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Authors: Kate Jacoby

BOOK: Trial of Fire
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Finnlay was a little annoyed when Robert looked askance at him.

‘This is Finnlay’s idea?’

‘Don’t start,’ Finnlay warned him.

‘But you’re always such an easy target,’ Robert grinned at him. ‘Even now.’

Jenn stopped the ensuing battle by holding up her hands. ‘Fine, if you two want to fight, you can do it while I’m eating my supper. Right now, I want you to consider this solution, Robert. Finn, be quiet a moment, please?’

‘But it was my idea!’

‘And you’ll just provide your brother with another moving target. Please, Finn?’

He sat back and folded his arms. ‘Fine. Go ahead.’

Turning to Robert, she said, ‘Since I’m already joined to the Key, this shouldn’t present any danger to anyone. Finnlay’s idea is that if I create a mask, and he supports me using the tandem link he developed, then you can dissolve your own mask for a few hours and get some sleep.’ She paused, then continued, ‘Martha also says that because of the tandem link, our connection to the Key is limited, so theoretically, any of us could do this and make it work. Because we’re only doing it while we’re stationary, none of us will need to physically touch the Key.’

Robert said nothing for a moment; he just stared, first at Jenn, then at Finnlay. Then he shocked them both when he said, ‘You’re confident you can hold the mask steady over the Key?’

Finnlay gaped at his brother. Robert usually argued against involving Jenn at all, because of the risk to her, because of his own vow to protect her – and now he was virtually agreeing to this?

‘Yes,’ Jenn replied, not as shocked as Finnlay, but certainly surprised. ‘I can’t hold it on my own, and if we were moving, I wouldn’t have a hope. With Finn’s help, I know we can do it.’

Long seconds of silence ended when Robert agreed. ‘Very well. But I want Martha or Fiona here monitoring you both. At the first sign of difficulty, they have to wake me. And nobody else is to try this until you’re sure it works without contact with the Key. Agreed?’

Jenn’s smile flashed sunshine into the night, which made Finnlay question Robert’s real motives for agreeing. She sprang to her feet and ran off to get Martha.

‘I hope you know what you’re doing, brother,’ Robert murmured into the silence.

‘So do I,’ Finnlay replied, equally softly. He paused a moment, then whispered, ‘You have to tell me, don’t you find having that much power at your fingertips even a little tempting?’

Robert blinked once, then casually turned away, his voice almost inaudible. ‘You have no idea.’

Jenn returned with Martha and Fiona. There were minutes spent explaining the process, when Jenn’s mask would be established, when Robert could release his – and then they were all seated, and Finnlay was holding Jenn’s hand, and watching her face, and her other hand as it hovered over the bag holding the Key. Robert sat opposite them, his tender back cushioned by blankets and resting against a tree, concern written all over his pale face, a little fear visible in his eyes.

Finnlay tore his attention away and back to Jenn. Then, just as they’d practised, he breathed deeply, focusing in on where his hand held Jenn’s, on the shape and depth of her complex aura, and the pulsing power of the Key/Calyx before them. Second after second slipped by as he steadied his breathing, as he felt Jenn do the same. Then abruptly, as if a veil had been drawn over it, the bag seemed to fade for a moment, as though it had become transparent. But this was a mask only of the Key’s aura, not of its actual physical appearance, and so the image became more solid as Jenn settled into it. Once it stabilised, Finnlay reached out and …
pushed
. He let the power flow through him, meagre though it was. Still, it was enough to fill in the gaps for Jenn, to give her a foundation she
could lean back on; his greater expertise with the mask made it all the more solid.

Oh, it was such a pleasure to be working like this again – and to finally put this tandem link to good use! It lay there before him, like an open channel cut into the air, breathing of its own accord, and so easy to keep flowing. Afterwards, he’d have to ask Jenn how it worked for her, how she experienced it, whether it was hard to hold. The possibilities for its use could be endless …

‘Well?’ Martha whispered, kneeling before them both. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Fine,’ Finnlay replied. ‘Jenn?’

‘Fine. It’s not easy, but I saw how Robert did it and …’ She opened her eyes and smiled a little. ‘With practise, Robert, I think we could give you four, perhaps five hours’ sleep.’

