To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) (20 page)

She stumbled at the bottom of the stairs and nearly tripped on a piece of burning debris. Her rescuer grabbed her arms to keep her steady and pulled her forward. A loud crash from above sent sparks and ash raining down on them as they sprinted for an opening in the wall. The building shuddered and another crash rang out behind them as they dived out into the street.

“Cecily!” a voice called out as she lay gasping, the stones cold and hard under her face. Someone grabbed under her arms and pulled her forward, away from the burning inn as she coughed and sputtered, struggling for air. They turned her over on her back, and cradled her head.

A cool cloth pressed gently to her eyes and forehead, more wet cloth on her arms. She breathed deep of the clean air as her coughs subsided. Footsteps fell around her, people moving quickly. The sounds of yelling and commotion shifted into focus as her mind cleared. She coughed again and pressed the fabric to her eyes to wipe the burning tears.

A billowing black cloud of smoke shrouded the stars as the Boar’s Head raged with fire. Orange and yellow flames spit out the windows and engulfed the walls and roof. The entire building was a roaring blaze. A fire brigade had arrived; Wielders Pulled water through a long tube and sprayed it on the flames.

Someone took the cloth from her and dipped it in a bucket before handing it back to her. She squinted, her eyes still burning from the smoke, to find her head in Griff’s lap. His face was smudged with soot, but he smiled and helped her sit up.

“What happened? Did everyone get out?” she asked, her voice hoarse and her throat dry.

Griff nodded to the side and Cecily looked over to find Serv seated on the ground nearby, a strip of fabric bunched around his neck. Edson sat next to him and rubbed his eyes and face. Serv’s forehead was black, his cheeks flushed and red.

“Can’t say I remember making it back to my room after dinner,” Griff said. “But I woke up choking on smoke. We all got out and realized you must still be inside. Before any of us could form a thought, Serv burst in there.” He gestured at the ruined building. “He was gone for what felt like hours. I thought for sure the two of you weren’t coming out.” He took a shuddering breath and blew it out through pursed lips. “Damn amazing thing, seeing you two come flying out of that inferno.”

Edson came over and crouched in front of her. “Are you hurt?” he asked, worry plain on his face.

Cecily looked down at herself. The skin on her arms was red and raw, but she didn’t see any serious burns. “No, I think I’m okay.” He handed her a waterskin and she drank deeply of the cool liquid. It soothed her dry throat, but it still hurt to breathe.

Serv turned his head and met her gaze. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared at him, and the enormity of what he had done washed over her. He rose and helped her to her feet. She opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say or how she could possibly thank him. He pressed his lips in a small smile and shook his head. Still holding her hand, he raised it and covered it with his other hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered. He let go of her hand and gave her a small nod.

The Wielders appeared to be winning the battle. The flames died down as the building billowed smoke into the night sky. People milled about watching, some tending to the wounded while others stood in pairs, holding each other as they watched the inn burn.

Griff stood up next to her and gently lifted her hand to inspect the burns on her arm. “These will sting something fierce, but you don’t look too bad,” he said.

She nodded. “How did this happen?”

He shrugged. “The fire started downstairs, probably in the kitchen. Spread through the building quick. Cecily, I’m sorry, I didn’t think we’d had quite so much wine. I still feel all muddled, but I suppose that could be the smoke.”

“It wasn’t the smoke, or the wine,” Serv said, his voice quiet. He turned toward them. “We were drugged.”

Cecily’s eyes shot toward her friend. “How do you know?”

“Where I come from, these things are common. Many of my warrior brothers and I took it upon ourselves to build immunity to such narcotics, to protect us from these cowardly attacks. I’m familiar with the effects. I only wish I had realized it sooner.”

“But why, and who… and how?” Griff sputtered.

Serv shook his head. “The likely answer is in our wine. As to who or why, that I don’t know.”

