Read Daybreak Online

Authors: Ellen Connor

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

Daybreak (26 page)

BOOK: Daybreak
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“How’d you find it?” he asked then. “Do you have a perfect memory for cartography or what?”
She shook her head, seeming a little abashed. “It’s Arturi. I can feel him, like a warm spot in the back of my brain. He’s been there ever since I was a little kid.”
“Right. Your friend, Finn.”
He still didn’t trust the guy, even if she’d known him forever. The little man would be more unpredictable with the loss of his wife. When men loved, they didn’t stay rational. He ought to know. Tru resolved to be wary, but he’d follow her lead.
Untold moments later, he hopped onto the dock to moor the boat. The larger craft Reynard had captained bobbed in the harbor, safe and sound. At least that many had returned safely.
No guards waited for them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. If Arturi knew his wife had been kidnapped, why wasn’t the island covered with patrols?
Foreboding swelled as Tru trudged the stone-lined path toward camp. “Arturi’s
here,
right?”
Pen nodded. “He’s just up ahead.”
Nobody seemed alarmed. No amped-up security measures. Instead, kids took lessons and people did their calisthenics. Workers went about their business, with women at their looms and men gutting the morning catch. A few settlers gazed in awe at the woman beside him. Two people dropped in obeisance as she passed. Had Pen been wearing a skirt or robes, they would’ve kissed the hem.
“That is
not
right,” he whispered, stifling a smile.
“You’re telling me.”
“I wasn’t just talking about that, actually. The whole atmosphere feels off. They should be upset. And preparing for battle.”
Worry glazed her deep blue eyes. “I agree.”
“Can you tell anything about the little guy’s mood?”
“I don’t receive from him anymore. We’re not in each other’s minds the way we were as kids.”
He felt pleased as hell to hear it. Tru would never share his woman; he’d claw out somebody’s intestines first. Pen cut him an odd look.
Shit, did she see that?
Her narrow look indicated she had. The pattern so far, then, suggested that strong emotions broadcast mental pictures back and forth.
Good to know.
Are you sure about this?
The lion wondered.
We could have
six
females to serve us. Less work.
Tru stifled a laugh.
That’s what
you
think.
Moments later, they found Arturi in his tent, and he seemed remarkably untroubled. “You were gone longer than I expected. Reynard said the conditions were terrible. But I’m glad to congratulate you on your success!” He glanced behind them, as if he expected more people. “Where are Zhara and the others?”
Fuck me. He doesn’t know
.
The message from the island to Mary Agnes had come from the traitors, not Arturi. Which meant Pen had the honor of bearing bad news, and Tru knew, historically, what happened to the messenger.
TWENTY-SEVEN
 
Pen sat down. Heavily. The strength in her legs puffed away like a gust of steam. “You don’t . . . ?”
She wanted to ask Arturi a different question. Obviously he didn’t know about Zhara, and she had no need for him to confirm in words what shone from his open features. But she dearly wanted to know whether he loved his wife; it was absurd but important.
What’s it like, old friend? Is it terrifying? Glorious? Maybe both?
She saw both sides of the coin at once. Because if Arturi truly loved his wife, that bond had better be worth the pain Pen was about to inflict.
Tru sat beside her. He seemed weary but alert, his mind like a bright beacon shining inside hers. Just images. Images of detention cells and Arturi’s men hauling them out of the tent, never to be seen again. Those freeze-frame fears were more than enough for her to sense his wariness.
“Finn, I have bad news.”
She used her nickname on purpose.
Hear me. Trust me.
And with plain, calm words, she described all that had taken place since she left the island. Empty truck. Swim to safety. Assassination attempt. Arrest. She didn’t even leave out making love, although she omitted a great many details.
The complete truth.
Anything less would not help Zhara, and it might even lead to those detention cells Tru had imagined.
But each word drained more color from Arturi’s face. His freckles became more prominent, like a blotchy sunburn. He raked shaking fingers through his reddish, overlong hair. “She wanted the test. She
insisted
. When I would’ve trusted you right away.”
“I didn’t ask for your faith,” Pen said quietly. “And her intuition was right.”
“Yes, and I should have listened.” His heavily accented words were a low mumble. To come so far after the Change and be reduced to such a moment of weakness. It left Pen shivering inside. Nothing could ever be taken for granted. “I should have believed her warnings. Now . . . Christ, Penny. My
wife
.”
Tears shimmered in his eyes, giving Pen all the answer she needed. He loved Zhara. Very much. She was no woman he’d chosen out of sympathy or obligation. And he was in agony.
Is love worth it?
She stuffed her selfish question back down into her heart.
Before Pen could offer him counsel, Tru cleared his throat. It sounded more like a truncated growl. “I’m going to ask this because it’s important. Will you hear me out?”
The air between them crackled with an energy Pen could nearly see. Other than her foster father, Mason, she had never been closer to another man. To see them square off with such animosity in their postures and on their faces made her want to shrink back—or yell at them for tugging her loyalty.
Arturi nodded. His eyes still glowed with a sheen of grief, but they narrowed in suspicion.
“Could Zhara have been in league with O’Malley’s people?” Tru asked.

No
.”
“Let me finish.” Tru’s voice remained steady. “Pen said she was a soothsayer for O’Malley, yes?”
Another curt nod from Arturi.

