Martyr (24 page)

They left soon after Dreya returned from her study of Dmitri. Her expression was stormy as they walked down the path that led away from Silveron. But if she had discovered something, anything, she kept it quiet. For his part, Tenn had more than enough on his mind. He didn't need to inquire and add more to his plate.

The silence stretched between them the full length of the afternoon. The fields and forests they trekked through were silent, and the sky darkened steadily toward evening. Tenn would have killed to drive, but that would be an impossibility so long as the roads were covered in so much snow. The storm must have hit in the night, adding a few more inches, though the clouds still looked pregnant with precipitation. You never really appreciated the vastness of America until you traversed it on foot. Every minute felt like an hour, and every mile was a slow tick of misspent heartbeats.

Not long after the sky turned, Devon led them off the highway and into a field covered in freshly fallen snow. There were no tracks anywhere, not from deer or mice or anything else that might live out in the wilds. Just smooth, unbroken white.

They trudged through the field for at least an hour, until it was almost impossible to differentiate between the smoky snow and the darkening horizon. Every few minutes, Dreya would open to Air and send a gust of wind behind them, effectively obscuring their own tracks. On the other side of the field rose a forest. There was no mystery as to where Devon was leading them.

Devon stopped a few feet away from the edge of the trees. For a moment, he just stood there, staring into the undergrowth, his eyes set in concentration. Air pulsed in his throat.

“Are you sure?” Dreya asked softly.

Devon nodded.

Tenn opened to Earth and checked for himself, but he couldn't feel anything. Nothing moved within the trees, nothing pulsed with life, not for miles. He shot a questioning look at Devon but decided not to question him. The guy seemed dead-set in his convictions.

Devon opened to Fire, and then, before Tenn could say anything to stop him, he sent up a flare. It was like watching stars fall in reverse; tiny motes of light flared into life around him and shot high into the air, blazing against the grey sky. Devon wove them together, lights streaking like white thread, forming intricate knots high above the treeline. Each was a symbol, a language Tenn couldn't understand, and each symbol flared bright as a strobe before being replaced by another whirling shape. The field around them flashed white and glaring. In a world where fortune favored the meek, this was a dangerous game to play. Who knew how far Matthias's army had really gone?

Devon dropped the Sphere a moment later. The night seemed even heavier the moment the magical light vanished.

“What the hell was that?” Tenn hissed.

He gripped his staff tight and opened to Earth, stretching his focus as far out into the field as possible. Nothing was moving, but that didn't mean no one had seen it.

“It is the signal,” Dreya said. “The Witches must be entreated. One cannot enter their territory without their express invitation.”

Tenn whipped his head and his senses into the forest, but that was still and silent, too. If anyone was living in there, they were miles away.

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

“We wait,” Devon said. “And we hope they are still alive.”

The minutes seemed to stretch on forever. Tenn didn't let go of Earth, not once, but he didn't feel anything stirring within the forest. Devon and Dreya were both open to Air, scanning silently, their eyes practically glowing in the darkness.

Then from the distant field, far out of Tenn's magical reach, came a noise.

A scream. A Howl.

In unison, their attention snapped to the way they'd come.

“No way,” Tenn said. “They followed us.”

“Did you expect anything less?” Dreya asked, her words biting.

“No, but I also didn't expect to hand out our location on a silver tray either,” he snapped, glaring at Devon.

Fire flickered in Devon's chest, and he bowed his head. Tenn wasn't certain where his own inner rage was coming from—hadn't he
wanted
to find Matthias? The bloodlust still sang, but it was muted now. Something about the Academy had dimmed his hatred, had made him realize that there was much more to this than he had bargained for. Tenn turned to Dreya.

“How many?” he asked, because he knew she could sense farther than him. Although it was a vain hope, he was holding on to the idea that it was just a wandering pack of kravens. Something they could dispose of quickly and easily. Something that wouldn't require him to open to Water. He still had Earth—he
always
had Earth—but until he strengthened that Sphere, a few uses would drain him completely.

