Bloodrose (18 page)

“You don’t seem too upset at your impending doom.” Ren’s laughter was cold.

“That’s because I’m hoping to alter my own fate,” Logan said.

“And how would you do that?” Shay asked. “Your legacy isn’t working for you.”

“Actually . . .” Logan smiled slowly. “I believe it will.”

Anika was standing directly over Logan, staring down at him. “What are you offering?”

“In the final battle when you face Bosque,” Logan said. “It needs to be at the Rift’s current location. Correct?”

Anika nodded.

“I know where it is.”

“We can simply force you to tell us that,” Anika said.

“But you know that’s not enough.” Logan was smiling now. “Don’t you?”

Anika didn’t reply, but her eyes narrowed.

“The location you could probably figure out for yourself. Even if it took longer than you’d like,” Logan continued. “It’s at Rowan Estate, after all.”

“We suspected it might be,” Anika said, but the Guardians were exchanging puzzled glances.

“What is the Rift?” Ren asked.

“The gateway by which the Harbinger and his minions entered this world,” Anika replied. “It was opened at the turn of the fifteenth century, but the beast moved it at his pleasure, so we were never certain where its current location might be.”

“And the gateway has to be closed,” Shay said slowly. “That’s how you win the war.”

Anika smiled at him grimly. “That is part of how we win.”

“It’s also how you get your parents back,” Logan added.

“What?” Shay whirled, staring at him.

“The Rift can only remain open by way of a ritual sacrifice,” Logan said. “That sacrifice, for the time being, was your parents.”

Shay’s jaw clenched. “You said my parents were alive.”

“They are.” Logan glanced at Anika. “I don’t suppose you could get me some more cigarettes?”

“That depends on what else you have to say,” Anika said. She put a hand on Shay’s shoulder, pulling him back from Logan. “How are Tristan and Sarah Doran alive if they were sacrificed to open the Rift?”

“Bosque Mar is very creative when it comes to torment,” Logan said. Shay winced and I wanted to go to him, but now was neither the place nor the time.

“We’re aware of that,” Anika said.

Logan paused, lifting his hand to check his wound. The gash was no longer bleeding. He gingerly leaned back against the pillow. “He wanted Tristan to suffer for his betrayal, so he concocted a punishment that would force Tristan to perpetually suffer while watching that which he’d risked everything for be destroyed.”

“You mean his child.” Anika turned away from the bed to pace across the room.

Shay frowned. “How could he see anything that was happening to me?”

My mind was racing as the temperature of my blood plunged. “Shay . . . I think I—”

Logan cut me off. “Where is the only place you’ve seen your parents?”

“Seen them?” Shay gazed at him. “I don’t know . . . my dreams. Memories.”

“Think harder.” Logan was on the verge of laughter.

“Stop.” I leapt forward, landing on the bed and crouching in front of Logan with my fist balled up. “Don’t you dare play with him.”

“Calla!” Anika was coming toward me when Shay stopped her with a sharp glance. He slowly turned to stare at Logan.

“The portrait,” he said. He moved his eyes from Logan to me. “The portrait in the library.”

I nodded, sliding off the bed to stand close to him. I didn’t dare touch him. The moment was live with raw emotion that I couldn’t risk provoking.

“Does that mean . . . ,” Shay whispered. “They’re alive, but . . . are they those . . . things?”

“What things?” Logan asked.

“He means the Fallen,” Anika said. “Is he right? Are Tristan and Sarah Fallen?”

“No,” Logan said. “They are not Fallen. The Fallen are carrion, little more than animated corpses. Bosque wanted Tristan and Sarah sentient. They’re being held in stasis, imprisoned in that painting.”

“How is that different than the other paintings?” Shay asked.

“The Fallen are prisoners we use to feed the wraiths,” Logan replied, cringing when Ren snarled. “The paintings are a liminal space—a holding cell of sorts. Bosque enjoys observing what he calls his own ‘art of war.’ He can see through the dimensional wall to watch the wraiths feeding. The prisoners remain there until they have nothing left to offer the wraiths. Then they are discarded.”

