Chapter

22

Kieran

Susan’s skin turned as white as Lyric’s walls while Markkel wasted precious moments blasting me with violent accusations. He finally explained she’d had problems with her heart. So why did they stupidly venture into Hazor without a plan and predictably get themselves captured? I didn’t bother to ask.

I sent one of the guards to the palace. Hazor didn’t have healers like the clans did, but Zarek had a practitioner who seemed to have some skill with injuries and illnesses. I had the uneasy feeling that his craft was tied in to some sort of hill-god worship, but Susan needed help fast.

Her lips were turning blue. I pressed my hand against her neck. I couldn’t feel any blood thrumming past.

“Don’t touch her.” Markkel wrapped his arms farther around her.

And to think that when the cell door had first opened to reveal the two of them, I’d had a moment of hope that this might be the One’s answer to my pleas for help. Susan would know how to teach Hazor about the One. That optimistic thought had lasted until Markkel grabbed my throat. I’d have lost the respect of the Hazorite soldiers if I let him get away with that, so I separated them. Markkel’s panic had been obvious when I ordered the guards to take Susan out, and I let him jump to every wrong conclusion he could. He deserved to worry. Of course, his animosity now was understandable.

Markkel stopped glowering and focused all his attention on his wife.

I tried again to find a pulse along her neck. I focused my hearing. Markkel’s heartbeat crashed through his veins, not a hint of breath or life resonated from Susan. “We can’t wait for the practitioner,” I said. “Her heart stopped. It’ll be too late.”

“Do something!”

Was Markkel’s anguished cry directed toward me or the One? I took one of Susan’s cold hands in mine and thought about the One as I had met him in a rock-strewn canyon in the mist. “I know You’re here. She needs You. Tell me what to do.” I whispered the words and tried to ignore how lifeless she felt without blood pulsing under the skin of her throat, and without warmth to her hand. I blocked out the waves of distrust radiating from Markkel and shut out my own rising fear.

When I closed my eyes, I saw the holy mist again. Among the fog, three figures appeared. In the vision Markkel sat on the floor, cradling Susan’s limp body. My form knelt beside them, one hand searching for signs of life along the arteries of her neck. Then I saw Him. The Warrior I had met in the flesh. He crouched beside her with a tender smile and rested a hand against her forehead. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear the words. Then the picture floated away.

I dared to open my eyes. A hint of color bloomed across the skin at Susan’s throat and spread, tinting the pallor of her face. Warmth returned to her hand, and the glow of circulation moved up her arm. Just as I made out the steady rhythm of her heart again, she stirred.

Markkel gasped, gathering her closer and murmuring to her. Susan’s eyes opened, and she smiled up at him.

I let go and sank back, suddenly aware that all the strength had left my bones. A tight pressure squeezed my chest and made it a struggle to breathe. I dropped my head forward and concentrated on taking deep, shuddering swallows of air. The pain eased slowly.

When I looked up, Markkel and Susan stared at me. The mix of expressions was enough to make me want to laugh, but I didn’t have the energy for that yet.

“A Restorer gift?” Susan pulled herself up, still wrapped in Markkel’s arms.

I nodded. I felt queasy and hoped they wouldn’t start yelling at me again.

“So you’re still the Restorer?”

Markkel’s question startled me. “That’s why I’m here. The One told me to bring the Verses to Hazor.” I managed both sentences with only a few pauses to breathe.

Comprehension bloomed across Susan’s face like the new color in her complexion. “Kieran, I’m so sorry. We thought . . .”

“I know what you thought.”

Markkel frowned. “But what about Jake?”

I shook my head. “I brought him to Tristan. That’s all I know.”

Some of the anguish returned to their eyes. I staggered to my feet. I didn’t want the guards to come back, find me sprawled on the floor, and think they needed to kill these two prisoners. “Are you all right now?” I asked Susan.

She took a deep breath. “Yes.” She sprang up with more energy than I felt.

“Then could we please sit down and talk?” I glared at Markkel, who stood with a protective arm around Susan again. “And could I point out that it is not a good idea to attack the king’s advisor if you want to get out of here alive?”

The guards returned at that moment, and I stepped out of the room to tell them everything was under control and to thank the practitioner for his time, though he was no longer needed. The soldiers gave each other uneasy glances before closing the door to resume their post. Great. They’d be spreading rumors about how I nearly killed a prisoner after only a few moments of interrogation. Oh, well. In Hazor that was a good reputation to have.

I slumped into a chair across from Markkel and Susan.

He still looked shaken. “You saved her? You can do that?”

“Sometimes the One gives me a vision and . . . things happen.” It was too hard to explain.

Susan leaned forward, her eyes as bright as Jake’s when he watched me use my lock scrambler. “And do you hear His voice sometimes?”

I nodded, but before we could start comparing experiences, Markkel interrupted. “You saved her. Again.”

I had wondered whether he’d forgotten I’d defended her against Kahlareans after the battle with Hazor.

“I owe you.” His words were strained but sincere.

About time he realized it. Of course, when he rode into battle with the lost clans he had done more than any single person to save Braide Wood, but I didn’t bring that up. Better to have him in my debt.

“So where is Jake?” Susan asked. “Could he have followed you?”

“Why would he do that?”

“Tara said he admired you and trusted you. She thought he might have seen you leave and decided to go with you.”

It was a kinder theory than thinking I’d kidnapped him, but it still didn’t make sense. “I traveled fast. He’s not an experienced tracker. And if he had been close, I would have heard him.”

“You mean he might be lost somewhere in Hazor?” Susan didn’t seem aware of the way she was tapping her fist against the table.

“Are you sure he wasn’t still somewhere in Braide Wood?”

Markkel nodded. “Tristan and I looked everywhere.”

