Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (61 page)

And why hadn’t he told Finnlay that he had it?

On the other side of the camp Finnlay lay wrapped up in his old travel blanket, the edges a little frayed with use now. His face was peaceful in sleep; Robert could make out fine lines around his eyes, some threads of silver through his hair and beard. They already looked the same age – soon, Finnlay would begin to look older than him.

Finn had been passionate about finding the Calyx all his life. Hadn’t he been the one to push Robert into finding it? It had been his ideas that had led to their trip to the caves where Robert now hid his home, that had brought him to discovering the silver rod.

But the rod had been easy to uncover; the Calyx had given him one glimpse of promise, and then hidden from him.

Would it read that
he
was one who would abuse it? Was that why he couldn’t tell Finn – because he would then have to admit he was afraid to change it permanently?

With a sigh, he slipped it back inside his jacket, doing up the buttons to keep it safe. As he rested his head back, he idly sent his Senses out once more, roaming the area, checking for pursuit or discovery.

He did this without thinking now. He didn’t sleep, hadn’t since the fight with the Malachi. He couldn’t. Each time he tried, each time he closed his eyes, was worse than any nightmare. It was getting harder and harder to escape that cold, black, empty feeling inside where the demon thrived. The terror stole his breath away, made him struggle back to waking just so he could fill his lungs again, but the fight was so hard, taking forever and when he awoke, shaking, the thought of more sleep made him physically ill.

So he didn’t sleep.

Unbidden, his gaze shifted down to where she lay beside him. She was curled up on her side, but as he watched, she turned, pushing the blankets back from her face, settling on her back. Robert waited a moment, then leaned down and
pulled the blanket back up around her neck, his hand brushing against her chin as he withdrew.

She startled awake, her eyes wild, looking for safety in the unfamiliar night. Instantly Robert scrambled to kneel by her side, his hand out on hers, the other reaching for the bottle of water.

‘It’s all right,’ he whispered, not wanting to wake the others. ‘You’re safe. Andrew’s safe.’

Jenn blinked hard, frowning a little, before turning to look at him. ‘Where are we?’

‘Two days short of the Enclave. Can you sit up a little, try to drink something?’

She nodded and he put a hand behind her shoulders, easing her up to sit with her back against his tree trunk. Then he held the bottle for her to drink, letting her take small sips. When she’d had enough, she put her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, in the silence, she said, ‘What happened?’

‘How much do you remember?’

‘Of the attack? All of it. I was … protecting Andrew and …’

Quietly, Robert filled in the details, leaving his visit to Maitland until last, hoping to soften the blow. ‘I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do. Nothing to be done. There were enough survivors to give them a proper burial, to take care of the injured and get them to safety. We couldn’t stay longer, not with Malachi still in the area and with vengeance in their hearts.’

‘Is that what it was?’ Jenn whispered, turning her head to look at him. ‘Simple vengeance?’

‘They wanted Andrew.’

‘Doesn’t everybody?’

He’d hoped they could have this conversation some other time, when she was better. ‘DeMassey and his Malachi didn’t act on their own.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘What possible interest could they have in Andrew?’

‘But why would Nash try to take him knowing that I’d come after him?’

Robert grunted laughter at that. The answer was so obvious. ‘Because he wants you?’

‘So Andrew was just a decoy? If so, then why has Nash waited until now? Why bother doing it on the road to Maitland? Why not just have him snatched at court, where nobody would notice? If he’d done it years ago, Andrew would have been a child, unable to defend himself.’ Jenn paused in her attack and shifted slightly. ‘Tell me, did the Malachi see you?’

‘Yes, but they all fled soon after.’

‘Then Nash will know you have come back.’

‘Assuming he’d ever believed I’d gone in the first place.’ Robert frowned. ‘There was no way Nash would have ordered an ambush knowing either you or I were involved. The question is, why would Nash try to take Andrew without you knowing?’

Jenn said nothing then. She closed her eyes again, a deep frown on her forehead. After a moment, he asked, ‘Are you in pain?’

‘Yes. But nothing your powers can help with.’

He could see moisture glisten around her eyes, hear the sorrow in her voice. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said into the silence.

