Silence: Part Two of Echoes & Silence (48 page)

I felt a coat of worry thicken the air then—saw it wash across Quaid’s thick black brows.

“I still think I should stay with you,” he started. “I—”

“She will be more than safe with me,” Drake said boldly, moving toward us at a brisk pace. “It’s time. Let’s go.”

Quaid hesitated.

“Quaid, I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just go.”

He stepped away, but stopped. “This goes against everything in me, Ara.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” He rubbed his upper arm—where the Mark of his oath showed just beneath his sleeve. “I’m having to fight myself really hard to actually walk away from you.”

“Then, as your Queen, I order you,” I said with a soft smile.

“Thanks.” He sighed, moving his eyes up to meet mine. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

That gave me a bad feeling, too. I conspicuously glanced up the road on both sides, turning my eyes then to the night sky.

“The sooner we leave,” Drake said, grasping Quaid by the arm, “the sooner I can come back to her. Now go.”

I gave Quaid a little wave as he was dragged toward the tree line, lowering my hand as they vanished among the brush and the shadows swallowed them whole.

Overhead, a nosey owl questioned my position here, and then even
he
flew away, the branch he was perched on dipping in a wave as he took off.

Alone, with the cold breeze blowing down the road like a wind tunnel, and nothing but a sword and my Cerulean Light to protect me, I closed my eyes and centred myself. I didn’t feel scared—not really. And I wasn’t worried about what was to come; I wasn’t afraid of a fight. But I knew I should be.

I laid a hand over my little belly, thanking the gods that she wasn’t much bigger. I could fight, right now. I was small enough to be agile and flexible—the belly never really got in the way of that unless I was flat on my back. And maybe that’s why I wasn’t afraid. I’d done this many times—fought, run for my life, seen death and brutality. I just felt ready, and maybe just a little bit excited about taking back my home and seeing Walter’s and Margret’s heads on a pike by the time the sun touched the earth.

***

I heard his shoes crunch over wet twigs, pressing them into the soil, minutes before he appeared at the edge of the tree line. The clouds overhead had clearly moved in and blocked what little light the quarter-moon offered, making the darkness just that little bit darker. But even in such little light, I could see the true gentle nature of my bio-dad in the set of his shoulders as he stood there under the giant evergreen and offered his hand. I couldn’t see his face from this far back, but I knew he would be smiling. I could feel it in the energy radiating off him.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“For what?” I walked toward him with my arms folded tightly across my cold chest. “I thought I had to stay here.”

“Your mission is too important to risk waiting.”

I stopped walking. “Is everything okay up at the manor—did David get in?”

“He did.”

“Then why am I going to the forest?”

“As I just said: no matter what the outcome at the manor, you need to complete your mission—”

“But you agreed with David. You—”

“I lied,” he stated, his deep voice taking on a despondent tone. “He would never have left you if he knew you were going to the forest.”

“Oh.” I dropped my arms from their fold. “So… how
are
things at the manor?”

“Latest word is that Margret and two others from the Upper House are dead,” he said impatiently. “But we’re yet to locate Walter and the other three.” He took another step toward me, offering his hand again. “We need to go now.”

“And what about Jason?” I placed my hand in his, feeling the familiarity of his energy surge against mine, as if a tiny bit of his strength ran through and into me. “Has anyone found him yet?”

“I ran into Falcon in the Great Hall—”

“Is he okay? Did he know we were coming? Did—”

“He’s fine. But there was little time for pleasantries.” He drew me by the hand into the tightly-packed trees, holding a branch aside until I passed, then dropping it loosely back in place. “He wasn’t aware that Jason had been arrested. I sent him down to the cells to find him.”

My heart did a flip with relief. That meant Jase was as good as found.

“Now, remember,” Drake said, pushing another branch up and out of the way—revealing a clear patch of sky, long green grass, and a bridge just thirty or so meters upwind. “My cloaking spell will not conceal breath or voice. You must be stealthy from the moment we step into this clearing—lay each step down like you were walking on a thin sheet of glass.”

“Okay,” I said, the heat of my breath coming out in a foggy grey cloud against the dark sky. It was as if the air on this side of the forest was cooler, somehow icier than it had been on the road side or, as we used to call it, the human side. I hugged myself, wondering why we didn’t have standard issue military jackets as well. Stupid vampires. Just because they don’t get cold, doesn’t mean my kind don’t. “Why is it so damn cold?”

“The ocean breeze.” He drew a long breath through his nose, like a man taking in a holiday sky. “Can you smell it? It’s coming up over the cliffs down by the lighthouse—cooling everything down. It’ll snow here tomorrow.”

“Good,” I said, rubbing my goosebumps. “It’ll cover up all the blood.”

“If luck should be a stealthy walk tonight, there should be very little bloodshed.”

I pouted. I was kind of looking forward to stretching my muscles—taking down a few bad guys. Not that I’d like to kill, but I was certainly up for a little fight—up for showing these knights who their true ruler is,
and
that she’s capable of kicking their asses.

“Look up ahead.” Drake squatted down and pointed to the long bridge connecting Loslilian to the mainland. “There are two guards on this side of the bridge. And on the other side, there are two more guards, and men on border patrol at fifteen minute intervals. We need to get across that bridge and lay in wait until they pass. Once they’re gone, there is one more set near the village, and then we can cut through there relatively quick and run across the field to the forest.”

I squatted beside him. “Quaid said not to use vampire speed in this weather. Do you think we should go slow, or—”

“Across the field it should be fine. There is plenty of room to slow from a skid.” He stood up, reaching back for my hand. “Now, hold tight, daughter of mine. And don’t make a sound.”

