The Midnight Sea (The Fourth Element #1) (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

O
f course, he did come, although it was almost too late. Darius had been swept far down the mountain and had to climb back up. He couldn’t melt the snow. That would require working with heat. But he knew exactly where I was, and he could dig.

The first thing he found was my right hand. The one with the cuff. I remember a terrible pain, not my own but his, as his skin came into contact with it. But he didn’t let go. Sunlight blinded my eyes, and then they filled with a deep blue that I thought was sky but turned out to be his tunic.

I distantly heard him saying my name. Pulling me out and into his arms. Tearing my soaked coat off and sliding his right hand under my tunic, to the small of my back, so he could pour his own warmth into me. I shook like a leaf in a windstorm, partly from the agony of blood returning to frozen limbs, but also from the sensation of his embrace. Never had we touched this way, pressed together head to toe with just a thin layer of fabric between, and it was like the night I took his hand but magnified a thousand times. I saw myself through his eyes, felt my own body through his hands. That was the nature of our bond.

It shattered my walls in an instant. There was nothing in the world but the raw intensity of that strange echo chamber, and the knowledge that he was as lost in it as I was.

I don’t know how long we stood there, clinging to each other, his breath warm in my ear. It could have been one minute, or twenty. But eventually the others found us. Ilyas came first. He must have been running, because he was panting hard when his hands found my shoulders and wrenched us apart.

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there. But his eyes blazed with a kind of sick fury. I had never seen him like this before. It scared me. His hand moved toward the hilt of his sword and I’m not sure what would have happened next if Tommas hadn’t appeared with Tijah and Myrri.

“Thank the Holy Father,” Tommas said. “We thought you were gone.”

And just like that, Ilyas took a ragged breath and got ahold of himself. I saw the force of will it required, but our captain was nothing if not disciplined.

“The horses are below,” he said flatly, turning away. “Tommas moved quickly and plucked them up with air.”

I felt Darius slam his walls back into place. He stepped away from me. Neither of us could bear to look at each other. I still felt his hand on me and ducked my head to hide the heat in my cheeks.

“One of the daēvas must have brought the avalanche down on us,” Darius said. “It’s my fault. I sensed something, but it was too late. Whatever it was, they’re gone now.”

“Are you all right?” Tijah asked me. “Can you ride?”

I nodded, not trusting my own voice.

“Of course you can, nomad girl.” She grinned. “I suppose you’re used to these sorts of things. What did Darius call it?”

“An avalanche,” I said.

“How lovely. And your people actually live here?”

I forced a smile.

“At home, I thought a scorpion in my slipper was a bad day.” Tijah shook her braids in wonder. “Of course, we do have sandstorms. Those can be very annoying…”

She chattered on as we found our horses. Darius was careful not to touch me when he mounted, for which I was grateful. I knew he had just been trying to save my life, but I felt as though my world had shifted on its axis, exposing feelings I had struggled to ignore since I’d come to know him in those days we’d spent together in the daēva barracks. Beneath his cool exterior, Darius was very funny, in a bleak sort of way. A complex man, who could be indifferent, even harsh, one moment and kind the next. But unlike Ilyas, whose mood swings seemed beyond his control, Darius struck me as deliberate. He had long practice in keeping others at arm’s length.

And yet when he had touched me, what I’d felt from him was far from indifference.

Our bond was stronger than most—I’d realized that at the village of Ash Shiyda when his power left me gasping on the floor. It was not the same for Tijah, nor for Ilyas. I knew because I’d asked them.

I wondered if they had given us defective cuffs, ones that somehow magnified the bond and made this whole impossible situation worse. The look on Ilyas’s face when he saw us together had been nothing short of murderous. I felt his eyes on us now. Weighing, measuring. It was the law of the land that humans and daēvas could never lay together. The magus said the products of such forbidden unions were immediately killed as Druj spawn, and the parents given to the Numerators.

Well, we had hardly crossed
that
particular line, but Holy Father, part of me wanted to, which came as a shock. I had never been so fiercely attracted to someone, and so afraid of where that attraction could lead. Besides which, it seemed wrong somehow. The daēvas were slaves in all but name, and I was one of the masters.

