A Veil of Secrets (12 page)

“They are loud and unpredictable,” he agreed. “It might be the safest option for them.”

I lowered my voice. “I am interested in Pascale’s poison darts. They would make things easier.”

He nodded. “How can we get them off her?”

“You can’t.” Pascale strolled into view. “I do apologize. Generally, I pretend I can’t hear others’ conversations out of politeness, but considering I was the topic, well, I felt justified in barging in.”

I met her gaze squarely. “Then you heard our argument as to why you can’t go.”

“I did, and your theory might be valid.” She paused. “All I’m asking is for a chance to prove it.”

“Why does this matter so much to you? You might die, and then where would your family be?”

“Better off,” she said. “I said before I want justice for my clan, and I meant it.”

“Maven Lourdes would hold the Salticidae responsible for your death,” Asher warned.

“She can hardly lay waste to her husband’s people.” She wrinkled her nose at the smell. “They’re as safe as they ever were. Don’t let their humble surroundings fool you. They have stores of wealth you would not believe. I think they try too hard to tread the line between their tradition and their means.”

“Fair enough.” I understood being indebted to someone you loved. “What about Lleu?”

“You said you have two sigils. Asher gets one, and let me have the other.” She glanced past her shoulder. “Lleu has a destiny that I don’t. He has a chance to—” She stopped herself. “He can’t die.”

Asher canted his head. “No matter how noble your intentions, he won’t sit by and let you go.”

“I know.” She patted her thigh, above the leather holster for her poisons. “I can handle him.”

“Lleu is a friend of mine,” Asher began. “Maven’s sister or not, I won’t let you harm him.”

“You think I would?” She scoffed. “You have no idea. None.”

“Let us try it her way.” Dangerous hope welled in my chest. “With her help, this might work.”

“All right.” Asher put the knife in my hand. “I trust you.”

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

His smile dazzled me. “I would have given you that knife much sooner if I had known—”

I kissed him on the mouth.

If we found another way in and he could follow me, especially if Pascale came too, I would have my hands full of people to protect. There was so slim a chance for all three of us making it back, it seemed to me the thing to do was to thank him as well as I knew how for all his kindness.

Surprise sweetened his reaction.

When his lips parted, I felt the moment his fangs distended. They almost pierced my tongue. My stomach tightened at the scrape of them over my lips, the flavor of his venom tempering our kiss.

His breathing shallowed. “What was that for?”

I tasted his pleased smile. “Does it have to be for a reason?”

“I would prefer if it were.” He nipped me. “How else can I replicate the circumstances?”

I shook my head at him. Impossible male.

The speed at which his moods switched from infuriating to charming made my head spin.

Pascale gasped. “Are you two mad?” She pried us apart. “Think of your husband.” She jabbed a fingernail into Asher’s shoulder. “As for you—well, I’m honestly not surprised after all the mooning you’ve done over her.” She thumped the back of my head. “Edan’s not dead yet. Gods be merciful.”

Asher caught her wrist before she thumped me again and twisted her arm behind her back.

“Thanks for ruining that,” he growled.

“Let her go.” Lleu walked into view. “You want to make out with another’s wife, that’s not my problem. Keeping Pascale safe, even from herself, is.” He waved his hand. “Come on. Back to me.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and tried not to laugh. I ended up snorting.

“You mean out of all the secrets Henri chose to tell you, he neglected that one?”

“What do you mean?” Lleu gave up waiting on Pascale to flounce to him and fetched her.

“Edan is my brother.” I held up my ringless hand and wiggled my fingers. “We aren’t married.”

“Oh?” Lleu’s grip on Pascale slipped as he paused to rake his gaze over me. “Is that so?”

“You should have told us the truth.” She stared down her nose at me. “It’s still inappropriate to carry on the way you were.”

“You live through what I have, and then you can judge me.” I carried enough guilt as it was. “Unless, do you want to make an exchange? What is it Lleu’s so afraid you know about him?”

“Marne.” She hissed at me. “Let’s not toss me in front of a rampaging ursus, shall we?”

His nostrils flared. “You’ve made your point.”

I gripped the knife’s handle tighter in my fist. “Are we all in agreement?”