“But my parents haven’t been given to the wraiths?” Shay asked. “You’re sure?”

“You’ve seen it with your own eyes, Shay,” Logan said. “When you looked at their portrait, how did they appear?”

“Sad,” Shay murmured.

“But unharmed,” Logan said. Shay nodded.

“When you close the Rift, it will free Tristan and Sarah,” Logan said. “They’ll have aged, just as any human being would. But they will otherwise be as you knew them.”

“I never knew them,” Shay said.

“I did,” Anika said quietly. “Many of us did. We counted your parents as friends.”

Shay looked at her, surprised. She didn’t meet his gaze, lost in her own thoughts. “We failed them. We should have kept them safe, kept you hidden, but we couldn’t.”

The room fell quiet until Logan cleared his throat.

“I trust that information is worth something to you.”

“Perhaps,” Anika said.

“I’ll do whatever I can to prove myself of value,” Logan said. “I can help you win.”

Anika nodded, but she was looking at a woman who had appeared in the doorway.

“Ethan said you needed a healer.” The woman glanced around the room, eyes searching for her patient.

“Nothing serious,” Anika said. “The prisoner has a cut that needs tending. Disinfection, but I don’t think stitches will be necessary.”

The healer nodded and went to the bed.

“We’ll have more to discuss,” Anika said to Logan.

“Of course.” He winced when the healer peeled his shirt back. “If you won’t get me cigarettes, could I have something for the pain?”

Anika smiled. “I think you can bear it.”

“CAN WE TRUST HIM?”
I watched Adne move, gleaming threads spiraling out from her skeans as she wove the door that would lead us to Eydis’s resting place in Tulúm.
The writing is on the wall,
Logan had said. Was he right? We had one sword; we were about to take the first step in getting the second.

Nev shrugged. “As much as I hate to say it, yeah. Logan would stab
himself
in the back if he thought it would get him something he wanted.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mason had rejoined us in Haldis Tactical but couldn’t seem to shake his somber mood. “None of it matters.”

“Would you stop?” Nev bared teeth at him. “It’s okay to be angry. You should be angry.”

Mason looked away. “If he can help us win, that’s what matters.”

“Look.” Nev’s features softened. He rested his forehead against Mason’s. “We’ll win, then we’ll kill him. Deal?”

Mason tried to pull back, but Nev gripped his shoulders. He began to laugh. “Okay, deal.”

I regarded Nev thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you?”

“What?” he asked, keeping Mason wrapped in his arms.

“Kill Logan,” I said. “When he came through the portal with us. You stayed human. You were strangling him. Why didn’t you shift and rip his throat out?”

It was an appealing idea—and one I was certain had crossed Nev’s mind more than once.

He offered me a thin smile. “I wanted him to know it was me who killed him. The Keepers have never been good at knowing who we are when we’re wolves.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.”

“It’s time.” Anika gestured to the now-open portal. All I could see through the shimmering door were jewel tones. Sapphire blue. Emerald green. Colors so vivid, they were both alluring and ominous.

Shay fell in step beside me. “Tell me again why he’s here?”

I didn’t need to ask who Shay meant by “he.” “You know why. The pack needs him. And the Searchers trust him.”

Ren was already moving through the portal, in wolf form, trotting beside Sabine and Ethan.

“Fine,” Shay said. I was a little surprised when he also shifted, bounding past Adne and into the gem-like hues of the door.

Mason laughed. “He’s a wolf, all right.”

“And he doesn’t want Ren to forget it,” Nev finished. Grinning at each other, they both shifted and took off after Shay.

I heard Connor laughing behind me.

“Your mess,” he said when I glared at him.

“Don’t forget that I know about your housekeeping issues too, Searcher.” I flashed fangs at him before shifting. That wiped the smile off his face. I barked my satisfaction before chasing the others.

