The Reawakened (17 page)

“It’s terrible what happened to your mother and your aunt,” she said to Sura as they made their way uphill through the forest. “My father was taken in the invasion when I was four years old. Mother and I got away in time because she cloaked me with her Wolf invisibility. I can still feel her hand on my mouth, keeping me from crying as they led my father away.” She sighed. “We found out later that he died in captivity.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sura told her, resenting the Wolf less with every moment. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s anyone in our two villages who hasn’t been hurt by the Descendants.”

They made camp when it became too dark for Sura and Dravek to see the trail. By the light of a small campfire, they set up their tents and made dinner.

As they ate, Kara snuggled in Dravek’s lap and tried to feed him by hand. He played along at first, but his smile grew tighter. Finally, after she’d teased him several times by snatching back the food at the last instant, he picked her up and took her off his lap.

“Stop it,” he said quietly. “It’s silly.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

“I’m tired. I just want to eat and go to bed.”

“Bed.” She clapped her hands. “Now
that’s
fun.”

He blanched and glanced at Sura, then Etarek. “I meant, go to sleep.”

“Are you joking?” she said in a high-pitched voice. “We’re newlyweds. There’ll be no sleeping on this trip.”

Sura looked down at her plate, wondering how she would fit the food past the lump at the top of her stomach.

“Dravek, don’t mind us,” Etarek said. “Pretend we’re not here.”

Sura snorted. “Good luck with that.” She kept her gaze on her food, wondering how the comment had sounded to the others. Another two weeks of hiding her feelings would surely boil her insides.

Etarek and Kara began to discuss how much meloxa the four of them could drink per night while leaving enough to make a decent gift for the Tirons. They seemed content with the result, until Dravek spoke up.

“You women can’t drink if you’re trying to get pregnant. Meloxa’s not safe for babies.”

Kara slapped her forehead. “You’re right. How could I forget?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s all you talk about. Isn’t that why we got married?”

She stared at Dravek. “It’s not the only reason.”

“Good,” he said through a mouthful of dried venison. “But I still won’t let you drink meloxa.”

“
Let
me? Since when am I your child? I’m four years older than you.” She glared at him. “If anything, I’m the one who has to take care of you.”

He hunched his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Sura squirmed on her log and gave Etarek a nervous glance. His eyes and posture reflected her discomfort.

They finished their dinners in silence, put out the campfire and retired to their tents. Sura and Etarek laid out their bedrolls beside each other, then sat face-to-face. Her heart was pounding, and she felt a little sick.

“You were right,” she said. “This is awkward.”

“We don’t have to tonight. It’s up to you.”

“I need to show you something so it doesn’t startle you in the middle of—” She touched the collar of her shirt.

“Your scars?”

“How did you know?”

“I saw a bit when we danced. I confess I was looking down your dress.” He tilted his head. “What happened?”

She told him about the fire while he held her hand and squeezed it at all the right moments. Then she turned and unbuttoned her shirt to show him the burns on her back.

Etarek made a tsking noise. “Sura, I’m so sorry.”

She winced at the pity in his voice. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Good.” He passed his hand over her shoulder and down her back. “It doesn’t matter.” He turned her to face him. “I still think you’re beautiful.”

He kissed her, sweetly, and she tried not to compare his dismissive reaction to Dravek’s, who had venerated her scars. Etarek was being kind in his own way.

She pulled back and gave him an uneasy smile. “Maybe we could wait until tomorrow?”

He nodded. “I know this is hard for you, after what happened to your mate. I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

She gave Etarek a quick, awkward kiss, then lay on her side facing away from him. It felt as if the entire Kalindon Council were watching them. Her body felt cold at the thought of bearing an unwanted baby.

It wouldn’t stay unwanted, she knew, and that was what scared her most. The Descendants had killed or imprisoned nearly everyone she’d ever loved.

Somehow they’d find a way to take her child, too.

Faceless people surrounded them, shrieking pleas in a language she couldn’t understand. They pressed in, pushing her closer to the fire. Dravek held out his hands.

“Do you dare?” His voice was a whisper, but she heard his words clearly. “For me?”

