Maylin's Gate (Book 3) (19 page)

Her shoulder’s tensed. Was she walking into a trap?

The girl’s comforting voice came from shadows. “It’s okay.” Soothing light flooded the compartment below and an oil lamp appeared in the girl’s raised hand.

She paused staring into the girl’s face.

Blond, dirt-streaked hair hung loose around the girl’s shoulders. A pair of intelligent green eyes peered up from the storage compartment.

She slipped her feet in the ladder’s top rung and swayed.

Voices rang from the stairway at the passageway’s end.

The troopers would be on them in minutes. She forced herself down the ladder.

The girl touched her leg and guided her down the ladder. “I’ve got you,” the girl said from below.

She grabbed hold of a rope attached to the underside of the trapped door and eased it closed behind her. She continued down the ladder until her feet touched the deck.

Wooden crates packed the ship’s cargo bay. Between the crates, narrow corridors led deeper into the hold. Corridors just broad enough for two slight humans to pass through.

The girl slipped ahead and turned sideways to fit between the boxes and crates.

She followed doing her best to keep with the girl’s hurried pace.

The girl turned right and then left. They twisted and turned through a maze of crates before stopping.

“Why are we stopping?” She said.

“This is it.” The girl glanced toward an over-sized crate. One of dozens in the narrow isle.

“We aren’t anywhere,” she said.

The girl worked the edges of the crate’s cover. “Get the other side.” The girl glanced toward her. “Hurry.”

She slipped her numb fingers inside a gap behind the crate’s lid and pulled in time with the girl.

The lid fell away revealing its contents. Blankets, loose clothing, bread, and dried fruit filled an otherwise open space.

“Get inside,” the girl said.

A half-dozen heavy footfalls pounded on the decking above.

She hurried inside the crate and crawled to the back shivering in the corner.

The girl ducked into the crate and pulled the lid shut using two pieces of rope attached to the lid.

She struggled against an overwhelming urge to reach out and take the girl’s life. The night’s events had drained her energy. The dark magic flowing through her blood demanded feeding.

The girl spun and faced her. “Take off your clothes.”

Her teeth clattered, and she pressed her knees into her chest. “What?”

“Your nightclothes are covered in ice.” The girl crawled ahead stopping near her feet. “You’ll freeze to death. I’ll help you.”

She unfolded her body and nodded.

“Your lips are blue and your skin is white as snow,” the girl said. “I don’t know how you survived.” The girl’s deft hands worked the buttons on her ruined nightgown. “What’s your name?”

Why did the girl need her name? Would she recognize her? Her shoulders slumped and her gaze drifted downward. “Tara.”

The girl’s hands never stopped working the buttons. “I’m Jo. Can you hold out your arms?”

She did as Jo requested lifting her trembling arms outward. “Why did you save me?”

Jo’s brow furrowed. “That’s an odd question. Why wouldn’t I save you? Those…things were about to kill you.” Jo pulled the frozen sleeves of her nightgown over her arms.

The nightgown fell free revealing her naked body. She hugged her arms over her chest covering her breasts from view.

Voices sounded outside the crate. The troopers had entered the cargo hold.

“Be still,” Jo said. “They’ll hear us.”

They could do more than hear. Should she tell Jo that the baerinese could detect strong emotion? Not now. Not ever. She nodded and leaned forward pressing her chest into her legs.

A fresh wave of tremors set her body trembling. Without the aid of adrenaline or movement, she would go into shock.

She tasted the ember of death deep inside her body and beckoned the magic forward. She couldn’t trust this girl. This human. But, Jo had saved her life.

The voices outside the crate spoke. Their words sounded slurred and unrecognizable.

Jo’s warm fingertips touched her arm sending a shock through her body.

She released the magic. How long could she ignore the urges?

The sound of heavy footfalls moved away and the voices faded.

Jo spun and faced her. “Sit up. I have to get this off you.”

She sat up and leaned against the crate’s wall before raising her hips.

Jo slipped free the frozen nightgown and tossed it in an empty corner.

She trembled lying naked before the human girl and buried her head between her legs.

Jo gathered a blanket from the corner and wrapped it around her shoulders. “That’s better.”

Warmth wrapped around her body and tears flowed unbidden. She met Jo’s comforting gaze and nodded. “Thank you.”

Jo’s gaze drifted downward and a blush crept across the girl’s cheeks and neck. “Lean into me. My body will warm you.”

She pressed her body into Jo’s and warmth spread through her frozen flesh. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen seasons,” Jo said. “I think I turn seventeen next month.”

An answer that sparked a thousand questions, but she wouldn’t pry. “How were you planning to escape?” She said. “You won’t get far aboard their ship.”

“They are moving inland,” Jo said. “When they leave Ripool, I’ll sneak past the rest.”

Could this slip of a girl sneak past the baerinese militia? She had no reason to doubt Jo’s survival skills. “You can’t. The road leaving Ripool is buried.”

Jo stiffened. “How?”

“The king,” she said.

“King Ronan?” A spark of excitement filled the girl’s voice. “Is he here?”

She shook her head. “He’s wounded. I think I saw a guardian pull him free of the wreckage.”

Jo’s body sagged. “Then we’re trapped here with them?”

“They’re leaving,” she said. “Hours from now they’ll fill this ship and every other ship in the harbor.”

Jo’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”

Her shoulders tensed. “I overheard a few of them talking.”

“Where are they going?”

“Half are going north and the other half are going south,” she said. “I don’t know where this ship is going.” She thought this one of Andreas’s ships. They would head south along the coast, but she kept that information hidden.

