Exile (23 page)

The captain looked skeptical, but she met his eyes with unfaltering poise and he finally nodded. “I believe you. Who are you running from?”

She answered with sly smirk. “That is two questions, Captain. It seems to me that it would make more sense to ask who I’m not running from at this point, but, regardless of how you phrase the question, I don’t intend to answer it.”

The captain shrugged. “What’s your name?”

“Indigo.”

He searched her face, looking for more information. When she offered none, he nodded. “Welcome aboard my ship, Lady Indigo.”

He sat up and offered his hand to shake on their bargain. Though it was not a gesture she was used to, it pleased her that he was willing to treat her like a business associate rather than a lady and she shook the offered hand firmly.

Murchadh chuckled. “It’s almost a shame this will be such a short trip. I suspect you have some interesting stories to tell.”

“Perhaps.” She smiled in return, hoping desperately that she had the strength left to hold up her end of the bargain.

He glanced at his bunk. “I don’t suppose…”

She gave him a chastising look. “It will take considerable energy to speed the ship for our journey, Captain. I appreciate the offer, but I think it best to keep this relationship professional.”

He shrugged, his sheepish grin stripping any threat from him. “Not every night a pretty noble lady walks into my cabin. I had to try.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Myac stared at the fire around him, memory freezing him to the spot.

•

It was late night. He was thirteen, woken abruptly from a deep slumber. Sweating. Panicked. What woke him was the sound of screaming. Now that he was awake, he could hear it all around him, and he could hear the sound of fire, crackling and roaring like some vast bonfire. He could feel the heat of the flames and, considering he was inside the two-room house he shared with his mother, that fueled his panic considerably. He barely had time to look around when someone grabbed his arm with bruising force.

“Myac. Come with me.”

It was his mother, dragging him from the bed, her eyes wide with fear. Flames licking up the wall of the house behind her created an eerie red glow around her face. Myac jumped up, grabbing the trousers he had discarded on the floor next to the bed. He hopped along after his mother as he pulled one leg and then the other on. At the door, she motioned him to wait. Her hands trembled; sweat beading on them, the droplets gleaming like gems in the firelight. She cracked the door no more than an inch and peered out without exiting despite flames closing in around them, hungry for every speck of fuel, be it wood or flesh. Her hesitation spiked his fear. He wanted to run from the ravenous blaze consuming their home, but he held his ground. He would be brave for her because she had kept him and loved him even after his father rejected them. When she opened the door further, he saw every building in the village suffered the same fate. The whole place was on fire.

His mother nodded then and moved cautiously out into the open. No sooner had she cleared the doorway then a figure appeared beside her. Long silver hair and pale eyes reflected the firelight, giving him the look of a Kudaness night demon. He was dreadfully beautiful, a manifestation of the purest Lyran bloodlines. The blade he swung toward Myac’s mother dripped with blood.

“Mother!”

Her body crumpled to the ground, a lifeless doll, her head coming to rest at his feet. Myac looked from the head to the man standing before him. His pale eyes were full of blind hatred, a bloodlust that would not be sated and madness that couldn’t be reasoned with. Myac stepped back, terrified. The man stepped toward him, then a deafening crack split the air and part of the building collapsed on Myac. He screamed and thrashed, his hair and clothing catching fire, struggling to free himself from the burning wreckage that had fallen on him.

•

Myac’s own cry of remembered pain brought him back to the present. Flames consumed everything around him, but the barrier he had put up against them still kept him safe. Fear-filled memories faded, an ache of loss lingering in their place, and confidence in his power took over. Calm now, he stepped over the burning body of Indigo’s dead fiancé. He walked to the door and hesitated before exiting, glancing around the room with a touch of remorse. He would have liked to search the place to see what he could learn about her, but it was too late now. Regardless, he would find her somehow and make her explain herself. Then he would probably kill her, but that decision could wait. He reached out with ascard as he exited the building and found nothing. If she were anywhere near, she was still too well masked for him to find her.

