World Weaver (The Devany Miller Series Book 4) (2 page)

“Vasili and I spy upon the witches as best we can, but the glare from the Omphalos is too bright to see much of use.”

Of course it was. I was my own worst enemy. I needed to stop trying to fix things. Or at least step back and think a damn minute before fixing the immediate problem. Something on his face made me ask, “What?”

“They are repairing the border that separates the Wilds from the witch lands.”

“I knew that. What’s with the concerned face?”

He floated closer to me, the soft shush of his guts pulling along the floor no longer disturbing to me. “We cannot be certain.”

“Nex. Spit it out.”

“There are more Riders infecting Wydlings in the far south and even some witches with full-grown parasites riding inside them.”

I shook my head. “That’s impossible. The Omphalos keeps the Riders at bay.”

“Not along the southern shore. The tides that roll in off the water wash the border towns with wild magic. They are far enough away from the Omphalos that the parasites can survive. They cannot infect other witches with potential, though, so they cannot spread the same way as in the Wilds.”

Lizzie had told me I would have to deal with the Riders. I’d thought I ended it when I killed the parasite that had tried to infect me, Liam, and Krosh. Apparently, I was dead wrong. “How many?”

“Too many. I fear that in a few weeks, the Wilds will be overrun and all its people infected. Or dead.”

 

***

 

After Nex’s wonderful news, I hooked to Marantha’s house. Usually, I was polite and knocked. This time I slipped through the hook to the middle of her living room, unwilling to risk someone seeing me outside. “Marantha? Sorry to pop in without …”

On the coffee table, beside a cup of tea that still had steam rising from the surface, was the wanted flyer with my picture on it.

“Shit,” I breathed. By being in her house, I had put her in danger. As I was debating whether I should leave, Marantha walked in from the kitchen.

She gasped, clapping her hand to her chest. “Devany. What are you doing here?”

“Breaking the law, apparently.” I pointed at the flyer.

She waved her hand, dismissing it. “Kenda’s feathers are ruffled. You not only showed her up, you fixed the Omphalos. That took a hell of a lot of power and now half the Council is willing to let your crimes—and those of your father—slide.”

“My dad thinks she’s trying to find Bethany before I can, so that she can use her to get to me.”

“He’s probably right.” She settled herself on the couch and picked up her tea, the cup rattling against the saucer as she lifted it. “They are watching me.”

“That’s why I didn’t knock.”

She jerked her chin to the window. “Listening too.”

I stepped close. Her eyes widened as I made a hook and took us to the Slip. She was now on Tytan’s couch, the squishy one. She proceeded to sink into the cushions. “What did you do?” she asked.

“Brought us someplace private to talk.” I sat in the chair across from her. “The Anforsa won’t even know we were gone.”

She snorted, trying to look calm, but I caught her panicked glances at the window. What did she see beyond that pane of warped glass? The Slip was an uncomfortable place for non-Skriven. I’d long since gotten used to the place, even though I wasn’t technically a Skriven. I’d been voluntold for the job of Originator—Skriven boss—and as soon as I figured out how to weasel out of it, I would.

“Have you heard from Arsinua?”

“No. I’m sorry,” she said, seeing my face fall. “She knows I helped you push her soul into the Formless One’s body. I doubt she’d trust me at all.” She struggled to the edge of the couch and perched there, her tea cup still in her hand.

I dropped my head into my hands. “I have to find her. It’s killing me. She can’t just disappear,” I said.

“No, she can’t. It’s a matter of finding her magical signature.” Marantha reached across the coffee table and pressed her cup into my hands. “The problem is, she hasn’t been using any magic.”

I cursed again and Marantha tsked at me.

“Drink.” She eyed me until I took a petulant sip. “Anyway, until she does, we are stuck searching for her the hard way.”

“What about Bethy? She has magic too. And now she’s here, where it’s everywhere.”

“Arsinua probably cloaked her.”

I glared.

