldn't be either,” I laugh back. “Perhaps Lord Myles might lend us some images, though.”

“Ah, I would, my dear. But in my visions the poor men would give them back, I'm afraid.”

Half of us flip around to stare at him and the fact that he's somehow coherent before the bursts of hysteria shoot even louder. He extends me a weary smile through the dim, and something about it—the smile, his humor, his bleeding insulting jabs—makes me miss him terrible-like.

Which might be the strangest feeling I've ever encountered.

“How are you?” I ask when I'm finished clutching my stomach from the laughter.

“Insane. Got anything to drink around here?”

Mia looks at me and starts to speak, but I've no time to react before a sensation hits my blackened hand veins and I feel a tug in them as I swear a wisp of black seeps from Myles's chest. It shutters around him like a fog and his eyes shimmer darkly.

Kel jumps. “Holy mother of—”

Myles's eyelids flutter. “No worries, young man, I've not lost my head completely. Soon enough you'll see the ability heighten my creative power. And that will give us the upper hand in this whole bleeding war.”

I nod at Tannin to pull out a small flask of watered-down wine
for the Lord Protectorate, who nods his thanks and sets to nursing it while I stare at his eyes. They're set and scheming, even if they look like hollow caves in his face.

After a moment he hands the wine back and goes back to watching the road, seeming unaware of the wisp clinging to him like death.

“Nym, what's—?”

“Not now, Kel.”

We ride, and I continue to watch Myles under the stars until our horses are finished and we're forced to stop for another night. Haven makes her annoyance known as Tannin and I work to unsaddle her. She wants to keep going. I can feel her excitement in her tense muscles and neck. I can relate. Being out in the fresh air and the wind whipping through our hair and smelling her musky scent brings a whispered longing for freedom.

Freedom.

Ha. Everything seems to lead back to that word lately.

Something about it sparks the recollection of my father shaping my little sword with his big hands.
“The blade isn't to rule with, Nymia. It's to bring freedom.”

I bite my lip and cough at the weight it brings to my ribs. I didn't even know that memory existed. Bleeding Inters.

I place my blankets beside Myles's, then glance up to find Mia doing the same. She shrugs and tips her head toward him, indicating the images flickering around him so fast they're like apparitions. But ones he's clearly in control of. They are images of multiple ways Draewulf could die.

“He's calculating all the possibilities,” Mia murmurs.

The horses are aware of the pictures too, which makes them spook and whinny. Myles is scratching his veins as pictures of himself holding a blade come in and out of focus. The guards
draw closer to the visions before I notice Kel backing away as they portray Myles going through a room and slitting throat after throat of people tied up.

“Kel, close your—”

But Tannin has already slapped a hand over Kel's widening gaze for me.

Thank you
, I mouth. And when I turn back to Myles, his face is dripping with sweat.

“Nym, this is incredible,” he murmurs just before he lays his head on his mare's mane and shuts his eyes.

I glance at Mia and Tannin. “How soon can we reach the northern border?”

Tannin raises a brow. “That's not on our route, miss. The closest we come is our final stop in Litchfell, which—”

“How soon, Tannin?”

“Two days, tops. But are you saying we abandon the rest of your tour—”

“I'm saying we finish down here and then head for the border before entering Litchfell. If we can meet up with King Sedric's scouting parties or wraiths—”

“Pardon, miss, but I'm uncertain how they'll help. I'm aware you'd like to locate Princess Rasha, but Draewulf will have her more highly protected than any of our units are prepared to—”

“I'm aware of that, but I believe we already have an idea of where she'll be. Plus, we have the advantage of Lord Myles.” I peer over at Myles who, even though still resting on his horse's mane, seems somewhat sane at the moment. Even if the veins beneath his facial skin are all blackening, making him look aged about twenty years. “Who I plan to put to good use.”

“And may I ask how?” Myles slurs.

I purse my lips and unload my bag as the itching beneath my own wrist veins picks up.

After a moment Mia says, “She's going to use herself and you as bait.”

CHAPTER 26

I
T'S NOT UNTIL THE FIFTH MORNING AWAY FROM THE Castle—when my anxiety's been spiking along with my plans—that I notice it.

