Blood Bond (The Stones of Terrene Chronicles Book 4), page 17
Geist turned from the window, his gaze bouncing between Ben and Raine. “I’ll check on the horses.” He grabbed Christopher’s arm and disappeared out the door.
Ben couldn’t get a read on her, what she needed, how he could help. Some battles weren’t meant for two. He met her eyes and opened his arms hesitantly. “I don’t know if a hug would make things better or worse, but––”
She scooted forward, burying her face into his chest before he could finish his words. Her trembling arms wrapped around his middle.
His heart broke for her, and anger thrummed through his limbs. Simon had gotten what he’d deserved, but how Ben wished he could’ve given a piece of his mind to that bastard.
Ben closed his arms around her, gently at first, but she rubbed her face into his shirt, and his hug tightened protectively. He sighed and shifted, leaning into the wall.
Raine tilted her face to the side of his chest, her hair keeping her hidden. “How did Sara do it? How did she get past what happened to her?”
Ben hummed as he thought. He started stroking her hair, absently working through the knots at the ends, just as he’d done for Sara on occasion. “I don’t know if it’s something anyone ever truly gets past or heals from.” That wasn’t very encouraging. He soldiered on. “But she learned to look for the light in life. She prioritized remembering the good. She dealt with nightmares for months though, at least, that I know of. And they’d go away for a while, only for something to bring them back. But she said it helped to know she wasn’t alone. That she had someone she trusted in her corner, fighting the shadows with her.”
He fell quiet. Who was with Sara now? How would she wake from her paralyzing nightmares without him there? Was her roommate helping with that?
Raine shifted in his arms, and he froze, loosening his grip. She sat up straighter but still leaned into him, making her face visible. She bit her lip, not looking at him. “Ben. What are we?”
“Friends.” He didn’t have to think about it. Oh, he wanted to be more than friends. But that …
She pulled herself upright, detaching from his arms and taking away her warmth as she studied him. “Friends?”
His cheeks heated and he shrugged, not fully meeting her gaze. “I–I would like to be more than that, but, I … you-you had a difficult time recently, and I don’t want to be taking advantage of that emotional vulnerability, and I don’t even know what to do about getting home, or if I should start planning on staying here in Terrene forever, and I want to help you know that you aren’t alone, that I can’t fight your battles for you, but I can stand with you through them, and––”
A cool finger pressed against his lips and he stilled, panic freezing his veins. He’d just insulted her or hurt her, and he’d royally blown it.
Her finger fell away from his mouth, but the back of her fingers brushed lightly over his beard in a way that wasn’t an accident. She pulled Ben’s jacket up around herself, nestling into the material as if it were a shield, protecting her.
“I would like to be more than just friends with you.” Her words were soft, but they hit his chest as solidly as a blow from a sword. She peeked up at him, the lapels of his jacket half covering her smile.
Her voice echoed in his mind, the meaning slowly gaining traction. A broad grin stretched across his face. “Really?” he breathed out.
She nodded, a small smirk spreading.
He reached out and pulled her hand out from under the jacket, twining their fingers together. Her hand felt so right in his. He squeezed her fingers gently, drawing her attention to him. He swallowed hard, serious. “If, at any point in time, for any reason, you feel uncomfortable, let me know.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckle, wishing he could convey in words how much she meant to him. “If this is too much at some point, please, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Raine sandwiched his hands between hers and pressed them together. “I trust you.”
She held his gaze for a heartbeat, letting her words sink into him. Then she leaned forward, wayward strands of her hair brushing his cheek a moment before her lips.
His breath whooshed out of him, and she drew back, giggling softly. “Now, should one of us go get Geist and Christopher before they freeze to death outside?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jade
The walls of the airship shuddered, and Jade looked up from her dagger, momentarily forgetting to sharpen it as she concentrated. That hadn’t felt like turbulence. Had something jammed the vents? Then again, it was an older airship. Maybe it had a faulty boiler, or the turbines were rusted, or—
Videl staggered into the doorway, his bare shoulder peeking out amidst the bandages that swathed his chest and back. Faint lines of what had to be pain bracketed his eyes. He flicked a finger at her. “You felt that. Something’s wrong. Go fix it.” He gestured to Andrea. “You help her.”
