Siren's Fury (5 page)

“Eogan’s soul, his
essence
, is still intact. Draewulf’s not taken it.”

I shake my head. That’s not possible. Maybe her Luminescent powers don’t work as well as she thinks they do—Eogan once told me they’re not always clear. Maybe her sight is hazy. “Draewulf indicated he took him over at the Keep a week ago, and I saw the bruising and the incision even then. I just didn’t connect it.”

“I’m not debating that he invaded his physical form. I’m just telling you what I see. And what I see are two whole men sharing the same shell. Eogan just can’t surface.”

Hope, joy, heartbursts tear at me. Eogan’s still whole? Is that actually possible? I flip around and watch the back of him stride through the crowd toward the balcony door as the party guests press us toward the railing and stairs. My breath is thin. “Rasha, how good is your sight?”

“There’s a lot of interference in here, but I’m still better than most Luminescents twice my eighteen years.”

“Have you ever heard of anyone surviving a shifting before?”

“Never.”

I slip my hand in hers and pull her to follow him. “But somehow
he
did and we need to figure out why.”

“I’m working on that, but where are we going?” she says a tad too loud, which garners interest from a few people.

I smile for their benefit and keep walking, pointing a discreet hand toward Eogan. “Just following him,” I say in a way I hope makes me sound lovesick and not like a desperate murderer.

“To do what exactly?”

“To keep an eye on him. To figure something out. I don’t know—can’t you tell what I’m planning?”

“Maybe if your ideas weren’t fluctuating all over the place like a band of hyper ferret-cats. Because honestly? I’m not a magician.” Except the way her reddish gaze is suddenly narrowing in on me, we both know she might as well be.

I ignore the blossoming frown and duck us around one of those councilmen with the giant airship hats. “Can you see what’s keeping him alive?”

She jerks me to a halt. Her eerie stare is boring holes straight
into me. “Your ability . . .” She actually sounds incredulous. “I was so focused on . . . I didn’t . . .” Abruptly, she takes a step backward and nearly trips as she whispers, “He took it.”

My chest, my veins, my nerves ache. I turn and keep walking after Eogan. “He used Eogan’s block to cut it out.”

“And you’re unable to get it back,” she says in her airy voice, as the full picture apparently dawns in whatever way it does for Luminescents. She jumps to catch up. “When?”

“After you left my room earlier.” I weave us around a servant with two drink trays, and then we’re at the door Eogan and his men have just left through. I see them ahead down the candlelit hall, rounding a corner. “Just tell me how much time he has.
Is
there any chance of him surviving long enough until Draewulf moves on to take another host?”

“I don’t know. Up until now no one thought it possible to survive
this
long. It’s something to do with his blocking ability.”

“What about separating Eogan from Draewulf? I mean, if there was a way . . .”

“It’s never been done. The host would die.”

We round the corner and spot them again up ahead. “But hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically? There are always possibilities.”

I may only have known her a matter of days, but even I can tell she doesn’t believe it. I ask anyway. “Do you think you could see clear enough to
know
?”

Another two bends in the hall, and we take them in time to see Eogan unlocking a room. There’s a brisk exchange between him and his men while the Faelen guards look on before he enters and his door clicks shut. The Bron guards position themselves on each side of it like huge onyx statues, and the Faelen soldiers settle around them.

Rasha looks at me sideways. “I’m not sure. Their intentions are all over the place. Between Eogan and Draewulf and the block—it’s like the positive and negative are morphed. Hazy. Same as when someone’s not yet decided on a course of action.” A pause and then she perks up. “Although . . . it doesn’t
appear
that either of them have harmful objectives before he leaves tomorrow. On that they seem aligned.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let it out all in one tremble just as one of the guards turns our way. Rasha and I pull back behind the corner and study each other. Her eyes dim to their normal dark brown coloring, her ability receding with the glow.

“Are you telling me he’s not going to destroy the court or King Sedric tonight?”

She shakes her head. “Not from what I can determine.”

“Can you promise that?”

“Nearly 95 percent.”

