The Healing Wars: Book III: Darkfall (5 page)

“Nya,” Aylin whispered sometime in the hours before dawn. “You awake?”

“Yes.” The wind had woken me a while back, gusting against the farmhouse like waves on rocks. No forests or mountains to stop it, I guess. Just open farmland.

I missed waves. And water. The caw of lake gulls riding the wind.

Aylin shook me. “Are you listening?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

She blew out a sigh. “I asked how long you were going to look for Tali.”

“Until I find her.”

“What if you don’t?”

I didn’t want to think about that. Or talk about it. Silence stretched in the darkness.

“I’m not trying to be heartless or anything,” she continued, “but if the rumors are true, if Geveg belongs to Gevegians again, well, going home would be a good thing wouldn’t it?”

I swallowed, but my mouth was dry. “Yes.”

“And I know Danello wants to, though he’d never tell you that. He worries about his father. So do Halima and the twins. They really miss him.”

“Maybe you should go without me.” It hurt to say, but how could I keep them all here, knowing they wanted to go home?

She snorted and thumped me on the arm. “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, maybe you should start thinking of ways to find Tali that don’t involve putting yourself in danger all the time.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Hire a tracker? I hear Vyand is good.”

I swatted her with my pillow. “Aylin! How could you even suggest—”

Something thunked against the outside wall, harder than just wind. Aylin popped up.

“What was that?” she whispered.

I slipped out of bed, careful not to rustle the covers or squeak the frame. Jeatar had good furniture, so it rarely made a sound. I was equally quiet on the carpet as I made my way to the balcony doors.

Another thunk, then scraping like metal on wood.

I tugged back the curtains just enough to peek out. Moonlight lit the balcony, reflecting off … a grappling hook?

A hand slapped the railing, then a leg. I turned to Aylin.

“Someone’s there,” I said. “Get out of—”

Glass shattered behind me, then hot pain pierced my back.

I
yelped and dived forward, away from whatever had clawed me. I hit the floor, but something else landed beside me. Small, and it moved, skittering back toward the doors. It snagged on the doorframe but broke through and caught on the balcony rail.

A second grappling hook.

“Aylin, get out of here!” I scrambled back to my feet as the first intruder kicked open the doors. More glass cracked, and a piece grazed my arm. It didn’t sting nearly as much as my back.

“Leave her alone!” Something flew past me.
Was that a chair?
Wood cracked against flesh and a man grunted. Aylin leaped from the bed, the blankets in her hands. She tackled the man and tangled him in the cloth, knocking him down.

The second man charged in and kicked her. Aylin cried out and flew back with an
oomph
. She slammed into the mirror, and glass shattered. I lunged at him, hands out, looking for flesh. I grabbed sleeves instead.

Skin, skin, I needed skin.

We struggled, my back stinging. He twisted and his arm slid back, down, then—skin.

Got you.

I
pushed
, the pain surging up through my shoulder and out my hands. He sucked in a pained breath and staggered back, tripping over his partner and sending them both back to the floor.

Light brightened the room, and I squinted, turning away. “Aylin?”

The lamp on the desk next to her was turned up full, all the shutters open. “I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t
sound
okay. She also had one arm pressed against her side.

The door to our room burst open. Aylin screamed and I pivoted, readying myself to dive at whoever was attacking us now.

Danello stood in the door wearing nothing more than sleeping britches and his rapier. He moved in fast, putting himself between us and the two men who were now back on their feet and holding weapons of their own. A knife for one, a short sword for the other.

Sword-man attacked, thrusting the blade at Danello. He parried it, the scratchy
ziinng!
of metal against metal raising the hair on my arms. Knife-man hung back, his face tight with pain. He had to be the one I had shifted into.

“Go find Jeatar,” I said to Aylin, nudging her toward the door.

She ignored me and grabbed a statue of a prancing horse off the desk. She threw it at Knife-man. He gasped and dodged sideways. Agile, but not as surefooted as Danello. Nor as graceful as Aylin. Who in Saea’s name
were
these men?

