Journey Of Thieves (Book 5) (6 page)

With Myria’s help, I made several attempts and finally succeeded at summoning a tiny ball of light. It was fainter than hers and disappeared the instant I lost my concentration, but I took it as a victory. Next my grandmother tried to instruct me in summoning lightning, but the best I could manage was a small spark.

Realizing the other harvesters were watching us, the children giggling at my clumsy failures, I gave up and turned my attention to the simpler work of collecting the hucklefruit. It was good to lose myself in such a simple activity. But I could not stop my mind wandering as I worked. I thought of the mysterious enemy I had spotted watching me last night and felt suddenly exposed on the cliff top.

Then my mind moved in a still more troubling direction. What was I going to do about Terrac and my discovery of his secret?

“You should speak to him,” said Myria, as she worked at my side.

“What? Speak to who?”

“I may be aging, but I am not blind, granddaughter. Yesterday all was well between you and your young man. But today your thoughts are troubled. I imagine you only came to the field with me in order to avoid him in case he were to come looking for you.”

I smothered a flash of irritation, not at her but at myself. “Am I so readable?”

“Only to someone who cares enough to look. Anyway, I think you are done running away from your problem.”

“Why is that?”

She smiled. “Because the problem has come to you.”

She nodded to where the wall of green stalks ended, and sure enough, Terrac was there.

How had he known where to find me?

He looked so casual as he approached that my anger flared at the sight of him. How could he smile like that when he was lying to me? I made up my mind in a split second and stalked down the row to meet him. Ignoring his greeting, I produced the report I had been carrying with me for just such an occasion and waved it beneath his nose.

“Tell me the meaning of this,” I demanded. “I found it in your coat last night.”

Recognition flickered in his eyes, and something else. Irritation. “What did you do? Search my pockets?” His tone was cool.

Mine wasn’t. “You left it where I could easily find it. It didn’t take much looking. Anyway, I’m not the one whose actions need defending. At first I could not believe what I was seeing. I wanted to think there was some better explanation than the obvious.”

His jaw set in a stubborn expression I knew all too well. “A better explanation than what? If you have some accusation to make, I deserve to hear what it is.”

“Do not insult me by pretending ignorance. You knew what you were doing was wrong, or you would not have attempted to keep it secret. You’re spying for the Praetor.”

Conscious of the curious attention we were drawing from Myria and the other onlookers, I lowered my voice. “When we get back home, you plan to report the location of this magicker village, even though you know it could endanger Swiftsfell.”

His expression became unreadable. “There is nothing secret about this place or the people in it. If the Praetor wanted to learn about them, he could get his information anywhere. And nothing in my report will hurt your grandmother or the other people here. This province is not even under our Praetor’s authority.”

I shook my head. “Then why lie to me?”

“There was never any lie. You’ve always known I was sent on this journey to keep an eye on you. To ensure your return and report your activities.”

It was true, but my anger was in no way abated. “I didn’t realize you would be taking your duties quite so seriously. You have noted our every stop, our every interaction with the locals. You have been using me and Hadrian like a pair of bloodhounds to hunt down magickers.”

He winced. “That’s an exaggeration. I came on this journey to be with you. But at the end of this year of freedom, you and I both have to return to the province and the Praetor’s service. It’s only wise to curry favor with him while we have the opportunity. I know you hate that sort of thing, and that is why I plan on handling it for the both of us. You must realize this is only good sense.”

“What I realize is that you are as ambitious as you ever were and that you do not hesitate to betray your friends.”

“Don’t say that. I am acting for the both of us.”

“And yet you didn’t consult me.”

“You mean the way you always consult me?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “When was the last time you did that, Ilan? When have you asked my opinion on anything? Ever?”

I hesitated, because he was right.

“It is true,” I said. “You and I have very different priorities, and we are both too independent to rely on another’s instincts. That is why this was all one big mistake.
We
are a mistake.”

He looked bewildered. “What are you saying?”