You must be wearing down, my lady
.

He refused to accept the possibility that her ascard strength could outlast his. A sharp pain speared through the wound in his chest, almost knocking him to his knees. The healing he had done wasn’t sufficient. Like it or not, he needed to return to the academy and receive a more thorough healing. Indigo would have to wait, but he would find her. No matter what it took, he would find her and she would answer for the pain she had caused him.

When he exited the building a crowd was already gathering, mostly to gawk, though a few were moving buckets. Unless he missed his guess, there would be adepts on the scene before long to put the fire out, probably Ascard Watchmen with a few extra skills. If they were too slow, Jayce’s body would be unrecognizable. Sparing a little of the scant energy he had left, Myac reached back into the building and dampened down the fire. Let them know that Indigo had killed the young lord. Then they would hunt her with more fervor and increase the chances of finding her if she was still in the city. Unfortunately, he didn’t think she was foolish enough to remain in the city now.

Everyone was too absorbed with the fire to spare him a glance as he left the area. He was tempted to go to Serivar’s house and crawl into bed to rest. That need seemed greater than any other. Exhaustion pulled at his consciousness, threatening to drag him down in the middle of the street. If he didn’t get attention for his injury, however, an injury that would have been fatal for almost anyone left to tend it alone, then the poor healing job might become a permanent handicap. It might be too late already. If Indigo had left the blade in, he might not have been able to get it out and start the healing fast enough to survive the wound, though he suspected she’d only pulled it free in the hope that he might lose too much blood to save himself.

As furious as he was with her for her attack on him, there was some satisfaction there too. They weren’t so different at all. She was beginning to see that. In her desperation, she might find that she understood him more and more. Her situation wasn’t going to give her any easy outs and he had no intention of helping her. The harder things were for her, the better chance he had of running her into a corner and bending her to his will.

The kiss lingered in his mind. It had been nothing more than deception on her part, but that somehow made it sweeter. One more proof that they were of a similar nature.

He made it to Serivar’s office only to find it empty. Drawing on a little more ascard, he reached beyond the office into the hidden training room, not wanting to walk that far if he didn’t have to. Serivar was there, so he closed the office door and went through the hidden door to the hallway that led to the training room. When he entered the training room, Serivar scowled at him.

“Where are the key stones?” he snapped, a slight tremor in his voice.

Myac took a few more steps before weakness made his head spin. Stumbling toward the table, he tried to catch himself on the chair next to it, but knocked it away instead and caught himself painfully on one knee. Serivar’s face twisted with alarm and his focus changed, a querying sweep of ascard brushed up against Myac’s weakening barriers. Dropping the barriers, he let Serivar inspect him, the headmaster easily tracking down the injury.

“By The Divine! What happened?” He came forward now and helped Myac stand. “You can heal better than that.”

“I didn’t have the time to do it right. Can you fix it?”

Serivar’s scowl was discouraging. “One of the master healers can improve on it, but I’m not sure how much. What happened?” he asked again.

“Indigo took the key stones. I tried to stop her without killing her.” He wondered for an instant if he could have killed her, but quickly dismissed the thought. “I got this for my trouble. She destroyed the key stones and fled.”

“Where are Ferin and Emperor Yiloch?” There was a hint of panic in Serivar’s voice.

Myac gave him a sour look as he leaned on him and let the Headmaster help him to a chair. “How should I know? She wasn’t in contact with either of them when she destroyed the final stone. They could have ended up anywhere.”

Once Myac was seated, Serivar sat on the table, the tremble in his hands betraying his panic. “Why would she do this? Doesn’t she realize that she’s making herself an accomplice? I don’t know that I’ll be able to get her out of this mess.”

Myac shook his head once and his vision blurred. He waited for a surge of nausea to pass before trying to speak. “I don’t understand why she did it. She’s
your
pet project. Perhaps you should have made sure you had her loyalty before you turned her into a weapon.”