‘Don’t you dare blame yourself for this one,’ she hissed, but without much venom.

Robert ducked his head, feeling the rebuke in places he’d thought had long since died. She’d always had an odd but incredible power over him. If it hadn’t been for the vagaries of the Prophecy, and the involvement of Nash, Robert would have been just as happy to admit to it and never think of it again. But such luxuries were dangerous in these times, and to accept that power would be tantamount to surrender.

And to love her was to seal her destruction.

He looked up to find her staring out at the view, much as he had done, but there were tears falling down her pale cheeks. Robert said nothing then, leaving her to her thoughts, allowing her the moment he had encouraged in her son.

That boy had as much as lost his parents twice now – and yet, still not a tear from him.

And not a single glimpse of powers, despite the ambush.

‘Where is Micah?’ Jenn asked softly.

‘I believe he told Finnlay he would follow a few days behind.’

‘Because of you?’

Robert let his own gaze absorb the blue-black view, fading in and out as one set of clouds after another swept over the shifting moon.

‘You need to talk to him, Robert.’

‘I cannot if he is not here.’

‘Don’t be obtuse.’

‘Don’t be unrealistic.’

‘Are you saying you will speak with him when you next see him?’

‘You’re assuming he wants to speak to me. He’s known for the last eight years where to find me. If he’d wanted to talk, he would have before now.’

He looked at her to find her eyes more blue than he’d ever seen before, fixed on him: a midnight gaze, full of night and darkness, with no promise of the morning. She could, if she’d wanted to, bridge the gap between them – and that realisation brought Robert up cold.

For a moment he busied himself pulling the last of the bread from a saddlebag, carefully dipping it in a jar of honey. He handed it to her without meeting her eyes.

It was fortunate that he’d never married her, that he’d never had the opportunity to act on his instincts. As his wife, she would have torn him to shreds. As it was, as an ally, she made a formidable enemy.

‘You have a fine son. You have every reason to be proud of him,’ he murmured under his breath, listening for, and hearing her small gasp of surprise. Then, and only then, did he turn and face her again.

She was smiling at him. He couldn’t help but smile back.

A formidable enemy indeed – but every enemy had a weakness. And Robert was learning to be ruthless.

He could feel it, sitting beneath his skin, worming its way into muscle and bone. A presence growing closer, lurking on the line where his awareness dwelt, neither in this world, nor the next.

He
was that place where the two conjoined. The figure that walked between shadow and light, visible to neither. He was ready.

Of course he’d known, deep down, the choice would not be his to make. Nash was far too clever for that, would have been looking out for his return, Seeking him to see how close to Marsay he was, perhaps even thinking he might waylay the boy before he entered the city and thus avoid possible questions.

And there was no chance that his men, returning from their day in the city, would be sufficient to put up any real defence against Nash. Besides, Nash would insist he came only to find out how DeMassey was.

He could feel Nash getting closer, without benefit of Seeking. It was almost dark now. DeMassey could see the last of the light fade from the window he’d had open all day.

He could hardly move. The potions and dressings, salves and bandages had all failed without the aid of a qualified Healer – and it would take far too long to find one. Much longer than the few precious minutes he had left.

He wished for more time. For better time. That he’d never offered to help Nash. That he’d never let Valena leave Karakham and follow after Nash, that he’d had the strength back then to open her eyes. He wished his own had been open, as they were now.

The door opened. He did not turn his head. The black mess in his room was not of his making. The door closed again.

‘Your men are wary, DeMassey. What have you been telling them?’

‘Nothing but the truth.’

‘About me?’

‘Are you afraid of the truth?’

‘Aren’t we all?’

This made DeMassey laugh and he began to cough. He struggled to sit up in bed a little, finally getting the hacking under control. Then he pointed to a cup sitting on a table by the wall. ‘Would you?’

Nash glanced once at the cup, then at DeMassey. With obvious disdain, he passed it across. ‘You failed. What happened?’

Settling back, he took in a long, steady breath to avoid another coughing fit. He closed his eyes, no longer willing to look. ‘His mother.’

‘She was there?’ Surprised, he was now. As he would have been then – as he shouldn’t have been.

‘Yes. We didn’t discover that until she tried to stop us taking Andrew. By then it was too late to withdraw.’

