Soul of Smoke (14 page)

Snow crunched. The female Quetzal landed. She curled her lip at Cadoc, and then bent her head to examine the Naga.

“
Well served
,
Ranvir.
Be free in death
,” she intoned. One long, wickedly curved claw sliced across the soft part of the Naga’s throat. Blood spewed, spattering yellow scales, steaming in the snow.

The Quetzal wiped her bloodied claw on the ground. To Cadoc’s poison-addled mind, she seemed to move in odd bursts.

She turned her back on the Naga, now examining Cadoc. She raised a claw as if to slit his throat, as well. Cadoc closed his eyes and tensed, fear pooling in his belly, making his heart jump no matter how he told it to stop. It was a good death. A warrior’s death. His parents had died serving Rhys’s father. He’d make them proud.

Pain pricked the corner of his eye. Cadoc jerked his head back as best he could, blinking away a trickle of blood that clouded his vision.

“
Amethyst eyes and fire-red scales.
You’re Cadoc ap Brychan.
” She bared her teeth in a fierce smile. “
How perfect.
We’re combing the mountains for members of the false king’s vee
,
and you fly right to us.
The rest must be around somewhere.
”

Cadoc couldn’t answer. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to push himself up, but the smaller Quetzal knocked him back with a sharp shove. His vision blackened at the edges, and he felt himself shrinking. He’d taken too many injuries. His body was making him human, trying to help him heal faster.

“
Let’s get him into the pit.
”

Chapter Thirteen

Without Her, I Am Not

Rhys burned. Relentless pain radiated from his chest, seeping into the rest of his body. He threw off the sweat-soaked blankets and sat up.

Kai.

The farther he was from her, the more exquisite the ache. It infuriated him. A different kind of pain accompanied that thought, a twinge he didn’t expect: rejection.

Anger flared. At himself, for being so stupid. At Kai, for her selfishness. At Cadoc, for his betrayal. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. Trying to distract himself, he reached for his father’s journal. He ran his fingers over the three-dimensional design on the front cover, taking comfort from the familiar gesture. The cover was wearing thin. Soon, it would fall apart completely.

The tithe arrived today.
Fifteen human girls and none worth a second glance.
They’d better come up with something better
,
or the people of Gwynedd are going to find themselves without protection...

Rhys flipped forward a few pages. His father had, in general, been a decent king and a good leader. He just hadn’t been very generous when it came to humans.

One week since becoming heartsworn.
Mair isn’t bad to look at.
Not as juicy as her cousin
,
the little peach Dumos ended up with
,
but not bad.

Rhys grunted, glad Kai hadn’t come with a sister. Though heartswearing to humans tended to happen if a dragon spent too much time among them, it was almost guaranteed within certain human bloodlines. The last thing any of them needed was another Wingless mate.

...When the heartswearing took hold of me
,
she tried to run.
She didn’t care who I was or who she’d become once we were sworn.
When I pinned her and got the kiss
,
the wench actually bit me hard enough to draw blood.
She managed it right in the middle of the swearing.
I
got a good laugh out of it.
She hasn’t shown much backbone since.

Rhys snapped the book shut, wincing when the delicate pages clapped together. The journal was on record, but there was something about having the actual book, his father’s handwriting.

And his mother had beaten his father in the end, more or less. If the Council was to be believed, she’d gone to Owain to sunder the heartswearing and both his parents had ended up dead.

Rhys rubbed his chest. Thinking about his parents would do more harm than good. He tried to lie down again, only to find himself out of bed less than a minute later. Ancients, it
hurt
.

Next thing he knew, he had hauled the curtain aside and was shaking Ashem, who lay on one of the beds in the sleeping room. He looked over to where Kai slept, but her place was empty. So was Cadoc’s. Guilt closed a tight fist around Rhys’s heart.

“Rhys?” Ashem went from sleep to wakefulness so fast, Rhys wondered if he’d truly been sleeping in the first place. The Azhdahā peered at him, dark brows furrowed over golden eyes.

