Crusade Across Worlds (31 page)

I stop. “How do you know?”

His eyes rake over me. “They leave a mark. A
glow
.”

“I’m glowing?”

“Special bugs…” he murmurs and scurries into
the darkness again. “Curhio waits for her. Always waits,” his voice
grows faint. “Every time. Every time…”

“So this is it?” Blovid examines the red
sphere between his fingers. “Smaller than I would have expected.”
He holds it up so that the rest of us can see. “All right,” the
Arizal Leader turns to Sampson. “What now?”

“Now we speak to Hozfin and Thias.”

“The King will not entertain discussions of
the war with you present,” Norhra states with a flat tone. “You
know this.”

“I will speak for him,” Blovid says, “if
Thias wishes to speak with a Dofinike representative.”

“When?”

“As soon as possible. We only have a couple
of days before the invasion. Any Vermix spotted must confirm that
we have
both
Gifts, and be left to return with the
information. If I understand,” the Arizal Leader turns to Ehan,
“they are currently being captured?”

The Nerwo nods. “And killed.”

Sampson shakes his head. “They must be
allowed to return to Reuzkimpart, so they can tell of what they’ve
seen, and so we can capture him once he arrives to collect
them.”

“But where?” Norhra asks. “And how?
How
will this trap work?”

“And that is exactly what we need to
discuss. Tonight,” Sampson looks between the brother and sister,
then to Blovid, Clarence and the rest of us. “It would make more
sense to hold the meeting in Thias’s castle, but circumstances
being what they are…perhaps we can utilize Hozfin’s home. Walker,”
he turns to him. “What do you think?”

The tribesman shrugs. “I don’t see why not.
He’s not crazy about being around the Nerwos but I think he’d make
an exception.”

“Tucker, do you agree?”

Arms crossed, the Rogue Leader offers a
short nod.

“If you could both notify Hozfin and Warze
immediately, I think that would be best. Shall we say… dusk? Ehan,
Norhra,” he turns to them, “please advise King Thias that we have
found the Gift and will be meeting tonight in King Hozfin’s home to
discuss the Vermix invasion. He is more than welcome to attend, but
if he chooses not to, you both will speak in his place. Qippert,”
Sampson shifts focus again, “please notify Chancellor Keller of
this meeting and request his attendance as well. We would be more
than happy to host Queen Ariana, Maris and Salva, should they also
wish to accompany.”

Qippert nods.

“We will deliver the information,” Ehan
says, “although…it will most likely be Norhra and myself.”

“Then I look forward to seeing you both
again tonight.”

Norhra nods and takes off in a run up the
mountain. Just before her brother turns to join her, he stops and
looks over his shoulder at Sampson. He frowns at the Fychu,
indecision wracking him. Finally, he inches forward. “She…she is
well, Fychu.”

Sampson stiffens.

“She…asks about you, often.”

Clarence pauses like the rest of us, eagerly
awaiting Sampson’s reaction. He continues to look at Ehan,
hesitation in his stance, grief in his eyes.

“And what do you tell her?”

“That you are well. That you are working
with Blovid, the Arizal Leader, to stop Reuzkimpart and the Vermix.
She…” he takes a breath and leans in, lowering his voice, “she has
asked Norhra to deliver a message, but Norhra does not think it is
wise. I overheard their conversation. Forgive me.”

Sampson studies him a moment before asking,
“Do you know the message?”

Ehan nods. A lump rolls down his throat as
he moves even closer. “She says…
Maya vu saplora
.”

I know that.

Those words. I’ve heard them before. In some
important moment when everything was crashing around me, when a
voice whispered their reassurance through the pain.

Sampson lowers his head, like he’s trying to
keep himself standing, like his legs are incapable of supporting
his body with the information flowing through it. Ehan must realize
this because he backs up, apologetically. Perhaps he shouldn’t have
conveyed the message after all.

“Norhra and I will return at dusk.” He
frowns at Sampson once more before taking off after his sister.

After a long moment, Qippert releases a
breath, breaking the fragile silence that surrounds the remaining
group. “I will collect Chancellor Keller.”