Dreya's hesitation told him more than enough. When she spoke, her words were ice.

“The full army,” she said. “And it seems it has expanded.”

“Great,” Tenn whispered. He looked to Devon. “Any sign of your friends?”

Devon lowered his eyes and said nothing.

“It is not his fault,” Dreya replied. “There is no other way to communicate with the clans, not when they are in hiding.”

“Tell that to my corpse,” Tenn said. Then he gritted his teeth and stared into the horizon. He didn't want to die here. It wasn't self-preservation; it was the need for revenge. He wasn't prepared to take on Matthias. He wasn't able to avenge Jarrett's death, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

It wasn't night that crept across the field and turned it black. No, the stain on the far edge of the field was darker and faster than shadow, and as it neared, Tenn could feel the army as the earth trembled beneath its feet. In any other situation, he would have forced them all to let go of the Spheres, to wait and hope the army might pass them by. But they had already lost the element of surprise. The best they could do now was try to fend them off from a distance.

He opened his mouth to give the orders when a branch snapped behind him. He turned around, ready to kill the creature lurking in the shadows.

A little girl stepped out from the depths of the trees. She was in jeans and a wool sweater, her dark blonde hair pulled to the sides in long pigtails. She couldn't have been older than ten.

“Are you the ones who sent up the signal?” she asked. Her eyes surveyed them, then took in the approaching horde without even the mildest hint of concern.

Devon nodded.

“Follow me,” she said. Then she headed back into the trees.

“But the army—” Tenn began, only to be cut off by her response.

“Won't be an issue if you do what I say. Stay close.”

Tenn looked at the twins, but if there was any uncertainty between the two of them, they didn't show it. Without even glancing to the army behind them, they followed the girl into the woods.

Tenn spared the field a glance, just briefly. The horde was still a mile or so away, but it would arrive within minutes. They didn't have a chance against them no matter what, but in the forest, their probability of survival dropped dramatically. In here, the trees would hide friend and foe alike. He glanced back to the retreating forms of the twins, the white of their coats blending into the woods like ghosts.

“Fuck,” he whispered. Then he bounded after them.

24

“Where
the hell are we going?” he whispered to Dreya. The strange girl was only a few feet ahead of them, and she walked through the woods with a quick, assured step. He could barely see her in the coming twilight. No one responded to his question, not even the girl.

Even with Earth pulsing in his gut, he couldn't feel anyone else stirring in the woods. Just the four of them, moving deeper and deeper into the wilderness while the approaching army roared toward them.

“The first line is coming up,” the girl said. She paused and held out a hand. “I suggest you hold on from here on out. It can be difficult to follow the path if you're not accustomed to the way.”

Devon didn't hesitate. He took the girl's hand and Dreya took his. She held her hand out and raised an eyebrow at Tenn. If that wasn't an admonishing glance, he didn't know what was. He took it. His pulse was a panicked throb in his ears. Here they were, holding hands in the woods while their imminent death was minutes away. And yet the girl was about as unconcerned as was humanly possible, and the twins weren't much better.

He thought it was his imagination, but a few steps later, the girl disappeared. Devon appeared to be holding his arm out to thin air. Another step and Devon vanished into the night. Another step and Dreya was gone, though he still felt her hand in his. Something washed over him, a tingle that swept through his gut like vertigo and nausea and that sick feeling from spinning around too fast. It passed in an instant, leaving him feeling as though he'd just stepped off a ship to dry land. The girl and the twins were visible once more, the chain unbroken.

He glanced around as they moved forward. Something unsettled him, something in the very pit of his gut that just felt wrong. He looked behind him. Had they gotten turned around? He started to release Dreya's hand. Surely he'd left something behind…

“Don't be fooled by your instincts,” the girl said. “We're approaching the second line. Just follow me.”

Dreya gripped his hand even tighter.

