Trial of Fire (29 page)

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Authors: Kate Jacoby

BOOK: Trial of Fire
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And perhaps he could Sense Malachi nearby.

For the fifth time in an hour he suppressed a sigh: there was no way to
ignore it, and even Finnlay would be feeling it soon, even if he didn’t Seek. He didn’t know how Andrew would react, or even if it were safe for them to continue.

Were they walking into a trap?

Even so, he couldn’t run: he needed to find Micah, and discover who had killed Bella and Lawrence, and why. If Nash had wanted Andrew, did that mean he was about to get rid of Kenrick for his own reasons – and in that case, should Robert be standing in his way? Of course, to encourage Nash to do that, he’d have to give him Andrew – which he would no more do than hand over his mother. But either way, he needed to know more. Knowledge was his only real weapon, especially now that Nash had regenerated.

‘That’s far enough,’ he said quietly, his voice swallowed up by the thick pine forest they’d entered. Even the gentle steps of the horses were muffled, and their path almost invisible on the dry needle floor. ‘You two can wait here, under cover. I’ll check Micah’s cottage.’

Andrew didn’t look happy, but Finnlay agreed quietly. He and Robert exchanged looks, then Robert turned his horse, heading in the direction of the clearing and the cliff, Seeking again.

It was so much stronger now, a flavour in the air, like a trail of crumbs he could follow: just one, ahead of him, waiting. No sign of Micah. He wound his way through the thick pine forest until he reached the clearing. Micah’s cottage stood on the other side, in the shadow of the cliff leaning over it like a sentinel. There was smoke coming from the chimney, and fresh firewood stacked outside the door. Somebody had made themselves at home.

He should just go; obviously Micah hadn’t returned here after going to the Enclave, so he should collect Andrew and Finnlay and continue on his way – but if he did, he would never find out what he needed to know – and, damn it, who the hell was living in Micah’s house?

He rode forward, stopped in the centre of the clearing and swung down from his saddle, keeping his hand on his sword, ready for battle. On the ground were fresh footprints made that day and, in the air, the scent of freshly baked bread. A fine thread of memory tingled down his spine, warning him, but then the door was thrown open and he was faced with Sairead, the woman who had taken Micah’s soul, who had tried to kill Robert in Nash’s service.

For a moment, real shock widened her eyes, then she was standing tall, ready to fight him. Robert had already brought his sword up. ‘What have you done with him?’

He couldn’t deny she was beautiful. She stood before him in a gown
of delicate rose hue, a heavy fabric fit for riding. She had no weapons other than the ice-blue of her eyes, the gold of her hair. She stared at him for long seconds, as though measuring him, before she stepped clear of the door. ‘Micah is not here. He has been captured. I’ll take you to him.’

‘You have him hostage?’ Robert couldn’t keep the hostility out of his voice. This woman had destroyed a friendship he’d thought indestructible. ‘Am I his ransom?’

‘If you want to look at it that way, then yes. But you must come with me nonetheless.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘Then I cannot be held responsible for what happens to him.’

‘And you would pretend you care.’

Her eyes flashed at him then, and she took a step closer. ‘He is my husband. I carry his child. His life is in danger and he sees you still as his friend. If you would help him, then you must come with me.’

There was no doubting the passion in her gaze, nor the gentle swell in her belly. But how could Micah have
married
her? She was Malachi, the sworn enemy of all Salti, people Micah had grown up with, people like Finnlay and Patric, and Robert himself.

‘You would leave him to his fate?’ Sairead asked, frowning, disbelieving. ‘You will not help?’

‘Why should I trust what you say? You’re Malachi.’

‘And you,’ she said harshly, ‘are Salti! You carry your own crimes. Micah has been captured, held against your return. I don’t know any more than that. I have been waiting here in the hope that you would come looking for him, that you still care enough for him to aid him.’

‘And where will you take me?’

‘The longer we delay, the worse it will be.’

Robert frowned, sending his Senses out again to check if there were more Malachi around. ‘How?’