Both had dark hair, but they didn’t look like Baseeri soldiers. Well-made clothes, good boots. Clean-shaven, so not refugees. Trackers? Aristocrat guards?

Danello fought Sword-man while Aylin kept throwing whatever she could grab at the other. I scurried past Danello to the other side of the room, where there was more to throw. I flung a water pitcher. It glanced off his head and dented the wall.

Danello lunged forward, piercing Sword-man’s leg. He screamed and went down on one knee. Danello stabbed at the other leg, and he collapsed.

Fast steps thudded in the hall outside our room, many feet racing up stairs. Guards in brown uniforms stormed in, swords drawn. Sword-man rolled over and held out both hands, fury on his face. Knife-man ran back toward the balcony. Danello and the guards followed, but he was over the side and sliding to the ground before they could grab him.

“You got this one?” one of the guards asked Danello, tilting his head toward Sword-man on the floor.

“Yeah.”

The guards turned and ran out of the room. Danello stood over Sword-man, the tip of the rapier hovering above his throat.

“Don’t even think about moving,” he said. “Why did you break in here?”

Sword-man just glared.

“Are you okay?” Danello asked me without looking away.

“I’m fine.” My heart felt like it was about to thump out of my chest, and I wasn’t sure my knees were going to keep me standing, but both would pass.

“Aylin? Are you all right?”

“I think so.” She was still holding her side.

“I think not.” I hurried over, took her hand, and felt my way in. “Two broken ribs.”

She grimaced. “No wonder it hurt so much to throw those things.”

I
drew
, mending her ribs. Mine started aching.

“You’re really handy to have around, you know that?”

“Nya?” Jeatar slid to a stop outside the door, two steps ahead of Onderaan. Men with armor and swords were right behind them. Two came in and hauled Sword-man to his feet, then out the door. I don’t think his boots even touched the ground. Jeatar didn’t say where they were taking him but the scowl on Jeatar’s face said I really didn’t want to know.

Jeatar looked us over, his scowl turning to worry as he took in my ripped nightshirt and the blood smeared on my arm. “Who’s hurt?”

“I was, but not anymore,” Aylin said. “But there’s a man with a knife out there who’s probably not happy.”

“We’ll find him, don’t worry.” Jeatar looked like he hadn’t been to bed yet, but Onderaan kept rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking out on one side. He came over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, pretending he was Papa.

Jeatar stayed by the door. I’d never seen him look so scared before. Or so mad. Hopefully the mad part wasn’t at me.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

“Someone tried to kill Nya!” Aylin described the whole thing, yelling and waving her arms. She was scared too.

“We’ll post guards outside,” Onderaan said softly, patting my hand. “No unauthorized visits to the house.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I took a deep breath and looked at the broken mirror. Dozens of my own face stared back at me from the jagged glass. I turned and checked my back. A new scar ran along my shoulders, worse than the ones on my legs and chest.

Shifting was different from healing. I had time to think about the wound when I healed, and make sure it closed properly. With shifting, I didn’t think about it, I just did it. I’d shifted into so many. The prison guard. The foundry soldiers. The Undying.

And every shift had left its scar.

Jeatar moved us to a room with no windows at the center of the farmhouse, and we had to go through two other doors just to get to it. There hadn’t been any guards when we got there, but they were posted now. Lanelle had complained about them hassling her when she’d come to take the broken ribs I’d healed. Aylin ignored her the whole time, making a show out of talking with Danello.

“Who do you think they were?” I asked after no one else had shown up for a while. The guards had orders not to let me out of the room until they had the perimeter locked down. Which seemed to be taking an awfully long time.

“The Duke’s men?’ said Aylin.

Danello shook his head. “More likely sent by that aristocrat from Little ’Crat City. The Duke’s men wouldn’t have been so sloppy.”

I shivered. Never thought I’d be grateful for
amateur
assassins. “Think they caught him yet?”

“He had a decent head start,” said Danello. “It might take them a while.”

“Does that mean I’m stuck here until they do?”

“You should be happy about that.” Aylin shuddered, wrapping both arms around herself. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, I know people have tried to hurt you before, but not like this. Those were always fights, it wasn’t—
personal
.”