“I can’t sleep.”

Ashem sat up, pushing disheveled black hair off of his forehead. “Sunder it, Rhys. There might be something in the hoard. Why did you wait so long?” Instead of waiting for an answer, he pushed out of bed and padded barefoot out of the sleeping room. Rhys followed. In the entrance cavern, he noticed a blanket-swathed lump next to the wall.

It was Kai. She had fallen asleep in the same spot he’d seen her last. Someone—likely Ffion—had covered her with a blanket.

“What is she doing out here?” Rhys rubbed fingers across his chest. The pain had plateaued, but it hadn’t gone. Need twisted inside him. He wanted to go to her, touch her, wake her, lay her in bed and—He bit back a moan and shut down those thoughts before they went any further.

Ashem made a sharp, dismissive gesture and led Rhys through the kitchen and down the tunnel to the hoard. They rummaged through the organized chaos of one shelf, then another. Finally, Ashem swore. “I told you there wouldn’t be a sleeping draft strong enough for this here. I’ll have to go back to the garden in the meadow. I’ll take Ffion to hasten the work. Ancients know she’s smarter than the rest of you combined.”

Rhys shook his head. “No. There’s too much risk.”

Ashem scowled at him. “You need sleep. You still aren’t well.”

Rhys forced his face into a neutral mask. “I’ll live.”

Ashem grunted, then asked, “The pain lessens when you’re near her?”

Rhys nodded.

With a sardonic smile, the Azhdahā said, “You could ask her to sleep in your bed.”

Rhys closed his eyes, willing himself not to let his mind go there. “And while I’m at it, I’ll ask if Owain will off himself and end the war.”

“I’m going to the meadow, Rhys. If I can’t make her swear to you, I can at least help you sleep.”

Rhys’s mouth pressed into a grim line, but he nodded. They headed back up the tunnel. Ashem was silent. That was normal, but there was something especially tense about it tonight.

“Is something wrong, chief?”

Ashem winced. “No.”

“No?” Rhys stopped. Ashem never winced. Rhys’s mind raced. “You’ve heard from Cadoc. Something has happened.”

Ashem scowled and kept walking. “No.”

“Where is he?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” Ashem snapped.

They passed Kai again. Rhys nearly went to her, but stopped himself. He was still too out of control. He might have to force her to heartswear, but sunder him, she’d at least be awake. “If you’d heard something, you’d tell us?”

Ashem didn’t make eye contact. “I’ll tell you anything you need to know.”

* * *

Hours later, Rhys sat in his tangled blankets, clenching his teeth against the pain. From the intermittent sound of snoring coming from the other room, Ashem had fallen into a fitful sleep a while ago. It was probably a good thing, since he planned to leave in the morning with Ffion.

When Rhys couldn’t take the ache any longer, he stood and headed for the main cavern. Someone, probably Ffion or Griffith, had moved Kai from the entrance into her bed.

He made himself walk by without stopping.

Griffith kept watch near the cave mouth, just inside the spell that kept warm air in and cold out. Instead of sitting, he worked through a form with a massive oak staff that whistled as he whirled it through the air.

“You’re up late.” Griffith stopped to lean against the staff, sweating, green eyes bright beneath the tightly curled hair plastered to his brow.

“As are you,” Rhys replied.

Griffith’s face was grim. “I don’t have it in me to sit still tonight.”

Rhys rubbed his chest. “Neither do I.”

“If I could, I’d go after him.”

“We could go together,” Rhys said, only half-joking.

Griffith smiled. “All right. Shall we strap Kai to your back or mine? The condition being, of course, that you explain to Ffion.”

Rhys laughed. “I’m more terrified of her than Owain’s entire army.”

“As am I.” Griffith grinned and whirled the staff. He jerked his head toward the wall, where another staff leaned against the stone. “Are you going to stand there, or are you going to work?”

They’d been friends their entire lives; there was no need to ask how Griffith had known he would come.

