Chapter 30 Leash #2
“We’ll go back to the river and see how far the rot has spread since yesterday.
” Fisher turned away from the hearth, wearing a look of weary determination.
Back in Zilvaren, there had been days when the odds had felt stacked against us and then some.
No water. No food. No way out of the ward for one reason or another.
Every time I’d managed to solve one problem, another seemed to stand between me and a moment’s rest. I’d had no other choice but to figure out a solution to the obstacle that blocked my path in the knowledge that more would only follow after it.
But the alternative would have been to give up and die, and I wasn’t the give-up-and-die type.
Neither was my mate.
He drew in a deep breath. When he exhaled, smoke rippled from his shoulders downward, leaving a full set of leathers in its wake.
At his throat: a silver, shining gorget stamped with the wolf’s head of the Lupo Proelia.
Nimerelle’s hilt was visible over his shoulder, her black hilt snapping with energy and drawing in the light.
A moment ago, Fisher had looked like he had come undone.
The Fisher standing before me was ready to go to war.
“Saeris and I will go back to Ammontraíeth. There are more books we should retrieve from the library. Algat can complain all she wants, but we need them. Danya, you go back to the temporary rally point and check in with the warriors there. Tell them to pack up and make ready. I’ll be coming to bring them back to Cahlish tomorrow. ”
The female’s stoic expression wavered. “We’re abandoning the border?”
Fisher nodded once. “We’re abandoning it.”
“But—”
“Stop.”
Danya worked her jaw, but she held her tongue.
“The border doesn’t matter anymore. Infected feeders will cross no matter what.
The land on the other side of the Darn is dead.
There’s nothing there to defend. Our new line will be formed here.
Lorreth, I need you to get Iseabail. We don’t need access to the catacombs at Nevercross anymore.
Not now that we have the books at the Blood Court.
We do need a witch with us to help with Everlayne, though.
Maybe there’s something we’re overlooking.
A way Te Léna and Iseabail can help bring her out of this fugue state. ”
Lorreth’s response to the command was visceral; he spun around and marched toward Fisher, mouth open and ready to start hollering, but he saw the stony look on Fisher’s face, the way the rest of us did, and he threw up his hands and turned right back around again.
“You’re right,” he said. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll go. Never mind.”
Fisher’s expression softened a little. “Te Léna, you stay with Layne and Hayden. The boy will be waking soon, I’m sure, and he’s going to have questions. Answer them as best you can, and do not let him out of your sight. He has a tendency to wander.”
I almost laughed. Fisher had spent only a few hours with my brother, but he was already speaking as if he knew him and had claimed reluctant ownership of him.
“And what about me?” Carrion asked. He was sitting in Fisher’s seat, picking at his nails.
He affected an air of boredom, but he was sitting a little straighter than usual.
He hadn’t even kicked his feet up onto the table.
“I should stay here and make sure no birds land on the trees outside, right? Or should I melt the snow from the front lawn instead? I’m sure there’s something sufficiently inane you can busy me with while everyone else is off doing their important tasks. ”
Let him come to Ammontraíeth.
That was the thought I was going to send to Fisher . . . but I didn’t get the chance.
“Shut up, Carrion,” Fisher said. “You’re coming with us.”
The heavy door to the tomb was barred from the outside.
No order had been left to lock it once we had traveled through the quicksilver back to Cahlish, which meant that the high bloods had taken matters into their own hands.
They must have known that a barred door wouldn’t keep us at bay for long, but the message was clear all the same: You aren’t welcome here. We don’t want you.
The door exploded outward, reduced to splinters by the heel of Fisher’s boot.
Two high bloods stood in the hallway, by the window, armed with iron rapiers.
I didn’t recognize them immediately, but then I saw the ridiculously small right hand that belonged to the vampire who hovered closest and I remembered them from the Fool’s Paradise.
I’d assumed Lorreth had been joking when he’d made that quip about the high blood’s hand growing back small at first, but it seemed that he had not.
Both males—Anterrin? Khol? Gods only knew why I remembered their names—dropped their rapiers and retreated across the hall until their backs hit the wall behind them.
“Don’t! Wait!” Khol gasped. The bastard’s eyes flashed, his expression quickly morphing into hunger when they landed on the cargo in my arms. I always carried Onyx through the quicksilver.
