Snakeroot (28 page)

Ren laughed. “That’s going to help you. Humor. As annoying as it is, it will help.”

“We all have our gifts.” Connor frowned at Ren. “Is that all?”

“She needs a champion,” Ren said, all mirth gone from his face. “And it has to be you.”

“What are you talking about?” Connor asked. “A champion? Are you going to tell me to go find the One Ring now?”

“I’ve already told you,” Ren answered. “I’ve seen the shape of things to come. This is how it’s going down. I’m just giving you some advance notice.”

Connor grunted to hide his confusion. “Don’t you want to be champion?”

“It’s hard to be champion when you can’t pick up a sword.”

“Right.” Connor looked at Ren. Tall, strong, ready to fight. It had to suck. “You know, kid, I’m sorry about how things ended for you. You deserved better.”

Ren shrugged. “How often do people get what they deserve? Good or bad.”

“Very Zen.” Connor took another swig of water.

“I suppose,” Ren said with a slight smile. “I may be dead, but apparently I still have choices. So I could brood and mope and try my best to learn how to rattle chains. Or I can try to save my sister.”

A shiver traveled through Connor’s limbs. “Point taken.”

Connor regarded Ren for a minute, then said, “I can’t believe Logan would put his stamp of approval on this conversation. So forgive the turn of phrase, but how did you get off your leash?”

“I’m getting the hang of this ghost thing,” Ren told him. “Learning via trial and error. At first I could only go where Logan sent me, but sometimes where he sends me lets me cross paths with people other than those he intended me to see. I figured out that, once someone has seen me, I can go back to visit them at will. You saw me earlier. So now you’re on the list.”

“Lucky me.” Connor went to the wall and took down a long sword. Brandishing the weapon, he asked, “So you want me to save your sister. Can you tell me where she is?”

“No.” Ren watched Connor cut the air with sweeping strokes of his blade. “But she already has.”

Connor stopped swinging the sword. “You’ve got some misinformation there. Adne didn’t leave a note. She just left.” He could hear the resentment in his voice.

Ren managed to give Connor a sympathetic look. “We’re dealing in subtleties, man. I’m talking about clues, not a sign in neon lights. Think about what Adne’s been going through. What she’s done recently. The choices she’s made. Follow Adne’s lead and you’ll find her.”

“Do all ghosts talk in riddles?” Connor asked. “Or do you just like pissing me off?”

“I like pissing you off,” Ren answered. “But the riddles aren’t my choice. I’m toeing the line here, but I can’t cross it. If I could tell you everything I know, I would. But I’m not free.”

“Sorry,” Connor muttered, passing the sword hilt from hand to hand.

“Don’t be,” Ren said. “You should get angry. It will help you find Adne.”

“Has Logan hurt her?” Connor asked. He didn’t want to voice the question, but suddenly it was there and he couldn’t hold it back.

“Logan isn’t the real threat to Adne,” Ren replied. “She’s a danger to herself in ways she doesn’t realize. We’re losing her.”

Connor wheeled around and ran the punching bag through with the long sword.

“Oh, good,” Ren said as Connor jerked the blade free. “I was worried that bag was going to take you.”

“I am not losing Ariadne,” Connor said in a voice sharper than the sword edge.

Ren nodded, then flinched as if something had hurt him. “I have to go.”

“Go where?” Connor looked at the space around Ren, hoping that he might see or sense whatever force was affecting the spirit. But Connor found nothing.

With a brief nod of understanding, Ren said, “See you around.” And he was gone.

THOUGH GENERALLY
disheartened by all that had transpired in the past hours, days, even months, Sarah tried to focus on the small and very recent improvements in her circumstance. She had graduated from bed rest to a rocking chair and she’d been moved from Adne’s room to her own. Taking the stone off too soon, it turned out, had been a bad idea. Disrupting the draw of the curse from her body had allowed it to take hold again. Now Sarah’s blood felt like sludge and the Elixirs had her drinking a tea that tasted like dirt. Sarah half suspected that they could have just used a stone again but that the dirt-tea was retribution for failing to follow their original instructions.

When the door to her room opened, Sarah expected it to be Tristan returning. Instead, a group of heavily armed men stomped into the room and took up sentinel-like stances on either side of Sarah’s rocking chair. Another man entered a moment later, and while he wasn’t boasting the same amount of steel as the others, this last man had a more imperious bearing.

“Sarah Doran?” the man asked Sarah.

Sarah set down her cup of tea. She didn’t like the way her hand had begun to shake. “Do I know you?”

“My name is Holt,” he said. “The Pyralis Guide.”

“It’s an honor to meet a Guide,” Sarah said, out of sheer politeness. “And yes, I’m Sarah Doran.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us,” Holt told Sarah. “You need to answer the charge that has been brought against you.”

“The charge?” Sarah couldn’t believe that she’d heard him right.

“Treason.”

Sarah didn’t know what was worse, the word itself or the way that saying it had made Holt smile.

ETHAN WAS EYEING
Connor with suspicion. “Something’s different about you. You seem . . . like you.”

Connor barked a laugh. He hadn’t realized how far from himself he’d been until Ren forced him to face it head-on.

“I had a close encounter,” Connor told Ethan.

They were taking inventory of armor and weapons while they waited in Haldis Tactical for Anika to arrive.

“You had what?” Ethan asked.

“A close encounter,” Connor said. “With a ghost.”

“Close enounters are with aliens,” Shiloh interjected as he stowed a pair of short-handled sickles boasting wickedly curved blades in his pack. “Not ghosts. You’re mixing up your paranormal beings. That’s sloppy.”

Ethan grinned at Connor. “I like this one.”