“My door was welded shut,” Cecily said. Serv looked at her, his brow furrowed. “That’s why I couldn’t get out. The lock, the doorknob, and the hinges, they were all melted. There’s no way the fire was hot enough to do that.”

“What do you mean?” Griff asked.

“I think I can answer the question of why. Someone is trying to kill me.”

20. THE QUARRY

“You should have told me,” Callum said.

Cecily looked up. “What?”

Callum rolled his eyes. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?” He paced around the room, agitated, and gestured as he spoke. “You didn’t tell me about the man you saw, the one who ran from you. That was days ago. Were you planning on saying anything? And last night you buried yourself in wine. I realize things aren’t exactly going well, but drinking yourself into a stupor isn’t going to help.”

Cecily sighed and rubbed her eyes. Her head felt heavy, her thoughts thick and slow. She hadn’t slept much after the fire, and although it was midmorning the next day, the effect of the drug was still in her system. “I didn’t bury myself in wine. Someone drugged me, unless you’d like to doubt Serv’s word.” Her eyes flicked to Serv, who sat on a barrel at the edge of the gray stone room, sharpening his sword. Callum raised his eyebrows at her. No one doubted Serv’s word, not even Callum. “I can’t even be sure of who I saw. I only saw him for a moment, but I could have sworn his eyes looked like the eyes of the man who attacked me after Daro was taken.”

“But he obviously ran from you and someone helped him escape,” Sumara said gently. She had arrived in the middle of the night. Cecily still wasn’t sure how she’d gotten word of the fire. Their other companions had trickled in throughout the morning, each expressing their alarm at what had happened and their relief that none of them had been seriously hurt.

“This is all connected,” Callum said and wagged his finger as he walked back and forth across the stone floor. “The men you saw, the fire, and I am telling you, the damn smugglers. They are all connected.” Callum had appeared at the scene of the fire, melting out of the shadows, and quietly ushered them away. Cecily had only a vague memory of following Callum, but she’d woken up after a few fitful hours of sleep realizing he had taken her to the Quarry.

Deep beneath southern Halthas, the Quarry was a labyrinth of stone tunnels and rooms. Stone Shapers had extracted a great mass of stone south of the river to rebuild the city walls and defenses after the Attalonian invasion. As they’d quarried the stone, they’d created a series of tunnels to preserve the land above. When work was complete, the entrances had been sealed and the tunnel system faded into obscurity. Cecily didn’t know who had rediscovered the underground complex, but Callum and others in the Underground used it extensively. During the war it had been an indispensable location, offering them protection and concealment. It was unnerving listening to their voices echo off the stone walls, feeling the damp air on her skin. It reminded her too keenly of their days fighting Hadran.

“I think we all agree on the connection,” said Sumara. “Someone clearly isn’t pleased that you made it out of the woods after Daro was taken.”

Cecily shook her head. “I wonder if he knew I was still alive, or if he thought I drowned in that river.”
And does he know I got out of the inn?

“How can you be certain it was the same men who attacked you after Daro was taken?” Alastair cut in. “You only saw the one, and you said yourself, you can’t be sure his eyes were different. We don’t have very much to go on.”

“Do you know any Wielders who can push back on someone’s ability like that?” Cecily snapped. Her head ached. “He can Shield like no one I’ve ever encountered. What are the chances there are two men out there who can do that?”

“That may be a fair point, but you don’t seem particularly sure of yourself, Cecily,” Alastair said.

Callum’s head whipped toward Alastair. “She was almost killed last night. You could cut her a little slack.”

“I was merely pointing out that, by Cecily’s own admission, she can’t be certain the man she saw in the city was connected to Daro’s disappearance. And we don’t know that the fire was an attempt on her life.”

