Renn shrugged. “You’re the King’s Champion. And at least you’re not leaving me on my own. Alvior was none too popular in the village. I would be surprised if we couldn’t round up a militia if we put out the word that he might be back. Folks out here aren’t sophisticated, but they’re loyal to the king. And they don’t like strangers.”
“When Donelan hears about it, he might send a regiment or two to back you up. I’m starting to wonder what
else is going on, and whether this is bigger than just Alvior.” Cam rubbed the stump of his severed finger, the one he lost to the Divisionists. “When I was captured by the Divisionists, Ruggs and Leather John said Alvior had been paying their bills. But Alvior didn’t have the money to build a navy. So my question is… Whose navy is it? I’d like to know that.”
“Before we fight them,” added Lange.
A
idane drifted in and out of consciousness, waiting to die.
Suddenly, the doors to the chamber slammed open. Aidane’s heart began to pound. Whatever her captors planned for her, it would not be an easy or painless death. Battered as she was, Aidane was aware enough to feel fear.
“Get the cages open. Take everyone. We’ll sort it out later.” The speaker was a tall man with straw-blond hair and blue eyes. Half a dozen men swarmed into the chamber, and with them was another man in brown robes. The robed man’s hood fell back. He was from Nargi and, by the rune necklace at his throat, a mage.
“Stand back from the doors, if you’re able,” the leader warned. Green light flared from the mage’s hands. The metal cages glowed for a moment, and then the bars became a dull gray and the cage doors swung open of their own accord.
The men began to heft the injured prisoners into their arms. Others helped the prisoners who could stand get to
their feet. One of the men stood in the doorway to Aidane’s cell.
“We’ve got a problem.”
The man who seemed to be the leader came to stand beside him. “Mortal?”
The other man nodded. “Well?”
Aidane could barely turn toward the two men, even though she knew they debated her fate. Stay or leave, it would be over soon, whether or not the black-robed Durim returned. It was like a coin toss with no winner. King’s head, die now. King’s crest, die later.
“Bring her.”
Aidane could not bite back a moan as one of the men wrapped her in a cloak and gathered her into his arms, although she supposed he was being gentle. They seemed to fly up the stairs and into the cool night air. They were flying, just at treetop level. Aidane supposed it was the kind of vision the dying are said to see. If so, it calmed her. She had often wondered what the world looked like to the birds, to the sparrows and the crows that could fly away from Nargi and its problems, creatures of the air. On the ground beneath them, Aidane glimpsed men moving quickly, dragging bodies. She managed a thin smile. She was still dying, but the Black Robes had died first. Perhaps the Goddess did have a sense of humor, albeit bleak.
Aidane lost track of time. The sense of flying was peaceful, and if it turned out that her rescuer carried her spirit across the Gray Sea, well, so be it. She hadn’t counted on long life. The late summer’s night was cool, and Aidane could hear the chirps and croaks of night creatures. Finally, they slowed and then seemed to hover. Her rescuer landed gently, carrying her as if she were
weightless. Even on the ground, the man who carried her moved with unnatural grace. Or perhaps, Aidane thought, the shock of her wounds just deadened the pain from his movements.
One of the other men gestured from the doorway for them to hurry. They entered the ruins of an old barn, then went down a set of stairs carved into the rock beneath and through a winding passage.
“Set her down.” The command came from the blond man. Aidane struggled to focus her eyes. His looks were average. He had a thin build, and now that she got a good look at him, Aidane could see that he was quite pale.
He’s not from Nargi
, she thought.
But he just might be
vayash moru. The leader’s blond hair was caught back in a queue, but even with it hidden, he couldn’t have passed by day as a Nargi, although Aidane realized that the man was speaking Nargi without an accent. Then she met his eyes, and her vision seemed to swim. In his place, she saw a shorter man, with the dark hair and features of a Nargi native. She blinked and the vision was gone. She’d heard that
vayash moru
could hide themselves in plain sight to mortals who could not resist their glamour. Now, she understood.
