Daybreak (27 page)
“If you can’t see, you need to sit your ass down. Rest. Get a witch doctor in here. Or hell, heal thyself.”
“Tru, he’s outside.”
“Who?”
“The man who tried to kill me on the boat. His aura. It’s bright and murky at the same time. You need to come with me, to see who it is.”
Arturi pushed past her, muttering something about guards, although she couldn’t tell if he intended them to seize her or the traitor. She grabbed his forearm. “Stealth, Finn. Quiet feet. Quiet words. He’ll be desperate if he’s found out.”
“Who saw you arrive?” he asked.
“Everyone we walked past. If he has friends, he’ll know of our presence. He’ll know that we’ve spoken.”
Tru put a hand on her waist. She remembered having seen Arturi do the same to Zhara, and she sighed quietly. “I think you have it wrong,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Your plan. You don’t want me to be one of them, right? Only acquiescing because of your reputation? Because I won’t.”
The celestial feeling was slipping away. Only Pen remained—a woman blinded by powers she couldn’t control. A clawing panic worked up her throat. “Tell me,” she managed.
“Better that whoever it is thinks we’ve been arrested.”
Arturi’s disbelief was obvious when he asked, “You would agree to be detained?”
“Believe me, I’d rather not.” An image popped into Pen’s mind, of Tru’s lion self raging against the idea of confinement. “But if we walk out there now, all on the same side, then we’ll have no cards to play.”
“But if the Orchid and her lover are detained, he can continue his plan,” Arturi finished.
She shivered at his assessment of her relationship with Tru. In so many ways, in her mind and heart, they were just Pen and Tru. That’s all she wanted to be at that moment, but they had so much to do. “You’re right. You both are.”
“Wouldn’t have expected you to say that with a smile on your face,” Tru said.
“I can admit when I’m wrong. I rather like it, in fact. Helps me trust the people I’m with.”
“Well, here we are,” Arturi said. “A matter of trust.”
Tru’s growling lion sounded crystal clear in her mind. “Seems like.”
“Then lead us away in chains.” Pen found Tru’s hand. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Although the dark was still just as terrifying, she needed to hold on to this odd, otherworldly sight. Just for a little longer. “But make sure to take us past the temple where Preacher delivers his sermons. That’s where the traitor is. Right now. He needs to see us being led away as captives. And we need to see who he is.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
The cage had actual bars.
Tru hadn’t expected that. In a camp like this one, he’d expected something a lot less horrifying. The cages weren’t big enough for a man to stand, so he sat on top of rusted metal that bit into his thighs. A faint scent of musk lingered. Perhaps they’d used the pens for animals.
Pen turned her face blindly, tracking the bastard with the aura that matched the man who’d intended to kill her. Maybe the same one who’d made Zhara disappear, too. That was where things got murky. Without proof, they couldn’t guarantee her intuition was correct. Whether Tru believed her or not wasn’t the point.
“You there?” she whispered.
She had to know the answer if he showed up on her radar, but he answered anyway. “Crowd’s getting big.”
Pretty much everyone on the island had come to see the show. They gathered just beyond the cages. Muttering. Judging. Arturi took charge of the proceedings as the settlers asked about how the traitors would be dealt with. He’d shocked the hell out of everyone by announcing Zhara’s disappearance, and things had been chaos ever since. The man’s charisma calmed them, but then someone pushed to the front of the crowd.
“Arturi.”
Tru recognized the voice and strove for a better look.
Jack. Fuck. That guy was captain of the second boat.
The same man who had come with Zhara to meet them, and whose gun had fired early during Pen’s rescue operation. How had he gotten there? And without the rescued prisoners? When Tru glanced at her, Pen was staring right at Jack.
The same man who had come with Zhara to meet them, and whose gun had fired early during Pen’s rescue operation. How had he gotten there? And without the rescued prisoners? When Tru glanced at her, Pen was staring right at Jack.
“That’s him,” Pen whispered, her eyes still vague. “I’m sure of it.”
“What do you mean? He’s human.”
