Rift Page 13

  “I could ride with you,” she protested.

  “The villagers can’t see you like this.” His eyes traveled over her garb. “It will raise suspicion.”

  “But—” She gave Gordon a pointed glance.

  “He won’t say anything,” Barrow assured her, taking Toshach’s reins from her hand. He lifted Gordon onto Toshach’s back and then swung into the saddle behind the boy. “I’ll speak to you again soon. Tomorrow we’ll begin your training in earnest.”

  Without bidding her farewell, Barrow nudged Toshach into a trot.

  As they rode away, she heard Gordon’s excited voice. “Can I be a knight too?”

  Ember mounted Caber and turned the stallion toward Tearmunn, cursing Barrow’s orders under her breath. With bitterness lingering on her tongue, she glanced at the pile of seaweed and foam. A glint of silver caught her eye. Her dagger. She jumped down to retrieve the weapon.

  Hadn’t she been quick in thought and deed, coming to Barrow’s aid when he needed her most? Ember thought as she cleaned the blade of debris. She couldn’t help but feel that he’d been eager to get away from her. That he’d been repulsed by her touch.

  Ember sheathed her dagger, mounted, and put her heels to Caber’s sides. As the horse leapt into a gallop, she swore she would yet prove her worthiness not just to Barrow but to all of Conatus.

  ELEVEN

  DUSK CHASED THE TWO riders as they rode through the gates of Tearmunn. Eira rested her fingertips against the window, watching as the horses passed beneath her.

  “We made the right decision,” she murmured. “We should never bend to the will of the nobles.”

  Cian crossed the room and peered over her sister’s shoulder. “Is that Barrow?”

  “And one of the clerics,” Eira said. “Barrow took Lady Morrow out riding today. And word came from the village that they saved a child from a water horse. A cleric went to interrogate the boy after Ember returned to the keep.”

  “A kelpie in Loch Duich?” Cian frowned. “That’s troubling. And must have been quite the surprise for Ember on her first day out.”

  “She looks no worse for it.” Eira smiled. “I spoke with her in the barracks this afternoon. I daresay she seems happier. The girl holds much promise.”

  “That’s not surprising. How happy were we after our first fight? I remember thinking I was like a daughter of the Morrigan. Immortal and invincible.” Cian turned away, moving to a table covered in scrolls. “Have you looked through these?”

  Eira didn’t take her eyes off the courtyard. “Yes.”

  “What do you make of the reports?” Cian looked at her sister, but Eira continued to gaze out the window. “Eira?”

  “It’s as we suspected,” Eira said. “Something is amiss in our realm. Reports from the German principalities are particularly disturbing. Why the sudden rise in incidents?”

  Cian picked up a scroll, carefully unrolling it. “We should send an advance patrol to the Black Forest. Perhaps they’ll uncover some answers.”

  Eira was smiling when she faced her sister. “Make sure she goes with them.”

  “The lady Morrow?” Cian frowned. “She hasn’t even received her weapon yet. We can’t send her into the field.”

  “She must go,” Eira told her.

  “Why?” Cian asked.

  Eira crossed the space between them, taking her sister’s hands. “That girl is the key to our future. If she has the skill I believe she does, she’ll preserve our legacy among the Guard. If we don’t ensure it, the abbot will do his best to keep women from serving as knights.”

  Cian sighed. “But she could fail . . . or worse. We don’t know what’s causing these disturbances. We can’t send her blind against her foes.”

  “You saw how quickly she dealt with the revenant,” Eira said. “Bearing no training, she excelled in the trial. She possesses strength of body and spirit and a quick mind. The sooner we put her in the field, the better.”

  Before Cian could protest further, Eira raised her hand.

  “I’ll speak to Lukasz tonight,” Eira told Cian. “If he disagrees with me, I’ll let it go.”

  Cian gritted her teeth but forced herself to nod. Lukasz respected Eira—she’d been the one to bring him from the eastern kingdoms to join their ranks at Tearmunn. No matter what his doubts, he would defer to Eira’s preference.

