Emergence (Book 2) (22 page)

She shook her head. Her hair fell thickly around her shoulders in a dirty tangle. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." He crouched down, an arm's length from her, ducking his head to try and catch her eye. "Ciara, look at me."

"Please," her voice wavered, no more than a pained whisper. "Leave us alone."

A growl rose from the shadow when Bolin reached for her.

"I did it again." She gave a furtive glance in the direction of the man with the sword in his chest. "I killed them just like those men on the road. I didn't want to. I swear. I tried to make them leave. I begged them to. He was going to kill Berk. I couldn't let him do that."

The pain in her voice and her eyes twisted Bolin's gut. "You're right, you couldn't. But it's over now. You're safe, both of you."

She surprised him with a short, bitter laugh. "Safe? How can I ever be safe? How can anyone around me ever be safe?"

He touched her arm. Her head snapped up. The narrow-eyed look she turned on him gave Bolin pause. Her lip curled back over her teeth, and her power lashed out like a whip. Bolin flinched but didn't withdraw. The shadowy head dipped on level with his.

"Time for you to go back to sleep," Bolin said, sliding his gaze past Ciara to the manifestation.

And if I choose not to? Will you make me?

"Aye, if I have to."

A long moment passed in tense silence. Bolin fought to keep his breathing level. He could die here in the blink of an eye.

A gust of warm air brushed across him, and the shadow dissolved like a wisp of smoke. Bolin let out the breath he'd been holding. A shiver coursed through Ciara. She blinked at him, the normal hazel of her eyes moist with tears that didn't fall.

"I told them to leave," she said.

"I know. Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "I don't know if I can help Berk. I'm...I'm really tired."

"Nialyne will see to him."

He heard the rest of the party arrive behind them. Garek rushed over with Sully at his side, his face grim as he knelt beside Berk. "Is he--"

"Alive," Bolin said.

Sully blew out a relieved breath.

Garek scrubbed a hand through his ragged beard. "Let me take him, lass."

Ciara shifted out of the way so Garek could get an arm under Berk's shoulders. He hefted him as though Berk weighed no more than sack of potatoes, and carried him to the shelter of the trees. Bolin caught Nialyne's eye and nodded in Garek's direction. Ciara sat absolutely still, staring at her hands folded loosely in her lap. Bolin reached out to gently brush the hair off the side of her face.

"You would think I'd get used to killing people."

"It's not something you want to get used to, trust me."

"They're going to come after us, aren't they?" She didn't look at him. She sounded drained. No, more than that. Hollow. As though her body had become just a shell, and all emotion had left her. "They won't like that Berk and I escaped."

"They won't like that we took their horses either."

"You did?" That brought her head up. "No, Lenai will definitely not like that."

"Lenai?"

"Their leader." Her gaze drifted to where Nialyne tended to Berk. "He tried to protect me. I should have stopped them from hurting him." She tugged at her lower lip with her teeth, and her voice became hard. "I should have killed them all."

"That should never be your first choice." Bolin cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. The cold, bleak expression she wore terrified him. It looked as though some part of her were missing.

"And now Donovan will know where I am."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I won't let him near you. I swear by my life."

"Don't." She placed her hands over his and drew them down, her gaze following them to her lap and lingering there. "Promise me you won't give your life for mine."

Bolin would have given anything at that moment to erase her pain. Would have promised her the moon from the sky and spent the rest of his days trying to make it happen. But not that.

He stood and reached down to help her up. She took his hand and got to her feet, wobbling like a newborn foal that didn't know what to do with its legs. Bolin scooped her into his arms, and she nestled her head against his shoulder without protest. She muttered something when he kissed her forehead, but fell asleep before he took three steps.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"She's just exhausted herself," Nialyne said.

Bolin wished he could be as certain. Ciara had felt so light in his arms, as though there was nothing left to her. And she hadn't stirred since being laid beneath a warm pile of furs under the shelter of the trees.

"She needs sleep, that's all." Nialyne tucked a fur up around Ciara's shoulders and stood, taking Bolin's arm and drawing him away. "There's nothing you can do by pacing."

"What of Berk?"

"Ciara must have tended to him at some point. His wounds are shallow, and already starting to mend. He's got some nasty bruises that are fresh though, and he's just as exhausted. We can't move them, Bolin. Not tonight. Not unless there's no other choice."

"We'll post watch in pairs, but we'll need wards set as well. I don't trust any of us to stay awake."

Nialyne shook her head as though in disbelief of some random thought that had just passed through her mind. "Do you realize how incredibly strong she is? I mean, her earth magic alone. Not only did she set a healing spell on Berk, but she was able to weave a sleeping spell over an entire camp. One that lingered even after she left. And all that on top of everything else that happened to her. I'm surprised she could even call on her other power after that and not totally lose herself to it."

