Rift (44 page)

“How has her mind become so twisted?” Kael asked suddenly. “How could we have been so deceived?”

“It is indeed troubling.” Father Michael bowed his head. “Perhaps even more troubling that she so easily gains the support of our fellows.”

Mercer’s gaze swept over their group, his eyes widening. “Are you saying everyone within the keep, save we few, have thrown their support behind Eira?”

“No,” Lora answered him. “The clerics and servants know nothing of this. Only when I’d found Sawyer and heard his tale did I learn what was happening.”

“Eira has laid her case before the Circle and the Guard, but not the whole of Tearmunn,” Thomas said. “For that is where she believes the power of Conatus exists. The clerics will be the next to gain her attention.”

“Even so.” Fitch coughed, trying to cover the trembling in his voice. “Of twenty-five knights, we alone would resist?”

“So it would seem,” Lukasz said wearily. “Eira was once the commander of the Guard. There are still many loyal to her. Before tonight I would have counted myself among that number.”

Ember closed her eyes. Alistair’s face haunted her. Unbidden, his words echoed in her mind once more.
I want you to understand how much I trust her.

“B-but the Circle?” Fitch stammered. “All of them as well?”

“Not myself, obviously.” Thomas offered him a weak smile. “Cian and Ewan are with us too.”

“Then where are they?” Fitch asked.

“Cian stayed with her sister,” Lukasz told him. “To keep her occupied while we met and decided upon a course of action. Ewan keeps watch for us. If we were to be discovered, this would end before it begins.”

Mercer asked, “Before what begins?”

The commander and Thomas exchanged a troubled glance.

“Whoever this Lord Mar is, we must find a way to expel him from our world,” Lukasz said. “Even if it means searching the ends of the earth for the means by which he can be defeated.”

The gathering became very still as the implications of Lukasz’s words sank in.

Barrow spoke first. “When do we leave?”

“Immediately,” Lukasz answered. “As soon as the horses are saddled.”

“You want us to abandon Tearmunn now?” Fitch shook his head. “Where will we go?”

Thomas frowned at him. “There is no other choice. If you delay, you risk revealing yourselves to Eira or any of her allies.”

“As to where we’ll go,” Lukasz said, “we may have few allies within Tearmunn, but Conatus lives beyond these walls. We’ll seek passage to Krak des Chevaliers.”

“Syria? You would put us in the hands of the Mamluks?” Fitch gaped at the commander. “Their sultan, Faraj, is spoken of as a cruel man.”

Father Michael said, “The Mamluks have been allies of Conatus no matter who rules them, and we will be offered refuge at Krak des Chevaliers.”

“How can you be sure?” Fitch asked.

Lukasz’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you to be such a coward, Fitch.”

Fitch dropped his gaze, shamefaced.

“Peace, friends,” Father Michael said gently. “These desperate times weaken our faith and make our hearts quail. Let us lift each other up.”

“Father Michael is right,” Thomas told them. “We can’t afford to quarrel among ourselves. Fitch, the reason Krak des Chevaliers offers sanctuary is that it will take longer for Eira to affect such a keep that is within Conatus but outside Christendom. From what we’ve gathered, she’s relying on the channels available to Abbot Crichton. That means she’ll focus on the Holy Roman Empire and a few points east before broaching the lands of the Ottomans and Mamluks. At least we hope so.”

“And hope is all we have,” Lukasz finished.

“I am no coward,” Fitch said, his voice low. “But surely we needn’t take a ship. That voyage will cost us weeks. Have Hamish weave a door to Krak des Chevaliers that we might travel there with all the speed we command.”

Lora sighed. “You can’t risk bringing Hamish into this mess. We don’t know where his allegiance will fall. If he proves sympathetic to Eira, he’ll give away your hiding place.”

“You came here this night of your own free will,” Father Michael told them. “And you must now choose your path. Remain here to submit, or stay hidden, or else flee from these walls until we find a way to resist the rising dark.”

Mercer asked the priest, “What do you mean hidden?”

