The Hollow Crown: A Novel of Crosspointe (36 page)

Margaret nodded. Errol Cipher was one of the founders of Crosspointe and had built the Pale. No majicar since had even come close to matching his power and abilities until Lucy had been transformed last season. Except Shaye Weverton. Her stomach twisted with guilt. Nicholas had been searching everywhere for his nephew. As much as family in general and Shaye in particular meant to him, she couldn’t imagine he’d forgive her when he found out. She’d known what her father was doing and she’d kept his secret.

“She came to see me that night before I came to meet you at the safe house,” Keros continued, pulling Margaret back to the present. “She warned me that majick isn’t working the way it’s supposed to and she said the Pale could fail.”

Margaret stepped back, her stomach twisting. “What?”

“She was worried. She was going to the Bramble to look through Errol Cipher’s library. She told me we should feed the Wall tree as a precaution—to try to strengthen it. I didn’t have the chance before we left Sylmont. And another thing, Marten was with her. He went in to explore the remains of the Kalpestrine. He said there was an enormous
sylveth
ball the size of a ship deep down in the depths of it. He didn’t know what it was or what it meant. They said they would send word when they knew more.”

Margaret chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to sort through this new information. There was a tremble deep inside her that wouldn’t go away, and she felt like she might shatter to pieces at any moment. She felt overwhelmed and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep and let someone else deal with this entire mess. She held herself in a hard grasp. No. There was no time to fall apart and no one else who had this information. She had to figure out a way to deal with it all.

She dismissed the business about the
sylveth
ball. There was nothing she could do about it, even if she wanted to. Nor was the tree her first priority. She drew a breath and blew it out, squaring her shoulders. “So, we need to uproot the hoskarna, find Forcan and kill him, find a way to stop the majicars, and then at some point, feed the tree. That’s all?”

“That’s all.” He grinned tiredly. “Plus get word to your brothers. Weverton sent a man to find Ryland and warn him about the regent working with the Jutras.”

“I guess we should stop wasting time,” she said. “Let’s go give the others the news.”

She linked her arm through his. He stiffened and then pressed her close.

The smell of roasting meat wafted on the air and Margaret was surprised when her mouth watered. How long had it been since she’d eaten last? Her mind shied from the question, from remembering the last few days.

“Are you all right? You’ve gone white.” Keros covered her hand with his.

“Fine,” she rasped, forcing her legs to firm. “Just hungry.”

He didn’t push and for that Margaret was grateful. She’d told the story once and that had been enough. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. Never again.

Ellyn was turning the coneys on the spit when they returned. Her face was pinched tight with fury. Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. Margaret felt a twinge of something like disappointment.

“Where’s Weverton?” Keros asked before she could.

“Checking the horses,” was the frigid reply.

Margaret sat down near the fire and pulled a blanket around herself.

“Did you two have a nice walk?” Ellyn asked caustically.

“No,” Keros said.

She drew back at that, her brows winging downward. Just then Margaret heard the sound of footsteps and Nicholas returned. He paused, his gaze riveted on her, and then came to sit. He chose a place on the opposite side of the fire. He said nothing. Margaret felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Jutras or the danger they were in. She hadn’t realized how much she had wanted to be near him.

Silence fell, broken only by the sounds of the spit turning, the flitter and chirp of night birds, and the sneeze of one of the horses. Margaret was searching for the words to begin what must be said when her stomach growled loudly. She flushed.

“The rabbits will be done soon,” Ellyn said, not quite as coldly.

Nicholas stood and went to rummage in one of the packs. He brought out a hunk of cheese and two loaves of bread. He cut slices off both and passed them around. He never said a word, his fingers brushing Margaret’s impersonally. He set a flask of water down beside her and returned to his seat.

Margaret ate slowly. The bread was dry and the cheese hard, but the flavors were delicious. She sipped the water and ate more. She finished quickly. Ellyn pulled the rabbits from the fire and cut them up. She served them on a slice of bread. Margaret ate more slowly, careful not to burn herself.

When she was through, she looked at Ellyn and Nicholas. “I need your help,” she said.

“We’ve been helping you,” Ellyn said sharply.

“Yes, but the point has always been to help Azaire, has it not? Now I need you to help me—help Crosspointe. The things I’m about to tell you may make you want to scurry home and tell your Gerent, but there’s no time. Not if we are going to save Crosspointe.”

She looked at Nicholas. “And you—I know you hate the Crown rule. But there’s no room for division now. We have to fight together.”

“And you’ll trust me?” he said, the words sharp as hammerblows.

“Yes.” She looked down at her hands, trying to decide where to begin. But Keros spoke first.

“The reason the majicars of Crosspointe are going insane is because we have been infected by Jutras blood majick. It is taking root in all of us. The
sylveth
majick is fighting it and it’s driving us mad.” He looked at Ellyn. “We can’t change it or stop it. It’s done. We’ve been thrown into the tide and we are changed. There’s no going back.”

She stared, her face slack. “No. No, you’re wrong.” She thrust to her feet, her fists clenching. “I am no Jutras majicar. What is this? A joke? You talk about trust and then tell me this? You’re a lying bastard!”

She strode over to him and slapped him hard. Once, then twice. Her mouth was a snarl. She cocked her arm to hit him again and he caught her wrist. “It’s true. I can see it in you and if you look, you’ll see it in me. I can’t hide it.”

She held still as she scrutinized him. Suddenly she wrenched away and staggered back. The illusion fell from her eyes, turning them white. “No.” It was a broken sound, one that Margaret had never imagined hearing from Ellyn. The woman was too certain, too controlled. “No. I
can’t
be Jutras.”