I bite my lip. “I need time,” I finally whisper. “A couple of hours—maybe a day or two even—to watch for any change. To see if Draewulf absorbs more of Eogan or to research whether it’s possible he could survive a shift. After that, we’ll do . . . whatever needs to be done.”

“I’m all for letting Eogan live a bit longer, and
you
for that matter, which is why I stopped you from getting stabby back there. But a couple of
days
?” Her voice lilts higher than normal. “You’re holding the fate of five kingdoms in your hands. This should be taken to King Sedric.”

“Right. So he can kill him.”

“Or he’ll lock him up until they figure something out.”

I tilt my head and stare at her. Does she actually believe that?

She peers away.

“He’ll kill him and you know it,” I say. “Which will only restart the war, and Bron will come down harder on our heads. Except this time . . .”

She bites her lip.

This time my abilities are gone and I won’t be able to stop them.

“I’ll stay in this spot until he boards the airship,” I whisper. “After that . . .”

Her eyes flash toward me and widen with their reddish hue for a half second. “After that?” she says in a tone that says she’s just seen exactly what
after that
is going to entail. She snorts. “Are you insane? Bron isn’t going to welcome into their kingdom the person who destroyed their armada. You’re just as likely to get
yourself
killed.”

“Which is why I’ll make sure I’m not seen.”

She withers me a glare. “This is a bad idea. If they catch you sneaking aboard their king’s airship, they
will
kill you. And on top of that, perhaps killing Eogan right now might restart the war, Nym, but so will having King Sedric think Eogan stole you.”

“I’ll leave a note. If anything, he’ll blame my lovesick heart and the rumors of elopement he’s heard. In the meantime . . .” I glance around the corner at the guards again. “If he moves an inch I promise you I
will
have my knife at his back.”

“A
knife
? If he moves, you should be telling King Sedric and screaming it to every Hidden Lands kingdom! Think about how easily he stole your ability, Nym.”

“I wouldn’t say
easily
. And I
will
handle him if—when—I have to.”

She purses her lips together.

“You said his intentions weren’t harmful here, and it’s not like he can do much damage while on that airship.”

She snorts.

“We’ll be there to stop him.”

“I said they didn’t
appear
to be harmful here. And that speaks nothing as to once he’s in Bron, nor does it mean I’m agreeing to this.” She rubs her arm. Then sighs. “Look, I have to alert my own guards and send word to my queen mum. I also have to find out what time we’re leaving because, oh hulls, I need my wardrobe packed!” Her face takes on a look of panic as she glances down at her evening party dress. She turns to me. “Will you be okay until I return?”

I nod.
Yes.

Maybe.

Her gaze falls to my bandaged hands before lifting to narrow in on my eyes. After a moment, my internal mess of emotion sealed beneath the numb suddenly shifts and I look away.
Blast her.

She tips her head once. Because abruptly we both know that probably nothing about me is okay. Because in the course of one daft night, I’ve lost both my ability and the only man who ever made me feel safe enough to love.

I peek around the bend at the two Bron soldiers pacing in front of Eogan’s door. Do they know it’s not their king inhabiting his body? I grit my teeth—
Let’s just do this
—and turn back and shrug because, even though I’m thinking it, my words won’t work.

She sighs. And plants a kiss on my cheek. “Right. I’ll hurry.
Forty
minutes. And my guards will be here sooner. I’m still not saying I’ll comply with your request. I’m just speaking with my men. If Draewulf moves before then, yell for King Sedric
please
.”

Her soft footsteps clip down the hall in the direction of Eogan’s
room. I hear her voice offer a “Good evening, handsomes” to the guards before her steps fade down the corridor. I lean against the wall to ignore everything except figuring out how to get aboard that ship.

CHAPTER 5

A
QUARTER HOUR LATER THE SOUND OF HEAVY footsteps draws my attention to the hallway on my right where three of Rasha’s guards are striding toward me. I tighten the grip on my knives tucked between the folds of my dress and stay planted against the inverted corner that simultaneously allows me to face the approaching guards and the corridor where the group of soldiers are still hovering around Eogan’s shut door. The surly glares the Bron unit has been shooting my way make it clear my presence is considered not only an insult but a threat.

