Emergence (Book 2) (10 page)

Garek shrugged. "See no reason why not. So long as Dafyd can remain here?"

Nialyne nodded. "Absolutely. I dare anyone to attempt to pry him from Konly's care."

"What of a cart and supplies?" Garek asked.

"I have a cart waiting
, and have already begun collecting what we need for the journey."

"And we'll take
only
what we need," Bolin said. "We have to travel light. I'll ask you again, Alyne--"

"The answer is the same, Bolin. You won't dissuade me."

He shook his head but knew better than to continue the argument.

"Is that bothering you?"

Bolin followed Nialyne's gaze, and realized he'd been rubbing the spot of the witch's wound again. "No." He rolled the map to give his hands something else to do. "Garek can help draw up a list of supplies. Keep an accounting to present to the Emperor. We'll travel within the Greensward as long as possible before veering north."

"Which will be how long?" Garek asked.

"Two days. We'll camp at the border, and then strike out cross-country to Broadhead. From there, the road to Nisair."

Garek gave Bolin a look suggest
ing he had something on his mind that would stay there until they were alone. "So we're looking at a journey of a fortnight, give or take?"

"Aye." Far too much time to be dangling Ciara under Donovan's nose. "Make sure we've enough to see us all the way to Nisair, at the least. There's no guarantee we'll get the opportunity to stop at Broadhead."

"I get the sense there's little guarantee we'll make it three leagues beyond these borders."

"I believe I'll leave you gentlemen to work out the details of our journey without me," Nialyne said. "I've much to set in order before we depart. Commander, please see to it that the good General eats at some point during the day. He has a tendency to forego such basic necessities when something is gnawing at him."

Bolin scowled at her for the comment, but Garek gave her a jaunty wink and a bow from the waist. "Since eating is something I try never to skimp on, I will insist he join me, Lady. Never fear." He waited until the door closed behind Nialyne before turning a more serious face toward Bolin. "You're elsewhere this morning. It's making me uneasy."

"We're never going to make it to Nisair. Dain's a complete and utter idiot if he thinks we will."

Garek's eyes rounded. "Well, that did exactly nothing to put me at ease."

"What were your orders?" Bolin asked. "Exactly."

Garek puckered his lips, clicking his tongue as though trying to come up with a suitable answer. He clasped his hands behind his back, started to speak, appeared to think better of it, then shrugged. "Well, here's the thing, they included instructions to not divulge to you exactly what my orders are."

"I see." Bolin paced to the fireplace and glanced down at the remaining coals, glowing faintly red. "If I were to tell you that once I set you on the road to Nisair, I'll be heading elsewhere, what would you say?"

He looked over his shoulder at Garek. The big man closed his eyes and made a noise deep in his throat. "I'd ask you, on the strength of our friendship, to not put me in that situation."

"I thought as much. Let me ask you another question."

"Can I have a drink first? I've a feeling I'm not going to care much for anything you have to say this morning."

Bolin ignored him. "Did you actually volunteer to join this little venture? Or did Dain choose you himself?"

"Dammit, Bolin." Garek got his drink, downing one glass before refilling it and turning. He rested his rump against the sideboard. "You know the Emperor better than anyone. You can answer that question for yourself, along with his reasons, and every other nit that's pestering you. We're your escort.
Your
escort. Understand?"

Bolin understood all too well. "How much time were you given?"

Garek emptied the glass a second time. "Till next moon." He wiped his mouth with his hand, then set his glass on the table. "Now let me ask you a question. What's crawled up your backside that's got you twisted in a knot this morning?"

Now Bolin needed a drink, but he didn't go for one. He rested his hand against the mantel and stared at the embers without seeing them. Instead, he saw Donovan, and over his shoulder the dusky skinned Dominion witch. The look of triumph on both their faces made his blood run cold.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" Garek asked. He came up beside Bolin and passed him a glass of heather wine. "Because I'd rather know what we're likely to be up against before we meet it."

"Are the men yours?"

"As in, did I train them? Aye. As in, did I hand pick them for the escort? Same answer. Bolin," Garek rested his hand on Bolin's shoulder and caught his gaze squarely with his own, "you've got the best escort in the empire, and we've got the best general leading us. So either share your concerns or let them go. But if you keep brooding like a thundercloud over the Inlet, there's not going to be enough drink in all the Greensward to see us through today."

"The honest truth is I don't know what we'll meet along the way," Bolin said. "I wasn't sure Donovan was alive until the attacks on your men and the messenger. I've no doubt of it now. But he's unpredictable. The only thing I know for certain is that he won't stop until he has Ciara."

"And if succeeds in getting her?"

"That can't happen."

"Then we'll insure it doesn't. You and the Lady handle all the spooky stuff. The lads and I will take care of the rest."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ciara didn't sleep much the remainder of the night. Dreams plagued her, leaving nothing but a vague unease in their wake. She rose with the dawn, dressed, and arrived at the healer hut before Konly. Their two patients rested more peacefully than she had. Ciara didn't disturb them. She cleaned up and organized the surgery, then made a list of herbs that were
running low. By the time the master healer arrived, Ciara had scrounged up a basket and made her way to the herb garden.

