Second Stone (10 page)

The room was quiet, save for the sound of their spoons clinking against the bowls as they ate. Once her bowl was empty, she said, “I never thought I would have to stand against my dead mother and my own brother, but we can’t let them do this.” Emariya tried to stand, but a wave of dizziness washed over her.

“Will you rest before you go?” Kahl asked.

Emariya looked at Torian. “We can’t. Every day we delay is a day closer to Reeve forcing Terin to marry him and bind the Stones.”

Torian shook his head as he jumped up from the table, taking her by the shoulders and leading her to the bed. “No. You need to get your strength back first.”

“But Terin,” Emariya protested.

“We’ve some time ‘til spring,” Torian tried to soothe her. “And you are the most important thing to me. I won’t make the mistake of forgetting that again.”

“I think you should listen to him dear.” Alara came and pulled the blanket back so Torian could help her into the bed. “Rest.”

“As soon as you are strong enough, we will go. We will rescue your father, and then he can help us rescue my sister. But first, we need to take care of you.”

Emariya’s lip trembled. Torian was being so kind to her, even though it was her fault that Terin had been kidnapped in the first place. “I’m not tired,” she insisted.

“It’s not nice to lie,” Torian mock scolded.

“But what if I don’t wake up?” Panic made the bile rise in her throat when she thought of facing the dark mist again.

“I think I can help with that,” Alara said. She went to a little shelf on the far side of the room near the table and selected a clay jar. “Take a pinch of this.”

Emariya opened the jar. Inside she found an orange powder, identical to what had been in the vial Neela had given her. “What is this? I had some, but I couldn’t find it after we left Castle Ahlen. The herb woman at Warren’s Rest made me promise to take some every morning. I couldn’t, though, once I lost it.”

Alara and Kahl looked at each other, then Kahl answered, “It’s mindroot. It will keep the spirits out of your mind until you learn to control access on your own. I can teach you, if you like. But only after you get some rest.”

“I’d like that. Wait! That’s why my mother only came to me when I’d been unconscious after Russell knocked me out. Before that I never got more than snatches of…Great Grandmother Carah. She’s been guiding me. But I hadn’t taken it the day before, because we’d had no fire to make a tea. All the other times I tried to talk to Mother, I couldn’t.”

“That makes sense—the herb’s magic was preventing the connection.”

Emariya’s thoughts grew dark, wondering how deep her land’s secrets lay buried. Neela had given her the mindroot, exacting a promise to take it without fail. The wise-woman must have known the truth of its purpose, which meant she’d known what Emariya was. Why hadn’t she said anything?

Emariya’s contemplation was interrupted when Torian suddenly crumpled to the ground beside her feet at the end of the bed.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

From the corners of Torian’s mind, a startlingly vivid scene clouded across his eyes. One moment, he was standing near the end of the bed trying to convince Emariya to rest. The next, he was alone on a riverbank, watching a battle unfold just across the water.

Hordes of ragged would-be warriors clad in brown cloaks and armed with a mismatched array of weapons surrounded Torian’s Royal Forces. Death cries rang over the misty battlefield. At the center of the gut-churning scene, he saw Garith, who had locked swords with a man twice his age and nearly double his size.

The two combatants staged their war upon a pavilion of broken bodies cradled in crimson snow. Garith was just about to strike the killing blow when Torian’s world shattered. A scream he would know anywhere cut through, turning his blood cold.

Emariya!
Where was she and why was she even at the battle? Oh, by The Three, where was she? Torian looked around, scanning desperately for any sight of her.

He couldn’t see her. He had to find her!

Torian!
Someone gripped his shoulders from behind, shaking him. Torian tried to shove them away. They didn’t understand—he had to find Emariya. She could be hurt…or worse.

Torian.

Torian put his hands to his head, confused. That was her voice, but where—

“Torian!”

The house, the smoky fireplace, the lingering smell of soup, and her frantic hands on his face came rushing back all at once. “Emariya?” he asked, squinting, trying to clear his eyes and get his bearings. The image of the angel in front of him, worriedly staring into his eyes, was entwined with the last remnants of the foggy battlefield, and for a moment he thought he saw blood dripping down her hands.