Sampson doesn’t acknowledge him. We all
watch the Fychu, waiting for something, some sort of reaction or
response, but he doesn’t give one. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t do
anything. With one final glance to the others, Qippert shoots into
the air and disappears.

Clarence looks at Walker and Tucker,
gesturing to Zinnollo. They exchange glances, then peer over at
Sampson and finally, take off for the trees in the distance.

“Well…” Clarence rubs his hands together.
“I…guess we should get back. We have a meeting to prepare for.”

Sampson remains still, eyes on the ground,
focused on the nothing he’s distracted with. Clarence motions our
departure while meandering toward his old friend. He places his
hand on his shoulder and gives Sampson a small squeeze.

I hear a few whispers before the distance
grows between us.

***

It’s all we’ve been talking about since we
got back.

Who is the
she
and what did the
message mean? Through the whole thing, Reid has stayed particularly
quiet, trying to avoid participating in the dialogue while Pratt,
Mae and Able have been going back and forth, offering theories on
what they think happened, trying to pinpoint clues that might give
it away.

The five of us are waiting for Clarence
outside my home and Reid still isn’t saying a word. He knows
Sampson almost better than anyone, but has pretty much been keeping
to himself, his head low and his focus away. Something is up, and I
plan on figuring it out once we’re alone.

“How is he?” I ask as my
great-great-grandfather walks up the bridge.

“As well as can be expected.”

“So what happened?” Pratt asks. “What’s
wrong with him?”

Clarence props his hands on his hips and,
letting out a heavy breath, turns his gaze out at the lime canopy.
“I asked him if he wanted you guys to know—don’t take it
personally—but Sampson would rather keep it private. The Fychu,” he
looks at us with a frown, “has had some hardships in his past, like
we all have. And, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, being on Nerwolix has
brought some of those to the surface for him.”

“But come on,” Able laughs, “who’s this
she
? Another Dofinike? A Nerwo? Who?”

“I don’t think—”

“You have to at least tell us who
she
is,” Pratt says.

“He doesn’t have to tell us anything,” Reid
says with defense, pity and grief in his tone. “It’s Sampson’s
business and we should respect that.”

Clarence offers a soft smile. “I can’t tell
you who she is and what all that was about because Reid’s
right—it’s not our business. But I will say it has to do with why
he’s forbidden from entering King Thias’s kingdom. Sampson and the
Nerwos…they go back awhile. A
long
while.”

“Do you think Sampson will ever tell
us?”

“Oh…” he leans against the bridge’s wooden
railing, “…perhaps someday. Sampson’s story is a sad one…like so
many of ours. I think every day is hard for him because he’s
constantly convincing himself to…”

Pratt jumps at Clarence’s hesitation. “To
what?”

“To do what he must. To do what he
promised.”

“Which is…?” she prompts.

“Oh no,” he smirks. “You’re not getting the
truth out of me.”

Pratt sinks with dejection, lowering her
chin to the wooden railing. Mae and Able exchange similarly
disappointed looks.

“Maybe he’ll tell us one day.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t press him for it.
Questions on that subject seem to cast Sampson into a dark hour and
right now, we need him in the light. We need him focused and
positive, as strong a Fychu as he can be,” Clarence looks around
us. “Right?”

We all nod.

“Good,” he straightens. “I’m going to go
relax for a bit. We rarely get a chance to do so and I’m taking it.
I’ll see you all at Hozfin’s later,” he scans our attire with a
raised brow. “We’re meeting with the King—be sure to dress
properly.”

Once Clarence leaves, Pratt huffs. “Aw. I
was hoping for more.”

“Me too,” Mae agrees, disappointment
coloring her features. “Like who’s the ‘she’?”

“I know. It’s like, give me something.
Anything
.”

“You heard the man. We’re not getting
anything out of Sampson for awhile,” Able stretches and turns to
Mae. His cheeks redden but he does his best not to give anything
away. “Want to take a nap before the meeting later?”

Mae matches his blush and after a quick nod
and a speedy farewell, the two head over the bridge and toward the
Rogue’s home.

When they’re gone, Pratt smirks at me.
“Right. A nap.”

“They call it what they call it.”

