Blood Bond (The Stones of Terrene Chronicles Book 4), page 26
An opening that might not get her in trouble. “Others?”
Andrea’s gaze traveled over his shoulder, and he half turned to see Geist, Ben, and Raine approaching. Christopher lifted his hand, asking them to wait, then he returned his attention to his sister. “They’re with me.”
She scrutinized them for an uncomfortably long minute. Christopher squirmed internally. If pressed, she would be able to tell Lord Avery who was with Christopher, and what they looked like.
But only if asked. He just had to hope and pray to whatever powers that would listen to a Void Born that she wouldn’t be queried. Ever.
She finally looked back at him. “Two women came with Master Enforcer Victor –– Videl,” she self-corrected. She gave a minute shrug. “One of them only refers to him as Victor, and Lord Avery calls him Videl.”
“Victor is here?” Geist interrupted, stalking forward. Barely suppressed anger radiated from him. “With who?”
Christopher nodded for Andrea to answer, anticipation twisting his gut.
“Yes, sir.” She took in his expression, and something keen glimmered in her eyes. “If you’re here for Jade or Serena, it’s too late. They won’t be able to go with you.”
Raine hissed something too low to be understood, and Ben murmured in reply. Christopher held up his hand to forestall whatever outburst Geist was preparing. “He bonded them, didn’t he?”
She shifted her package again and gave him a bleak look. “Of course.”
Well, that would be something Zak would have to work around. But if they succeeded in breaking the bond, it wouldn’t prove a problem. Theoretically.
But they still had to get in.
“Andrea,” Christopher kept his tone low, caring. “What’s it like in there right now? You’re working under Lord Avery, right? How hard is your workload?”
“He’s short-staffed, if that’s what you’re asking.” She huffed, a cloud of white hanging by her mouth before slowly dissipating. “He sent most of his forces down to take back Doldra, and I guess he sent some of his household personnel, because he added me to his staff.”
Christopher tucked that nugget of information away before fishing again. “Are the guards treating you well?”
A fleeting grin stole across her lips. “There’s not many to avoid.” The brief glimmer of contentment faded into something Christopher hated to see on his sister: fear. “Lord Avery has a shipment of rockhides coming in sometime tomorrow from Ravenshill to strengthen security.” She swallowed hard. “They’re supposed to stay in the battlements and courtyard, and they’re coming with bards to keep them tamed, but … dragons.”
Dragons, indeed.
They needed to get in before the rockhides arrived. Those dragons weren’t easy to tame, even with a bard’s manipulative help. Ferocious beasts with teeth and jaws that would easily bite a man in half, and skin that was aptly named, not something Christopher and his friends stood a chance fighting against. Their daunting challenge had just gotten harder.
“When do they come in?” Geist asked, the words sounding slightly breathless despite his calm, gruff exterior. Was his mouth as dry as Christopher’s?
“Tomorrow.” Andrea shrugged slightly. “I don’t know when. You can come back and ask, if you want.” She trailed off then, pulling back slightly to look Christopher over again. Her gaze snagged on his right sleeve, where there was no gap in the fabric to reveal his tattoo. “Why—”
“We just got in from our mission in the south,” Christopher explained hurriedly. He motioned to the package in her arms. “We shouldn’t keep you any longer.” He hesitated, the half-truth, half-lie tingling on his tongue. “We’ll report in to Lord Avery and Master Videl soon enough.”
“Tomorrow, probably.” Geist added, crossing his arms casually. “We just want one last night free before reporting in.”
Andrea loosed a short laugh. “Enjoy it.” She gripped her bundle across her chest and bowed slightly to the group of them. “I need to get back before I get in trouble for tardiness.”
“Of course.” Christopher hesitated, heart in his throat as she turned away. “Stay safe.”
She shot a quizzical grimace over her shoulder, but didn’t stop.
