Veil of Shadows (23 page)

In this little pocket of the world, that was probably close to setting a record.

“I still don’t like this,” Kalen said again, tugging the leather strip from his hair. The long, dark hair fell loose around his face as he bent over the desk, staring at the map. “But it’s a better solution than what we’ve been doing. Have you picked your team?”

Syn just barely managed to keep from gaping at him.

He was going to go along with it.

Just like that?

With one small exception, Syn figured her hand-selected team was ideal.

The exception came with the name of Vena Saurell, the resident pain in the ass.

Vena’s presence was almost enough to make Syn rethink the squadron she’d chosen for this run, but Syn hadn’t ever let her personal likes and dislikes affect her job decisions. She wasn’t going to start now.

According to the squadron’s leader, Vena was doing well enough working with others. She also had experience with the baerns, something that would definitely come in handy—and it had been the deciding factor in allowing Vena to come on the trip.

She was the newest, and the only one with little to no experience—that acted as a mark against her, but the rest of the soldiers in Gering Squadron were experienced and tough, quick and silent, exactly what Syn wanted for this little trip. Vena was handy with weapons and she knew her way around baerns. Despite Syn’s personal misgivings, she knew Vena was a good fit for the assignment.

Blowing out a breath, she turned away from the squadron and made herself focus on the upcoming run.

Kalen studied the squadron with a measuring look and gave her a single, satisfied nod. “Who are you taking as your seconds?” he asked.

“Lothen and Xan.”

Kalen’s brow winged up. “Xan. He’s rather new to be acting as a second.”

“He’s very new . . . to our unit. But the man has military training. You can tell that just by looking at him.”

“There’s no denying that.” He glanced around and located Xan by one of the supply houses, speaking with Lo. “Have you spoken to him?”

She nodded. “He’s fine with it. Lo, as well.”

“What about the rest of your unit?” Kalen asked, his voice dry. “You can’t tell me hundreds of soldiers with more time in are fine with you picking him to act as a second on this little outing. He hasn’t been here long at all.”

“I selected my seconds based on who displayed the most skill, the most leadership abilities and the ability to make decisions under pressure. Xan fits the bill on all three, better than damn near anybody else in the camp, save for a few.” Tilting her head to the side, she gave Kalen a wide grin and said, “I could always request Elina or Lee accompany me and act as my second.”

“Fat chance,” Kalen muttered. He didn’t want the three of them together for more than a few seconds right now. He was probably being paranoid, but Syn appreciated his caution.

“Well, that marks off two of the others I’d considered. Bron was one, but we can’t afford to have both him and me away from the camp at the same time. Unless of course you want to take over the training . . . ?”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. “Who else did you consider?”

“The only other person I’d even think about having at my back out there is Morne, and as you know, Commander, he’s not exactly available right now.” She shrugged and rubbed at the back of her neck. She had the start of a tension headache brewing, and it was going to be an ugly one if she didn’t relax. Come sunrise, they’d head out on their supply run, and although she wouldn’t admit it, she was terrified. “Xan and Lo are the best choices . . . I suspect you know it as well as I do.”

Kalen grimaced. “Of course I know it. I just want you prepared to explain your reasoning to those who bitch about it once you return.” He jabbed a finger in her direction and said, “You’d best be prepared to handle those explanations, too, because I already know I’m going to have people at my door demanding it. I’m sending them your way.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” she said levelly.

“Good.” He gave her a critical stare and then jerked his head to the side. “Get the hell out of here, Syn. I’ll brief the squadron on things and then they can have the night off to rest and get ready. You go do the same.”

“Respectfully, Commander, I’ll do that after we dismiss the squadron.” She gave him a faint smile and added, “Besides, the last thing we need is for me to look like I’m slacking in my duties.”

Kalen hadn’t admitted it, nor would he, but there had been some backlash from Vena’s machinations. More than once, Syn had found herself being challenged by some of those who either were unfamiliar with her or just didn’t care for her all that much.

She could handle the face-to-face confrontations, but if there were those giving her grief in public, then she knew there were probably twice as many who were taking their grievances to Kalen in private.

The debriefing took close to an hour. Lo and Xan were called up to stand by her. Kalen remained on hand, giving his silent, unwavering support. He may let her handle those who bitched about her choice in seconds, but just by staying there as she outlined the planned run, he showed he backed her decisions.

She appreciated it.

There were a few people watching Xan from the corner of their eye, but by the end of the debriefing, the faint hostility she’d sensed had faded. Some of them still weren’t thrilled, but they were professionals—most of them.