“No, he has powers. I don’t know what kind—maybe teleportation? Something elemental? But his aura keeps getting brighter. I think—”
“Pen, it’s not an exact science. Just give it to me.”
She licked her bottom lip, which she’d worried to chapped redness. “I think some other entity has been disguising his magic, shielding his memories. But it’s leaving him now.”
“Infiltrate the island, then let him take the fall? Sounds like O’Malley.”
Pen nodded. “Now maybe I can get a sense of what happened to the other boat.”
As the crowd muttered its discontent, Arturi turned and lifted his brows. “What is it, Jack?”
“I know you err on the side of peace and forgiveness, but surely even you cannot forgive what these two have done.” Jack turned to the crowd with a showy gesture. “They came to you under false pretenses, betrayed your trust, murdered your loyal men, and gave your wife to her greatest enemy.”
A low rumble ran through the crowd. Tru’s heart clenched. He recognized the signs of rising bloodlust. Since the purge where he’d lost Danni and Laurel, he’d learned when to linger and when to run like hell. This
wasn’t
the time to be trapped in a cage. If Arturi handled this wrong, he’d get them both killed.
wasn’t
the time to be trapped in a cage. If Arturi handled this wrong, he’d get them both killed.
Arturi turned, his face cold as a glacier. “Oh? And how do you know?”
That quieted the throng for a few seconds as they mulled the question. A sick wave of restless tension snaked through the crowd. Tru noted the men with hands on their weapons, eyes ready for trouble. But he couldn’t tell where their allegiance lay.
Jack lifted his brows. “Excuse me?”
“No formal reports exist at this time,” Arturi said. “Yet you’ve made a specific set of allegations. Where did you obtain your information?”
“It’s simple deduction.” Jack shrugged. “Their ship didn’t return, nor did any of the people on it. Zhara is missing, and those two are caged. Why would you do that if they weren’t to blame?”
More noise from the mob, whispered speculation, hushed words that sounded like a nest of snakes.
“Is it true?” a latecomer asked. “Has Zhara been taken?”
Arturi never broke eye contact with Jack. “The first two statements are true, undoubtedly. But how did
you
manage to return? Why do you have no knowledge of the others? Or Zhara?”
you
manage to return? Why do you have no knowledge of the others? Or Zhara?”
“
I
have proven my loyalty. The strangers are to blame! We must execute them before that witch brings General O’Malley himself down on our heads.”
I
have proven my loyalty. The strangers are to blame! We must execute them before that witch brings General O’Malley himself down on our heads.”
A cheer rose up from the crowd. Soon enough, they’d gather sufficient enthusiasm for a stoning, a drowning, or a hanging. Jack seemed to have collected a fair number on his side, whether by bribes or persuasion. Arturi proved his position, however, by raising a hand for silence, and the response came immediately. Only the sound of breathing and the rustle of their clothes could be detected over the constant drone of nearby waves.
Arturi didn’t back down. “You never answered the question, Jack. How did you come here alone?”
Tru looked toward Pen, who appeared deep in concentration. “Anything? Any proof to get us out of this?”
“The boats separated in the storm, but that’s all he’s letting me see.”
“We’re nearly out of time. I don’t like this.”
“Me either,” came another voice.
Tru spun on his knees to find Adrian fiddling with the lock. It wasn’t a sophisticated mechanism, just impossible to reach from the inside. Within seconds, the boy freed him and opened the mechanism for Pen. She stumbled out into Tru’s arms. Unfortunately, that choice gave Jack an excuse to move against Arturi.
“The prisoners are escaping! Death to any who stand against us!”
A gun went off. A woman screamed. The first man fell. Copper stench filled the air, and children wailed.
Arturi shouted, “No! No fighting!”
But it was too late.
The scene melted into chaos as the mob divided into a small civil war. Few of the combatants carried guns, but plenty used fists and blades and blunt objects. Kids ran underfoot, tugging at pant legs and sobbing. Tru fought the urge to shift because that would only add to the mayhem, but the lion wanted to establish his place at the top of the hierarchy.
