Chasing Bloodlines (Book 4) (16 page)

He filtered the body once more until the draining water was clear, then braced his hands on the tub, sweat dripping down his face. “It’s up to her now. I’ve done all I can.” He washed her frame and shut off the taps. Cordis gingerly drew the water from her clothes and hair.

Thorne stepped in to pick her up as Cordis braced himself, giving the man a thankful nod. Aisling helped lay her back in the bed, feeling her forehead. It was much cooler. Even her skin was less pale. “Well done, Cordis,” she breathed, arranging the blankets modestly. “You’ve saved her.”

“I got as much out as I could. What was it?”

She turned to him and bit her lip. “She was showing the same signs her mother died from,” she whispered. “I thought Queen Rincarel had a blood disease, but now I fear she was slowly poisoned. Whoever did it has been in the palace all these years?”

“I do not think so,” Thorne cut in cautiously. “I am quite certain he fled.”

Aisling looked up in remembrance. “How did you learn of the Queen’s poisoning before me?”

Thorne lowered his head. “Prince Balien told me.”

“Where is he? He should be here with a dozen remedies.”

Thorne put his hand on her arm and gripped it for a moment, a gesture much unlike the wizened Commander. “Prince Balien is dead.”

The color drained from her face. “What?” she breathed, tears springing to her eyes. Cordis put a hand over his mouth, instantly tearing up.

“He was stabbed to death in his rooms no more than thirty minutes ago.”

“Take me to him,” Aisling cut in and pulled at his coat sleeve.

“It is no place for a Lady.”

“Take me—now.”

Thorne gave a reluctant nod and led the way as they followed. Balien’s floor was quiet, his room not surrounded by mourners. A single guard stood outside the threshold to prevent anyone from entering. Thorne waved him away and stepped in.

Balien lay on his side in a puddle of smeared blood that trailed from the bedchamber. His hazel eyes were open and glazed with death. One arm wrapped around his gut. White powder lay all around him and broken ceramic jars scattered not far from his reach. In the bloodied powder he had written “ROBYN POISONED, NOL” with a finger until life slipped from him.

Aisling’s tears spilled over as she looked at her friend. The boy had been so akin to her own son, a smart, talented man with such a heart for honesty. Cordis sank to a knee and gripped his temples with one hand. He had fostered Balien for years, and the boy was as much a son as Gabriel.

“No, not my Balien.”

Thorne walked around the body and picked up a few whole jars. “He tried to cauterize the bleeding with kaolin and shepherd’s purse. Stars, he tried everything.” He stooped to a jar labeled ‘cayenne’. There were at least three more in pieces around him. “It looks like he was stabbed from underneath the bed and pinned there while the attacker struck again.”

Aisling’s tears flowed freely, hidden behind the shawl covering her face. “How—how did you know?” she finally stuttered and lowered her shawl to look. Thorne pointed to a set of bells on the wall behind her. Now that she looked, she noticed several of the smashed jars had obviously been thrown against that wall.

“He rang the bell to the General’s conference room where I was reading. I came right up…but he was already gone.”

Cordis stood and dried his eyes. “Nolen. I’m sure he was writing Nolen.”

“Did the guard not see him?” Aisling whispered.

“The guard was knocked unconscious and dragged in here. I have men looking, but I guarantee Nolen is gone. I am certain he also attempted to kill Robyn and told Balien during the attack.”

“My stars,” Aisling whispered. “Gabriel will be devastated.”

“So will Robyn.”

Aisling dried her tears. “I should be there when she wakes. Thorne, would you see Balien is taken into the vaults where it is coldest and have him dressed? We will have a service as soon as Robyn is well. Please keep this a secret. I cannot have it getting out yet.”

“Of course, Advisor,” Thorne bowed.

Aisling composed herself, smoothed her hair, and stepped out with Cordis close behind. His head hung low.

“What do we do?” Cordis breathed.

“We tell no one. Robyn is weak, and this could set her back. Gabriel needs to hear this from me. Give the Queen a few days to recuperate.”

Cordis put an arm around her shoulders. “You’re a very brave woman, Aisling Lamay.”

She was brave as far as her door, where upon she burst into hysterical tears.

Chapter 18

They harvested Gabriel twice the day before, taking him no higher than the ninth setting and giving him precious few hours to rest. He slept like a dead person that night and woke feeling drained, unwilling to rise from his bed.

He had been able to wash when they shoved a second bucket of soap under his door. But they provided no razor for the stubble on his face. He preferred a clean shaven face, a washed body, and a warm meal, but none were feasible.

He lay where he woke, leaving his food untouched, unwilling to even dress. The familiar feelings of despair crept in as his present mirrored his past, but his will was still strong if he pushed himself hard enough.

He rose and dressed, lacing his boots up and running a hand through his waves that were getting flat. It was not long before they came for him again, rushing the room to grab him before he could stand. They yanked him by his shirtsleeves to the door. He could barely manage to fight, too tired, shuffling his way down the hall, but he managed just enough strength to kick and punch three before they subdued him to the harvesting room.