All but Lleu nodded. His pinched expression darkened even further upon realizing we had made a plan without consulting him. When I plunged the blade in the carcass and sawed, his eyes widened. His forehead creased. “This is what we all agreed to?”

“Yes,” I said, and regretted it when the taste of death settled in my mouth.

“All right then.” He drew a knife from his belt and tossed one to Asher. “Let’s get it done.”

And so we did.

Chapter Fourteen

Covered in gore and smelling of things I would rather have never smelled in the first place, I sat back on my heels with a sigil on each palm. My hands shook. My muscles tensed, ready to fling the horrid things if they so much as batted a wing at me. Except neither had them. They were plump and sleek, like grubs, and white film covered their bodies as though someone had wrapped them in paper.

Sigils were the color of burnished copper. Their shapes were wasp-like, and they were heavy as stones. While each one varied, most were the size of my balled fist. These were more robust, though.

Henri had wondered at first if they were mechanical constructs, but nothing made with gears and pins consumed the flesh of the living. Machines lacked the ability to experience hunger as sigils did.

Even in slumber, they exuded menace. Without their stingers or wings, they still repulsed me.

I tried holding them, I did, but I couldn’t stand to touch them. I all but threw them on the ground and scrambled away from them, trying to draw air into my lungs. It was all too easy to remember the prick of their nasty stingers, the drugging sickness they pumped in me, the horrid voice in my head.

“This won’t hurt but a moment,” Idra promised. “Just a tiny prick and you’ll be mine.”

“Edan…” I mumbled, fever crazed and burning. “Please. My brother… I can’t stay.”

“You must.” She kissed my forehead. “No one will accept what you are but me.”

“What I am?”

She spun through the air on gilded wings. “Necrita.”

“What have you done?” I shoved upright, gut pitching as my bed swayed. “My back hurts.”

She swatted her hand. “It’s your wings, darling.”

“My—” I reached behind me and found four translucent wings, soft as a baby’s cheek.

“They harden with time, if that’s what concerns you.”

“Wings.” My voice cracked. “I have wings.”

I meant to stand, but there was no floor beneath me. Instead I plummeted through a gilded dome hung with more beds like mine. More pale faces like hers peered over their edges at me. Suddenly, I was glad to have fallen. Whatever those creatures were, they weren’t Araneaean. I refused to be one.

“Marne.”

Gentle hands shook my shoulders.

“She having a seizure or something?”

“No, she’s not having a seizure.”

The tumble of voices through my ears helped me blink away the past.

I came to myself lying in the grass on my side, curled into a ball. Asher’s hands were on me. For a terrible second, I thought—but Idra wasn’t here now. This was Asher. I was safe.

“Are you all right?” He pushed sweaty hairs from my face.

I took his hand and curled around it. “I thought it would be easier.”

He rubbed my shoulder. “We can try another way if you want.”

“The only other way is if I go alone.” I was willing. I had stayed behind not even out of concern for Asher. I had stayed behind because I knew there was strength in numbers, and I needed support.

His grip tightened on me. “That is not an option.”

“Here.” Pascale passed a waterskin over his shoulder. “Drink something. You need to wash that stench out of your mouth.” She pried Asher from me and pulled me upright. “The river is just there. I think you should get yourself cleaned up before we enter the veil. The males should too. We brought spare clothes. They won’t fit you or Asher exactly, but they’re close enough. No. Don’t argue. You can’t go in there stinking of sour blood. Not if you want any hope of maintaining the element of surprise.”

She had a point, and any clothes she brought would be a better fit than my makeshift dress.

Pascale smirked. “I see from your scowl you agree with me, even though you don’t want to.”

“We’re going to wash up.” She led me back to camp and slung a bag on her shoulder. The males had both followed us, and she wrinkled her nose when she looked at them. “You two do the same.”

“As the tyrant wishes.” Lleu mock saluted her.

I finally drew myself together and asked, “Where are the sigils?”

Asher lifted a tin Lleu must have brought with him. “They’re in here.”

“Good.” I breathed easier already. “Keep an eye on them.”

Lleu eyed the tin. “Are they still alive?”