“Who are you?” The man looked at her, and Aidane knew he was deciding her fate.
“Someone with really bad luck.” Aidane’s words were slurred through her swollen lips.
To her surprise, the blond man laughed. He glanced over to the far side of the room and waved for a short, squat man to join them. “Varren is a healer. Let’s see if he can earn his keep.”
Varren looked up to the blond man for direction. “Put her right, if you can,” the blond man said. “If you can’t,
end her pain. We can’t stay here long, and we’ve got a long road ahead.”
As Varren inspected her wounds, Aidane tried to keep her eyes focused well enough to look around. Varren looked to be the only mortal, other than herself, among the group. Even the mage looked to be
vayash moru
.
The chamber was smoky and torchlit, like the tunnels beneath the city. It smelled of soot and sweat and old blood. The wounded
vayash moru
and
vyrkin
Aidane had seen in the cells were being tended, and all looked to be healing faster than she could hope to. The
vayash moru
who had a stake through his heart gave a cry as one of the others pulled the stake free, but to Aidane’s surprise, the wounded man staggered to his feet moments later, looking shaky but functional.
Varren was muttering to himself as he made note of the gashes and broken bones, but he said nothing directly to Aidane. As she watched, the man who had carried her hurried over from where he had been talking with several other
vayash moru
to find the leader.
“You’re healing her?” He gave a jerk of his head toward Aidane.
“I want to know her story, Zhan. Why was a mortal in one of their cells? There might be more to her than we know.”
It was obvious that her rescuer, Zhan, did not share the leader’s opinion. “She was there to be a sacrifice. Fresh, human blood. She’ll slow us down. She can’t heal like the others. We can’t afford to get caught.”
The leader’s face hardened. “It’s my mission. I decide.”
Zhan took a step back and made a slight, stiff bow. “My apologies. Of course.”
When Varren finally completed his examination, the leader appeared beside him, although Aidane hadn’t seen the
vayash moru
move. “Well?”
Varren shrugged. “Whoever beat her up meant to kill her, but fortunately, he wasn’t very good at it. Broken bones, punctured lung, blood loss. She’ll probably lose a couple of teeth. She’s a stubborn thing, or she’d be dead by now. And she’s tougher than she looks.”
“How long until we can move?”
“A candlemark. I’ve already healed the lung, and I’ve set the bones to healing, although it’ll take some time. There’s some internal bleeding from the bruises. I’d say whoever hurt her did most of his damage with his boots. That’s what takes a little longer to put right.”
“Understood. I just want to get her across the river.”
“Aye. Let me get to work.”
Varren turned his attention back to Aidane, and this time, he met her eyes. “I know you heard all that. So I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to stop the pain, and you’re going to use whatever magic you have to speed the healing. I know what you are. Open yourself to the ghosts and let them fill you. It won’t hurt as much, and the energy will help you heal. I’ll make sure no one overstays his welcome. Trust me.”
Aidane could only nod. It was taking too much energy to keep up her shielding against the ghosts. They had found her, and once again, they clustered around her. Varren lifted Aidane’s head and dropped a bitter liquid into her mouth. She swallowed, and she felt the elixir burn down her throat. Almost immediately, warmth radiated through her body, blunting the pain. She relaxed, and the ghosts rushed in. Aidane gave herself up to Varren and the ghosts, beyond caring whether she lived or died.
• • •
She awoke in darkness. The stale smell of the caves was gone. Instead, Aidane smelled the loam and leaves of a forest. A light rain was falling. She shivered. “Be still. Stay quiet.” It was the voice of her rescuer, Zhan, the Nargi
vayash moru
.
“Where are we?” Aidane whispered.
“Nearly to the river. There’s a patrol ahead.”
Surely the
vayash moru
could fight a mortal patrol, Aidane thought. Then again, leaving a trail of bodies would make it that much harder for them to return to free others, and by the looks of the group, they weren’t new at their game.