It was as if he’d just been filled with something light and airy, and now it was gone, leaving him heavy and chained to the ground. Andrea was safe. But she was here.
And Avery was about to have rockhides.
Christopher turned toward the Phoenix, snow crunching underfoot as he thought. How would they get past those creatures? Did anyone on their airship have bardic abilities? Even just an inkling? Maybe Finn? He was a sage, so maybe that would count for something? And much of the crew were dragon hunters, so depending on how many rockhides Avery had coming in, they could maybe dispatch six hunters per dragon?
But that was essentially leading an assault on Lord Avery, which was the opposite of their planned sneaking in mission.
Chapter Fifty-One
Raine
Raine leaned her hip against the table in the Phoenix mess hall, lost in thought while the others discussed new options due to Avery’s pet dragons. She’d meant every word when she said she’d do her part as a Void Born in breaking the blood bond. She’d meant it then, and she still meant it now. Even if the thought of it made her feel sick to her stomach.
She’d just returned to Papa. Started a relationship with Ben. And now she was going to say goodbye. Possibly forever. And for what? People who didn’t want her, and only because she lacked something they had. Angry tears blurred the table, and she silently left the dining area in favor of the icy main deck.
Not everyone felt that way toward Void Born. She had to be fair. Geist hadn’t changed how he treated her or Ben at all. Neither had anyone else on the Phoenix. Well, except for Roska. But all the others, including Jade and her husband, had welcomed her kindly enough.
There were good people worth sacrificing for. She could hold her head high for them.
She swiped away the tears already numbing her cheeks and cautiously made her way toward the safety railing, watching the wooden deck for spots that had no ice patches—hot pipes underfoot kept the frost and ice away.
There wasn’t as much city light out here, and the night sky was a riot of colored stars. Her nerves settled as she mentally connected the dots of familiar constellations, fondly remembering the stories Papa had told her when she sat on his knee as a child, stubbornly fighting sleep.
It was for kids like herself that she’d fight to find that dais and cross over it. So that kids like her wouldn’t be tattooed and owned. So that they’d have a life of freedom. And maybe, just maybe, the tale of the three Void Born who gave themselves to save their people would help the populace understand and accept them.
Hopefully.
“Penny, wait, no. Lut for your thoughts?”
Raine jumped, a small shriek escaping her as she grabbed for her sword. Ben’s voice registered in her brain a moment later. She pressed her hand against her heart and swore at him. “Warn me before you sneak up!”
It was hard to fully see him in the dim lighting, so she couldn’t determine if he looked contrite or amused. Knowing him, probably both.
“If I warn you, then I’m not sneaking up.” He pointed out, not sounding contrite at all. “I’m sorry I scared you though.” Ben tugged her hand off her sword hilt and laced their fingers together. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I honestly thought you’d heard me.”
She shook her head. “I was … lost in thought.”
He leaned against the railing, facing in toward the main deck. “Care to share?”
She sighed and braced her hands on the cold metal, grateful for the opportunity to keep her face hidden. “If everything works the way Papa hopes it will, I’ll never see him again. We don’t even know if we’ll make it. If we’ll survive. And if we do, how will we find each other?” She flailed her hand in the direction of Magus Heights. “Did everyone figure out the plan to get in?”
Ben shifted to face the same direction, looking out over the dark landscape. He wound his arm around her middle and gently pulled her to lean against him. “You still have the address I gave you? Sara’s?”
“Yes.” She let herself sag into him, trusting him to stand against her weight. His boots squeaked as he widened his stance.
The address was nothing like she’d seen, further proof of the strangeness of the land he’d come from. But it didn’t change who he was, or how she’d grown to love him, how he’d still pursued her.
She added, “I keep it in my pocket.”
“Good.” He hugged her, and she could feel his smile. “And we have a plan.”
Something in his tone seemed off, almost guarded. She tilted her head to look at his face and take in his thin lips and the line between his brows. So it wasn’t going to be a great plan. “What is it?”