‘They’ll know you’re here and if you don’t come with me—’

This was idiocy, and yet, he could not ignore this plea. Whatever Micah had done, Robert could never abandon him, even if this were just another trap. But if he left, he would do so without a word to Finnlay and Andrew. They would assume him captured, and Finnlay would ride with all speed to Bleakstone, where the Bishop – a man of his word, if nothing else – would take the first step in an avalanche which would be unstoppable. If this
were
a trap, as it undoubtedly was, then Andrew would need that help.

And there was no doubt in his mind that if she knew Andrew was with him, this woman would tell her people.

Fine, then. He sheathed his sword. This wasn’t how he’d planned it, but again he had little choice. ‘So be it. Let’s go,’ he said shortly.

Sairead’s eyes widened in surprise, then she turned for the door. ‘I’ll put the fire out. We’ll leave immediately.’

17

No matter what Robert had said, Finnlay couldn’t just stand there and ignore the vibration in the air, the itching in his spine that said there were Malachi about. And perhaps Robert hadn’t expected him to, because he neither looked back nor did anything to stop Finnlay following on foot at a distance, slowly and quietly. Andrew stuck by him, equally determined, as though he could read Finnlay’s thoughts.

They crept towards the clearing, and paused when Robert did, but when he strode on up to the cottage, Finnlay kept Andrew back and set a Mask over them, casting a warning glance in Andrew’s direction to stay quiet and still.

He wasn’t surprised when the door of the cottage opened and a woman stepped out. She looked a little familiar, but he couldn’t remember why. Robert appeared to know her and other than raising his sword initially, neither fought her nor fled, despite the fact that she was Malachi. What did surprise him was the gasp of horror from Andrew, the wide eyes and the sudden, urgent movement forward – which Finnlay stopped with a hard hand.

Andrew turned agonised eyes on him, but Finnlay held a finger to his lips for silence, then mouthed, ‘Wait.’

Andrew’s urgency abated a little, but his body still strained towards Robert. The two were talking, and though Finnlay guessed their words were heated, he could see only gestures, and heard nothing. For the hundredth time he wished he could mindspeak Robert.

Then, inexplicably, Robert sheathed his sword, and, as he swung back into the saddle, the woman ran inside, emerging a moment later with a cloak on. She shut the door and entered the stable to bring her own horse out. Without another word, she mounted and rode into the forest behind the house – and Robert followed her!

Finnlay swore and dropped the mask, ready to shadow the pair. But then he paused. Robert had given him orders, and no matter what else happened—

Andrew rushed forward, already calling out. Finnlay scrambled to stop him, holding the struggling boy with some difficulty. Fortunately, there was no sign the Malachi had heard him.

‘Finnlay, you have to let me go! You don’t understand! She’s his wife! She promised she wouldn’t … and now—’

‘Just calm down, Andrew,’ Finnlay held him firm, ‘and tell me what this is about. Then we’ll decide what to do.’

‘We don’t have time—’

‘Enough!’ Finnlay bellowed, and the boy froze, staring at him wide-eyed. His struggles ceased as Finnlay released him and stepped back. ‘Tell me who she is.’

‘Sairead. Micah’s wife. She’s the Malachi who stabbed Robert. Micah married her.’

‘You knew this?’

‘I found Micah with her last year and he admitted that they were married, and I didn’t want to not trust him but he promised me she was no danger, that they’d been married for years and kept their marriage secret from both us and her people, and I’m so sorry, Finn, this is my fault, if they kill Robert, it’s going to be my fault. We have to go after them! We have to get Robert back!’

‘Why in the name of the gods didn’t you say something about this before? You should have told Robert at least. Especially after yesterday and— Well, we can argue about this later. Let’s go.’

Andrew didn’t pause, but swung up into his saddle and turned ready to go after Robert, but Finnlay put his hand on Andrew’s rein. ‘No, we’re going to Flan’har.’

‘What?’ Andrew’s face, already white with shock, paled again. ‘But what about—’

‘Robert was no prisoner. By my guess, she’s taking him to Micah, who’s either being held by Malachi or Nash. Either way, Robert won’t be back today, and will be better off if we leave him to do what he needs to do – so you and I are heading for Bleakstone.’

‘But we can’t just leave him!’

‘Andrew.’ Finnlay waited until the boy turned back to face him, then with as much confidence into his voice as he could, he said, ‘There’s not a Malachi alive powerful enough to best Robert – and they know that. You have to trust him.’

