Willing Sacrifice (17 page)

“Agreed,” he said. “I’ll be back within an hour.”

Torr helped her climb a thick tree. The dense canopy of metallic blue leaves hid her position well.

He loped off and was back inside of fifteen minutes. His expression was grim.

“What?” she asked.

“I was too late. The Masons are gone, and I have no idea which way they went.”

B
renya greeted Torr by grabbing his ear and dragging him into her hut.

“Nice to see you, too,” he told her between gritted teeth.

The older woman’s tone was crisp and frosty. “You were gone too long. I worried.”

He stepped back, nearly ripping his ear off to get her to let go. “I’m sorry about that. We ran into trouble.”

“Of course you did. Why else would I have need to send you if not to deal with trouble?”

“We got slowed down a couple of times. First there was Grace’s near hypothermia to deal with, then my busted knee. And both Grace and I felt it necessary to stop and warn the women in the southern village about the danger the Hunters pose. We did the best we could. Just be glad we made it back in one piece.”

“One piece? Grace was limping.”

“I noticed that, too. She tried to hide it, so I played along. She’s got it in her head that she’s weak, and I didn’t think it would be nice to make her feel that way.”

Brenya’s mouth tightened with her scowl. “Foolish games. I sent her with you so that she would learn to trust you. How can she do so when I am no longer certain you are worthy?”

“Wait just a minute. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Did you ask her to heal you?”

“No. You know Grace. She just decided to do that on her own. I couldn’t have stopped her from making that nasty concoction if I’d tried.”

“Concoction?”

“Yeah. The knockout juice she forced me to drink—the one she said you taught her how to make.”

Brenya’s anger faded between one second and the next. She seemed to deflate, growing shorter and older in an instant. “You did not ask her to use the disks to heal your injuries?”

“Hell, no. I’d never do that. I didn’t even know it was possible.”

“It is. As long as she is connected to you, she can choose to take on your ailments. I had hoped it would take her longer to learn the trick.”

Suddenly the pieces clicked together in Torr’s head. “You’re telling me that the reason Grace is limping is because she healed my knee?”

“Yes. That is the way the device works. She takes the injury upon herself.”

“But what about the other times I’ve been wounded? She wasn’t hurt then.”

“Healing must be a conscious choice. Once that choice is made, it cannot be stopped. And the more she comes to care for you, the easier it will be for her to activate the disks’ magic.”

Torr could see Grace now, sitting beside him, wishing she could do more to ease his pain. “Fuck,” he spat, furious that he hadn’t seen this coming. “What do we do now?”

“Hope she does not already understand what she has done. Hope she remains ignorant long enough for you to rid Temprocia of the Solarc’s minions and get her settled in her rightful home.”

“She’s smart, Brenya. She’s going to figure it out fast.”

“Then I suggest you try harder to limit your injuries. Your body can withstand much more abuse than hers. If she decides to heal the wrong wound . . .”

He held up his hand to keep her from saying any more. “Believe me, I know.”

Grace wasn’t going to stop. As soon as she figured out what she could do for him, she would do it. Over and over until it was too late. He’d lose her, all because she had no sense of self-preservation.

“I see you understand the situation clearly,” said Brenya. “We have the crystals now. All that is left is for you to discover where the portal is being constructed, wait for its completion, then destroy it. There is a place you must go. A lake miles from here.”

“Can you handle things here if I leave?”

“I will do what I must, as I always have.” Her expression changed in an instant, going from weary acceptance to fear. “My defenses faltered. I was not exerting enough energy. You must go to the western perimeter. Now!”

“Why?” Torr asked.

A child’s scream of fear tore through the air and he no longer needed an answer.

His response to the sound was both primal and immediate. He burst through the hut door, racing toward that terrified sound—one he’d heard too many times before to mistake it for anything else.

As he cleared the Sentinel Stone, he saw a woman’s body lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. Nearby stood the little girl with the white-blond hair who’d nearly been eaten by the lizard when he’d arrived. She was staring at the gory sight, screaming and immobile.