I knew what she meant. It wasn’t a soldier defending a foundry, or men guarding a room no one was supposed to see. These had been assassins sent specifically to kill
me
.

“It’s got to be breakfast time by now,” Danello said. “Want me to go down to the kitchens and get you something?”

Aylin jumped up. “You stay, I’ll go. I need to get out of this room anyway.” She left, giving me a wink as she shut the door. Where would she go first—the kitchen or to see Quenji? I was a bit surprised he hadn’t come by yet, but maybe the guards were keeping everyone away.

Danello smiled at me, but he was worried, too. “Good thing you’re not easy to kill.”

No, I was just easy to hurt.

“Healers are always hard to kill,” I said. “In the war, the soldiers would aim for their eyes or their hearts—kill them quickly before they could heal themselves.” You could always tell a Healer’s body by the wound that killed them.

Danello scooted closer and put his arms around me. I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I know the last few months have been awful,” he said. “Saints, the last five years have been awful, but we’ll get through this.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He pulled back and took both my hands. “Because we have each other.”

He smiled in a way that made it suddenly hard for me to breathe. He leaned in close, hesitating a whisper’s length away, then kissed me. A hot tingle ran down to my toes, like a flash all over my skin, but a
good
flash. It was suddenly hard to think too, but I was tired of doing that anyway.

“Wherever you go,” he breathed into my ear, “I go.”

Aylin returned much faster than I’d have liked, not even bothering to knock first. Her hands were empty, but her eyes were full of fear.

“Something’s going on and I don’t think it’s about you,” she said, not even giving me a sly grin after Danello and I jumped apart. This was serious.

“Any clue what?”

She shook her head. “People are running all over, Ouea doesn’t have
any
food set out, and I swear the servants are packing.” She paused, then gasped. “Oh! And the guards outside your door are gone.”

“They’re gone? Without telling us?” I rose. That couldn’t be good. “Did you see Jeatar?”

“No, but there were people coming in and out of the library.”

“Let’s go find out what’s going on.”

It was morning already, and sunlight poured through the windows. Servants were indeed running around with crates and carrying objects wrapped in tarps. Faces were tight, pale, and worried.

Jeatar stood at the big table in the library, maps spread out before him and soldiers around him. Ellis was there, but I didn’t see Onderaan.

“… down through the plains so we can stay ahead of them,” he was saying, running his finger along something on the map.

I stepped into the room, Danello and Aylin close behind me. “What’s going on?”

Jeatar looked up. “The Duke’s army is mobilizing, and it looks like he’s coming here.”

I went cold.

“We received a message from Baseer. The Duke is ferrying troops over to the west side of the river. He’s moving supplies, support staff, everything he needs for an extended march.”

“How many soldiers?” Danello asked.

“Rough estimates—between ten and fifteen thousand.”

“That’s too many.”

A brief smile flickered on Jeatar’s lips. “It is. He’s going to hit us, but we can’t be his only target.”

“You’re sure he’s coming
here
?” There was no reason to attack us. I’d caused him a mess of trouble, but you didn’t send a whole army after one person. Shiverfeet raced down my back.

Not unless that one person could destroy everything. Someone you thought you’d
already
killed.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Jeatar looked over at two men entering the room. He held up a finger, and I waited while he spoke to some of his guards. They hurried back out, shouting names. Jeatar turned back to me. “There’s no strategic reason for him to cross the river. The road from Baseer leads to both Verlatta and Geveg and is much more suited to travel. The only things of value on this side of the river are the aristocrats ready to stand against him.”

That wasn’t true. Jeatar was here. And I was pretty sure he was the rightful heir to the throne of Baseer. If I was right and the Duke had figured it out, he’d come after him fast.

“What about the people?” Aylin asked.

“I’m evacuating everyone to Veilig,” Jeatar said. “That should get them out of the Duke’s path and away from the fighting. He won’t chase us.”

“He will if he’s after you,” I said. The Duke had burned an entire city to get to Jeatar’s father and the rest of his family. Everyone who could have claimed the throne instead of him. I didn’t know how Jeatar survived, but he had scars he kept covered up.