“Her Highness will be along shortly,” the middle Cashlin says quietly when they near me. Reaching into the folds of his red doublet, he pulls out parchment and an ink quill with a tiny pot attached at the tip. “From her.”

My hands are steady as I set down my blades and scribble awkwardly with my right hand, since my gimpy one can no longer write, on the parchment as fast as possible.

When finished, I sign my name at the bottom and hand the ink back.

The three of them settle in place a few feet away, heightening
the offense and interest of the Bron and Faelen soldiers. They eye us and almost in unison slip their hands to their sword hilts.

“Perhaps the little Elemental is looking for a duel,” one of the Bron guards says, prompting the others to snicker.

“As long as it’s to the death,” another replies.

A Faelen soldier steps between them and my line of sight. “I’ll caution you both to watch your words.” He waits a moment, then resumes his previous position, and the look the first Bron guard sends me says it’s only the Faelen and Cashlin men’s presence that is keeping him from descending on me.

I finger my knives and stare at them as the seconds tick by.

Those seconds slip into minutes. Which slide into hours.

Two hours pass in the uncomfortable, tension-filled hallway, and it has gone from absolute silence to the occasional weary shuffle of the guards’ leather or metal. The sudden
clip-clip-clipping
of Rasha’s shoes and the tromping of two guards with her bring me to a standing position.

“My apologies,” she whispers hurriedly, glancing between me and her soldiers. “Sending an immediacy letter to my mum via the High Court runners proved more difficult than expected.” She peers down the other corridor to Eogan’s room. “Has anything happened?”

I shake my head and catch an eyeful from one of her men, whose frown I gather is disapproving the fact I’ve not curtsied before Her Cashlin Highness.

“All has been silent, Princess,” he says.

“When’s the airship scheduled to leave?” I ask.

Rasha turns to me. “In two hours. But—”

A click down the hall echoes loud, and in unison we both freeze.

Eogan’s door opens and his guards step back as a swath of Bron soldiers emerge, and in the middle of them,
him
.

“But Eogan is boarding now,” Rasha says.

A burst of sour slides up my throat. I slip one of my blades into my ankle sheath before handing her the letter for King Sedric and, keeping the other blade tucked into my dress skirt, nod. “Then let’s go.”

Before I can move she grabs my arm and lowers her voice. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

I narrow my gaze and glance down the hall toward Draewulf. And bite back the remark that I don’t care what she thinks right now. We have to go.

She sighs. “But seeing that you’re obviously set on it, first make me a promise.”

I raise a brow.

“I’ve decided to agree with you regarding the politics of exposing Draewulf on Faelen soil. And I believe that if we can make it to Bron, it’d be wiser to do it there, in front of his council, especially considering he’s just offed their King Odion. However . . .” She stops and waits until I look at her. “You have to promise me that you won’t get caught, and the moment anything goes wrong, you won’t even hesitate to do what needs to be done.”

Is that it?
I give her a sharp nod.
Fine.

“
Nor
will you stop me if I decide to do so.” She waits for me to nod again before slipping off the cloak she’s wearing. “I’ve figured out where to hide you on the ship, but we need to disguise you as my maid-in-waiting to—”

“That won’t work. They’ll investigate and as soon as they see my hair, they’ll recognize me.”

She curls her lips wryly at me. “Which is why I still think this is a terrible idea. Perhaps—”

“I’m going,” I interrupt, watching Eogan and his entourage disappear from the far end of the hallway. “And I have a better idea.”

Rasha raises a brow before she nods and looks to her men. “You two guards follow Eogan. You other three come with us.”

We’ve gone down three corridors when I tell her men, “It’d be best if you stay here.”

Rasha tips her chin at them just as we reach the door we’re to go through. I shove it open when a voice rings out, “May I help you, miss?”

Litches.

I stall. Turn.
Tannin.

He looks at Rasha’s men, at her, and then at the door I’m holding ajar.

“I was heading up to grab a cloak,” I say.

His smile falters. He stares at the gilded wood behind my head as if he can see around it and is quite aware that this direction leads nowhere near our rooms, let alone my wardrobe. “Would you like me to get it for you, miss? Afterward I’d be glad to escort you to King Sedric. I believe the waltz is about to be played.”