B0161NEC9Y (F) (25 page)

Seeing his chance, Marc swung his leg over the saddle and jumped off, aiming for a cluster of large ferns. He misjudged his speed, though, hitting the ground with his feet, but then unable to stop the forward motion. He rolled, tumbling over a rock and crashing to a halt in a briar.

He groaned, yanking his limbs and crawling out, the thorns scratching along his cheeks and forehead and snagging his clothes. Out of breath, and seeing the horse continuing on without him, Marc shook his head and glanced around, trying to get his bearings.

The horse was fast, and it was excellent in battle, but the thing was wild. Sanders thought it would follow the horse in front of it. Nope. It just did what it wanted all the time. Marc was no match for the animal.

He took out his knife and tried to picture the area in his head. Southeastern side of the city. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a crow’s nest not too far away.

Staying silent, hearing the distant clang of swords and shouts of battle, Marc snuck through the trees, careful not to disturb leaves or snap twigs. Exactly where he expected, he saw wooden boards nailed to a large trunk. At the top he could just make out the edge of a platform within the leafy green.

The wood planking groaned as someone above shifted. It was definitely occupied.

Sweat dripping down his back, his breathing rapid no matter how he tried to calm down, he climbed the tree with his knife in his teeth. Putting it back in its sheath might’ve been wiser, but if he needed to grab it quickly, this would probably work out better.

The small board at the top of the trunk squeaked as he gripped it. He paused, staring up at the platform with wide eyes.

Nothing peered over the edge at him.

He pulled himself up slowly until his eyes were just over the lip of the platform to see black boots rooted to the wood. The Inkna was braced against the railing, staring out to the south. No doubt attacking the Captain with his mind.

Marc climbed up as slowly as possible, careful not to make a sound. The Captain had been right: this Inkna was so focused with his mind power that he wasn’t paying attention to anything else, including the guy with a knife crawling onto the platform.

Thank God.

Marc pulled himself up the rest of the way, straightening slowly. Knife held out and shaking dramatically, Marc took a step. His breathing turned shallow. Pressure pulsed in his ears. With a quick movement, he grabbed the Inkna’s shoulder with one hand as he stabbed with the other. The knife stuck in the man’s neck.

The Inkna yelled out in surprise and pain. Blaring agony tore through Marc’s head and blistered his body, so intense his teeth clicked shut and his eyes rolled back in his head. Before he knew it, he was tumbling backward, running out of wood to hold him up. The ground pulled at him, tugging his body away from the rest of the wood.

The pain bled away. Marc’s body stopped convulsing just as his torso went over the edge. He gave a panicked cry, his hands scrabbling for purchase. He was barely able to close his grip around a step.

His weight wrenched his shoulder, but he held on, dangling from the tree.

Marc gave an inarticulate sound and glanced down. The ground seemed to smile up at him, promising pain.

Feet scratching at the trunk, looking for purchase, he managed to get his other hand on the step. A moment later he was secure, clinging to the tree with his eyes closed, breathing a sigh of relief.

Why can’t I just doctor? That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do is just doctor. I shouldn’t be killing people. I should be saving them.

He rose up just a little, knowing the job wasn’t done. His gaze barely reached over the ledge where the limp body in a black uniform greeted him. The Inkna was definitely dead.

Rising up just a bit more, he snatched his knife off the ledge. He moved it to his teeth before he stopped himself. Deep crimson shone in the light. And it wasn’t his own blood.

He threw the knife to the ground. He’d clean it and tuck it back in his holster with the others.

Then he’d try and find the next Inkna before the Captain succumbed to the mental bombardment.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Shanti put up her hands, pushing at the net. The heavy material resisted, confining her. She bent to the ground. Finding the end, she gripped it with both hands and flung it over her. She crawled out, looking up.

Rohnan drove his blade into a Graygual. The man fell, his body next to one of four ropes connected to the net. Another Graygual lay dead near her, an arrow through his middle.

“You are not pulling your weight,
Chulan,
”
Rohnan said, moving to another Graygual running at them. He bore four slashes and was the last on the street.