Andrea nodded tightly, her hands folded in her lap, back straight, a terrified rabbit next to a wolf.
Jade kept the analogy to herself, though the amusement curled her lip up in the corner. “Yes, sir.” She wiped the blade of her dagger against the cleaning cloth before sheathing it at her hip. “Do you know if the tools are kept in the engine room or in the bay?”
Videl grunted and turned away. “Should be in the engine room.”
Andrea remained a shadow at Jade’s side. Since coming onboard, the other bonded seemed … flighty, almost. Distracted. And a bit jumpy.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Jade asked bluntly as they made their way to the engine room.
Andrea’s steps faltered. “Me? No. Not really.”
The airship shuddered again, and Andrea’s eyes widened. Her hands fished out, grasping at the narrow hallway walls.
Jade smirked. “Not at all?”
Andrea gulped for air. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on an airship. And on that one, I had my brother with me.”
Jade’s bright humor faded at the sorrow in Andrea’s tone. “The one you saw back at Tastow?”
“Christopher. Yes.” Andrea rubbed her hand across her forehead, disrupting the small wisps of hair that trailed around her face. “I haven’t seen him in so long, and I-I guess seeing him here, now, while standing on an airship, it brought those memories back. The fears.”
Jade clapped Andrea on the shoulder and smiled wide. “Nothing to fear here. You’ve got the best mechanic from southern Terrene with you. We’ll be fine.”
She put her words to action and shouldered open the concerningly stiff door to the engine room. When had someone last oiled the hinges? What kind of condition was this thing in, if the door was that bad?
Jade glanced around and whistled low. Definitely the oldest and biggest engine room she’d ever seen. A patch of rust stained the underside of the boiler, and the condenser coils had definitely seen better days. Judging by the looks of things, the problem she’d felt could be caused by anything in this room. She poked her head back into the hallway and hollered out, “You just had to pick the best of them, didn’t you?”
“Just fix it!” Videl’s answering shout echoed off the worn wood walls, and Jade smirked to herself.
“You forgot to say ‘please!’” She retorted while assessing the tools at her disposal.
The airship shuddered, and something popped in the engine room, drowning out Videl’s reply. Steam poured from a hose, and Andrea screeched, backing into Jade as the entire room tilted to the side.
Jade ignored the frightened woman and grabbed a stiff leather apron off a hook by the door. She tugged it on, her focus narrowed in on the hose and the alarming way the walls creaked with the sudden humid warmth. She slipped on an abandoned pair of leather gloves and flexed her fingers in the too-big protection. Probably something to do with the turbines. Not impossible to fix.
“Look for spare parts. I need a hose the same size as that one, a coupling, some lubricant, a dry cloth.” Jade trailed off as she neared the hose, cautious to not let the steam hit her face. Where was the emergency shut off?
She grabbed the flailing hose and ran her hand over the boiler, desperately searching for the gear that would provide her the opportunity to fix this. Her knuckles grazed something the right height, and she seized it, cranking the wheel and breathing a sigh of relief as the hissing steam slowed, then stopped.
Andrea knelt by a rust-splotched tool chest, her hands shaking. A crumpled rag lay discarded next to her knee. “I don’t know where to find any of those things you need. We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
Jade laughed shortly, her heart pounding. The airship listed, and she knew the captain had to be above her, swearing at her this very moment. She had to get that turbine up and running again, or they had the very real risk of crashing.
“Of course not,” she lied. “This is something to take care of, but it’s not life or death or anything.”
