Читать книгу Darkfall - Janice Hardy - Страница 8

I yelped and dived forward, away from whatever had clawed me. I hit the floor, but something else landed beside me. Small, and it moved, skittering back towards the doors. It snagged on the doorframe but broke through and caught on the balcony rail.

A second grappling hook.

“Aylin, get out of here!” I scrambled back to my feet as the first intruder kicked open the doors. More glass cracked, and a piece grazed my arm. It didn’t sting nearly as much as my back.

“Leave her alone!” Something flew past me. Was that a chair? Wood cracked against flesh and a man grunted. Aylin leaped from the bed, the blankets in her hands. She tackled the man and tangled him in the cloth, knocking him down.

The second man charged in and kicked her. Aylin cried out and flew back with an oomph. She slammed into the mirror, and glass shattered. I lunged at him, hands out, looking for flesh. I grabbed sleeves instead.

Skin, skin, I needed skin.

We struggled, my back stinging. He twisted and his arm slid back, down, then – skin.

Got you.

I pushed, the pain surging up through my shoulder and out my hands. He sucked in a pained breath and staggered back, tripping over his partner and sending them both back to the floor.

Light brightened the room, and I squinted, turning away. “Aylin?”

The lamp on the desk next to her was turned up full, all the shutters open. “I’m OK,” she said, but she didn’t sound OK. She also had one arm pressed against her side.

The door to our room burst open. Aylin screamed and I pivoted, readying myself to dive at whoever was attacking us now.

Danello stood in the door wearing nothing more than sleeping britches and his rapier. He moved in fast, putting himself between us and the two men who were now back on their feet and holding weapons of their own. A knife for one, a short sword for the other.

Sword-man attacked, thrusting the blade at Danello. He parried it, the scratchy ziinng! of metal against metal raising the hair on my arms. Knife-man hung back, his face tight with pain. He had to be the one I had shifted into.

“Go find Jeatar,” I said to Aylin, nudging her towards the door.

She ignored me and grabbed a statue of a prancing horse off the desk. She threw it at Knife-man. He gasped and dodged sideways. Agile, but not as surefooted as Danello. Nor as graceful as Aylin. Who in Saea’s name were these men?

Both had dark hair, but they didn’t look like Baseeri soldiers. Well-made clothes, good boots. Clean-shaven, so not refugees. Trackers? Aristocrat guards?

Danello fought Sword-man while Aylin kept throwing whatever she could grab at the other. I scurried past Danello to the other side of the room, where there was more to throw. I flung a water pitcher. It glanced off his head and dented the wall.

Danello lunged forward, piercing Sword-man’s leg. He screamed and went down on one knee. Danello stabbed at the other leg, and he collapsed.

Fast steps thudded in the hall outside our room, many feet racing up stairs. Guards in brown uniforms stormed in, swords drawn. Sword-man rolled over and held out both hands, fury on his face. Knife-man ran back towards the balcony. Danello and the guards followed, but he was over the side and sliding to the ground before they could grab him.

“You got this one?” one of the guards asked Danello, tilting his head towards Sword-man on the floor.

“Yeah.”

The guards turned and ran out of the room. Danello stood over Sword-man, the tip of the rapier hovering above his throat.

“Don’t even think about moving,” he said. “Why did you break in here?”

Sword-man just glared.

“Are you OK?” Danello asked me without looking away.

“I’m fine.” My heart felt like it was about to thump out of my chest, and I wasn’t sure my knees were going to keep me standing, but both would pass.

“Aylin? Are you all right?”

“I think so.” She was still holding her side.

“I think not.” I hurried over, took her hand, and felt my way in. “Two broken ribs.”

She grimaced. “No wonder it hurt so much to throw those things.”

I drew, mending her ribs. Mine started aching.

“You’re really handy to have around, you know that?”

“Nya?” Jeatar slid to a stop outside the door, two steps ahead of Onderaan. Men with armour and swords were right behind them. Two came in and hauled Sword-man to his feet, then out the door. I don’t think his boots even touched the ground. Jeatar didn’t say where they were taking him but the scowl on Jeatar’s face said I really didn’t want to know.

