The Pearls (29 page)

Had Hervan thought she would love him in gratitude for his bravery? That she would appreciate or even approve of his throwing away honor and damning himself for eternity, for her?

“The rest of the Crimsons should be slain by now,” Shadrael said into the silence. “My men will catch up with us soon, once they've looted the bodies and caught the horses.”

Lea did not bother to reply. She felt numb and battered. What chance had she now of rescue? She did not believe her message had reached Caelan. She'd glimpsed a dim image of him, but that was all. Without her necklace of
gli
-emeralds, so weak had been her powers that he could not possibly have seen her in return, much less heard her plea. If he'd spoken to her, she hadn't heard him.
No,
she thought dully,
it was hopeless.

“How did you get out of
kwaibe
?” Shadrael asked now, finally gaining her attention. “I put you there. I contained you. How did you escape?”

She did not care. She did not want to talk about such trivial things. Angrily she turned her face away.

“Answer me! How did you escape?”

“What does it matter now?”

“Did you break the spell? Are you that strong? It's bad enough that you've misaligned the Hidden Ways when I try to take you through, and now this. Can I do nothing with you?”

She almost let him believe the lie, but her honesty compelled her to face him. “The spell faded away, and I came out. I could not break it without my—” She broke off, annoyed with herself.

He seemed not to notice what she left unsaid. “Faded,” he said bleakly, staring into the distance. Then, in fresh suspicion, he turned on her. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't lie to me.” He gave her a shake. “I can tell you've used magic. What have you been doing? What have you done?”

The anger in him buzzed around her, far more dangerous than hornets. She knew his temper, knew how brutal and unpredictable he could become, especially if he'd been killing. The thick, coppery smell of Hervan's death filled the air between them, making her swallow hard.

I will not cry,
she told herself.
I will not let him see me cry
.

Afraid, she drew a sharp breath and held it, refusing to answer.

Swearing, Shadrael bit off his gauntlet and gripped her face with his bare hand. His fingers dug into her flesh. “Tell me what you've done! I have to know the full range of your powers if I'm to hold you prisoner!”

Before she could speak, he used
sevaisin
, and this time the joining of her senses with his was brutal, invasive, painful. She struggled to resist, but he forced the connection, hurting her so much she cried out.

His mind filled hers with a stormy torrent of suspicions and savagery, and then she saw deeper…saw a fleeting glimpse of his true character…saw beyond it to his secret. In her shock, she stopped fighting him.

Abruptly he released her, breaking
sevaisin
. She collapsed to her knees, weeping in sheer reaction, pressing her hands to her face while he turned away, clenching and unclenching his fists, rage and humiliation coming off him with such force it felt as though they were still linked together.

“Damn you. Damn you!” he shouted. “Don't look at me like that! What do I care if you know? My men know. My brother knows. Everyone in the legion knows!”

She looked up at him through a blur of hot tears and saw him pacing.

“I have no soul,” he growled, glaring at her. “There, I have said it to you, little innocent girl with your big eyes and your stupid belief that everyone is good. I am not good! You should know that by now. I am not! And my men are not. We are damned, as damned as this man.” He gave Hervan's body an impatient kick. “And every moment I am in your presence I hurt, as though you are a hot blade set to cauterize me.”

Lea gulped back her tears. “What is unsworn can be set to rights while life remains.”

“Unsworn!” He unleashed a bitter laugh. “If that were all…”

“You can—”

“Shut up! I won't listen to that. I won't be pitied and I won't be preached to.” He marched up to her as though he would grab her and hoist her to her feet, but he did not touch her. “Don't you dare patronize me with your damned piety.”

The raw pain in his voice betrayed him. So she held her tongue, seeing that he could not bear comfort, could not listen to the truth, could not even accept hope. He was too lacerated, too damaged to believe anything she might say.

Besides, why should she bother to explain that she already knew about his wounded soul? What had shocked her just now was to discover his yearning to take someone else's soul instead of his own. Who had told him such a wicked thing? How had he come to believe something so wrong, so blasphemous, so misguided was even possible?

Feeling pity and compassion mingled, she watched him pacing.

“So,” he said finally, his voice less strident and defensive. “So you've broken through all the barriers and reached your brother, have you?”

“Why ask, since you have forced your secrets upon me and taken mine in return?” she asked.

He frowned, looking momentarily ashamed. “I hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“It was…necessary.” His frown deepened. “You lied to me.”

“Did you think me incapable of it?”

“Yes.”

She averted her gaze and said nothing. She could have told him that he was to blame for that, too, but it would not help either of them.

“So the emperor knows now,” Shadrael said. “Despite my putting you in
kwaibe
, despite my taking away your
gli
necklace, you still managed to tell him what has befallen you. Which means I can't take you to—”

Breaking off, he grimaced in pain and pressed his hand to the side seam of his breastplate.

She remained kneeling like a beggar at his feet and told herself,
He is ill after he uses shadow magic. He is weakened by his violence. I can escape him now before his men come back.

But when she tried to climb to her feet, her legs refused to support her. She sank down again, trembling all over, the taint of death and the effects of forced
sevaisin
making her run hot and cold.

Her necklace landed in a heap before her.

Astonished, she looked up at Shadrael, but he was turned away, still hunched and breathing hard.