He stood up—when had he fallen to the floor?—and shook his head, trying to chase the vision from his sight.

Her eyes were cloaked, revealing nothing. “You had a vision, didn’t you?”

Torian nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Instead, he opened his arms and beckoned her to him. She flew into them and he crushed her against his chest.

For a moment, they just stood there clinging to each other, drawing strength and comfort for what was to come. Finally, Torian spoke. “I saw a battle on a riverbank. Soon, I think. There was fresh snow on the ground.”

“Was it Sheas Harbor, do you think?” Emariya asked, taking a seat back on the bed. She was even more visibly drained now than she had been before.

Torian shook his head. Kahl spoke up, “I know most of Sheas. Can you describe it?”

Everyone listened while Torian described what he had seen. He left out the detail about Emariya’s scream bringing him out of it.

“That’s a bit south of here, where the banks narrow between the Lower Fork and the River Proper.”

“We’d go through there after we rejoined with our troops when we leave here,” Torian said.

“Where’d you leave them?” Kahl asked.

“They are supposed to make camp between the river and the Upper Fork—they will wait for us there. I’d planned to cross under the cover of trees, just below the river.”

Kahl shook his head. “You’d be heading right for them.”

Torian sighed and let his head fall back. If he waited too long, the Separatists might bring the battle to Garith instead of lying in wait.

“We’ll go down, keeping along the mountain range. We should be able to avoid them that way.”

Emariya stood up. “Let’s go, then.”

“No. Riya, you need to rest. Perhaps you should stay here while I go warn Garith and our forces.” He didn’t sound convincing even to his own ears.

“Torian, I’ll be fine. Please…don’t leave me behind.” The vulnerability in her tone cut into him almost as much as her phantom scream had only moments before.

He closed his eyes, trying to summon the strength he needed. “Riya, please. Stay here and recover your strength. You can get to know your grandparents and learn more about your gifts.”

She stubbornly shook her head. “It feels like we’ve be apart for ages. I couldn’t bear it! If you try and leave me here, I’ll only follow you.”

Torian glanced between Alara and Kahl, hoping they would back him up, but they met his look with knowing smiles. There would be no arguing with Emariya—her mind was made up.

“All right, all right.” He threw up his hands in surrender.

“I’ll pack some food,” Alara offered.

“And I’ll go get your horse ready,” Kahl said, heading for the door.

“No, I’ll see to the horse. It’ll give you all a few minutes to say your goodbyes.” Torian gave Emariya a tight smile and then slipped out the door, trying to forget the sound of her scream.

––––––––

After Torian left, Emariya turned to her grandparents with tears in her eyes. “I’ve only just found you, and now I have to go.” Her voice cracked.

Alara took her in a tender hug. “We’re just happy to have met you, child. Times are changing, I don’t know when, but we’ll see you again. This isn’t goodbye.” Her grandmother gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Stay strong, all right?”

Emariya nodded and turned to her grandfather. She hesitated for a moment, and then threw her arms around him. He was solid in her embrace, making her feel safe, like her father used to.

“I was hoping to have more time to teach you about your gifts. Another time, I suppose. We’ll send some mindroot with you. The market square at Sheas Harbor should sell some, as well. Do you have enough silver?”

“I do,” Emariya told him. “Thank you.” She looked up at him through her tears.

“Listen to my mother. Great-Grandmother Carah will guide you as much as she can. You won’t see her as long as you’re taking the mindroot, but you may hear her now and then. Trust her. Whatever path you chose, Emariya, we believe in you. Bind the Stones or don’t. It’s up to you. You don’t have to walk your mother’s way. Make your own way. And don’t let Hendel intimidate you.”