Instead keeping low, he asked Pen and Adrian, “You two okay?”
Before they could reply, a man lurched toward him. Tru took him with a fierce roundhouse to the jaw followed by a kick to the knee. The pop said his aim was dead on, and the man moaned as he fell. Tru took up a defensive position, fighting anybody who got too close. His stance warned that he’d beat the living fuck out of anyone who messed with Pen or Adrian.
It was no bluff.
Pen didn’t use her magic. Tru guessed that was because she feared a crucial lack of precision, that she’d wind up brain-damaging the wrong people. She needed more faith in her capabilities, but this wasn’t the time for a self-esteem lecture. Adrian took a couple of steps as if he wanted to fight, but Tru shook his head.
“They’ll come to their senses sooner or later. You don’t want to create bad blood for no reason, just because you got swept up.”
With a faint sigh, the kid nodded. Good sense. Plus, he was small. He needed a hefty growth spurt and a good couple of kilos before attempting any ass-kicking. Though Tru had been thin around the same age when Mason took him in, he’d been much taller.
Despite the bedlam, Arturi’s forces fought with more organization and more confidence. Most of that, Tru had to admit, came directly from the small man who shouted orders with precision and calm. He might not be a fighter himself, but he was a hell of a commander. For the first time, Tru saw what Pen admired in Arturi. This man could lead. He made people want to fight for him, to win for him. No matter what. He was the kind of guy who could make a real difference in the Changed world.
But only if we put down General O’Malley first.
It might be a suicide mission, but Tru believed in the goal. There was no guarantee this crew could turn the world into a better place, but it damn sure wouldn’t happen if they didn’t try. And trying was the first step.
After Arturi’s people restored order, the camp was a mess. Fifteen bodies, with Jack among that number. Twice that many had been wounded.
Arturi shuffled like a walking dead man among the injured, his eyes haunted with sick regret and what Tru could only imagine to be fear for his missing wife. It was impossible to know how many of those who fought for Jack were on his payroll and how many had just gotten caught up in his rhetoric. Or if O’Malley was behind the whole uprising.
Which put Arturi in a hell of a predicament.
Did he trust the survivors, or execute them? If he banished them, they could get a warning to O’Malley that his agent had died. Traitors might even know enough to alert him about plans to raid the fortress. For now, the prisoners who had certainly fought for Jack stood tied in a line. Twelve men, two women, and a young boy.
Tru didn’t envy Arturi his decision.
What a fucking mess.
What a fucking mess.
“Do we have a truth teller anywhere in our midst?” someone asked.
Although Tru had heard of that particular magic, he’d never met anyone who admitted to the talent. A walking lie detector only made people nervous.
But Arturi knew his people—his particular talent, which must’ve made this uprising especially difficult to endure. His forehead slick with sweat, he looked over sea of faces. “Will you come forth, my friend?”
Shine pushed to the front of the crowd. “Yes, I will,” she said softly.
“She’s a truth teller?” asked Reynard. Tru was glad to see the scarred Cajun among the faithful, though he wasn’t surprised, given how well the man had performed under Pen’s direction.
Even with a puffy lip and a black eye, Shine smiled as if she had enjoyed a good dustup. “Enough to let me figure out whether somebody’s bluffing me in matters of trade.”
Preacher joined them then. “And I’ll vouch for the girl’s word.”
“As will I,” said Arturi. Turning, he addressed the crowd. “Do all of you agree to stand by Shine’s ruling? Though Jack was right, in that I am a man of peace, I will
learn
how to make war. My enemies will have reason to fear me before the sun sets.”
learn
how to make war. My enemies will have reason to fear me before the sun sets.”
Quiet assent came in reply, a murmured “yes” from each of his people. A few leaned on one another, shaking and in tears. They had considered this place a sanctuary.
But death crosses the sea, the sand, and mountains just the same. There is nowhere it cannot reach.
But death crosses the sea, the sand, and mountains just the same. There is nowhere it cannot reach.
One by one, Arturi assessed each suspect. “Are you loyal to me?”
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