North Star Guide Me Home (45 page)

The guards droned on, unaware that he wasn’t listening. What mattered was Sierra. They couldn’t fight her, and they knew it, so they would come up with another way to deal with her. Their only hope was to kill her, quickly, and in a way that wouldn’t give her a source of power.

She didn’t have long. He had to find her, he had to find out what they planned, and he had to do something about it, quickly.

Sierra shifted her weight on the rough wood.
Stupid, stupid girl.
Hadn’t she sworn that she’d never surrender again? Nothing good ever came of giving your enemies power over you, nothing. Only … only she couldn’t let them harm Cam. There was no bluff behind Pelloras’ words. They’d have put both his eyes out, and the Gods alone knew what they’d do next. If she let her focus slip, she could hear the screams … she’d heard them often enough, within these very walls. If she’d heard Cam’s voice crying out in that kind of pain …
No, I won’t let it happen. I won’t let him be scarred like the rest of us. No matter what I have to do.

No, she’d had to surrender. The alternative was unthinkable.
I have to find a way out of here.

The stones burned like ice. Her chest ached, and every breath sent a wave of pain through her ribs. It was a sick joke of the Gods who’d made her, she thought, that she could draw power so easily from others, but she could raise none whatsoever from her own nerves.

There came a noise beyond the door, and Sierra held her breath to listen. It was muffled, but she made out scuffling feet, and a dull kind of
click
. After a few moments it died away, to be replaced by the snap and crackle of fire spreading through dry wood and a brief rattle of steel. They’d lit a brazier. What did that mean? Were they settling in for a long wait?

That didn’t make sense. They had to kill her swiftly. But how? Poison was the traditional method of dealing with inconvenient mages, but the Wolf Clan had tried something similar once before, only to see their plans thwarted. The clan knew it was unwise to get too close to her, even with enchantments pressed into her skin.

What did that leave? When they strung her up like this, she’d half-expected a crossbow bolt between her ribs, but the moment they pulled the blindfold off she knew that was unlikely. If they were going to take that route, they’d never let her see it coming. And they couldn’t simply leave her to starve. It would take far too long, give her too much opportunity to squirm out of this trap.

She could smell smoke wafting through the darkness. Sierra snorted to clear her nose, and tossed her head, trying to stir the air around her, but the ropes gave her little room to move. The smoke stung her eyes, and she squeezed them closed.

It was then that she realised how the Akharians meant to kill her. It wasn’t a brazier they’d lit beyond the door — it was a smoker. They were turning her cell into a smokehouse and they’d strung her up to suffocate.

Sierra pulled on the ropes and bit her lip as they ground into her skin. How long would it take the chamber to fill? Even as a girl, she’d heard of families who had been snowed in, only to be found dead in their furs from trapped smoke.

Sierra hauled again on the ropes, hanging off them with all her weight. She had to cut them, then she could drop to the floor where the air was cleaner. It was such a simple thing, to slice through those bundled fibres. On any other day she could have done it without a thought.

The stones were cold and hard against her skin, half of them rousing a dull and bitter ache, others prickling like thorns under a shirt, heavy and hot. The straps of the harness bit into her skin, and were pulled so tight they cut into her flesh, rubbing her raw.

The smoke was growing thicker. Eyes stinging fiercely, Sierra ducked her head as low as the ropes would allow to draw a clean breath, but already the air felt thick and dry and she could feel the urge to cough building in her chest.
Spirit of Storm, defend me,
she thought. She didn’t have long.

Delphine wrapped her arms around herself and trembled as the others were marched from the room. The men standing over her were Battle-Mages. They underwent years of training to hold firm and calm through any disruption, but she was no warrior.

Once the others were gone, the guards pulled Mira away into the back room, while more herded Ardamon, Rhia and the others after her. A moment later, one of the Akharians emerged with a bundle in his arms.

Delphine went cold all over when she heard Illiana’s voice rise in a wail.

The Battle-Mage beckoned the other men standing over her. ‘Bring her.’

The guards seized her arms, and dragged her after the mage.

They took her down a few turns in the hall and out onto an exposed walkway. Delphine had had no idea such a thing was here, but at a glance she guessed it had a chimney running underneath the flagstones, for it was free from snow.