“Hid her magical signature. It would take power to maintain, so I’m guessing she is with someone else.”

“Someone is helping her hold my daughter hostage?” The cup broke in my hand and warm tea spilled over my lap and onto the floor. “Damn it. I’ll kill her, Marantha, and whoever is helping her. I want Bethy back.”

“Breaking my good cups won’t bring her home.” Her lips thinned at the mess I’d made, but she didn’t say more about it. “Do you think Arsinua would hurt your daughter?”

“She took her from me!”

“Yes, I know,” she said, patiently. “But do you think she would hurt her?”

I bit down on a number of nasty comments and finally said, “No.”

“Then there are other things you should worry about first.” I opened my mouth to protest, and she held up her hand. “They are closing the borders. As soon as they’ve finished, you won’t get back in. The magic is too powerful, even for you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” A giant clock was ticking loudly in my ear and at the top of every hour, screamed, ‘Doom! Doom!’

“I will continue to search for your daughter, as will your father. But once the Anforsa has the border sealed …” She shook her head. “The Council will have unlimited power. I can’t imagine they will wield it responsibly. At first, perhaps. But you know as well as I do how power corrupts.”

What was she saying? That I’d been corrupted by my power?

“No,” she said, sounding tired. “I’m not talking about you. Not yet. Yes, I do think it could go to your head, very easily. History has shown over and over again that power corrupts. Why would you be any different?”

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She shrugged as if to say, ‘No problem.’

“So what should I do?”

“Find a way to break the Omphalos again.”

I walked to the window. Outside, a slug-like Skriven crawled by, leaving behind a slime trail of acid that sizzled the ground. “I can’t get anywhere near it.”

“Perhaps you don’t need to.”

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Looking into how King Sorgen made it might tell you how to break it.”

Back to the view outside. The Skriven had left behind a smoking black trail that was already being absorbed by the ground. The Slip was so weird. “I need to find my daughter before the borders close. I don’t have time to look into it.” I had access to the man himself, but it was unclear how I’d get the burnt husk of what remained of Sorgen to talk. Perhaps the goddess would be able to tell me.

“You need to stay out of witch lands. If the Anforsa finds you, I’m afraid she might kill you.”

I snorted.

“Devany, I’ve heard she’s been opening herself up to the Omphalos, letting more and more of its magic fill her. There were a few witches in my day that could take half of the magic that thing is putting out now.”

“Is it too much to hope that she’ll boil her brains?”

“Yes. The magic will burn away her sanity, but it will also keep her alive. That’s why it’s safer for you and your daughter if you stay away.”

I pressed my hand to my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I can’t stay away. The guilt would eat me alive if I didn’t search for her.”

She leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees. “We will find her. Wherever she is, we will find her. Arsinua won’t hurt her or let her be hurt. She may have a lot of faults, but she is a tireless protector of the weak.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. I’d been wishing death on Arsinua’s head since finding her and my daughter missing. Marantha didn’t need to know what bloodthirsty thoughts ran around in my skull. So I didn’t speak. I bit down on my tears instead and prayed she was right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

 

 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I asked Marantha when we got back to her house. I’d tried talking her out of staying where she was, considering the Anforsa was off her rocker, but of course she’d refused.

“Oh, who knows anymore? I’m sure Kenda will come here and threaten me. She’s done it before.”

“Do you have any family or friends to stay with for a while?”

She crossed to the window and peeked out the curtain. “To what end? If the woman wants to find me, she’ll find me.”

“Not on Earth,” I said.

“Speaking of Earth.”

“Yeah?”

She looked out the window again, a faint frown on her face. “That vessel we put Arsinua into. Do you think your Skriven friend could find her?”

“Lucy?” I hadn’t thought about it, but now that she said it, it made sense. Was there a way for Ty to find her? Did Skriven put LoJack’s on their Formless Ones? “I’ll ask him. Marantha, why do you keep staring out the window and frowning?”

