Yield the Night

  She had to make a conscious effort not to stare at them as she paced. The ryujin were a beautiful people despite their alien looks. Their scaled bodies shimmered in the faint light of the glowing stones. Men and women both wore their dark hair long, some loose, some braided with beads and gemstones. The men wore garments similar to shorts, fitted to minimize drag in the water. The women wore similar bottoms, as well as halter tops. The garments shimmered too, by all appearances waterproof, and were decorated with intricate stitching and more gemstones.

  The presence of the nearby ryujin was like a comforting spot of warmth in her mind. She didn’t understand their telepathy, but somehow she could feel them around her. Every individual was a presence in her mind. Maybe her new form was more receptive than her human body, or maybe she just hadn’t been near enough of them before. If she had felt this before, she never would have been afraid of the first ryujin. She could literally sense their welcome and acceptance.

  She would never again judge a daemon based on reputation alone. So many feared the ryujin. Even Underworlders knew their reputation as vicious killers. But they were clearly not a violent people at heart. She still didn’t understand why they were helping her and Ash, why they were so welcoming and concerned, but she couldn’t doubt their sincerity.

  As much as they were generally placid, she’d seen their other side too. The one who had arrived first to help her had destroyed the attacking griffins with cold precision. Her water attacks had been clumsy and childish in comparison. He had been utterly lethal, more than living up to his people’s reputation. But then, immediately after when she’d asked for his help to save someone who, to him, was an enemy, he hadn’t even hesitated.

  No one had questioned her. No one had asked her to justify why they should heal an enemy at her request—her, a half-breed they’d never met. It was a level of generosity and acceptance that she’d never encountered before.

  She rubbed a hand over her chest. Her head and lungs still burned from the Sahar’s magic. Although brief attacks with the Stone didn’t cause her pain, she’d known it was possible to use too much. When she’d used it to break the gold collar off her neck, the pain had been intense. As Ash had told her months ago, her body could only hold so much at once, and she’d clearly pushed her limits too far today.

  Aside from the physical pain, she was confused by the Sahar’s emotional effect on her. When she’d used it two months ago, it had overwhelmed her with bloodthirsty rage until she could barely think, until all she’d wanted to do was kill. But this time, that side effect of the power had seemed almost muted. She wasn’t sure if the difference had to do with her being shaded or something else.

  A rustling sound to her left stopped her mid-step. She turned quickly as four ryujin filed wearily out of Ash’s room. Their tired faces told her nothing as they swept past her, likely in search of their beds. The last one to exit was the ryujin who’d healed her. His name was Hinote—as in “he-no-tay.” She’d had to practice it out loud so she wouldn’t garble it later.

  His dark eyes rose to her face. “Come, child.”

  She couldn’t read the emotion behind his words. She ran for the doorway.

  Ash lay across the bed on his back, his wings cradled by the mattress, half-furled. His weapons had been removed and laid near the far wall. Eyes closed. Wounds gone. Chest rising and falling with smooth, quiet breaths.

  Gasping for air from her relief, she rushed to his side and knelt on the edge of the mattress. She gently touched his chest, delighted to feel warm skin under her touch. She looked up at Hinote. He crossed the room, movements slow and flowing like water, and knelt beside her. His eyes slid across Ash’s sleeping form.

  “His injuries are healed,” the daemon said in his deep, measured voice, “but he is not yet out of danger.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His body is weak. His lungs and viscera were contaminated with water. It will be many days before the danger has passed, and many more until he regains his strength.”

  Her hand blindly found Ash’s and closed around it, warm skin and cooler scales.

  “He’s tough,” she said, her voice wavering. “He’ll pull through.”

  Hinote nodded.

  “I—” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved us both.”

  “There are no debts among family, child.”

  Her heart caught in her throat. “But—I—I’m not ...”

  “The river knew you as kin even as a human. So did I.”

  She licked her lips, struggling to discern any emotion from him. She could sense the warmth of his mind in her own, but the telepathy told her nothing of what he was thinking.

  “How is it possible?” she asked quietly. “I thought your people never left the Overworld.”

  Hinote’s dark eyes were unreadable but his voice became even more neutral. “Only one among us has ever left our homeland.”

  “Only one?”

  “We knew him as Yuushi, but he took a new name long ago.”

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “His chosen name is Vejovis.”

  Without further comment, he rose and left the room, giving her privacy.

  She stared at nothing, her mind spinning. Hinote’s voice echoed in her head. Vejovis. The mysterious Overworld healer, caste unknown, past unknown, his healing skills elevated to legend.

  Of course. Of course he would be a ryujin. She’d experienced firsthand the unrivaled healing skills of the caste. It was now clear where Vejovis had inherited his talents, and how he’d lived within the ryujin’s territory with impunity.

  And he was her grandfather.

  She slowly shook her head back and forth, barely able to comprehend it. So that’s why he’d sealed her magic as a child. Why he’d followed her from the medical center. Why he’d spared her life in Asphodel, then helped her escape. Her throat closed. He was her grandfather, and he’d died because he’d helped her.

