Page 9 of Bloodkin


  If I believed that, everything we had ever done was useless.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  He took my hand and squeezed it. “None of this is your fault.”

  But it is, I thought. If we hadn’t involved ourselves, Jeshickah never would have connected the plague with your people. Malachi and I would probably be dead. Vance certainly would be. I am not sorry we chose to stay alive … but I am sorry that you are the one who will pay for it.

  Shane shot to his feet and started forward before I realized anything was wrong. As I followed, I began to hear shouting, and recognized Vance’s voice. It was too soon for him to have made it to Midnight, negotiated a deal, and returned to us, but he was here anyway, pushing his way past the guards, toward the temple.

  “You can’t just—”

  “Let go of me,” Vance snapped at the guards who were trying to restrain him. “Unless you want to discuss the definition of ‘impeding trade.’ ”

  Vance’s dark hair had come out of its tie and was rumpled around his face, not quite concealing the scratches on his cheek and jaw. Some of them were still bleeding. Those crimson beads brought a sick feeling to the pit of my stomach, as if they portended far worse to come.

  The guards, who had hesitated at Vance’s words, drew back to let their prince pass.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Shane demanded, grabbing Vance’s arm before he could storm into the sakkri’s receiving room.

  “That is what I would like to know,” Vance answered. Raising his voice, he called, “Are you in there?”

  The older sakkri emerged and looked at Vance, and then Shane. “What can I do for you now, mercenary child of blood?”

  Vance frowned at the appellation. “Odd name to give me, when you are the one who is trying so hard to sell your prince into slavery—or so you say. Do you think Midnight is going to be swayed by a ruse like this?”

  “What are you talking about?” Shane asked.

  “I’m talking,” Vance bit out, “about the fact that the forest will not let me pass. It wouldn’t even let me above the treetops to fly. It nearly broke my wing knocking me to the ground, and then gave me these.” He tilted his head and brushed his hair back. In the light, the cuts and new bruises down the side of his face looked even worse.

  I had been worried about him going to Midnight. I had never even stopped to wonder if he was safe in the Shantel forest. How many of the Shantel believed, like Marcel, that the Obsidian guild was responsible for their current predicament? How many of them thought Vance and I were traitors?

  “The forest answers to the sakkri,” Vance said, “so I want to hear what they have to say.”

  The sakkri stepped forward and reached toward Vance, who jerked back.

  “I just want to check the wound,” she said.

  “Let me,” I said, stepping between the sakkri and Vance. It would be a long time before he would let another Shantel magic user put hands on him, even when it was supposedly for his own good.

  “It’s fine,” Vance said, shaking me off. “I want to know why it happened in the first place.”

  “I am sorry you were wounded on our behalf,” the sakkri said. “I did not intend it.”

  “You, singular?” I asked. “What about your sister?”

  “I am certain she did not wish a guest to come to harm either,” she responded, “but she is indisposed at the moment, so I cannot ask.”

  “Is she ill?” Shane asked, the concern in his voice comical. With everything else going on, his anxiety over the sakkri’s sniffles seemed overblown.

  The older sakkri shook her head. “Sometimes the power speaks very loudly. It can be overwhelming, especially when one has just come into the visions, as my sister has.”

  “So, if you didn’t mean to stop him,” I said, interrupting, “and your sister didn’t, and the entire royal family is behind this mission, then why wasn’t Vance allowed to pass?” A more personal concern struck me. “Are we trapped here now? I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that if Midnight burns this forest, I do not want to be in it.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Shane said, with the absolute certainty of a man who has never doubted his power or his place in the world. “Vance, what exactly happened?”

  I remembered Shane’s description of his tie to the people on his land, and how he could sense an intruder crossing the border. “Shouldn’t you already know?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I love my people, but I have been working very hard not to feel the way they do about the current situation. Thanks to years of study in the temple, I can do that … mostly. I’ve been sensing their anger and grief for days. If I felt the attack on Vance, I didn’t notice it as anything different.”

