Canes of Divergence (36 page)

“Not straight home,” Ben warned. “The gate needs to be closed immediately, if
you can.”

“I can close the gate,” Owen said. “I know how.”

“Owen,” Ben crouched down next to him, looking in his eyes. “You can’t
ever
open that gate again. You know that, right? It doesn’t matter what happens, or if you miss this place, or even if you think Quinn needs you. You can’t open it.”

“I know.” His voice trembled a little. “I’m going to throw the magnet in the river.”

Zander set his hand on Owen’s shoulder. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they would get through this.

“Zander,” Ben said, holding his hand out. When Zander took it, the guard squeezed it tightly. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“An honor for me, Ben. Really. Thank you for everything.”

Ben smiled. “On to new adventures, right?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, it’s almost sunset.”

Zander slung the backpack over his shoulder, and reached for Owen’s hand with the other. The weight of the knife was awkward at his belt, but he wanted Ben to see that he took the warning seriously, so he kept it there.

They were nearly to the top step of the bridge when he heard it – a sound that was terribly out of place in this world, but that he would have recognized anywhere. The cocking of a gun.

He whirled around at the same time all three guards did.

“Now this – this is interesting,” said the man standing there. One of the men, Zander corrected himself, because there were two of them.

He recognized the black-haired man from the riverbank immediately – Rahas. The man who’d killed Quinn’s grandfather – and possibly her father as well.

Zander had never before felt the kind of cold, raw anger that slammed through him when he saw Rahas – he didn’t even know where it came from – perhaps it was flowing out of Rahas himself, from his dark, lifeless eyes.

But it wasn’t Rahas who had spoken.

There was another man there. He was shorter, also dark-haired, but not the strange midnight coloring of Rahas. And though Rahas was the one with the gun pointed right at Zander, the other man was smiling.

“Queen Quinn’s top advisor and his son, the guard – along with the head of King Stephen’s guards, sneaking off to another world.” He shook his head. “I do wonder what Her Majesty’s people would think. Whoever are your friends?”

“What are you doing here, Tolliver?” Marcus asked.

Tolliver
. Even the name set Zander’s skin crawling.

“I could ask you the same thing,
Marcus
Westbrook
. Your little party here wouldn’t have anything to do with the gate not working properly these past several moons and my guard here being stuck in a different world, would it?”

“Go,” Ben hissed, pulling out his sword. Zander pushed Owen up onto the step above him and moved his body in front of the little boy’s.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

To prove Tolliver’s point, Rahas pointed the weapon just slightly to the side and fired a single shot.

Owen jumped at the noise, but nobody else did. The guards were apparently as aware as Zander was of the weapon’s capabilities. While Tolliver and Rahas were focused on the bullet’s path into the water, though, Zander nudged Owen up onto the last step, and climbed up one more himself.

Zander could see that Rahas’ shot had gone just slightly wide – while he’d clearly fired a weapon before, he still didn’t handle the kickback perfectly.

“You need to get it,” he whispered under his breath, hoping his voice would carry far enough for at least one of the guards to hear him.

He knew they needed to get their hands on the weapon, but
he didn’t know what to do. Getting himself and Owen through the gate was the top priority, but he didn’t want to leave the three of them alone here until they had that gun – and it wasn’t just that. Tolliver carried a sword, and he was probably even better with it than his partner was with the gun.

Somehow, he also needed
to keep them from following him – to keep Owen safe.

Ben still hadn’t put his sword away, and now Marcus and Luke were drawing theirs.

“Drop your weapons,” Tolliver said.

As surreptitiously as he could, Zander slid the backpack from his shoulder to Owen’s hand, still twined in his. “Go,” he whispered. “I’ll come in a minute.”

“No, Zander. He might shoot you.”

That’s better than him shooting you
, Zander wanted to hiss, but Tolliver was listening to everything.

He dropped Owen’s hand and pushed the boy a little further behind him.

But Tolliver noticed the movement. “Stay right there.”

The sky was growing dimmer by the minute. Much later, and Owen would have been able to sneak away in the dark –
except the gate would be closed then.

For several seconds, time stood absolutely still.

Just as Zander was considering how fast he’d have to run to catch Rahas off guard and get that weapon out of his hands – Rahas
probably
wasn’t good enough with the weapon to hit a quickly moving target – Ben glanced up at them and then turned back to Tolliver. In horrified fascination, Zander saw what he was going to do before he did it, but before he could yell at him to stop, Ben swung his sword and advanced.

Zander
turned and shoved Owen backwards, apologizing to him just as the crack of the gun filled the air.

Two things registered in Zander’s mind at once – first, that Owen was gone, safely on the other side of the bridge
. Second, that Ben had been hit, enough to knock him to his knees. The information was secondary to the motion of his body, though. Grabbing the knife at his belt, he bolted down the stairs as fast as he could move, heading for Rahas – the man wasn’t skilled enough with the gun to get off another good shot quickly enough to stop him.

He didn’t know what the guards were doing behind him. There was motion, and there was noise
. Something heavy hit his side, but his goal was singular.

The knife made contact exactly where he wanted it to – the soft spot at the base of Rahas’ throat at the same time Rahas brought his hands to Zander’s neck, one of them still holding the gun.

The weapon fired, but the bullet flew uselessly into the air. Zander’s ears were ringing so badly he couldn’t hear anything.

It took all of his anger – his
rage
– and his determination, but he did it. With a sharp thrust, he shoved the knife in as deeply as he could before jerking it sharply to the side.

