Steel's Edge (11 page)

“Why?”

Richard paused. His eyes grew darker. “My family is from the Edge. I have my own motivations to want the slavers dead. Suffice it to say that my reasons are highly compelling.”

There was trauma there, she could sense it. Some great injustice had been done to Richard. She wanted to know what drove him, but his eyes told her that was the one question he wouldn't answer. And Sophie, whoever she was, had to be a part of it.

“I spent eight months collecting information and gathering people I could trust and another four pursuing the slavers. I studied them, then I killed them. I slaughtered them in the open against overwhelming odds. I killed them in their sleep. I destroyed their camps. Four slaver captains are dead by my hand. It made no difference. They simply recruit more thugs. I knew I had to climb up their food chain and sever the head of the organization. And for that, I needed to find their Market, where the kidnapped are sold. During my latest raid, I obtained a map. It's the record of where the slaver ships are landing, but the map is in code, and I couldn't break the cipher. I needed the key.”

“Is that how you ended up in the cage?”

“I bargained with a man and fell into a trap,” Richard said. “It was a miscalculation, and I won't repeat it. They chased me, and I ran. I knew the Edge was my best chance. Unfortunately, I was too delirious to know where I was going or to deliver a warning when I got there.”

He leaned forward and bowed his head. It was a bow that would've been a credit to any blueblood lord. “I'm sorry I brought this on you. I will make them pay. It's all I can offer you.”

He was about to end this conversation and leave, taking her chance to matter with him. No. No, she wouldn't stand for it. The wounds inside her were too raw, the memory of the fire too fresh. “Not all,” Charlotte said. “I'm coming with you.”

“It's out of the question,” he said.

She gathered herself and looked down on him with all of the haughtiness her upbringing could provide. “You mistake me, my lord. I'm not asking.”

“My apologies. In that case, I should advise you that I don't respond favorably to threats.”

The dog raised his head and bared his teeth.

“You're not my enemy,” Charlotte said. “I don't want to kill you, Richard. I want to end this.” She pointed to the cage behind him.

He sighed, and for the first time, she saw the signs of weariness in his face.

“Perhaps, I should explain further. I mentioned that I needed a cipher key.”

“Yes.”

“Jackal Tuline, one of the slaver undercaptains, had a sister. A month ago, she was serving drinks at a tavern. Voshak bashed her over the head with a bottle and forced himself on her in full view of a dozen witnesses. He flattened her nose and dislocated her jaw. I've seen her personally, and the woman is almost unrecognizable. The experience left her deeply damaged, and her face is the least of her injuries.”

Charlotte glanced at the decomposing corpse. He wouldn't force himself on anyone again. That knowledge filled her with a frightening, savage joy.

“The word on the street said Tuline wanted revenge but was too afraid to take Voshak on directly. I approached him and offered him a chance to get even. We bargained.”

His voice dripped with derision, as if he were describing swimming through sewage.

“We came to an agreement. He would sell me the cipher, and I would see to Voshak's death. When I met Tuline in the woods to deliver the payment, six of his men ambushed me.” Richard smiled. It was a hard, humorless grin. “Tuline took a few moments to astonish me with his cleverness. He had deliberately engineered the rape of his own sister.” Richard paused. “He thought this plan up, talked it over with Voshak, then he did it. All to draw me out. The level of depravity is mind-boggling.”

It made her want to retch. “What happened?”

“I left him in two pieces.” Richard leaned forward. “When Declan came to me with this proposal, he told me that this mission would consume me—and it has. He chose me for many reasons, in large part because I have nothing to lose. My family doesn't need me now. My wife left me. I'm childless.”

An old pain stirred in her. She was childless, too. “I'm sorry.”

He paused, momentarily off-balance. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence stretched between them.