“So . . . does anybody have any questions? Concerns?” she asked, wrapping things up. She hooked her thumbs in her utility belt and stood with her legs braced wide, studying the squadron.

A few hands went up. The general questions. Concerns expressed about the route, whether or not they were taking a large enough unit.

Vena’s hand went up and Syn braced herself for whatever stupid commentary that woman might offer. But to her surprise, it was a fairly legit—and fair—question. “How can you be certain your magic is steady enough to rely on?”

“If I wasn’t certain, we’d be going forward with a different plan,” Syn replied. “We’ve used this method before, back before we had trouble channeling the magic, and it’s always worked. The magic is channeled differently now, but it’s still there—I can still use it, still rely on it. It won’t fail us.”

“Hope not.” Vena scowled and looked off into the distance as she added, “Since it’s our lives you’re playing with.”

“Your lives aren’t a game to me, Saurell. I take the safety of my unit very seriously. If I had even the slightest doubt, this wouldn’t be happening.”

Kalen spoke up, his voice carrying to the back of the squadron and beyond. “Captain Caar has my utmost trust in this matter. I know her skills, and I trust them. I’d trust them with my life, and I have. I also trust those skills with
your
lives.” His gaze skimmed over the unit as he continued. “This doesn’t mean there’s no risk involved in this run. There is risk and if you forget that for even a moment, it could very well be the last mistake you make. The demons are getting more aggressive. They can no longer travel back and forth between the Gates, and as you well know, they are predators. Game is getting scarce. They are starving and they are getting more desperate—to them, we are nothing but food. That only ups the risk to our men. However, we can’t hope to combat that risk by sending ever-larger units on the supply runs. That presents an all-new danger. Larger units move slower and it’s harder to conceal a large group of men. There is risk involved in this run, but there is risk involved in this no matter what. If you want a life without risk, let me know; we’ll get you eastbound as soon as possible.”

Nobody spoke.

“Well, then. I’d say we’ve covered everything,” Syn said. She nodded to the squadron and dismissed them. As they all filed out of the hall, she turned and faced Xan, Lo and Kalen. Giving them a bright smile, she said, “That went rather well.”

Kalen snorted. “That smile would terrify a sane man, Captain.”

As much as he might dislike it, Laithe had come to the conclusion that he couldn’t return to his unit.

Guilt over Corom gnawed at him, although he’d had little choice. Corom would have reported back to Reil, and Laithe simply couldn’t have that.

Few things mattered more than his duty to his superiors, his duties to his brethren.

This was one of those things, and he’d acted as he must. That it had cost the life of a good Sirvani would keep him awake at night, however not as much as the alternative.

Like it or not, he couldn’t return. Deserting his people certainly came with risks, though. If by some slim chance the bastard Dais returned to the High Lord and spoke of what Laithe had done—assuming they believed the offworlder—then Laithe’s life was forfeit.

But he doubted Dais would attempt to return to Reil.

So hopefully, he was safe. At least he hoped so, because he couldn’t leave here now. Not after what he sensed going on the past few days.

It was the buzz of magic. Witch magic hit his senses like strong, undiluted alcohol, and he reveled in it, almost drunk on it. This was part of the reason why his kind hunted witches. Having that power so near, it was almost as pleasant as foreplay.

It was also something that had been absent until just very recently.

A day or so after he’d killed Corom, that was when he first sensed it. It was faint, and hidden almost as quickly as it had flared to life. If he wasn’t so close, he never would have sensed it before they had concealed it.

From everything he understood about witches, they used their gifts the same ways others used their eyes or their ears. It was as natural as breathing. So why hadn’t he felt it before now?

He’d certainly been close enough.

At night, he could even see the faint light from the campfires within the base’s walls.

So it wasn’t a matter of distance, or anything else . . . They simply hadn’t been using their magic.

He wondered why, but it wasn’t a puzzle he could dwell on, at least not right now.

There were soldiers moving in his direction, and more than just a few. They weren’t on foot, either, so they were moving rather fast. They rode big animals—Laithe couldn’t remember their term for the four-legged creatures, but the things were big, fast and rather effective guards, as well.

Laithe gathered what little gear he had and wiped away all signs of his presence with the ease born of habit. It took only moments and then he was melting into the trees, withdrawing until he could no longer hear the soldiers, no longer catch their scent on the wind, no longer feel the burn of magic humming in the air.

He was closer—getting closer.

It had taken him close to a week. Another long, frustrating week, but Morne was finally closing in on Dais. Just that morning, he’d found where Dais had made a quick camp for the night. He’d left early, well before dawn, almost as if he knew he couldn’t afford to not keep moving.