Jeatar looked us over, his scowl turning to worry as he took in my ripped nightshirt and the blood smeared on my arm. “Who’s hurt?”

“I was, but not any more,” Aylin said. “But there’s a man with a knife out there who’s probably not happy.”

“We’ll find him, don’t worry.” Jeatar looked like he hadn’t been to bed yet, but Onderaan kept rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking out on one side. He came over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, pretending he was Papa.

Jeatar stayed by the door. I’d never seen him look so scared before. Or so mad. Hopefully the mad part wasn’t at me.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

“Someone tried to kill Nya!” Aylin described the whole thing, yelling and waving her arms. She was scared too.

“We’ll post guards outside,” Onderaan said softly, patting my hand. “No unauthorised visits to the house.”

“OK. Thank you.”

I took a deep breath and looked at the broken mirror. Dozens of my own face stared back at me from the jagged glass. I turned and checked my back. A new scar ran along my shoulders, worse than the ones on my legs and chest.

Shifting was different from healing. I had time to think about the wound when I healed, and make sure it closed properly. With shifting, I didn’t think about it, I just did it. I’d shifted into so many. The prison guard. The foundry soldiers. The Undying.

And every shift had left its scar.

Jeatar moved us to a room with no windows at the centre of the farmhouse, and we had to go through two other doors just to get to it. There hadn’t been any guards when we got there, but they were posted now. Lanelle had complained about them hassling her when she’d come to take the broken ribs I’d healed. Aylin ignored her the whole time, making a show out of talking with Danello.

“Who do you think they were?” I asked after no one else had shown up for a while. The guards had orders not to let me out of the room until they had the perimeter locked down. Which seemed to be taking an awfully long time.

“The Duke’s men?’ said Aylin.

Danello shook his head. “More likely sent by that aristocrat from Little ’Crat City. The Duke’s men wouldn’t have been so sloppy.”

I shivered. Never thought I’d be grateful for amateur assassins. “Think they caught him yet?”

“He had a decent head start,” said Danello. “It might take them a while.”

“Does that mean I’m stuck here until they do?”

“You should be happy about that.” Aylin shuddered, wrapping both arms around herself. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, I know people have tried to hurt you before, but not like this. Those were always fights, it wasn’t – personal.”

I knew what she meant. It wasn’t a soldier defending a foundry, or men guarding a room no one was supposed to see. These had been assassins sent specifically to kill me.

“It’s got to be breakfast time by now,” Danello said. “Want me to go down to the kitchens and get you something?”

Aylin jumped up. “You stay, I’ll go. I need to get out of this room anyway.” She left, giving me a wink as she shut the door. Where would she go first – the kitchen or to see Quenji? I was a bit surprised he hadn’t come by yet, but maybe the guards were keeping everyone away.

Danello smiled at me, but he was worried, too. “Good thing you’re not easy to kill.”

No, I was just easy to hurt.

“Healers are always hard to kill,” I said. “In the war, the soldiers would aim for their eyes or their hearts – kill them quickly before they could heal themselves.” You could always tell a Healer’s body by the wound that killed them.

Danello scooted closer and put his arms around me. I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I know the last few months have been awful,” he said. “Saints, the last five years have been awful, but we’ll get through this.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He pulled back and took both my hands. “Because we have each other.”

He smiled in a way that made it suddenly hard for me to breathe. He leaned in close, hesitating a whisper’s length away, then kissed me. A hot tingle ran down to my toes, like a flash all over my skin, but a good flash. It was suddenly hard to think too, but I was tired of doing that anyway.

“Wherever you go,” he breathed into my ear, “I go.”

* * *

Aylin returned much faster than I’d have liked, not even bothering to knock first. Her hands were empty, but her eyes were full of fear.

“Something’s going on and I don’t think it’s about you,” she said, not even giving me a sly grin after Danello and I jumped apart. This was serious.

“Any clue what?”

