Blood Storm: The Second Book of Lharmell (24 page)

My mind fled from this. Far better to be dead than commit such deeds.

The backpack
. Where could it be? Was there any possibility we would even be able to find it? Smashing the master glass with us inside the cave would be suicide but at least we would take many of them out with us. I wondered if I could bear to break it, knowing that Rodden and I would probably die too. I wondered if I would even be given the chance.

Footsteps. The entranceway grew brighter. A figure appeared holding a lamp and a bucket. It was a man, tall and sallow with forearms as thick as tree branches and roughened with sparse black hairs. Blue veins stood out on his lined face, though his movements betrayed no stiffness. He paused to gaze down at Rodden and the look of relish on his grizzled features made my blood run cold.

He placed the lamp on a ledge and dumped the contents of the bucket over Rodden. The water ran red with his blood. Rodden groaned, and struggled
into a sitting position. There was dried blood on his top lip and chin and his face was a mess of bruises and swellings. The harming threw away the bucket and cut Rodden’s bindings. He winced in pain and relief as they fell away.

‘Are you okay?’ I croaked.

Rodden’s head snapped up. He saw me tied to the wall and his eyes widened. He turned to the harming. ‘What is she doing here? This has nothing to do with her.’

The man gave a short, barking laugh. ‘Come now. Are you very surprised?’ His voice was gravelly with age.

I glanced between the two men. There was bitterness on Rodden’s face.

‘You know each other?’ I asked.

‘Oh, we’re old friends,’ the man rasped, turning to me with a smile. The teeth that hadn’t yet dropped out of his head were black. His nose looked as if it had been broken several times. Puffy blue veins stood out all over his bald head. ‘Won’t you introduce us, my boy?’

His father?
But his father was dead.

Rodden gave a heavy sigh. ‘Zeraphina, this is Levin Servilock.’

EIGHTEEN

‘I
t’s you.’ I spluttered the words into the silence that ensued. Rodden had his face pressed against his knees. Servilock stood there grinning and looking between us. This was the man who had given Rodden Lharmellin blood. Who had made him kill his family and the girl he loved. A man clever enough to run a harming training enclave right in the middle of a city. And now he was here, in Lharmell.

‘You’re the new leader, aren’t you?’ I asked. My mind raced. ‘The way the harmings have changed their behaviour since we killed the Lharmellin leader – the way they seem more organised, more devious. That’s because of you. I’ve heard about you,’ I spat. ‘You’re a monster.’

He gave Rodden a vicious kick to the ribs, eliciting a yelp of pain. ‘Say that again, girl.’

I bit back my next words.

‘Very good.’ He paced around Rodden, looking down at him. ‘What a treat it is to have you both here. I knew my star pupil would return to me. I waited so long for him in Verapine, and then I thought, no. He won’t come back to me here. He’ll go to Lharmell. And it was here my real work began. I have galvanised the harmings into an inexorable force. Made them realise that they’re not slaves. That we are the ones with the true power, for we retain our human cunning. We are free to move about the world.’ He smiled his nasty smile. ‘And here you are, my boy.’ He looked up at me. ‘I must thank you, by the way. In the confusion and sorrow that followed the death of the Lharmellin leader I was able to take control of everything. All harmings look to me now.’

‘But do the Lharmellins? They don’t want to sing for you, do they? They’ve let Amentia become warm again.’

His lip curled into a snarl. ‘They’ll comply. They’ll see this is the right way. The Turnings continue. The ice will follow.’ He produced a knife and looked down at Rodden. ‘Now, down to business.’

My eyes widened. ‘No!’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What, this?’ he said, holding the weapon aloft. ‘Oh, it’s not for him, girl.’

Rodden started. ‘No, you can’t –’ He was kicked again for his efforts and lay on the ground, gasping.

Servilock approached me, crouching down to scrutinise my face. He was so close I could smell his fetid breath. ‘You’re not as pretty as the other one. She was milk and honey, all softness.’ His eyes roved over me. ‘You, you’re . . . pointy. As prickly as a kitten that can’t sheathe its claws.’

He must have meant Ilona. Milk and honey. And I was pointy. Even now the comparison made my heart twist with jealousy. No wonder he didn’t love me.

His eyes narrowed. ‘But you love him. That’s more than she did. Poor Rodden. I tried to tell him she was never going to marry him. He’s got such terrible taste in women, you see. They’re always landing him in trouble. Why, he wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you. That’s right, isn’t it?’ he rasped. ‘Wasn’t this all your idea?’

I seized upon his words. ‘Yes, it was me. I’m the one who killed the leader. This was all my idea. Let Rodden go, please. Throw me to the harmings. Let them rip me apart if that’s what you want. You’ve already done enough to Rodden.’

‘Hmm,’ he said, considering my words. ‘Not a bad little speech.’ He turned to Rodden. ‘Your turn, my boy. Care to beg for her life?’

Rodden’s face crumpled. ‘I’m sorry, Zeraphina.’ He seemed defeated.