“I am overseeing. I hate getting my hands dirty.” Shanti picked up her sword as Rohnan jogged into position. The Graygual slowed on balanced feet, his knees bent, his eyes wary. He thrust in a smooth, practiced movement. Rohnan, using his
Gift,
was already in position to block. He knocked the blade to the side and stabbed, finding a shoulder as the Graygual twisted at the last moment.

The Graygual lunged, his movements precise. Rohnan was already stepping to the side, out of the way. He kicked out, connecting with the Graygual’s hand and knocking the sword free. Then Rohnan leaned forward, digging his blade into the other’s ribs.

“Quit wasting time, Rohnan. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

Rohnan danced to the side as the Graygual grunted, feeling the pain from that strike but not succumbing to it. He put out his hands, ready to grapple, knowing that if he went for his blade, Rohnan would stab him easily.

“You could end it quickly with your
Gift,
”
Rohnan said, rushing forward and cleaving a forearm. The Graygual jerked it toward his body, a defensive reaction that left his side open. Rohnan took advantage, and ended the fight.

“I need to save my strength. It’s a lot against one. They are bullying me.”

“Challenging,
Chulan.
There’s a difference.”

“You’d better hope I hold out. Once they kill me, they’ll turn their
Gift
on you.” Shanti started jogging, stepping over the fallen bodies. Two more had arrows stuck in them, the shots well placed. It spoke of technique and practice. Alena wasn’t lying when she said she knew her way around a bow.

“I wonder if Cayan knows these women are practicing with weapons when no one is looking.” Shanti turned the corner, her
Gift
sensing no one in the area. Up ahead, though, bodies dotted the way, blocking her path. If she took a right or left now, she could travel along empty streets, but once she turned toward the mansion again, Graygual would be in the way.

“I wonder the same thing,” Rohnan said, slowing with her. There was no point in just running around the city, not when all the paths would end in the same fight. “He must. Yet he’s never mentioned it?”

“No. No one has.” Shanti cleaned her sword in an effort to stall. She felt Ruisa and Alena moving slowly in the direction she was heading, already way in front of her. They were probably getting into position. Other women dotted the way as well, mostly staying still. They were hiding with their explosives.

“What are we waiting for,
Chulan
?
Are the others not in position?”

Shanti took a deep breath and looked around, enjoying the beauty of the city. Usually it was spotless—these people took great pride in clean streets. They lived at a slower pace than other cities of this size, ambling along the street instead of hurrying. Friendlier, too. With the lush surroundings and the breeze blowing in the sweet smell of nature, this place couldn’t be beat. It was a little paradise tucked away in the north of the land. Perfection.

“I could’ve been really happy here, Rohnan.”

“Something you never mentioned to the Captain, I’d wager.”

“That man loves to chase. Who am I to make things easy for him?” Shanti inhaled, taking it all in.

“It is a lovely place, I agree.”

Alena and Ruisa stopped near the first line of Graygual. Shanti wondered how many Inkna were in that group; how strong they were.

“I don’t think I like the net technique.” Gracas and Leilius were moving slowly. Hardly at all. Not fighting, either. Shanti could feel their impatience and trepidation. They probably had too many blocking their way. The poison could not have taken down as many as it should have.

“This is a fool’s errand,” Shanti said in sudden exasperation. “Fuck it. Let’s just start killing people and see what happens.”

Shanti felt a piercing of intense pain from Cayan. It overtook her thoughts for a moment, begging her to climb the wall and toward him. He was probably overcome with Inkna, just as she was about to be.

Definitely a fool’s errand, all of this. But what choice did they have?

L
eilius stabbed a Graygual in the back. Right in the middle of the shoulder blades. Some people called that cowardly. Leilius didn’t care.

He slapped his hand over the man’s mouth, muffling the “arrgh.” His stomach churned and exploded, Leilius unable to help a dry heave. Killing hadn’t gotten any easier.

At least he’d stopped eating before battles. That helped.

He dragged the man a few steps and then dropped him, stashing him behind a tent. A scuffle sounded to the right. A leg covered in black pants kicked out. It disappeared for a moment, kicking out a second time, this time with the other one. The legs convulsed on the ground, kicking up dust, before going still.