She shook her head. “People are running all over, Ouea doesn’t have any food set out, and I swear the servants are packing.” She paused, then gasped. “Oh! And the guards outside your door are gone.”

“They’re gone? Without telling us?” I rose. That couldn’t be good. “Did you see Jeatar?”

“No, but there were people coming in and out of the library.”

“Let’s go find out what’s going on.”

It was morning already, and sunlight poured through the windows. Servants were indeed running around with crates and carrying objects wrapped in tarps. Faces were tight, pale and worried.

Jeatar stood at the big table in the library, maps spread out before him and soldiers around him. Ellis was there, but I didn’t see Onderaan.

“…down through the plains so we can stay ahead of them,” he was saying, running his finger along something on the map.

I stepped into the room, Danello and Aylin close behind me. “What’s going on?”

Jeatar looked up. “The Duke’s army is mobilising, and it looks like he’s coming here.”

I went cold.

“We received a message from Baseer. The Duke is ferrying troops over to the west side of the river. He’s moving supplies, support staff, everything he needs for an extended march.”

“How many soldiers?” Danello asked.

“Rough estimates – between ten and fifteen thousand.”

“That’s too many.”

A brief smile flickered on Jeatar’s lips. “It is. He’s going to hit us, but we can’t be his only target.”

“You’re sure he’s coming here?” There was no reason to attack us. I’d caused him a mess of trouble, but you didn’t send a whole army after one person. Shiverfeet raced down my back.

Not unless that one person could destroy everything. Someone you thought you’d already killed.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Jeatar looked over at two men entering the room. He held up a finger, and I waited while he spoke to some of his guards. They hurried back out, shouting names. Jeatar turned back to me. “There’s no strategic reason for him to cross the river. The road from Baseer leads to both Verlatta and Geveg and is much more suited to travel. The only things of value on this side of the river are the aristocrats ready to stand against him.”

That wasn’t true. Jeatar was here. And I was pretty sure he was the rightful heir to the throne of Baseer. If I was right and the Duke had figured it out, he’d come after him fast.

“What about the people?” Aylin asked.

“I’m evacuating everyone to Veilig,” Jeatar said. “That should get them out of the Duke’s path and away from the fighting. He won’t chase us.”

“He will if he’s after you,” I said. The Duke had burned an entire city to get to Jeatar’s father and the rest of his family. Everyone who could have claimed the throne instead of him. I didn’t know how Jeatar survived, but he had scars he kept covered up.

For the first time, I could read Jeatar easily.

He was scared.

“He’s not after either of us,” he said evenly, his blue-grey eyes boring into mine. “This farm is where people who want to see him stripped of power are gathering. I knew we couldn’t stay a secret for long. Some secrets you can’t hide forever.”

Like his secret? Did he suspect I’d guessed? I could ask him right here, right now, and everyone would know who he was. Our resistance could finally have the leader it deserved, one who was strong enough to keep the aristocrats in line and get everyone working together.

But that would make Jeatar the biggest target in the Three Territories.

If the Duke knew he was behind the rebellions, he’d destroy every town he suspected Jeatar of being in, just like he’d destroyed Sorille.

I couldn’t put all those people at risk. Not until we were ready to fight.

“Is he going after Geveg?” I asked.

Jeatar let out a held breath and nodded. “That’s a reasonable guess. He’ll want to make Geveg an example, quell the other rebellions, and eliminate any support the aristocrats have gained.”

More guards came in and Jeatar turned away again.

If the Duke was going after Geveg, then the rumours about the Gov-Gen had to be true. Maybe all of them were. Geveg was fighting back, kicking out the Baseeri. Once they were gone, Gevegians would regain control of the pynvium mines, reclaim what was stolen from us.

The Duke would never allow that. He’d do anything to keep those mines, keep the pynvium. Even destroy us.

And when he was through with Geveg, he might go after Verlatta. Then there’d be no safe place to run to in the Three Territories. There wouldn’t even be a Three Territories any more. I tried not to picture it, but the images came anyway. Flaming pitch arcing through the air, splattering against roofs and buildings, fire spreading through the city.

Geveg might not even know the Duke was coming. Someone had to warn them.