“Cian, Thomas, Ewan, and I will stay in Tearmunn,” Father Michael said. “You must have a way to know what happens here.”

“That’s a great risk.” Barrow frowned. “What if you’re discovered?”

“The cost would be greater if we left with you,” Thomas told him. “If Cian and I went missing, Eira would know her opposition extends beyond a handful of the Guard and she will become much more dangerous. The more confident she is, the more likely we’ll be able to exploit her pride.”

Father Michael nodded. “And I must remain here and attempt to uncover the origins of this creature who calls himself Bosque Mar. Without knowledge we cannot send him whence he came.”

“Take Sawyer with you.” Lora gently pushed the woodcutter toward Kael. “He can’t be found here. Hide him in a town along the way if you must, but make sure he’s beyond Eira’s reach.”

“Of course,” Kael said.

Lukasz’s command came in a hushed tone. “Those who choose to leave, ready your horses. We’ll take our leave of the stable and leave two at a time by the way of the shepherd’s door at the rear of the keep. Father Michael, Thomas, and Lora will keep watch, alerting us if any of our pairs garner unwanted attention.”

Wordlessly the circle broke up, leaving in a rush, others stumbling away as if in a drunken stupor.

“Go to Caber now,” Barrow said quietly. “There’s little time.”

Ember nodded, but Barrow was already walking away, leaving her to find her own way to her horse. After gathering her tack and empty packs to tie onto the saddle, Ember went to Caber’s stall. Though the saddlebags were empty, Ember hoped that she might find the means to fill them along their journey. She kept her mind blank, focused only on readying Caber. Too much had happened in a small space of hours. Events that threatened to break her heart and shatter her mind. She couldn’t think about Sorcha. Or Alistair. Any crack in her emotional wall and she would collapse into a rubble of grief. There was no time to let that happen.

Caber greeted her with a hearty snort. His attitude contrasted to her brittle spirit. A midnight ride presented the stallion with a much welcome adventure as opposed to the frightening flight that it posed to Ember. She saddled and bridled Caber quickly, despite his attempts to frolic in the confines of the stall. The horse’s eagerness to be out of the stables helped to lighten Ember’s mood; at least she’d have one companion in good spirits.

“Ember.” Barrow stood on the other side of the stall door. In the darkness Toshach was a massive shadow behind the knight. Caber whinnied a greeting to the other stallion.

“Hush.” Ember clicked her tongue at Caber as she stepped out of the stall. “Don’t you know we’re embarking on a clandestine journey?”

Caber snorted, shaking his mane.

She turned back to Barrow. “Are you leaving?”

“Soon,” he told her. “But not without you. We should lead the horses to the back gate.”

“We’re riding together?”

Barrow quietly said, “Unless you’d prefer another’s company.”

“No,” she whispered. “Of course not.”

Ember reached her hand toward him. He took her fingers and lifted them to his lips. The gentle touch sent a quivering through her limbs. Feeling her throat close, Ember pulled free of his light grasp. She couldn’t let emotions wash over her, even those she would welcome. It was too dangerous.

Barrow led Toshach forward, giving Ember room to bring Caber out of his stall. She brought the stallion alongside the other horse, and they walked together from the stables. Through the quiet night the two knights and their mounts passed the training field and the rear side of the barracks and the manor.

Lora was waiting by the shepherd’s door.

“Lukasz and Kael are away,” she whispered, opening the door for them. “Fitch and Mercer will follow you soon. Godspeed.”

Ember took Caber through first and then Barrow went with Toshach. Lora closed the door, leaving them between the outer wall of Tearmunn and the cold wind that swept through the glen. They stood quietly, neither moving to mount the horses.

When Ember sighed into the night wind, Barrow reached out and touched her face. The warmth of his hand on her cheek drew out her fear.

“What will happen to us?”

He dropped Toshach’s reins and pulled her close. “I don’t know. None of us do.”

“Would you think poorly of me if I confessed that I’ve never been so frightened as I am now?” she whispered.

“Would you think ill of me for offering the same confession?”

A sound, part laugh, part sob, welled from her chest.