The fog is reeling back over the blue-gray hills to dissipate over the sea, and the sunrays are just beginning to warm the dirt. The guards are cleaning up breakfast while the rest roll up bedding, and I've begun to tie blankets to the horses, who're still acting jittery. Even Haven is shuffling and stamping her hooves.

I look up to fog-fingered mountains and sniff the air. I smell nothing and yet . . .

And yet I can taste something. The moment I recognize the sensation, it's like my blood comes alive with awareness of how deeply it's moving over the atmosphere.

I almost gag.
Draewulf's presence.

“I'm coming for you, pet.”

It nearly knocks my knees from beneath me, as if it's been moving in all along but so subtle, so slow, I failed to recognize the reek. I scan the purple horizon—searching for what? I don't know. His airships? Warning pyres? Wraiths?

Not even a flesh-eating bird trolls the sky or interrupts the song of a nearby thrush.

So why is a shiver curling my spine?

I glance over at the men and Mia, who've been so supportive, living, sleeping, eating together, and rushing me in and out at each of the five towns we've stopped at. And try not to think of what I'll be making them face tomorrow.

Just focus on the task at hand, Nym. Focus on today and the village marked on Eogan's map.

“We need to move out,” I say to the group and, without further explanation, climb onto Haven and turn toward the mass of green coating the northwestern rim at the base of Faelen's Fendres Mountains.
Litchfell.

It's not until I look around for Myles that the uneasy feeling comes back. When I don't see him, I turn to Tannin. “Has anyone seen the Lord Protectorate? We have to go.”

“He's gone,” Mia says quietly.

“He's what?” I spin around.

“He went for the princess,” she says.

“He did
what
? Is he insane?” I almost laugh.

“Gilford tried using the wristlet on him, but we couldn't stop him in time.” Her tone is beyond apologetic.

Is she jesting? “And you didn't wake us?” Why wouldn't she?

Mia grabs the reins to her horse and falls in line with the rest of us. “He'd already made up his mind.” A rimming of red fills her eyes, indicating she'd read him. “He would've injured your men and still escaped. It seemed better to let him go.”

I glance around at the group.

“He did ask me to inform you that his ability could exhibit enough for what needed to be done, so there was no sense in wasting your life as well.”

I pause. He said that?

Mia nods.

Oh.

I shake my head. “He's an idiot.”

“Completely.”

“How does he think he'll make it across the waterway, let alone up into Tulla?”

“He is the king's cousin. It will take little convincing to get the Faelen captains to believe he's under King Sedric's orders. Or under King Eogan's, for that matter. I believe he means to hitch a ride on one of the airships Faelen's men have supposedly confiscated in the waterway.”

“And will he actually make it to Rasha?”

“I don't believe so. But he feels it's his responsibility to try.”

Of all the blasted—I pound my fist on my thigh and swear at him.

“Better he dies trying than destroy the rest of us with his disease.”

The way she says it stops me in my tracks. I don't even have to look at her to know her eyes will be reddening around the pupils as she reads my intentions. The ones that are saying I don't know if I could've killed him had it come to that, and I'm quite sure her pacifist self couldn't have either.

I breathe out for only the humidity to hear. “So he's going to get himself killed.”

“Yes. At least without our help.”

“Will he even get close to Rasha?” I mutter after a moment.

“We'd have to follow him to find out.”

I study Tannin's expression that claims he's been taking this all in. He shakes his head.

“I know you disapprove—”

“I only fear for your safety, miss. The king's cousin has made his choice, but you—”

“You know well enough I've already made mine too. We came
to rally the people and then find a way to rescue Rasha, if that's even a possibility.” I glance at the horizon. “Now Myles has just given us a head start.”

“Miss, I—”

“Either arrest me or follow me, Tannin. But we're only a few hours from Litchfell and we can follow that toward the border today if we start now. So what's it going to be?”

After a moment he tells the group to fall in.

Good. Thank you.
I nod at him and set Haven free to ride for it, leaving the others in our dust for a while. Until it begins to mist so heavy the group swears at me to quit messing with the weather.

“I rather like it,” I'm tempted to inform them but, instead, ease up and bring out the sun like a semi-decent person.

“As if following Lord Myles's tracks wasn't hard enough,” one of the guards groans.