“I’m not sure. I think so. How else could they have eaten so much of the ursus? That pale skin makes me think they might be in a chrysalis phase.” I rolled my shoulders. “I don’t know. I wasn’t with Idra long enough for her to teach me about them. I’m guessing about this the same as we all are.”

“Let’s get this done.” Pascale glanced skyward. “We’re losing the light.”

It took some time to reach the river, and more time to scrub myself clean. Pascale had refused to touch the ursus corpse, so she sat on the shore and pretended not to stare while I washed myself with my back to her. The air all but vibrated with her unasked questions, but she kept her mouth shut, and I offered her no enlightenment. I did debate which she would ask about first—the scars or the wings.

“How did you get those scars?”

I smiled to myself. She chose the less obvious, the better to ease me into conversation.

“My master whipped me when I was disobedient.” I smirked. “I misbehaved often.”

“He wasn’t worried they might show?” She sounded incredulous.

“Fashions being what they were, there was little chance anyone would see them.” I shrugged. “I doubt anyone would have had the nerve to comment on them. He was a very influential male, and no one would have wanted to bring themselves to his notice. Besides the fact I was a lowly slave girl.”

“That doesn’t make what he did right.” Fabric rustled behind me. “I can’t believe people are still so backwards in their beliefs these days. How they can justify slavery is beyond me.” Pascale huffed. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you and Edan escaped. The circumstances weren’t ideal, but still.”

“Until last week I was glad too.” At least if we had stayed in Fortunia, he would be alive.

“That is your grief talking.” Pascale’s sigh carried to me. “Don’t mourn him again. Not yet.”

I nodded and resumed my washing. She had no idea how fast the plague infected a host, no concept of how time moved in the crossroads. Only I had experienced it, and I had no idea what magic was at work there. Time had moved slower. Did that mean his illness would too? I wasn’t sure, and there was no one to ask. I had to hope I would find him soon. Since we were so near Beltania, Old Father might be able to administer the cure before it was too late.

After sinking under the water to rinse the bloodstains from my hair, I surfaced with a gasp and waded to shore. Pascale was waiting with a pale blue, sleeveless dress. She had been busy while I bathed. She had cut out the upper portion of the back so my wings had room to move in case I needed to fly.

“Here.” She waited while I stepped into the dress. “Let me help.”

I felt her fingers move across my back and heard the sound of metal snaps catching. At once the dress fit tighter. Not constrictive, exactly, but it would have to do. I had no other clothing options.

“You look lovely.” She grabbed me by the hair and began combing.

I was grateful my back was still to her so she missed the faces I made.

It was apparent in the way she tugged without consideration of pain that she had never brushed another person’s hair until now. If she had, I prayed they hadn’t been tender-headed. My eyes watered as she raked the comb through my hair.

“There,” she said at last. “All done.”

I blinked my eyes a few times before facing her. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” She repacked her supplies, and we made our way back to the males.

Lleu and Asher were scrubbed clean and dressed in fresh clothes. Lleu’s shaggy blond hair was damp and dripped onto his collar. Asher’s was combed with a precise part and slicked to his head. It made for a starker contrast between their clothing. Lleu’s fit him, of course, but Asher’s pants hung too long, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. His entire person seemed to sag, but he still looked formidable to me. When he spotted me, I was rewarded with a tender smile that made my wings flutter. My feet hovered just above the ground until Pascale clamped a hand on my forearm.

She laughed at me. “I’ve heard it said that love gives a person wings, but this is too literal.”

“I was merely drying my wings.” I flicked them in her direction.

The danger in spending so much time with Asher was the potent feeling of knowing that he accepted me in a way Edan never had. I was Edan’s sister. Therefore, he loved me unconditionally.

I was no one to Asher. I had nothing of value. I was a sickly outcast that would never fit into the Araneae society. Yet he chose to stand by me, to protect me. He made me feel safe, and that was a dizzying concept. For someone who had few allies and fewer friends, his attention was heady.

“Are we ready?” Asher sidled up to me but directed his question to Pascale.

Her smile remained fixed in place, but her eyes were haunted as she reached for her blowpipe.

She struck so fast, Lleu never saw her lips purse or her breath exhale.