Gabriel crammed on his heels when he saw two guards carrying a man out on a stretcher, but they forced him in.

“Stars, Lael?” he gasped. The Secondhand was pale and wan. There were circles under his eyes and his usual slicked-back hair fell in disarray around his forehead. Lael’s eyes remained closed, and he made no effort to move or recognize Gabriel’s voice. He looked out of place in a ripped shirt without a fine coat, comatose and unresponsive.

“You cannot do this to him! He’s only a Class Five, not like your stronger Gaelsin Mages.” The guards pushed Gabriel in and ignored him. He lacked the energy to struggle as they forced him onto the table and into the shackles. His only optimistic thought was that they would release him when finished.

The belts went around his chest, and the needles slid through the metal discs, making him cringe. Afton was not able to heal those, and they ached with each harvesting.

“Take it up to ten today,” the head man in black instructed.

Gabriel braced himself as they flipped a switch. The shock of energy leaving him came as always, but when his back began to lock up, it felt curiously painful and uncomfortable. As it climbed, the pain escalated, racing up his back far too fast.

He gasped and the dowel fell from his teeth as his back arched off the table. Quickly, a cry of pain rose from his throat. The table shook as his back locked up and all strength left him. Suddenly, the glow bowls in the room popped and extinguished, followed by showers of glass and black-clad men ducking. His cry rose to a scream.

“Off!” someone shouted.

“No! He can take more!”

He could not, throwing his head back as his scream parched his throat. Blood came to his lips and spilled over before the head man in black called for halt. He slipped his hand under Gabriel’s neck and called for light. Someone lit a candle and brought it closer. “His skull almost locked up. How long was t’at?”

“One minute, ten seconds.”

“Cut it at one minute five next time. It made him bleed.” The man turned Gabriel’s head to get a better look as scarlet blood frothed between his gasps. “Curious. Stuff his mouth wit’ cotton next time. He’s finished.”

They unshackled him in the darkness and brushed the glass into corners. He closed his exhausted eyes as they lifted him and carried him into the hall. Darkness covered his eyelids for a while until the first unbroken glow bowl illuminated the space.

Afton’s healing room was still lit. The guards carrying the stretcher carefully transferred him onto the table face down, and one whispered, “Locked up to his skull.”

Afton’s warm hand touched his shoulder and gently squeezed. “Rough time?” He made a guttural reply, fearing if he spoke, he would start coughing blood up. She stepped beside him and prodded up his spine. He had learned that when she inhaled, he should as well, and she unsnapped his vertebrae with each breath. Still, when he exhaled, the blood in his throat coughed up more than once. Halfway up, she put her hand on his shoulder again.

“Are you alright?”

He gutturally responded and gave no explanation, so she continued.

“Why do t’ey call you t’ Star Breaker?”

He took a careful breath. “I made a pattern…that makes it look like the stars fall.”

She cracked him twice more. “Shaun came to me yesterday.”

“He did?” Gabriel gasped, resulting in another fit of coughing. “Is he well?”

“He is. Tell me more of Castle Jaden.”

She cracked him once more, shifting the spine back and forth afterward with her palms. “What specifically?” he asked.

“What did you do for t’ Gaelsins?”

“I…gave them quarters for their families…and food and clothes and…we opened storefronts for them…and they are safe from attacks and I,” he coughed, trying to suppress it, “want to educate and Class them.” He coughed again.

“To what end?” She snapped him twice more.

“I came here looking for…stronger Mages to help me fight the Arch Mages…but I saw a greater need.” She reached his shoulders and cracked them, sending him into a fit.

“You are not well,” she stated worriedly. “Are you ill?”

“No,” he breathed, pushing up on his forearms to cough into his sleeve. “It’s an old wound.”

“You were not healed?”

“My Mages are not strong enough.” She tapped his shoulder, and he carefully turned over.

“I have spoken with t’ t’ree in your party, and t’ey all say t’ same about what you’ve done wit’ Gaelsin Mages, so I believe you.” She cracked his neck left, then right. “I don’t understand why.”

He watched her work for a few moments. “You’ve been mistreated your whole life, haven’t you?”

She paused on his neck, then swiftly cracked it, laying her hands on his shoulders.

“Goodness is not a choice, it is a necessity.” Gabriel said, and Afton winced.

“What…room are you in?”

“128.”

She patted his shoulders. “You’re finished here. T’ey won’t harvest you again today. Even
t’ey
know you need rest.”

He slid off the table slowly, feeling the blood leave his face. He gave the guards no trouble, thankful for the cot he collapsed into.

“
You did what
?” Maxine gasped. “You great reeling idiot!”

Nolen folded his arms before her and shrugged his shoulder. Ryker leaned against the far wall toying with his Excellyon and eying Nolen with an eye that considered using the object.

Maxine rounded on Nolen and backhanded him hard. “I needed Robyn
alive
. I
told you
not to meddle with Balien, in fact I believe I was crystalline clear about it. How can you possibly be King when you cannot follow instruction from those who put you on the throne?”