  “All I know,” Vance answered, “is that one moment I was flying, and the next, something hit me hard enough that I blacked out. I woke up just outside the village.”

  Remembering the argument we had witnessed earlier, I said to the sakkri, “You and your sister seem to disagree about this plan. Could her magic be overriding yours?” I knew the Shantel men had objected to the idea that the two sakkri might not agree, but surely someone had to recognize there was some dissonance here.

  Some of the guards who had run toward the ruckus looked like they would object to my question, but the sakkri answered first. “She does not like this plan, but we both understand what we must do to survive. She would not sabotage that.”

  “Someone did,” Vance pointed out. “You’re damn lucky I’m trying to help you, and not actually on Midnight’s payroll. What do you think would have happened if your magic had assaulted one of the vampires?”

  There is no luck in the Shantel woods, I thought.

  “If our power had turned on one of the blood-drinkers,” the sakkri replied calmly, “it would not have brought him, mostly uninjured, to the Family Courtyard. The forest did not want you to leave, but it knows you are not an enemy.”

  “Stop blaming trees,” I snapped. Vance already held a grudge, and didn’t trust the Shantel. If we didn’t sort this out quickly, he would give up on helping them, no matter what he might get out of it. I wasn’t in any position to go to Midnight and negotiate on the Shantel’s behalf on my own, and I couldn’t stand to just walk away—assuming I even could leave anymore. “The Shantel have never traded with Midnight before. Whether or not you think this is necessary, I’m sure none of you thinks it’s a good idea. Maybe the forest is responding to your desires, instead of your commands. Either way, I’m sure the sakkri can control it. One of you can escort us—”

  “The sakkri doesn’t leave Shantel land,” Shane reflexively interrupted.

  “The sakkri is going to burn with the rest of us if we don’t do something differently,” I replied.

  “If Shane travels with us, and the sakkri leads us, we can all reach the edge of Midnight’s land together,” Vance suggested. “Shane and the sakkri can stay behind while I go ahead to make the deal. That way, once the arrangements have been made, we don’t have to worry about any of us being stuck in the forest.”

  “No,” Shane protested vehemently. “I am not going to bring her—” He broke off, dropped his gaze, and took a deep breath. “I’ll speak to my father and see if he has any other thoughts. In the morning, we will all confer to make sure we are all in agreement,” he continued, looking at the older sakkri, “and then I alone will accompany you and Kadee out of Shantel land.”

  I knew how the Shantel felt about their sakkri, and I was not surprised that Shane would flat-out refuse to let one of them bring us out of this forest. A royal escort should prove just as effective … but none of this should have happened in the first place.

  Vance and I exchanged a skeptical glance. I shrugged. It was probably the best offer we would get at this point.

  “I will meet you in the Family home in the morning,” Shane said as he turned to leave.

  With those words, he left the two of us alone with the sakkri.

&nbsp
; “If Shane is the one supposedly leading us out of the forest, and he decides that he does not want to sell himself into Midnight, what happens?” I asked.

  “Shane is a prince dedicated to his people,” the sakkri replied. “Our magic will respond to his will and his deeply set beliefs, not to his fears and whims.”

  “That’s nicely optimistic,” Vance remarked. “Kadee, where do we sleep around here? I’m exhausted.”

  I glanced at the sakkri, but she had already turned back to the temple, dismissing us.

  “This way.” Marcel had stayed out of the way during my conversations with Shane and the deathwitch, but now stepped up again to act as escort. “I am sure the Family will allow you to stay in the royal home if you wish, but we also have campsites, which are normally used by traveling merchants. I suspect children of Obsidian would be more comfortable there.”

  “Thank you,” Vance said, looking at Marcel with curiosity.