This time, although he was prepared for it, he nearly yelped when the girl disappeared from sight. His grip on Dreya's hand was tighter than death as every fightor-flight nerve in his body began to fire. He was going the wrong way. If he kept walking, he was going to die. The little girl wasn't one of the Witches—she had been sent to capture them. To kill them. Devon disappeared. He knew if he stepped through that invisible wall, he'd be torn apart. Fear welled up in his throat, fluttered in his chest as Dreya disappeared, as that blankness came for him. Another step.

And another wave of nausea roiled over him, stronger this time. The forest churned around him, sloshing from side to side as he stumbled. Even the twins were unsteady on their feet, staggering as the girl led them onward.

“Only one more,” said the girl. She walked calmly, smoothly. “This is always the worst.”

There was no mistaking it now. He needed to turn and run. He couldn't go another step, and yet the girl dragged them forward. On the other side of that invisible veil was Matthias, waiting to burn them alive. He could practically hear Jarrett's voice in his head, yelling at him to stop, to turn around, to flee. Dreya's nails dug into his skin.

The girl slipped from sight.

Then Devon.

No
.

No
.

No
.

Dreya vanished.

He closed his eyes and bit his tongue to keep the screaming in, to keep his heart from exploding in its frantic beat.

Electricity rolled across his skin in a tingling wave. Pleasant, almost. And when it cleared, the panic was gone. He opened his eyes and gasped.

The trees gave way to a clearing roughly the size of a city block. A stream split it down the middle, and caravans and trailers radiated out from a central bonfire like spokes on a wagon wheel. The crackle of fire and scent of woodsmoke filled his head, along with the sounds of violins and conversation. He paused.
How the hell is this possible?
He hadn't sensed any of this from the outside.

The girl didn't give them any time to ponder. She released Devon's hand and turned to them.

“My mother will see you now. She is the clan mother, and she has been waiting a long time for your arrival.”

Then she turned and walked toward the trailers.

The three of them paused. Dreya looked to Devon and took a deep breath. He nodded and squared his shoulders, looking for all the world like he was about to go into battle. They began to follow, but Tenn reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Dreya's coat. Although the panic from before was gone, there was still the gut-deep fear that came from knowing that, at any moment, the forest was going to be overrun by Howls and necromancers bent on their destruction.

“Are you sure we're safe here?” he asked. He glanced back to the trees. He fully expected to see shadows darting through them, for people to start screaming as the nightmares leaped forth. But the woods were silent.

“We can trust their magic,” Dreya said. She gestured to the trailers. “They have clearly been living here for some time.”

And she was right. The spokes of the trailer wheels were covered in dead vines and weeds. Some trailers were propped up on cinderblocks or nestled in the earth.

“I guess,” Tenn said, though he didn't really buy it. He kept a light touch on Earth, just in case, constantly scanning the woods for any sign of movement. He could feel the Howls and the rest of the army swarming against the edge of the trees. But they didn't come any further. After the Academy, the illusion of safety set him on edge.

The girl led them over to a tan trailer that looked just like any other—a few curtained windows, an awning slumped with snow that stretched over an aluminum door. The only thing that set it apart was the amulet hung over the door: a seven-pointed star resting in the curve of a horned moon. She opened it without knocking and stepped inside, leaving Tenn and the twins to follow awkwardly behind.

Inside, the trailer was warm and cozy. The girl was already sitting at a table set against the wall, a mug of steaming tea in her hands. To the left of the door was a small kitchenette. A woman stood by the stove, stirring a pot of soup with a long wooden spoon. A starry velvet curtain hung just past the seating area, hiding the rest of the trailer from sight.

“Welcome, friends,” the woman said. “You must be the three who sent the signal.”

She rested the spoon on top of the pot and wiped her hands on her apron. She was tall and slim, with long dark brown hair flecked with grey. Fine lines traced the corners of her eyes. She stepped toward them, the fabric of her pale yellow dress swishing around her ankles, and embraced each of them in turn, Tenn last. He stiffened under her touch, though there was a warmth there, a familial sort of tenderness that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Maybe that was part of the reason he flinched. When she pulled back from the hug, she left her hands on his shoulders and looked him over.