Wintercraft: Blackwatch (24 page)

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Authors: Jenna Burtenshaw

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Wintercraft: Blackwatch
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‘What are you doing?’ demanded Edgar.
 
‘One of the many tasks I was sent here to perform. Please, make yourselves comfortable. We will not have to wait long.’
 
Kate did not like the expression on the man’s face. It was a look of secret triumph and it made her uncomfortable.
 
‘We’re sorry about the mess on your floor,’ she said, tugging Edgar’s sleeve and leading him towards the door. ‘We appreciate your not turning us in, but we’re not who you think we are. We’re just passing through, aren’t we?’ She nudged Edgar’s arm.
 
‘Yes. Er … thanks for that,’ he said. ‘Bye then.’
 
The man watched them all the way to the door. Kate half expected him to try to block their way, but there was no need. The door was locked.
 
‘I find it is always best to be prepared,’ he said, drawing a long blade from a sheath hidden within his clothes. ‘For the past year I have acted as a servant to the lady of this cavern, but my true purpose here is far greater. I have seen your face, girl. I know who you are. You are not going anywhere.’
 
‘Yes, we are,’ said Edgar, rattling the door handle. ‘You’d better come over here and unlock this door right now, before things turn nasty.’
 
‘Do you think I am afraid of a worm like you?’ said the man. ‘If your face was not also known to me, you would be dead already.’
 
‘Well, that’s good to know,’ said Edgar. ‘Now, are you going to open this door?’
 
‘In my own time. Once my countrymen arrive.’
 
‘You’re with them,’ said Kate, suddenly realising how much danger she and Edgar were in. ‘The Blackwatch. You’re one of them, aren’t you?’
 
‘That is very true,’ said the man. ‘We have been looking for you.’
 
‘Kate, head for the window,’ said Edgar. ‘I’ve got this.’
 
‘No, there’s no point. Who knows how many agents they have out there?’
 
‘We still have to try.’
 
‘No,’ said the man. ‘You don’t. It is too late for that.’
 
Shadows moved along the pathway outside and the silhouettes of a group of men passed across the window. One of them already had the key. The door opened slowly, pushed open by the point of a long blade, and the Blackwatch’s leader stepped inside. Kate backed towards the bed and Edgar stood between her and the advancing men. There was nothing either of them could do. The agent’s eyes were vicious, his teeth bared in a wolfish smile.
 
‘The hunt is over,’ he said. ‘Your lives are mine now.’
 
15
 
The Price
 
 
 
 
 
Dalliah waited for Silas’s answer. There was no real choice to make, and he knew it. Even there on the Continent, Dalliah was clearly Skilled enough to work the veil in ways he had never seen. She could easily have used that ability against him to get what she wanted, so the only real question was why she had even asked him at all.
 
Even if the veil was falling, there was no telling what kind of damage interfering with it could do, and there was no guarantee that Dalliah’s plan would even work. All she had was a theory, yet she seemed willing to gamble the entire balance of life and death upon a plan whose best outcome would only benefit two living souls. Silas could not deny the reward was tempting. To regain his spirit after so long was something he would do almost anything to achieve. Now was the moment for him to take a gamble. He had to buy himself more time.
 
‘I will help you,’ he said finally, all too aware of what giving his word to Dalliah could mean. ‘But
he
should have no part in this.’
 
‘Bandermain’s presence here is not open for negotiation,’ said Dalliah. ‘He will stay because I demand it.’
 
‘Why? What use can he be to us?’
 
‘The arrangement we have has not yet been fulfilled. He knows where his loyalties lie.’
 
Bandermain’s eyes were heavy and a vein in his forehead pulsed noticeably beneath his skin. His eyebrows knitted together as he rolled his shoulders back, trying to make himself appear strong and healthy.
 
‘Celador?’ Silas said, as Bandermain’s eyes met his with a feral look. ‘How long have you been like this?’
 
‘Not all of us are as blessed as you,’ said Bandermain. There was venom in his voice, and he was about to say something else when the words were lost in a sudden flurry of racking coughs. Flecks of blood speckled his lips and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
 
‘The details are unimportant,’ said Dalliah, turning away. ‘Suffice to say, Officer Bandermain requires my assistance in order to maintain his health and in return he has pledged the services of himself and his men to our cause. The Continental leaders have given the Blackwatch orders to infiltrate Albion and cripple the High Council. I have no interest in getting in their way. They will continue to follow those orders. All I ask is that they follow a few of mine at the same time.’
 
‘Whatever you have done for him does not seem to be working,’ said Silas.
 
‘His health is not your concern,’ said Dalliah. ‘He has done everything I have asked, and at the end of all this he shall receive his reward.’
 
Bandermain began to speak, but he coughed again, trying and failing to hold back the spasms that strained his lungs, forcing his fingers to claw at the cupboard beside him. As one of the Skilled, Dalliah could have taken his pain away in moments, but instead she just watched him impassively.
 
‘This is how you treat your allies?’ asked Silas.
 
‘Bandermain knew what to expect,’ said Dalliah. ‘His sickness must sometimes be allowed to carry him close to death if he is to be of any use to me.’
 
‘And he agreed to this?’
 
Bandermain had given up trying to look well and was concentrating solely upon breathing instead.
 