“You’re not laying the onus on me for this,” Serivar snapped.

“Of course not. I’d never dream of blaming the idiot responsible,” Myac snarled.

Serivar’s eyes narrowed, his expression going cold. Myac wondered for a moment if the other man might retaliate against him while he was weak or simply abandon him to his injuries, leaving him permanently handicapped. Then the moment passed and Serivar turned away.

Weak bastard
.

“About that master healer,” he prompted.

Serivar’s lip curled with distaste as he helped Myac to his feet again. They walked from the room, Myac gladly taking advantage of Serivar’s offered assistance. He hated feeling this frail, but he wasn’t too proud to accept the aid when he needed it. There was no sense in making things any worse.

“What next?” he asked, hoping Serivar would have insight into where Indigo might have gone.

“We talk to Caplin. He was in Lyra with her. He might have some information that will help us understand her reckless behavior.”

“He didn’t tell you anything the last time you spoke with him.”

Serivar opened the office door and let Myac lean on him going down the hall. “Under the circumstances, I think he will be more forthcoming. Especially when he realizes the danger she has put herself in.”

Myac nodded. If Caplin and Indigo were close enough friends, the new prince wouldn’t want her getting hurt. He would be more apt to share any secrets if he knew she was in serious trouble. “You might be right. After some healing and rest, we’ll go speak with him.”

“Is everything okay?”

Myac glanced up to see a young woman in healer’s robes in the hall ahead of them. Her eyes widened at the blood on his shirt.

“Go to the east building and tell one of the master healers that we’re coming. Edan will be needing some very complex healing.” When she hesitated, her ascard brushing up against Myac’s poorly rebuilt barriers in search of his injury, Serivar scowled at her. “Now,” he snapped.

Her ascard pulled away and she ran down the hall toward the exit.

When they reached the east building, another low-level healer met them and led them to a private room. The master healer was waiting. She was a middle-aged woman, with deep lines developing at the corners of her dark eyes. A quick ascard search reassured Myac that, while her healing skill was considerable, she didn’t have the ability necessary to root out his disguise. The illusion needed work now. It wasn’t as flawless as it had been before he let Indigo see through it, but it was sufficient to fool most people.

He let her ascard pass through and felt it home in on the poorly healed wound. The only hint of reaction to the near lethal injury was the pressing of her lips into a tight line. Rising from the chair she had been sitting in, she ushered him to the bed. When he was lying down, she sat next to him and placed a hand on his chest, her eyes losing their focus while she more closely examined the injury.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” she said finally. “Who did the initial healing?”

“I did,” he replied, trying to hold onto awareness. Lying down, it was all he could do to remain awake.

“Remarkably well done. It couldn’t have been easy to heal yourself while in that much pain, which explains why you look so exhausted.” Her smile was full of sympathy and admiration. “You saved your own life, but it was obviously done under unfavorable circumstances. If I undo too much of what you have done, it could kill you. I’ll clean up what I can without putting you at risk. You’re going to have some pain there for a long time. Possibly for the rest of your life, which won’t be long if you have any more incidents like this one.”

Myac grimaced. The wound would be a constant reminder then. Perhaps that was best. He would be less inclined to underestimate her the next time they met. “Go ahead,” he snapped, annoyed at how weak his voice sounded.

He met Serivar’s emotionless gaze, wishing he had the strength to read the other man’s emotions right then. The healer’s hand rested on his forehead. Before he could protest, he felt her ability knock down the last bit of resolve that was keeping him awake and he succumbed to a deep sedation.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Yiloch’s knees struck sand again, only this was hot, dry sand, not the wet, cool sand of the prison beach. Looking around while he tried to catch his breath from the transition, he saw nothing but open desert, baking in the bright sun as far as the eye could see. A few feet away, Ferin was on his hands and knees, gasping for air. The other man had been through two transitions, back to back, and seemed to be taking longer to recover as a result.