The man holding Illiana looked around appraisingly. ‘This’ll do,’ he said, and began to unwrap the blanket bundled around her daughter.

Delphine shoved forward. ‘No! Stop!’

The man ignored her, and the two guards wrenched her back. One of them kicked the backs of her legs, forcing her to her knees, while the man stripped Illiana out of the warm blankets and into the biting air. Then, he took hold of one helpless, flailing leg, and dangled her out over the void, while the babe shrieked in outrage.

‘Stop, please!’ She could hardly speak for the fear like a noose around her throat. ‘I’ll do whatever you want, don’t hurt her!’

The man ignored her as he took hold of Illiana’s little fur jacket and pulled it off. It took her knitted cap with it and both tiny garments were allowed to flutter away on the stiff breeze. ‘Give her the stone.’

One of the men took a hand away to reach into his coat. With no conscious thought, Delphine wrenched away from his slack grip. For a moment she broke free, and lunged forward, thinking of nothing but snatching back her screaming child, but the other guard yanked her back and struck her across the face, rattling her teeth in her skull.

By the time her senses returned, she was pinned once again, this time with her arms twisted painfully behind her, with Illiana still screeching in the Battle-Mage’s nonchalant hand.

One of the guards was holding a stone in front of her face. It seemed huge, the size of a hen’s egg. ‘Open up, bitch, and eat it. You might as well get used to it. It’s not the largest thing you’ll have to swallow over the next few months.’

‘Get on with it, traitor,’ the leader said. ‘My arm’s getting tired, and who knows how long the little one has out in this cold?’

It would have been easier if they’d let her take the stone herself, but they pinched her nose shut and forced her jaws open, shoving the stone past her lips.

It turned her lips numb at a touch, and sat in her mouth like something long-dead. It made the power within her shrivel like a green weed cast into flames, but Illiana was screaming. There was nothing she could do but force it down, even though the effort left her choking on the flagstones, while the enchantment sat in her stomach like a chunk of greasy lead.

When it was done, the Battle-Mage shoved Illiana back into her arms. Shaking, with tears freezing in her tangled hair, Delphine enfolded her within her jacket. Illiana felt as cold as ice, and wailed as though her heart was broken, while Delphine wept with her.

She was still blindly weeping as they marched her back through the rubble and ruin of the guardroom.

A handful of mages sat around the table where she and her kin had taken a meal just a short time before. As Delphine’s escort returned, one of them stood, and nodded towards her chamber. ‘The other one’s in there. We’ve checked it over. It’s all secure.’

‘Is the turncoat back yet?’

‘No, but I doubt they’ll have long to wait.’ He sneered at Delphine. ‘It’s no more than a traitor deserves, at any rate.’

They marched her to the door, which had been altered to be barred from the outside, and then shoved her in with so much force that Delphine stumbled and fell, setting the babe wailing afresh.

Someone was sobbing in the darkness. Out of reflex, Delphine tried to conjure a light, but retched again as the stone in her belly throbbed with biting cold. ‘Wh-who’s there?’

‘Delphine?’ It was Mira’s voice, cracked and raw.

‘Mira? What have they done to you?’

‘They took my son, Delphi,’ Mira sobbed. ‘They’ve taken Cade!’

The smoke was getting thicker. Sierra could no longer duck below it, and each breath drew the foul, suffocating stuff deeper into her lungs.

Her chest ached, and her head pounded, but she knew how to concentrate through pain. It was a lesson hard-won and she wouldn’t dare forget it.

She took small, shallow breaths in an attempt to keep from drawing the soot-laden air deep into her lungs, but it did little good. The urge to cough overpowered her, and each one sent a deep, tearing pain through her chest. Her head was spinning, just as it had when she was on the rack, on the cusp of fainting from the pain.

Sirri?
A voice rumbled in her head.
Sirri, can you hear me?

Issey? How …? The stones. I can’t reach you.

I’ll explain later. What’s going on, Sirri? Are you alright?

No. I can’t breathe. I can’t get out.
She wasn’t sure just how he’d reached her, and her head was pounding too hard to think clearly, but just knowing he was there gave her hope.

Alright,
he said.
Hold on. I’ll try to disarm the stones.

She found herself nodding, even though she knew he couldn’t see it.
Hurry,
she told him.
Please.