“Then we’ll wait and try to sneak off at the next port,” Jo said.

She pursed her lips and held Jo’s hopeful gaze. Would she let the girl live? Could she stop herself from taking Jo’s life? “Elan willing.” Without thought, the expression tripped from her lips, and she bristled.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Visited

Ronan's eyes fluttered open. Mounds of clean-smelling blankets covered his body. Soft, downy pillows beneath his neck reminded him of home.

He jerked upright and blinked.

A fire blazed in the hearth across the room and his desk lay undisturbed near the doorway. Light poured through the bay windows reflecting the weave of gold thread in the blue carpet.

His room inside the royal palace. He rubbed his eyes and perked his ears.

Silence. Unsettling silence. The palace always creaked and groaned, but not now.

He inhaled expecting the rich aromas from Mistress Pell's next meal. Nothing registered. The room smelled sterile. How had he managed to travel back to Freehold? Was he dreaming? He discounted the idea. The bed under him felt solid unlike any dream.

He pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the feathered mattress. "Rika." No answer.

"She's not here," a lilting voice said from behind.

He whirled and reached for Elan's magic. It didn't come. Panic swelled in his chest.

A figure clad in a hooded robe peered out the bay window overlooking the arena. The woman's back faced him.

"Who are you?" He couldn't hide the panic in his voice.

"Don't you recognize my voice Elduin?"

Elduin? Had he lost his mind? "I'm sorry miss, do I know you?"

The robe-clad figure turned and faced him. Shadows hid the woman's face. Slender hands pulled away the hood. An unfamiliar, copper-toned face appeared. A golden braid curled over the woman's shoulder and a pair of ocean blue eyes left him spellbound.

He licked the dryness from his lips and his breathing quickened.

A slight smile crept across the woman's face. "No. I suppose you wouldn't."

The slight upward tilt of the woman's eyes threw him. Was she Ayralen? No, not Ayralen, but not Meranthian either.

The woman's gaze flickered to his bare chest before returning to meet his gaze.

His eyes drifted to the stranger's ears. Sloped at an odd angle tapering into a soft pointed tip. "I'm sorry," he said. "I must be dreaming." He stepped forward and ran the back of his hand across her flawless cheeks.

The woman shivered, but made no effort to pull away. "This is no dream, Elduin. I thought this place might be easier for you."

"Why do you keep calling me Elduin? My name is Ronan."

A blush spread across the woman's cheeks. "I shouldn't call you by that name. I'm sorry."

"Did you take away my magic?"

Confusion touched the woman's expression. "Why would I do that?" The stranger glanced over her shoulder as if expectant. "My time here is short. I've taken a great risk contacting you. It's important that you remember my words."

His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

The woman's eyes searched his for a long moment.

He waited for an answer afraid to move.

The woman's fingers intertwined with his and heat spread across his cheeks.

"Those living in both our worlds need you," the woman said. "We can no longer wait. The barrier grows too thin and agents are already among us."

Barrier? Was he losing his mind? He remembered the river basin and Moira. Had he hit his head? "Listen, I —"

"You must find the Seeker in our world," she said cutting him off. "The Seeker has information that will help you against the agents of Ruin."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what that means."

The woman's gaze again darted to the bay window and back again. When the beauty's scorching blue eyes turned and met his, fear consumed them.

"I can no longer stay." The woman squeezed his hands. "You must open Maylin's Gate and find the Seeker."

"What? Where do I start? How do I reach your world?"

"Find the Tree of Life. Zeke can help you."

"I don't understand. Please —"

The woman reached around his neck and drew him close. Supple fingers intertwined the hair at the nape of his neck. The woman's warm breath and intoxicating scent left his head spinning.

The stranger's lips brushed his cheeks. "Please Keeper. Don't abandon me," the woman said whispering in his ear.

Sweet warm breath sent goose bumps racing across his flesh and curling his toes.

The beauty took a step backward and glanced toward the window. Raw fear washed over the woman's face. "Find the Seeker in the Tower of Souls. Hurry."

The woman dissolved and panic raced through his mind.

He gasped and his eyes shot open. Sweat streaked his hair and soaked his tunic. He reached for Elan's magic. Nothing, but an empty void greeted his effort.

A gentle touch and a comforting voice came from above. "You're okay Ronan," Moira said. "You're among friends. Be calm. You were dreaming."

Was it a dream? His breaths came in short quick bursts. He blinked and rubbed the perspiration from his eyes.

Overhead a field of stars shone above a cloudless moonlit sky. The crackle and pop of a nearby campfire accompanied the sharp clean scent of burning pine.

He turned his head and found Moira's comforting eyes staring back. Moira stroked his hair.

He lay stretched out across a bed of soft grass with his head propped in Moira's lap.

"You're okay?" His throat burned, and the words came out dry and raspy.

Moira offered him a flask. "I'm fine child. Don't worry about me."

He eased upward and rubbed his temples willing away the pounding in his head. Warmth from a nearby campfire chased away the chill from his sweat-soaked shirt.

Moira's soft hand pressed against his cheek and a smile spread across the old woman's face. "Your fever has broken."

"Fever? How long have I been asleep?" He took the flask and tipped it back.

Cool water slid down his parched aching throat.

"Two days dear." Moira's gaze drifted across the fire. "I told you he would be sound of mind."

General Demos leaned against a granite boulder biting down on a wooden pipe. Sweet tobacco smoke curled into the thin air. The general studied him without speaking for a long moment. "That remains to be seen."