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Authors: Holly Lisle

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Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts) (14 page)

BOOK: Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts)
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They shared their dreams. They affected each other in ways she couldn’t understand. She wanted him.
And her Family was gone. From what she’d learned, so was most of his. Perhaps that meant that the battle between the Sabirs and the Galweighs could end.
“I’ll . . . I’ll think about what you’ve said.” She smoothed the tunic. “I’ll promise nothing, except that I’ll . . . consider . . .” She tested the word, and found that it offered only as much as she wished to offer. “Yes. I’ll consider . . . a truce.” She turned before he could say anything in response and hurried toward their quarters. Halfway there, she turned back, and saw that he still stared out at the endless, hypnotic sea. “I think . . . I’d like to talk.”

 

Chapter
14
T
he Mirror has almost reached us,
Dafril said.
But my chosen avatar has been led to direct it toward the south—toward the cold lands. Solander has called it to him there.
Only the heads of the Star Council gathered in the cold infinity beyond the Veil—Dafril hadn’t wanted to deal with the panic that would ensue with the younger members if they realized Solander had returned.
We’ve already taken steps to deal with the Mirror,
Mellayne said.
It
will
reach Calimekka.
Yes. Unfortunately, Solander won’t be so easy to take care of. He nears the time of his birth, and he has already started gathering his Falcons together.
But if Solander returns in the body of a babe—memories or not—we’ll have years before he can stand against us.
Dafril sighed. Solander had nearly destroyed them once. He couldn’t believe the bastard found a way to get himself embodied without having his memories scrambled yet had failed to take into account the time it would take for that body to reach usable age.
We cannot count on that. I have to suspect that Solander has a plan. He always knew what he was doing.
I wish we did.
So do I, Mellayne,
Dafril said.
So do I.

 

Chapter
15
K
ait woke to darkness, to the sound of Ry’s steady breathing in the bunk beneath hers and to his scent in the room. Shreds of the nightmare that had awakened her still clung to her, twisting in her gut.
She’d been dancing with Ry. That same maddening, tempting, passionate dance—the embraces, the kisses, the touching. And then someone else had been there with them, watching. Waiting.
She sat up, not soothed by the steady rocking of the ship, or the rhythmic creaks and murmurs of boards and sails. “Ry?”
He was already awake—had, in fact, awakened just an instant after she did. After she left the dream, she realized. She heard his breathing catch, and smelled wariness about him . . . and anticipation. “Yes?”
“Someone is hunting for you. Wanting to kill you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“We were being watched. In the dream. In the dance. The watcher was . . . malevolent.”
“I felt nothing of the sort.”
“He was shielded from you, but some sort of current runs between the two of you—either a blood tie or something magical. I could see the current. A tiny black stream. I followed it back to its source, and when I did, I saw his eyes looking out at you through the darkness. I don’t . . . I’m not sure, but I don’t think he knew I was there. He wasn’t shielded from me.”
Ry was silent for a moment. “What could you tell of him?”