For what felt like an age, there was nothing they could do but huddle together in the dark as Illiana grew warm again and Mira wept.

The Akharians had wrenched the young prince from her arms and taken him away along with the wet nurse. The men had shoved Eshta into Mira’s arms, before locking her in here, in a kind of cruel joke. Mira clutched the babe tightly to her as she struggled to calm herself. ‘Where did they take you? What happened to the others?’

‘Out to one of the defender’s walkways. I didn’t see the others, but they’ll find a way out of this, we have to believe that.’

For a moment Mira was silent, but Delphine could hear her breath hitching in her chest. ‘Divide and conquer,’ Mira said at last. ‘It’s the oldest strategy there is. They’ve got the divide part right enough; now for the rest of it.’

‘We’ve got out of worse spots than this, surely.’

Mira gulped, while Eshta fussed and grizzled in her arms. ‘No, we haven’t. Not with our enemies so thick around us, not with our strengths and weaknesses studied so closely. And not with Rasten against us.’

Delphine shook her head. ‘No. He was lying to them. I can’t believe he’d turn on us. This way, at least
he’s
not a prisoner —’

‘Perhaps. By the Black Sun, Delphi, I hope you’re right.’

Illiana was still fussing, but Delphine hardened her heart to the sound as she felt her way around the chamber, searching for a weapon, anything. ‘You saw him earlier, Mira. He was part of a family, for the first time in a decade —’

‘It was in his best interests to win our trust. He said it himself, he’s a champion liar and charming when he wants to be.’

‘I don’t dispute that, but … after what I’ve seen of him, I can’t believe it. And say what you like about him, but he’s never been a coward.’

Mira drew a shaky breath. ‘Well, I’m afraid we’re soon going to find out.’

What if she was wrong? Delphine bit her lip. The cold, leaden weight of the stone made her belly ache and her blood turn to ice. There was nothing she could do. Rasten was a Blood-Mage and powerful enough that even Sierra would hesitate to face him.

Even as she shuffled through the dark, trying to orient herself, Delphine knew it was a futile effort. The cache she’d hidden away last night was utterly useless so long as the stone was trapped within her. As she hunted, however, she did find a pen box on a shelf. She’d already tried her fingers with no luck, but perhaps tickling her throat with a feather would do the trick … Presuming the cursed stone didn’t choke her as it had almost done on the way down.

The sound of the bar being lifted startled her, and she dropped the box. As the door opened, light blazed in from the room beyond. Then, it was gone again as the door slammed shut and the bar
thumped
into place once again.

Delphine could feel his presence in the room, even before he conjured up a ball of flame. He looked over them both, eyes dark and cold. ‘Put the baby down,’ he ordered Delphine, before casting his eyes to Mira. In the sudden light, Delphine could see that half of Mira’s face was swollen and already beginning to bruise. She hadn’t given up her son without a fight. ‘You too,’ Rasten commanded her. ‘Put them out of the way, I don’t want to see them hurt.’

The tone of his voice made Delphine shiver. She’d never been particularly disposed to do as she was told, but there was something of the rattle of chains in his voice. He was a man that few dared disobey.

She took Ilya to the bedchamber, where the baby’s basket still lay beside her bed. Delphine set the girl down, and went back for Eshta. Mira was standing now, her chin lifted defiantly as she held Rasten’s gaze, but she made no protest when Delphine took Eshta from her arms.

‘Come back here,’ Rasten said, and when Delphine returned to the doorway he seized her by the shoulder and shoved her next to Mira. ‘Now, scream.’

Delphine could do nothing but stare at him. Back in her younger days, she’d ventured to the games in Akhara, but the way girls screamed with excitement at the races and the fighters baffled her. She’d never been able to determine what purpose it served.

When neither moved, Rasten slammed his palm against the wall with a snarl. ‘I said, scream! By the Black Sun herself, they think I’m in here raping you. Make some cursed noise, or else I’ll —’

Mira threw back her head and shrieked.

‘Again!’ Rasten growled, and when she cried out a second time, he shoved her back against the wall. ‘Louder!’ He took hold of her arms, digging his fingers into the muscles until she shrieked again with genuine pain, a sound that set the babies in the next room wailing.