“Just don’t forget that he’s taller and better-looking than you,” Connor reminded him.

“Excuse me?” Shiloh said.

“And he’s really cute when he blushes,” Connor added. “Just look at that. Can you blush like that?”

“Leave him alone,” Sabine chided Connor. “Or you’ll be one Striker short on this mission.”

“He can take it,” Connor told her. “Can’t you, Shiloh?”

“I couldn’t say,” Shiloh said. “I’m too busy being cute while blushing.”

“Yeah.” Connor looked at Ethan and nodded. “I like him too.”

“Shut the door!”

Connor looked up and saw that Anika, Tristan, Tess, and Mikaela had run into the room. Tess slammed Tactical’s door and brought down its heavy wooden bolt, sealing them in.

Tristan glared at Anika, spewing curses. “I have to go back!”

“And do what?” Anika shouted at him. “Tell me how you can help your wife by storming the stockade alone.”

Tristan seethed but held his tongue.

“Huh,” Connor said to Ethan. “That can’t be good. I didn’t even know the door had a bolt.”

“Neither did I,” Ethan said.

“We don’t have much time.” Anika waved the Strikers and Sabine over.

“What’s wrong?” Sabine asked.

“Holt’s making his move,” Anika told them. “And it’s much worse than I expected. He didn’t wait for the next meeting of the Council. He and his lackeys are making arrests. It’s only a matter of time before they come here looking for us.”

“Arrests?” Ethan’s brow knit together. “For what?”

“For nothing,” Tristan snarled. “He’s taking down potential threats to his political ascendancy. That’s all.”

“He’s bringing charges of conspiracy, insurrection,” Anika replied. “And treason. They took Sarah Doran first and they were trying to arrest Tristan when we intervened. I don’t know how many of you he’ll come after, but there’s no doubt that I’m one of his targets.”

“We’re just going to let him do this? Stand by while he tries to usurp you? While he throws people in prison?” Connor demanded of Anika.

“Thank you. That’s what I’ve been saying since Holt made his move,” Tristan said to Connor, but Tess shook her head at them.

“It’s already done,” Tess said. “Holt’s calling the shots and there’s nothing we can do about it for the time being. As far as the Academy is concerned, we’re at damage control. Let us handle it. You need to focus on the mission.”

“I don’t understand why anyone would follow that blowhard.” Connor slammed his fist into the wall and winced. The punching bag had a lot more give.

“Because blood wants blood,” Sabine replied. “Holt’s shown us that he can turn the Searchers into a mob. They got a taste of destruction and they want more. Mindless but purposeful violence is the easiest to promote.”

“So we’re just going to fall in line?” Ethan frowned. “We’re not going to fight back?”

“This fight isn’t yours, not right now,” Anika said. “I truly believe that the elder Searchers will prevail in this matter and that reason will trump Holt’s power grab. But you can’t afford to waste time on Holt. Your battle is elsewhere.”

“Really, Anika?” Tristan asked. “Don’t you think getting your house in order takes precedent over what’s happening with Logan?”

“You’re not seeing past Sarah’s involvement,” Anika chided gently. “And that’s understandable, but you know better than anyone, Tristan, what Bosque is capable of.”

Tristan started to object, but then his shoulders slumped. “Yes. I do know.”

“Speaking of Bosque and Logan,” Ethan said, “any progress on where this battle of ours will be happening?”

“Connor.” Anika turned to the Striker.

“What?” Connor said, surprised that the Arrow was looking to him for an answer.

“You’re the closest to Adne,” Anika continued. “Do you have any idea of where she might be going? Where Logan would be taking her?”

Connor ruffled his hair, nervous but resolved. “I’m not sure. Hang on. There might be one thing . . .”

“I’ll take anything,” Anika said.

The sound of voices came through the door, followed by a commotion as whoever was outside discovered that the way in had been blocked.

“I think we’re out of time,” Tess said. “Connor?”

“The necklace,” Connor told them. “Eira’s necklace. Sarah said that it meant Adne must have some sort of connection to Eira.”

Sabine began to nod. “What did Adne say when we first found the box? Something about Logan going back.”

“Back to the beginning,” Ethan said.

“The beginning,” Sabine repeated. “Back to Eira, the first Keeper.”

“Okay, that’s a who.” Tess glanced nervously at the door, from which shouts and pounding fists emanated. “Do we have a where to go with it? Because I don’t think the pitchforks and torches outside are going to wait much longer.”

“Tearmunn,” Anika said.

“What’s Tearmunn?” Sabine asked with a frown.

“It was a Conatus fortress in the Middle Ages,” Anika said.

“A fortress?” Shiloh piped up. When they all looked at him, he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. It just sounds cool.”

“It’s a ruin now. I can’t say for sure what you’ll find there,” Anika told them, and Shiloh managed to look sincerely disappointed. “Most of the structure was destroyed in the early years of the war. But Tearmunn is the site where the first Rift was opened.”

“Okay, I’m in,” Connor said. “That’s as good a guess as any.”

“Sure.” Ethan was nodding. “So this ruin. Where is it?”

“Scotland,” Anika said. “In the Highlands.”

The pounding at the door had transformed into a ramming sound, shoulders being thrown heavily against the wood.

“Do they not realize that they could just get a Weaver to open a door and come in that way?” Sabine asked.

“The Weavers don’t like Holt,” Mikaela said in a tiny voice.

“What?” Anika asked the girl.

Ducking her head at the sudden attention, Mikaela said, “We don’t like Holt. He’s a bully and he only cares about fighting. Weaving is an art. It requires thoughtfulness and grace. Holt doesn’t understand that.”

Tess and Anika exchanged a look. “Well, that’s something.”