  There was a long pause, during which I wondered if I should introduce them. I ended up saying, “Vance, this is Marcel. She …” She kidnapped me once. “She’s our escort while we are here.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Vance said, in a questioning tone that said he had heard the hesitation in my voice, and wasn’t sure whether or not he was supposed to dislike Marcel. He started to offer his hand and then withdrew it, his eyes taking in the marks of power along Marcel’s skin.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet another wanderer,” Marcel replied. If Vance’s refusal to shake her hand offended her, she did not show the emotion. “You are a long way from the home of your blood.”

  Vance shook his head incredulously, not deigning to comment, and Marcel led us to the merchants’ campsite. Each site had a lean-to–style tent set next to a fire ring. Heavy trunks inside each shelter held additional supplies, which were available for visitors.

  I could imagine how busy this place might be when full. Now it was utterly quiet. Once Marcel bid us good night and left us on our own, Vance started to build up the fire, and I removed an extra set of blankets from the chest. It was warm enough here in the village that I didn’t need any bedding beyond the soft ground, but when Vance slept in human form, he always liked to be so covered he was practically sweltering.

  If he thought we were ready to sleep, though, he was mistaken. We needed to talk first. I wasn’t going to let him run off alone again. I was willing to give him a little time to think, and let him bring up the subject first, but we weren’t going to close our eyes until I had spoken my mind.

  WE WERE HALFWAY through dinner before I lost patience and asked, “Are we going to talk about why you stormed out of here earlier?”

  “I didn’t storm out. I …” He avoided looking at me as he said, “I wouldn’t have come here if I knew what the Shantel would ask of us. Maybe that makes me a coward. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t have to go,” I said, though I had begun to feel obligated to the Shantel. “We can meet up with the others, and I’ll go with Farrell or Malachi—” I broke off as I remembered Malachi’s last trip to Midnight, when Jeshickah had locked him in a cell and held him hostage until we brought back a cure for her trainers.

  “Not Malachi,” Vance said before I could amend my words. “And not Farrell either.”

  I wondered if he was thinking about Lucas’s warning: Watch your back. “Then we’ll go—together,” I said firmly.

  “I saw the look in your eyes,” he said. “When I asked what they were offering, you turned to me, and it was like I had just slapped you.”

  “You asked the questions that needed to be asked,” I said. “I’m grateful for that, because I want to help the Shantel, and I know I can’t do that on my own. If I looked horrified, it’s because I am, by this situation. The Shantel can be arrogant, but they do not deserve to burn for daring to stand up to Midnight. That is what horrifies me—not you.”

  Vance still looked skeptical. “The funny thing is,” he said in a tone that suggested there was nothing funny about it, “you and Lucas both act like I know what I’m doing. I knew there were slaves when I lived in Midnight, of course, but I didn’t ever witness the trading. Everything I know about negotiating comes from seeing Lady Brina or Lord Daryl argue with merchants or witches about the price of painting supplies, or the spells on the greenhouse. I never thought I would apply those skills to people.”

  I reached out, and he let me take his hand and lean against him. I could feel the heat of his body, so much warmer than any serpent, even through our clothes. His heart was pounding.

  “I don’t want to take you into that place,” he said. “I’m doing this because … well, because I’m probably an idiot, but I think it’s the right thing to do. It’s the only option we have that doesn’t involve running away like cowards from a problem we helped create. But I don’t want to show you the people I used to know. The ones who knew me.”

  I let out a dismissive huff. “You don’t need to take me anywhere. I’ll go on my own—my choice.”

  Vance shook his head, so his long hair tickled my cheek. “Child of Obsidian,” he said, with a good deal more fondness than any outsider. “You take that more seriously than most of the guild.”

  “I can’t speak for everyone, but I learned it all from Farrell. Shkei told me about the Obsidian guild when I was still living among the serpiente, but it was like a fairy tale. Farrell made it real for me.”