“When I am King, I will answer to no one.”

“You are not King yet.” She grabbed his neck and shifted him outside in the snow. Maxine punched his chest with a doldrums pattern and marched back, leaving him where he fell. It took her a full route of the house to calm down before she returned to the great room. Ryker had not moved and was watching her with amusement.

“Will y’ kill him?”

“I very well may yet.”

“Nolen’s sister would be next in line, ac she could be easily manipulated.”

“Is there no one else?”

Ryker shook his head. “The Bolt line is dead.”

“The Head Mage is going to rip this land apart looking fo’ him,” she pointed outside. “I have half a mind to hand him over.”

“He knows too many of our secrets.”

“Then he will be dead at the time.” She fell into a seat angrily.

“This will push the Head Mage in the right direction.”

‘Aye, if he were free.’
She nodded halfheartedly. “I think Nolen needs to stay here with you. I cannot have him in the mansion right now.”

“Ac where is he now?”

“Learning of frostbite. Leave him be.”

Gabriel slept deeply, his body exhausted in a way he had never felt. He was not sure how long he slept, hours, days maybe, but he woke when the latch to his door opened. His heart sank. He was not ready for more harvesting, he was barely able to stand let alone be drained.

But Afton came through the door.

“Gabriel?” she whispered.

“What are you doing here?” he gasped, rising to a seated position.

“Quickly, we must go.”

His heart leaped, and he took her extended hand. Part of him suspected a trap, but only the part of distrust Nolen had instilled in him.

They broke into the hallway and closed the door behind him. “I must get my Secondhand and friends as well.”

She pulled him. “I do not know where t’ey are, and you best hurry if you’re gettin’ out.”

“But!”

“No, Gabriel, we haven’t time. You can return later.” She quickened her pace, one hand on the wall as she rushed him down the hall. No voices called from the cells as he passed. There were broken people inside.

She took a left and continued up a short flight of stairs and around another corner. Pausing, she listened quietly, her hand gripping his tightly. When she was sure they were safe, she burst into a circular room, that looked oddly strange now that he saw it right-side up, and took him up another flight of stairs.

They passed several windows, and he blinked at the bright daylight, blinding his vision. They heard voices up ahead, but she only quickened her pace and pulled him down another hall, finally coming to a stop. Putting a hand on his leg, she moved it forward onto a white tile.

Elements flooded into him, and he gasped in rapture. It was almost as sweet as the day he was freed from the Castrofax, though then he was not nearly as exhausted.

“Go quickly,” she whispered.

“Come with me.”

She screwed her face. “I cannot.”

“I need a personal physician, and you’ve proven your loyalty.”

“T’ese people need me here. T’ey will die if t’ back cannot be unlocked, and no one can do it like I can.”

He held her hand tightly. “I’m coming back for my friends, and I will put an end to this barbaric harvesting. Will you come with me then?”

Her face was blank for a moment, then she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Go quickly,” she breathed.

Releasing her, Gabriel seized Void and shot a line out of the cursed palace and straight into Castle Jaden. He arrived a minute later, dropping into Mikelle’s room. She stood with her back to him

“Mikelle,” he whispered, his voice fading as his strength left him.

“Gabriel!” she exclaimed and rushed to him. “Oh my sweet stars!” She went to embrace him but saw him falter. Instead she dragged the nearest chair closer, so he could fall into it. The race out of the palace took a harder toll than he thought, and he sat there trying to still his breathing to keep blood from rising.

“What
happened
? You look terrible.” She thumbed against the scruff on his cheek.

“They harvested me,” he replied as he leaned his head against the back of the chair. “What’s happened since I left?”

“We’ve been so worried. We tried to come to an agreement with King Rayner, but he would have nothing to do with it. The Gaelsins are adjusting well. Wait, where is Lael?”

“He’s still there. I’ll go back as soon as I have my strength.”

“How did you get out?”

“A girl broke me out and took me to a stone I could shift from. Please thank Shaun for me.” His mind began to drift as exhaustion took him, but she shook him back to consciousness.

“My bed,” she instructed and looped an arm around his back to shuffle a few yards to an inviting plush bed. He did not give her time to push back the duvet, collapsing on his side. He stayed awake long enough to feel her pick his legs up and put them on the bed, and Gabriel lapsed into blessed darkness at last.

Mikelle burst into Shaun’s room.

“Fair flower, you need to learn to knock,” she heard his voice say, but she had to follow his revolving pattern around a corner to find him.

“What under the stars are you doing?” she gasped. He stood on his hands completely inverted with his legs split almost horizontally. His balance was steady while his arms shook little from effort, clad in only a pair of loose gray trousers. “Or,
how
under the stars are you doing that?”

“T’is?” he asked in a confused tone and slowly rotated his legs. “Do you not keep the body limber in t’is kingdom?”

“Not like that,” she muttered. He slowly set one foot down and stood. He was ever so appealing, built hard with a slender waist and strong shoulders.