The Healing Wars: Book II: Blue Fire (18 page)

“The Undying will come in first, won’t they?” I held the twine as Ellis hammered a nail into the wall.

Jeatar nodded, hope brightening his eyes.

“Then I need all of you to stay back,” I said. “That wall there should do it.” I pointed to the corner, also out of sight of the stairs until someone stepped into the room. Danello and Aylin nodded, but Onderaan shook his head.

“Nya, this isn’t something you can hide from. We’ve been training for this.”

“Let her handle it,” Jeatar said, waving the others away. “We just got lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Nya’s special.” He gave me a brief smile. “She’s the only person I know who has nothing to fear from the Undying.”

Not if they had pain in their armor. If not, then I’d be the first one skewered. Either way, I guess I’d have pain to use.

A thump came from upstairs and we all quieted. Jeatar doused the last lamps and everyone waited in the dark. Another thump, then a crash, like the door being broken down. Cautious footsteps thudded above us—a lot of footsteps. Voices, an order of
some kind, though I couldn’t make out the words.

Hesitant steps changed, becoming louder. Heavy crashes as if furniture were being knocked over or thrown around. Searching. They were searching the villa.

Sweat trickled down my spine. The dark pressed on me, and even though I knew the darkness would protect me better than anything else, I still wanted the light.

Banging at the top of the stairs. Smaller thuds, books being yanked off a shelf and hitting the floor. A joyous cry.

They’d found the secret door.

B
reaths quickened all around me, echoing in the dark cellar. I flexed my fingers, ready to pounce. Harder cracks on the door, like an axe against wood, and the door splintered. Wood chunks skipped down the stairs, clicking from step to step.

“Looks like a cellar,” a man said quietly.

I almost smiled. After all that noise, he really thought he had to keep his voice down?

“Lamps. You two, take point.”

The soldiers came down the stairs, their footsteps ahead of the lamplight. When the yellow glow flickered on the wall, I raised my hands, slid closer. I heard faint shuffles behind me as the rest lifted weapons and prepared.

Shadows, more light, louder footsteps. Almost to the trip wire.

“Ah!” The first soldier fell, the lamp flying out of his hand, splashing oil and fire onto the rug. I jumped onto his back and pinned him down, then slapped my hands against the Undying trying hard to keep his balance.
Please have pain in there.

Whoomp!

I said a silent prayer as pain tingled along my arms and face. The soldiers on the stairs screamed and dropped, then rolled down the steps. Lamps fell with them, oil spilling and catching hair and uniforms. Soldiers outside the range of the flash cried out. Those only dazed beat at the flames and scrambled away.

“They’ve got pynvium rods!”

“Move back,” a voice ordered. “I’m going down.”

So far, so good. I stepped around the edge of the wall. Neeme darted forward and grabbed the fallen lamp, stamping out the flames with her foot. In seconds, the room was dark again, with only a soft glow lighting the base of the stairs.

And the shadow of someone
big
moving down those stairs. He stopped just before the trip wire. Stood there.

My hands twitched. Why wasn’t he moving?
If we really had had pynvium rods, we could have flashed him five times by now. Unless…

“They’re out of pain,” he said, and stepped over the trip wire and into the room.

I moved forward, away from the protection of the wall. Light cut through the dark, right at my eyes. I jerked back and covered my face. Saints, he must have opened a lamp right in front of me!

Whoomp!

Pain washed over me, but it was the light that hurt. I blinked away tears and lunged forward. My hands slapped against—chain armor.

Uh-oh
.

He grabbed me, lifted, and threw me across the room like I was one of the lamps. I crashed into the table, pain flaring along my ribs, then hit the floor. Soldiers poured down the stairs. Some carried lamps; the rest, swords.

I didn’t hear Jeatar order an attack, but he must have. He ran to meet the soldiers, Ellis and Onderaan right behind him, the others a few steps behind them. They looked like spirits, pale and eerie in the bobbing lamplight.

