“Should be good enough,” Jaker said.
The men all dropped to their knees, opened the portfolio, and began unfolding nested sheaves of paper. Fairly soon, nearly a third of the open floor was covered with a meticulously detailed map of the entire country of Welce. Barlow was down toward the southeastern edge and Jaker knelt diagonally from him, at the northwestern border that ended at the ocean.
“This is Chialto, of course,” Barlow said, tapping at the colorful concentration of streets and landmarks close to the southern border. “Anyone headed to the northwestern ports would start out on this road.” He traced a route that crossed one of the canal bridges and angled upward.
“And that’s good for the first day, day and a half,” Jaker took up. “But then they’ll hit a roadblock. The main bridge washed out just a nineday ago, and when they went to fix it, they found rot on the supports at both banks. It won’t be repaired for maybe a quintile.”
Barlow stretched himself out to indicate a different route on the map. “Most people, especially those with big vehicles, will turn north to get around the impasse,” he said. “Those roads are good, but they meander, and they double back east before going west again. Travelers will lose a day.”
“At least,” Jaker agreed. He pointed at the place where the obstruction had occurred. “But there’s a southern route. Narrow road, not very well-maintained. Only the locals use it. But it hooks up with the main road a lot quicker than the northern way. Problem is, you can’t send anything bigger than a one-horse cart or a two-man elaymotive over that ground. If you wanted to send a hundred soldiers that way, you’d need fifty cars.”
“I can conscript any vehicle in the city, if I want to,” Darien said, his voice like ice. “I could send a thousand cars.”
“Then that’s the way you should go,” said Jaker.
Darien glanced at the window, which showed nothing but inky black; even the last pink traces of sunset had disappeared. “Will they travel through the night?”
“Unlikely,” Jaker said. “Twenty miles outside of the city, the road gets rough enough that it’s tricky to travel if you can’t gauge the conditions. Even seasoned travelers wait till sunrise to go on. We do.”
“Then I have time to assemble my troops and I can wait till first light to send them out.”
“That’s what I’d do,” Jaker said.
Darien nodded and sat back on his heels. For a moment, he surveyed the traders. “Is there somewhere else you need to be?” he asked. “Or can you come with us and serve as guides? I’ll pay you.”
“We’ll come, of course,” Jaker said quietly.
“No need for pay,” Barlow added.
“Good,” said Darien. “The servants will get you settled. If you’ll excuse me, I have an army to organize.”
• • •
The next few hours were controlled chaos. Josetta and Virrie were still in the sickroom, and the servants were overwhelmed, so Leah found herself de facto head of household. She conferred with the housekeeper to determine where each new visitor would sleep, gave the cook instructions about what food to prepare and when to serve it, and made sure messengers found Darien and medical supplies made their way to Taro’s room. The incessant activity served to distract her, just the tiniest bit, from the continual anguished wailing in her head. She was terrified for Mally, heartbroken over Chandran, breathless with panic, and numb with fear. So she moved through the house answering questions, making decisions, trying to maintain some scrap of sanity, but it was the hardest stretch of time she had ever endured.
Once she got Jaker and Barlow established in a room, she went to check on Taro. Her quiet knock was immediately followed by an invitation to enter, but she paused from sheer shock the minute she stepped across the threshold. It was as if she’d passed through an invisible curtain humming with life and into a chamber of crackling energy. She felt her scalp prickle as her hair lifted; her skin seemed to carry a static charge. The very air of the room seemed to buzz with activity just below the level of sound. The lighting was muted, just a few wall sconces turned to a low setting, but a faint phosphorescent glow seemed to cling to the walls, the furniture, the bodies of the people bending over the bed.
Leah blinked twice trying to focus on the six individuals in the room. Taro was a large, unmoving shape under the thin covers; the slow, labored breathing had to be coming from him, though his chest barely rose with each inhalation. Leah was not surprised to see Josetta acting as nurse, checking his pulse and smoothing down a bandage; and, of course, she’d known Virrie would be sitting right beside Taro, clutching his hand. But they weren’t the ones whose presence had filled the room with that strange light, that tingling energy. Those traces of evanescent magic were coming from the three primes.
