World Weaver (The Devany Miller Series Book 4) (8 page)

“There are forty taverns on this map. I think if we hooked to each, we’d go faster than walking. Then we could stay together.” He smiled at me, his yellow eyes warm.

We hooked to the first tavern and it wasn’t the right one. “The place Bethy showed me had a wooden sign out front.”

“Wood isn’t commonly used.”

“Right.” I leaned into him, looking at the map. “Can it narrow down the taverns even more?”

He shook his head. “Let me ask around. There will be someone who knows.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” I gestured to my face.

He held up a finger and then disappeared into the nearest store. When he returned, he had a beautiful yellow scarf with delicate red flowers embroidered on it. He draped it over my head and pulled it across my face.

“Thank you. I think.” I already hated the smell of my own stale breath and I’d had it on for a second. “It’s not going to hide my magical aura.”

“Bayladdy is a place where people can disappear. Here, it’s considered rude to look at other people’s magical signatures. Hopefully, that will keep you unseen.”

And, I supposed, it was hard to put a picture of a magical aura on a poster. Only Council members would be searching me out that way. I hoped.

Kroshtuka did the asking, stopping folks walking by and chatting up storekeepers. We found out there were only three places in Bayladdy that had wooden signs. Two were on the docks, thumbing their noses at the sea air. The third was on the far western side of town, smack dab in the middle of a residential area. I wanted to hook there right away but Krosh stopped me. “She’ll have wards up. I’ll go scout it out and then we’ll make our plan.”

We were so close to my daughter and still I had to wait. It wasn’t fair. “Fine. Be careful. She knows about you, even if she doesn’t know what you look like.

“I have stalked a lot of prey in my life. I know how to see without being seen.”

Our mate,
Neutria said with satisfaction.

‘Mine,’ I snapped back.

Her amusement only served to annoy me.

***

Krosh and I got within two blocks of the tavern before he stopped and bought a meal for me at a nearby cafe. “Standing around will look suspicious to anyone watching. Eat something while you wait.”

I wasn’t hungry, but I picked at the food, my eyes constantly drifting back down the street in the direction Krosh had taken. My daughter was nearby. Near enough I almost felt her in my arms. I wanted so bad to hug her and kiss her and tell her it was all right.

How could Arsinua take her? How could she do that to me? I thought we were friends—we’d shared headspace, damn it.

A couple walked by and the magic oozing off the man caught my attention. A Skriven? They took a table across from me, the woman with her back to me. The air had thickened with the man’s aura until the petals on the flowers were trembling with it.

I opened my Magic Eye and his gaze fell hard on me. I shivered. Whatever he was, he wasn’t Skriven. Not completely. His aura looked as confused as mine must.

Was he another of Ravana’s experiments?

Before I had the chance to ask, magic thumped me hard in the chest. I fell back, gasping for air, tumbling into the table behind me. Iron rang on cobblestone as the table hit the ground. Someone nearby shouted in pain.

I couldn’t breathe.

I slammed a protection bubble over me and cut off the spell. The clench on my lungs eased and I sucked in oxygen.

“She is wanted by the Council!” a man shouted. “Do not help her or you will suffer the same fate.”

“I’ll take my chances,” a woman said. There was a meaty thump of fist on flesh and the distinctive sound of a body hitting pavement. I pushed myself to my feet, lightheaded. Every table in the small outdoor cafe was knocked over, tablecloths fluttering in the breeze. The guy with all the power was leaning against the building with a smile on his face, a look of affection for the woman standing between me and the guy who’d tried to kill me. “Get up,” she said, a smile in her voice.

He tried. As soon as he got his knees under him, though, she kicked him in the stomach. He oofed air and collapsed.

She squatted next to him, her elbows propped on her knees. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll start running and you won’t stop until you’re out of town. Do you know what’s good for you?”