‘What, is that all? But then, you never begged for Ilona’s life, either. It would have been strange if you had, though, since it was you who was killing her.’

Rodden was silent, and it frightened me. It was as if he’d already given up.

‘Girl,’ he said, ‘you’re looking at the future ruler of Lharmell. He will take my place once I am gone. He will be even greater than me. I trained him to be so. Under harming rule, Lharmell has flourished this last year. More harmings. Enclaves throughout the land. Under Rodden, it will thrive.’

‘He’ll never be like you,’ I spat.

Servilock smiled at me – a pitying smile. ‘We’d better get this started, don’t you think?’

Rodden looked up in time to see Servilock drag the point of the knife across my chest.

He scored me from collarbone to opposite shoulder. He grinned as he did it, his yellowed eyes bright. I screamed and kicked out at him, drowning out Rodden’s hollers of protest. My foot connected with the harming’s ribs and the knife jerked away.
I writhed in my bindings. Blood soaked the front of my dress. How was this going to end? I couldn’t see a way out, not when Rodden had already given up.

When my eyes stopped watering I noticed a dark shape in the corner, beyond where Rodden sat.

There it was. His backpack. It was out of my reach but Rodden could get to it easily. There was no way of telling him it was there, though, without alerting Servilock. But if I distracted Servilock it might give Rodden the chance to see it for himself.

‘Did you see that Turning?’ I asked, my voice shrill from pain.

Look up, you dolt
, I urged Rodden.
Look around
. He was eyeing the knife in Servilock’s grip and for a moment I wondered if he was thinking of a way to get it from him. But the misery and fear in his eyes made my hopes plummet. ‘Did you see me kill your leader?’

‘Don’t provoke him, Zeraphina. It will only be worse for you,’ Rodden said.

Stupid man. I wasn’t trying to provoke him, I was trying to distract him.

Servilock grinned at Rodden. ‘Ah, so you can feel it?’

‘Feel
what
?’ I asked.

Rodden nodded. ‘Yes. Please, let her go. Once was enough. Don’t make me do it again.’

‘Nonsense. You’ll enjoy yourself. Just like last time.’

Rodden squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Make her – make her like –’ He cut himself off.

‘What, Turn her? And have a constant reminder of your betrayal? I don’t think so.’

‘No!’ How could Rodden ask for such a thing? And what could he feel? Thanks to the laudanum I could feel nothing. I wondered dimly where Griffin could be, and hoped she hadn’t been caught. What if the Lharmellins had discovered the yelbar gas and removed it? But if they had, surely Servilock would be gloating over our thwarted plan.

‘Even afterwards, I’ll remember,’ Rodden said. ‘Just like last time. But this time I won’t run away. I’ll kill you the first chance I get.’

Well, this was more like it. ‘Don’t drink anything, Rodden. No matter what he does to me.’
Not while the bag is there
.
We still have a chance
.

The singing beyond our alcove reached a crescendo. Rodden moaned. A shudder went through him and he collapsed in a heap.

‘Rodden!’

‘Foolish girl,’ Servilock sneered.

‘What have you done to him?’

Servilock gazed down at his former pupil writhing
about on the floor. From the Turning place came the first unearthly scream of the frenzy.

‘No,’ I whispered.

Servilock knelt down and stroked Rodden’s black hair from his brow. ‘It is done. I gave him the blood hours ago.’

No!’ My screams were lost among the shrieking of the Turning ceremony. I pulled afresh at the ropes that bound my wrists but they did not give an inch. ‘Get away from him.’

Servilock looked up, eyes flashing. ‘He was never yours, girl. He was always mine. It was just a matter of time before he came back to me. Deep down, he knew I was here.’

‘No, he didn’t. He searched for you in Pol.’

Pleasure suffused his face. ‘You see. My students never desert me. They are bound to me. They love me.’

‘He wanted to kill you. He told me what you made him do to his family, to – that girl.’

A thousand voices rose in ecstasy. Rodden’s back arched. There was a scream of a dying Lharmellin, sacrificed so the harming numbers could grow.

‘He’s going to be hungry when he wakes up. He hasn’t fed in days.’

Rodden roared, the sound of an animal in pain.

‘He won’t hurt me.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ Servilock pinned me with his icy stare. ‘He’s not your Rodden any more. He’s becoming something else.’

The singing died away. Rodden stilled. He opened his eyes.

‘There,’ Servilock whispered.

I held my breath, waiting. He would know me. He had to know me.

Slowly, Rodden pulled himself upright. His nostrils flared.

‘Rodden?’

His head turned in my direction. His irises were white, the pupils pinned. Unable to help myself, I shrank back. He looked terrifying. He looked
hungry
.

‘It is messier when the blood is given before the ceremony,’ Servilock said. ‘But as you can see, it gets the job done.’ He stood back. ‘And it’s only going to get messier.’

Rodden’s eyes locked on the blood that trickled down my chest.

‘It’s me. Zeraphina,’ I said.

He gathered his legs under his body.