She turned away to prevent Andrea from reading the truth in her expression. Jade pulled open the storage closet, searching desperately past the spare coils, the single heating stone, the containers of nuts and bolts and screws. Where were all the hoses? An airship this old wouldn’t travel without all the parts that were likely to break, would it?
It was hard to pull in a breath. Fear froze her lungs, only allowing shallow sips of air as she searched, desperation lending a steady undercurrent of oaths and swears as she dug through the disorganized closet.
Ribbed curvature met her gloved fingers, and she shouted as she pulled the hosing out. She snatched a screwdriver off the shelf and examined the hose as she ran back to the busted original. It was older, less supple than she wanted, but it would do. Not like she had a choice right now.
She flicked her wrist at Andrea. “Help me.”
Andrea’s clumsy attempts to hold the hose steady were better than nothing, but she distinctly lacked the skills needed in an engine room. She wasn’t like … someone. A faint memory of agile, dark hands, a hint of a laugh, and the feeling of a job well done rose in Jade’s mind, then dissolved. She blinked at the thought that faded into oblivion. Who had she worked with before? Whoever it was, they weren’t in her memories anymore. Had Master Videl cleared that person away? What kind of negative influence was that person?
But it was someone who’d helped her in the engine room. That much she knew. Because their absence was a gaping hole, cramping Jade’s work style.
But Andrea helped decently enough for the two of them to succeed in their endeavors, and the floor of the engine room stopped shuddering moments after Jade tightened the clamp on the new hose. The airship banked, and Jade gripped a hand bar that had been welded to the condenser unit. Andrea stumbled and sat on the floor, the whites of her eyes visible as she curled in on herself.
Jade shut out the other woman’s fright and closed her eyes, listening for any sounds and signs of other problems. Who knew what else would be ready to blow?
But nothing rattled or clanged in a way that spoke of new troubles, so she slowly let herself relax against the wall. She twirled her screwdriver on the boards of the floor idly. It’d been far too long since she’d been in an engine room like this. She couldn’t remember where she’d been or what she’d been doing prior to this, but it had to have been miserable, if the relief and joy singing through her veins was anything to go by.
Just being in the steamy engine room filled her entire body with the sensation of buoyancy. Something about it made her whole, and her muscle memory had snapped back into place without a hitch, filling in the gaps of her person that she hadn’t even realized were missing. It was like coming home.
“How long have you been a mechanic?”
Andrea’s soft question broke through Jade’s thoughts and Jade looked up from the splintered handle of her screwdriver. “I-I don’t actually know.” She frowned, trying to search her memories, but cobwebs obscured the passage of time. “A long time. I know that.” She huffed and stood, ignoring the tingle of blood moving through her legs again. She shucked off her gloves and apron, hanging them on the peg she’d found them by. “Come on. I should check in with Master Videl.”
Jade swaggered up to Videl’s open doorway and rapped on the frame with her knuckles. She leaned against it and crossed her arms, smirking. “Fixed, as ordered, sir.”
“Good.” He lay on his back, arms to his side, eyes closed. He held up a hand. “Help me sit up.”
Jade hustled forward and gripped his hand as she slid her other behind his back as gently as possible, avoiding the thickest parts of the bandage. “Should you really be up and moving, sir?”
A low wheezing grunt escaped Videl as he sat up and shifted away from Jade’s support. “I will do whatever is necessary.”
His lack of praise for her work deflated some of Jade’s enthusiasm, and she buried the twinge of hurt. “How can I serve you?”
He glanced at the dagger at her hip and his lips twitched in a small smile that held a note of humor she didn’t get. “Come with me while I check on our prisoner. And if she tries anything, protect me.” He picked up a small box that he held against his chest.
“Of course, sir!” She gaped at him, aghast that he even felt the need to order her to protect him. What kind of ingrate did he take her for?
He motioned for her to precede him to the small room where she and Andrea had stashed their stowaway. Jade traced her fingertips lightly over the buttery soft leather handle of her dagger. If anyone tried to get between her and Master Videl, she’d be certain to give them a permanent reminder of their place.