“Go,” he said with an angry gesture. “I cannot keep you. Get away. Take your chances that my men don't find you in the woods.”

Lea lowered her gaze to the necklace of
gli
-emeralds. She wanted to pick it up so desperately that her hands shook with yearning. Yet she curled them into fists and pressed them hard together to withstand the temptation.

If she took them and fled, she would be able to hide in the woods until the mercenaries were gone. And then what would befall her? She could survive on her own despite the coming of winter. And Caelan would find her.

But her childhood memories of when Caelan had abandoned her came back so sharply that she could almost hear her screams after him. She felt the icy snow around her and that frantic sense of despair as she'd watched him run out of sight, straight toward disaster. On that terrible day, Caelan had thought he was doing the right thing in trying to help their father and the others at the hold. But he'd been wrong, and he'd paid a harsh price for his mistake.

Now, as she stared at Shadrael, she knew he was making an even bigger mistake, no matter how kind. He understood nothing, yet he was trying—in his own way—to apologize to her.

Beneath his harshness and bad temper he was not truly, not wholly an evil man or he would not suffer so. What had it cost him to set her free when the last obstacle to completing his mission lay dead at his feet?

She understood now why the gods had brought them together, but she did not want the responsibility of trying to salvage a man like him, a man trapped in shadow. She did not want to
care
about Shadrael tu Natalloh.

But it was too late for what she wanted. She already
did
care.

And she foresaw the future—his, if he let her go—and hers if she went with him. But if she picked up her necklace and ran, everything would change. She would be safe while he…

She stared at the emeralds, and could not bring herself to touch them.

Appalled, she doubled over in a knot of painful distress. She wept for all that she was losing. Because of him.

“Lea,” Shadrael said finally, his voice so quiet and flat with exhaustion it sounded almost gentle. “It's no trick. Just go.”

She turned away, aching, refusing to look at him.

Crouching stiffly, he picked up the
gli
-emeralds and put them away. She felt a tremor, wanting them and the strength they gave her, wanting anything to reassure her right now.

Shadrael placed his hand gently on her shoulder. She flinched, and he withdrew it as though burned.

“More pearls,” he said, scooping some off the ground. “You are crying pearls again.”

“Yes. Pearls of sorrow,” she whispered bleakly.

“For your friends? The cavalrymen? This captain? Are you crying pearls for him?”

For myself,
she wanted to say.
For what I've lost. For what I must become. I am giving up everything for you, and I do not know if you are worth it.
Frowning, unable to articulate what she was thinking, she stayed silent.

Shadrael weighed the pearls in his palm. “I had to kill him. You must realize that.”

“You don't answer to me for your actions, Commander.”

“Don't I?” he asked softly. Then he cleared his throat. “Now that the emperor knows of your plight, he'll head straight here, to Ulinia. I have led the imperial jackal, despite my care, right to Vord—” Wincing, he broke off and pressed his hand harder against his side. “I cannot do this.”

The agony in his voice made her look up as he staggered a few steps away from her. He swayed and braced his feet apart to hold his balance.

Watching him, suddenly aware of how pale he'd become, Lea rose to her feet. She did not go to him. She did not run away. She seemed held in place, like a moth caught in a spider's web. She could not leave him, and she was afraid.

Catching her staring at him, Shadrael bared his teeth. “We're not supposed to care about our families,” he burst out. “The army grinds it out of us in the first year. No allegiance to home or kin. There is to be nothing but our legion, our standard.” He flung a bloodstained hand to the north, pointing. “But
that
is home.”

She said, choosing her words with care, “You're taking me to the warlord of Ulinia.”

“Vordachai. His name is Vordachai.”

“Lord Vordachai hired you to abduct me.”

“I did not want you to know, for his protection.” Scowling, Shadrael dabbed some of the blood from his face. “You would not like him. I do not like him. But I do not—I do not want the emperor to crush him to dust. And so I will betray my brother to save him. Do you understand?”

“No.”

Shadrael nodded, looking sad. “He will not understand either. He will say I'm doing this for myself, that I value my own selfish concerns over his. He's right.”

“What does this matter?” Lea cried, out of patience. “Why can't you take me there and have your wounds tended? Let Lord Vordachai send word to my brother that I am safe. Let this end, here and now.”

He stared at her as though perplexed. “You didn't go when I gave you the chance. You haven't fought me on our journey. You've done almost nothing to escape, nothing I expected of you…End this? No. The game has barely started.”

She heard him through a sort of daze. Exhaustion sapped her, drained her dry. How could she continue this? she wondered. How could she endure what was to come?

“You, Lea, are the wind, the water, the ground I stand on,” he said in an odd voice. He hefted the pearls in his hand and sighed. “You are light brought to this world and made into something so fine, something so…”

Swaying, Shadrael let his voice trail off. The sun was setting now. Indigo shadows gathered around them, and the air had turned so cold it made her shiver. His wild talk might be delirium, she thought. He might die. Even so, there was no going back to what she'd been before she met him. She had changed too much.

Another pearl rolled down her cheek and she caught it, holding it in her cold hand as though she did not know what to do with it.

The night gathered closer, wrapping her in a blanket of darkness. She felt as though she were stepping into a chasm of shadows, falling forever, with no knowledge of how to get out.