Back on my feet, I searched the wave of soldiers for blue metal. Found a few, but it was too risky to flash them in the room with the others. I headed
for the stairwell, staying low, moving fast, trying to avoid the swinging swords and darting blades.

A soldier caught me in the side, his sword cutting easily through shirt and skin. I grabbed him, forcing my fingers under his collar, and
pushed.
He yanked away. I kept moving, was pierced by another blade, this time in my shoulder. I swallowed my cry and grabbed the woman’s face with both hands.
Pushed
again. She screamed and staggered.

“Shifter,” she yelled, sounding scared. “The Shifter’s down here!”

I reached the stairs and found two Undying. One cut me across the chest, the other sliced my thigh. I got one hand on each before I fell.

Whoomp-whoomp!

Soldiers dropped in the stairwell. I grabbed the closest skin and
pushed
away the burning cuts, the stinging wounds. My churning stomach didn’t fade so easily—these soldiers definitely had access to Healers and pynvium. They’d be up and fighting again soon.

“Nya!”

Jeatar. I turned and ran down, crawling over the semiconscious soldiers. Jeatar fought against two, one Undying, one regular. Blood stained Jeatar’s shirt, and from the way he was staggering, it had to
be his. The Undying feinted and plunged the sword into his chest a breath before I reached him.

I grabbed the Undying’s armor and pictured dandelions blowing in the wind. Pain flashed, brought down the soldier next to him as well as Jeatar. I shoved the dazed Undying against the wall and he collapsed. The floor was slick with Jeatar’s blood, pooling too fast beneath him. I picked up his hand and the arm of the unconscious soldier who had tried to kill him.
Drew
and
pushed.

Jeatar groaned and sat up. He smiled weakly at me, blood smeared across his face but no longer bleeding. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

We helped each other to our feet. There was so much fighting now. Aylin and Tussen worked in the rear, Aylin dragging the injured away and Tussen healing them to fight some more. Sorg and the other enchanters swung their swords like forge hammers, but they hit hard enough to make people cautious.

Jeatar rejoined the fray, moving like a cat through the dark, his sword flashing, his targets dropping. Ellis and Onderaan guarded and flanked him, cutting through their own share of soldiers.

The Undying alternated, some fighting while others healed the injured, same as we were doing.
Except they did it faster. They could heal themselves and fight at the same time.

We were going to lose if we kept fighting like this—hurt and heal, hurt and heal. They could do it better, and we wouldn’t be able to keep up. They’d outnumber us before long. I had to flash faster. Crumble their armor, turn it to fine sand, and even the odds.

“They need more pain,” I told Danello as I ducked past him, going for the Undying by the stairs again. I had no idea if he understood, but he nodded and kept fighting.

I dived, rolled, bled, flashed. Tried to focus on the same soldiers, but in the weird light it was impossible to tell them apart. It felt like we’d been fighting for hours, but I knew it was a lie my muscles were telling me. I wasn’t the only one tired. Jeatar didn’t move so catlike anymore, and the enchanters fell faster.

An Undying’s blade sank into my belly. I yelped and flattened my hands against her armor.

Whoomp.

Less pain flashed, barely enough to force her back a step. Fine sand ran down my fingers as she pulled away. Her chest plate crumbled, turning to dust, flashed one too many times.

I gritted my teeth and reached for her, missed, fell to my knees. She was still moving, panic in her voice now, though I had to focus to make out the words through the roar in my ears.

“She destroyed my armor!”

My stomach burned, but it was a cold fire, creeping out and numbing me. My knees buckled, refusing to carry me to her exposed skin. Soldiers moved toward me, fear and excitement on their faces. Not the Undying, though. They were staying away.

I struggled to stay awake, stand up, find flesh.

Swords caught the light. Two of them, coming at me out of the dark. I didn’t see who held them, just dim blurs of blue and gray.

Clang!

Another blade stopped one, my shoulder stopped the other. I screamed and fell over. Booted feet passed above my head and another sword clanged. Hands grabbed me, dragged me.

“I got you, hang on.”

Pressure and warmth on my skin. Then tingling fire. My head cleared, my vision snapped back. The cold and fire vanished.