She twitched back the curtain, her face a mask. “It’s time for you to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Go now. Just go.”

The house shook as if hit by a powerful gust of wind. Glass shattered, and the curtains blew in from the windows. I almost went over onto my ass when the house shook again.

“What’s out there? Is she out there?” I shouted, clinging to the wall to keep myself upright.

“Go! Let her play her games.”

“She can’t hold me, Marantha.” I wanted to go outside and bust the Anforsa’s ass, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do any butt kicking while Kenda was mainlining the Omphalos.

“Send her out and you won’t be killed,” came a voice from outside. It was Kenda’s, amplified. The vibrations shook the walls and Marantha groaned.

“I just got done paying for the last bit of destruction,” she said, then raised her voice. “You do not have my permission to enter my house, Anforsa Kenda!” She glared at me and put her finger to her lips.

Plaster crumbled. A picture fell, hitting my shoulder as Kenda spoke again. “I know she’s in there. I smell the stink of her Skriven magic.”

“You are insane. Go away or the Council will hear about this.”

The laughter peeled the paint from the walls. The powder blue flakes sifted down on us like snow. “I am the Council. They are me. It has been decreed that Devany Miller pays with her life for her crimes. And any who help her will be considered traitors and will be executed.”

“I’m not helping anyone. Last I checked, we had laws. Laws that didn’t include murdering people we are scared of.”

I had to hand it to Marantha. She had big ole lady balls. I was terrified, but I could hook away if I had to. Marantha? Not so much. Still, she didn’t look scared so much as royally pissed off. She was scary when she was mad.

“Send her out now, and I will promise you a fair trial.”

Marantha made shooing motions with her hands. “Get out of here,” she whispered.

“Not without you,” I said quietly. “She’s insane.”

“I can handle her.”

More laughter. The witchballs that lit up Marantha’s living area fell off their pedestals, and I reeled back in fear. “Are they going to explode?”

Marantha ignored me. “Go on.”

“Not without you.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “I can handle Kenda. If she kills me, she’ll regret it. She can either let me alone or face rebellion.” Marantha shouted again, “Isn’t that right, Kenda?”

The house stopped shaking.

The silence was creepy.

“Go ahead. Come in here and grab me. You won’t find the person you’re looking for. You won’t find anything but trouble.” Marantha crossed the room to me and grabbed my arms. “Don’t make a liar out of me. Get out of here now. You won’t do me any good if any of the Council members sees you here. Right now, it’s her word against mine and I still have friends in high places. Go.”

“Damn it, Marantha. Don’t get yourself killed.”

Outside, the Anforsa shrieked her triumph. I hooked away as the side of Marantha’s house crumbled to dust.

Heart thundering, I stood in my bedroom at home and hoped to heck Marantha knew what she was doing. I didn’t need another death on my head, especially not the death of a friend.

 

***

 

Though I’d spent a little over an hour with Dad and Marantha, five hours had flown by on Earth. I had only ten minutes before Liam would be home, so I stripped off my blood-stained, tea-moistened clothes and scrubbed my face in the bathroom, wincing when I got soap in the cut from Kali’s knife.

Clean, I padded to the closet and pulled a comfy t-shirt off a shelf along with my favorite faded blue jeans. I slipped on blue underwear and bra, the lacy silk making me smile. I put my hair up in a messy bun, then stared at my reflection in the mirror. Faint purple circles shadowed my eyes and was it me or were there more wrinkles there than last time I looked?

Other books

Dial M for Ménage by Emily Ryan-Davis
The Wicked and the Wondrous by Christine Feehan
Catching Jordan by Miranda Kenneally
Jo Piazza by Love Rehab
The Mystery Horse by Gertrude Chandler Warner
Surviving Antarctica by Andrea White
Could This Be Love? by Lee Kilraine
Nobody’s Hero by j. leigh bailey
Road to Thunder Hill by Connie Barnes Rose