Thorns (17 page)

Did I dare try to run?

The coach stopped before the consulate building. The prefabricated structure looked utterly alien, the gleaming metal walls rising up from the wooden buildings around it, the whole thing ugly as a scar against the ancient stone architecture of the village.

I climbed out of the coach, my hands shaking. My boots crunched on the icy dirt that surrounded the building site as I crossed the yard, and Korr followed, laying one gloved hand on my shoulder and pushing me forward. Soldiers blocked the gate, and any thought of running died at the press of his hand on my shoulder.

The sound of workers’ hammers clanged and clattered around us as he escorted me to the door and ushered me inside.

The interior offered little to see. Bands of light gleamed in golden stripes across the floor of a dark hallway. The hammering was muted now, and it echoed faintly, as if we were deep underground. Far away, I heard the metallic whine of grinding gears, and the clang of heavy steel slamming down. I jerked. Sweat formed on my palms and dripped down my back.

“This way,” he said, pushing me toward a door at the end of the hall.

What was he going to do to me?

The door opened into a small room with a single desk and a chair. Light streamed from a window set high in the wall and pooled against the far wall.

Korr paced around the desk, half of his face catching in the beam. The reddish brilliance lit his eyelashes and the ends of his hair and threw shadows across his mouth and eyes.

He looked cruel, almost animalistic.

“Now,” he said, leaning over the desk and boring his gaze into mine. “Let’s talk.”

I licked my dry lips and tried to think of what to do, what to say, but Adam’s words about torture were the only thought that kept surfacing in my swirl of mental panic. Fresh sweat blossomed acro¬¬¬ss my shoulder blades. A pang of terror stabbed my chest, and I clamped my lips shut in desperation. The secrets I carried were like a dead corpse across my shoulders, weighing me down, and Korr’s eyes watched me with nimble observance. I dared not move or speak for fear of betraying myself somehow.

I looked away from his face, at the wall behind him. I realized he’d pinned up a map of the Frost, a much nicer one than any I’d ever seen. Our village sat in the center, and the paths through the Frost shot out from it like spokes on a wheel. There was the river that separated us from the Farthers, tracing the edge of the map, a thin thread of blackish blue. There was the mountains, the lake of ice, the roads to the other villages, Riverhaven and Brackworth and others so far away that we rarely heard anything from them. A thought flew through my head—had they been taken over just as we had?—but Korr shifted, and the movement snatched my attention back to the present.

“Weaver,” he mused. “Your family makes the yarn and the thread. Do you make the village clothes, too? Or is that the Tailor’s job?”

A vein throbbed just below my jaw. Was he making
small talk
before he tortured me?

“Come, come,” Korr drawled. “Don’t be so shy. I know a great deal about you already, Lia Weaver. Your parents were killed by the monsters that roam the night, and now you care for your crippled brother and impetuous young sister alone.” He paused, waiting. When I didn’t make a sound, he straightened and flashed me a cold smile. “Don’t be so afraid, girl. Answer my questions, and I will make it worth your while.”

“What questions?” My voice sounded rusty to my ears. It was too loud, too desperate.

“The girl speaks.” He smirked.

I clamped my lips shut again.

Korr slid one finger over the edge of his desk, brushing away a line of dust. “How well do you know the Frost?”

“I live in the midst of it,” I said simply.

“That must be hard. All alone out in the wilderness, so far from the others, unprotected from the wild things of the woods.” He paused, deliberate and quiet. “Why do you live so far from the rest of the village?”

Fear spiked in my chest. I thought of the papers in the room beneath the barn, my father’s journals about his father and the histories. Was there some other reason that we lived so far from the others? And why was Korr asking me?

“It is our home.” I spoke before I could stop myself. “It was my parents’ home. We will stay in our home despite the danger, because it is ours.”

He tipped his head to one side, studying me. “You Frost dwellers are a stubborn lot.”

I didn’t reply to that.

“Two months ago, a fugitive escaped our Aeralian borders and crossed into your lands.”

My heart skipped a beat. Gabe, then. I dared not say anything to betray my knowledge that he was related to the fugitive. I stayed silent. I forced the muscles in my face to stay slack, expressionless.