Rhys rolled his injured shoulder. The lingering weakness of Kavar’s venom still made his limbs feel like lead. “I can go a few rounds.”

With the first resounding
clack
of the staves, the world drifted away like smoke. Action, reaction. Block, parry, block, thrust, the back-and-forth of feet across stone. No incomplete heartswearing. No Kai. No missing Cadoc—

Griffith called a halt half an hour later when Rhys buckled to his knees. He leaned his forehead against his staff, panting and frustrated. Even against Griffith, he should be able to manage two or three times longer.

“We’re just resting,” Griffith said. He offered a cup of water, and Rhys gulped half of it down in one long pull. “Truly, though, how are you?”

“Out of control.” Outside, the snow from earlier had stopped. Mountain peaks glowed white, rolling away into the distance, reflecting the light of moon and stars. Rhys turned away from the sight and took a deep breath. It didn’t dull the pain. “I don’t know if I’m making the right decision. Cadoc—”

“Did a scalebrained thing. I’ve lived through heartswearing, Rhys. Instinct takes over. It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s half in love with her.” Rhys hadn’t meant it to sound so bitter.

Griffith chuckled. “He’s not in love with Kai. He just wanted to be. He lost his heart to someone else a long time ago. Though he wasn’t lucky there, either.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

Griffith shook his head. “It isn’t my place to tell.”

Rhys didn’t respond, not believing that Cadoc could be in love and never have mentioned it. The only thing Cadoc talked about more than women was music, though food took a very close third.

Silence was easy with Griffith, and this one stretched. Finally, Rhys caught his breath. He licked his lips, salty sweat mingling with cool water. “Griff. What was it like? For you and Ffion?”

Griffith leaned on his staff, his face thoughtful. “Quick. And unexpected. Like being struck by lightning, I imagine. She wasn’t thrilled at first.” He smiled. “Though I think I changed her mind.”

Rhys smiled, as well. “Thoroughly. Are you worried about her going tomorrow?”

“Ashem will keep her safe.”

Griffith’s tone was confident, but there was worry beneath. Unlike most heartsworn pairs, Griffith and Ffion had known each other their entire lives. They were members of the same vee, which was rare enough. Instead of heartswearing during a ceremony in Eryri, they’d sworn during a reconnaissance mission over the Chukchi Sea. Like Cadoc, who was well-known for his music, Ffion and Griffith were famous among dragons for their romance.

Rhys licked his lips again and changed the subject. Ffion and Ashem would be at risk tomorrow because of him. He had to believe that they would keep each other safe. “I’ve felt the lightning. I wondered more about...after.”

Griffith straightened and arched, the bones in his back cracking. “It’s...entirety. Completeness. Finality. You are half, and then you’re whole.”

“Isn’t it strange? To have someone else in your mind?”

Griffith shrugged with one shoulder. “When you’re sworn, it feels wrong not to have them there. But there are levels of intimacy. And if you want, you can block each other out.” He shook his head. “I know some who live that way. I don’t think I could.”

“But you love Ffion.”

He smiled, glancing toward the sleeping room. “Ffion is my soul. Without her, I am not.”

Rhys pushed himself back to his feet. “I don’t know if I can love like that.”

Griffith gave a rumbling chuckle. “You’ve only known her a few days. There’s plenty of time for love.”

“Or hate, if we’re like my parents.” All Rhys could see when he closed his own eyes were her fey green ones, the scattering of freckles over her nose...lips, sweet and full.
Ancients.
That was lust, not love. Lust had caused him enough problems. “What am I supposed to do? Take her to Eryri and hide her? I didn’t choose this. I don’t want this.”

“The wind blows where it will. We can only adjust our wings.” Griffith’s expression turned thoughtful. “Once you’re sworn you’ll be able to handle a bit of distance. Maybe Kai could go home while you settle things in Eryri. She could see her family, put her life in order, say goodbye.” He laughed quietly. “You could meet her father and brothers.”

Rhys thought of the distance, and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He rubbed his chest. “Even sworn, I don’t want her that far away. Humans are so...breakable.”