Leilius looked out, through the gap in the line of tents. Prisoners sat on the ground in a cluster, herded together like cattle, looking all around them. Dirty, wild-haired, and unshaven, these guys had had a rough time of it for however long they’d been here. The ropes securing their arms had chafed, many with skin that had been rubbed raw. They were squished together, with very little room between them.

Graygual surrounded them, more than Gracas had said there’d be. Many more. It seemed like the Hunter was trying to fortify these ranks. It was smart. Without more men, there was really no point in fighting today. Especially not with all the Inkna running around, blasting people with their mental magic.

“What do you—”

Leilius jumped and turned, sticking out his knife before he realized it was Gracas. He swung the knife wide as Gracas reacted, slapping his hand away.

“You need to pay more attention,” Gracas whispered with a scowl. “If I was as slow as you, I’d probably be dying right now!”

“Sorry. I’m jumpy.”

They looked out through the gap again.

“What do you think?” Gracas asked.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do. I think Maggie only has a few of those chemical things, but everyone is all huddled together. The Hunter knew we’d come here.”

“Of course he knew. I’ve seen a bunch of dead Graygual in the tents, but there’s plenty out there, too.”

Leilius gripped his knife so hard his hand hurt. “They just seem like a bunch because we have no one to fight them.”

“Should we just charge, or should we head back to S’am and help her?”

“I’m not the leader!” The pressure of command weighed down Leilius’ shoulders and clouded his judgment. He was used to ghosting around, listening and reporting. Strategy and battle eluded him. He’d never been good at it. S’am
knew
that.

“Boys, what are you doing?” Maggie asked from behind them. She held one of her contraptions. Blood spattered her shirt front. A few drops were on her cheek.

For a novice, she sure learned in a hurry.

“There are a lot of them,” Leilius admitted, feeling sheepish. He was in the army and she was a woman. He should have a plan.

“We might just go back to S’am,” Gracas said, probably thinking the same thing.

Maggie’s brow furrowed. She looked beyond them, through the gap. “We need those men. They’ll be stiff and weak, but Shanti didn’t seem to have much hope. I don’t think this will end well without them.”

“Yeah, but they’re surrounded by Graygual…” Gracas said. “And Leilius can’t fight for shit. And you don’t know what you’re doing. So what does that leave us?”

“Same as what you started—idiots.” Maggie was still staring out beyond them. “Well, we have to try. The ones at the far end are a little removed. Not much, but enough that I can set off one of these explosives. The explosion should toss them toward the prisoners without actually hurting the prisoners. Maybe a few will be a little…uncomfortable, but we don’t have much choice. Those men will make short work of any Graygual, I think. Stomp on them or something. It’ll be a distraction, at least. We’ll dash in and cut as many hands free as we can. Then, hopefully, we can work on the other Graygual together.”

Leilius was nodding before she stopped talking. Gracas just stared.

Her look grazed each of them, her brow furrowing a bit harder. “This is the best Shanti had to work with, huh? You might as well have drool running out of your mouth, kid. Cripes. C’mon, we’re wasting time.”

Leilius followed her around the perimeter of the tents, moving toward the area she wanted to hit with the explosives. They passed a dead Graygual lying facedown. Then another. A few more. All of them looked like they’d been trying to go somewhere, and then died. Just…keeled over and died. There were no wounds that Leilius could see, and no blood.

“Nasty poison, that,” Maggie whispered, pointing at one of the bodies as she jogged by it. “Someone must’ve slipped it into water or food or something. It’s a really fast-acting poison that’s clear and odorless. It could kill within an hour. The body doesn’t even have time to properly evacuate its stomach or bowels before it starts shutting down.”

“An hour?” Leilius asked as Gracas said, “You made that?”

“We’re not allowed to use it,” Maggie said, slowing. Her words were barely a whisper now, hard to hear. “It was a mixture passed down the Captain’s line, actually. Sonya, the Captain’s mother, put it into Eloise’s care until the Captain marries again. It is supposed to stay with that line until times of war. Thank God she had the foresight to pass it on. It’s helped.”