She nodded and tried to step around the bonfire to join him.

“No, Sura. Inside.”

Her blood ran cold. He meant for her to walk through the fire to meet him.

“Together,” she said. “Count to three.”

“One.” His gaze bored into hers.

“Two.” She moved to the edge of the flames and lifted her hands.

“Three,” they spoke together as they moved in.

They screamed. It hurt worse than all the pain in Sura’s life added together. She wanted to leap back out, but the agony in Dravek’s eyes propelled her forward to take his hands.

The pain ceased. She breathed hard, gulping hot air that didn’t sear her lungs but only filled her with power.

He moved forward and lifted her hands above her head, backing her up to pin her wrists against the wooden stake. She cried out at the feel of his hot flesh against hers.

The flames jumped higher as if in celebration. He brought his mouth to her neck, and Sura felt a moment of perfect happiness. She belonged here forever, in the fire, in his skin.

Something cool and smooth slid against her upraised hands and wrapped around her wrists. Dravek pulled his head away and looked up. She craned her neck to follow his gaze.

A long black snake was binding them to the stake. As it twisted around their upper arms, its tongue flicked over Sura’s skin. Its gaze reflected the flames around it, but unlike the flat, glassy eyes of a real snake, these orbs sparked with wisdom and cunning.

“It’s Her,” Sura breathed.

The snake constricted, strapping them to the pole.

Dravek turned his head to Sura. “It’s what She wants.”

She smiled. He was hers. Their love would make them invincible.

Without arms to clutch him, it should have been awkward. But in the dream Sura’s legs slid up easily to encircle his waist. He angled his hips to bring his hard length against her most sensitive spot. Every muscle in their bodies jerked with the sudden shock. Dravek dipped his head to hers.

His tongue flicked in and out of her mouth as he stroked against her, sending her into a frenzy. It was wild, blinding pleasure, but she needed him inside her. Her hips bucked and pitched in an attempt to reach him.

Finally he pulled back and paused, gazing down with eyes as dark as a moonless night.

“I love you,” he whispered, then gave her everything, kissing her deep as he plunged inside her.

The world shattered.

The stake, the flames, the snake—all vanished. Sura and Dravek floated to the ground, locked in their embrace.

The dirt beneath them was cold, and the surrounding forest was gray and lifeless. Their skin no longer scorched like fire. But their bodies were still warm and alive.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered, holding him close. “This is all we need.”

Sura’s eyes jerked open into darkness. It took a moment to remember where she was, and who she was with. A tear slipped from her eye before she could stop it.

Etarek’s voice rumbled beside her. “Was it a nightmare?”

No,
she thought, staring at the ceiling of the dark tent.
This is the nightmare.

His hand slipped over the blanket to touch hers. She drew it to cup her breast through her thin shirt.

Etarek sighed as if he’d been holding a breath for several minutes. “Are you sure?”

She couldn’t respond in words, for no matter what she said, his Deer senses would hear nothing but sadness.

Instead of speaking, she pulled him to kiss her, as her mind and body tried to convince each other that he was the one she wanted.

Relieved, she looked over at Mali, who frowned. They’d been using the information Rhia had gleaned from the interrogation sessions to figure out what the Ilions knew about the resistance, so Mali was no doubt disappointed Rhia had the night off. They’d given up trying to inflict pain on Mali herself and had resorted to keeping her in criminally horrid conditions. Neither method had gotten results. Now they were just keeping her as bait for Lycas. As soon as they caught him, Captain Addano had told Rhia, they’d dispose of Mali like they did Sirin.

The door leading to the outside opened, and the captain’s voice rang forth.

“Bring the women out to the yard. Now!”

The guards started and looked at each other. “What’s he doing here?” said the one who’d spoken before. He called out to the captain. “Sir, are they being released?”

Addano gave an uncharacteristically harsh laugh. “In a sense. I have orders for their immediate execution.”

Rhia’s knees turned to water. Her hands slid along the rough walls of the cell, nails digging into the stone to keep her standing. “No…”

The guard shrugged. “Less work for us.” He pointed at Mali. “You two get her. I’ll take the little one.”

