Touch of Iron (The Living Blade #1) (26 page)

Their eyes met. She could feel the regular rise and fall of his chest through the sword. The blade between them made them stand apart. They had been closer before, much closer than this. She blushed, remembering the feel of his body next to hers every night on the Plains. The icy wind swept through the courtyard and her skin crawled with goose bumps, though she could swear she saw his heat make the cold air around him steam. Her hand rested on the sword’s iron boss, ready to shove the blade with force through the leather and into his heart.

“Don’t,” Diaz said.

“Don’t what?”

Nora’s heart beat so hard she thought it would spring from her chest. She was breathless, but not from exertion.

“Don’t think of fighting me for real.”

Nora cocked her head. “That would be very stupid. Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know. But I know when I’m being sized up.”

Nora laughed through her nose. “I wasn’t sizing you up.”

“Then what?”

Diaz was taller than her. If he held out an arm straight from his body, she could probably walk under it without the top of her head brushing against him. So every time they talked, she had to look up to his face. Those pure black eyes. So unlike a human’s. People said the eyes were a door to the soul. What that meant for Diaz and his kind, Nora didn’t know. She gazed back, trying to find an answer to his question. The silence rang with all kinds of things she could say, but in truth, she was simply content to share this moment with him. Hearing their breathing among the steady rush of hail was enough. It filled her with calm, and that was…unsettling. The Nora reflected in his black eyes didn’t have an answer, either. Hair wild and unkempt by the wind and rain, eyes wide and fierce, she used him as a mirror and didn’t know whether she liked what she saw, whether he liked what he saw. She let the sword sink down and opened her mouth to say something when they heard a cry for help.

D
iaz was sprinting across the
courtyard toward the stairs before Nora even realized he had swept his sword out of her hands. Another cry rang out through the din of the clicking hail, and Nora followed Diaz to the brink of the stairs. Looking down, she saw the boys she had met on the road to the temple. What were their names again? The youngest was the smartest. Larris! That was his name. But the other two? Larris and his friend were struggling to keep their larger friend in the middle upright. It was the sullen boy with the crap sword. His head hung limp and he was clutching his belly. Nora saw a lot of dark blood washed down his front.

Diaz reached them first and placed one of the wounded boy’s arms around his neck. Larris blanched when he saw the wight’s face. Diaz looked up and saw Nora at the edge of the stairs.

“Go and get Talitha!”

She ran into the temple, calling for Master Cumi at the top of her lungs. Where would she be at this time? Nora took a deep breath and headed toward the kitchens, but Master Cumi had obviously heard her yelling and came toward her at a measured pace, gathering her billowing robes high.

“Finally stabbed Telen?” The older woman flashed a grin at Nora.

“No!”

“Pity.” Cumi smiled.

“Someone else is hurt.” Nora panted breathlessly. “Wound to the stomach. Looks pretty bad.”

Master Cumi nodded. Her lips were pressed together tightly. As they entered the foyer, they saw Diaz come in the front door with the boys, and Master Cumi ushered them all into the dining hall. It was empty. Dinner wasn’t for another three hours.

“Here!” Master Cumi pointed at the floor before the large fireplace, and Diaz laid the boy carefully down in front of the glowing embers.

It was strangely silent in the large room. Nora stood back with the other two youths as the masters bent over the large boy in their middle, Talitha checking for a pulse while Diaz cut the wet shirt open to reveal a white belly covered in dark red blood.

The silent youth put his arm around Larris’s shoulder as if holding the thin boy up. Nora glanced between him and the large boy bleeding on the floor. Were they related? Brothers? She had forgotten to ask back when they had met on the road. They didn’t look all that similar, but the way Larris was wringing his hands and biting his lower lip seemed to indicate some greater attachment. Then it hit. Nora’s perception shifted and she could see it so clearly, as if the sun had shone down in an illuminating ray through the high, slanted windows.

Larris wasn’t the boy’s brother. In fact, Larris wasn’t even a boy. The shoulder line, the baggy shirt about the chest, the hips and legs, the small feet. Then the face: it was gaunt and filled with worry, but as free of the wisp of a beard as Nora’s was. For a moment, Nora felt envy. Of course! How could she have been so stupid? Passing as a boy would have made everything so much easier. Cutting off her long hair hadn’t even occurred to her—but it was just hair. It could grow back. Larris—or whatever her real name was—had been smart, and that made Nora feel dumb.

“I know you!” Larris said suddenly.

“Yeah.” Nora nodded.

“Did you find your brother?”

“He’s safe. Here.”

Larris nodded.

The youths stood and watched Master Cumi bend over the pale-lipped boy. She wiped away the blood from the wound, felt for a pulse at his wrist, watched his ragged breathing. Then the two masters shared a look.

“What is it?” Larris’s voice was the pitch of a girl’s, too. Though maybe it was just the hysteria. “He’ll be all right, won’t he?”

“There’s a lot of damage,” Master Cumi said. She laid a hand over the wound. “He’s lost too much blood. Inside.”

“But you can help him?” Larris’s voice broke. She looked as though she were going to cry.

Master Cumi took a deep breath and nodded at Diaz. “Lay him on the table. Nora, get me a deep bowl and put it under the table.”

“Do you need it filled with water?” Nora asked, sweeping the cloth from the table as Diaz heaved the body up again.

“No, I just don’t want all of the blood on the floor.” Master Cumi pressed her hand down onto the wound, and the boy groaned weakly.

Nora emptied a large earthenware bowl of apples onto the heap of tablecloth. She placed the bowl on the floor at the masters’ feet. Diaz vaulted over the table and stood on the other side. He held the boy’s shoulders down.