“That was close,” Tussen said, my blood still on his hands.

Too close. “Thank you.”

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“Just keep healing.”

I scrambled back out. Flashed another Undying and a piece of his armor turned to sand—a bracer this time.

“You can’t win this,” I said as they paused in their onslaught. They weren’t so invincible anymore. Of course, we weren’t doing so well either. “You’ll be defenseless soon. Might as well give up now.”

The big man who’d tossed me across the room squared his shoulders. “Aim for her head. Kill her before she can shift.”

My chest tightened. They hadn’t been trying to kill me all along?

“Sergeant, orders are to take her alive.”

I didn’t see who said it, but he sounded nervous about speaking out.

“Accidents happen.” He lunged, faster than I thought anyone fighting this long could. I dived sideways. Jeatar and Danello charged forward. Steel met steel as I hit the floor.

The soldiers pressed forward. I crawled away. Onderaan parried a blade meant for me, Sorg took one meant for him. The Underground and the enchanters closed around me, protecting me.

Click—click—click…

A noise, metal on stone, barely reaching me over the grunts and groans and clashes. Something falling, dropping…rolling?

WHOOMP!

My skin prickled. Screams on both sides echoed in the cellar. Bodies fell, swords clattering to the floor. Footsteps on the stairs. A disapproving
tsk tsk tsk
.

“I don’t like people who ignore orders, Sergeant,” Vyand said, stepping over him on her way into the room. Stewwig and more men followed behind her, in full chain armor, with almost no exposed skin at all. Not an Undying in the bunch.

I got to my feet, my arms still stinging a bit. A grapefruit-size pynvium ball lay on the floor. After that flash, I doubted it had pain, but it would hurt something awful if I hit somebody with it. I moved half a step toward it. Three soldiers moved a step toward me. I stopped.

“Nice weapon,” I said to Vyand. I couldn’t get past her. I had nothing to flash. I wasn’t close enough to any of the unconscious Undying to flash
them
.

“Handy, isn’t it?”

It was better than handy. “Why didn’t you use that first and save us all this fighting?”

“Had I been here, I would have.” She chuckled and flicked a hand at some soldiers. They started
lighting the lamps. “Do you really think I’d send Undying after
you
?”

“I don’t understand.”

“And how dangerous you would be if you did.”

“What?”

She sighed and smoothed her perfect hair. “After I lost you
yet again
, the Duke refused to lend me any more soldiers. I did plant a spy in the foundry before I left, just in case you weren’t really gone. Lucky for me I did. I’d have been here sooner, but the idiot apprentice got lost after he left you, and it took him a while to find me. I made it here in time, though.” She looked around the much brighter room. So much blood. “Barely, from the looks of this.”

I clenched my hands. The apprentice! The one who’d reached the villa’s gates and had been “too scared” to come inside. That liar.

Vyand flicked a hand again and four more men came forward, one carrying rope and the rest holding swords at my throat and heart. Stewwig never left her side. His gaze never left me.

“Hold out your hands, wrists together, fingers in fists, please,” she said.

I glared at her. She sighed.

“Don’t make me kill someone just to get your attention.”

I held out my hands. One man looped a rope around them, binding my wrists tight.

“Lower them.”

I did. Another rope was tied around me, pinning my arms down. Vyand’s men knotted the ropes extra tight with double knots. Next they tied my feet. They’d have to carry me out, but that seemed to be the plan.

“Get her hands.”

Another man stepped forward and wrapped my hands with a long narrow cloth. Sweat dotted his brow while he did it, as if he was afraid I’d suddenly be able to bend my hands backward and touch him.

Vyand finally stepped forward, a smile on her face. “Now, let’s try this again, shall we? I hereby bind you for, well, more crimes than I have time to list. And this time, you are
not
getting away from me.”

“W
hat about the others?” one of her men asked.

“Leave them. If I capture her friends again, she’ll just work that much harder to escape.” She stepped closer and lifted my fake braid. “Interesting. Black suits you.”

“Same color as your heart.”