“Someday, come back, or we will find you. Then I’ll teach you to use your gifts. It takes great control, but even with the mindroot, you’ll be able to see your ancestors, learn about where you come from. That is, if you want to. The mindroot only keeps the spirits from being able to open a connection. It repels them. You can open one any time you want to if you know how. It sounds like your brother already has command of his gifts. If you’re to stand a chance against him, I fear you’ll need to embrace yours, too.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The firelight outside the tent sent flickering shadows dancing across the canvas above her. Riya and Torian had been gone nearly a week now. Jessa sighed and rolled over onto her side.

She forced her eyes closed, chasing sleep that wouldn’t come. Maybe tomorrow they would return. Hopefully, the fact that it was taking so long was an indication that they were helping Riya, not that Torian was having trouble finding the Roths. She rolled over again restlessly.

Perhaps sleep eluded her because she’d spent the better part of the day without much to do. For that matter, she hadn’t had much to do for the last several days. Without Emariya to tend to, Jessa didn’t have a role in the camp. The other servants didn’t often include her. Emariya treated her more like a friend than a servant, and at times that bred jealousy and mistrust between her and the others. She didn’t fit into the servant’s world anymore.

Before, Jessa had at least sort of felt like she and Garith fit together. Now, he’d been so busy overseeing the scouts, training, and preparations, he didn’t have any spare time to keep her company.

All of Jessa and Emariya’s gowns had been mended. Their packs lay on the other side of the tent, neat and organized. Jessa had set up her and Riya’s tent with two bedrolls so it would be ready no matter what time Emariya and Torian caught up to them. Jessa lay near the front so that Emariya would have the warmer spot away from the drafty entrance. After running out of other tasks, she’d even brushed Emariya’s filly until she almost glowed.

Rink, grateful for company, tried to convince her to spend more time with him and the horses. He told her the horse missed Riya, too. Despite her dislike of horses, Jessa believed him.

Jessa shivered. Resigning herself to the truth that Emariya wouldn’t return before morning, she gave in to the lure of the warmer spot farther inside the tent. She considered switching their beds, but the weight of the late hour tugged at her, and she crawled into Emariya’s bedroll without much hesitation.

Sleep began to lull her senses, easing her into oblivion. She’d nearly claimed victory over another sleepless night when a soft scrapping outside the tent fell on her eager ears. Had Emariya returned?

Jessa held her breath, wondering if she’d hear it again. A definitive footstep crunched in the snow.

Jessa wanted to sit up and see whom it was, but instinct cautioned her to lie still.

Through eyes narrowed to mere slits, Jessa watched unfamiliar boots step into the tent. They were too big to be Rink’s, and too small to be Garith’s. The boots paused briefly at Jessa’s empty bedroll before starting toward Emariya’s, where Jessa was laying.

Jessa’s muscles tensed, coiling into springs of a million tiny nerve endings, ready to expand at a moment’s notice. All she had to do was let herself move, but she couldn’t. Fear of the unknown kept her paralyzed. The boots were only four steps away. She’d have to figure out what to do soon. Three. Two.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Jessa unleashed a terrified scream and scrambled to her feet. In the flickering shadows, the intruder jumped back, startled by her sudden reaction.

Something clattered to the ground and Jessa’s eyes darted down. The hazy outline of a dagger was barely visible next to her now-empty bedroll.

Without thinking, Jessa dove to pick it up, clutching the handle with both hands, the pointy end out. She shoved it away from her, like a snake that might bite. Her conscience recoiled, aghast at the weapon in her hand. Only the fear that the shadowed man would reclaim it kept her clutching the handle.

“Get out!” she hollered. “Out! Garith!”

Despite her protests, the man didn’t turn to leave. Instead, he snarled and leaped toward her. He snatched at her hair, tugging sharply.

Jessa cried out in pain and nearly dropped the knife. As he jerked her head backwards using her hair for leverage, her hands, which were still gripping the wicked blade, reflexively thrust upward as she sought to maintain her balance.

Time slowed as the man sputtered out a soft moan. He gagged twice, coughing just beside Jessa’s ear. Sticky warmth spread over Jessa’s trembling hands, and at last, the hand released her hair.