“She won’t be human. She’ll be Wingless.”

Rhys shook his head. Without Cadoc’s constant music, his thoughts were too loud. Any second he expected to see the tell-tale heat shimmer that surrounded a veiled dragon, a flash of fire, or to hear Cadoc’s voice in his head.

He whirled the staff. It was as heavy as stone. “Let’s go again. I can manage a little longer.”

Chapter Fourteen

Mine to Make

Juli stared into the rising sun. The light burned her eyes, but it kept her from crying. Blinking, she looked around. Everyone else was far below. They’d already looked this way, but Juli couldn’t shake the feeling that if Kai had gone anywhere, it would be up. She was determined to try the peak one last time.

She put one hand on the rough stone of the cliff base, not seeing or thinking, cool rock slipping away beneath her fingers. The days trekking up and down the mountain had taken their toll. And now...now some of the search and rescue people were saying Kai was dead.

Dead.

The farther she walked, the more her mind clouded. She waved a hand in irritation, as if surrounded by a swarm of gnats. The urge to turn around hit her hard enough to make her stumble. Kai’s face flashed through her mind, and she forced herself to her feet.
Keep moving
, she chanted at herself.
Keep moving
. The feeling that she was headed in the wrong direction grew, overwhelming her, and she stopped to breathe. There was no logical reason not to go in this direction. Zero. And yet, this feeling, like she was going to keel over or throw up if she didn’t turn around...

No. Every section on the map had to be searched. If she kept heading this way, she could put an X on the personal map she kept in her bag. The one that kept track of the places she had re-searched after everyone else had given up. And this was the way Kai’s arrow—if one could apply that name to the hasty jumble of stones—had pointed. Though the sheriff refused to believe it was an arrow at all. But it
had
to be. Kai wouldn’t have gone somewhere, willingly or unwillingly, without leaving a sign.

Juli would not give up, and she would not rely on strangers. She could only trust herself and Kai’s family—who had arrived mere hours after Juli had made the gut-wrenching phone call—to be truly thorough. The sheriff was here because it was his job. The volunteers were here to make themselves feel good. They didn’t care about Kai.

After a time, the fog eased. Moving forward became less of a struggle. She came fully back to herself in front of a deep ravine whose rocky floor sloped upward. There was no ravine on her map.

Suddenly, after days of despair, she
knew
she was going to find Kai.

She clambered up. Ten minutes later, she stepped out into a brilliantly sunlit meadow, wondering how the helicopters could have missed it.

The wind whispered through knee-high grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers and earth. Close by, a small hill rose above the rest of the little meadow. Here and there, swathes of dirt were visible. One huge, brown scar ran through the center of the meadow, as if something enormous had crashed and skidded. It wasn’t Kai, but it was more than anything anyone had come across so far.

Hope quickening her heartbeat, Juli stepped into the grass, heading for the hill. It would offer a better vantage point.

All thoughts of churned earth were driven from her mind as she came over the top of the rise and saw the wreck of a camp surrounding a stone fire pit. Beyond tall blackberry bushes, the edge of what looked to be a garden was visible. Who would grow a garden in the middle of the mountains?

Wary but curious, Juli jogged down the hill. Stepping over the rocks ringing the fire pit, she held her hand over the ashes. Cold. Cautiously, she touched the top layer, sending up a gray, smoke-scented puff. Still cold. She curled her fingers into the gray dust beneath. Cold. No one had lit a fire here for days. Nothing stirred in the meadow but the wind.

Then the sound of a woman’s voice, high and tuneful as birdsong, made Juli start.

A man replied, his voice deep and resonant. The skin on the back of Juli’s neck prickled. The sliding, musical vowels and precise consonants reminded her of water flowing over rocks in a stream.

Juli held her breath. So there were people here. They could know Kai’s whereabouts...or they could be the ones who had taken her. Juli pulled her hand from the ashes, dusting off her fingers. Suddenly, her decision to come here alone seemed extremely ill-advised.