She chuckled and dropped the braid. “Bring the horses around,” she told one of the men, who nodded and darted up the stairs. Vyand flicked fingers at two other men, and they picked me up. They followed her, leaving everyone else behind. Stewwig stayed between me and her.

“You’re really leaving them here?”

She ignored me.

Did she mean it, or would she come back for them after I was gone?

We walked out of the ruined bookcase door and into the library. Through the hall and into the main foyer, light shining through the latticework in the teardrop inset above the door. Horses whinnied. Vyand opened the door, and cool air and rain gusted in, dampening the floor. So did the smell of smoke.

They carried me outside. Rain misted, the air hazy in the pale morning light. Hard to tell without the sun, but it looked like it was a few hours after dawn, midmorning at the latest. It felt like days had passed since we’d destroyed the foundry instead of just hours.

A horse-drawn carriage waited in the drive. A young boy opened the door and Vyand climbed in, then Stewwig. The men hauled me up and propped me on the seat across from her like a doll, then took seats on either side.

“Where are you taking me?”

“If I tell you, will you shut up?”

I considered it. “Probably not.”

She chuckled and smoothed her hair into place again. Not that anything more than a hair had been
out
of place. “You’ve got iron in you, girl. In another
life, we could have been friends.”

“Probably not.”

She laughed, and her men joined her. “I’m taking you to the Duke. Once I hand you over, you’ll be
his
problem.” She learned toward the window. Smoke still rose into the air where the foundry was. “And from the looks of things, not his only one.”

The Duke. I had to escape, but Vyand wasn’t like the others. She didn’t look at me and see a weak girl. The number of guards and amount of rope proved that.

We rode through the streets, which grew more crowded the closer we got to the inner wall. Soldiers, rioters, people running from both. The foundry wasn’t the only building on fire.

“What happened?” Had Siekte tried to assassinate the Duke after all? Did she get the rest of the Underground to attack?

“People tend to get very unhappy when soldiers break down their doors and rifle through their things.”

“They’re rebelling?”

She shook her head. “That would require fore-thought. No, these people are just angry. Though I suspect some are taking advantage of the chaos. I suppose there might be a full rebellion by sunset.”

The carriage slowed and a man swung down to the window. “It’s too crowded to get through here. We’ll have to go another way.”

“Try going in through the stable. And kill anyone who even
looks
like they’re going to rush this carriage.” She grinned at me. “That trick won’t work again.”

That particular trick hadn’t been mine. Not that I
had
any tricks, old or new, in mind, anyway.

“What will happen to the others if the Undying wake up before they do?” They’d be helpless.

She shrugged. “Whatever Vinnot’s ghouls decide.”

Not good. He’d lock up Sorg and the other enchanters again. Force Tussen and Enzie and the others…

Enzie!

She was still hiding in the room with Jovan, Bahari, Halima, and Winvik. They had to have been listening to the fight. They must have heard Vyand, known that I was gone. No way Jovan wouldn’t do something after that. Enzie might even be able to heal Tussen and get the rest on their feet before the Undying ever woke up.

Please, Saint Saea, let them save the others.

Vyand cocked her head and watched me with
questioning eyes. “You’re hopeful again,” she said. “What did you just figure out?”

“You really think I’m stupid enough to tell you?”

“Not at all.” She grinned and leaned back. “But you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“You know what they say about curiosity.”

“Lucky for me, I’m not a cat.”

The carriage kept turning corners, tacking across the growing mob. Eventually we rolled into a stable with more soldiers than horses. Too many guards for one stable. Maybe the riot was getting worse.

Vyand climbed out first and ducked under the cover of a bright green awning, vanishing into the stable with a few quick strides. Her men dragged me out like a sack of coffee, standing in the courtyard with me hanging between them. After a minute Vyand came out of the stall area and waved us over.

Horses nickered, lifting their heads and staring as I was carried by. The stable looked well kept, but it didn’t look fancy enough to house the Duke’s horses.

We reached the rear and a young soldier opened a stall door. We went inside and Vyand drew a dark blue hood from a box on the wall.