  Vance shrugged off my attempt to credit the founder of our guild. “When you and Malachi first brought me back to the Obsidian camp, I think Farrell would have kicked me out if he had been willing to break his own edict against taking charge. He obviously didn’t trust me. You’re why I joined, and why I stayed. You made me believe we really could be free. We could make our own decisions, and didn’t need to decide between ruling and being ruled. It isn’t easy, but it’s good.”

  It isn’t easy, but it’s good. That was what I needed to hold on to.

  We passed a restless night. The morning felt like it dawned too early, yet when we went to the Family home, we were informed by the older sakkri and Lucas that Shane had already gone to the temple.

  As we entered the temple, Shane and the younger sakkri were in the back room. Their murmuring voices reached us.

  “We have had this conversation a thousand times,” Shane said. “It’s the only way. If Midnight—”

  “Midnight doesn’t have the power to burn this forest!” she protested. “We are safe here.”

  “We don’t know that,” he replied. “Even you have said you do not know what magic they may have at their disposal, and your sister says the danger is real if we continue to ignore Midnight.”

  “This isn’t the time,” she insisted. “There is a moment. I cannot see it clearly yet, but it will come. The players are moving into place. But if you go now, Midnight will destroy you before the white queen rises.”

  “We cannot delay anymore. I cannot risk everyone for—”

  The sakkri’s words about a white queen drew me forward like lodestone, and my shoulder brushed the dangling tendrils of a chime hanging from the ceiling, sending it dancing. At the sound, Shane stopped. He reached to hold the curtain aside, and both of their gazes fell heavily on us.

  The sakkri said to Shane, “I will do what I can to ensure you travel safely. I—” She glanced at Vance and me once more before she said, “Go. All of you. Just go.”

  She turned her back to us until Shane grabbed my arm and Vance’s and ushered us both out.

  “She does not seem entirely convinced,” I remarked as neutrally as I could.

  The exchange also hadn’t seemed like a conversation between a prince and his spiritual advisor … but what did I really know about the royal family’s connection to the sakkri? Maybe that was how they always interacted.

  Somehow, I doubted it.

  “The mind can be convinced by rational arguments,” Shane answered. “The heart and soul are not as easy to sway. I wouldn’t say my heart is entirely convinced I want t
o do this either.”

  I wanted to ask about the sakkri’s reference to a “white queen,” but Shane turned from us to lead the way and, I suspected, to hide the tears in his eyes. One thing had been clear: the Shantel prophet was convinced that, no matter what might happen to Midnight, this was the end for Shane. He was sacrificing himself to save his people, not to save himself.

  “You two ride, correct?” Shane asked as we reached a small stable with a half dozen horses. I nodded in response to Shane’s question. Vance asked, “I thought it wasn’t safe to ride in the Shantel forest.”

  “It usually isn’t,” Shane answered. “We can. Our horses were bred and raised in this forest, like any Shantel woman or man.”

  At that point, it seemed like anything that would get us to Midnight faster would be a relief to me.

  The thought made me cringe. I did not want to die with the Shantel when Midnight took its revenge, and getting out of this forest and to Midnight seemed like the best way to save ourselves—and possibly them. But the notion of wanting to not only get to Midnight, but get there swiftly, was disturbing.

  I did not know the breed of the horses that Shane saddled for us, but the prince himself brushed each one down and greeted it by name before introducing them to us. Vance responded as if meeting a dear friend, and cheerfully offered a treat to his horse, Yarrow, when Shane provided one.

  When he swung up into the saddle, I saw him the way Midnight’s people must have seen him: handsome, strong, and casually confident on horseback. He could have been a centaur instead of a quetzal. If he was nervous about the task at hand, he hid it well.

  I regarded my own horse, Sadie, with less enthusiasm. I had learned to ride at the serpiente palace, but that had been long ago, and I hadn’t much enjoyed it. This horse was a mottled gray-brown color, like the leaves that fell to the forest floor, and seemed to look at me with more intelligence than I had ever seen in an animal.