Chapter 50 In the Midst of Blackness
IN THE MIDST OF BLACKNESS
The day had dawned with a few low, puffy clouds, but the puffs had grown until the sky was white with splashes of blue. As we entered the woods and climbed, the sun vanished and the air chilled.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Lord Wellington said as the horses walked up the steep slope. “I understand your reticence, but for military purposes, I must understand the capabilities of your sister. And, for that matter, of yourself.”
“I cannot precisely answer either question. Lydia has skills I do not. She can command foul crawlers. Are you aware that the French weapon used against our draca was crawler venom?”
“Yes. Mr. Darcy informed the English command some months ago.”
“And you know that crawlers can be large?”
Conversation paused while we guided our horses over an uneven, rocky patch, then he replied, “I know that foul crawlers can reach five inches, at which size they are extremely dangerous.”
“My sister commands crawlers twice the length of a horse. They run faster than a man, climb trees, and have heavy armor plates. Their heads have serrated pinchers, like a pair of swords, and there is a pair of stingers at their rear, although they can curl their bodies to strike in front of their heads as well.” What else did he need to know?
“Their venom confuses and hurts draca, like the French weapon. And of course, it is lethal to humans. I believe the sting of a large crawler kills much more swiftly than the small variety. The French soldiers who died so horribly were stung by monstrous foul crawlers.”
We rode in silence for a good minute before he replied dryly, “I see.”
I was thinking of how to finish my answer. “I can summon draca, even unbound, and ask them to do things, although I do not like to command them. And I can look through their eyes.”
“That is remarkable.” He sounded more hopeful.
“Lydia can also command draca. When she tried to take the Longbourn firedrake, she was far more powerful than I.”
“I see.”
“When I became angry, I was able to stop her.”
“Let us hope you become angry.”
I was becoming irritated by his tone. “I am simply answering you. Lydia cannot sense the presence of draca like I do. And… and she is my sister. She will not hurt us.”
Lord Wellington made no reply. Well, at least he did not turn around and head back.
We rode in silence for ten minutes, then I said, “We are close. She is over that rise ahead, perhaps three-quarters of a mile. They do not seem to be moving. At least, Lydia is not. I cannot sense anyone else.”
We were following a narrow trail. Lord Wellington led us into heavier brush. He stopped when we were screened.
“You said you can look through draca eyes,” he said. “Can you use draca to scout ahead?”
I was a little embarrassed that had not occurred to me. “I have done that when closer. Let me try.”
I dismounted and knelt, dry leaves crackling under my dress. I rested my hands in my lap, seeking calm. This would be farther than I had ever thrown my awareness.
Lord Wellington dismounted and sat cross-legged a few steps from me, at ease in the rough. One would think he was on a social excursion, if not for his attention to the forest around us.
I closed my eyes. The oily, churning blackness that surrounded Lydia was obvious. There were sparks of draca near her, but they were hard to distinguish at this distance. I bit my lip, thinking how I had reached out to summon those tiny flying draca, then tried to push my awareness closer.
There was a sense of motion—like riffling the pages of a book—and I was there. Right there. In the midst of the blackness. A hundred oily, ice-cold rags dragged across my bare skin.
Hurriedly, I pulled back a dozen yards. My arms were rigid with goose flesh. My breath shook. I hugged myself, rubbing my forearms to warm up.
“Are you all right?” came Lord Wellington’s concerned voice.
“Yes. I am near them now. My awareness is. I sense Lydia’s ferretworm, and the firedrake.” The burning presence approached a wyvern in brilliance. “Lydia has not bound the drake, but she is… caging her. The method is unpleasant.” Sheets of oily black swirled around her.
“Can you see through the drake’s eyes?”
“I dare not try. Lydia would sense me. But there is a feral draca nearby. Very dim, which happens when they are asleep.”
I gave a prod. The awareness sparked into light, and a draca’s exact senses filled my mind.
But not vision. This was touch—cool earth, flecks of clay, edges of rock.
An open tunnel that I sensed without sight, descending with twists to skirt large rocks.
The scalding heat of day was screened by a few inches of insulating earth above my head.
I gave a breath of laugh as I realized. “A tunnelworm. Underground. But maybe he will take a look for me.” Already, he was scrabbling upward with remarkable speed.
Light flooded. By reflex, I mimicked his blink against the brightness. My eyes had been closed, so that just added a confusing second image until I shut them again.
Lydia’s corrupted silhouette was visible. The revulsion of the tunnelworm spilled into my own body, vile in my stomach. I guided his eyes in another direction and blew out a relieved breath as the sensation faded.
“There is a wagon… and many people—” I stopped as a hand brushed my side. My real side, not the tunnelworm’s. I heard a crunch. “Was that you?”
“Pardon me.” Lord Wellington’s voice was strained. “How many people?”
“It is hard to judge… draca do not see like we do. More than twenty. Oh.” My voice choked.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Darcy,” I said in a small voice. “I see him. He is alive.” My relief was so intense that it hurt, as if my heart had been so tightly bound that it lost feeling, and now each joyous beat drove out a stab of stale fear.
“I think you had best stop now.” Lord Wellington sounded strange.
“I may be able to recognize Miss Darcy—”
“Stop. We have little time.”
I pulled my awareness back, took a breath to settle myself, and opened my eyes.
Two feet in front of me, a gentleman’s penknife stood vertically in the ground. It had skewered a foul crawler six inches long.
I remembered a hand brushing my side. “Was that climbing on me?”
“I am afraid so. I neglected the obvious risk that your sister would have a similar ability to use crawlers as sentries. We are discovered. You must take your horse and ride for the Briton village. I will stay to slow their pursuit.”
I was having trouble dragging my eyes from the myriad, twitching legs. “Certainly not. It was inevitable that I confront Lydia. I will simply do so without surprise. Perhaps you should go—” I looked at him and stopped.
Lord Wellington’s jaw was corded in pain. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. On his shaking wrist, I saw the discoloring, twin punctures of a crawler sting.
“I am in no condition to ride,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will be done for soon enough. You must run. They may yet free Darcy.”
“No. The Britons can treat this! They have draca essence—”
A man in an ill-fitting English uniform stepped out of the brush, his musket leveled at me. Another emerged and pressed the barrel of his pistol against Lord Wellington’s temple.