  “I won’t be at dinner,” Eira said. “I want to scout the villages of the glen until dawn. If this darkness is indeed stirring locally, it will only show itself at night.”

  Cian gripped Eira’s hands tight. “Alone? Again?”

  “If the darkness is spreading in the east, it will soon reach our shores,” Eira said. “I won’t be caught unawares. At the first sign that a new evil festers here, we must move against it.”

  “You’re a member of the Circle now,” Cian said. “An adviser. Let the Guard patrol as is intended.”

  “Joining the Circle doesn’t remove us from the Guard. We’ve only earned more work on behalf of Conatus.” Eira pulled away from Cian, reaching for her cloak. “The task of patrolling is mine if I choose it. I won’t hide behind these walls waiting for the enemy to storm our gates.”

  Cian’s shoulders slumped with the knowledge that she’d never win this argument. “Very well. Don’t be reckless. If you do find something, report it to the Circle. Don’t try to deal with it alone.”

  Eira threw a withering glance at her sister, strapping on her sword belt as she left their room.

  After her sister was gone, Cian took up Eira’s post at the window. Twilight bathed the courtyard in deep indigo. Shadows slid over the group, transforming the familiar shapes of servants into strange, lurking forms. Cian turned from the window with a shudder. Eira was right. Something was coming—something that caused a raw foreboding to settle beneath her ribs. And it was changing things between her and her sister.

  When they’d simply been fighting with the Guard, they’d rarely argued. Since they had been appointed to the Circle, the divisions between the two had grown ever wider. While Cian wanted to prepare, to defend, and to preserve Conatus, Eira sometimes acted as though she wanted to rule it. She seemed almost eager for the threat to manifest.

  Cian watched her sister’s behavior with growing apprehension, sensing that darkness was approaching not only from outside but from within. That this threat was real, Cian had no doubt. The only question was how soon it would be scratching at their door. Or, as she secretly feared, how soon it would reveal where it lay hidden in their midst.

  TWELVE

  EMBER WAS SURPRISED she could move at all. Her first day as one of the Guard had left her with twisted, throbbing muscles, which now made their objections to the afternoon’s abuse known in the form of unceasing aches. And while the time spent on horseback had been thrilling, the moment she’d left the saddle her thighs had gone to quivering mush, leaving her to totter back to her quarters. She forced herself to keep a pleasant manner through dinner.

  Even as a novice, Ember could tell the mood in the barracks was somber. Her companions ate quickly, speaking very little. Kael and Alistair hadn’t yet returned from their mission. Ember had been eager to tell her friend about the water horse and perhaps gain his sympathy about Barrow’s gruffness with her. Her mentor had returned to the keep and joined her at dinner, though he seemed completely oblivious to her sour mood, and when she’d asked Barrow about their absence, he’d laughed.

  “Kael is always overly optimistic about how quickly he can complete a mission. They’ll be back late tonight. You needn’t fear for your friend.”

  Though she’d wanted to ask more, she straightened up and fell silent when Lukasz loomed over Barrow’s shoulder.

  “I need to speak with you,” the commander said. He nodded a greeting to Ember and then stood, waiting.

  Barrow looked at her. “You should seek your bed. You’ll rise early tomorrow and it will be a long day.”

  Ember knew she was being dismissed and didn’t dare objec
t. But she bristled with curiosity, wishing she could linger and listen to the warriors’ conversation. She bid the men good night and made the slow, shockingly painful climb to her cell on the second floor.

  Once cloistered in her cell, she shed her clothing one piece at a time, wincing with each movement. She groaned when she pulled her long nightshirt over her head and stumbled to her pallet. Lying down hurt in a way Ember didn’t think was possible. But her body was merciful as it surrendered to pure exhaustion and carried her out of consciousness.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed when the creak of her cell door caused her to stir. A small sound, the light shuffle of feet on the stone floor, made her breath catch. Something was in her room.

  Still half gripped in the haze of sleep, Ember battled against panic. The revenant’s gaping mouth and empty eyes haunted her.