‘He has proved himself strong enough for what I require,’ said Dalliah. ‘Every fifth day he must allow himself to move close to death. He has endured the experience many times. He will survive long enough to see this through.’
 
‘He is certainly dying,’ said Silas. ‘Any fool could see that.’
 
‘I’m not … dead … yet,’ said Bandermain, looking up at him.
 
Silas smiled coldly. ‘Entertaining as it would be to watch you dance with death, I could gladly save you the suffering and send you on your way.’
 
‘You … would not … understand,’ said Bandermain. ‘I do … what is necessary.’
 
Dalliah placed a hand on Bandermain’s shoulder. At first Silas thought she was going to heal him, or at least ease his suffering, but her touch was not a caring one. It was one of ownership. If anything, Bandermain looked worse the longer she stood with him, as if she were somehow actively taking his life away from him. Silas did not know how that could be possible. He had never heard of anyone who was capable of such a thing.
 
Bandermain noticeably weakened before Silas’s eyes, but he faced the experience with a soldier’s steadfast will. Silas was intrigued that he could allow his soul and his body to be abused in such a way. Whatever reward Dalliah had promised him, it was worth enduring near-death to possess.
 
‘This affliction of yours. Is it contagious?’ Silas asked. ‘Have you been spreading your germ-ridden filth around your own streets?’
 
Bandermain coughed blood, leaving Dalliah to answer.
 
‘He is infected with the creeping lung,’ she said.
 
Silas instinctively took a step back. ‘You let him walk out amongst people with the creeping lung? Either cure him or kill him. And burn the corpse before it is cold!’
 
‘No,’ said Dalliah.
 
‘He is a walking plague!’
 
‘He has only just entered the final stages. There is at least another day before he becomes severely contagious.’
 
‘Then cure him and be done with it.’
 
‘No. He has agreed to this.’
 
‘No one
agrees
to suffer the creeping lung.’
 
‘When we met, he was already ravaged by the disease,’ said Dalliah. ‘He owes me his life. What he is doing now could well allow the Continent to end this war. He is serving his country the best way he can.’
 
Silas felt something crackle on the air. The veil was settling across the room, attracted to the promise of Bandermain’s imminent death. Frost sparkled upon Dalliah’s fingertips and Silas realised what she was doing. The creeping lung was a slow and painful death. Even the most capable among the Skilled had difficulty curing it, and the process of dying could drag on for days unless someone showed enough compassion to kill the infected. Dalliah was using Bandermain as a magnet, exploiting the veil’s attraction to him in order to strengthen her own link to it. There was no telling how long he had been infected by the disease. Dalliah could have been keeping him alive for weeks, strengthening his body just enough to make sure death could not take him.
 
Dalliah stood listening to something within the veil. Silas felt it reaching out to him, but this time he did not enter it with her.
 
‘You were right, Officer Bandermain,’ she said. ‘Your men have done well.’
 
Bandermain stood up as straight as his chest would allow. ‘They … have her?’
 
Dalliah nodded once. ‘They do.’
 
Bandermain smiled a bloodied grin of triumph. ‘Then all of this … will be worthwhile.’
 
‘Congratulations on a successful hunt,’ said Silas.
 
‘The prize shall benefit us all. If Dalliah is right … that girl’s life … is worth more than rubies.’
 
‘Her life is not important,’ Silas corrected him. ‘We intend to take her soul.’
 
Bandermain shrugged. ‘They are one and the same.’
 
‘No,’ said Silas. ‘They are not.’
 
‘With the girl safe, we are ready to begin,’ said Dalliah, withdrawing her consciousness from the veil. ‘The boy she travels with. Do you know him well?’
 
‘I know enough to never underestimate his ingenuity or his stupidity,’ said Silas.
 
‘The two of them have become closer than I had anticipated,’ said Dalliah. ‘It appears Kate has claimed the boy, though neither of them appears to be aware of it yet.’
 
‘Claimed?’
 
‘It is an old technique. One that might have caused problems for us if I had not become aware of their bond weeks ago,’ said Dalliah. ‘When I first knew the Winters family, their Skill was already turning away from the healing and communicative arts to those involving spirit, blood and sacrifice. The warning at the front of
Wintercraft
was written by a Winters for all of the Winters who were yet to be born.
Those who wish to see the dark, be ready to pay your price
. Those are not just empty words. They were written because the family were already descending deeper into areas of veil study that not even other Walkers would dare to attempt. Kate is apparently no different. By not training her to control the veil, the Skilled have forced her to act upon instinct instead; a dangerous path for a Winters. Your bond with her was created through blood, but her link with the boy is equally important. He has become both her greatest distraction and her greatest strength. His presence grounds her to the world of the living, preventing her from realising her potential and protecting her from the more damaging abilities she does not yet know that she possesses. Her spirit has chosen him as its focus for now. She has become protective of him. He must be removed from her at the right time if she is to do what we require of her. If they are separated too soon, she will be more difficult to control.
 
‘My men … know what to do,’ said Bandermain.
 
‘I do not doubt it,’ said Dalliah. ‘Silas, are you ready to do your part?’
 
‘I am.’
 
‘Then remain here while I prepare for the girl’s arrival,’ said Dalliah. ‘I require nothing more from you at this time. Do not leave this room until I come for you. Will you obey?’
 
Silas nodded his agreement.
 
‘You know what is at stake,’ said Dalliah. ‘We will do what must be done.’

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