Wolfsbane Winter (26 page)

As she approached the jetty of the dock, Alana felt a new bubbling up of emotion, but this was a very human blend of excitement and concern. The sound of voices followed, shouting instructions. She rounded the corner of the dock warehouse and arrived at a scene of hectic activity surrounding the stable. The festival had been abandoned while the revelers worked to put out the fire, but it was clear that the drama was nearly over. The air was acrid with smoke and bundles of smoldering straw littered the ground, but the blaze in the hay shed adjoining the stable was out.

In the corral, over a score of horses were milling nervously back and forth. They were not happy, but they were unharmed. The wave of relief left Alana weak. Having shared their fear, she felt a bond with the horses, although this was a source of concern in itself. In the past, she had always been able to keep a mental distance from animals. Never had she been taken over like that. Why now? Was it a reaction to the strain she had put herself under that night? Was it the number of animals, in the grip of the same utter terror? Or was it that she had been so totally off guard and open? All barriers had been set aside when Deryn’s lips met hers.

Deryn. At the thought of her, Alana closed her eyes. That was something else to worry about, and even more serious. What must Deryn have made of it all? Alana buried her face in her hand, trying to remember exactly what she had said in the grip of the panic. How much had she given away? Would Deryn know that magic was involved? Or would she think—

Alana bit her lip. What? That she had suffered a mental breakdown, linked to a smoke phobia, that by a wild coincidence had occurred at the same time as a fire broke out nearby. Deryn might not realize she had mentally bonded to the horses, but the exact form the magic had taken was irrelevant. At the very least, Deryn must suspect that she had a trace of demon-spawn in her ancestry.

With the fire in the hay shed out, people started to drift away from the stable. The party was due to continue, with a whole new edge of excitement. The force of it battered Alana’s mind. She had to get away, gather her strength, and maybe after a night’s sleep she could work out a plausible explanation for Deryn.

“Good job you spotted the fire when you did.” Regan’s voice was close, but not loud enough to be addressing her.

Alana raised her head. A few feet away, the mayor stood with Deryn.

“Pure luck. Me and Alana were—”

They were both looking at the stable, standing with their backs to Alana. Presumably they had not seen her in the deep shadow. Alana tried to slip away, but the sound of movement caught Deryn’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder and their eyes met. Surprise and confusion were easy to read. Was there also hostility and fear? Before she knew what she was doing, Alana reached out to feel the emotion, but in the overexcited atmosphere of the interrupted festival, picking out Deryn’s thread was impossible.

“You and her were doing what, eh? As if I need ask.” Sergeant Nevin waddled over. His voice held an undertone of crude innuendo. “I saw you creeping off, hand in hand for a quick fuck. It’s what they say about Iron Wolves—anything with a pulse.”

“We were just walking by the river.” Deryn glared at the sergeant in unconcealed dislike and then turned back to Regan. “And we heard the horses neighing.”

“Didn’t hear them in the square.”

“It was quieter by the river, and I’ve got good hearing. I need it for my job.”

Regan patted her arm. “Anyway, it’s a damn good job. Wouldn’t have wanted to lose them.” The mayor smiled and left.

Deryn’s eyes returned to Alana. The doubts were hardening into anger. Even without sensing her emotions, her scowl said it clearly enough. Without another word, Deryn also turned and walked away, back to the town square.

*

Deryn dismounted and stared at Alana’s cottage. Her doubts multiplied. For a moment she thought about getting back on Tia and riding away again, but she had to understand exactly what had happened the night before. She needed answers, and the only person who could give them was Alana.

The cottage was in silence as she approached, but then she heard the rattle of pans inside. Deryn raised her fist and knocked. The rattle stopped at once, but almost a minute passed before the door opened.

Alana’s expression provided half the answers on the spot, not from what was there, but from what was missing, no surprise, no reproach, no confidence.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, Alana stepped back. “Do you want to come in?”