He ran his free hand through his hair. “Samantha and part of her crew will cause a distraction while the rest of us commandeer the incoming dragon sleds. Then we take the rockhides in to Avery.”
It was clear he was oversimplifying, and that was likely a good thing, because it gave her brain less details to consider how wrong everything could go. “By us and we, I assume you’re talking about me, you, and Christopher? Are the others still planning to come?”
“If you’re referring to Zaborah, Geist, and Zak, yes, they’re still coming. And Finn, of course.” A small smirk quirked Ben’s lips. “But he was adamant that you two didn’t need a third person on your team. They’d only get in the way, apparently.”
Raine huffed a laugh. “He’s not wrong. We work best, just us.”
Ben hummed, swaying slightly. “Do you dance?”
“Dance?” she echoed, perplexed by the sudden change of topic. “What does that have to do with any—”
“Do you?” he interrupted. He shifted to face her properly, tugging her into a loose hug.
Even with all their bulky winter layers, her heart rate sped up at his closeness, the simple nearness. She stammered slightly, reflexively wrapping her arms around him in a simple embrace. “It’s not been high on my list of priorities. Why?”
“Because it just occurred to me that we’re alone on the deck, under a sea of stars, during what might be our last night in Terrene, and it would be a shame to miss this moment.”
“But dancing needs music, and we have none,” she pointed out, charmed, despite herself.
“You’re music enough in my life.”
She scoffed and smacked his shoulder lightly. “You’ve been hanging out with Briar too much. Sounds like one of the lines he’d use on Krista.”
Ben gave her a dashing grin. “Trust me?”
She waggled her fingers and the ring hidden under gloves. “I wouldn’t be wearing this if I didn’t.”
His eyes sparkled in silent reply. “Follow my lead.” He slipped a hand to her waist as he held her other hand and quietly counted out a rhythm, “One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four.” He moved gracefully—more at ease with the motions than she’d expected.
“I didn’t know you danced.”
His eyes crinkled. “My mother loved to dance. Sometimes she’d dance in the kitchen while making dinner, and if I was passing through, she’d pull me in. ‘Making memories of moments,’ is what she’d call it.” His grin turned bashful. “So this is a moment I wanted to give you. Something peaceful and beautiful here, in Terrene, before we face tomorrow.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she hugged him, squeezing tight, imprinting every detail of him and his touch onto her cells to remember later. The scent of the cold snowy air, and the warmth that she associated with Ben. The scratchy feel of his wool coat on her exposed wrists, and the way she could feel his breath on her cheek. The sight of the stars overhead through her peripheral, and the fuzzy glow of the dimmed lanterns.
“Thank you.” Her whisper was so low she wasn’t sure that he’d be able to hear it, but he kissed her cheek, and the heat of his words melted the last remnants of her fears.
“I love you, Raine. Remember that. No matter what happens tomorrow, I love you.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Weston
Weston gripped the edge of the pilot’s basket, his eyes watering behind his uncomfortably stiff skyfaring goggles. He’d dared to hope that if they weren’t flying at their standard height for long distance travel, maybe the flight wouldn’t be so bad.
He was wrong. So, so wrong.
It was worse.
They couldn’t fly Doldra’s gravity-stone-based airships, as that would put them too close to the ground. So they used the steam-based dirigibles, with their easily-blown-around balloons, their scaffolding instead of sturdy walls, and their claustrophobic undercarriage baskets.
He eyed the grappling hook glove on his hand. Niles wasn’t taking any chances and had insisted Weston wear it, just to be safe. When Weston had balked–– he needed his hands free–– Andre had shoved the glove on Weston and given him a hard stare. Weston had swallowed his protest.
It wasn’t a full harness system, but it was something in case they crashed. But aside from terrors grounding them, there were no known threats. The Elph didn’t seem to have airships.
