Veil of Shadows (14 page)

Laithe’s people might lack the technology of the Ishtanians, but they didn’t lack simple resources. He’d been trailing after Dais for five days when he first sensed the presence of one of the others.

He recognized the crackle of power, the restrained energy, and knew who it was even before the Sirvani approached him that afternoon.

“Lord Reil wishes an update,” Corom said after bowing to Laithe.

Laithe sheathed the knife he’d held and dropped down out of the tree. “It took you long enough to find me. By the time you return to him, it’s likely the situation will change.”

Corom simply inclined his head. “Has the traitor made any attempt to secure this reputed female Warlord?”

“No. He hasn’t fled, however. Nor has he tried to establish contact with the rebels. If it was sabotage he was about, he would either have fled or already contacted one of his previous acquaintances.”

Corom was quiet for a moment and then he asked, a trace of curiosity in his voice, “Have you seen this woman?”

“No.” Laithe shook his head. They might be close to the rebel camp, but the rebels rarely left it, unless it was in large numbers. This was their territory and Laithe wasn’t about to place himself in their path just to see if this woman existed.

Corom’s face showed no change, but there was a flash in his eyes—disappointment. “If this man has lied to us, if she doesn’t exist, what chance have we of returning home?”

It wasn’t entirely an unexpected question—Laithe had pondered it more than once himself. Could they return home? How?

“I do not know, Corom,” he said finally, turning his head to the west, staring in the direction where the Gate had once stood.

“I’ve heard talk.”

Laithe cocked a brow. They’d all heard talk, but he must admit, he was surprised that Corom would discuss this with him—this particular Sirvani was known for being reticent, talking only when relaying orders or addressing his superiors. “What sort of talk?”

“Some of the other Warlords, including Reil, seem to think they could coax enough energy from the witches to forcibly open a small Gate—the Gate’s pathways still exist, but we haven’t the ability to open the portal.”

“Coax the energy,” Laithe murmured, smiling despite himself. “There will be no
coaxing
. It would be taken, and taken in a way that would likely kill them.”

Corom’s lids flickered.

“If we’re to be talking of something that would kill whatever woman we laid our hands on, let’s not be soft and dance around the issue. We’re talking of returning to our world—and the price is the life of another.”

“Does that bother you?” Corom asked.

Judging by the look in his eyes, it bothered the Sirvani.

“I will do whatever I must do.” Laithe shrugged. “Although, it may not even be an issue. The only place we could possibly hope to lift a Gate is here. That’s where the strongest pathways lie and the Gate’s destruction threw everything into chaos. Trying to force a small Gate up in a new, untried locale would be foolish, and likely a death sentence for all involved. Besides, I’ve yet to feel the power of a single witch. It’s been more than a month, and not a one of us have sensed any witch magic at all.”

“Most of them have already fled this region,” Corom said, nodding. “And we haven’t a chance in the frozen hell of kidnapping one from another place and forcing her here. We’d be caught and killed.”

“Yes.” It was practically a nonissue.

Corom opened his mouth to speak—no sound came out, though. Both of them heard it. The faint whisper of sound, a foot gliding over the uneven earth. Farther away, a murmured voice. This far away, neither of them could hear the words . . . just the voice itself.

But it was a female voice.

A female voice outside the camp.

And through the trees, they could both see a familiar head as he cut back and forth through the forest.

Dais.

On somebody’s trail.

They followed him.

Not one now, but two.

Dais smiled in hot satisfaction.

Good. Damn good. It was her. He hadn’t seen her, but in his gut, he knew Lee had slipped outside the camp.

He caressed his pulsar lovingly, thought about jacking up the power so that when he shot her, it would boil her blood from the inside out—she’d die horribly, painfully. Relatively quickly, but he could handle quick, as long as it was painful.

Instead, he set it to stun. Stun the bitch, and then have her trussed up and tied like a beast when the Warlords showed up.

They’d have to make haste. And he knew she probably wasn’t alone. But there were only a few people with her. The path they followed wasn’t one that allowed for large parties—at least not quietly. It was a scout’s trail, narrow and uneven, winding up into the foothills.

If it was one of the larger units, they’d take an alternate route.

So Lee would be mostly unguarded. A few soldiers at best. Drawing his secondary weapon, he tossed his primary to his left hand. He’d take down whoever accompanied her and then stun Lee. It would be over in a matter of seconds. Damn good thing, because he knew Kalen—the bastard wouldn’t have allowed Lee to leave alone, which meant she’d slipped away.

Once that was discovered—no, there wouldn’t be much time.

Dais crept ever closer, listening to his back trail, well aware the Warlords were closing the distance.

