Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (19 page)

Her distress hit Caldan hard. He felt helpless.

His sessions with Bells seemed to progress, but the reality was, unless he gave in to her wants, along with releasing her, Miranda might never be whole again.

And Amerdan avoided any questions directed at him about his uncanny speed and skill. The shopkeeper had secrets, that much was obvious, and it made his decision to leave Anasoma and come with them suspect. Caldan vowed to get him alone and press him for answers, though the shopkeeper had kept his distance so far and the man’s lack of enthusiasm made his suspicious. And the ease with which Amerdan had butchered the sorcerer filled him with disquiet.

Caldan questioned a train of peasants they met on the road and told Amerdan, Elpidia, and Bells to pick up their pace in the hope they could reach the city before nightfall. Disappointed at first, he nevertheless felt relieved when they decided to camp one last night and approach the city gates in the morning.

From the top of a hill, they looked down on lights too numerous to count, bathing the sky. The stars had become muted compared to their nights in the countryside. A winding ribbon of reflected, silver moonlight bordered one side of the lights. A river. He guessed the city was at least as large as Anasoma, though much flatter, situated as it was on a plain.

Caldan glanced at Bells, who trailed behind Elpidia, the rope around her neck firmly in Amerdan’s grasp.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he turned back to the others.

“Tomorrow, I’ll enter the city,” he announced. “There’s much the Protectors need to know, and we can’t wait any longer. Who knows what’s happened while we’ve been traveling here.”

Elpidia lowered her gaze and shook her head, while Amerdan nodded slowly. The shopkeeper took a step forward.

“We’ll stay here with Miranda and Bells while you’re inside. I imagine you might be gone a few days?”

“Maybe. I… yes, probably. They’ll question me at length, then want me to remain while they verify my story.”

“That could take days, weeks even!” exclaimed Elpidia. “We’ve been on the road long enough. I can’t delay my experiments any longer. I just can’t!”

Caldan held up a hand in an effort to placate her. “I won’t wait around for days, I promise. I’ll leave. The day after tomorrow, at the latest.”

“What if they don’t let you go?”

“They’ve no reason to disbelieve what I say. I’m sure I can convince them.” Caldan’s hand moved to rest on the pommel of his sword. The others didn’t need to know about it. Besides, he had promised Simmon he would deliver the blade back to the Protectors. It wasn’t his to keep.

Elpidia looked unconvinced. Amerdan’s face remained blank.

“Well,” chimed in Bells. “Can we stop all this navel gazing and get started on dinner? I don’t know about you lot, but I’m famished.”

With a jerk on the rope, Amerdan forced her to stumble to her knees. “Quiet,” he hissed.

Elpidia frowned at him, while Caldan stepped over to relieve him of the rope.

“I’ll look after her,” he said. Amerdan’s behavior could be erratic at times, and he didn’t like the way he treated Bells. He needed her cooperation.

Amerdan handed him the rope without fuss, a slight shrug of his shoulders showing he didn’t care who looked after the sorcerer. Bells’ eyes flashed with contempt at him, and she sneered, though kept silent.

“Tonight, you’re teaching me more,” Caldan told Bells, his voice hard. He met her eyes. “Any tricks you decided not to tell me, this time you’d better not hold back. Because tomorrow I’m going into the city to see the Protectors, and I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. If I think you’ve been stringing me along and deceiving me, then I will hand you over to them. Do not doubt I will do this. If you want to stay out of their hands, then tonight is your chance to give me a reason why.”

“Caldan,” Elpidia said, “maybe you should just give her to them. I mean…” She waved a hand, flustered. “You don’t know if the Protectors can heal Miranda.”

“They can’t,” snarled Bells.

“But you don’t know that,” said Elpidia. “What is her word worth? Maybe they can.”

“If you hand me to them, you’ll never see me again. They’ll kill me, and Miranda will remain the way she is. Do you want to be spooning her porridge every day? Wiping her drool and cleaning up after her for the rest of her life?”

Caldan’s hands gripped the rope tighter; his knuckles went white. So far, despite Bell’s often complex explanations, he was nowhere near to understanding and using coercive sorcery. Either she was holding back, or she really couldn’t teach him with the time and the resources they had available. Tonight, he meant to pressure her, to push her into revealing as much as he could. If he could trust what she said… She had vowed to kill all of them after all.