“That he hates you. That he wants to see you dead. That he’s waiting for you to move within his reach.”
“Sounds like Ian,” Ry said, and chuckled.
“But it wasn’t.” Kait had actually considered that. “The stream that binds the two of you—it runs back to Calimekka.”
“It can’t.” She heard Ry moving in the bunk below, and an instant later, his head and shoulders popped up at the side of her bunk. “Everyone who has reason to want me dead in Calimekka already thinks I am.” Except the Trinity, of course, he thought. But surely they had been executed already for murdering him. He told her about how he had faked his own murder and the disappearance of his body.
“Someone knows,” she said when he finished. “Someone knows, Ry.” She wondered if the one watching Ry was the same one who had nearly caught her and Hasmal when they communed with the Reborn. That the one who hunted Ry also hunted the Mirror seemed at least possible. She couldn’t say anything to Ry about that, though.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. “That would be . . . Brethwan’s soul! That would be a disaster. Because if someone knows of my survival, he could know I left by sea. We were careful, but we assumed no one would look for us. Someone who was looking would discover that I left with my friends. My enemies would pay for that information. Hells-all—my
mother
would pay for that information. She thinks my friends died in service to the Sabirs. Their families have been honored because of their sacrifices.”
“Your mother honors your friends’ families? The woman who would declare you
barzanne
?”
“If she knows I’m alive, then I’m already
barzanne
. And my friends’ families . . . are doomed.” He looked at Kait with haunted eyes. “This dream of yours—it had to be just a dream.”
Kait couldn’t manage much of a smile. “Our spirits dance while we sleep, Ry. Is that a dream?”
He didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to. The stricken expression on his face told her more than she wanted to know.
“So what are you going to tell them?”
He winced. Thought a moment. “Nothing. Even if what you dreamed is true, we can’t do anything to protect the people we left behind in Calimekka. But if I tell them, I could cause my friends endless unresolvable fear, and I could chance them throwing their own lives away.”
“How so?”
“We’ll pass close to Calimekka on the run toward Glaswherry Hala. We’ll sail through the Thousand Dancers, turn south just off the point of Goft, and follow the coast down. They might jump ship in Goft to get home; if they reach Calimekka, they’ll be executed for sure.”
Kait considered that. She had once held some hope of seeing her own dead relatives again; now she knew that would never happen. Her beloved family was dead, all of them lost to her as surely as they would have been to anyone else. Their souls had already crossed through the Veil, their bodies fed the earth, and she would never see them again in this life. That was the hard truth.
She said, “I hope for their sakes that whoever pursues you knows nothing of them.”
Ry nodded. He dropped into his own bunk again, and she heard him adjusting his covers. He said nothing for so long that she thought he wouldn’t say anything else, and she let herself drift toward the hazy borders of sleep. So when he did speak, it surprised her.
“I owe them my life several times over,” he said. “I
owe
them the safety of their families. If I’ve betrayed them, even unknowingly—if I’ve cost them the people I promised I kept safe . . . how then do I pay them what I owe?”