Richard cleared his throat. “I chose this road deliberately, and when I started, I thought I was worldly. I wasn't. I've seen atrocities along the way that would horrify most people, and I committed some because I had to be as ruthless as my enemy. There is no room for mercy or compassion in this quest, and there is no turning back. It changes you, and should I survive, I'm not certain that I'll be capable of normal life. Make no mistake, my lady. I'm a monster. Don't follow me. It's a one-way trip. Sane, kind people aren't meant to take it.”

“How about mass murderers?” she asked. “What's the policy for us?”

Richard shook his head. “Go home, my lady.”

“My home is burned to the ground.”

“These people are ruthless, cruel thugs. Think of what you must become to hunt them.”

He didn't understand. “Look around you,” she said softly. “I came to the Edge to hide from my magic. I ran because I have an obligation as a healer to contain it and prevent it from hurting anyone. I needed to be someplace where my power was weakened and nobody knew me. Someone had injured me, and I wasn't sure I could hold my emotions in check and not seek revenge. I came to the Edge alone, and I had nearly starved to death when Éléonore found me. She saved me, Richard. I rebuilt my life. I was content and this”—she indicated the corpses with the sweep of her hand—“had fallen dormant. And then they killed her, and they killed Daisy.”

Her voice snapped, and she swallowed. “She was only twenty-three, Richard. Twenty-three. She had barely started her life, and they crushed her and ripped out her sister's heart. Every time I close my eyes, I see Tulip wailing over her sister's body. I can't undo it. I can't just let it go.”

“You have to try,” he said. “Vengeance will eat you alive.”

“It's not about vengeance.” She shook her head. “It's about stopping them. You're trying to warn me about the road, but I'm already walking it. Have you heard of the Healer's oath?”

“‘I swear to hold the human body sacred,'” he quoted. “‘I will apply all my effort, all my magic, and all my knowledge of procedure and remedy to preserve life, to treat malady, to ease suffering. I swear to knowingly do no harm through the use of my magic or craft. I will prescribe no remedy when none is needed. I will not seek to improve on Nature's design for the sake of vanity, knowledge, or human passion.'”

“How do you know that?”

“One of my relatives was a certified Physician,” Richard said.

“There is more,” she said. “‘Should I break this vow through my ignorance, I will surrender myself to the mercy of my peers. I will accept their judgment and my dishonor, and should they convict me, I will cease to practice medicine. Should I break this vow by deliberate action, I will know that I have betrayed myself. I will have drowned my teachers in guilt and cast doubt and suspicion upon my students. Let my name be a bitter taste on the lips of those who knew me, let my countenance be that of dishonor, let me fade into nothingness and be forgotten, save as an example of failure and weakness, for I would become an abomination in the eyes of the world.'”

He waited.

“I'm a certified healer from the Ganer College. Today I killed human beings through the use of my magic. I did it willingly.” The words tasted foul on her tongue. “My life is over. Do you understand? I sacrificed everything I was so I could do this because it's my responsibility as a peer of the realm and a human being to destroy this human cancer before it hurts anyone else.”

She pointed to the dead bodies. They lay there, silent and accusing, evidence of her fall from grace.

Charlotte turned to Richard. “I own the consequences of my deeds. I have nothing to lose. I need your knowledge and expertise, but I'll keep going, with you or without, and I won't stop until the slave trade is broken. You can benefit from this alliance, as can I. Think what an asset I can be. Don't let my sacrifice be wasted.”

*   *   *

RICHARD
leaned back. She was looking at him, waiting for an answer.

He had done his best to persuade her to leave, but everything about her, from the coldness in her eyes to her wary posture, convinced him she would not. He had no idea who she was. He only knew that they had the same purpose.

She was beautiful and radiant. He remembered the concern in her eyes. The same concern drove her now, pushing her toward acts of violence. On the surface, he'd be a fool to turn her down. She was driven by tragedy, just like him, and she would be incorruptible, just like him. He needed a blade to kill, but she could kill dozens at once empty-handed. She was Death, and she had just asked to be his ally.