Serena was awake and alert when Jade opened the door to the crew cabin. Serena tried to stand, but fell back against the bed. The ropes that tied her arms behind her and to the pipe on the wall served as a rather effective leash. The concern on Serena’s face melted into hatred the moment Master Videl walked in. She struggled with the ropes and spat at him.
Jade rushed forward and past Serena to jerk on the ropes, yanking Serena backward. The stowaway’s head smacked into the wall, and the woman swore. Jade got eye level with the woman and glared. “You don’t disrespect Master Videl.”
“Master Videl?” Serena stilled, her eyes wide and mouth gaping. “Since when is he Master? And his name is Victor.”
“Since always.” Jade straightened at Videl’s side and crossed her arms, glaring down at the woman. “And what does it matter to you?”
“We’ve been searching for you.” Betrayal colored Serena’s words. “Do you even know what’s happened back home?”
“This is my home.” Jade looked pointedly at Master Videl. “What did you want with her, sir?”
A soft gasp erupted from Serena. “You think he’s … Jade! He’s lying to you. Whatever he said, it’s a lie.” Serena swore at Videl. “What did you do to her?”
Serena’s words tugged at Jade’s mind, trying to find purchase to plant roots of doubt. But the obsidian floor of Jade’s mind seemed to swirl, as if fog rolled over the surface before sinking down to become smooth stone yet again.
Master Videl hadn’t allowed for any loose ends. She was safe and protected under his orders. Jade shook her head at Serena, confidence strengthening her own words. “Whatever you think you know is wrong. This is my home.”
“Indeed.” Smug satisfaction curled Videl’s lips into a smile. “As for what to do with her, I will need your help, Jade.” He opened the lid of his box and tilted it just enough for Jade to see the two bottles of ink and a handheld tattooing device nestled inside. “We need to liberate this one as well.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Videl
His breath sounded harsh in his own ears, but Videl didn’t stop running. His thin shoes made a resounding thwap-thwap sound on the cobblestone as he wove through the buildings. His heels ached from the abuse, but he didn’t slow. Up ahead, the crowd of people milled about, waiting for the very thing he dreaded. He lowered his head, pushing through the bodies, ignoring their protests and angry shouts.
He couldn’t be too late.
He had to see him.
He burst through the crowd to where red-clad Doldran guards ringed the hastily erected wooden stage. A man with nearly black hair bent over a sturdy oak block, his arms bound behind him.
Father.
Two Monomi guards flanked him, their black clothing soaking in all the sunlight. And King Edward of Doldra stood in front of Father, blocking much of him. The king’s crimson coat fluttered in the morning breeze, his gold sashing catching in the light.
Videl panted, hands on his knees, eyes stuck fast on his father. Look up. See me, Videl silently urged. Shouts of the people around him buffeted his heart like wind. Father. Acknowledge me!
The King raised his hand and the rabble quieted. “This day, we execute this man, this traitor, this Elph, for crimes against the crown and our people!” the king shouted. “He has conspired to steal this land from our children and our grandchildren. And today, he fails.”
Videl swiped tears from his eyes. He wouldn’t cry over a man who hadn’t ever acknowledged him. But still, maybe Father would. Maybe he’d look up. Maybe he’d see Videl, see him as his son, maybe––
Silver glinted.
Father’s head rolled. His sightless eyes stared directly at Videl.
Videl jerked awake. His heart pounded as the roar of the crowd faded from his ears, and he slowly released the sweat-soaked sheets from his clammy fists. Nausea rolled in his gut, and he glared at the ceiling, willing his body to calm.
Dull knives of agony stabbed through his back wound, providing him an anchor to reality, not letting him slip back into the nightmare memory.
Whales curse that Serena for landing a blow on him, but right now … he pushed an exhale through clenched teeth. Right now, a small fraction of him was grateful for the distraction.
He hadn’t dreamt that memory in years.