When there was no answer, Finnlay looked over at his brother, but even then he got no response. Instead, there was nothing but the soft hiss of steady breathing.

Robert was fast asleep.

8

Long drops of liquid light fell onto the lake, giving the sunset a feeling of time slowing down, of nearing its natural end. On the opposite bank, spiky thorns of young conifers stood black against the twilight, forming an inky, impenetrable mass.

The lake was too deep to cross, and there were no boats nearby large enough to take the horses. Though it would slow him down, Nash would have to go around.

He stood on the shore of the lake, where dry pebbles crunched beneath his feet. Above him, streaks of thick grey cloud obscured the sun, spraying the sky with layers of blue, orange, yellow and red. Behind him, if he’d looked, the heavens had turned a royal purple, forewarning a storm to come.

‘Master, the horses are watered and ready to travel. Are we to camp here the night?’

‘Here?’ Nash frowned. He was still too far away. ‘No, we’ll go on further before we stop tonight.’ He turned then, and without a glance to ensure his men followed, he swung up onto his horse, kicked its sides and galloped away, north, around the lake.

*

The wind rose an hour after sundown. In the copse where he’d chosen to camp, it whistled through the treetops and howled its way out onto the valley. The noise unsettled the horses and plagued Nash as he tried to concentrate.

He’d had three fires lit, just as he had for the past four nights since he’d found the Key. The fires formed the points of a large triangle amongst the trees. He sat on a blanket in the centre of them, legs crossed, breathing steadily. He kept his eyes open, however, for even now he didn’t trust Valena. His men were on guard-duty, or resting. Either way, they left him alone. Bonded Malachi had little to talk to him about.

It was incredible how much stronger he felt; and how little he could do with all this power. Even so, he relaxed his muscles, allowed his Senses to reach out to the night, then began Seeking. Detached, he launched himself into the nothingness, ignoring the faint auras of his men, the brighter auras
of his Bonded Malachi. He dwelt for a moment on Valena’s aura; even drugged, there was a familiar tone and quality to it he could not ignore. But he pushed on, Seeking west and further west.

Where was he? Where was the Key?

Even with this newly regenerated body, even with all this power almost flowing from his fingertips, why couldn’t he find them?

He ranged north and south, up to the Goleth mountains and beyond. Nothing. And all of it was so grey, so completely like every other time he’d been Seeking. No matter what he did, he could never recreate that one night when he’d found the Key, found the Enemy – and seen it all with his own eyes, as though he were there with them.

Fury dragged him back into his own body; he stood, wanting to hit something. Snatching his cloak from the ground, he swung it around his shoulders and stalked back towards camp. He ignored his soldiers, his Malachi, their food and fires. Instead, he made directly for the place where Valena was kept apart from the others, chained to a tree, even her hands bound to prevent her doing anything. She had it in her to end her own life, just to spite him.

He stopped before her. She lay on a blanket, on her side, hands up to cushion her head. Beneath the blanket was a layer of bracken, softening her bed. She had another blanket over her, keeping her warm where the night would freeze her. Her eyes were closed; ignoring him, no doubt. He couldn’t trust her, so he kept her drugged enough not so she could neither move nor speak, but just enough to prevent her from using her powers against him. She would kill him if she could; one of the reasons he wanted to keep her alive: it kept him alert and ready for danger. With her so close, he could never become complacent.

By the blood, how he hated her. ‘Tell me how he did it.’

She barely moved. ‘Why do you think I would tell you anything?’

‘Yet you know you will.’

Valena groaned and rolled over, using her bound hands to shift her body. Nash watched her discomfort with a kind of joy which almost erased his earlier anger. ‘Come,’ he said conversationally, ‘wake up properly and talk to me. I’ll delay your next dose of drugs if you behave yourself.’

That earned him a low laugh, her voice husky in the deadened wood. ‘You want something from me? You want me to help you? You want me to talk to you?’ Her laughter deepened, but eventually ended with her coughing. As she gasped for air, she sat up, opening her eyes. ‘You already have everything I ever valued. I have nothing more to give. Leave me alone.’