Barrow kissed Ember’s forehead, then leaned down and brought his mouth to hers. She grasped his shirt, pressing her body into his, letting his warmth briefly drive away the wind’s frigid breath.

When they parted, he said, “The road ahead is unknown to all. I cannot offer you wisdom or guidance. Only the promise that I will never leave you.”

Ember pulled his face to hers, kissing him again before she said, “Your strength gives me courage.”

He smiled gently. “No, Ember, that is all your strength and none of mine.” She balked, but he kissed her, murmuring against her lips, “And that is why I love you.”

Still wearing a smile, but one that now hinted of mischief, Barrow left her speechless as he swung into the saddle.

“We must away, Lady Morrow.”

Though her limbs had been rendered unsteady by his words, Ember lifted the reins over Caber’s head and climbed into the saddle.

They set off at a dead run, and their horses were soon lathered from the pace. Two riders flying over the earth as if trying to escape the very night.

Ember turned to look over her shoulder, watching as Tearmunn shrank with distance. Looking away with a twinge of regret, she urged Caber forward and set her mind to the east, to a world unknown and a future unwritten.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am deeply grateful to the many people who worked tirelessly to bring
Rift
to life. The intuition and kindness of my agents, Richard Pine, Charlie Olsen, and Lyndsey Blessing, never ceases to amaze me. My publisher, Michael Green, renews my spirit with his enthusiasm and faith in the worlds I want to build. The incredible team at Penguin Young Readers makes all aspects of a book’s life enjoyable, and I’m beyond fortunate to have so much talent and energy surrounding me.

Rift
delves into the human past, and while it is a work of fiction, my colleagues and students at Macalester College always remind me that history is full of magic. My writing benefits from the support of amazing readers and friends: Lisa Desrochers, Kiersten White, Casey Jarrin, Heather Brewer, and David Levithan. I’d also like to thank the readers, librarians, and booksellers who welcome my characters, and me, into their lives with such graciousness. My family continues to remind me that living a dream is not only possible, but often necessary. And for my editor, Jill Santopolo, to whom this book is dedicated: thank you for giving me courage on the page and on a trapeze platform.

Turn the page for sneak peek at

RISE

the sequel to RIFT

ALISTAIR COULD REMEMBER
screaming only once before, at least since he’d become a man. The shrill cry had forced its way from his throat when he’d been pinned to the floor of the wine cellar. Three hobgoblins held him down, cackling, while a fourth stretched its long, clawed fingers toward his eyeball. That scream had been a brittle, strangling yowl of horror.

The sound escaping his lips now was brighter than shattering glass, jagged shards of pain and loss. Ember was gone.

Less than an hour earlier, restless after the events of the day—and of the night—Alistair had gazed at the stone ceiling in his cell. His pallet was unsympathetic to his pains, offering no ease or comfort to lull him into slumber. With eyes open, Alistair didn’t see the rough-cut gray blocks above him. Neither did he see darkness when he closed his eyes.

An image had burned itself upon his vision. Skin revealed as linen slipped from Ember’s slender but strong shoulders. Weeks with Conatus had chiseled her arms, making them hard as a man’s, but Alistair remembered the softness he’d glimpsed. Her hair was fire, flames licking the snow of her naked body, its sudden curves appearing as her garment fell.

It was a scene stolen from his very dreams. Ember baring herself to him. Wanting him. Alistair would have given his soul to relive the moment. And change the way it had ended.

No matter how often he turned in bed or summoned other thoughts—for there was much to think on: Lady Eira’s plans had been set in motion and everything was about to change in Tearmunn—he failed. Ember’s bare skin, captured in the glow of candlelight, held him hostage.

Unable to bear the torment another minute, Alistair rose from bed. He hadn’t bothered to change from his uniform into a sleep shirt. With Conatus reeling from Sorcha’s death and Eira taking control of both the Circle and the Guard, the night portended chaos. Alistair had even kept his sword belted to his waist. Should a fight arise, he would be ready to assure Lady Eira’s successful ascension to sole ruler of their order.