Callum’s mouth opened and he paused to look around the room at the others. “Are you serious? Palace life is turning you into an idiot, Alastair. She had to chase this guy through the streets. What was he running from? I think he knew who she was. How could he not be connected to Daro? Do you know a lot of folks with eyes like that? Because I don’t, and I know a lot of people. Then a Sensor shows up and Shields long enough for them to disappear. I know the strength of Cecily’s Wielding isn’t supposed to be common knowledge, but we all know how strong she is. No one else can Shield that well, not against her.”

Alastair opened his mouth to answer, but Callum pressed on. “As if that weren’t enough, someone just tried to kill her; and it almost worked.” He walked across the room again, ticking points off on his finger. “Paid someone to drug them. Melted the damn hinges. By the gods, Alastair, what more do you want before we act? You want to pull her body out of an alley before we do something about this?”

Cecily’s heart rate rose and a sudden shot of adrenaline made her jittery. Sumara shifted in her seat, and Alastair sat across from her with his jaw rigid. The tension in the room was thick, anger bubbling behind everyone’s eyes.

She stood up and put her hand on Callum’s shoulder. “You’re Projecting,” she said quietly. Callum met her eyes, then looked around the room. Most had clenched fists, their necks and shoulders tight with strain. Only Serv seemed relaxed, although he’d stopped sliding the stone down his blade and cast wary eyes at his companions.

Callum took a deep breath and the tension melted. Cecily’s heart stopped pounding quite so furiously and her friends shifted in their seats and breathed away the strain.

“Sorry,” Callum muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and took a seat. It was rare for Callum to let his ability leak out without intent. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the table.

“They hit you quickly,” said Serv. Everyone’s eyes swung to him. He slid the stone down his blade as he spoke, the soft metallic swish barely audible above his gentle voice. “My bet is the Sensor isn’t the one in charge. He realized you’re still alive, and he didn’t want his boss to find out. So he tried to get rid of you by making it look like an accident. That way his boss doesn’t ever have to know you walked out of those woods.”

“Interesting theory,” said Alastair. “But you make a lot of assumptions.”

Serv shrugged. “Assassinations are complicated, particularly failed ones. If they knew she escaped the first time, it is unlikely they would have gone this long before making another attempt. She’s been in the city long enough—they should have tried to hit her before this. It leads me to the conclusion that prior to her encounter the other day, they thought her dead. And the attempt on her life came soon after. This tells me they acted rashly, arranging an attack as quickly as possible. It was hasty. Nearly successful, but hasty nonetheless.”

Callum cocked his head at Serv. “You never cease to surprise me. How is it you know so much about assassinating someone?”

Serv gave Callum a small smile and went back to sharpening his sword.

“Fine, keep your silence,” Callum said and waved him off. “The question is, what do we do about this?”

Cecily rubbed her face with her hands. It was hard to stay alert.

“The fire will of course be reported to the proper authorities,” Alastair said. “King Rogan will—”

“King Rogan will what?” Callum cut him off. “Ride in on a stallion with a gleaming sword, ready to lead us to victory? I, for one, am rather tired of hearing that Rogan will save the day. What is Rogan actually doing? Where is he?”

Alastair’s face grew red as Callum spoke. “His Majesty is pursuing the problem with all his resources.”

“And he wants us to wait, is that it?”

“Your involvement now would compromise the Crown’s investigation,” Alastair said.

Callum narrowed his eyes. “What does he know? Has he found something?”

“You know I’m not at liberty to say.”

“He doesn’t have anything, does he? All those resources, and he hasn’t gotten any farther than we have.” Callum leaned back and crossed his arms. “Either that, or he isn’t telling you anything.” Alastair’s mouth hung open. “So that’s it. He’s brushing you off.”

“Callum, I’m sure Rogan has his reasons,” Cecily said. She was sick of listening to Callum and Alastair argue. “He isn’t brushing anyone off. We haven’t had any luck. Is it so surprising that Rogan would be hitting similar walls?”

Callum shrugged. “As you say. But I’ll tell you one thing. You’re staying down here with me. Those people were willing to torch an entire inn in the middle of the city. You’re not safe out there.”