Zoe hovered near the middle of the bed, her hand flattened on Taro’s chest, as if she was forcing blood into his heart and back out through every compromised vein and artery. Nelson, who must have arrived while Leah was closeted with Darien, had pulled up a chair near the headboard; he had laid his hands on either side of Taro’s skull, and he stared down at Taro’s face in fierce concentration. Calling back Taro’s wandering mind, perhaps, reminding Taro of who he was, where he was, how intensely he was loved. Securing his consciousness to the living world, not letting it slip away into the realm of death.
Mirti Serlast stood near the foot of the bed, one hand wrapped around Taro’s ankle. She was a thin, spare woman of no particular grace or beauty, but she looked strong as an oak and as intransigent as bone. Leah had never had many dealings with the hunti prime, but there was something indomitable about her, something absolutely unbreakable. If Taro could be made whole again by touch alone, Mirti would be the one to work the miracle.
Only Josetta looked up when Leah stepped in, and she gave the slighest nod in recognition. Leah moved quietly through the room so she could fold Virrie in a hug. The older woman sagged against her for a moment, her hand coming up to clutch Leah’s arm.
“How is he?” Leah murmured into her ear.
“Holding on,” Virrie answered in a low voice. “But only because of them.”
“Is Kayle Dochenza coming?”
“We believe he’s on his way,” Josetta answered. “But it might be midnight or later before he arrives.” She adjusted a blanket over Taro’s shoulders. “I think he may have a punctured lung,” she added. “Mirti has healed the broken rib, but we need Kayle to ease his breathing.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Leah asked. “Bring you food? Water? Anything?”
“The servants have kept us well-supplied,” Josetta answered.
Virrie stirred in her arms. “Mally?” she asked urgently. “Is there any news?”
Leah fought down the panic that threatened to rise again. “No news,” she said, “but a plan of sorts. We think the Karkans have taken her and are heading to a northwestern port. Zoe’s trader friends Jaker and Barlow know a faster route there. We’ll take soldiers at dawn and follow them.”
Now Zoe wrenched her attention away from Taro. “Jaker and Barlow—you couldn’t be in better hands,” she said. “But if you show up with soldiers, won’t they—aren’t you afraid—”
It was such an effort to speak calmly. “They might hurt Mally. Yes,” she answered. “But my friend Chandran. The one who’s been working in the shop with me. He—it turns out he—there is some history between him and the Karkans. He believes he can be—he says—” She had to pause for a moment to get her voice under control. “He believes they will trade Mally for him.”
Now Josetta gave her a sharp look. “What? Why would they do that?”
Leah just shook her head. “It’s too complicated to explain right now. But he’ll come with us in the morning.”
Virrie leaned her head against Leah. “You’re going with them, of course.”
“I have to be the first one to see Mally,??
? she said. I have to be the last one to see Chandran.
“But I don’t understand. About Chandran,” Josetta said urgently. “You can’t— He can’t—”
“I know,” Leah interrupted. “But he is insisting.”
Just then, Taro gave a low groan and tried to resettle himself on the bed. Instantly, everyone’s focus was on him. Leah gave Virrie another squeeze and released her, then she quietly let herself out of the room. It was amazing how strange she felt once she closed the door behind her, as if her limbs had gained fifty pounds and her mind was suddenly clouded over. She took a moment to steady herself, then headed downstairs to see what new arrival was causing a small commotion at the front door.
She had just made it to the bottom story when two people surged in from the kierten. Rhan and Beccan. Without thinking, she ran to them with her arms outstretched, and the three of them came together in one long, hard embrace.
“Tell us quickly—Taro? And Mally! What’s happening?” Beccan demanded while they still stood with their arms around each other.