  What if she hadn’t killed it? What if such creatures couldn’t be killed? Could it be here now, seeking vengeance for the pain she’d inflicted on it?

  A pungent scent filled the room, but it wasn’t the stench of rotting flesh that had clung to the revenant. She forced herself to breathe, to wrestle rational thoughts out of fear’s grip.

  Ember rolled out of bed and was on her feet in an instant. Her aching muscles shrieked their objections, but she held her dagger low. Her threatening stance was met by a familiar laugh.

  “Are you really going to gut me, Em?” Alistair asked.

  Ember let out her breath and set the dagger aside. “What were you thinking? I could have killed you.”

  “I didn’t know you were sleeping with a dagger under your pillow,” he said. “But it’s a good idea. You never know.”

  “Why are you sneaking into my cell at this hour?” Ember sank onto her bed, stretching her sore muscles. The sudden movement of being startled awake had brought on a fresh wave of aches.

  “We just returned from our mission.” Alistair sat beside her.

  “The trip to Cornwall?” Ember said sourly, unconvinced that Kael and Alistair weren’t having a joke at her expense.

  “That’s the one,” he said. “Aren’t you relieved to see me alive?”

  Ember didn’t take the bait. “You’ve been fighting for a year, haven’t you? I’m sure you can hold your own.”

  “I’m so grateful for your faith in me, Lady Morrow.” Though seated, he bent over in a mock bow.

  “What are you doing here?” Now that she was fully awake, Ember couldn’t ignore that her muscles hurt even more than when she’d climbed into bed.

  “I know what the first few days with the Guard are like,” Alistair said. “I brought you something.” Warm tendrils rose from the wooden bowl cupped in his hands.

  “What is it?” she asking, taking it from him.

  “An elixir infused with willow bark and honey,” he said. “It won’t take away all of the pain, but it will make the morning much more bearable.”

  “Thank you.” She took a sip of the concoction. Her face scrunched up at the taste, but she drank more. Anything to ease her sore limbs was worth it.

  “Of course,” he said. “It does get easier. Your body will learn how to meet every demand you make of it.”

  “I hope my body isn’t a slow student.” She laughed, wincing as the muscles of her chest and stomach objected.

  “Has he been too hard on you?” Alistair asked.

  “No,” she said. “I’m just soft. It’s Father’s fault. He cooped me up in his castle to be a lady. Barrow has to remake me into a warrior.”

  Alistair shifted closer to her. “I still can’t believe you’re being trained by that brute. They should make an exception for your circumstance.”

  She set the bowl down and drew away from him. Barrow could be stern, but he was hardly a brute. She’d seen the almost childlike joy on his face when they’d raced along Loch Duich. The only thing she was sure of about Barrow was that she knew very little about the man he was. She wondered if anyone did.

  “No,” Ember said. “That’s the last thing I want. Barrow’s exactly the teacher I need. He won’t let me be anything less than the warrior I must be if I’m to survive.”

  “I’m sorry, Em,” he said quickly. “I’m only concerned for you. I have no doubts about your skill.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And what of your mind?” Alistair asked. “What you’ve learned today—you’re not afraid?”

  “Of course I’m afraid,” she said. “That the world is full of such terror . . . such evil. But I wouldn’t know of the danger and then run from it. What good would that do?”

  Alistair touched her cheek. “Such spirit. Had you been born a man, you would have led armies and made other men tremble.”

  She turned her face away from his hand. “Perhaps I still shall. I’m here, aren’t I? And, if memory serves, I’m not the one who needed to be rescued from my test.”

  Alistair fell silent and Ember cursed her temper.

  “Who told you?” he asked. “Was it Barrow?”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m tired and my mouth makes complaint for my broken body. Please forget what I said.”

  He laughed softly, though there was a rough edge to the sound. “Anything serious, though? Have you strained a muscle?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, wishing he would leave so she could let sleep take away her pain.