Jessa watched in silent horror. The man—
By the Three, no, he was just a boy—
the boy’s eyes met Jessa’s in the dim light. A look of utter shock filled his eyes, only to be replaced almost immediately by pain.

Jessa’s gaze dropped to the dagger protruding conspicuously from his middle. His lips trembled as he sucked in a wet, gurgling breath.

“Not…blonde,” he choked out, dropping to his knees before collapsing face first onto the floor in a small, broken heap.

“I—I’m…s—sorry!” Jessa stammered. “Garith!”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Jessa mumbled over and over. Tears rushed in a torrent down her face. Footsteps rushed toward her tent as she tried to wipe away the tears. Instead, she felt the sticky marks her fingers left on her face and smelled the sweetly sour blood from her hands. Her stomach heaved, curling into a sour knot of revulsion.

Garith burst into the tent just as she retched.

––––––––

Peering through the light cast from his lantern, Garith asked, “Jessa, are you all right?” His eyes moved around the tent, taking in the still form on the ground, the streaks of blood on Jessa’s face, and her crimson hands. He shuddered as he put his arms around her. “What the hell happened?”

She trembled violently in his arms and buried her face against him. Garith turned to the guards who’d followed him in the mad dash to the tent. “Check the rest of the camp—now!” he commanded. “I want the perimeter patrols relieved and summoned immediately. I’ll speak with them as soon as I deal with…this.” He gestured to the grisly scene before him, praying they couldn’t hear the uncertainty in his tone.

“Jessa,” he prodded, gripping her shoulders and moving away to get a better look at her. She continued to tremble, looking past him in an unseeing stare while tears made their way down her face, leaving washed out tracks in the bloody smears on her cheeks.

He tried again. “Jessa.”

After she didn’t respond that time, either, he commanded sternly, “Jessa, answer me!” She startled and shook her head, as if trying to clear it before staring up at him with her doe eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

Very slightly, she nodded. “I’m not hurt, I don’t think,” she whispered.

“All right, let’s get you cleaned up, then.” Putting a sheltering arm around her shoulder, he led her out of the tent toward his own while looking around for a servant.

Not seeing any, he caught the eye of the first soldier he saw. “Find Rink. Tell him to bring a basin of water and a clean gown to the command tent. And send someone to deal with the mess in there.” He jerked his head toward Emariya and Jessa’s shared tent.

“Yes, Milord.” The man ran off.

Her trembling didn’t cease even after he had her wrapped in the thickest blanket he could find in the command tent. “I killed him,” she said in a voice that cut him to the quick.

He looked her in the eye. Even though he suspected the man had still been breathing, he doubted he would be for long. It wouldn’t do to offer her false comfort. “You saved yourself. There’s a difference.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s just as dead.” Sobs wracked her body.

The soldier he’d sent to find Rink hurried into the tent. “Milord, we can’t find Rink.”

Jessa stopped sniffling. “Oh, by The Three… Rink.”

“Find a servant, then. Get me some damned water. And keep looking for him!” Garith ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it off his face in aggravation.

A few minutes later, a servant appeared. Lukewarm water sloshed inside the bucket the woman lugged with her. Garith excused himself while she set about the task of getting Jessa cleaned up.

He gulped in a lungful of crisp, clean air, away from the cloying scent of blood surrounding his friend’s handmaiden. Thank The Three Emariya hadn’t been there. If something had happened to her… Though she’d likely have his hide for letting this happen.

But how had it happened? Garith squared his jaw, striding off into the camp to find the soldiers assigned to patrol the perimeter.

He didn’t have to go far to find them. The group of six assigned to patrol trudged towards him with their shoulders slumped. Fleeting looks passed between the six sullen men before one stepped forward. “Is Lady Warren’s maid unharmed?”

Garith gave a measured response. “She’s not been physically harmed.”

Each of the men nodded their relief, though their faces remained tense.

“What I am struggling to understand is how this happened.” Garith fixed each of them in turn with a hard stare. “Were my instructions not explicitly clear?”

The soldier who’d inquired after Jessa answered, “They were.”