So I stuffed Darius back into his box and resolved to keep him there. I couldn’t escape him, but I could endure the exquisite torture of our bond if it kept him safe. There was no other choice, not for either of us. I had sacrificed everything to become a Water Dog. I’d abandoned my clan, foregone any chance to marry and have children. I had sworn to honor my sister by hunting her killers.

Ilyas could watch us all he wanted, but there was nothing to see and there never would be.

Just two Water Dogs, carrying out the King’s justice.

The mountains dwindled behind us as we rode out onto the Great Salt Plain.

My clan called it the Dasht-e Kavir. In the springtime, when the earth became saturated with runoff from the snowmelt, we grazed our herds at the edges. After the seasonal marshes dried up, they left a residue of salt behind, and the sun baked the plain into fractured plates that looked like the scales of a lizard.

The temperatures in summer could kill a horse and rider within hours. Luckily for us, it was winter, so the day was remarkably pleasant. Soon we shed our quilted coats and were basking in the warmth, despite Ilyas’s relentless pace.

Tijah seemed recovered from the brutal crossing of the Khusk range. She hadn’t reacted at all when she saw me and Darius together, but Tijah had different views about daēvas, I knew—views that would be branded heresy if she had spoken them aloud.

Once we had come to trust each other, she told me that in Al Miraj, daēvas are not considered by most people to be inherently evil. Not Druj. They were still leashed because they were too powerful to be given free rein and the King insisted on it, but they were treated with greater respect. It was no shame to take a daēva as a lover even, which shocked me to my core. Tijah had just laughed and called me a prude.

But that wasn’t it—or at least, it wasn’t what Tijah thought. I didn’t consider myself a prude. The Four-Legs clan was not especially modest on questions of sex or nudity or any normal bodily function. We lived in tents, very close to each other, and privacy was a scarce commodity. I’d seen animals mating, and on occasion, people. It was a natural part of life.

What disturbed me the most was the idea that if the daēvas were
not
evil, were not Druj, it was still morally acceptable to enslave them.

But that ran against everything the Prophet had taught us, not to mention the fact that daēvas had fought alongside the Druj in the war. And no one who had seen a wight or lich or Revenant would deny that those things were evil incarnate. Or that any creature that stood with them was the same.

I shoved the memory away. How had I gone from being glad that Tijah was recovered to doubting the entire foundation of my faith in thirty seconds flat? Because our minds are ridiculous, I decided. With nothing to do but stare at a blank horizon, they have to find a way to entertain themselves. Like a child chasing a butterfly, they skip from place to place, until suddenly they look up and find themselves lost in the wilderness.

All that mattered was this moment, and the confrontation that lay ahead. We had just gotten a taste of what our foes were capable of. Now they were racing to the holy fire, the very heart of the empire. The Father only knew what they had planned.

Or how many more would die if we didn’t stop them.

I took a careful sip from my water skin. We had filled them to bursting at a spring I knew in the foothills, but it would be the last for hundreds of leagues. Or at least until we reached the Barbican, if it still stood.

My head jerked up as Tommas shouted something to Ilyas. They reined in their mounts.

I shaded my eyes. There was something on the plain ahead. A dust cloud.

“Riders,” Darius said.

“How many?”

They were the first words we had exchanged in hours.

“Five.”

“Are they the daēvas?”

“No.” He was troubled. “Something else.”

“Human? Druj?” I pressed.

“I don’t know. Human, I think, but something is…
off
about them.”

His tone discouraged any more questions. I think he felt as frustrated as I did.

“Form up!” Ilyas shouted.

Tijah loosened her scimitar and we rode up next to Ilyas and Tommas, our four horses forming a ragged line on the plain.

“They’re coming from the Rig-e Jenn,” I said.

“What’s that?” Ilyas asked. Every line of his body was rigid with tension.

“It means the devil’s dunes. A cursed place. The trade caravans all go around it.”

As the riders came closer, I could see that their mounts were even larger than those bred for the Water Dogs. Great black beasts that made ours look like ponies. The reason for this became clear when they reined up a short distance away.