Someone like us.

Which meant abandoning Tali again. Stopping my search for her. If you stop the Duke, you can get her back for sure. The odds of that were just as slim as finding her with no idea where to look. But Tali was probably with his army, and his army was headed to Geveg.

“We have to tell Geveg they’re in danger,” I said to Danello and Aylin. “They can’t possibly know the Duke is coming.”

Aylin gaped at me. “You want to go home now?”

“She’s right, we have to,” Danello said. “The more time they have to prepare, the better chance they’ll have of defending the city.”

She hesitated, lips tight, then she nodded. “OK, I’ll tell Quenji. Knowing him, he’ll love the idea of running into certain death.”

“Are you going to tell Jeatar?” Danello whispered.

I glanced over at him, deep in conversation with his soldiers. “I’ll tell him before we leave. He has more important things to worry about right now.”

“I want to go with you,” said Lanelle, cornering me in the dry-goods storeroom.

“Go with me where?” I’d been running around like everyone else on the farm, gathering supplies. I’d sent Quenji after a horse and wagon, since he was the most likely person to actually find one. I did warn him against stealing it from someone who needed one, though.

“To Geveg.”

I nearly dropped a bag of goat jerky. “You do know it’s about to be invaded?”

“They’ll need Healers.”

Even ones who’d betrayed them? Maybe Lanelle saw this as her chance to redeem herself.

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Please, Nya.” She grabbed my free hand. I fought the urge to yank it away. “I can help, I really can. I know people, and I know things about the League you don’t. The Elders talked around me, even about things they shouldn’t have.”

Because she’d helped them. But she did have a point.

“You’re not going to get over there and join the other side?”

She actually looked hurt. “No, swear to Saint Erlice I won’t. Baseeri lie – I know that now.”

Not all of them, but it was a step over the right bridge.

“Please, Nya?”

I sighed. Aylin was going to kill me. “OK, you can come.”

The heat from the forge wrapped around me as soon as I turned the corner. Hammer strikes of metal on metal rang out, mixed with duller thuds and some impressive swearing. I still hadn’t come up with a story as to why I needed pynvium, but since I’d stolen it in the first place, I figured some of it was mine.

Smiths banged away, no doubt trying to get the last of something made before we had to leave. Weapons maybe, or tools. Maybe just metal ingots that would be easier to carry. Onderaan worked in one corner off to the side. I cringed. I’d really hoped he wouldn’t be here.

“Onderaan?”

He turned, frustration on his face. He seemed surprised to see me. “You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”

The forge was on the farm grounds, but it wasn’t connected to the house.

“I know but I, uh, needed some pynvium.”

“I think the weapons have already been packed, but I’ll see what’s here. There might be some pain-filled scraps left.”

“Any healing bricks?”

“Bricks? Why would you need – oh, Nya.” He sighed, rubbed his eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“Warn Geveg. I know it’s dangerous, but I—”

“You sound like your father.”

“I do?”

“Not the warning part,” he continued, “but the going-where-it’s-dangerous part. Going to Geveg where it’s dangerous, specifically.” He sighed and sat on a corner of the unfinished forge. “But you need to go, just like he needed to go.”

“He went to Geveg?” I’d always thought he’d been born there. I should have known that wasn’t true as soon as I’d learned he was Baseeri.

Onderaan nodded. “When he was nineteen. Our grandfather was governor then, and his ore finders had just discovered a huge pynvium vein in the mountains. Geveg needed enchanters to smelt it, and Peleven wanted to go help. I asked him not to leave, but he didn’t listen.”

“Why didn’t you want him to go?” Geveg was safe back then – no Baseeri soldiers on the streets, no Duke telling them what to do.

“It was a lot of pynvium. Mountains of it, and Verraad was already making a fuss out of claiming it for Baseer, trying to get his family to listen.”

Verraad. The Duke, before he was Duke. Was that when he first started thinking about killing his father and brothers?

“It made Bespaar nervous, and when he was nervous, our father was nervous. Bespaar knew too much about what his family argued over, how different their politics were. Your father should have been nervous too.”