The gun fell to the ground, but Rahas didn’t give up. Both hands now free, they closed around Zander’s neck, gripping tightly.

With the man’s fingers choking him, he almost panicked and lost his resolve. But with a final burst of fury, Zander managed to tug the knife in the opposite direction, finally causing the man’s grip to loosen, and Rahas to fall beside his weapon.

His relief was short-lived, though, as a different sensation hit the side of his neck – the tip of Tolliver’s sword.
Crap.
Zander’s knife was still in Rahas’ neck.

“Who are you?” Tolliver spit through his teeth.

Zander didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t even worry about the weapon touching him – he was more worried about the gun still on the ground. Tolliver was edging toward it, but Zander’s foot was closer. He kicked, hard, at the gun, sending it flying away from them and toward Marcus.

The tip of the sword pierced the side of his neck, but by then, Marcus had the gun. “Drop it, Tolliver. Now.”

When Tolliver didn’t drop the sword immediately, Marcus fired. Tolliver fell; blood immediately pouring from his lower leg.

Zander scrambled away, back toward the guards and the bridge. Ben was on his feet again – relief washed over him a fraction of a second before terror struck again, in the form of movement in the trees.

Tolliver and Rahas weren’t alone. A third, enormous, fully-armed man was walking toward them.

Marcus pointed the gun and shot again.

He missed. The man kept coming.

“Zander, GO!” Marcus yelled.

Running up the steps of the bridge in near darkness now, Zander couldn’t help but watch. The man stopped when he got to Tolliver, kneeling down.

“Don’t shoot again,” he hissed at Marcus. “There’s only one more round.” If he discharged it, they’d know he was out of ammunition.

“Just
go
, Zander.”

He almost did, almost took the last two steps to safety, but he looked back once more, just in time to see Ben sway, and take a stumbling step forward to catch himself.

“Sorry Owen,” he whispered.

The sun disappeared completely as he ran back down the steps toward Ben.

Marcus still had the gun trained on Tolliver.

Zander reached Ben, steadying him and helping him down to the ground, putting his body between Ben and Tolliver.
The gunshot wound was in Ben’s abdomen; blood already covered the front of his shirt.

“I’m fine,” Ben whispered, “albeit a little messy.”
Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead, and his features were turning a dusky gray.

Zander wished he believed him. He looked around, but he didn’t have anything – the backpack had disappeared with Owen. Shrugging out of his jacket, he pulled off the shirt he was wearing so he could press it against Ben’s wound.

“I have more men, Marcus. If you shoot at me again, you’re going to find yourself outnumbered quickly. You’ll never get your son out of here.” Even injured and on the ground, Tolliver’s voice was mocking. “If you let me go now, I’ll leave you alone.

The man who’d come to assist him stood over him now, his sword at the ready, and Tolliver was likely still capable of inflicting damage.

“He’s lying. He’s a coward. Now that he doesn’t have Rahas, he knows he needs to get out of here.” Ben said, even though it was now clear that just the effort of saying it was painful.

“What difference does it make if he’s lying?” Zander tried to make his voice loud enough that Marcus could hear, but not enough to for it to carry to Tolliver and his new accomplice. “We have one bullet. If we miss with that, all that’s left is direct combat, and we don’t outmatch them by much. In the meantime, we don’t get you to help.”

“Leave me. Go after him.”

The blood had already soaked through Zander’s shirt. Ben was growing weaker; he could barely lift his head.

Across from them, Tolliver was on his feet again.

“And what if he’s not lying?” Marcus asked.

Suddenly, behind Tolliver, there was a crunching sound in the trees.

“Make your decision, Marcus,” Tolliver said, sneering at them.

Marcus fired the gun.

Hope surged inside Zander as Tolliver went reeling backwards; the man with him scrambled to catch him.

But when Tolliver righted himself again, they could see that while he had been hit, it was only in his left arm – not likely a fatal blow. His right hand was still wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

A seco
nd man stepped out of the trees, making Zander remember every curse word he’d ever used in his life.

“Now are you tired of your little game, Marcus? Your son is going to die if you don’t get him out of here – your hesitation may have killed him already.”

Ben was right. Tolliver was a coward. As soon as Marcus and Luke lowered their swords to their sides, he slunk away, supported by his comrades. They didn’t even attempt to take Rahas’ body with them.

“There aren’t any more of them!” as weak as Ben was his anger was stronger.
“They could just come back and ambush us! This is your chance to kill him!”

“With what?” Marcus asked, dropping to his knees on the ground beside his son. “They’re better armed – we didn’t come here prepared for a fight. He won’t come back. He’s t
oo concerned about his own skin – he just shot a royal – and his men are too concerned about losing him.”

A few feet away from them, Luke had already summoned a bird and was furiously scribbling a note.

“You’re better than them. They’re cowards. They’d lose.”

“
We’d
lose, too. I’m not going to leave you here to go chasing after him. He’s not worth it, Ben.”

The look Ben gave his father was one that Zander wouldn’t be able to get out of his head for the rest of his life – it was a look that shredded something deep inside of him.

“You’re going to lose me anyway,” Ben said, his voice still stronger than it should have been. “I can’t get on a horse, I can’t even get off the ground.”

“I’ve sent a message,” Luke said, coming over to them, “asking for help. Someone will come.”

Ben shook his head. “It won’t be in time. I don’t have enough time.”

“Don’t say that,” Marcus said, his voice growing desperate. “Nathaniel and William will know what to do.”