And the plan was working. They’d passed over the first of the three gates leading out of the city and into the wilderness beyond the city, and parajumpers from their ship had landed without hitch. From the air, Weston had been able to clearly see the moment the bard had been killed, the way the rager went wild, burning half the northern forces before the strike team took the dragon down.
One down. Three to go, theoretically.
And Brandon. Wherever he was. A quick visit to the two bonded Brandon had released from the prison proved that his orders hadn’t been affected by whatever Coven Leader Lea had done to him. Small comforts.
And one rager down was good. And not a moment too soon, as Weston could already make out on the horizon the tell-tale shimmer in the air of airships incoming from the southwest. Antius, or Perennia. Or possibly both.
He had to get those other two gates cleared of possible ambushes. If the new forces landed in the only place possible––outside the gates—and they tried to make their way into the city, they’d be in for a deadly surprise.
He choked on air. What if the Coven leader had interrogated Brandon? The Elph had already intercepted their missives, but with Brandon, they’d know everything that’d been happening in the palace. They’d know every possible weakness.
How had he not thought of that before? They were worse off than he’d imagined.
“Elph in the air!”
Cold sweat broke out over Weston, and he whirled around, cursing the skyfaring goggles for limiting his peripheral vision. Since when did the Elph have airships? Why hadn’t they used them earlier?
True to what the captain yelled, there were three older, wooden airships lifting off from the western flank, each bearing a blue flag with a silver cup in the center. Buildings crunched under the force of their gravity stones.
How had Weston and his men missed those?
The lead ship was still a distance away, drawing parallel with them. Dread curled in Weston’s gut. What did the enemy have now, that brought them out of hiding?
Niles stayed at Weston’s side, both of them watching in horror. It would be a race to get to the wall where Titus was holed up, and any advantage they’d had in numbers with the arrival of their airships would be gone if the Elph ships had similar numbers aboard. Weston scanned the rooftops and streets below, trying to think of how they could make a stand against this new development.
Andre joined them, gripping the rail and staring darkly out across the town at the new airships.
A boom rolled through the air.
Weston flinched and peered back at the Elph ship. Something smoked in its side, and a gust of wind cleared it a moment later, revealing smooth round edges with a dark center. Weston couldn’t feel his body. His ears rang. It was like his steam pistol, but bigger. Huge.
Dimly, he registered a new sound, and he dragged himself on leaden feet, hand over hand on the edge of the basket, to look behind them. His troops had taken off with four airships. The third in line had been struck, air escaping the sturdy canvas. Grapple lines shot out from the basket and soldiers jumped out, some landing safely, others hitting the ground too hard.
Weston battled the urge to throw up.
Their airship shuddered, and Weston fell to his knees, his cheek smacking into the metal basket. His stomach rose to his throat.
Niles hit the floor next to him. “Your Highness! Weston!” Niles gripped his shoulder, shaking him. He grabbed Weston’s gloved hand and tugged him to his feet. “Come on.”
Weston blinked the spots out of his vision. He looked up and time seemed to slow.
Stretched canvas wilted overhead, air gushing out.
Their airship was going down.
They were about to die.
Soldiers poured out from the cargo basket without hesitation. The zing of grapple lines flying out and thwacking into targets filled the air.
Andre’s hand flowed with sign language too quickly for Weston to understand. Andre yanked Weston up to his feet.
Weston swayed where he stood.
Niles’s fingers dug into his shoulder, the pain centering Weston. Right. Time to go! Weston scanned for the beam of the airship to anchor his grappling hook. He aimed the glove and hit the trigger. Nothing happened.
Two different hooks and lines shot out past him, hitting the beam. Niles stared at Weston’s glove, panic in his eyes. He reached out, flicking the toggle for the glove. The floor careened under them.
Niles looked over Weston’s head at Andre, and his alarm disappeared behind a wall of focused determination.
Niles wrapped his arm around the rail, hooking Weston into his chest. “Take off your glove!” Niles bellowed.