Rhia couldn’t see the expression on Mali’s face, but the Wasp’s posture remained straight and tall. Rhia shifted back her own shoulders and lifted her chin as the guard entered her cell. She moved forward at his gesture so that he wouldn’t grab her. He pulled her arms behind her back, almost gently, then bound her wrists together with a thin rope.

They wouldn’t see her cry or beg for her life. After all, she’d already died once. There was nothing to fear. Soon Crow would take her into His eternal realm of peace.

Then her mind showed her Marek’s face, and those of her children, and she wanted to collapse on the floor, kick and scream and punch until they let her go. At that moment she felt like she’d tell the Descendants anything they wanted to know, just for one more glimpse of her family.

They were led out of their cells and turned right toward the iron door. Behind her, Mali walked without protest. “If you kill me,” she stated, “you’ll lose this war. When you’re fleeing back to what’s left of Ilios, you’ll remember my words.”

They opened the door, and the captain’s voice came from around the corner. “Tie them to the blocks, then step back.”

“We know what to do,” Rhia’s guard muttered under his breath as he tugged her out into the humid summer night.

In the torchlight she could see two large stone blocks sitting in the center of the exercise yard. Dark liquid stains covered the tops and sides. An ax rested against one of them.

Rhia’s body trembled at the sight. Such a death might not be quick or painless. She closed her eyes and prayed out loud to Crow to have mercy on her and Mali.

Her guard shook her elbow. “Stop babbling. You’ll wake the others.” He led her to the block and pressed down hard atop her shoulder. In a moment she was on her knees, perversely grateful she no longer had to force herself to stand. As the guard bound her to the block, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for all those she’d left behind, all those she’d failed.

Then she thought of the only reason why she and Mali would be no further use to the Ilions: Lycas had been killed. Her tears flowed as she whispered his name.

The guards stepped back, and she waited to hear the heavy booted footsteps of the executioner.

A loud whistle came from both sides of the yard. The sound was followed by a
thup!
and muffled cries of the three guards.

An invisible hand grasped hers. “Rhia, it’s me.”

Marek.

“Hold still,” he said. She heard the rough slide of a knife blade through rope, and in a moment she was free. She turned to see the guards on their knees, grasping at the arrows protruding from their chests. Their mouths opened and closed.

“Hurry!” Mali whispered, then fell back as her own bindings were cut. She rolled over and snatched the short sword from the sheath of the closest guard, who was groaning loudly. In three quick motions, she slashed their throats, and the yard was silent again.

Rhia looked for Addano, expecting him to appear any moment with reinforcements. Someone leaped from the shadows where his voice had originated.

Jula.

“Out. Now,” she said in a hushed version of the captain’s voice. Rhia followed her daughter to the corner of the yard, where she pulled aside a pile of brush to reveal a spot where the fence had been cut away at the bottom. Jula slipped through on her stomach.

Marek laid a hand on Rhia’s waist. “You go first.”

She slipped through, her back scraping on the bottom of the cut fence posts. On the other side, she got to her knees and soon drew her invisible husband into a tight embrace.

“You’re alive,” she whispered. “I knew it.”

“Maybe it pays to be married to a Crow.” He kissed her hard and quick as he reappeared, bow and all. “And part of a Wolf pack.” He pointed to two trees, one on each end of the prison yard, where she assumed two other invisible archers sat.

Rhia turned back to the fence, looking for Mali, who wasn’t coming. She pressed her eye to the gap between the slats. The Wasp was collecting weapons from the three soldiers.

“Mali, hurry!” she whispered as loudly as she dared.

“You go. I’ll catch up if I can.”

“What do you mean?”

She turned to Rhia, a sword in each hand. “They have twenty-four of our men. I’m going back for them.” Her head suddenly jerked as if she heard someone coming, and the torchlight illuminated a grin of anticipation. “Run now. And, Rhia, if your brother’s still alive…” Mali’s smile widened. “Punch him in the gut for me.”

Rhia shook her head. “I wouldn’t want him to get sentimental.”

For the first time in their lives, Mali laughed
with
her instead of
at
her.

Rhia hoped it wouldn’t be with one of her last breaths.