The colors were so bright it took me a minute to realize I’d reached our destination. The environment around me was full, too full. Thick leaves bent down, surrounding us, the jade nets of the forest canopy only occasionally pierced by spears of sunlight. It was the mixture of odors that gave me a sense of place . . . and change. While the air of Cinque Terre whispered of sea salt and lemons, it was crisp and dry. This air was heavy, rain-drenched. It poured into my lungs almost like water. I caught the scent of ocean salt and knew it was nearby. But even the sea smell had changed, gained a dark, rich scent of kelp and brine that invoked the vastness of waves and endless shorelines.

“All accounted for?” Silas straightened his vest and pulled out his omnipresent pen and notepad.

I really wish he wasn’t coming with us.
Mason’s voice sounded in my head.

You won’t get any argument here,
Shay replied, wagging his tail.

“Oh, wait, I forgot my sunscreen,” Connor said. “Silas, be a dear and run back to the Academy to get some. We’ll just wait. Right, guys?”

“Shut up,” Silas said, but he patted his vest and I knew he was double checking to make sure he’d brought
his
sunscreen.

“Come on.” Ethan waved for us to follow him down a game trail I could barely make out in the dense foliage. “They’ll be waiting for us.”

We walked a quarter mile. With each step a crashing sound grew louder. Ethan turned a sharp corner on the trail; when I reached the same spot, I stopped in my tracks.

It was as if someone had suddenly drawn the shades in a dark room. Blinding sun washed over us as the jungle dropped away, revealing miles and miles of beach with sand so white it resembled snow. The thunder of rolling surf stirred my blood, its sound both an invitation and a warning. I didn’t want to admit it, but the ocean was unsettling. Wolves didn’t belong in the water. Still, the mystery and beauty of endless waves tugged at something inside me. Maybe its very strangeness gave it an inexplicable appeal.

“You going for a swim, Calla?” Connor nudged me with his elbow. I’d been staring at the ocean so long I’d fallen behind. The others were heading for a ramshackle house that looked like it was on the verge of tumbling from the forest line onto the beach in a heap of wood planks and shingles. A long dock stretched from the deck of the house out into the ocean, where three boats bobbed up and down, moored to the rickety structure. I could make out the shape of a man in one of the boats. He didn’t look up at us, too busy with his own tasks to note our arrival.

A woman with long, dark hair stood on the deck, waving to us. When Ethan reached her, he wrapped her in a fierce embrace. She grinned at him but quickly turned her eyes on the gathering wolves. Shay paused in front of her, returning to his human form.

“It’s good to see you again, Scion.” She smiled, and I realized she’d been one of the Guides who had been meeting with Shay and Anika without the rest of us. Her eyes moved to the sword on his back. “And very good to see that.

“Bienvenido, lobos,”
she said, gazing at me and my packmates. “I am the Eydis Guide, Inez. Please tell me you don’t bite.”

Ren shifted forms. “Since you asked so nicely, we’ll make an exception.”

The rest of the pack followed Ren’s lead. I wanted to laugh as I watched my friends attempt to look nice instead of menacing as we introduced ourselves.

“Guardians have a sense of humor. Who could have guessed?” She laughed, a belly-deep, genuine sound that made me smile.

“They’re full of surprises,” Ethan said, but went red in the ears when Sabine arched an eyebrow at him.

“Indeed.” Inez threw Sabine a surprised glance. “Come inside. We’ve prepared you some food. We’ll go over the mission parameters while you eat.”

“I love Eydis,” Connor said, throwing his arm around the woman. “Inez never disappoints.”

“We make the most of what we have.” She smiled at him and gazed inquiringly at Silas. “Anika informed me you’d be coming. It’s rare to have a Scribe among us.”

“I merely do what history requires,” Silas said.

Connor shoved Silas toward the door to the house. “Please get to the table so you can eat instead of talk.”