“That’s right,” Margaret said briskly. “You can’t be. You hate them. So does Keros. You’ve been changed, but you get to choose how you will use that change. And right now, with
sylveth
majick weakening, the blood majick may just save us all.”

Ellyn looked dazed. “You can’t possibly trust us now.”

“I can.”

“Your brothers would disagree,” Nicholas said, looking shaken.

“Undoubtedly.” Margaret lifted her chin, staring at him. “Do you?”

A thin smile turned his lips. “I’ve always put my faith in my family and friends. I see no reason to stop now.”

She was surprised at the relief she felt. She wanted his backing more than she knew. “We’re friends, then? And allies?”

He nodded. “For now.”

Her brows went up, but he said no more. Her throat knotted.
For now.
What did that mean? As long as the crisis lasted? And then what? She didn’t want to know the answer to that question. “I’ll take that,” she said.

“You’ve got no choice,” Keros murmured. She glanced at him sharply and he shrugged. “No point in pretending otherwise,” he said.

“None at all,” she said. And then she told them the rest, leaving nothing out, laying out secrets that her family had killed to protect. Keros chimed in with an explanation of what had happened when he fought the Jutras. By the time she was done, she was shaking and wishing for a stiff drink. How could she do this? Uprooting the hoskarna—Keros was confident he and Ellyn could manage to do that. But what if there were more of them hidden somewhere on Crosspointe? And how were the four of them going to stop Forcan and who knew how many mad majicars?

“What do you plan to do?” Ellyn asked.

“Take out the hoskarna first,” Margaret said. “Before the Jutras gods dig too deeply into Crosspointe.”

“How do you propose to do that?” Nicholas asked.

She looked at Keros. “By mixing blood and
sylveth
majicks,” he said. “The same way I broke the Jutras spell and killed the priest.”

Ellyn suddenly thrust to her feet and stormed out of the camp.

Keros stood. “I’ll talk to her.” He looked down at Margaret. “You should get some sleep. We’ll tackle the hoskarna at first light.” With that, he went after Ellyn.

Margaret felt like a wrung-out rag. She took a sip from her water flask. She started when Nicholas stood and set more wood on the fire. He hesitated, then sat down beside her.

“He’s right. You should rest.”

She shrugged. She was exhausted, but sleeping meant dreaming and she was certain she’d have nightmares. She wasn’t in a hurry to experience those. “Where’s Carston? Was he all right?”

“Scared, but unharmed. I left him with Cora at a goat farmer’s cottage. They’ll be safe there.”

“Cora?” she asked in surprise.

He nodded. “From the inn.”

“That was kind of you.”

“It would have been kinder if Geoffrey had never been in a position to put her in chains,” he said heavily.

There was nothing to say to that.

“I want you to know you can rely on me. My resources are at your disposal. I won’t let you down.”

She glanced at him. His gaze was steady, his expression stern. “I know,” she said. And was surprised to find that it was true. “For as long as we’re friends,” she added with a wry quirk of her mouth.

He reached out and took her hand. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it with a little grimace. “Come on. Sleep. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

He sat back against the boulder and pulled her against his chest. She stiffened, then relaxed and closed her eyes, trusting he would be as good as his word.

Ellyn didn’t go far. She stopped on the edge of the Jutras spell circle. It was ash now, but Keros no more wanted to tramp on it again than she did. A flicker of gold light gleamed here and there on the hoskarna, reminding anyone who looked that the Jutras gods had arrived. Or perhaps it was only he and Ellyn with their changed perceptions that could see the gleams and the glimmers of gold dancing like fireflies.

Her arms were crossed over her stomach and her face was drawn. It was the first real emotion aside from anger that he’d seen from her since meeting in the carriage a sennight ago. A glisten of tears tracked down her cheek.

“I’m a monster.”

“No. They have only changed you. The same way the
sylveth
did.”

She whirled. “It is not the same!”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. The Gerent did this to save Azaire—to have a weapon against the Jutras. Now I’m one of
them
.”

He shook his head. “And the Jutras gods remade you to make you a weapon for their side. What did they do that was worse than what the Gerent did? Neither gave us a choice; neither cares what we think or what will become of us. Don’t try to argue that the Gerent is better. He’s just as bad, or worse. At least the Jutras inflicted this on their enemies and they make no bones about the way they conquer—they force the people they overrun to help them or they kill them. The Gerent used his own people and gave us no choice in the matter. He used us like cattle.”

His mouth pinched shut on his fury. They were old wounds and they didn’t matter. Ellyn stared at him, her expression mulish. She wasn’t going to change her mind. She couldn’t without loathing everything she’d become.

He drew a breath and let it out, trying to speak calmly. “But here is the thing you are forgetting—just because they made you, doesn’t mean that they own you. You can choose what you will be and who you will serve. I did the first time and I’m sure as the black depths not going to start serving the Jutras now.”

Her chin trembled and she firmed it. “The Gerent will never accept me. Not tainted like this.”

“Margaret will. Crosspointe will.”

She snorted. “This is not my land.
I
want to go home.”

“So go. Explain what has happened. You don’t think that the Jutras gods will stop here? They’ll infect Azaire and everywhere else. Azaire will need you. The Gerent will see that.”

“But he’ll never trust me again.”

Keros shrugged. It wasn’t much of a loss as far as he could tell, but it clearly pained her deeply. “You’ll prove yourself.”

She nodded without any conviction and turned back to look at the hoskarna. She wiped at her cheeks with one hand. “Can we really resist the call of the Jutras gods?” she whispered.