Caldan broke eye contact with Bells and glanced at Amerdan, then Elpidia. “It’s decided. Tomorrow, you can both stay here with Bells and Miranda, while I enter the city. It’s dangerous. I won’t pretend it isn’t. There could be someone else following.”

“They wouldn’t send others after the first one,” Elpidia said. “They’d send them together.”

“Maybe, maybe not. The Bleeder could have been the frontrunner.” Caldan turned his back on the lights below them and began walking down the hill toward the wagon. “Let’s make camp.”

•

Caldan’s stomach growled. He gritted his teeth against the gnawing in his gut. He was starving, and had been for the last few days, but their meager provisions hadn’t allowed him to eat his fill. Tomorrow, he could enjoy a filling meal at the Protectors’ expense, safe under their roof and among friends. Friends he might be lying to.

A sprinkling of stars shone through the cloudy night sky; a brighter glow to the north indicated the moon was rising. This far from the road, the air was sweeter, though still redolent of the nearby farms rather than wilderness.

He removed his arm from around Miranda’s shoulders and brushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes reflected the orange flames of their campfire. She showed no sign she felt his touch.

Caldan thought for a moment, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. The gesture left him feeling hollow and awkward. After all, she couldn’t say no if she wanted to.

He rose, brushed dirt from his trousers, picked up a waterskin, then roamed around their camp. Elpidia had her head buried in her leather kit, muttering to herself, bottles clinking. She looked up at him as he passed, face grim, then returned to whatever she was up to. A strange woman, wrestling with the bleak reality that afflicted her.

Amerdan sat away from the fire, sharpening his knives. The scrape of metal on the whetstone grated on Caldan’s nerves, but he wanted to question Amerdan before he disappeared on one of his nightly walks. He had no idea what the man did while away from camp, but he felt safer with him out there.

“We need to talk,” Caldan said.

Amerdan shook his head and pointed at Bells, then Elpidia. “Not where others can hear. And maybe never.”

“What do you mean, maybe never? You have to tell me what’s going on!”

“Calm down, and lower your voice.”

Caldan realized he’d taken a few steps toward Amerdan, who had stopped honing his knives and pointed one directly at him. Caldan held up his hands and backed away a step.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just… I have to find out what we are. It’s important.”

“In good time.”

“But I need to know!”

“And can I trust you? When you couldn’t get what you wanted from Bells, you almost struck her.” Amerdan raised his eyebrows. “You’re barely in control of yourself. And the secrets I possess… they’re not for everyone. The knowledge I have came at a great cost to myself, and others. You think I’ll just hand it over because you ask?”

Caldan’s brow furrowed. “What will it take, then? What do you want from me?”

“Ah, now you’re thinking. Everyone wants something from everyone else. But what do I want…?” Amerdan’s voice trailed off, as if he were pondering his own question. He stood and sheathed his knives, and tucked away the whetstone. “I’m going for a walk. Maybe we’ll talk again in the morning. But you need to convince me you’re trustworthy, and I’ll want something in return.”

With that, Amerdan turned his back and disappeared into the darkness.

Caldan kicked at the ground, sending dirt flying. By the ancestors, the answers were so close. He could feel them, just out of reach. Elpidia gave him an exasperated look before continuing her tasks.

Bells leant against a tree, having been fed and watered by Elpidia earlier. Caldan snorted. They were treating her like a horse, like cattle. He wasn’t proud of what they were doing, what he was doing and asking the others to go along with.

He strolled closer to Bells. She watched him approach through half-lidded eyes.

Caldan smiled. He squatted in front of her, then drew his knife. Crickets chirped around them.

Bells watched the blade as he held it up. In the inadequate light, it was barely visible, an almost insignificant thing. She eyed him warily, pushing further against the tree.

He slid the knife between her hands and began sawing. She whimpered as the rope grated against her chafed wrists, then sighed as her bindings fell to the ground. Her feet were still bound, as they were every night, so he was reassured she couldn’t escape.