‘Rodden, it’s
me
.’

At the same moment I started to say, too late, far
too late, ‘Your pack, it’s behind you,’ he snarled and launched himself at me.

I would not scream because I refused to be afraid of him. This was Rodden. Rodden who’d bandaged my cuts. Who’d kissed my cheek and once, such a long time ago it seemed now, had given me the only kiss my lips had ever known. Rodden, who could never hurt me no matter how much he feared he might.

So why was it happening now?

His eyes were wide, the pupils tiny black dots in his pale irises. He snarled, his breath hot on my neck. The knife flashed. It sat at an odd angle in his hands, as if he was unaware of it being in his grasp. He grabbed at me – and the snarling died away. He enfolded me in a brutal embrace and he pressed himself against me, shuddering. Behind me the knife scraped against stone.

‘My love,’ he whispered. I felt dampness where he pressed his cheek against my own. ‘My love.’

My heart swelled fit to burst. He had not Turned! He knew me. Somehow, some way, the blood had not driven him out of his body. ‘Rodden. Oh, thank the stars.’ Our tears mingled. His hand stroked my hair, the knife still in his grasp. His other hand trailed over the gash on my breast.

‘Ilona,’ he whispered.

I stiffened. Over Rodden’s shoulder Servilock was grinning at me. I began to struggle. ‘No. Rodden, it’s me. Zeraphina.’ I tried to push him away from me, needing to see his face, but he held me fast. ‘Rodden, please.’ I searched for the thread between us. The laudanum had begun to fade but I was sluggish and it kept slipping from my grasp. The man at the other end didn’t feel right. He was still Rodden, but there was a sticky blackness to his insides that hadn’t been there before, as if they had been coated with tar.

‘Your bag,’ I said desperately. ‘It’s behind you.’

Rodden pulled back slightly and saw the blood that now coated his fingers. They dug into my flesh and the blood flowed more freely. His white eyes bored into mine. I saw the flash of silver out of the corner of my eye. The knife.

‘Rodden.’ The word was a thin shriek. My voice seemed to make him pause, for I didn’t feel the stab of the blade.

If he could remember Ilona from all those years ago then he could remember me. The hand that dug into my shoulder was the one that wore my silver ring. ‘On your hand,’ I gasped. ‘Look at the ring on your hand.’

He tightened the grip on the knife and raised it over his head.

‘Please,’ I begged. ‘Look at your hand.’ I angled
my shoulder towards his face, trying to get him to see it. I could sense the struggle going on beneath the surface. Rodden was in there somewhere.

‘Whose ring is that?’ I asked, urgent, my voice a whisper so Servilock wouldn’t overhear. ‘Where did you get it? Please, you have to remember. Look,’ I said, indicating my hands above me. ‘I have the same one. Do you remember when I gave it to you on the battlements?’

We were both breathing hard. He didn’t move, staring at me.

‘
Say
something,’ I pleaded.

His gaze shifted to my hands. Back at his. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes and the pupils dilated for just a moment.

Then the snarl returned.

I would not let myself be frightened. No matter how much he snarled, how shocking his eyes looked, how hungry he was, Rodden was still in there. And I was going to reach him. ‘Listen, you stubborn, arrogant jerk,’ I commanded, quelling the waver in my voice, ‘for once in your life listen to what I’m saying and
remember who you are
.’

He opened his mouth as if to speak. I held my breath, certain he was going to say my name, and then –

He kissed me. My heart plummeted. He didn’t know me. He still thought I was Ilona. Rodden would never kiss me like this. It was the kiss he’d given me in the ballroom in Pergamia. The kiss that was supposed to be the first, and the last. It had been a goodbye kiss, one to send me home. And now it was goodbye again. He must have kissed Ilona just like this. Just before he killed her. His arms encircled me, his hands holding me tight to his body. The hands that still held the knife. I kissed him back because it was the last thing I would ever do. He was gone. Servilock had won. The harmings had won. Tears leaked from the corners of my closed eyes. I still loved him. I would always love him, though always was almost over.

He broke the kiss. ‘Zeraphina,’ he breathed.

His knife cut through the ropes at my wrists and they fell away. Then he launched himself at the pack in the corner.

I don’t know who was more shocked, me or Servilock. Rodden landed on the pack and I heard the crack of glass. A split second later a hundred glass balls shattered in unison.

Servilock stood agog, confused by what had just happened, not knowing what the breaking glass meant.

‘Zeraphina,’ Rodden said again, and my name on his lips invigorated me. The knife came skittering over the rock floor towards me. I grasped the hilt in my stiff fingers.

‘You disobey me –’ Servilock began. But then the screams started. A handful at first, confused and high, unlike those of the Turning frenzy. Screams of agony. Then the whole Turning place beyond our alcove erupted in shrieks.

Servilock staggered and braced himself against the cave wall.

‘You can feel them dying, can’t you?’ said Rodden. ‘They’re all going to die. Every last one. And you as well.’ He pulled a yelbar knife from his pack.