She crept to the edge of the blackberry bramble, watching as a man and a woman came around the far edge of the garden. The man looked a few years older than Juli—perhaps in his midtwenties. The woman, who looked to be Juli’s age, was short, with a long mane of complexly braided bronze hair and a curvaceous body.

Juli exhaled, long and low as she studied the man. He was tall, with burnished skin, sleek black hair, a body like a UFC fighter and the fierce, hawkish face of a desert warrior. He froze, putting one hand out to stop the woman next to him, his gaze fixed on the spot where Juli hid.

Her heart pounded. He didn’t see her. He
couldn’t
see her. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

“Come out,” he growled.

They both stared at the spot now. Juli let her pack slide off one shoulder as she stood, ready to hit them with it and run.

The man rolled his eyes to the sky. “A thousand years without a breach in any of my barriers, and now two of you in a week. Who are you?” He had a hint of the Middle East in his voice, but it was spare, nearly covered by an accent from somewhere in the UK.

“Two in a week?” The hair on Juli’s arms stood up. He could only be talking about Kai.

The man scowled. “How did you get to our camp?”

“I’m looking for my friend, Kai Monahan. You’d have heard about her on the news.”

The man glared at her with eyes the honest-to-goodness color of gold. “Answer the question.”

She flashed her brightest smile. One caught more flies with honey. “I saw the ravine and climbed through.”

He regarded her a moment longer. “We haven’t seen your friend.”

The lie was blatant. Juli’s smile turned to ice. “I see. So when you said ‘two in a week...?” Her eyes fell on a bag slung over his arm. Between them, the man and woman carried several bags. Most were gray and covered with stitched patterns. One looked, disturbingly, like it was full of swords.

It was the smallest bag, however, that caught Juli’s eye. It was a faded, dirty sky-blue.

“That’s Kai’s bag!” She took a step toward the man, her hands half-raised, ready to snatch it. “Tell me where she is this instant. The police are coming up the ravine. They’re right behind me.”

“No one is coming up the ravine.” The man folded his arms, staring her down with his lion-eyes.

Juli pressed her lips together. The key to a good bluff was commitment. She folded her arms, as well, tilting up her chin. “I guess we’ll see who’s right when you go to prison for kidnapping.”

The woman looked thoughtful. She said something to the man in a fluid, musical language, never taking her gaze from Juli.

He shook his head and argued. The woman put her hands on her hips, pointed north, then back at Juli. From the sound of it, the man was getting a thorough dressing-down. He might have the kind of voice that could command armies, but under the tiny woman’s tirade, his resistance visibly crumbled. They went back and forth a few more times before he made a clear ‘do what you want’ gesture. Juli was about to interrupt when they finished.

“We know where Kai is,” the man growled.

Juli remained standing through sheer force of will, relief and terror rocketing through her. “She’s alive? Please, her family and I will do anything to get her back.”

The woman shook her head. “It’s not that easy. But I believe,” she glared at the man, “the people who love her should know she’s safe. She should have a chance to speak with you. We can take you to her, if you’d like. It’s your choice. Though I must make it clear that Kai can’t come home.”

Relief warred with desperation. She could see Kai. And if she could see Kai, she could save her. Juli stepped closer to Ffion. “What do you want? Money? We’ll come up with it, however much.” Even if Juli had to beg her drunken, negligent mother.

“What happened to the police?” The man’s full lips twisted into an impatient frown. “We don’t have time for this, Ffion. Rhys needs the draught tonight, and I still have to brew it.” He glared at Juli, his eyes roving down her body for a moment before he brought them back to her face.

“Will you come?” the woman called Ffion asked.

Juli couldn’t believe these people thought they had to ask. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”

The man folded his arms across his chest. “You are not making a wise decision.”

Juli tilted her head up, meeting him glare for glare. “It’s mine to make.”

“Then it’s done. Let’s go.”

“Go whe—”

Juli felt an odd, gentle pressure inside her head. Before she could finish her sentence, everything went dark.