“All the primes but Kayle are with Taro, and he is still alive,” Leah said. “Darien is sending out a force tomorrow morning to try to rescue Mally.”
“I’m going with him,” Rhan said immediately.
Leah just nodded. “So am I.”
“How can I help?” Beccan asked.
Leah pressed her cheek against Beccan’s, then pulled back. They all dropped their arms, though they still stood close enough to touch. “Stay here and run the house,” Leah said.
Beccan nodded briskly. “That I can do.”
“And—I think—make sure the primes are fed,” she added. “I can’t describe it, but it seems as if they’re all just pouring their energy into Taro. I have to think they’re burning through their own physical resources without much regard to the consequences.”
“Yes,” Beccan said. “I’ve seen what they can do. I’ll look after them.”
“Good. Now, let’s see what we can find for you in the way of rooms.”
• • •
Dinner was a strange affair, attended by a broad assortment of people. Beccan had persuaded Josetta and Virrie to come down for the meal, and they were joined by Natalie, Rhan, Chandran, Rafe, Jaker, Barlow, Darien, and one of Darien’s high-ranking soldiers, who looked ill-at-ease and ate as quickly as he could before abruptly rising from the table. Beccan and Virrie talked quietly to each other for the whole meal, while Rhan, improbably enough, seemed to enjoy a wide-ranging conversation with the itinerant traders. Leah took care of Natalie, who alternated between being even more sharp-tongued than usual and breaking into sudden tears. Rafe and Darien appeared to be talking defensive strategies, moving plates and silverware around as if deploying troops on the terrain of the tablecloth. Josetta devoted herself to Chandran and never once looked in Leah’s direction.
Leah ate only because she had to. She had to have the strength to make the journey tomorrow, to endure the travel, to be prepared to deal with whatever had been done to Mally. To say goodbye to Chandran. She didn’t think she could do it. When Natalie broke down for the fourth or fifth time, Leah just drew the girl onto her lap, buried her face in the dark hair, and cried along with her. It was Rhan who reached over and patted Leah’s back, never even breaking off his discussion with Jaker. Leah took three deep breaths, hugged Natalie tighter, and raised her head. She took another bite of fruit. She would be strong. She would make herself strong. She would find her way through the coming days.
• • •
After all, Leah and Chandran spent the night together in Darien’s house. Almost everyone Leah knew in the world was under that same roof, and a day ago she couldn’t have imagined taking her lover into her bedroom with such an audience ranged around her, but tonight she didn’t care who saw her or what any of them thought. She might never get another chance to hold him, tell him she loved him, tell him she believed in him.
She clung to him, she wept in his arms, she begged him to reconsider, to let Darien look for any other way to save Mally, but in the end what she did was love him. She had not thought she would sleep at all, but she was so exhausted by the terrors of the day that, some hours past midnight, she fell into a light and unrefreshing slumber. When she woke, Chandran’s arms were wrapped around her and his mouth was pressed against her hair.
“Almost dawn,” he whispered as soon as he felt her stir. “Time to go.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Darien had indeed mustered close to a hundred elaymotives and maybe three times that many soldiers, and they all set out from the northern edge of Chialto just as the sun was edging above the horizon line. The majority of the vehicles were slim racer-style smoker cars barely big enough to hold two people; the rest were larger transports designed to carry ten or twenty.
“The smaller cars will take the faster southern route,” Darien explained. “The bigger ones will follow the northern track, to block the Karkans if they think to double back.”
Only soldiers rode in the large transports. Everyone who had some role to play in the negotiations—Darien, Leah, Rhan, Chandran—traveled with the smaller vehicles. There wasn’t room for three people in those cramped elaymotives, but Leah managed to squeeze in beside Chandran and Jaker anyway. If she only had one day left with Chandran, she was spending every minute at his side, no matter how uncomfortable the journey was.