And
she insisted on a mainland raid to test Pen’s loyalty. Had Pen been killed, the person responsible could’ve told you any number of lies. Made her out to be the traitor. All those plans you’ve been making? Crushed, because the Orchid—your symbol of goodness and hope—was dead. Wouldn’t that suit O’Malley?”
With slow movements, Arturi stood. He crossed to lean on the edge of his desk. Pen kept her thoughts wide open, looking for any sign of his intention or ideas, but nothing came. Either they had outgrown their connection, or he had learned to keep secrets from her.
“All true,” he said quietly. “And yet I would cut my own throat before I believe it.”
Tru held his gaze. “Tell me why.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t assume, right now, that you sabotaged the missing ship.”
“Because you know me, apparently. You sent Burke to the dock, waiting to sail me to shore.”
Pen flinched. She cast a quick glance between the two, seeing the truth. No matter how resigned she’d been to Tru’s leaving, she didn’t like the idea of anyone else knowing her vulnerability. Not even Finn.
“And yet, against type, you returned. What am I to make of that?”
“Then you know why I came back,” Tru said tightly. “So don’t give me that bullshit. I’m here for Pen, and I nearly drowned swimming a six-year-old out to his mother’s arms. Tell me I sold that kid out. Or that I’m planning to put a knife in Pen’s back. I
dare
you.”
Silence lengthened between them, turning the air in the tent hot and difficult to breathe. Pen found the moment to ask her question after all, although her motives were far less personal now. “Finn, do you love her?”
“Yes.” His voice broke on that one word—blurted without hesitation.
“Why did she doubt it?”
“She told you that?”
“Not with so many words,” Pen said quietly. “But she seemed almost jealous of our . . . history. Seemed to think you were hiding things from her. I want to believe you. Me, of all people, Finn. But I can’t if you lie.”
Tru’s pride swelled like a bright sun in her mind. She held it back. No time for that sort of emotion to cloud her judgment.
Arturi’s shoulders hunched. He looked down at his hands, which were stained with ink and chapped from the chores he completed alongside everyone else. “I thought I was mad,” he said. “Completely mad. Even with all the changes we’ve seen, nothing ever explained how I knew you. So I told her as little as possible. To be frank, I thought she might leave me if she knew the full extent of our connection.”
A sense of companionship unlike any she’d known took up too much room in Pen’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. That Finn could’ve shared her ideas of madness. Her fears. Strange, but she’d never even considered the possibility. Why would she? Until a few weeks ago, she’d believed him a figment of her imagination.
But she needed to focus on Zhara. With a frown she asked, “What do you mean, leave? She loves you dearly. That much shines from her.”
“Maybe now,” Arturi said. “But she was . . . wounded by O’Malley. Deeply. She had a twin sister. But O’Malley wanted to punish Zhara for an inaccurate prediction. The runes failed him, and he needed a scapegoat. He forced her to choose between the slaughter of ten slave children and the death of her own sister.”
“Jesus,” Tru whispered. “That sick fuck.”
“When I helped liberate that camp and saved her life, she was grateful. Even more so when I defended her from those who believed her a spy for O’Malley.” The lines around his eyes tightened. “I took her affection as an extension of that gratitude.”
Pen arched her neck to stare at the canvas ceiling. The pain of what she was beginning to patch together gathered behind her eyes as a sudden headache. It blocked out even the hazy images from Tru’s mind. Arturi and Zhara loved each other. But doubt had kept them from trusting that love. Now they might never have the chance to make it right.
Not fair. Not by half.
She took Tru’s hand. He squeezed back.
But Arturi spoke first. “How is it possible that I knew you at all?”
“Funny, isn’t it? We still ask for answers, even now.”
“I have no magic. Not a speck. All these years, fighting to see the next day. Nothing. Except for you.”
Tru had gone quiet and still. But Pen did her best to focus on her friend. “I think it was me. All these years, it was my ability. Sending out images. Reading them in return. Like . . . a conduit? Even if the other person had no magic to speak of.”
“But why me?”
“Why not you? Look at what you’ve accomplished here! Surely that counts for something. Surely . . .”
She blinked. Her eyesight jumped to black, as if a light had been shut off in her brain. All she saw was color. Auras. Tru’s radiated beside her with the warm golden glow she had come to associate with safety. Beyond the tent’s confines, other magic swirled and blended with human chatter.
“I have to go outside,” she whispered.
“I don’t know if I can let you do that, Penny.” Arturi’s words held an apology.
But even as she understood his caution, she could not obey. She stood, knocking her knee against the table.
Tru gripped her hand. “Pen, talk to me.”
“I need to go.” She swallowed. “But I can’t see. Help me.”
“Can’t see? What’s going on?”
She didn’t wait for either man, only groped toward the exit flap. Arturi offered one more warning. “Stop now. Please. I don’t want to bring in the guards.”
“The guards who look identical to the ones who nearly killed us both?” Tru snarled.
“I only have your word for that.”
Arturi made a move to prevent her leaving, but Tru met him with a low growl in his throat. Literally caught between them, Pen lost her patience. She tickled inside her own mind and found a tiny dose of magic to match her impatience. Both men let go of her arms.
“Goddammit, Pen,” Tru muttered.
“Quiet now. Both of you. And listen.”
She straightened her shoulders. Most people who’d heard the rumors believed her to be divine. Pen knew better. But at that moment the whys and hows of her magic no longer mattered.
“Arturi Mäkinen, you are my friend.” Pen barely recognized her own voice. She should be panicking, not being able to see a damn thing. Yet no panic came. Only a certainty that made her feel as divine as her reputation. “But if you think a detention cell will keep me confined, you’re very much mistaken. And if you hurt this man in any way, we will stand on opposite sides forever. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Pen?” Tru’s voice was a light, no matter the darkness. “Tell me.”
“I can’t see,” she whispered. “Just auras. I need you. Guide me outside.”
BOOK: Daybreak
10.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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