“Who’s Bespaar?”

“The heir.”

I glanced around. The other smiths were out of earshot, the bellows and hammering drowning out anything we’d say.

“You mean Jeatar’s father?” It was a guess, a risk, but I needed to know who the man who should have been duke was.

Onderaan’s eyes widened. “Who told you?”

So it was true.

“No one. Jeatar has the Duke’s eyes and lots of money, and he keeps trying to help people without anyone knowing he’s doing it.” I’d figured that out not long after we’d left Baseer. “And I saw his burn scars when he pulled me out of the Luminary’s office. He was in Sorille when the Duke burned it, wasn’t he? Plus little things he’s said and done. It all filled the same bucket.”

Onderaan smiled at me the way Papa had when I’d done something well. “You have a way of seeing what no one else does.”

My face warmed and I looked away. It wasn’t anything special, just what you had to do to survive. “Does anyone else know?”

“Ouea. She’s been with his family since he was your age. A few others, loyal supporters of his father’s, but they’re all over the Territories now.”

“Causing rebellions?”

“Gathering support for when the time is right to move against the Duke.”

“But that’s now!”

He shook his head. “No, it isn’t. We have no army, no defensible base.”

“So we’ll tell everyone who Jeatar is and we’ll get their support. We build the army, we march back to Baseer and take over, save Tali, then free Geveg and Verlatta. It’s a good plan.”

Onderaan looked at me, a sad smile on his face. “Nya, that’s not a plan, it’s a wish.”

“Maybe not.”

We could do it. How hard could it be to raise an army? The Duke did it, and no one even liked him.

“Nya, one day we will stop the Duke, but not now.” Onderaan stood and looked around the room. “Let me get you what pynvium I can. No bricks, but I think there are some orbs left.”

“What about Jeatar?”

“I’ll tell him you’re leaving after you’ve gone. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll understand. Once we get the refugees settled in Veilig, I’ll come meet you in Geveg.”

“How will I find you?”

He paused. “Be in Analov Park at sunset in six days. Right under Grandpa’s statue.”

We decided to leave at night. The man who’d attacked me still hadn’t been found, and we agreed it was safer to travel when no one was watching. Quenji found a horse and wagon – which I suspected Onderaan had something to do with by the way the wagon was stocked – and had it tucked away at the edge of the woods down the road.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Jovan asked. His twin brother, Bahari, had been the one asking all afternoon, but he’d given up. Or they were taking turns.

“Because it’s not safe,” Danello answered, same as he’d done all day. He hadn’t snapped, hadn’t yelled, hadn’t done any of the things I might have done if my little brothers had been pestering me for hours. “Stay with Ouea. She’ll take care of you until we’re done in Geveg.”

“And then you’ll come back for us?” Halima asked, twisting one blonde braid around her finger.

“Promise.” He knelt and hugged her tight. “I’ll always come back for you.”

Was being able to say goodbye harder or easier than just losing someone? I didn’t know if I’d have had the strength to let Tali go, knowing I might not ever see her again.

“Find Da,” Bahari said, hugging him when Halima was done. “Bring him back with you.”

“I will, I promise.”

We all got hugs too, and Ouea herded the little ones back inside the house. I took Danello’s hand. It trembled, and he grabbed mine tighter.

“They’ll be OK, right?” he whispered.

“Safer than we’ll be. Ouea won’t let anything happen to them. And Quenji’s pack is staying, too, so Zee and Ceun will look after them as well.” So much more than Tali ever had.

He took a shaky breath and nodded. “OK, let’s go.”

“We’re all loaded up,” Quenji said, smiling from the driver’s bench of the wagon. “How far to Geveg?”

“Two or three days.”

He made a face. “Sounds boring.”

We climbed in the wagon and took seats on the wooden benches on both sides. Not the most comfortable ride to Geveg, but we’d manage.

Quenji snapped the reins, and we rumbled down the road, everyone quiet save for the occasional cough. I watched the farm fade away in the night, unable to shake the feeling I was leaving family behind.