A few feet away from her was a sleek stone Hunter. One of its eyes rotated until it was looking at Torr. The moment it saw him, it charged the little girl, still wearing the blood of its first kill.

•   •   •

One second Grace was getting a drink from the well, the next she was standing in Brenya’s hut, dripping ladle in hand. The flash of light from the portal was still blinding her when the other woman grabbed her arm.

“I cannot be seen by the Hunter,” she told Grace. “I will take the others to the southern village. You must not let the invaders find us there. Keep them busy.”

“How?”

Outside, the screams of fear mingled discordantly with those of battle. Of all of them, Tori’s high, ferocious cries were the loudest and easiest to recognize.

Dry fingers settled on Grace’s brow just as her vision was beginning to clear. Instantly, all of her aches and pains vanished.

“This is all I can teach you,” said Brenya. “There is no more time.”

Pressure built behind Grace’s eyes until she was sure they would soon pop out of her head. As fast as the sensation came, it passed, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. “What was that?”

“Knowledge. It will unveil itself as you need it. I am sorry. I had hoped to spare you this.”

“Spare me what? I don’t understand.”

“I know, child. But you will. Too soon.” She picked up the box of crystals Torr had collected. “Come for these if you live. I will protect them until the time is right.”

Before Grace could ask more questions, Brenya disappeared in a flash of light.

All the screams outside suddenly stopped.

Panic tore through Grace, shoving her forward on numb feet. She flew past the door so fast some of the sticks it was made of broke. She was sure that everyone outside would be dead—killed by whatever had attacked.

Instead, she saw no one but Torr and one of the Athanasian women who had only recently come here to have her child. She had been so horribly slain that her body was nearly unrecognizable. Everyone else had vanished.

Brenya. She’d done this. That’s what she’d meant by taking everyone to the southern village. She’d teleported them there, leaving only Grace and Torr behind.

But why?

As soon as her thoughts touched on the question, the answer blazed in her mind in vivid detail.

The Hunter had killed one of the Athanasian women—one of the Solarc’s daughters. The Hunter would report this kill back to the Masons, who would then report back to the Warden, who would report to the Solarc. If this Hunter didn’t die, then the Solarc would know his daughters were sneaking through the gate. By nightfall, this whole world would be invaded with a force so powerful that even Brenya’s magic wouldn’t be able to hold them at bay.

“You have to kill it,” she yelled at Torr.

His muscles bunched with the effort of combat. “Working on it.”

The Hunter began to back away toward the tree line. If it got much farther, it could disappear into the woods and they’d lose it.

Grace couldn’t let that happen.

She grabbed the closest weapon she could find—the ax used for splitting firewood. She’d spent enough hours with this tool in her hands for it to feel comfortable there. And while she knew that she was no match for the Hunter, she could at least keep its attention.

She sprinted toward the creature, weapon raised, screaming like a crazy person. One of its eyes swiveled toward her.

“Stay back!” ordered Torr, but she ignored him.

Getting close enough to the thing for it to slice her in half wasn’t an option, but that wasn’t her plan. All she had to do was get a little closer.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Torr’s body speed as he launched a series of graceful blows. She didn’t dare look at him directly. She couldn’t afford the distraction.

Her lungs were burning by the time she got close enough to hurl the ax at the side of the Hunter. It provided a huge, flat target that even she couldn’t miss at this distance.

The hard head of the ax slammed into the top edge of the Hunter, knocking it off balance. Small chips of black rock rained down from where she’d hit it, freezing the ground wherever they touched. It regained its footing and turned to face her and charge. Torr was faster and shattered it with one brutal blow from the Mason’s hammer.

Red gashes opened in his skin wherever the shards struck him. He scanned the area, searching for more enemies. His chest moved heavily with each breath, and the expression on his face was terrifying enough to have Grace backing away.

“Stay where I can see you,” he snapped.

She clamped down on the urge to run, though she wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to ease his worry or because she didn’t want to provoke him into chasing her.

That was one footrace she knew she couldn’t win.

When he was satisfied that there were no more Hunters here, he turned to her. He was furious. His face was red, his amber eyes practically bulging with the force of his anger.