He couldn’t talk; she’d knocked the wind out of him with that kick. He nodded, though, and staggered to his feet. For a second he thought about going for me again, then he caught my savior’s expression and ran.

“Thank you.”

She turned and quirked an eyebrow at me. “Now maybe you can tell me why you were eyeballing my man.”

“Uh. I wasn’t. Okay, I was, but not the way you mean. He was leaking magic all over the place. I wanted to see what he was.”

“And what do you think I am?” Although he was still leaning against the building, there was nothing casual about his stance. Tension radiated throughout his body.

“I’m not sure. Skriven. Witch? Wild magic for sure.” I realized I was describing myself and stopped. “What are you?”

“An assassin for the Great Seal.”

“Ex-assassin,” the woman added and smiled at him. When she did that, his face softened, his expression one of a man willing to die to protect the one he loved. “We’ve been looking for answers to his origins beyond myths and legends. Do you have any ideas?”

“I may. But I don’t know you two from a hole in the ground and I have enemies.” The Anforsa, for one, would love to know what I was, wouldn’t she? Maybe then she’d puzzle out how to get the better of me.

“As do I,” the man said.

The woman grunted. “Fine, then.” She held out her hand and I shook it. “I’m Zephyrinia, Sky Captain of the ship,
Lady Free
. This is Mal. Now we’re friends.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Zeph,” Mal said.

“It’s a start.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the witch who’d tried to strangle me with magic. “What was that all about?”

“I fixed the Omphalos.”

Her eyebrows raised.

“Pissed off the Anforsa. Encouraged the Wydlings to raid the borders. Snatched not one but two witches from prison.”

She smiled widely. “Excellent. And now you are a wanted woman.”

I nodded. “It seems so.”

“So why are you risking jail by sitting in a cafe in Bayladdy?”

“I’m looking for my daughter.” I bit down on the rest of the words, reminding myself that they could be the helpful people they appeared or shills working for the Anforsa.

“Did she run away?”

I gave the man a look that hopefully said, ‘Don’t be a dumbass.’ “No. And no offense, but I don’t know you people from Adam. Why do you care what happens to me?”

Zephyrinia righted a table and chair and sat down. “One, I’m a staunch fighter for the weak. I don’t like people who steal children from their mothers, for two. Three, he’s important to me.” She nodded in Mal’s direction. “I want to help him and I think you might have the information we need.”

I could have said I didn’t know and let that be that. But I was also selfish enough to want as many people looking for my daughter as possible. These two were obviously competent fighters. Okay, she was. It was just a hunch, but I thought Mal could probably kill without lifting a finger. Whatever he was, he was extremely dangerous. I could tell them to take a hike, or use them to get my daughter back and worry about the consequences later.

‘How’s that for thinking strategically, Ty?’

Besides, I did have Vasili and access to the Skriven library. Without a doubt, the guy had some Skriven blood. “I can’t make any promises, but if you can help me get my daughter back, I’ll figure out what he is.”

She stared at me for longer than was comfortable. I kept myself from squirming and she finally slapped her hand on the table. “All right then. How can we help?”

SEVEN

“Did you see her?” I asked Krosh when he returned.

He eyed my new companions warily. “Yes.”

“How is she? Is she okay? Was she hurt? If Arsinua has touched a hair on her head—”

Kroshtuka put his hands on my cheeks and gazed into my eyes. “She is okay. Arsinua is okay, too.”

I didn’t give a shit about Arsinua, but didn’t say it. “Krosh, this is Zephyrinia and Mal. They want to help find Bethy.”

“Why?”

Mal shifted and I felt rather than heard Krosh’s low growl. The other man froze, though not out of fear.

Zephyrinia gave him the same spiel she’d given me, then finished with, “It’s selfish as much as it’s generous. We want answers and Devany can help us.”

I slipped my hand in his and squeezed gently. He squeezed back. He’d go along with it for me. For now. “We need to find someplace safer to talk.”

