Rise (23 page)

EMBER WOKE AS A HAND
covered her mouth.

“Don’t scream.”

The cry welling in Ember’s throat died, but only because she recognized the speaker’s voice.

When Cian saw that Ember wouldn’t panic, she rose from her crouch. Taking Ember’s arm, Cian pulled her from the bed where she’d been sleeping alongside Agnes. Cian handed Ember a heavy cloak, which the younger woman fastened over her sleeping gown. They quietly stole from the room.

The seasoned warrior took Ember only so far as a few doors along the manor corridor to another chamber. Hurrying inside the door that Cian had opened, Ember clasped her fingers in front of her lips so she wouldn’t give a joyful cry.

Father Michael sat at a desk on the far side of the room, watching her in the soft glow of light cast by the lantern at his side. Though she stayed quiet, Ember flung herself at the elderly priest when he stood up, wrapping him in an embrace. Father Michael staggered back from her unexpected greeting, but soon he was clasping her tight.

“My heart is glad to see you well, Lady Morrow.”

Embarrassed by her unrestrained display, Ember let go of Father Michael and scuttled back, bowing her head in respect.

“I take it that your response to Father Michael means your little speech this afternoon was an act?” Cian asked from behind Ember.

Turning to answer, Ember noticed for the first time that Cian was fully armed, despite the late hour. And her hand was on the hilt of her sword. Ember stiffened, realizing that Cian might have believed that Ember would betray their secret.

“It was,” Ember told Cian.

Cian relaxed slightly, but kept a close watch on Ember. “Have you returned only to see to your sister?”

“I did come to ensure Agnes’s safety.” Ember pulled the cloak tighter around her. “But that is not all.”

“Sit, child.” Father Michael gestured to another chair, and Ember gratefully accepted his offer. Cian remained close to the door.

The priest’s kind eyes put Ember more at ease.

“What can you tell us of the others?” Father Michael asked her.

“Barrow, Lukasz, and Kael are in France,” Ember said. “Sawyer was lost at sea. I don’t know what became of Fitch and Mercer. They never joined our party on the road from Tearmunn.”

Cian grunted in disgust. “Fitch proved spineless. He betrayed Mercer and would have revealed our presence.”

“How did you stop him?” Ember’s eyes were wide.

“I killed him before he could tell his tale,” Cian answered, and Ember flinched, knowing that if she’d been suspected of the same, Fitch’s fate would have been her own.

Father Michael folded his hands on the desk. “We must know, Ember. Does it go as badly abroad as Lady Eira’s boasts would make it seem?”

Reluctantly, Ember nodded. Any comfort she’d taken in seeing Cian and Father Michael faded as quickly as the glimmers of hope on their faces.

“They all go to her.” Cian shook her head. “And there is naught we can do.”

“We must not despair,” Father Michael said calmly, though Ember saw a great sadness in his eyes.

Cian met his gaze, but didn’t answer.

“What of Tearmunn?” Ember asked. “Have we no allies here?”

“Those who would join us have either been cowed by fear into submitting to Eira’s will,” Cian told her, “or they are locked in the stockade.”

Ember spoke, though she was afraid to learn more. “Lora? Ewan?”

“Ewan remains part of the Circle, but he cannot delay taking the oath for much longer without risk of being put in irons,” Father Michael said. “Lora has disappeared. I pray that she simply fled the keep, knowing she would be imprisoned for refusing to give Eira fealty. But I fear something worse has befallen her, for I find it hard to believe she would have left without sharing her plan with us.”

Made restless by this news, Ember stood up. “I know it wouldn’t be ideal to forswear oneself.” She glanced with guilt at Father Michael. “But couldn’t the oath be taken falsely?”

Father Michael answered, “If it were so easy, I would gladly absolve those who pledged themselves to Eira’s new order, but the oath is much more than words. It changes those who take it.”

“Changes them how?” Ember frowned at the priest.