 

Chapter
16
L
ong weeks passed, and storms followed fair days, and winter winds filled the sails, but little changed aboard the
Wind Treasure
. Kait had not yet found the words to say to Ian, and since he avoided her, even refusing to look at her, she let herself accept his distance.
Nor had she made peace with her close proximity to Ry. She had hoped at the beginning of the voyage home that she would become used to his presence, and that familiarity would breed, if not contempt, at least indifference. But her desire for him only grew stronger with every passing day, and the effort she had to put into maintaining magical shields to buffer his effect on her doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled. She’d spent two full Shifts hiding out in the bilge, subsisting on rats; she had made Hasmal lock her in because she knew that, in Ry’s presence and in Karnee form, she would not have the self-control to avoid him. She became thin, then gaunt, and her eyes hollowed and shadowed until the image that looked back at her in the cabin’s brass mirror might have been Jayti’s specter.
Finally Hasmal said, “You can’t live like this any longer.” He was sitting on his bunk, restitching the seams in his boots. “You’re killing yourself fighting against him this hard.”
But she shrugged. “We’re almost to Ibera. We’ll leave the ship with the Mirror before it makes landfall, and I’ll never see him again. Once I’m away from him, I’ll be better.”
His fingers looped the gut cord around themselves skillfully, worked the needle through the holes where the old seams had been, and tugged firmly, and the cord disappeared into the boot like a snake down a rat hole. “I wish I knew that were true. But I don’t think distance will have any effect on this thing between the two of you. It’s magic, Kait. Part of a spell that is bigger than both of you, and as powerful as any spell I’ve ever seen. And it’s growing stronger. I noticed the first edges of the spell even before he . . . ah, before he
rescued
us. For lack of a better word. Now it binds the two of you together like a rope—visible to magic-sight, and so thick and strong that there are moments when I imagine I can see it with my eyes.”
“Ropes can be cut.”
“So can arteries, but you die when you sever them. This seems to me to be something that will kill you before it lets you go.”
“No one lives forever. I have my Family to remember,” she said quietly. “Ry admitted to having a part in their destruction, though he claims to have only been a messenger. I don’t entirely believe him, and even if I did, how will I explain to their spirits that I have chosen
him
as my lifemate? How could I so dishonor my dead as to love a Sabir?”
Hasmal shrugged. “Life is for the living,” he said. “The dead made their choices and had their say while they still lived. Once they’re dead, both their tongues and their edicts fall silent.”
She glanced at him and raised her eyebrows. “That isn’t what Iberism teaches.”
“Pah! Iberism is a government religion created by those already in power—men who intended to have the gods keep them in power. Of course it’s going to support the idea that your dead ancestors have a say in your actions. What better way to stifle change and command the future from the grave?”
The breathtaking sweep of his heresy left her speechless for a moment. Then she hid her face in her hands and tried to muffle the laugh that burst from her. “You’re right,” she said when she had herself under control. “Godsall, but you’re right. My Family used Iberism as a tool, and the parnissas as their spokesmen. The Sabirs, the Masschankas, the Dokteeraks, and the Kairns all did the same. No matter how much we hated each other, we all worked through Iberism—and the gods spoke in favor of the Families time and time and time again. Though you could be beaten in Punishment Square for saying such a thing.”
The tight smile he gave her and the fleeting, pained expression that crossed his face—an expression he hid quickly—made her wonder what truth she had inadvertently uncovered, but he didn’t give her the chance to ask him any questions. He said, “Right. So if you know the truth, face it. Apply it to your life. Don’t kill yourself over what the dead will think. I can’t say that I have any great love for Ry, but the two of you were made for each other. Truly.”
Kait rested a hand on his chest and leaned forward to peer into his eyes. “Matchmaking? You? So a heart does beat inside that armored breast after all. I’d thought you immune to the pull of passion.”
He smiled. “Why? Because I didn’t fall for you?”
“Perhaps. Most people do.” She shrugged. “The Karnee Curse pulls them all to me, you know.”
“I do know. I see the effect you have on the men aboard the ship. I saw what you did to the crew of the
Peregrine,
too. And Ry shares with you the same sort of all-encompassing appeal—his friends will be his friends forever, and women will flock around him like gulls around a fisherman’s catch.” He smiled. “I’ve often wondered what that would be like—to be able to have any woman just for the asking.”
“When you know it isn’t
you
they desire, the appeal dies quickly enough.”
“I suppose you’re right. Though, if someone offered me the chance to find out, I’m not sure I’d be man enough to refuse. Anyway, your curse doesn’t affect me. My shields make me immune . . . which is why you and I can be such good friends. You don’t compel me”—he paused and grinned impishly—“and you don’t attract me. You aren’t my sort. You’re too young, and too uncertain, and . . . please don’t take this wrong, but . . . too unfinished.”
Kait snorted. “Ouch. Unfinished? You wound me. But now I’m curious. What is your sort? I’ve imagined you losing your heart to some tiny, delicate girl with birdlike bones and a diffident manner.”
“Thank Vodor Imrish you aren’t in charge of picking out a mate for me. No. My taste has always run toward . . . ahhhh . . .
interesting
women. I met the one I could love forever when I was escaping from Halles . . . trying to get away from you. She . . . well, her people were the ones who bought me from the thieves who robbed me and were going to hang me. The Gyrus were going to sell me as a slave, but she came to see me. Like me, she was a Falcon. Gorgeous. Older than me by a few years. Long red hair. Fantastic legs, a strong, lean back. She . . . ah—” he blushed, and his voice went soft—“liked to bite. Damnall, but I’d give the world to be with her again.”
BOOK: Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts)
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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