Keir (30 page)

Eventually, Quin took blankets from her bag, passed one to Keir, and wrapped herself in the other. She lay curled in a tight knot, head resting on her pack. Keir said nothing as he settled himself down for sleep at a distance from her.

1.       
   Chapter 12
   

The Emissary came to her in silence. At first, T’rill could only stare at the motionless figure in trepidation and horror, repelled by his lack of animation or expression. She sensed, rather than saw, eyes regarding her and wondered at the face that might lie beneath the mask, if he had one at all. Such thoughts disturbed her further and she walked around him restlessly, every step a symptom of her distress and discomfort.

“You need not fear me,” he whispered into the silence.

She hesitated in her nervous pacing, faced him, and gazed deep into the black hollows where there should have been eyes. “Can you read my mind?” she demanded.

“I read the emotions you radiate,” he replied. “Strong emotions are as clear and visible as speech to me. Even more so. Words can be deceptive, twisted to other meanings. Feelings cannot be warped in such a way.”

“Then how can I trust you? If you can read me so well, you can offer me any lie you think I will believe. You can play on my every fear, warp my perceptions with your words.”

He came closer. So close she could feel the coldness of his skin. “I have no need of lies, Your Highness. I could destroy this world. I could strip every thought and emotion, every secret from the depths of your mind if I wished to.”

Fear bled through her and she felt a tear trickle down the golden scales of her face. Should she be on her knees before him, like a cowed disciple worshiping a dark god? Would she never be free of him? To decide between loyalty to her friend or her people was a choice that carved her heart in two, and had only one answer. “What is it you want?” she whispered.

“Only Quin. Years ago, I traveled with her. I learned many of her secrets, until she betrayed and abandoned me. I would have my compensation in return.”

A whisper. “She isn’t here anymore.”

“I know.” He grasped her arm and she cried out, the iciness of his grip hurting more than the force he used to hold her, burning her skin.

“It was not my doing!” she protested, falling to her knees with the agony of it. “She was taken from the palace. We’re searching for her now.”

He released her abruptly and she cowered back from him. She rubbed her injured arm with shaking fingers and gazed up in fear at the silver face.

“I will wait a short time for you to find her,” he said, the voice surprisingly neutral. “It is the one power I lack. Her mind and presence are concealed from me. But if you fail to find her soon…”

“What will you do?” she whispered, terrified.

He leaned close to her, and the darkness of his eyes seemed to swallow her soul. “Your fears will come to pass.”

* * * *

Quin shivered in the darkness, unable to drift off into the sleep she craved. A dark premonition hovered in the void between dreams and reality.

She sat up at last, hugging herself as she waited for the dawn to come, unable to shake off the sense that something dark and dangerous lurked behind their strange imprisonment. If it were the Siah-dhu, after all this time, after her son had found a way to confine most of it and seal it away forever, then who was this emissary? The last agent of the Siah-dhu had been a bounty hunter who would not waste time with subterfuge and false diplomacy.

She glanced at Keir, his profile highlighted in silver, calm and serious even in sleep. Her breath caught. A handsome man, however hard he might find that to accept. He had a quiet strength to him, a gentleness, surprising after the life he had led. They had that in common. Both of them carried scars, inside and out.

Too many scars…

She sighed. Losing his mother and being outcast from Lyagnius was unfair. But then, so was losing her husband and daughter. Even after all these years, pain still clenched in her gut at the thought, mitigated only by the blessing of her son’s survival.

She leaned toward Keir, intending to tidy a stray curl from his face, then stopped herself, fingers poised over the sharp line of his cheekbone. The strength of her desire to touch him in that moment shocked her. What was she thinking? After all, he would resent the contact. He had made that clear. What right had she to ignore his wishes? What right had she to touch him?

Keir stirred and she shifted away. After a moment he came to join her, sitting close by her side.

She greeted him with a smile, as if her moment of insanity had never happened. “Good morning.”

“And to you,” he replied.

“Did you sleep well?”

Keir made a sound. “I had…strange dreams. A nightmare.”

“About what?”

“Shadows.”

Quin shivered, remembering her own premonition. “Sounds bad.”

“I have had worse.” He was silent for a long time. “I am afraid, Quin.”

“Of what?”

“Of what I can do. These powers I have.” He stared down at his hands as if expecting to see flickers of energy dance across his palms. “I hurt you, Quin. I cannot forget that.”

You wouldn’t be the first,
she thought, and just as swiftly quashed it. “You just need to learn control. It happens to us all.”

“But why is this happening to me now? I could never do these things before. All the times those powers could have helped me and I could not use them.”

“Anything could have sparked them. Traveling, your link to me, even your brush with death could have affected you. I just don’t know.” She considered her words. “You do have one advantage,” she offered.

“What?”

“You were born to these powers. I came to them late and by accident. Even though they’ve never been apparent to you, they’ve always been there.”

Keir’s morose expression revealed what little solace that was to him. “What if I cannot learn to control them?”

“You will,” Quin promised.

“You cannot know that. Not for certain. What happens if I do not?”

“Then, there are worse places than this to live. We can go anywhere.”

Hope shone in his voice. “We?”

“I won’t abandon you, Keir, not unless you tell me to go. I’ll stay with you, as long as you need me.”

“Even though it might take years for me to master them?”

She smiled back, glad to see his dejection lifting somewhat at her offer of companionship. He needed her. “Even years, if need be,” she promised. “When this is over, we can come back here, if you like. And I will stay, if you want me to.”