Cian hissed through her teeth. “It binds them to him.”

Her brow still furrowed, Ember looked at Cian.

“To Bosque,” Cian said, anticipating Ember’s question.

“Lord Mar?” Remembering the reach of his silver gaze, Ember fidgeted, suddenly anxious.

“He calls himself lord,” Cian told her. “And he walks and speaks as a man, but his body and his words are an illusion that he used as a net to snare my sister and those guileless enough to be drawn in by his promises.”

“What does he offer?” Ember asked.

“What men desire the most,” Father Michael said. “An easy path paved in gold.”

Ember shifted her weight, unable to fight the cold seeping beneath her skin. “But there must be a cost.”

“The cost is everything we are,” Cian said. “The sacred tree is profaned. We are cut off from the magics that sustain us.”

Father Michael nodded, looking at Ember. “Any who take Eira’s oath lose the gifts offered by this earth. All we’ve studied. The crafts we’ve honed.”

“Then why would anyone take this oath?” Ember asked.

“The price wasn’t clear at first,” Father Michael said. “It wasn’t until the clerics found themselves unable to weave portals that we learned how strong this Bosque’s poison is.”

Ember looked back and forth from knight to priest, trapped by her own disbelief. “And there was no outcry against this?”

“By then Eira had too many followers for those who balked to sway,” Father Michael said.

“And my sister’s pet had other enticements to assuage those who were disturbed by the loss of their magics,” Cian added.

Ember’s mind beckoned images that she’d buried, knowing that to revisit them would be like opening scabbed-over wounds. The shadow creatures in the forest.

Watching as Ember went still, Father Michael said, “I wish I could allay your fears, Ember, but your mind has settled on the truth. Those who take Eira’s oath are instructed in arts darker than those practiced by any conjurer the Guard ever hunted.”

Appalled as she was, Ember could understand how Bosque had lured so many followers. Whoever commanded an army of invincible warriors had no earthly enemy to fear.

“But to do this, Eira has allied herself with the very thing Conatus is sworn to destroy,” Ember protested weakly. The appeal of power aside, Ember couldn’t forget Eira’s strength and courage. Her thirst for justice.

Cian slumped against the door. Like Eira, Cian had been changed in Ember’s absence. But while Eira seemed taller, more alive, Cian had diminished. Her eyes were tight with lines and deeply shadowed, her skin sallow.

“The fault lies with me,” Cian said.

Father Michael shushed her.

“No.” Cian looked away from the priest. “I knew how thin Eira’s patience wore with Crichton’s abuses and the fight to give women more power in Conatus. I didn’t watch her closely enough. I didn’t see.”

Cian closed her eyes, and a tear slipped along her cheek.

“Eira made her own choices,” Father Michael said, “as we all must do—and one day she will answer for them. But that burden does not rest upon your shoulders.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Ember thought of Barrow, Lukasz, and Kael, exiled in France and awaiting news. Thus far, Ember had nothing but grief to offer them.

Father Michael rose and went to Cian, taking her hands in his. “Please sit, my lady. I know how rarely you rest.”

Cian let him guide her to the chair, and she sat, silent but shedding no more tears.

Turning to Ember, the priest said, “We search day and night for a means to defeat Bosque, for he is the vessel that carries us into shadow.”

“That’s what the others do as well.” Ember nodded. “They’re at a safe house in La Rochelle.”

“Not the hidden sanctuary?” Father Michael asked in alarm.

“No,” Ember told him. “We sought refuge there after our ship was wrecked, and a longtime friend of the commander’s, a knight by the name of Jérôme Fauré, came to us. He gave us aid but also told us that any site associated with Conatus or the Templars would be unsafe.”

“Your ship sank?” Cian broke in. “When you said Sawyer was lost at sea, I didn’t think… how?”

“A sea monster,” Ember answered. “Barrow called it a kraken, Leviathan. It tore the ship to pieces.”