He grasped a red dart in his neck, and his eyes bulged. “I’ll skin you for this, you little…”

Lleu dropped to his knees, and Pascale caught him. Asher and I rushed to help ease him onto his back. The poison worked. He couldn’t lift an arm to swat at us. After several more seconds, his chest began rising and falling with even breaths. He had fallen deeply asleep as we made him comfortable.

“I worry about leaving him here.” Pascale pushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

“The alternative was letting him come with us.” I took my sheet and covered him. “If he fought us in the veil and we had to sedate him there, I would worry whatever creature collects the tithes for the gods would steal him or harm him. He’s safer out here than he would be in there. He’ll be furious when he wakes, so we best start searching for the crossroads before he stirs and comes after us.”

“Let’s go.” She rose and dusted off her skirt. “Before I change my mind.”

Pascale set the pace. Her chain kept her from walking too quickly, and we had to stick together.

“There are few predators left in the southlands,” Asher said. “I doubt anything disturbs him.”

The greatest threat, though none of us said it and all must be thinking it, came from risers.

But the Salticidae were aware of the danger. Mimetidae patrols had kept their lands clean so far. There must be a reason why the risers hadn’t crossed the veil into the southlands after us. I believed he was safe from harm on that score. I thought it much more likely they were guarding the other side to prevent me from escaping back into the safety of the northlands now that Idra had trapped me.

“Do you have the sigils?” I matched Asher’s strides.

“They’re in my pack.” His gaze lingered on me. “The cut of that dress flatters you.”

“Do you mean the way it pushes my breasts up to my chin or its absence of a back?”

He chuckled. “Must I choose only one when I find both features so appealing?”

I clicked my tongue at him. “You are shameless.”

“You are beautiful,” he said earnestly. “Perhaps if you were less lovely, I might behave better.”

“You are a handsome male, and I seem to have no trouble behaving around you.”

His chest expanded. “Handsome, am I?”

“You know perfectly well you are, or you wouldn’t spend so much time on your appearance.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make a good first impression.”

I ruffled his hair. “You know everyone here, and we have all duly been impressed.”

He let me make a mess of his careful style, proving his appearance didn’t matter. He might have fooled me, except that his fingers twitched at his side and his arm lifted twice I saw before he caught himself and lowered it. How it must pain him to be dressed so humbly and to have such mussed hair.

Once my amusement over his predicament waned, I squeezed his arm. “Thank you.”

His expression could only be described as wary. “For?”

“Distracting me.” Sometimes it almost worked. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

“You give me too much credit.” His face relaxed. “Flirting with you is no hardship.”

“Except to those who are forced to overhear it,” Pascale grumbled. “What are we looking for?”

“Denser pockets of mist.” I shrugged. “Roads that crisscross this one.”

“All right.” She nodded. “Sounds simple enough.”

We walked in a perpetual loop for what seemed like hours, with only flat road to tell us if we were making progress or caught in some trap. As before, the path ahead was blurred and distant, the trail behind was clear and welcoming. We could have turned around and left at any time.

But then Idra would have won, and I couldn’t bear that.

“Can we rest for a bit?” Pascale’s cheeks were flushed, and her steps were painfully slow.

Asher made no comment, letting me decide for us.

“As we seem to be making no progress, we might as well break while we can.”

“Good.” Pascale dropped where she stood. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could make it.”

Asher sat beside me and pulled a waterskin from his pack for us to share. He handed it to me first, but I passed it to Pascale. When she leaned forward, her dress shifted to expose her ankles. They were raw and bleeding where the silken chains had cut into her skin.

My hand went to my mouth. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I knew what I signed on for.” She covered her legs. “It will heal.”

It would, but gods knew it had to hurt.

A tensing in my stomach forced me to find a new place to look. The smell of Pascale’s blood hit my nose, and the hunger that had been mercifully absent since Edan’s abduction reared its ugly head.

Asher’s quiet told me he was piecing together what the issue might be. He reached into his pack and brought out one of the packets of dried meat Lleu had passed around earlier. Asher pressed one strip into my hand before tearing another in half and sharing it with Pascale. She took it and chewed.