Bolin looked back over his shoulder. Either by some trick of the night
, or his own weariness, it appeared that a huge shadow curled around Ciara. "Is it possible her earth magic works with the other?"

Nialyne's forehead creased, and she pursed her lips. "I wouldn't think so. Earth magic is of the Goddess and the other...well, isn't. But then, I've never known anyone to possess more than one type of magic. The Sciath na Duinne come the closest to doing that, but then it's different because you weren't born with power
. Not as we know it, at least. And you normally don't take it without somehow altering its essence. Am I correct?"

"Correct," Bolin said, not missing the scolding tone to Nialyne's voice. If he had to guess, his indiscretion with the Dominion magic still bothered her.

"But you can combine various magics?"

"Aye, once I alter it I can manipulate it any way I choose. Though I've never tried to do it any other way."

"And I'm not suggesting you do," Nialyne said. "In fact, I'd recommend you don't. But it does suggest that it may be possible for vastly different types of magic to coexist within one person. Perhaps, with time, Ciara's will blend into one."

Bolin arched an eyebrow at her. "Is that meant to be somehow comforting?"

"It's not?"

"Quite honestly, I find it terrifying," Bolin said. "I've had more than one taste of the power she wields
, both of them. You've just said how strong her earth magic is on its own. I don't want to imagine what it would become if ruled by the other."

"Why do you assume her earth magic would be ruled and not the other way around?"

Bolin took another look at Ciara. Under the trees the night had become complete, and around her even more so. No trick of the imagination there. Within that shape the starlight glittered, reflected in an obsidian eye focused their way. A tremor of anger coursed across the nape of his neck, a tepid caress on the breeze. He drew Nialyne's gaze that way with a tip of his head.

"That is why."

Nialyne's mouth pulled into a line. "All the more reason she needs you by her side."

"I'm not convinced that's
such a good idea."

"Who else has such vast experience with so many different forms of magic? I don't believe there are any you could not bend to your will." She held up her hand when Bolin would have argued with her. "Even the Dominion magic, as dangerous as it is, you have somehow used against my advice. I won't ask what you did
. I suppose it no longer matters. The fact is you have. Would you rather the Imperial Mages are charged with training Ciara?"

"Training is not what they have in mind. They are already convinced she is a threat."

Nialyne pursed her lips, and her eyes flashed angrily. "Has it never occurred to the Imperial Mages that the biggest potential threat to the empire is you?"

Bolin's arm twitched, and his fingers curled into a fist. He sucked in a breath, his jaw working as he forced down the first three replies that came to him. "I think, Danya, you are overtired, as we all are, and you are not yourself."

"I am most definitely myself," she said. "I mean you no disrespect, Bolin, you know that. And I certainly would never question your loyalty to the Emperor. The facts remain what they are. Just as the fact remains that Ciara needs you, in more ways than one. I believe you need each other. Is it stubbornness or pride that causes you to deny that?"

"Neither, and this conversation is over. If you would kindly set the wards, Danya, I'll see to the watch."

"Bolin--"

He swiped a hand through his hair and stared off at nothing. "I'm sorry, Alyne, I can't do this now. If we make it to Nisair, and you feel the need to continue this, we can do so then. Now there are more important things requiring my attention. Like living to see morning."

He gave her no chance to reply, but turned on his heel and went to find Garek.

***

The Southrun proved to be less than a league from where they camped, and they were further north than Bolin had suspected. For the first time since leaving the Greensward, it seemed they had won the Goddess's favor. They had spent a blessedly uneventful night under the trees and struck out with the first light of dawn. Ciara seemed well-rested, but moved as though in a dream, and her eyes had an unfocused look about them. She rode quietly next to Nialyne, only speaking when the elder asked her a question. Berk looked worse: pale, his face drawn, he said even less than Ciara, and rode as though every step of the horse caused him pain. Still, he dropped back to take up rear guard beside Sully.

They took a short break at mid-day
, then pushed on. With the Goddess's continued good will, they would reach Broadhead by nightfall.

Starting its life as a tiny fishing village along the Millinain, Broadhead had grown into a thriving city once the Southrun became established as a main route between Nisair and Crossings. The addition of stone walls and establishment of a permanent
Imperial garrison became a necessity during the marauder uprisings. If need pressed, the garrison could house one hundred cavalry and another hundred or so foot soldiers. These days Bolin thought it unlikely to find more than a single company stationed there.

He certainly didn't expect to find the city gates closed and guarded when they arrived just after dusk. He slid a look Garek's way as they approached. "Who's in command here?"