Finally, he was close enough to pick up a clear, distinct voice and he paused, swore.

Of all the fucking individuals to be with the bitch—Elina, her aunt, and Laisyn Caar.

Syn.

She’d been one of Dais’s subordinates right up until the last few conflicts—now she was a captain. She’d taken
his
place.

Damn the bitch.

Damn all three of them.

Witches. They were mounted on some of the battle-trained baerns, and those beasts were viciously protective.

He could take down ungifted soldiers in a heartbeat, but a witch . . . no. He had to proceed with more caution. Especially with Syn. Her gift wasn’t as strong as Elina’s or Lee’s, and because of that, she trained harder, pushed harder—it resulted in a connection to the earth that outmatched all others—maybe even Eira, the old goat, may her soul rot in hell.

He wouldn’t be able to catch Syn by surprise. She was more a soldier than the other two combined, and all she’d need was one glimpse of him and she’d flame his ass.

No. If he had any chance of taking them out, it would have to be a united attack, him and the two Warlords. He’d have to share the glory in claiming this prize . . .

However—

A smile curled his lips.

The Warlords would love to get their hands on a female with Warlord blood, there was no doubt of that.

With the possibility of two more witches . . . and the loss of these three women would cripple Kalen.

Yes.

This could work.

Most definitely, it could work.

He would wait, let the Warlords know he was aware of their presence.

As they made their way to him, he put together a plan.

Lee
and
the two other witches. He knew Warlords—they wouldn’t be able to resist getting their hands on a couple of skilled witches. The fact that all three women were young and attractive simply sweetened the pot. They would very much appreciate the boon he was about to offer them.

Finally.

After all these weeks of chaos, uncertainty and strife, he found himself once more in a position of bargaining.

Laithe listened, his arms crossed over his chest, his mind spinning furiously as Dais outlined his plan.

“You’re certain it is her—this Warlord female—the daughter of Raichar Taise?” he demanded, his voice flat, his blood starting to pump hot in his veins.

Part of him didn’t want to believe it possible.

The other part of him burned—he sensed something. Something strange. Something new. Power, the likes of which he hadn’t felt before. It was cloaked—if it came from the woman, it wasn’t because she’d used her power. She was hiding too well, and if he had been any farther away, he never would have sensed it.

The feel of it had his skin itching.

Dais gave him a small, pleased smile and nodded. “Of course I’m certain it is her,” he said, giving him a deferential nod even though the look in his eyes clearly said,
Yes, I’m certain, you arrogant bastard
.

Laithe flicked his wrist. Dais’s eyes widened at the sight of the blade in his hands. Laithe tossed it in the air, making the silver weapon dance, all without taking his eyes from the man before him. “You realize this is your life you are bargaining with, do you not?”

Lee leaned forward, peering at Elina as she sat on the ground. Syn recognized the vials, powders, potions, but she imagined it looked very strange to the other woman. Lee was still struggling to connect with some of her memories, so it was entirely likely she’d forgotten much of her earlier magic training.

“What is she doing?” Lee asked, frowning.

“Making a barrier.” Syn rubbed her hands down her arms and glanced around. They were outside the base camp’s walls, inside an old shelter that was seldom used. It was built for the scouts to use if the weather took a bad turn on them, but not many chose to stay here. They’d rather make a run for the base camp than linger outside.

Syn wouldn’t mind making a run for it, either.

She felt far too exposed out here. Far too vulnerable.

But they couldn’t do this in the camp.

“We have to keep this contained when we try, thus the barrier.”

Lee planted her hands on her hips, her brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen anybody use
sand
to build a barrier.”

“Yes, you have.” Syn’s lips twitched as she glanced at her friend. “
You
have done it. I remember. It was in your earlier training.”

She shrugged restlessly and started to pace the squeaky wooden floorboards. “We’re going back to the basics here. Not taking any chances. Which means a lot of mental preparation, focus and whatnot. She’s constructing the barrier the same way she’d teach a first-year trainee. Basics.”

“How does using sand construct a barrier for
magic
?” Lee muttered.

Without looking away from her work, Elina called out, “We could try using it to plug our ears so we don’t hear the nattering of my niece, for starters.”

Lee made a face at Elina’s back and moved away, joining Syn in her pacing.

Syn smiled. Keeping her voice low, she said, “It’s not the
sand
—it’s the mental process. She’s grounding herself—we use the physical images to help strengthen our connection.”

“Considering how the energy has gone all kablooey, I don’t think strengthening that connection is all that wise an idea.” Lee leaned back against the wall and absently toyed with the end of her long blond braid. She watched her aunt with concern in her eyes.