Zephyrinia rented a room in a hotel a couple blocks from the cafe and we trooped up together. The clerk gazed after us and Mal snorted in laughter.

“What?” Zeph asked as we stepped inside the lift.

“He’s picturing us all together in bed, naked.”

I curled my lip as the ornate doors slid shut. Perv. It also confirmed my suspicions about Mal.

Zeph unlocked the door and stepped aside for us to enter. In one corner of the room, a bed floated over a small pond with koi swimming in it and honest to goodness lily pads on the surface of the water. The walls didn’t look like walls: they were jungle trees, densely packed, though when I touched one, I could feel the solid wooden panel underneath the illusion. Even though my hand was telling me it was a wall, my eyes insisted it was a boundless jungle I could walk into and disappear.

Trippy.

We sat on white cushions that bobbled in the air and drank water from a waterfall that danced over a metal sculpture in the shape of an exotic bird. I wasn’t sure how a person would ever get to sleep in a place like this. There were too many things to see, too much noise. Maybe there was an off switch somewhere.

“The easiest thing would be for Mal and I to walk in and take your daughter,” Zeph said.

I shook my head. “No. Arsinua is all that’s paranoia and she’s terrified of Skriven. He would trip every alarm she has.”

“Skriven?”

“Yeah.” More questions bloomed and I said, “I hate to be an asshole, but I want to focus on getting my daughter back. Once I have her safe, then I’ll answer your questions. Please.”

He nodded, though clearly he wasn’t happy.

“Then I’ll go by myself,” Zephyrinia said, breaking up the uncomfortable silence left by my plea.

“It’s not safe,” Mal said.

She arched a brow. I almost felt sorry for him. Silenced by me and then her. “She doesn’t know me. I won’t register as anything but witch. And it’s not like I’m helpless.” She patted the gun on her hip.

I could almost imagine it. Zeph going in shooting. Bethany getting hit in the crossfire. “No. Arsinua has had plenty of time to fortify her hideout. I won’t risk Bethy. There’s got to be a way to get to her that doesn’t involve a shootout.”

Set a trap. Lure out the witch and then eat her.

‘Thanks, but I’m not eating anyone,’ I told Neutria. I caught Mal’s frown and smiled grimly. If he was eavesdropping, he deserved being disturbed by whatever he heard.

“Why don’t we use the tides?” At my blank look, Zeph said, “The tides break down magic, which means when they roll in, they will wreck any protection spells she has built up around the place.

Krosh, who’d been pacing the room behind us—away from Mal—said, “It could work. I wouldn’t be able to help, though.”

Right. Because the tide would shift him unpredictably. Would it do the same to Neutria and me?

“You’re a Ground dweller,” Mal said. “A, what do they call it? Wydling.”

“Yes.”

“How does the wild magic not consume you?”

“It doesn’t want to consume the People. It wants us to thrive. We celebrate it and in return, it allows us safe passage.” He let his hyena peer through his eyes, making him look deadlier, otherworldly. “It wasn’t meant to be caged, any more than we were.”

Zeph and I exchanged glances and then she said, “Our part of the world is a lot different. We live and die in the sky. Those on the Ground are often mad.”

“Are they? How much time have you spent down there with them?”

She laughed and pulled up her sleeve. A long, ugly gash ran from her wrist upward, and disappeared under the white fabric of her shirt at her bicep. “It’s true that there are a few folks living well with the land, but there are dangers.”

“Fleshcrawlers are dangerous. They live in the wild magic. Chythraul too. The natural world isn’t without its perils,” I said. “It has beauty too, and goodness. It’s perfect for its imperfections and mutability.” All eyes were on me and I pushed my point home. “The witch lands are suffocating. Controlling the magic makes beautiful things like that possible,” I said, pointing at the wall that looked like a jungle, “but it’s an illusion. The wild magic is a living, breathing thing and it’s dying. If it dies, what happens to your world?”