Caldan put his knife away and held up the waterskin. “Give me your hands,” he said.

Bells hesitated then held them out, fingers bound with cloth. He poured water over her tender wrists. She hissed at the pain then quieted as the cool water soothed her wounds. As gently as he could, he rubbed away the dried blood.

“I’ll ask Elpidia to apply one of her ointments later. I’m sure she has something in that kit of hers.”

Bells rotated both her wrists, shook her hands, and then flexed her fingers. She didn’t speak.

Caldan sat cross-legged in front of her. He placed the waterskin next to him, ran a hand through his short hair, and stared off into the darkness. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll be either in chains in the Protectors’ custody, or here with Amerdan and Elpidia.”

Bells licked her lips, eyes flicking this way and that. “She’s been drinking something from a vial. Tiny furtive sips,” said Bells with a tight smile. She watched his reaction curiously.

“No, she wouldn’t. She…” He stopped. His stomach churned at the thought of Elpidia drinking his blood. She must be getting desperate. She hadn’t been able to experiment and was trying anything she could in her search to cure herself.

“I’ve watched her. Little dabs on her finger. She stares at it, wondering if it could save her. Then… she sucks at it greedily, like a child with a sweet.” She sniggered.

Caldan grimaced with distaste. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and hardened his tone. “If you don’t teach me something tangible by the morning, I will deliver you to the Protectors and take my chances they can heal Miranda.”

Bells remained silent and regarded him coolly, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow the only indication she was worried.

“I’ll leave your hands untied and give you some time to think about what I’ve said.”

“Leave the water,” Bells said.

Caldan pushed the skin toward her then rose. He turned and made his way over to Miranda.

•

“Well, well,” came a soft voice from above Bells, pitched to carry to her ears. A slight movement revealed Amerdan perched in the foliage. “He’s taken his time. Talk about leaving things to the last moment.”

Bells didn’t react. She reached for the water, dragging it to her side. She used the movement to speak, lips barely moving.

“He’s not suited for this game,” she replied softly.

Wind whispered through the leaves for a few moments before Amerdan replied. “Not yet. He will be, though. Sooner than you think.”

Bells only grunted in reply.

“Don’t forget our deal,” reminded Amerdan “He’s mine. Do not touch him. You can have the woman, Elpidia, if you want. She’s nothing to me.”

Bells shook her head slightly.

“Ah, you don’t want her. Why would you, I suppose? She’s only a burden. A nobody, a nothing.” Amerdan paused, moving down a branch, closer to Bells.

Even this close to him, she was hard pressed to see him move, and he made no sound. Her hands clenched momentarily; they shook. She folded her arms, hiding her weakness from his sight.

A faint rustle alerted her to the fact Amerdan now crouched on the ground close to her, behind the tree, hidden from the camp. She could hear him breathing. His closeness, and the sound, sent shivers up her spine. The hair on her arms stood on end.

“Are you going to teach him anything?” Amerdan asked curiously.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “I don’t know.”

“Come now, you must have some idea.”

“I think I might have to.”

“To gain his trust? I understand. If he decides to hand you over to the Protectors, it could go badly for both of us.” His hand reached around the tree and stroked a lock of her hair. She froze.

“If I were you,” Amerdan continued, “I’d show him something tangible. We don’t need the Protectors coming into this.”

Bells nodded slowly. “I understand. I could deal with the Protectors easily, if I had my
craftings
, but it would draw attention to me, attention I don’t need.”

The hand patted her on the shoulder then withdrew.

“Good. We understand each other, then. No point adding complications.”

She felt rather than heard him back away from the tree.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then. Until tomorrow. Sleep well.”

Bells waited, listening for signs Amerdan had gone. She couldn’t discern anything over the sounds of the night—wind, crickets, the crackle of their fire.

She breathed deeply in an attempt to calm herself. Amerdan was a complex man, and so far had shown himself to possess many talents. He intrigued her. And if she was honest with herself, even though she feared him, he was a remarkably handsome man.

•

“Well,” said Caldan, his voice weary from the strain of the last few hours. His fingers pressed into the back of his neck, digging at his muscles in an effort to relieve the pain. “My head’s about to burst.”