  Opening her eyes, she put Vejovis out of mind and turned to Ash. She held his hand in silence, watching his chest rise and fall, face peaceful. Slowly, she ran her fingers over the smooth ridged texture of one of his glossy horns. She touched the scales across his cheekbones and traced the faint, dark design in the hollow of his cheek. Then she brushed a fingertip over the blue material braided into his hair, her gift to remind him of his promise to protect her.

  Could she have been any more selfish?

  Her eyes squeezed shut. She saw it again in her head. The Ra daemons drawing their weapons to attack. Ash, ready to defend, shielding, focused. And then she had screamed. Why had she screamed? Why couldn’t she have kept her stupid mouth shut? Again, she saw Ash’s fatal glance in her direction, that involuntary break in concentration that had almost cost him his life.

  It was all her fault. Seiya had been right all along.

  Her entire body trembled as the inner anguish built up. The quiet stillness of the ryujin city pressed in on her, suffocating. Biting the insides of her cheeks, she lay down beside Ash, careful of his wing, and pressed her face against his neck. She now fully understood Seiya’s commitment to Ash that he would never have to bleed for her again.

  She lost track of time as she lay beside him, holding him close. Minutes slowly passed as she listened to his heartbeat. Thoughts whispered through her mind, taunting her. When Ash had been stabbed, she’d felt as though the knives had pierced her own chest. When he’d stopped breathing, she’d felt her own heart stutter and struggle. The thought of losing him had scared her more than her own impending death from her magic had.

  Perhaps it was time to admit that her feelings for him ran deeper than mere attraction.

  Slowly, as if in a dream, she rose up on one elbow to look down at him. Her eyes traced his face, alien but so familiar. She lightly touched his jaw, emotion rising up inside her until she couldn’t breathe. What kind of fool was she? She could deny it all she wanted, but deep down, she knew the truth. He wasn’t just a f
riend. He wasn’t just an infatuation.

  Trepidation bordering on panic slid through her. If she acknowledged it, his ability to hurt her would increase tenfold. She knew what rejection could do to her. She knew that pain, and her feelings for Micah had been the blind, foolish obsession of a teenager. She couldn’t imagine ever risking her life for the incubus, even when she’d thought he was the only thing that mattered in the world.

  Ash had done so much more than capture her heart. He’d changed the very landscape of her soul.

  Heart beating hard, she pressed her hand against the side of his face. She didn’t know if his feelings matched hers. She wasn’t sure if it even mattered. All she knew was that she would do anything to keep him alive—even if that meant doing the very thing Seiya had been demanding all along.

  Even if that meant letting him go.

  Her hand trembled against his cheek. Slowly, she leaned down until her lips hovered just over his. His warm, slow breath brushed across her skin. She closed her eyes, fighting to contain the rush of emotion within her. She couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t know. It would make everything more difficult. Seiya had said it, hadn’t she? What future could she and Ash have together? But she couldn’t hold it in.

  Her lips brushed across his as she whispered the forbidden words.

  “I love you.”

  Tenderness laced with pain twisted inside her. She pushed away, climbing to her feet and clenching her hands against the tremble in her fingers. The first and last time she would say those words to him. Her feelings were her own problem. He’d almost died protecting her too many times already. She wouldn’t ask that of him again. She wouldn’t allow it again.

  She paused in the midst of taking a step toward the door and glanced back. Her heart squeezed. She knelt again and reached for the braid alongside his head. With fumbling fingers, she loosened the plait and slid the strip of blue material from his hair. Clutching it in one hand, she rose and strode for the door. As she pushed the curtain aside, she couldn’t stop herself from looking back one last time.

  Hazy grey eyes stared at her.

  She blinked hard—and saw he was still deep in the healing sleep. Taking a deep breath against the rush of alarm that he’d somehow woken up, she dismissed her overactive imagination—fueled by longing—and slipped silently out of the room, leaving him to his recovery.

  As she walked away, she vowed that she, too, would never let him bleed for her again.

  CHAPTER 23

  PIPER crouched on the edge of the path, a hundred foot plummet a few inches from her toes. The Kyo Kawa Valley stretched before her in the dim light of dusk. Glowing blue orbs dotted the landscape like scattered stars.

  She closed her eyes, letting the breeze caress her face as she inhaled the quiet scent of this world. The ryujin territory was dangerous, beautiful, mysterious. In a way that the Underworld hadn’t touched her, something about this world drew her. Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe it went down to her bones.

  Behind her, the ley line flowed past, shivering across her senses. Somewhere farther down the path, Ash’s blood smeared the stones.

  She let out a long breath. It had been over five days since Miysis’s betrayal. For five days, she’d stayed in the ryujin city to make sure Ash’s healing continued. Two days ago, he’d developed a lung infection, which he was still fighting. He hadn’t woken up properly since he’d fallen off the cliff and out of her sight.

  Hinote had assured her that Ash would fully recover with a bit more time. She had to believe him.

  She’d waited as long as she could. With nothing but Hinote’s assertion that Ash would be okay, she’d thanked the ryujin for their kindness. Hinote had promised to care for Ash like his own family until he was well again. It was the best she could hope for.