He took one long step forward.

Now she wished she’d run.

She stumbled back and tried to pull in a breath despite her hammering pulse. The cold air caught in her throat. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe.

She’d felt this way before, and as that knowledge came to her, so did the memory.

Her home had been invaded by demons. She and her stepbrother were desperately trying to stay quiet. He had a golf club in his hands, his young, scrawny body quivering with fear. She held the pistol her stepfather had kept in his sock drawer.

He didn’t need it anymore. He was dead in the living room, demons feasting on his flesh.

It was better than he deserved.

She still couldn’t believe what she’d seen, still couldn’t find a place in her mind for those creatures to fit. They were too twisted and scary to be real.

As terrifying as they were, what really frightened her was the comatose body of her mom, lying helpless in the back room, surrounded by the machines and tubes that kept her alive. Once the demons were finished with her stepfather and came searching for more food, the only thing standing between them and Grace’s mom was her, her baby brother, a shaky golf club, and an even shakier gun.

The door to the back room flew open. The demon was huge, with rows of yellow teeth coated in red blood. That, and the eyes. Glowing, sickly green.

She stepped in front of Blake and fired. Each bullet pushed the monster back a few inches and made it more furious.

The gun clicked. Empty.

Blake’s squeaky scream of rage bellowed out of him as he charged. Grace grabbed him around the middle and flung him back onto Mom.

A loud crash sounded in the living room. Low male grunts and the wet slap of severed flesh hitting the hardwood floor.

The demon charged.

Grace blinked, shocked to realize that she was in her little village, standing only a few feet away from the tiny hut she called home.

But this wasn’t her home. It wasn’t even her world.

Torr stood in front of her, holding her shoulders as if he feared she’d topple over. Concern lined his face and made his amber eyes burn bright. “Breathe, honey.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant until she felt the burning in her lungs. She’d been holding her breath against the terror of her memory.

She forced her mouth open, forced air into her lungs. It was a strange mix of summer warmth with swirling tendrils of cold from the Hunter’s presence.

He slipped her hair behind her ear and tipped her chin up to look at him. “Better?”

She nodded. Swallowed.

Mom
. She’d been so helpless. Had the monsters gotten to her? Had they reached Blake?

“I think my whole family is dead,” she whispered.

A shocked pause passed. “You had another memory?”

“Yeah. Demons broke into our house. Ate Jerry. Blake and I were protecting Mom.” She had to force another breath. “I don’t know if they survived.”

His expression went blank. He let her go and stepped away to where the Sentinel Stone had stood only moments before. A shallow depression was left in the dirt. Small insects scrambled for cover from the suns.

Brenya had taken that, too.

Torr scanned the forest, making it impossible for her to see his face. “I’m sure they’re fine,” he said.

Facing her worry was somehow harder without his touch. It made her feel completely alone. Weak. “You don’t know that.”

“You should try to stay positive. Things here are tough enough without you borrowing trouble.”

“I just wish I knew the truth.”

“Maybe you will,” he said, his voice oddly flat. “Maybe one day you’ll remember everything.”

“Every memory I have is crappy. You’d think there’d be at least a couple of good ones in there, too.”

He looked at her then, finally shedding whatever chill had come over him. There was blatant need on his face, so stark it was almost desperation. “I hope so, Grace.”

She had no idea what to make of his odd behavior. Maybe all Theronai were like him, running hot and cold after a battle. She couldn’t be sure. The only other one she’d met was Tori, who was always burning hot, her every action fueled by rage.

Torr made a full circle of the area before he came back to where she waited, trying to pull herself together. “I saw the light when everyone vanished. Brenya?”

“Yes. She said she was taking everyone to the southern village.”

“She didn’t take everyone. You’re still here.”

“She wanted me to tell you that she has the crystals and that we should come get them when the time is right.”

“I would have figured that out on my own without her using you as a messenger.”

Grace refused to let his curt tone insult her. She’d helped him in that fight, and nothing he could say would change that. “That’s not the only reason she left me behind. She gave me information.”