Even with my edicts in place, it seemed like the best policy.
I didn’t like how the high bloods eyed him, as if they were dead set on finding a loophole and making a meal out of him.
Onyx rumbled in my arms, sensing danger, and bared his teeth.
“You have one second to look away from that fox,” Fisher said flatly.
Khol did exactly that, his attention snapping to my mate.
Fisher had Nimerelle in his hand, and the blade was issuing sinister black smoke.
“We’re sorry, okay! We didn’t do it to keep you out.
He told us to watch for Belikon’s men.” Khol closed his eyes as Fisher held the tip of the sword beneath the vampire’s chin. “He—he—he—”
“He?” Fisher parroted.
“He told us to let you out the moment you came through! We would have! We—”
“Go.” The word resonated in the air, a single command that threatened violence if it was not obeyed. Anterrin, who hadn’t said a word, took off first, running down the hall. His brother didn’t waste time chasing after him.
Carrion squinted at Fisher, hand in the air. “Is it weird, knowing that people’s balls retract up into their bodies whenever you’re around?” He made a cupping motion of something being sucked upward.
Fisher crooked an eyebrow at him, but only for a moment.
He sheathed Nimerelle, turning to me as he did so.
“I’m going to find Foley. I’ll take Onyx back to your chambers first, though.
Perhaps you should go check in with the male who posted those idiots outside the tomb. See what he has to report?”
“Sounds like a good idea.” I surrendered Onyx reluctantly, kissing the fox on his head before handing him off to my mate.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep this one safe,” Carrion said, giving my mate a wink. The comment was probably supposed to rankle Fisher, but the dig only earned him an amused snort.
“Please. Saeris could have half of the Blood Court in their eternal graves before you even drew your blade. Even the fox would stand a better chance of seeing off a threat.” Something seemed to occur to him out of nowhere. “Wait. Speaking of your blade, where is Simon, by the way?”
Over the years, I’d seen Carrion successfully hide an array of emotions. He was too slow to hide the color that leaped to his cheeks today. “Don’t you concern yourself with Simon,” he said. “I know exactly where my god sword is, thank you very much.”
Ammontraíeth was a hive of activity as we moved through its halls.
High bloods hurried about, carrying stunning bolts of damask, stacks of gold-leafed plates, and all manner of serving tureens.
They smelled Carrion before they saw me.
A few of them hissed at the scent of fresh, living blood in such close proximity, but the moment they saw Carrion’s auburn hair, they drew back, my edict hobbling their hunger.
When they saw me, they sank down in supplication, bowing their heads, only rising after I’d passed and was out of view.
Carrion watched them drop to their knees, shaking his head.
“You’ve spent your whole life hiding, hoping no one recognizes you, and now whenever anyone sees you, they kneel. You must be fucking hating this.”
My hard-edged laughter echoed around the corridor as we walked. “Oh no. I don’t hate it, Carrion. I loathe it.”
“Then why make them do it? You didn’t need to make that demand when you passed those edicts.”
I had a feeling that he already knew the answer to that question. He wanted to hear me say it out loud, maybe. To remind myself of the necessity. “They have to fear me. Or at least be reminded that I have power over them.”
“I wonder if they have any idea how close they came to being wiped out?” Swift said a little too loudly, as a female in a purple gossamer gown scowled up at us. “You could have ended their lives with a simple command once that crown was placed on your head.”
Indeed, that avenue had been discussed at length before my coronation.
Lorreth had voted for Ammontraíeth to be destroyed.
Renfis had too, casting his vote from Irrín.
Danya had voted for public dismemberment and the kind of torture that smacked of revenge, not justice.
Only I had begged for the opportunity to see if the members of the Blood Court could be redeemed.
Fisher had hesitantly agreed to wait and see how things turned out, aaaand yeah.
So far, things weren’t looking too great.
“We’re going to see Tal, then?” Carrion said, abruptly changing the subject. He spun around, walking backward to keep pace as he returned the beautiful female high blood’s scowl.
“Yes. We’re going to see Tal,” I confirmed.
“How the hell are we supposed to find him in this hellscape of a palace?”
I cleared my throat, not meeting his gaze. “I know exactly where he is.”