‘Oh? And you’re going to tell me that
you
don’t want to go after him?’

‘Of course I do, but we’re still going to Bleakstone.’ Finnlay herded Andrew’s horse away from Robert and the mysterious Malachi.

‘But, Finnlay—’

‘If Robert had wanted us to wait, he would have given us some kind of signal when the woman went into the house. Now that’s enough. We have some serious riding to do.’

*

Robert kept track on two different levels. At first, his sole desire was to Seek Finnlay and Andrew, to make sure that they got away cleanly with nobody following them, that they weren’t going to make some idiot attempt at rescuing him, and that they were heading in the right direction. Then, once he was sure they were on their way safely, he began to pay more attention to where he was being taken, and the Malachi who hated him.

They turned south, climbing the hills behind the cottage and then making their way down the other side. They did not travel fast. It was obvious that even so early on in her pregnancy, riding hard was uncomfortable for Sairead, but still she wore an expression of strained urgency, and again his doubts shifted. Would she risk her life waiting for him if Micah wasn’t really in danger?

‘Where are we going?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why should I tell you? Would you tell me, if our positions were reversed?’

‘No,’ Robert conceded with a half smile, ‘I don’t think I would.’

Another hour went by before he tried again. ‘How long have you and Micah been married?’ Micah being married at all was a strange concept, but even more strange was the reality that he’d married a Malachi, the same woman who had tried to kill Robert. And all this time, Micah had kept her at his cottage, so close to Andrew.

Had the boy known?

‘We married a year after the Battle of Shan Moss, though why you should care, I know not.’

He nodded at her reply, barely registering the details and the tone of sheer disdain. But he had to keep her talking. ‘This is your first child?’ He had to hide his sudden and gut-wrenching fear: was Andrew’s reticence about killing Kenrick and taking the throne based on more than a desire not to hurt his cousin and a wish not to be King? Was he already under the influence of Malachi, and, by association, Nash? It was hard to believe that Jenn’s son could possibly— But he could also be influenced without him realising it. Could he possibly be so near a Malachi and not know – or if he did know, then why hadn’t he said anything, especially when it was Malachi who had killed his aunt and uncle? None of it made sense.

He realised she was talking to him. ‘Our first child, though it should be our third or fourth. Why are you asking these questions?’

Robert turned to look at her. ‘Why are you answering?’

Her look had daggers in it. ‘Because a long time ago, he idolised you.’

‘And now he hates me.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘he hates you.’

*

Andrew felt sick to the stomach. If Finnlay had let him pause long enough, he would have left his breakfast behind some bush somewhere. But instead, they rode as though there were a hundred demons chasing them, pausing only long enough to change horses, to grab some bread and refill water bottles. Then they were on the road again, leaving the road, taking paths across the countryside, constantly heading southeast, further and further away from Robert.

It was all his fault: now both Robert
and
Micah were in danger, and all because he couldn’t tell when to trust somebody and when not to. Robert wanted him to be a King and he couldn’t even do something like this the right way; he had been so sure she had not lied when she said she was no danger to Micah – but of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a danger to Robert. How, in the name of all that was holy, was he supposed to make good judgments when he was on the throne?

Once again, his stomach lurched and he swallowed hard to settle it. There was nothing he could do now, other than to keep up with Finnlay and head further east into another country, going to a place where people would all do their best to make him into something he didn’t want to be.

*

‘Are we going to travel all night?’ Robert asked, looking up at the new-formed stars above. They were travelling across a hill where three small farms sat below in the valley – farms with warm fires and food and some place to rest. He was tired, still not fully recovered from his ordeal with the Key, and the picture of a warm bed was tantalising.

‘No, not all night. Another hour, maybe more.’

Another hour – where would that put them? And what would he find when he got there?

How she hated him – for what? For being Micah’s friend? When she’d stabbed him at Shan Moss, Nash had congratulated her and she’d said,
‘Shut up, I didn’t do it for you
.’ The implication was that she’d done it for Micah, to free him of service to – who did she think he was?
What
did she think he was? If Sairead was so evil herself that she would think Nash better than Robert, then how could Micah, the best of men, want to be married to her?

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