  The time for waiting was over.

  She rose to her feet. Lyre and Seiya hadn’t returned since going through the ley line five days ago. Considering the speed with which Miysis’s backup force had arrived, it was entirely possible he’d had an ambush waiting for them on Earth. Piper had no idea if Lyre and Seiya were alive, but if they were, she wouldn’t abandon them.

  She stretched her arms out in front of her. Each forearm was wrapped in pale leather that shimmered in the soft dusk light—dragon scale. The armguards were magic resistant and nearly impenetrable, a gift from Hinote. Beneath the left one, the Sahar lay against the skin of her inner wrist. Her torso was clad in a halter top of dragon scale like the other ryujin women wore, and she’d already recovered her boots and pants from the trail. She wore both despite the discomfort. It wouldn’t be a problem for long.

  The tentacle-like appendages drifted around her thighs. She’d finally learned what they were called: dairokkan. As Ash had surmised, they weren’t tentacles at all, but sensory organs that allowed her to sense water currents as well as the strange, sentient elemental power within the river. Hinote hadn’t been able to explain very well what that power was, and she knew almost nothing about elemental magic.

  She let out a long breath and slipped a hand into her pocket. She pulled out the strip of blue material she’d taken from Ash’s hair. Sliding it through her fingers, she hardened her resolve.

  As much as it burned her to admit it, Seiya was right. Piper hadn’t been strong enough, and her weakness had nearly gotten him killed. She hadn’t learned when he’d almost died after the fight at the medical center so many months ago. She hadn’t learned when he’d been tortured in front of her. She hadn’t learned when Samael had used her to poison him.

  He’d almost died for her selfishness. She hadn’t needed him to accompany her to the Overworld, but despite the obvious danger, she’d let him come for her own comfort. She’d even let him come knowing Miysis couldn’t be trusted—and she’d been right. The Ra heir had obviously planned to eliminate Ash the moment Piper completed, or broke, her side of their agreement.

  She couldn’t count on Ash anymore. She couldn’t ask for his help anymore. Next time there wouldn’t be a team of the best healers in any of the worlds standing by to save him. Next time they wouldn’t be so lucky. Next time he would die. She couldn’t let that happen.

  If she really loved him, she wouldn’t put him at risk again. How could she justify that? Until she was as strong as Seiya, until she was so strong that she didn’t need Ash’s protection, she had no business being near him. No matter what she said, he would try to protect her if they were together.

  She was done letting other people risk their lives for her. She was done letting Ash bleed for her. She would fight her own battles from now on.

  Jaw tight, she pulled the second item from her pocket: the narrow leather band Ash had given her, imbued with a tracking spell. Selecting a blue-tinted rock from the path, she tied the material around it, then wrapped the belt over top that. Weighing it in her hand, she drew her arm back and hurled it as hard as she could into the gorge. The rock plummeted out of sight.

  Turning her back on the valley, she took a moment to just breathe. It was time to go.

  She stepped closer to the ley line. Although it had been days since the Ra ambush, she didn’t dare go back to the same spot where Miysis had taken them through the ley line on Earth. Lyre and Seiya had gone that way and hadn’t been seen since. It could easily be a trap; Miysis would surely be watching for her.

  She needed to come out of a different Earth ley line, but there was only one other she knew of. Two months ago, she, Ash, and Seiya had used it to return to Earth from the Underworld. It would work equally well from the Overworld to Earth, so that’s the line she would use.

  Her only experience with the Void had been a single step out of it; she hadn’t tried to travel anywhere. But she couldn’t wait for Ash to wake up and coach her, and the ryujin had no advice to offer her on interworld travel. She would have to wing it.

  She inhaled one more breath of Overworld air, trying to slow her speeding heart rate. Then she wrapped her mind in a barrier of magic as she had last time, v
isualized where she wanted to go, and stepped into the ley line. Magic rushed over her, sliding across her skin like an unseen river.

  She could sense the Void, out of sight but not out of reach.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she stepped into the shrieking, shattering darkness.

  . . .

  She hadn’t properly appreciated the strength of her daemon body until it was gone.

  Her muscles felt limp and feeble with each trudging step. She walked listlessly through the balmy evening shadows, following a long-abandoned road. Plant life had destroyed the pavement, leaving nothing but treacherous chunks of concrete hidden in the grass. She vaguely recalled this road from last time, when she’d followed the dark silhouette of Ash’s back through the night. It could have been a completely different road, she supposed, but based on the setting sun, she was at least going in the right direction.

  She lifted her hands as she walked, studying her familiar, human fingernails. When she’d come out of the ley line, she’d been human again, forced back into her usual form by Earth’s magic. She had no idea if she could switch to her daemon glamour the way a daemon could drop his human glamour. She missed her shimmering scales and extra strength, but she was also relieved to be herself again.

  The only thing left of her trip to the Overworld was her magic. She could still sense the difference between her two magics even though she was once again blind to the supernatural forces. Even if she never shifted back into her daemon form, she could keep her magic under control. There were many things that might still kill her, but her magic wasn’t one of them.