They made good time, speeding over the northwestern route as fast as road conditions would allow. Primarily, she supposed, to distract her, Jaker pointed out sights and described the cargos he and Barlow had bought or delivered at many of the small towns and sprawling estates they passed on the way. Leah could barely concentrate on his words, but Chandran listened with genuine interest, asking about local buying patterns and typical exchange rates as if he might someday have a use for the knowledge. The thought made her want to scream out loud.
By nightfall, they had reached the turning point of their journey, the ruined bridge and the forked road. Although Leah would have plunged on through the darkness, jouncing mindlessly over the narrow, rutted track that curved away to the south, Darien ordered everyone to pull over and bivouac. His scouts came back with the news that they seemed to have gained ground on the Karkan caravan, which was now only a few hours ahead of them.
“We should catch them sometime around noon,” Jaker predicted.
“Good,” said Darien. “Then we must all fortify ourselves tonight.”
Barlow pitched a tent for himself and Jaker, Jaker pitched a tent for Leah and Chandran, and everywhere around them, soldiers fell easily into the other camp tasks of building fires, cooking food, and digging latrines. Darien requested Chandran’s presence, leaving Leah to move aimlessly through the campsite, trying to stay out of everyone’s way, trying to shut down the endless circling of her mind. The day had been cold and relentlessly gray, and she was sure her toes and feet would never be warm again, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit quietly before a fire. She had to exhaust her body or her brain would never settle. She kept walking.
She had passed the perimeter of the camp and embarked on a slow excursion down the rocky slope of the unlit road when she heard someone jogging up behind her. She turned, but in the darkness she couldn’t make out more than the shape of a man. Only when he was close enough to put a hand on her shoulder did she recognize Rhan.
“You shouldn’t be hiking alone at night,” he said. “Anything could be out here. Wild animals. Karkan soldiers. You need to be careful.”
She turned away from him and resumed walking. Rhan fell in step beside her. “I feel safe enough,” she said. “Or rather—nowhere is safe, so I may as well be here as anywhere else.”
He couldn’t dispute that, or at least he didn’t try, so for a few moments they walked in silence. “I wish I’d had a chance to tell her,” Rhan said at last. “If something happens to her—”
?
??Nothing will happen to her.”
“But I want her to know,” he persisted. “I want her to know why I couldn’t claim her before. But I can now, and I’m going to. I’m going to tell everybody she’s mine. If we get her back—”
“When we get her back.”
“I want her to see that I’m here, waiting for her. I want her to know that I’ll always be waiting for her. Anytime she needs me. Anywhere.”
Leah just nodded, though she wasn’t sure he could see the movement in the dark. They walked on a few more paces before he said, “You’ll let me, won’t you? You’ll let me be a part of her life?”
That stopped her. She swung around to face him, though all she could see was his shadow before her; she supposed that was all he could see of her. “Yes,” she said. “I want her life to be full of people who love her. I want every Frothen and Ardelay in the city to know she belongs to them, to take her in and soak her in adoration. I want her to have so much love that she almost can’t hold it all, except there’s always room for more love. I want her to have everything.” Her voice started to shake, and she tried desperately to keep it steady. “I want nothing bad to happen to her, ever. I don’t want her to be afraid or lonely or hurt. I don’t want cruel strangers to abduct her—and terrify her—and carry her away to—”
The words knotted up in her throat; she couldn’t force them out. She was crying, she was sobbing, and Rhan had stepped forward to take her in his arms. She didn’t want him holding her, she didn’t want him comforting her, but there was no other comfort anywhere in the world, and she wasn’t strong enough, at that precise moment, to exist without some external support. Even when he said it, she couldn’t believe that everything will be all right; but she needed to hear it, she needed the promise. She needed to fashion some slim tether of hope to lash her sanity in place. It was a lie, she knew it was a lie—Rhan had always lied to her—but tonight, right now, she needed the lie, and she chose to believe it. She rested her head against his chest, felt his arms around her waist, and gave him the lie right back.