Korr rounded the desk. He stopped in front of me, and we stood toe to toe. “The fugitive escaped. He was not recaptured.”

“What are you asking?” I said. I made my voice as even as possible.

“I am looking for a place of legend,” Korr said. His voice lowered, dropping to a purr. “ In the past, some have called it Ech, Echo, the Place of Echoes, the Ancient City. It’s true name is Echlos.”

I forced myself to be still, to be nonreactive. My eyes didn’t widen. My mouth didn’t fall open. But my hands prickled with fresh perspiration.

Echlos
.

The word felt wrong coming from his mouth, like a secret I never imagined I’d hear uttered aloud. My skin turned to ice and I held very still lest I shatter. Lest I slip up and give something away in my expression. My pulse pounded in my throat and wrists and roared in my ears.

He bent over me, and his dark gaze bored into mine. “You live on the fringes of the wild. If anyone might catch a glimpse of this place, it would be someone like you.”

He spoke softly, precisely, and each syllable was a promise of something malevolent. But he was smiling, as if we were having a friendly conversation. His eyes challenged me. “You’re in a prime spot to gather information.”

I was trembling all over. My legs were jelly, my stomach a tight knot.

“I heard about your little stunt the other day,” he said. “With the soldier? A dangerous move for a Frost dweller to make, don’t you think?”

I licked my lips. They had become very dry.

“Officer Raine is threatening death for anyone found working against him, but I have clout that he does not. I could protect anyone who came to me first.”

My heart thudded.

“You’re in a precarious place, Lia Weaver. But if you bring me information, I can help you. I can make sure Raine doesn’t notice you. I can make sure your little farm and little family stay protected. You’d be well rewarded.”

All I could see was Jonn and Ivy. I. Must. Keep. Silent.

“Well?” he pressed.

I moved one hand helplessly, and his eyes dropped to it. He sighed quietly, and stepped back, facing the map.

“That is all. You may go.”

At first I thought I’d misheard. “What?”

“Go,” he said. “I am done with you for now. Bring me information, and you will not regret it.”

I fled for the door.

I EMERGED FROM the building and staggered for the street. My thoughts turned anxious somersaults in my head. My hands shook.

He’d been in the midst of an interrogation, and then he’d withdrawn and let me go. I didn’t know what had caused his abrupt change in mood, but I wasn’t going to wait around in case he decided it’d been a mistake. I ducked down a canyon of stone between two shops and huddled against the wall, struggling to breathe as I tried to calm myself. My thoughts spiraled in my head. Ann had betrayed me. I’d been singled out for questioning—and then let go. Korr was looking for Echlos...

Korr was looking for Echlos
.

A single shard of dread lodged itself in my chest.

The map.

Ann’s father had a map in his study that marked the place. It had belonged to my parents and it had been stolen by Cole from their bodies after they’d died. The map was only half of what was needed to find the location, but it was more than I wanted Korr to have.

With it, he could still find Echlos if he was clever enough. And the man was clever enough.

“Lia?”

Strong arms caught me, and I smelled pine as a cloak enveloped me.
Adam
? What—how— But I didn’t think further, didn’t hesitate. I folded into him as he pulled me close. His cloak was heavy and warm around my shoulders. His hands brushed over my hair, my cheeks. His eyes sought mine, and I read the panic in them. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

How had he known? Who had told him?

“Lia?” A note of panic split his voice.

I shook my head, and he exhaled in relief.

“I heard you’d been taken,” he said.

Children ran past us, and a pair of girls in snow-white cloaks hurried by the entrance to the alley. We broke apart dizzily, and Adam took me by the arm and drew me deeper into the shadows. As soon as we were out of sight, he dropped his hand and stepped back. He ran both hands through his hair and bit his lip. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. “He interrogated you?”

It was cold without him close. My senses were spinning…Korr, the interrogation, Adam… Everything was in a jumble. I couldn’t think straight. I rubbed my arms and gulped air to clear my head. The wind swirled around us, teasing the edges of our cloaks and tugging at our hair. Adam’s thick curls blew into his eyes and across his cheeks.