‘But she saw you?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Doesn’t matter?’ DeMassey could almost hear the frown in his voice. ‘Why not? What have you done?’

‘I did exactly what you told me to do,’ DeMassey replied, knowing he was smiling, but unable to help it. He could almost see the fear fading before his eyes. ‘Just like always. But your plan was flawed, just like always. You don’t look before you push, do you? You think everything is just sitting there, waiting for you to pluck it out whenever you need it. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to take him. You’re a fool, Nash.’

Nash moved closer, his presence almost searing DeMassey’s skin, burning him. ‘What have you done!’

‘What have
I
done?’ DeMassey began to laugh. It was just so simple, so perfect, it was almost a farce. ‘I think she died protecting her boy, and he with her. There was another Salti with her. Might have been the Douglas, or his brother. I didn’t get a chance to look. But still, you know she died once before. Don’t take my word for it this time. Go down there yourself and see.’

He was suddenly crushed by an enormous weight on his chest, forcing the air from him, killing his laughter, making his wound bleed profusely. He opened his eyes, fearless, and looked up to find Nash towering over him.

‘You want me to kill you, don’t you?’ Nash roared and DeMassey knew there would be no help from his men. They would suddenly find it impossible to climb the stairs – and Nash would kill anyone who tried.

Nash clenched his fist in the air and a bolt of white-hot agony split DeMassey from head to toe. His body convulsed on the bed, then fell to twitching, spasms rattling through his muscles for long seconds after.

Nash came close again, his breath harsh-felt along DeMassey’s aching flesh. ‘You will not die until you give up your secrets. I know you have them. I’ve had you watched and followed. I’ve known you too long, Luc, since you were a boy. Known you’d never forgive me for taking Valena from you, for making her my own. Well, I let you have her, to keep you happy – and my reward is your secrets.’

‘I have … no … secrets,’ DeMassey managed, each word a trial in itself.

‘Every man has his secrets, Luc. And I want to know yours. When you tell me, I will let you die peacefully. You know me to be merciful when it suits me.’

‘I know … nothing of the kind.’

‘Have you been spying on me? Passing word on to the Enemy? Is that what you’ve done? Betrayed me, betrayed your own people and crossed over?’ When DeMassey didn’t reply, Nash clenched his fist again.

The pain ripped through him like lightning, blinding him, forcing all the air out of his body, all the blood, all the will to live.

But he wasn’t dead. And he wouldn’t be. Nash could keep up this level of torture indefinitely. He did no damage to the body, but explored the depths of pain. DeMassey had seen him torture a dozen and more men in just this fashion over the years. He had always suspected that one day he himself would be subject to the same treatment.

‘What have you done?’ Nash hissed again, his anger making his voice ragged. ‘Tell me!’

‘Tell you … nothing … monster.’ His vision was gone completely now and he could feel nothing in his hands and feet. ‘Too late. My secrets … safe from you. Promised you … would never know …’

He did feel hands on his shoulders then, shaking him, questions spat in his face. Then something was picked up, sniffed, then thrown across the room and he knew this last secret, at least, had been discovered.

The blow to his face felt like a caress compared to the agony in the rest of his body. But he was detached from it now, floating an inch above it, still able to feel it, but not experience it.

‘You will not die until I say so!’ Nash grabbed him again, lifting him from the bed, shaking him. ‘You will tell me! What are you hiding? What are you protecting? Is it Douglas? Jenn? Andrew? Kenrick? It’s Kenrick, isn’t it? You’ve made an alliance with him … no … Malachi? Is that it? Damn it DeMassey! You
will
talk!’

And he felt it again, a pushing deep within his gut, an overwhelming urge to speak, to let the truth fly into the evening air, where he could rejoice in it once more before he died.

‘Not … my secret …’ he managed. And the breath left him then, wheezing out of his body with no force at all until he was left empty. He felt Nash drop him back to the bed, felt him step back, heard another whispered curse. He could feel the venom tingling in the air that brushed over his skin, feel the evil that had been born with this man soaking into the floorboards at his feet, into the plaster walls and timber furniture. Felt it float on the breeze, and out through the window, venturing into the cold spring night.