For each bore not one, but three riders. The ones that sat behind wore thick metal collars around their necks. Their clothes were nothing more than rags. I was just near enough to make out the perfectly blank expressions on their faces. As if they no longer saw anything that was happening around them.

They were a mix of men and women, even two or three children. But they all had a sameness, slack and wide-eyed, that made my skin crawl.

Chains ran from the collars to cuffs around the left arms of the riders in the front. Unlike their captives, these men wore long sleeveless tunics of pale leather. From where I sat, they looked human. Unremarkable, except for their odd attire. I saw no swords or spears or any other weapons. And yet there was something about them, an invisible aura, that made me want to strike them all dead on the spot.

Darius stiffened behind me. Our loathing was mutual.

“Necromancers,” he spat.

Ilyas blinked. “It can’t be. They haven’t come so far south in centuries.”

“He’s right,” Tommas said, his handsome face hard as stone. “They’re linked to their human slaves. It’s the source of their power.”

Ilyas was silent for a moment. “What if we kill the slaves?” he asked quietly.

He was ruthless enough to do such a thing, I knew. He wouldn’t take pleasure in it, quite the opposite, but if it was necessary, he would do it without hesitation. The thought sickened me.

“I’m not killing children,” I said flatly. “Or adults, for that matter.”

“It won’t work anyway,” Darius said. “For every linked slave that dies, five Druj are born. It’s something about the backwash of the dark magic. The warrior-magi in Karnopolis warned me about this. They keep extensive records from the war there. We would soon be facing fifty, rather than five.”

“Use the power then.”

“Theirs is equal, if not stronger.”

“So how do we fight them?” Ilyas demanded.

“We don’t,” Darius said shortly. “Not unless we have to.”

“But we can’t just leave these people,” I said, turning in my saddle to stare daggers at Darius.

“He’s right,” Ilyas interrupted. “We can’t afford losses, not now. Our task is to catch the runners from Gorgon-e Gaz. Everything else is secondary.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “We’re Water Dogs! What happened to protecting the powerless? Punishing the wicked?”

“Enough, Nazafareen,” Ilyas growled.

“If you won’t ride with me, I’ll fight them myself,” I said, knowing I was pushing him too far but unable to stop myself. “I won’t sit back like a coward—”

“Enough!” Ilyas voice cracked like a whip. “Enough. I don’t care if you like it or not. But you will follow my orders or you will no longer wear the red. Understood?”

I subsided, still raging inside. Tijah spat in the dirt and I knew she was just as disgusted as I was.

“Water Dogs!” The lead rider called across the plain.

“In the name of King Artaxeros the Second, dismount and release your captives,” Ilyas yelled back.

The rider laughed. “But he’s not our King! And you haven’t heard my offer yet.”

Tommas and Ilyas exchanged an unreadable look.

“What offer?” Ilyas called. “I don’t make bargains with necromancers.”

“We call ourselves Antimagi, Water Dog. But that is neither here nor there.” The rider seemed darkly amused. “I know our rulers aren’t the closest of friends, but we have the same objective. For now, at least. To take the one named Victor.”

To his credit, Ilyas’s calm demeanor didn’t alter, although he must have been surprised.

“I see. And what do you want with this Victor, assuming I even know who you’re talking about?”

“Why, he’s the most sought-after daēva in Bactria!” the rider replied, and they all laughed. “The queen has desired the pleasure of his company for many long years. She’s most pleased that he managed to break free of the prison you locked him up in. She owes him a debt, you see. A great debt.”

I suddenly remembered Ilyas’s words as we sat around the fire.

He killed more Druj in the war than any other daēva. A bloodthirsty animal, by all
accounts…

Ilyas ran a hand through his hair. “And if we give you Victor…”

“You may have the rest. Come now! We both know you’re sorely outnumbered. Those daēvas will eat you pups alive. And Victor’s of no use to you. Even if, by some miracle, you manage to capture him alive, he’ll be going straight back to Gorgon-e Gaz. More likely, he’ll kill you all. So I propose a temporary alliance, only until we find them.” The rider grinned. Despite the noonday sun, his eyes were deep hollows in his face. “And then you’re free to run me through with your fearsome sword!” He laid a mocking hand on his chest.