Keir nodded but did not meet her gaze. “I would like that.”

With the last shreds of the night lost in the glowing dawn, it seemed a good time to move on. Neither felt like eating, too impatient to be on their way and complete their quest. Although the rock face was almost vertical, it provided good handholds and both were strong climbers, driven by necessity.

The day was unkind to them. A clear sky and bright sun burned down on their unprotected backs, and soon sweat plastered hair and clothing uncomfortably to their skin. Quin showed Keir how to rub the powdery dirt into his hands to prevent his grip from slipping as they inched their way up, but their progress was still painfully slow.

By midmorning, tired, bleeding and dehydrated, they stood on the summit in the unforgiving tropical sun and stared out to sea. To the west, beneath a knot of white cumulus clouds, lay the land Quin had hoped for. Their island was a tiny comma of sand and trees at the end of a long chain of larger islands. Despite the sting of various cuts and bruises, and the grime and sweat smeared over her face, Quin couldn’t help grinning.

Even Keir raised a smile as he wiped sweat from his eyes with the backs of his hands, which left lines of dirt streaked across his face. “I hope you know something of building a raft,” he panted, tipping half a bottle of water over his head and shaking droplets from his dark hair.

Quin stole the bottle from him and did the same. She forced joviality into her tone. “Absolutely nothing. But we’ll try. It doesn’t look too far.”

“Do you think any of them are inhabited?”

“Should be. The majority of Metraxians live in modern cities, but the islanders keep to the traditional lifestyle.”

“If this is still Metraxi.”

“True. Standing here won’t answer that question though. Let’s see if we can get back down before nightfall. The bed’s a lot more comfortable than this mountain.”

Keir nodded, and then gestured for her to lead the way.

Hours later, twilight found them stumbling along the beach and heading for home. Too tired to eat or talk, they fell into bed together without hesitation, quickly slipping into a deep sleep of utter exhaustion.

* * * *

Keir drifted awake, listening to the distant song of the sea as it swept across the sands and the gentle breeze rustling the dry leaves of the roof. He opened his eyes and watched the wind stir the insect netting around their bed as dappled sunlight fell through the window and across the floor. Quin lay against him, her head resting on his shoulder and one hand on his bare stomach where his top had pulled askew. Her skin was smooth and cool against his and yet her touch seemed to burn.

He lay there for a moment, filled with a warm glow of contentment. A sudden longing to pull her closer, to take her into his arms and breathe in the scent of her hair seared through him. The need to do so consumed his thoughts until nothing else remained. His heart jolted into a frenzied rhythm that left him breathless and aching. What would Quin do if she woke now within his embrace? Would she be angry? Repelled? Or would she merely give him her crooked smile and shrug it off? He was not sure which reaction would be worse.

Tensing, he edged away, lifting her hand to lay it carefully on the bed before leaping to the floor. The abrupt movement shook her awake and he heard her grumble in drowsy protest. As if nothing untoward had happened, he kept his back to her as he straightened his clothing and slid his feet into his shoes.

“Are you all right?” she asked, yawning.

He nodded, pleased to note that a slight stiffness in his arms as he moved was the only symptom of yesterday’s exertions. Otherwise his above average healing skills had already dealt with the numerous cuts and grazes he had acquired on the mountain.

“And you?” he asked, turning to glance at her.

Quin sat up laboriously and stared down at her palms. “A bit worse for wear,” she said in apology. She flexed her shoulders and winced. “At least the sunscreen infusion Surei gave me is holding, or I’d be burned to a crisp too.”

Keir glanced at her hands–they were cut and blistered, the skin red. She looked pale and battered, as though she had been dragged over rocks and through brambles. “I do not think you are doing anything today,” he suggested. “You need some time to heal.”

“We don’t have time.”

“Quin, if you do not make the time to heal now, it could get worse.” He grinned when she made a face. “That is what happens when you are merely human,” he teased her, and held out his already healed hands.

Quin managed a wistful smile in return. “So you did inherit something useful, then?” she said, touching his palm fleetingly with a sigh. “What will you do?”

“Food first, work later,” he told her. “I shall not be long.”

Leaving Quin in bed, he went to work in the kitchen, slicing up some of the fruit he had harvested on their first day, along with the berries Quin had collected. Two bottles of fresh water and some dry, biscuit-like wafers from the stores joined them. As an afterthought, he retrieved the medical kit from its hiding place beneath the table as well.

Back in the bedroom, he rested their food on the chest at the end of the bed and opened the medical box. With Taler’s teachings fresh in his mind, he gently treated her injuries with antiseptic and gave her a dose of analgesic. Quin watched him in silence, sometimes biting her lip when he hurt her.

After he finished, they sat and ate together, discussing their requirements for the raft. Keir had found a large machete-style blade amongst the supplies, which he planned to test on the bamboo-like trees. Quin agreed that the air-filled chambers of the plants should at least provide good buoyancy.

“Will you be all right alone?” he asked, as he packed up to leave.

“I’ll be fine,” Quin assured him. “And I’ll call if I need you.”

“Rest,” he ordered.

She lay down obediently and closed her eyes.

Keir spent the morning felling the tallest, thickest bamboo he could find and dragging them down to the edge of the trees where they met the beach. The stiffness in his arms wore off as he worked and the time passed swiftly. After a lifetime spent struggling purely for survival, he found his current task challenging but satisfying as his pile of timber grew rapidly.

When he returned to the hut that evening, she proudly displayed her hands, still blistered but a healthier pink.

“I am glad to see you recovered,” Keir said as they ate.