“That you and I don’t have a lot of trust in our history. I was used to the backstabbing old Terrac who was sometimes my friend and sometimes my enemy. I knew how to deal with him. But whatever we are to each other now requires a whole new level of faith, and it is clear we don’t have that. We never will.”

Surprise and confusion mingled in his expression. “Do not say things like that, Ilan. You are angry now, but tomorrow you will feel differently.”

“No, I will not,” I said sadly. “Because you and I are done.”

They were the hardest words I ever spoke, and I could not look at him while I said them. So I turned fast to walk away.

“Ilan, wait.”

I had only gone two steps when he caught my arm, jerking me to a halt, and spun me around.

But whatever he was about to say or do was cut off when sudden screams erupted all around.

A dark shadow fell over us, blotting out the sunshine, and there was a rushing, whooshing sound. I looked up to see a giant dark blur of glittering scales and gaping jaws descending over the field.

I had never seen anything like this and did not know what I was looking at until one of the pickers nearby screamed, “Dragon!”

There was no time to think. The beast swooped low, the wind from its massive, flapping wings stirring a mini hurricane of dust and leaves.

Instinctively, I threw myself to the ground, and Terrac dropped beside me as the monster passed so close over our heads we could almost have touched her. I had a brief impression of burning eyes and flashing white claws, and then Terrac blocked my view, shielding me with his body.

There was a roaring sound and a swift wave of heat, as if we were suddenly engulfed in an oven. Hearing screams and glimpsing the flicker of flames, I slithered out from under Terrac and scrambled to my feet.

The crops were ablaze, forming a wall of fire on either side. Through the dancing flames stretching toward the sky, I saw people dashing for cover. Terrac and I were separated from them by the flames.

I looked up to see the dragon turning in the air to make another pass, fire glowing in her throat as she opened her jaws in a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet.

My heart froze in my chest. Neither Terrac nor I were armed. I had not anticipated danger when I left Myria’s cottage. So we were helpless to do anything but stand rooted to the spot, watching as the dragon spewed out another blast of flames that consumed the remaining crops.

All was chaos. Women and children ran, screaming, to the cliff’s edge and clambered down the ropes toward the comparative safety of the village. My confused mind told me I should do something to help them, but I didn’t know what. Everything was happening too quickly.

The dragon beat her broad wings, lifting higher into the sky. It looked as if she was retreating. But then she tucked her wings into her body and dove sharply down past the burning fields toward Swiftsfell.

“We need to get out of here!” Terrac shouted in my ear, his voice rising above the roar and crackle of the inferno. His sweat-streaked face was blurry before me as thick smoke clouded my vision and made my throat burn.

He took my arm and tried to push me toward the end of the row of burning stalks. But I came to a sudden halt, remembering.

Myria!

I whirled, looking for my grandmother. She had been only a short distance behind me mere moments ago. But now she was gone.

I shouted her name and pulled loose from Terrac’s grip, rushing back to where I had last seen her. Acrid smoke filled my eyes, disorienting me. My skin was dry with the heat of the blaze. Burning stalks fell into my path, blocking my way.

Coughing, tears streaming from my eyes, I nearly stumbled over a charred corpse on the ground. The body, huddled face-down, was burnt almost beyond recognition. But I knew the yellow silk scarf in her hair, recognized the beaded belt around her waist.

The world seemed to stand still as, with a howl of pain, I dropped to her side. I was vaguely aware of the flames licking closer, of Terrac trying to drag me to my feet. But I could not take my eyes away from the charred body, could not reconcile what was before me with the living, breathing woman I had been talking with only minutes ago.

A rushing sound in my ears, I gasped for breath as the world around me erupted into showers of sparks and tongues of flame.

Terrac’s strong arms were around me, lifting me away from the heat and the smoke. I closed my streaming eyes and gave in to the oblivion pulling me into shadow.

When I woke a few hours later, I was lying on a pile of blankets on the hard floor of Calder’s study. There was no sign of Terrac, but Hadrian was at my side.