“Ready.” His rasp sounded harsh.

Master Cumi nodded. Her brow crunched together. The hand she had pressed onto the wound was covered in blood. She lifted it and rolled her wrist in an elegant motion. Blood poured out of the wound toward the tabletop and floor, but it also rose toward the outstretched hand in a dark red stream, like a fountain. The older woman made another motion, as if tugging wool with a spindle. The blood gathered into a scarlet swirl by Cumi’s side, and a few drops spattered into the large bowl at Master Cumi’s feet. Nora gasped and stepped back from the table.

There was a loud shriek behind her.

“It’s sorcery. Blood magic. She’s a witch!” Larris yelled. “A blood witch from beyond the Divide! Get off him! Get off him, I say!”

Nora turned. Larris was fighting against the silent boy’s arm, screaming abuse, and spit was frothing on her lips.

“Did you know?” Larris screamed at Nora. “You knew. You liar, you said it was safe here. You said it was safe, and there’s a wight and a witch!”

Nora held up her hands and tried to calmly reason with Larris.

“They’re trying to help. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The girl heard nothing of it under the torrent of accusations. Nora threw a look at the silent boy who struggled with Larris. He shook his head and helplessly shrugged. With a glance back to the table, Nora caught Diaz’s stare. He raised his eyebrows at her, then at Larris. Nora looked back at the girl. The yelling was attracting attention already; some of the Hunted Company clustered at the doors to the dining hall. The last thing Larris needed was Prince Bashan’s sharp tongue.

Nora slapped Larris across the cheek. Silence rang in her ears.

“Shut up! Your screaming is not helping!” Nora pointed at the table. “Yes, he’s a wight, or well, half a one. And she might be a blood witch. But even if she was suckled by the Queen of the Grave Herself, she’s trying to help your friend stay alive. You said you look out for one another? Then shut up. And let them help him if they can.”

There was a red mark on Larris’s cheek. Tears ran down her face and her lower lip trembled, but she remained silent. Nora turned to the spectators at the door. She pointed at random into the small crowd.

“You and you, find Calla and bring her here. We’ll need bandages, too. You, get clean water from the kitchens and don’t you dare spill it! What are you waiting for? Go! Now!”

Nora took a deep breath and stepped closer to the table.

“Anything else?” she asked in an undertone.

A faint smile lay on Master Cumi’s lips. She waved a hand in a complicated swirl. The blood orb next to her spun gently. It looked ghastly. Nora shuddered.

“More information would be nice. What happened?” Cumi cocked her head at Nora for a moment. “Think you can find that out?”

“I think she’s scared and confused right now. But I’ll try.”

“She?”

“She.”

Larris’s face dug into the shoulder of her companion, and the girl’s own shoulders heaved with sobs. Nora guided them down the hall to a bench. She wished she had sent someone to get tea or something else warm. The three of them were still dripping wet from the hailstorm outside.

“I know you’re a girl,” Nora said to Larris.

“So?”

“So I think you’re clever. Can you tell me what happened to your friend?”

Larris cuffed the tears from her eyes with her dripping sleeve. She and her silent friend exchanged a look that made Larris seem more miserable.

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. A flicker of anger passed over her face as she squinted up at Nora. “And I don’t know if I want to tell you. You slapped me. And you have some strange company here.”

“I’m sorry I slapped you.” Nora waited. Larris held up for a moment. Then her shoulders sagged.

“Fine. We were outside of the courtyards, in the woods.”

She stared at Nora, daring her to interrupt.

“And?”

“We’ve been out poaching. Other men do it, too.”

Nora smirked.
Men, ha!

“Yeah, I know. Carry on.”

“We found him in a bear trap, or something like it.”

“A bear trap?” Nora repeated.

“We wanted a roast for Solstice, you know? I went with Bow. Brenn went alone. He had his sword.” A dry sob escaped her lips. “We should’ve gone together. All three of us, I mean. Bow’s got a condition. Been that way since birth. He can’t talk. Got no voice. So one of us always goes with him. He can’t shout out, see.”

Bow opened his mouth, and Nora peered in despite herself. Two teeth were missing, as was half of his tongue. There was only a withered, fleshy flap curled at the back. Nora winced. Not being able to speak was one thing. How did he eat? The boy closed his mouth and grinned at her. Larris stared over to where Master Cumi was healing Brenn.

“And you found your…other friend in a bear trap?” Nora prompted her.

“Yeah, something like a bear trap.” Larris looked up. “Hung on a spike right through his belly. We tried to lift him up, but then there was all this blood everywhere.”

“On a spike?” The hairs on Nora’s arms rose, but not from the chill of her wet clothing.

“And Brenn wasn’t the only one in it. There were others. Women, too.” Larris winced.

“You couldn’t help them out, could you?”

“No point. They were dead. They were all dead.”

“Think they fell in?” Nora asked, but she already knew the answer.

Larris turned her eyes to Nora.

“No. Last thing Brenn said was the man shoved him.”

T
he boy Brenn didn’t survive
the night. He was buried the next morning in the burial grounds for pilgrims below the temple. Nora watched as Master Cumi spoke the ritual words tight-faced, while Larris sobbed in the background. Diaz took her and Bow out with a number of men, and they scoured the surrounding forests the entire day. They found the death pit Larris had described, but never any signs of the man Brenn had mentioned nor of the people who had built it. Cumi worked in the lower courtyards all day. The festive decorations for Solstice were overhung by the shadow of death, and a smell of fear mixed with the scent of spices in the air. The large outer gates of the walls had been closed for the night. The news had spread like gangrene. Only the children ran wild as ever, unheeding of their mothers’ calls, eyes bright with excitement at the celebration.