Garek made a face. "Been a while since I've been on this side of the empire. Last harvest it was Major Dunleavy, but I heard he retired. I've no idea who was assigned to fill his spot."

One of the three gate guards detached himself from his comrades and strode forward, one hand raised up to signal them to halt, the other rest
ing on his weapon. His two companions hoisted their halberds, and flanked the gate itself.

"Is there a problem, soldier?" Garek asked.

The man's gaze swept over Garek's road worn uniform, flickered toward Bolin, then took in the rest of the band, three others of which were also wearing Imperial colors and none of whom had seen a razor or bath in far too long.

"We we
ren't expecting any detachments," he said.

"Lad," Garek leaned forward in his saddle, not a lick of his usual good nature showing on his face, and Bolin pitied the man on the receiving end, "I'm going to commend you for doing your duty. But we're dog tired, have a wounded man, and two ladies with us, so unless you want to find yourself serving as gong farmer for the rest of your tour, I'd suggest you open the gates and stand down."

The guard frowned. "If you don't mind waiting, I'll have to check with--"

"Who's in charge here?" Garek barked out the question, and the guard instinctively snapped to attention.

"Captain Rothel, sir."

"And where is the good captain at the moment?"

"I--I don't know, sir."

"Well, why don't you go find him for me? Tell him Commander Garek of the Emperor's personal guard, and General Bolin, Lord High Commander of the
Imperial Army, are unexpectedly sitting on his front stoop, road worn, hungry, and in a foul temper." Bolin cringed at Garek's use of his full title. The guard's eyes rounded on him, and his Adam's apple bobbed. The Commander leaned back, and crossed his wrists over the pommel of his saddle. When the guard hesitated, Garek lifted a finger and waggled it at him. "Go on. We'll wait."

"That won't be necessary," a voice called from above them on the wall. "Stand down, Willis. Lord General, Commander, my apologies. Come ahead, please."

Garek grumbled and rolled his eyes at Bolin, then nudged his horse forward as the gates swung inward. He made for the garrison alongside the inner walls, glowering at the guards as they stepped aside to let them pass. Stable boys swarmed around them as soon as they entered the yard, taking the extra mounts first while the riders dismounted. Bolin stripped his bags off Sandeen and slung them over his shoulder just as a fair haired, slender man approached from the direction of the wall. He snapped a crisp salute and followed it up with a bow from the shoulders, his eyes sweeping over the group as he did so.

"Captain Rothel, I take it?" Garek faced the man with fists planted on his hips, his cloak thrown back over his shoulders.

The man nodded. "I apologize again. If I had known you were--"

"Do you see this, Captain Rothel?" Garek jutted his thumb into his own chest and the silver
Imperial crest emblazoned on the navy surcoat. An edging of gold and crimson flowed around the crossed swords, denoting his rank.

The captain licked his lips. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry--"

"Do you see the uniforms on my men?"

"Yes, sir."

"Since when do Imperial soldiers not have leave to enter this garrison unchallenged?"

Bolin put a hand on Garek's arm. His temper rarely got the better of him, but when it did it proved impressive to watch. Not to receive. "Captain, we have two injured men who will need tending. We'll also be needing private accommodations for the women."

The captain studied Bolin, probably wondering if he truly was Lord High Commander of the Imperial Army, given he looked more like a hired sword than an officer of any rank. He gave a short nod. "Of course, sir." Rothel waved a soldier over. "See that the wounded are taken to the infirmary, and make sure someone fetches Sergeant Evan. Get some of the maids to see to rooms for the ladies."

"The General will need one as well," Garek growled. "I'll bunk with the men." He reached out a hand and snagged a passing squire by the collar. The boy sagged under the load Garek dropped into his arms. "Stow this for me, will you, lad? Captain, I hope your cook is good and your ale is fresh."

"Yes on both accounts, Commander."

"Excellent." The tension went out of the big man's shoulders, and he grinned. "Duff, I believe you owe me a few tankards."

"If you say so, Commander."

"That I do, lad. That I do."

***

"Do you see how it becomes easier each time?"

Ciara startled and looked around. She stood in the midst of a clearing with tall grass waving, deep shadows beneath the trees, and figures lying all around. They were hard men with dirty faces, blood on their clothing and soaking into the ground in dark puddles, their vacant eyes staring at the sky. Another figure stood opposite her; clean shaven, black hair, eyes like midnight skies. He smiled, but the expression held no warmth.

"Hello,
Daughter."

Ciara swallowed a sudden rush of terror. "What do you want?"

Donovan strolled through the carnage, ignoring her question as he ignored the flies that rose up buzzing around the corpses. "You are becoming quite adept at murder."