“So you chose to disregard them, then?” Garith’s anger flared, and he struggled to shove it back down.

“No, sir. We patrolled, just as you said,” the same guard said.

One of the other soldiers stepped forward. “Don’t blame them. It was my failing.”

Garith admired his courage. “How so?”

“You told us to be wary of threats, that no one we didn’t recognize was to be permitted.”

“And yet I’ve a man inside My Lady’s tent? It would seem that you were not wary enough.”

“Exactly, sir. I saw him come in, but by his size, I thought it was the Eltar lad. Rink.” The guard’s eyes blinked slowly before he stood tall. “I’ll shoulder the blame—please don’t punish the rest of them.”

“The boy flits in and around the camp often enough. He’s a restless sort,” one of the other soldiers said in support of his friend.

“You are a team, are you not? You were assigned a shared task. A broken link is more than just a broken link; it is a broken chain. The entire unit is compromised.” Garith wracked his brain. He couldn’t let this deed go unpunished, but perhaps he could use it to garner more respect.

The soldier who’d taken responsibility swallowed. “I’ll get my things.”

Garith startled. “Your things?”

“Might I take them with me, sir? On my way back to the castle? You are sending me back as punishment, are you not?”

Garith’s lips tightened into a thin line. “No. I believe you are missing my point. You are a small part of a large team. If you fail to do your duty, you threaten us all. But I believe by your willingness to accept blame that you are capable of being a responsible, competent soldier.”

Gratitude flooded the guard’s tired eyes. “You won’t regret this, sir. Thank you.”

“Get yourselves to Lady Warren’s tent. It needs to be disassembled, burned, and replaced. Her things need to be washed until I can no longer smell the evidence of your failing.”

One of the guards who’d been silent thus far scoffed, “That’s a servants duty!”

Garith’s face twisted into a rueful smile. “When maids do the work of soldiers in protecting our camp from intruders, soldiers do the work of maids.”

Turning to return to Jessa, Garith decided he’d have them do the meal preparations for the foreseeable future, until a time came when he could trust them to take up the duty of patrolling once more. Or would the servants then resent him, feeling like he’d given their duties away? Garith sighed and shook his head, his heart aching with loneliness for his friend.

The servant left to tend Jessa ducked out of the command tent with a bloodied heap of cloth held distended before her, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head.

“Just burn that,” Garith said. “Is she ready for me to return?”

“She’s clothed, if that’s what you mean. Perhaps you’ll have better luck calming her than I.” The servant hurried away.

Praying for a few quiet moments to tend to Jessa, Garith steeled himself and entered the tent. The only change that had occurred during his absence, as far as he could tell, was her clean gown and freshly scrubbed cheeks. Tears continued to fall silently down her pale skin, though the bloody handprints had been washed away. She hiccupped between sobs, the sound reminding him of a dying mouse.

Before he could say a word, the tent flap opened behind him.

In marched Rink, his chest puffed out proudly like a rooster about to crow. Behind him, bound and tied between two soldiers, stood an unfamiliar man.

“Rink!” Jessa exclaimed before she withered into sobs again.

Garith glanced back at her, exhausted and clueless at how to help her before he turned his attention back to Rink. “Where’d you get yourself off to? We were worried! There was an intruder in Emariya’s tent. Jessa… Where were you?”

“I was coming to see if you wanted me to fetch your supper.” Rink jutted a finger at the man. “I saw
him
ducking out of Torian’s tent. I chased him down—was doing all right, too. Then these two came along and helped.” He waved dismissively, indicating the two soldiers. A knowing look passed between the soldiers over Rink’s shorter head.

The one on the left flashed Garith a grin. “Where do you want him?”

Garith thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before he’d be able to have Jessa settled, but he needed to know what the intruders had been after. “Rink, do you think you can take Jessa to my tent and stay with her?”

“I will protect her with my life,” the boy vowed solemnly.

“I’ll come check on you just as soon as I am able.” He gave Jessa’s arm a little squeeze.

Still in a trance, the redheaded girl let Rink guide her out of the tent.