Did she? Would turning around and leaving be the wiser course? Yet wisdom never had been Deryn’s guiding light. She ducked under the doorway.

The room was unchanged from the last time she had been there. Alana went to the same chair and sat, waiting. Her face was impassive, but Deryn read other signs; the rapid pulse beating in her throat, the raised tendons from tightly clasped hands, the paleness of her lips.

Deryn had intended to remain standing, but intimidation was for thugs, and whatever else Alana might be, she was also a beautiful woman who was frightened. Deryn shoved the chair around so that she sat facing Alana rather than the fire.

On the ride up, Deryn had rehearsed her questions a dozen times, and variations on them. Now they all seemed naive, duplicitous, boorish, or out-and-out inane. From Alana’s face, she could tell there was no need to browbeat or trick her way to the answers. They would come. Deryn crossed her arms. She would give Alana the first go at picking the route.

“Have they found out how the fire started?”

Was that really the most important issue on Alana’s mind?

“No. It might have been a spark carried from the bonfire. More likely it was somebody who doesn’t want to own up being careless.”

“There’d be a lot of angry people to own up to.”

“True. Normally only a half dozen horses are in the stable, but a lot of folk had ridden in for the festival.”

Alana nodded, but her eyes were fixed on the wall. She was not interested in details of the fire, any more than Deryn was. Why waste time, skirting around the real issue? Deryn’s mood hardened. She had given Alana a chance. Now it was her turn to call the shots. “How did you know the stable was on fire?”

Alana flinched, but answered steadily. “I sensed the horses’ fear.”

Deryn had guessed as much, leaving only one possible explanation. “Do you know which of your ancestors was demon-spawn?”

“All of them.”

The answer went beyond anything Deryn had expected, or feared. She paused, making sure she had her voice under control. “All? Who are you?”

“Alana”—she paused, catching her lower lip in her teeth—“Quintanilla.”

“You’re related to Lady Kyra?”

“She’s my mother.”

Deryn felt sweat break out on the back of her neck and her pulse speed.
I’m a fool to have come alone.
Not just demon-spawn, but a member of the second most powerful family in Galvonia. “What are you doing here?”

“Like I told you, getting away from Ellaye.”

“Why?”

“I’m an empath. I can feel the emotions of others. The city was overwhelming me. I had to get as far away from as many people as I could.”

“People? It’s not just frightened animals?”

“No.”

“Can you feel my emotions now?”

“Yes.”

The simple answer hit Deryn like a fist of ice in her gut. She looked down trying to calm her breathing, fighting the urge to flee.
Don’t let her see you’re frightened.
But was there any way to hide it?

“You’re reading my mind?”

“No. It’s not like that.” Alana’s sigh was somewhere between weariness and defiance. “I know that you’re scared and angry, and think I’ve cheated you. You feel betrayed and invaded. But I could work that out from looking at your face and using a bit of common sense. It’s how anyone would feel in your place.”

“But you could tell if I was trying to hide something.”

“Depends. Maybe I’d pick up on your anxiety. But even if I did I couldn’t be sure of the cause, and I certainly wouldn’t know whatever the something was. Maybe you have an important secret. Maybe you want to fart and are worried about making a noise.”

The attempt at humor failed. Deryn stared at her hands, resisting the urge to ball them into fists. This was not something she could fight, but nor was there any point in acting calm. Alana would know exactly what she was feeling. That had been the case since the first time they met. No wonder Alana had been able to draw so much out of her.
She got inside your head.
Deryn had thought the same words before, but she had not realized the literal truth of them.
The demon-spawn bitch toyed with you, like a cat with a mouse
. The thought was intolerable. How could she stand this? How could anyone?

Deryn raised her head. “Was that why your partner left you?”

“Reyna? No. She was demon-spawn too. We were lovers in Ellaye. She moved up here with me, but didn’t love me enough to stay, once it became clear I could never go back.”

Alana’s story had holes. How much was she still hiding? “Why did you come here?”