Before Aidane could reply, Zhan was slammed backward as a dark figure sprang from the shadows. “Captain! Captain! We’ve got runners! Over here!”
Zhan sprang toward his attacker with a growl, eyeteeth bared. Four more attackers seemed to appear from nowhere, and in the dim light, Aidane realized their betrayal. The attackers were
vayash moru
.
Aidane scrambled out of the way, amazed her body had healed enough to permit her to move. Whether it was the healing elixir, Varren’s magic, or sheer self-preservation, Aidane found that she could stand on her own, and she pressed back into the shadow of a huge oak, although she knew that its canopy could not hide her from undead attackers.
Across the clearing, she could hear the
vayash moru
leader swearing fluently in several languages. Swords clanged and blades swished through the air, moving fast enough to be just a blur in the moonlight. Not too far distant, Aidane heard the pounding of feet as the mortals, alerted by the traitors, came running.
They’d been betrayed by
vayash moru
, but not by any of those who had rescued her. No, these
vayash moru
were newcomers, and by the way the fight was going, their betrayers weren’t doing well at holding their own.
Just then, an arrow slammed into the trunk of the tree beside her, narrowly missing her shoulder. Aidane bit back a cry of surprise and ducked, running for new cover. More arrows flew, and one of her
vayash moru
rescuers fell as the shaft took him through the heart. He crumbled to dust before he reached the ground.
“
Rethniris
,” the
vayash moru
leader snarled, bearing down on one of their attackers with a two-handed sword press that would have felled a mortal just in its savage strength. Aidane had heard the term. It meant “blood traitor,” someone who betrayed their essence. And from the look on the
vayash moru
leader’s face, he held it to be a killing offense.
All around her, swords clanged and arrows flew. Only eight
vayash moru
had been part of the rescue team, counting the healer. Three had fallen in the attack. Of the four
vayash moru
traitors, only one was standing, and as Aidane watched, the
vayash moru
leader disarmed his opponent and went for the kill barehanded, tearing the traitor’s head from his body and throwing it with deadly accuracy at the nearest archer.
I can help.
It was a ghost’s voice, and in her mind, Aidane could see the spirit clearly. She was a beautiful Nargi woman with dark, straight hair and luminous eyes.
How?
The soldiers got lucky. They weren’t looking for you. They’re posted at the village near here. That’s where I died. Where we all did.
There were several ghosts now, all young women.
We were married or betrothed to those beasts, and they killed us for our dowries or in their drunken rage. Give us our vengeance. Let us fill you, and we’ll call them to their deaths. We’ll lend you our strength.
Aidane hesitated, just a moment.
Or do you want to be captured again?
the first ghost asked.
Take me.
Aidane stiffened and arched as the first ghost filled her. It was rougher than usual, but Aidane opened herself without reservation. She saw the ghost’s memories of a thick-set Nargi soldier, a captain, and as the ghost filled her, Aidane remembered the spirit’s death at her lover’s hands as if it were her own. Aidane drew a deep breath and smoothed her hands down over her body, as if the ghost were reassuring itself that it had form.
Let’s get them.
Aidane took a step forward, yielding her will to the ghost. The
vayash moru
leader looked at her in alarm. “What the hell are you doing? Get back!”
Aidane kept going. “Varn! You worthless son of a cheap whore! You murdered me for my father’s money. Come here, I’ve got a little something for you.” Aidane felt the ghost controlling her movements, and she let herself sashay into the dim moonlight that filtered through the trees. “Varn! You bastard son of a goat! Dung eater! Show yourself.” Aidane’s movements were both seductive and threatening, and she knew that the ghost’s possession was so complete that even her facial expressions were not her own.
“Sathrie? Sathrie? Is that you? But you’re dead—”
The mortal captain stood transfixed, staring at the
shadow that had become his murdered lover. A moment’s hesitation was all it took for one of the
vayash moru
to send a sword scything toward the captain at shoulder height, taking his head clean from his shoulders. Blood was still pumping from the stump of his neck as his body collapsed to the ground.