Walking next to him would break her. He'd fought so hard to spare Sophie from this grisly soul-eating burden. He couldn't bring himself to say yes to this woman.

“How often can you do this?” He pointed at the corpses, delaying his need to answer.

She frowned. “The process is complicated. When I healed you, I used the reserves of my own body to speed your regeneration. When I injure, the method is similar. It takes very little magic to introduce a pathogen to the body, but to make it kill with unnatural quickness requires a lot of power and control. To kill this many, I infected them all, then siphoned off the natural life force of their bodies until I was overflowing with it. There is a high degree of risk: had I poured too much of myself into the process, I would've died, but I am very angry, and I've never killed with my magic before, so I took the chance. Given ample rest and the right circumstances, I can do this again tomorrow.”

“Would you risk it without rest?” Richard asked.

“If the incentive was high enough,” she said.

So she valued her goal higher than her life. He would have to take that into account. She was likely to overextend herself on her own.

“What about doing this on a smaller, individual scale?”

The woman shrugged. “Infecting a single target is much easier.”

“Are you still capable of healing?”

She reached over and drew her hand across his cheek, letting the tiny golden sparks penetrate his skin. The ache in his face dissolved.

“Does the bruise still hurt?” she asked.

“No.” It was in his best interests to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't help himself. “What you do . . . it's a gift. Reconsider.”

Bitterness dripped from her voice. “Too late.”

“Are you able to control your magic? Can you rein it in?” Richard had to account for all possible contingencies.

“Yes,” she said. “What I do requires a very deliberate intent and concentration. I won't be infecting you in my sleep because I had a nightmare.”

“Do you have any family? Anyone who could be used to compel you to do something against your will?” Anyone he could use to talk her out of this madness.

“No.”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“Yes. Elvei Leremine, my ex-husband. He's terrified of me and will take every opportunity to obtain revenge. Also, by using my art and magic to murder, I've broken the healer's oath. If I'm discovered by the realm, Adrianglia will execute me. If you don't want this to happen, the use of my magic must be more covert.”

He was running out of questions.

“There is one more thing you should be aware of,” she said. “I can't heal myself. If I'm injured, I'll have to recover by normal means unless we can find another healer.”

She had committed herself to it. She would embark on this path with or without him, but her chances of survival were much higher if he took her with him. She had great power, but she was vulnerable. This time she got lucky. If he abandoned her now, eventually she would walk into the wrong camp. It would take just one man to shoot her dead or knock her unconscious. She had saved him twice, once from the wound and the second time from the cage. No matter how much he didn't want to witness her transformation into someone like him, he owed it to her to safeguard her.

Richard held out his hand. “Last chance to turn back.”

“No.” She put her hand into his.

“These are my terms. You will accept my authority. If I say to wait in a certain place, you will wait. If I say to kill someone, you will kill them. You understand that your life is secondary to our cause. If your compassion jeopardizes our mission, I may not be in a position to be merciful. If you choose to hinder me, I'll cut you down.”

He waited, hoping he'd scared her off.

Her face showed no hesitation. “Agreed.”

They shook.

“My name is Richard Mar.”

“Charlotte de Ney,” she said with a sigh.

A noble title. She had mentioned she had one, but even if she didn't, he would have known simply by the way she held herself. Blood itself, noble or no, didn't confer any special benefits. He was living proof of that—an Edger mongrel, yet he could and had passed for a blueblood many times. But he had years of education, and he recognized in Charlotte the grace and poise that training imparts.

Propriety dictated that he should let go of her hand. He did, although he didn't want to.

“We start with the bodies,” Richard said. “Voshak should carry a copy of the cipher. One more thing.”

“Yes?” She raised her eyebrows.

“The dog.”

“What about him?”

“You can't possibly mean to take him with us.”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“He's a wolfripper. Born and bred to hunt wolves, and since he was owned by the slavers, he was trained to hunt men. You're looking at 170 pounds of cunning and vicious predator.”