“I told you. I can’t cope with loads of people, they drown me out.”

“But you used to live in Ellaye, so what changed?”

“The king’s high counselor, Orrin, supposedly tried to help me.”

“Supposedly?”

“I think it was more a case of getting rid of a potential rival. I used to be able to block everyone out of my head. I had barriers, but he destroyed them. I would have gone mad if I’d stayed in Ellaye.”

“It wasn’t because your family didn’t want you snooping around inside their heads either?”

“No. I sense your cynicism, and your anger and fear. And I don’t blame you for feeling any of them. But believe me, if I could shut you out of my head, I would. Can’t you imagine what’s it like, being swamped by other people? Half the time, I don’t know what I’m feeling on my own account and what I’m picking up from others. I lose myself. At the moment I’m feeling really angry, but I suspect it isn’t me. I’m absorbing it from you. What have I got to be angry about, except that you’re blaming me for things I didn’t want and didn’t choose and are hurting me far more than they hurt you?” Alana’s shoulders slumped. “I just want to be me and nobody else.”

“Easy for you to say that.”

“It’s the truth. With all my family’s money, do you think I’d be living alone in a decrepit shack like this if I didn’t have to? Do you think I enjoy living like a louse-ridden peasant?”

“I only have your word on who you are and why you’re here.”

“How dare you accuse me of lying.” Alana reached up and clasped the silver pendant at her throat. Her eyes closed while the fury slowly left her face. At last she opened them again and met Deryn’s gaze. “So what are you going to do?” Her voice was calm and resigned, a half shade from despair.

“Do?”

“Are you going to tell people in Neupor about me?”

“What if I do?”

“Then I couldn’t stay here. I wouldn’t be safe. So, if you are going to tell people, I’d rather you did it while the weather is still good enough for me to travel.”

Some folk, with less justification than Deryn, might try to hurt Alana if they knew the truth. That was undeniable, and at the thought, Deryn felt her anger ebb. But did she care what happened to any of the demon-spawn? She stood and went to the doorway. Outside, Tia was grazing on a patch of grass.

“Last night, when you started acting odd, at first I was confused. I thought you were having a fit. Then you neighed and ran off. If it had just been the running off, I’d have gone after you. But the neighing? There’s a limit to how weird I’ll put up with. I let you go. But I was”—Deryn bit her lip, searching for a word she could admit to—“upset. And you’d put me in mind of Tia. I thought I’d check her before I went back to the festival. Which is how I found the fire.”

Deryn recalled walking back along the path, battling with hurt and rejection, thinking that if she could not hold Alana, she wanted to hold someone or something she could care about. Then there had been the horror when she saw the flames lapping the side of the stable. It was a barrage of remembered emotion. How much of it was Alana now reading? Did she know how much Deryn had wanted her? The desolation after she had run off? The pathetic joke where an Iron Wolf needed to hug her horse for comfort?

Deryn stamped down on the memories and turned back to face Alana. “If it hadn’t been for you, Tia would have burned to death. I owe you. I’ll keep my mouth shut, and we can call it quits.”

“Thank you.” Alana’s eyes again met hers.

Deryn caught her breath.
I almost became her lover.

Alana was still sitting in her chair, hands clasped in her lap. She was demon-spawn, and she was alone and vulnerable. The last of Deryn’s anger slipped away. Alana’s lips were just as kissable as before.
I can’t still want her, can I?
Dammit. Is Nevin right? Anything with a pulse?
Before she could give in to the urge to wrap Alana in her arms, Deryn turned on her heel and left.

Was there any sadder state for an Iron Wolf to be reduced to than playing solitaire? Apart from anything else, it brought to mind all the tired old jokes about playing with yourself, and giving yourself a good hand. None of which Deryn found in the slightest bit funny. She muttered a string of obscenities, prompted by frustration, irritation, and plain out-and-out boredom. As ever, the universe was indifferent to her swearing. Nothing changed. Deryn scowled as she dealt the top row of cards out on the table.