“Before you ask, this”—she dangled the hood—“is so you don’t see anything.”

See what? A stable with too many soldiers?

She pulled the hood over my head, but not before I saw the young solider pull on a wall sconce and heard the rear of the stall click open. Dank air blew out past me from the dark. Probably a secret way into—and out of—the palace. I could imagine the Duke sneaking off in the middle of the night, maybe even meeting Vinnot at the foundry to check up on his experiments and weapons.

Vyand tightened the hood around my neck, as if seeing the light flicker below me could give me enough clues to help me trace my way back should I escape. That she thought I might cheered me up a little.

Her men carried me into the passageway. It sounded like hard stone under their booted feet, then quiet splashing, as if walking through puddles. They walked for a long time, and though I tried to keep track of turns, it was impossible without having my feet on the ground. Eventually we stopped and metal jangled. A scratch and a snick, like a lock in a door, then we were moving again.

Splashes on stone turned to thumps on stone, then padded steps that likely meant soft carpet, then
stone again. We followed stairs up and down. Doors opened and closed, and still no one said a word. We had to be in the palace by now. It smelled clean, not at all like the dank plant smell from the passage. I wondered if they were walking me in circles to confuse me.

A soft knock, then murmured voices.

“Sir, I have the Shifter,” Vyand said, and my hood was yanked off.

“About time,” a man muttered.

I blinked in the light of a plain, round room with a few benches and a small writing table. A room you passed through or waited in, not a place you spent any time in. Unless you were a soldier. A half dozen men in chain armor stood along the walls, watching me and everything that moved.

Vyand’s satisfied smirk vanished. “She was exceedingly difficult to capture.”

“So you kept telling me,” said the man in front of me. Mid-fifties. Thinning black hair, combed straight back. Gray-blue eyes. Fine clothes. An ocean-blue pynvium circlet with a sapphire stone circled his head.

The Duke.

Anger burned me.
This
was the man who’d hurt us, who’d killed so many, stolen so much? His body
was too thin to bear armor, his shoulders not broad enough for a sword. His cheeks were drawn, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep. No wonder he’d had to steal everything he had. He couldn’t possibly win it in a fair fight.

I lifted my chin. “You’re a murdering thief who’s ruined lives and destroyed cities, and you should hang yourself on your own gallows while people cheer.”

Vyand shot me an amused look. She’d probably root for me when I tried to escape this time.

The Duke glared, his eyes narrowing. “No doubts that it’s her?” he said to Vyand. I bristled. This was my enemy and he wouldn’t even acknowledge me.

“None, sir. As you can see, she’s…unmistakable…once you get to know her.”

“Fine. Leave her.” He indicated a wooden bench by the wall. “Your fee is on the table there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The soldiers took me from Vyand and propped me up on the bench. “How can you work for him?” I asked them. “He burned an entire city to the ground just so he could steal the throne.”

They ignored me, but the Duke’s face reddened. Good.

“Which of your brothers was supposed to rule? Did it matter, or did killing them both just make you feel safer?”

“Get those ropes off her,” he said, words clipped. “I’m not wasting good men to cart her around and listen to her nonsense.”

Vyand raised an eyebrow. “That’s not advis—”

“Do it.”

“Very well, sir.”

One of her soldiers cut the ropes holding my feet and arms. He left the one around my wrists. Vyand stepped forward and pulled the cloths off my hands, then looked at me and winked.

“Dismissed,” the Duke said.

Vyand dipped her head and left the room. I could swear I heard her snicker as she closed the door.

The Duke walked over to me, his eyes bright with excitement.

“So—you’re the Shifter.”

He clearly didn’t want an answer. “And you’re something a reed rat coughed up.”

He slapped me. I grinned, my cheek stinging.

“That didn’t even hurt.”

“Bold, isn’t she?” said another well-dressed man standing by the window. Older than the Duke, but not by much. Gray hair, same eyes though. A family
member? He studied me like I’d seen farmers judge livestock.

“Too bold,” the Duke agreed. I stuck out my tongue and his hands clenched.