"Goodness, girl, you'll have yourself worn out before the morning's half over," Konly said.

"I'd rather keep busy," Ciara said. "Besides, the fresh air will do me wonders. Right?"

Konly grinned. "That's what we tell our patients. But don't over-do. I don't want to come out here and find you fainted under the tree."

"I promise, no fainting."

Konly studied her for a moment longer, then nodded and went inside. Ciara checked her list and peered about the small garden with its neatly tended and orderly rows. It looked just like her aunt Meriol's garden, only
much larger. An image of her aunt flittered behind her eyes. Almost two moon cycles had passed since Meriol's death and the pain still haunted her. She'd never had a chance to properly grieve, and now it seemed as though the time for that had passed by, leaving a hollowness around Ciara's heart that couldn't be filled.

And now other emotions vied for her attention. Like fear. Like the fact that they would be traveling to Nisair with Donovan hunting
her every step of the way. And what had Bolin said about him having a new ally? One that worried Nialyne?

It does not worry me.

Ciara flinched at Andrakaos's voice in her head. She hadn't even thought of him.

It is impossible for you to not think of me. We are one.

She gritted her teeth and refused to engage him, willing him back to sleep. His sigh filtered through her like a quiet breeze as he nestled beneath Nialyne's blanket of magic, and she let it out as one of her own.

"Excuse me."

Ciara jumped at the unexpected intrusion, knocking her basket over. Her scowl faded as the man responsible for startling her swung his legs over the low, stone wall around the garden and dropped lightly down, coming to help her gather her scattered herbs. He wore a deep blue tabard, the Imperial crest emblazoned in silver across the front. Leather bracers covered his forearms, and a knife hung at his right hip.

"I'm really sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's all right," Ciara said. She wiped her hands on her skirt as she straightened. "I was just lost in thought."

He ran his fingers through the tangled waves of his light brown hair, sweeping it back from his face, but an errant lock seemed insistent on falling forward. He couldn't have had too many years on Ciara, but
something in his clear chestnut-colored eyes made him seem far older and wiser.

"I was hoping to see Dafyd," he said.

"Dafyd?" Ciara's brow furrowed. "Oh, the guard from last night? I think he's still sleeping. He needs all the rest he can get right now."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"I believe so. If you'd like to come by later in the day, I'm sure Konly would let you see him then."

"Konly?"

"The master healer," Ciara said.

"Oh." He smiled, his cheeks dimpling. "I thought you were a bit young to be her. I'm Berk. I'm with the
Imperial Guard."

"Yes, I can see that." Ciara gave a pointed look toward his uniform.

He glanced down, rubbing his jaw as he gave her a sheepish look. "Ah, I guess that is rather obvious. It's been a rough couple of days."

A sudden pang of guilt cut through her. Bolin had said the guard had been attacked on the road, and a guess set the blame on Donovan. Which
likewise set the blame on her.

"I'm sorry," Ciara said.

Berk's smile faded as he glanced off into the distance. "One of our men didn't make it. He saved our lives. I'd like to see him if I could?"

"I can take you."

"I don't mean to take you away from your work," he said. "If you could just point me in the right direction..."

"I'm done here anyhow." Ciara lifted her basket from where she had set it. "Let me just take this inside."

She deposited her collection of herbs on the table, made one last check on the two wounded men, and went back out to join Berk. She gestured in the general direction of the grieving house and they started walking.

"It's beautiful here," Berk said, as they made their way along the creek bank. "It must have been a wonderful place to grow up."

"Oh, I don't live here," Ciara said. "I'm just...visiting. Actually," she chewed at her lower lip, "I think I'm why you're here."

Berk's brow furrowed. Ciara glanced up at him, uncertain if he'd be angry that she caused his friend's death.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "You're the girl we're to escort to Nisair?"

"Apparently."

"The way everyone referred to 'the girl', I assumed we were escorting a child, not a woman." His easy smile returned. "Well, that will make the trip much more enjoyable."

Ciara averted her gaze, a blush coloring her cheeks.

"Goddess's light," Berk said. "I shouldn't have been so forward. My old gram would have my hide for that. Too much time among the lads, she'd tell me, and then I'd get a wallop alongside the head." He chuckled at that. "She didn't stand much higher than my chest, but no one dared argue with her."

"It sounds as though you might have tried a time or two."

He grinned, and a light twinkled in his eyes. "I could outrun her, so I thought I was safe. Then, when I least expected it, she'd set my ears to ringing."

Ciara laughed
, and it felt like the first time in ages.

***

"Looks like Berk's found a way to fill his morning," Garek said as he and Bolin made their way toward the healing house.

Bolin followed Garek's gaze, and his jaw clenched at the sight of Ciara walking with
a soldier. Then she threw her head back and laughed, and an unfamiliar feeling twisted through him.