  She jumped when Alistair touched her arm. “Don’t be afraid. I just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

  Ember tried to relax as Alistair’s fingers probed her upper arms, shoulders, and neck. His touch was gentle, but it sent a creeping sensation along her skin.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to pull away. “There’s no need for this.”

  His arm slipped around her waist. “Shhh.” His other hand was stroking her cheek.

  “Alistair, what are you doing?” Her question came out shaking.

  “What we’ve always wanted,” he whispered. Then he turned her in his arms, pressing his mouth against hers.

  Panic surged through Ember’s limbs. She went rigid against him, but Alistair took no notice. His tongue thrust between her lips.

  She shoved him away with a hiss. “Stop!” Despite her shock, she kept her voice low. She had no idea what had gotten into her friend, but she didn’t want the rest of the Guard to burst in on them.

  “What’s wrong?” Alistair tried to pull her against him again.

  “Why are you doing this?” She put her hands against his chest, keeping him at bay.

  “Don’t you see, Em?” Alistair sounded confused and hurt. “We can be together now.”

  Ember’s skin had grown very cold. “We’re together in the Guard. We’ll fight side by side.”

  “And at night I’ll warm your bed. I’ll worship your body.” There was a fever in his voice that made Ember’s stomach turn.

  “No.” Ember pushed against him, forcing him to move farther away from her. “Our vows. Father Michael said they’re all that protects us from the Church’s intrusion. From the fate of the Templars.”

  “The vows mean nothing.” He spit out the words. “Don’t you see? We take the vows to pacify the Church and the nobles. They dare not cross us for they too greatly fear the evils we face each day, but they don’t know what happens behind these walls. Father Michael keeps our secrets. He understands we are but men. We fight the encroaching darkness and then do as we please.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she said.

  His laugh was quiet, but horrible. “Are you really such a child? Do you believe men as brutal and hardened as those in the Guard would forgo pleasures of the flesh?”

  Now Ember thought she would vomit.

  He went on. “They find lovers where they will and when they will. The vows merely protect us.”

  Ember curled up against the wall. Alistair crawled toward her. His voice became soft, coaxing.

  “I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you understood. You needn’t be
afraid. I’m here to protect you.”

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. How could his words be true? What about Father Michael’s warning? Did the Guard simply laugh behind the old priest’s back?

  Alistair brushed her hair out of her face. “I haven’t sought a lover. I waited for you. Not just this year, but all my life. I’ve always wanted you, Ember. We belong together. You must know that. Fate brought us both to Conatus and to the Guard. How can we deny what was meant to be?”

  He started to put his arms around her, but Ember shrank back.

  “That isn’t why I’m here,” she said.

  “Em,” Alistair began.

  “No.” She snatched the dagger from the table beside her bed, holding it between their bodies. “I was called to the Guard to be a warrior. Not your concubine.”

  He glared at the dagger and then at her. “And what of us? You must have known that I’ve loved you since we were children. You’ve done nothing to discourage my affections.”

  “Get out!” Ember stood up, keeping the dagger pointed at him. She was startled and enraged by his claims. Of course they’d been close as children, but Ember hadn’t felt anything other than sisterly love for Alistair. She couldn’t believe she’d done anything to make him think otherwise.

  “Don’t do this, Em,” Alistair said, though he backed toward the door. He voice went soft again. “Please. Just listen to me.”

  “Leave me alone.” She gripped the dagger so tightly it shook in her hand. “If you value our friendship, you will never speak of this again.”

  Alistair’s shoulders slumped, but he quietly left her room.

  Ember wasn’t sure how long she stood there. The chill of the room crept up her limbs and the trembling in her hand soon overtook her whole body. She didn’t care when the dagger slipped from her grasp, clattering on the stone floor.

  THIRTEEN

  THE MORNING WASN’T as torturous as she’d expected. Ember glanced at the empty bowl of tea on her table, wincing from guilt at the reminder of Alistair’s thoughtful gesture. Guilt was chased away by frustration and then rage as she remembered how free he’d been with his hands. The crush of his mouth on hers had bruised her lips. How could he make such presumptions about her feelings?