“And what do you call it?” Her smile widens,
her eyes flickering to Reid.

“I call it none of your business,” I grin
sweetly, matching her humored expression. “And speaking of naps,
maybe you want to take one yourself?”

“I’m not tired.”

“Try some warm milk.”

“We don’t have milk.”

“Then count some sheep.”

“I get it. You want to be alone,” she
glances at Reid again but he hasn’t heard a word. He’s still off in
the same place, distracted with thoughts that have kept him
occupied since hearing the message to Sampson. With a concerned
frown, Pratt looks back at me. “I guess…I’ll see you at
Hozfin’s?”

I offer a nod and she leaves silently,
glancing back once more before heading over the bridge.

I turn to Reid.

He must not realize the others have left
because he’s in the same position—elbows resting on the railing,
chin sitting on knotted fingers. He’s staring out at the canopy,
completely motionless in his concentration, heavy thoughts playing
behind his focused eyes.

I nudge his hip. “What is it?”

This seems to snap him out of his daze.
Somewhat. Reid steps back from the wooden railing and glances
around. Finding we’re alone, he looks at me. “Want to head in?”

I nod and he leads us past the curtain and
into the small, warm space. My focus lands on the bed immediately.
Desire rushes through my body. Desire and urgency. I think of
earlier on the branch and my eyes dance over the inviting red
linen. Something tingles in my stomach. I look at Reid, hopeful
that he’s thinking the same thing, but he doesn’t seem to see the
object that has my body bothered with anticipation. He doesn’t seem
to see anything, really. Reid’s retreated into that secret place
he’s been in since we left.

“What is it?” I ask for the second time.

His mouth parts, words about to fall when a
look of fear crosses his features. But as suddenly as it appears,
the emotion is washed away by something else. Something soft.
Something gentle.
Love
, I think. Reid shakes his head.
“Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

The corner of his mouth lifts as he moves
past me to the bed. He sits down and his shoulders slump with the
weight he’s been carrying around. “Come here,” Reid asks in a
tender voice, the words an invitation, not an order.

I do as requested, but before I’m able to
plop down beside him, Reid wraps his arms around my waist and
brings his head to my stomach. He nuzzles in, burrowing himself
deeper. When I realize he has no intention of letting go, I run my
fingers through his hair, separating the soft brown tufts, scraping
my nails against his scalp. Reid groans and moves in even closer,
his body shivering around me. The silence is back and now that
we’re finally alone, it’s time to find out what’s going on.

“Tell me.”

“What would I do if I couldn’t see you every
day?” he murmurs into my t-shirt, refusing to let me go. He
snuggles in, securing his hands behind my back, locking me to
him.

“What do you mean?”

“If something were to keep me from you. If
we were separated.”

“Why would we be?”

Reid looks up, his face soft and sad. He’s
hiding something in it, something he’s afraid to tell me, something
he’s afraid to acknowledge. I’m about to ask when I decide to
change my tactic.

Running my fingers through his hair, I
stroke his scalp, watching his features relax, feeling him loosen
around me. Reid gazes up with adoring eyes and I lean down,
pressing my lips against his forehead. And then each eye. And then
each cheek. His mouth parts but I kiss around it, prolonging the
moment, building the warmth and intensity. Because this isn’t about
sating the hunger from earlier. It’s about comfort. Affection.

Love.

“Fallon.”

I move back to his eyes and press my lips
against his left. Before I can reach the right, he cradles my face,
bringing it level with his. The kiss is instant and hot, his tongue
in my mouth, his hands holding my head. I’ve barely recognized the
change when suddenly I’m on my back, under Reid, his fingers
inching beneath my shirt.

“Reid…”

He slips his hand higher, his lips traveling
to my neck. I want to continue comforting him—and find out what
he’s been keeping from me—but this is obviously what he wants. And
maybe, just what he needs. Succumbing to him, I feel the heat wash
through me, overpowering me, until I’m nothing more than useless
putty. Reid nips at my neck, his fingers finding my breast. He
squeezes me and I inhale.

A low rumble grows as he slides his free
hand up my arm, pinning it to the bed above my head. He threads our
fingers together.