Deliberately, Nash stepped closer, forcing her to look up, but even there, he could see no fear in her eyes, no suggestion that he had the ability to
control her in any way at all. Even the drugs did no more than subdue her. And that wasn’t enough, not for the one who had betrayed him, and in such a manner. Revenge demanded her broken, and to do that, he would have to make her give things she didn’t have, things she didn’t even know she cared about.

Reaching down, he took her elbow, forcing her up enough to sit on a fallen log. Then he grabbed her chin with one hand and held it hard. She grimaced against the pain, though her beautiful face lost none of its allure in the process. Only now was he immune to it – amazing: his regeneration had finally made him invulnerable to her.

His revenge had already begun.

He shook her face, revelling in the pain he caused. Then he began, ‘You think that because you lost both lover and child that you have nothing else to lose. You think that there is nothing else I can take from you, nothing else that could hurt you. How narrow your perception.’

He let go and stepped back, folding his arms as something else occurred to him. ‘Or is it that you expect the D’Azzir to come after you? You were DeMassey’s mate and now he’s dead. Surely his men will protect you, rescue you from my evil plans?’ Nash laughed again; this was so much fun now that he thought about it. ‘I’m afraid if they haven’t found you yet, they never will. Besides, from what I hear, they’ve taken DeMassey’s body back to Karakham for your traditional Malachi funeral rites, haven’t they?’

‘Of course they have!’ Valena spat back. ‘They loved and respected Luc. They would ensure all duties were paid to him.’

‘Empty gestures! Taking his
dead
body back for a pyre when you are here, in need of rescue? Do they not see how preposterous that is? This is why your people have failed, year after year, to gain what they wanted from the Salti: not one of you has had the courage to stand against your idiotic traditions long enough to try something new, to see if there’s another way that might get you what you want. Instead, you’ve left the way open and now
I
have found the Salti,
I
have found the Key!’

Valena gave him a slow smile at that. ‘In which case, why do you need
my
help? Why not just kill me and be done with it?’

‘Kill you?’ Nash grabbed her arm again and hauled her to her feet. ‘And end your suffering? But, my dear, that would be murder.’

She began to laugh again, untouched by his anger, his threats. The very sound made his skin crawl. ‘Luc knew you were a monster. That’s why he used poison on himself. That’s what he did, isn’t it? So you couldn’t use his blood to regenerate. And now you think you’ll use me, as you used my baby?’

Her laughter was like straw to the flames of his fury. He sank his fingers
into her flesh, exerting enough power to make her skin burn. She hissed in pain, no longer laughing, but that wasn’t enough for him. ‘You think I can’t hurt you? Really? Well, what about if I gave you to my men as sport for the night, eh? You think you would enjoy that? If you were bound and tied? If I let them use you like the whore you are? Knowing that I would give them explicit instructions on exactly what they were to do?’

She had stopped moving, her gaze downcast, her breathing harsh and stunted. In that moment, he felt his first real taste of victory. ‘See?’ he whispered close to her face, seeing her flinch as his breath flowed over her unblemished skin. ‘It seems there are still things you are not willing to lose.’

He held her there a moment longer, then carefully released her, stepping back to give her time to think. She remained standing, her hands clasped together, ignoring the ropes binding her.

‘Now you will help me,’ he continued after a moment, his voice full of certainty. ‘You will help me find the Enemy and the Key. Won’t you, Valena?’

She was silent a moment longer, then she lifted her chin, keeping her eyes from him, denying him that. ‘You can’t find him, can you? You keep Seeking Douglas and the Key and you can’t find either of them. Why do you think I know where they’ve gone? I was never on their side.’

‘No, but you were with DeMassey a long time, and as Master of the D’Azzir, he was highly skilled in the ways of the Malachi. Somehow, Douglas has managed to hide the Key from me, and I need to know how he’s done it.’

Valena was silent again, but he didn’t push her this time. For the moment, he would leave her alone, relatively speaking.

‘He must be using a mask of some kind.’

Nash frowned. ‘But not even he has that kind of power! I couldn’t do it myself, not even after I’ve regenerated! The Key has an aura that can’t be masked, that’s why it’s so odd that I—’

‘He might be able do it if he uses the power of the Key itself.’ Wearily, Valena pulled her gown about her and sat back down on the log. ‘I don’t know the Key of course, but from what I understand, he could do it using the Key’s own power – but how he would harness it, I couldn’t tell you.’

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