“Wait.” I pulled back on his hand, feeling a giant and very sudden surge of guilt. “I need to tell you something before we go.”

He turned to face me, his eyes a vibrant blue even in the dark, as if they held their own source of light. I looked away from them, trying to find a reason why I
shouldn’t
tell him what I wanted to say. But it was the way he said “daughter”—the meaning and value he placed behind that one word with just the tone of his voice. It made me think about Morgana—about the heartbreak I saw in his eyes when he lost her.

“David didn’t burn Morg,” I said quickly, before I could change my mind.

“Pardon?”

“David lied about burning Morg’s body. She’s dead, but still mostly intact.”

If I thought he was already standing close enough, I was wrong. He took another small step in and lifted my face. “Say that again, and this time, do not look away.”

“He didn’t burn her,” I repeated, holding his gaze. His eyes searched mine, probably for the truth within my words. “Her body is in the kill suites—”

He sighed long and turned away, bringing his hand up to his head.

“We might be able to put her back together.” I took a brave step closer. “Drake?”

“Why are you telling me this now?” He grabbed both my arms. “Why now—before we go in there, possibly to fight, and—”

“Because of the way you said ‘daughter’,” I said, and then stopped for a moment as I watched him absorb that. “You deserve to know. And I don’t know what will happen in there, Drake. I’m… what if one of us doesn’t make it? I just thought you should know.”

He closed his eyes, placing a hand against his heart. “You care for me.”

“I…” Crap. I kind of did.

When his eyes opened, the warm smile remained. “Thank you, Amara—for telling me.” He bowed his head. “This gives me more cause to fight Safia—to see that both my daughters remain safe and, perhaps, one day reunite as sisters.”

I smiled, but in my head I was thinking “not likely”. I really could not see Morg and I sharing secrets or doing each other’s hair.

“Come then.” He closed the gap between us and took my hand. “Enough time has been wasted.”

***

Walking right up to a guard, in plain sight but unseen, made my senses sharper, made the air colder and the sound of my breath more obvious to me. I could hear my own heart in my throat, and with my ears so finely tuned, I could hear Drake’s heartbeat too. And from the moment I first heard it as we walked up the gravel path toward the bridge, all I could think about was that the rumours were true—all Originals did have heartbeats. And that heartbeat, that
heart
, gave me life.

My palm felt clammy against his, but the firm grip of his larger hand around mine made me feel safe. I knew that even if these men picked up our scent and sniffed us out, even if they heard my heartbeat and pinpointed our exact location, Drake, my father, would protect me above all else. I felt like he had my back—something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

The cold wind and the moving trees helped conceal the crunch of gravel under our boots. We walked like a father and a bride marching down the aisle—one step, then the other, our heads held high, my hand in his, our backs dead straight. My eyes moved from one side to the other as we slipped between the guards, and I held my breath, knowing the man just an inch to my right could smell me—probably hear my heart.

He looked sideways quickly, his eyes going right through me, and sniffed the air. “Finch?”

“Hm,” the other guy grunted.

“D’you fart?”

And that was it; I folded forward, my stomach and chest so tight to hold in the laughter that I nearly farted myself.

Drake pulled me into his arms, my spine to his chest, and covered my mouth and nose with his large, kind of rough palm.

“I do smell it, though,” Finch said. “And I can hear something too.”

Drake picked me up then and carried me quickly across the bridge. I could still hear the two guards contemplating the strange smell and the odd sound, but by the time we reached the centre of the long bridge—a good distance out of earshot, and shadowed enough not to be seen—I’m pretty sure they’d decided it was the strangest fart they’d ever smelled. And both were blaming the other.

“You could have got them killed,” Drake whispered gruffly. “If they’d caught on, I’d have been forced to take their lives.”

“I’m sorry.” I folded down, my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. “But…”

“Shh.” He put his finger to his mouth. “All this effort put in to planning this mission and you nearly blow it wide open because of a damned fart.”

My throat made a funny grumbling noise as I tried to hold in another laugh, but it burst out in a whispery breath and I covered my mouth to hide it.

Drake just groaned, looking up to the heavens.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Farts are funny.”

The very corners of his eyes narrowed then and the smallest hint of a smile moved one side of his mouth—just a little. “Pull yourself together, we’ve another two sets of guards to get through.”

I rolled myself to stand and took a deep breath, letting it out as I pinned my serious face back on. “Okay. I’m okay now.”

“Good.” He took my hand and started walking. “And for the record…”

“For the record?” I prompted when he paused.

“I might have laughed too.” He wouldn’t look at me as he spoke. “I’m just more practiced at composure.”

***

All the way across the other half of the bridge and as we walked briskly toward the village, my biggest concern was my knee. As I’d been play-fighting with Quaid, I’d knelt on the ground for a second and the mud had soaked the knee of my black cargo pants. Now, as the wild wind beat against my clothes, that one wet spot had become a very cold spot. The cuffs of my pants were soaked too, the moisture seeping up toward my ankles. I could almost feel the grains of wet sand weighing them down. I was also pretty sure my toes were peeling inside my damp socks. But none of that really mattered when we finally reached the village and the heavens opened up, as if my life was some cosmic joke, saturating us both through to the bone.

“We should run.” I projected my voice over the howling wind, turning so it blew my hair away from my eyes.

Drake spat the ice-cold water from his mouth as it rushed down from his hair and over the side of his face. “We can’t run in this. It’s too dangerous for you.”