"That," he said, his voice tight, "would be the girl we're taking to Nisair."

"Girl?" Garek shook his head. "Now, I realize you're a damn sight older than me, but that, my lad, is no girl. That, in the event you hadn't noticed, which a blind man would, is a woman. And a fine looking one at that."

Bolin pulled his attention off the pair. Garek studied him as they walked, a curious expression playing across his face. When his mouth twitched in ill-concealed humor, Bolin scowled at him. "Let it be, Garek."

"So, you have noticed, then?"

"I said to let it be."

Garek threw his hands up, but the mirth remained. "Not another word. But if you'd like, I'll warn Berk off her. He's got a natural charm with the ladies."

"What part of 'let it be' sounded like a request, Commander?" Bolin slid Garek a look as dark as his mood had suddenly gotten. Most men on the receiving end of it would have headed the other direction. Garek, however, merely tucked his thumbs through his belt, and started whistling a jaunty tune, the grin still lighting up his face.

Bolin's gaze drifted back to Ciara and Berk just as a young girl ran up to them in apparent distress. She waved her arms, gesturing in the direction of the grieving house. Even from a distance Bolin could see her eyes were huge with alarm. Garek's whistle stopped mid tune. Ciara said something to Berk and sprinted after the girl. Berk spun, and when his eyes landed on Garek he started toward him at a run.

"Kort's gone," he said, as he neared.

"What do you mean, gone?"

Berk stopped in front of them, breathing hard. He waved back the way he had come. "That girl said his body's gone. Said she was charged with tending it, and when she got there this morning, the trestle was overthrown
, and he was gone."

"Bloody hells."

"Go find Danya Nialyne," Bolin said to Berk, then took off after Ciara, Garek hard on his heels.

The ripple of dark magic that washed over Bolin less than five strides from the grieving house took his breath away. Garek grabbed his arm as he stumbled or he would have gone down.

"Bolin?"

He sucked in a sharp breath. Ciara stood frozen in the arched entryway, her back to them, arms stiff at her sides, fingers jutting downwards. Her earth magic swarmed around her, and Bolin felt Andrakaos stir under
Nialyne's wards. He quieted the ancient power without thinking.

Ciara looked over her shoulder at him. "It's here."

"What?"

"The creature I saw at the healing hut. It's here."

Bolin stepped up beside her and drew her out of the doorway, handing her off to Garek. "Take her out of here."

"No, Bolin, let me help."

"Go, Ciara."

Bolin peered into the building, blinking his eyes
to adjust them to the gloom. The stench that assaulted his nostrils had nothing to do with the dead. It reeked of dark arts, and Bolin found it strange the wards weren't screaming in outrage. He borrowed a bit of the magic of the Greensward to illuminate the room, but it barely penetrated the unnatural darkness. Furniture had been strewn about, along with flowers and candles, everything shattered as though flung with great force.

Someone moved behind him
, and Bolin put an arm out to forestall them. A figure formed in the center of the wreckage, taller and wider than Garek, made of shadow and darkness, a being pulled from the pit of the veil.

"You look for the man," it said, its voice deep and hissing. "He is mine now."

A burning sensation crawled up Bolin's left arm. "Where is your mistress?"

"You will find out soon enough. She bade me give you something."

The figure's hand jerked outward and Bolin skipped back. He deflected the surge of magic, and sent back one of his own. But the specter had vanished, and with it the gloom that had taken over the grieving house.

Nialyne stepped up beside him. "The soldier?"

"Gone."

She wrinkled her nose as she walked past
Bolin, into the ruined room, and he saw her tremble. She turned to face him. Her eyes were dark. "Dominion magic."

"How is that possible?"

Her gaze drifted down to his arm, then back to his face, and Bolin felt a tremor start in his muscles.

***

"Bolin, stop."

He kept walking, striding toward the manor with Nialyne
running to catch up to him, and Garek and Ciara trailing behind. The Dominion magic hadn't set off the wards because it already existed within the borders of the Greensward. Bolin had brought it in. Damn it to a thousand bloody hells, he could blame nothing but his carelessness for whatever had befallen the guard.

Bolin made it to Nialyne's study before she caught up to him. He stopped an arm's length from the table. The crystal still sat where it had been left, the Dominion magic rolling like black ooze in its center. The tremor that had started in the grieving house got worse. Bolin gripped the edge of the table and b
owed his head, eyes closed, jaw clenched.

"It's not the crystal," Nialyne said.

"I know." He sucked in a deep breath, and forced himself to relax. "But I need to get it out of the Greensward just the same."

"You intend to leave now?"

He lifted his head to look at her. "Whatever's befallen that guard is my doing. As long as I'm within the Greensward that witch apparently has free access."

"Not that I'll claim to understand," Garek said from behind him, "but would anyone care to explain what on the Goddess's bloody green earth is going on?"

"In the simplest terms," Nialyne said, "Bolin was injured by a Dominion priestess. Threads of her magic have remained inside the wound and are acting as a poison of sorts."