“Hit me again, I dare you.” Stabbing would be better. More pain to shift. I bet I could reach him before the guards stopped me.

The well-dressed man put a hand on the Duke’s shoulder. “She’s baiting you.”

“I know that!”

“A lot of hope to put on one small girl, even if she is bold.”

“See that blood on her? Those cuts and tears on her clothes? Vyand’s men did that, but they’re the ones hurting now.”

Vyand’s men? He must not know about the Undying’s attack on the Underground. Then he hadn’t known where I was! Maybe Aylin and the others could still escape and get to Jeatar’s farm.

And Tali?

Maybe I didn’t need to sneak into the Taker camps after all. Just like me, the Duke was a better prize. I might be able to end this war right here. I’d learned a lot about kidnapping folks, and if I could capture the Duke, I could give him to Jeatar and we could force the Taker camps to let everyone go—including Tali.

“Trust me, there’s not a mark on her anymore.”

Except my new scars. I’d gladly earn some more if it gave me enough pain to shift into the Duke.

“The Undying can also heal themselves,” the man said.

“They can’t do this.” The Duke pulled something out of his pocket. Pynvium.

Whoomp.

I glared at him as pain prickled my skin. A lot for such a small rod of pynvium, but it was ocean blue, probably pure.

“That tickled,” I said, scowling. He lifted the rod again. I winced and threw my hands up, putting the rope in front of the flash. It probably wouldn’t do much, but it might weaken the ropes a little.

Whoomp.

“Still tickled,” I said.

The Duke turned red again and put the rod away. “Have you ever seen anything like that, Erken?”

“No, such immunity is quite remarkable.”

“No one will dare threaten me anymore.”

I scoffed. “Don’t count on it.”

Erken didn’t look convinced, even if he did look impressed with me. “If it works.”

“It’ll work.” The Duke folded his arms across his chest, his hands still clenched. “Tell Vinnot to
get ready. I want a test as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.” One of the aides nodded and vanished through another door.

If
what
worked? The device that had hurt Enzie and the others? Couldn’t be—that was destroyed in the foundry fire. Wasn’t it?

“Nothing you do will matter, you know,” I said. “Everyone hates you. Every day, fewer fear you. You can’t hide what you are for much longer.”

The Duke smirked. Not the reaction I was poking for. “Now that I have you, I won’t have to hide at all.”

A woman in a blue and silver uniform approached the Duke. “Sir? Vinnot’s ready.”

“Excellent. Sergeant, bring the Shifter.”

The soldier on my left yanked me toward a door on the other side of the room. Only then did I notice the faint vibrations under my feet and the hum in the air.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Not so bold now, is she?” the Duke said. “Careful with her—she’s not replaceable like the others.”

“What are you going to do with me?” I struggled against the soldier, but it was like wrestling with a tree. He dragged me through the door and into the other room. “Tell me!”

“You’re happier not knowing,” a man said. It took me a moment to place the face. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been lying on the floor outside the spire room at the Healers’ League.

“Vinnot,” I said. I glared at the man who’d filled Tali so full of pain she couldn’t move, who’d experimented on Takers. Who’d created the Undying and sent them out to kill.

“I see my reputation precedes me.” He grinned, then continued making notes on a pad. Behind him was…

Something.

Pynvium for sure, but a misshapen mix of it, from pure ocean blue to an almost useless blue-gray, and a strange silvery blue metal I’d never seen before. The whole thing was big, a disk maybe six feet in diameter and a foot thick, resting on some kind of stone pedestal waist high off the floor. A spire grew from the center like wax melted from a candle, made from both the silvery blue metal and pynvium in varying purity. Halfway up the spire was a hole about the size of my arm, perfectly round and smooth. Evenly spaced along the disk were curved channels, about arm size, with thinner bands that curved above them, almost like cuffs. Lots of them.

It holds us, hurts us….

I counted. Twelve channels. There’d been six Takers in the foundry. Saints, they
were
cuffs. I pictured six Takers with their arms in those channels, locked down to that disk. Holding them, hurting them.