“By God’s mercy alone, you survived.” Father Michael made the sign of the cross.

Ember couldn’t disagree. That she’d made it to the beach with Barrow in tow was nothing less than a miracle. “We made it to shore, but we lost everything except the horses.”

“Another mercy,” Father Michael said. “Without horses, you might not have reached La Rochelle.”

Returning to her hidden companions, Ember said, “Jérôme advised Lukasz to try to contact the clerics of the Holy Land. He believes that only the oldest, most secret tomes will reveal the means to defeat our enemy.”

“I hope he’s right,” Cian said. “We’ve found nothing here. At least nothing good. So far we’ve learned more about Bosque’s power by his own hand than our studies.”

“Have you received word from Lukasz?” Ember asked. “Will he be able to safely contact you if they find something?”

“We’re still working on that,” Father Michael admitted. “The success with which Eira has recruited followers took us by surprise. Your friend Jérôme was right. Any of the usual places we’d send word have been compromised. Perhaps this safe house in La Rochelle will suffice.”

“That’s what Lukasz hoped for,” Ember replied.

“How do you plan to fit in here, Ember?” Cian said bitterly. “Do you think to return to the Guard?”

“No,” Ember answered. “I serve Lukasz, not Alistair.”

“You speak like a true knight of Conatus.” Cian’s tone remained sharp.

Ember stood up straighter. “Do you think I am not?”

“Eira favored you,” Cian answered her. “And those Eira favored have become her greatest supporters.”

Nodding, Ember said to Cian, “Alistair spoke of Eira’s hopes for me, but I never aspired to win her admiration. All I wanted to do was serve Conatus with my blades.”

“And how will you serve Conatus now?” Cian asked.

“I must convince Alistair that I returned not only for Agnes, but for him,” Ember said calmly, though her heart gave a heavy thud as she spoke. Before she’d come to Tearmunn, her plan had been nothing more than words spoken with conviction. Now that she was here, she would have to act.

“That’s a dangerous game.” Cian returned Ember’s steady gaze. “Are you prepared to see it through?”

“I have to be.” It was the most truthful answer Ember could give.

Father Michael clasped his hands as if in prayer, holding them to his chest. “It’s a great risk you take, but if you gain Alistair’s trust, it may help us immensely.”

“That thought occurred to me as well,” Cian added.

Ember forced herself to smile, affirming their words. Inside she was a jumble of doubts and second guesses. Since her return, Alistair hadn’t so much as looked at her with warmth. Her offers to aid them by becoming Alistair’s confidante might prove empty.

Cian rose, gesturing to the door. “I’ll take you back to Agnes’s room. You’ve had a long journey already, and I’m afraid the road ahead grows only rougher.”

Before she followed Cian’s direction, Ember asked, “This oath. Does Eira not press each of you to take it?”

“My faith is my shield,” Father Michael told her. “I cannot take an oath that would compromise the vows I’ve already taken in the service of the Church.”

Ember suddenly was very afraid for him. “And Eira doesn’t object?”

“Fortunately, Eira and Bosque see me as a doddering old priest and not a threat,” Father Michael said. “Since they think I have nothing to offer them, they care not whether they take something from me.”

A bit relieved, Ember looked at Cian.

“I currently enjoy a reprieve,” Cian said. “Due to my general stubbornness and the fact that I am Eira’s sister. But my time will come.”

For several heartbeats, Ember found her eyes locked with Cian’s. She realized that they shared a common goal beyond that of saving Conatus: each woman remained within Tearmunn at her peril, all in the hopes of saving her sister. Cian broke their gaze first, reaching for the door handle.

“If I need to speak with you…” Ember trailed off, thinking herself ill advised to go knocking on Cian’s door or sneaking into Father Michael’s humble quarters near the chapel.

Cian and Father Michael exchanged a knowing look.

“Where else, my child?” The priest smiled at Ember. “Confession.”