Other bodies filled every available floor space, and through the open door I could see more of them in the next room, weary, soot-stained people sleeping or holding their loved ones close.

Hadrian told me that after the dragon had burned the high field it had attacked the village. Many had lost their homes today and were crowded into Calder’s undamaged house for shelter.

“Where’s Terrac? Is he safe?” I asked quickly, my voice raspy from smoke exposure.

“He managed to get you both to safety,” Hadrian reassured me. “He’s out there now, helping to put out the fires. Everyone escaped from the high field, although many found no homes to return to.”

“Not everyone escaped,” I said dully, fighting an ache in my chest. “Myria is dead. I saw her.”

Hadrian rested a hand on my shoulder. “Terrac told me. I’m sorry. I know you were only just getting to know her. Is there anything I can do?”

I swallowed. There was nothing anybody could do.

“Why did it happen?” I wondered aloud. “It was a peaceful day until the dragon came out of nowhere.”

“The dragon, Micanthria, is an ally of the Drejian people in the mountains. It seems they wearied of waiting for Swiftsfell’s late tribute and decided to send a message by destroying the village’s crops and homes.”

Throat tightening, hands trembling, I stopped hearing Hadrian’s words. I kept seeing Myria’s face as it had been in life. And then her blackened corpse. I had only just found my grandmother, and we’d had so much left to learn about each other. But now we never would.

Rage rushed through my veins and, with it, determination.

The cliff path was treacherous by moonlight. In most places it was no more than a rough, downward sloping shelf etched into the rock face, scarcely wide enough for putting one foot in front of the other.

At a particularly steep point, I slipped, loose pebbles skittering from beneath my feet and tumbling over the edge into the nothingness. I would have followed them if my desperately searching hands hadn’t found a tree root to catch hold of and steady myself. There were many of these scrubby little trees sprouting, seemingly impossibly, from crevices in the rock. Their presence was lucky because the original creators of this path had not considered it necessary to provide any manmade handholds to give travelers convenient purchase on the way down.

Continuing with renewed caution, I questioned my sanity for attempting this reckless descent. But it was too late to turn back now. Even if I could battle my way back up the steep incline, my absence from the village may already have been noticed, and my friends might well be turning every house upside down, searching for me. I could only hope they didn’t guess my intent until it was too late.

I smothered a creeping sense of guilt, thinking of the stolen supplies I carried. While retrieving my weapons and original clothing from Myria’s cottage, I had taken food from her cupboard. I knew she would not begrudge me that, but I couldn’t say the same for the map I had taken from Calder’s study. I wouldn’t usually question such actions, but maybe I owed better to people who had befriended me. Maybe it was wrong to sneak away like a thief in the night.

But this was the only way. I could not share my plans, even with Terrac and Hadrian. If they knew where I went and why, they would try to stop me—or worse, join me. And it would be selfish to allow that. There was every chance I was headed to my death, and if that was the case, I couldn’t drag the people I cared about down with me. This quest must be mine alone.

So as rapidly as I dared, I made my way down, straining to see into the shadows each time the moon dipped behind the clouds. I tried to visualize the way as it had appeared in daylight, but it had looked much different from the heights above with the rope railings on the Swiftsfell walkways safely between me and it.

As the sound of the rushing river below grew louder in my ears, I knew I was getting closer, even if it was too dark to make out the bottom of the gorge. I tried to remember where the boats were. I had noticed them this afternoon, a line of small green dots bobbing on the water where they were drawn up to the rocks.

I hadn’t far to search. My feet had no sooner reached the end of the path where the ground leveled than I saw the shadowy shapes among the boulders.

I slung my traveler’s pack into the nearest boat and, fumbling in the darkness, untied the vessel from its mooring. I was unprepared for the way the swift current instantly took hold of the craft and wrenched it away from shore. Quickly I splashed in after it, heedless of the swirling water rising to my waist. With one hand I caught the bobbing craft just before the water stole it away, and with an effort, I dragged myself aboard.