“I didn’t say anything,” I whispered. “But he mentioned Echlos.”

Adam’s face turned ashen. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He scowled. “He’s here to find the PLD. I’m sure of it.”

Why did they want this device so badly? What did it do? “Well, then we have to find it first.”

“We need more time.”

I bit my lip. “Adam, the map in the Mayor’s study. It mentions Echlos. What if he sees it?”

We stared at each other.

“We have to get that map,” he said. He began to pace, his head lowered and his arms crossed. Finally he whirled to face me.

“The map is in the Mayor’s study. I can’t go near the house, but you have an invitation to the Elders’ gathering. So you are going to get to the map.”

“If by ‘invitation’ you mean working as a servant—”

“It’s a way in,” he said.

“But how am I supposed to get into the Mayor’s study?”

He studied me. “You did it before.”

Before
, yes. When I still could trust my best friend. When everything was simpler. When at least I knew who my enemies were. “I can’t ask Ann for help. She betrayed me, Adam.”

A spark of something I couldn’t define glimmered in his eyes. “Don’t be so quick to burn that bridge. She might have had a reason.”

I didn’t know how to reply to that.

“When are you supposed to help Ann?” he asked

“Tomorrow night.” Fresh apprehension squeezed in my chest. Could I do it now? Could I face her? Could I face Korr?

“Perfect. Find a way to get to the map, and we’ll meet afterward.”

“Is there any way you might be able to get into the study without Ann’s help?”

“I’d have to find the key,” I said. “I think the Mayor carries it on his person.”

“You’ll be serving, yes?”

“I think so.” Ann hadn’t really explained what the extent of my duties would be.

“Well,” he mused, “there may be more than one copy. And if you can’t find one, you could always pick the lock.”

“I don’t know how to pick locks!”

“It’s not too difficult. I’ll teach you.”

“I don’t know—”

Footsteps echoed at the end of the alley. Adam stepped back. “We’ll make more plans tonight,” he said quietly. “You can do this; don’t worry.”

And then he was gone.

I headed for the gate to the Frost slowly, my head still spinning from everything that had happened.

As I passed the quota yard, a flicker of red caught my eye.

Ann
.

She stood in the shadows of the Assembly Hall, her arms wrapped tight around her waist as if she was physically holding herself together. Her face was the color of fresh snow, and dark circles ringed her eyes. When she caught sight of me, the pinch in her shoulders eased, and she leaned back against the corner of the building as if she’d suddenly lost all the strength in her legs.

I kept walking. I passed her and I didn’t stop.

I didn’t miss the expressions that flitted across her face—pain, sadness, guilt.

I reached the gate and didn’t look back.

~

Adam met me at the barn before dusk descended. He’d brought a lock and a handful of slender metal picks along with him, and he spread the tools on the barn floor for me to see.

“If you can’t find the key,” he said, “you’ll have to use this. It’s really very simple.”

It didn’t look simple, but I wasn’t going to let a little scrap of metal defeat me. I watched carefully as Adam picked up the longest, thinnest pick and inserted it into the lock. He explained the mechanisms, and then I tried it. I struggled, and he covered my fingers with his.

“No, like this.”

I went still, shocked by the warmth of his hand. A prickle ran up my arm.

He let go of me and sat back, letting me try again.

Finally, I succeeded in opening the lock.

“Good,” Adam said, clearly pleased. “You did well.”

“But what if I can’t do it tomorrow? What if I forget, or panic?”

“You’re one of the calmest, smartest people I know,” he said. “You aren’t going to forget. You aren’t going to panic. And besides, you are probably going to find the key. This is just a backup plan.”

You’re one of the calmest, smartest people I know
. I gaped at him. Compliments were not easy to come by from Adam Brewer, but this was the third time he’d given me one in as many weeks.

He looked at me, and I schooled my features into a somber expression. I didn’t want him to see my confusion.

There was so much to sort out in my head.

~

The next day, I made the journey into town. The streets seemed emptier of villagers and fuller of soldiers. Had more Farthers come? Where were all the townsfolk?