Not good news. “All right. Don’t panic. Tell me everything you’ve done since you came to the clans. Everywhere you’ve searched.”

They looked at each other and communicated with one of those significant silences I’ve seen Tristan and Kendra exchange. Then Susan nodded and they started their story. They interrupted each other enough to make my head ache. I was tempted to roll my eyes at some of the clumsy things they’d done, but I forced myself to listen closely. When they finished, I asked them to tell me all of it again.

Arriving in Lyric, approaching Jorgen for help, learning that Jake had been seen, asking Cameron for information, being shadowed by Council guards, sharing the new Song at the assembly, the attack by Kahlareans, the decision to get Tristan’s help, the arrival in Braide Wood.

I began to form some guesses. By the time they ended their second narrative, answers grew obvious to me. “You really don’t see?”

They looked back at me blankly.

I didn’t disguise my irritation. “Think! Who would benefit the most from having Jake?”

Susan winced. “Well, we thought you maybe . . .”

“Yeah. We’ve been over that. You figured I’d, what, use him as a hostage to bargain my way back into the clans?” I shook my head. “Stupid theory, and now you know it’s not true. Who else?”

Markkel squeezed the bridge of his nose. “The Kahlareans?”

“A better guess. But I don’t think so. They had opportunities before Jake and I reached Braide Wood and didn’t take him. And it doesn’t fit their pattern.”

Susan’s spine stiffened and she gasped. “Cameron.”

I nodded. “He has people reporting to him in every clan. As soon as you left his office, he wouldn’t only have assigned guards to watch you. He would have sent out word to watch for a strange, fair-haired youth to turn up in one of the clans. He probably guessed Jake was yours, but even if he didn’t, Cameron knew he was significant to you. That would be enough for him to want him.”

Susan jumped to her feet. “We’ve got to get back to Lyric.”

Sometimes she tended to ignore obvious obstacles. Markkel reached for her hand. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows in question.

I shrugged. “I’ll talk to him, but I don’t know if Zarek will let you leave.”

Susan sank back down, finally remembering they were prisoners.

“I was hoping you’d help me teach the people of Hazor about the One,” I said, looking at her.

She met my eyes. “I’m sorry, Kieran. For a lot of things. And I’m especially sorry I can’t help. But we have to find Jake and get home.” The softness left her voice. “And if you can’t get us out of here, we’ll find our own way.”

Terrific. She’d get them both killed. And she’d ruin the fragile alliance I was building with Zarek.

I leaned forward. “Give me your word that you won’t do anything. Both of you.”

They exchanged another one of those significant looks.

“Susan, you don’t understand how things work. At the moment we may have some options. If you do something crazy, you could ruin any hope.”

A tremor ran through her. “I can’t sit here knowing that Cameron might have Jake.”

Markkel took her hand. “If Cameron thinks Jake will be useful to him, he won’t hurt him.”

“That’s what you thought about me. You didn’t believe Cameron would hurt me.” A bitter edge sharpened Susan’s voice.

“But Jake isn’t the Restorer. He wouldn’t have a bad reaction to Cameron’s drugs.” Markkel’s attempts to reassure her were making things worse.

Susan looked ready to bolt from the room and take on the soldiers barehanded. As a child I’d seen Tara plunge through a swarm of stinging beetles to rescue Tag from a tree she’d climbed. Mothers did irrational things out of fear for their children. And Susan didn’t seem to remember she no longer had Restorer gifts. The impatient, zealous gleam in her eyes guaranteed trouble.

“Enough.” I pushed my chair back and stood up. “I’m willing to do what I can, but it’s clear you don’t trust me.”

Susan looked up at me. “It’s not that we don’t trust you. But we can’t wait while—”

“You don’t have a choice.” I walked to the door and hit the lever to slide it open. “Take him back to the cell.”

The guard led Markkel out. He gave me a worried look but didn’t resist. He understood the way things worked in this world, even if Susan didn’t.

Susan started to follow, but I grabbed her arm. “Wait, I need to talk to you.”

She turned uncertain eyes on me.

I wished I could reason with her, reassure her, persuade her to be patient. But it would take too long and probably wouldn’t do any good. Right now I just needed to keep her out of trouble. The Hazorite prison guards weren’t like Lyric guardians. They didn’t wait for excuses to hurt people. “I’m having you moved to a different part of the prison.”

She jerked her arm away and opened her mouth to argue.

I kept talking. “The prison warden will report to me. If you do anything—try to escape, insult a guard, anything—Markkel will be the one to suffer.”

She recoiled as if I’d slapped her.

I fought the urge to apologize or explain. I could see her mind working—grasping for wild solutions then reluctantly realizing she had no options. As anger settled in her face, I knew I was also killing my hopes for a helpful conversation with a past Restorer. She wouldn’t easily forgive me for this. But maybe with luck, she’d survive and eventually get out of Hazor.

I stepped out of the room and spoke to the guards. I explained she was in protective custody of the king and was to be treated well. When they escorted her away, she scorched me with her glare, but behind her rage I saw the hurt of disillusionment.

What did she expect me to do? Maybe she’d be a little more grateful for my help and advice after she stewed for a while.

I trudged back to the palace, trying to figure out the best way to approach Zarek. When I reached my rooms, I asked a herald to request an audience with the king when he was available.

Before I opened the door to my rooms, another herald came running down the hall. “Excuse me. There is someone at the palace gate who’s been asking to speak with you. He’s very insistent. Should we send him away?”

Now what? I wanted peace and quiet. And lunch. I rolled my tight shoulders. “No, bring him here.”

I entered my rooms, leaving the door open behind me. Drained from the events of the morning, I poured myself some water and sank into a chair. When I looked up a short time later, the herald had returned with my visitor. The mug almost dropped from my hand, and I fumbled to set it down.

What was he doing here?