Daybreak (3 page)

It was always the same complaint, always the same ragged moan — and Crevan was growing tired of hearing it. “I’ve given you the run of my mages. Find someone else to carry the other chains.”

“I’ve been trying, Your Majesty. But this is a
living
impetus. Its power grows with each new link. It feeds off the creatures it controls — and if a mage isn’t strong enough to wield it, the chains will devour him.” Ulric nodded to the front of the room, where a number of shriveled bones lay piled in a corner.

They’d tried several times to pass the links on to the other fortress mages: some who had more experience, others who were young and strong. But the chain had devoured each one.

It’d snaked up their bodies and coiled around them tightly. Crevan didn’t look away the first time it happened. He’d watched the chain crush an older mage beneath it. The impetus had drained him of everything: his blood, his marrow, his innards. It’d soaked him up, screaming, like water into a sponge. Then it’d slunk back to Ulric and wrapped around his arm, glowing in content.

“No, there’s only one mage in the fortress who might be strong enough to bear it.” Ulric’s eyes dragged upwards. There were dark, heavy rings beneath them. “I await your order.”

Crevan knew what he wanted. For whatever reason, Ulric was convinced that Argon was the only mage strong enough to carry the chains — which might solve their problem, if it were true.

But if it wasn’t …

“I won’t risk my Seer. As long as the Dragongirl remains unbound —”

“The Seer is blind! What good is he to us —?”

“Silence,” Crevan growled. The whole impetus came alive at his command, and Ulric’s mouth snapped shut. “You forget, mage, that I could end you with a word. Do not interrupt me again.”

Sweat slung off the archmage’s chin as his head bobbed up and down.

“Good. I’ve taken care of D’Mere, but I’ll need your mages for the chancellor’s castle. I’d like all the councilmen burned alive in their chairs and the island sunk to the ocean’s bottom. The people of the High Seas should never have any reason to believe they can survive on their own. Leave them with nothing — make sure they are never able to rebuild.”

Ulric moaned as he nodded.

“As for the dragon,” Crevan went on, “I believe the time has come —”

“Your Majesty?” a guard called from the door. He leaned around it carefully, as if he preferred to keep a few inches of oak between his chest and Crevan’s sword. “It’s the Seer, Your Majesty. He says he needs to speak with you.”

“Send him in,” Crevan growled.

The guard stepped aside and Argon shuffled quietly into the room. His head was bent low and nearly hidden by his long, gray beard. He was so thin and frail a thing that a single trip down the stairs might’ve left him in pieces — and he moved at a pace that made Crevan want to strangle him with his beard.
 

“What is it?” he snapped.

“Your Majesty,” Argon whispered, his voice hardly a breath. “I have news.”

“No he doesn’t.” Ulric lurched forward. “He knows he’s useless. He’s just trying to save his sk —”

“Silence!” Crevan glared until Ulric slunk back. Then he turned to Argon. “What news?”

The Seer raised his head, revealing the thick trail of blood matted into his beard. It’d run out from his nose and spilled down in falls. His nostrils were still swollen from the pain. “I’ve Seen something, Your Majesty … a powerful vision.”

Crevan could hardly breathe. “Tell me.”

“The Dragongirl …”

His stomach twisted; his blood froze again. “Yes, what about her? Speak up, Seer!”

Crevan grabbed Argon by the front of his robes and shook him hard. The Seer’s eyes rolled back as if he clung to life. “Copperdock,” he rasped. “I’ve Seen her in … Copperdock.”

Crevan shoved him aside. His legs shook as he stumbled towards the guard. “Sound the bells, have my army ready to march at dawn! I will fill the Kingdom with Midlan’s fury. We’ll stretch to every corner of the realm.
She will not escape
!” 

He chased the guards out the door, bellowing at them long after they’d scattered down the hall. Then he spun to Argon. “Get in your tower, Seer. Do not sleep, do not blink. I want to know where she is at every moment. Do you understand?”

Argon’s head sagged as he shuffled for the door. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Crevan grabbed Ulric and hurled him away. “Forget about the council. I’ll send Greyson to deal with them once the ground has thawed. Wake the mages — all of them. Lead the swiftest to Copperdock and scatter the rest. I want eyes in every region. Do not return until you have her bound. And bring Devin along as well,” he added, as a wild grin split his face. “I think it’s time the Kingdom met my dragon.”

Morning light bounced off the pool of ocean trapped within the white cliffs of Gravy Bay. Ships sat anchored by their bottoms to the rocks beneath the waves. One lone vessel sailed across the pool — a tiny fishing boat guided on by two darkened forms of men.

Elena watched until the vessel slipped into the narrow crack between the jutting cliffs. Only when its end had disappeared did she dare to blink.

“Well, I suppose that settles it,” Jake said from beside her.

They were alone, now. The whole rest of the wedding party had followed Kael’s sprint down the hill and into the village square. A great fountain stood in the square’s middle, surrounded by a mass of houses that were decorated strangely with statues and plunder.
 

The villagers’ colorful garments formed what looked like an enormous puddle around the fountain. If she closed her eyes, Elena could hear the trill of a cheerful song floating up from where the pirates danced — celebrating the wedding of the Dragongirl and the Wright.

“They’re going to go on like that all day,” Jake murmured. 

When she glanced at him, she saw the shadow of a smile played across his lips. The pale blue eyes behind his rounded spectacles glowed warmly in the rising sun. 

“
And
it’ll go on all night. Believe me — I’ve already survived one pirate wedding. We’d better join them, I suppose. Uncle Martin wanted me to turn the fountain’s water into spirits.” He frowned. “Though after what happened the last time, I can’t imagine why …”

He went on about skin turning purple and some misfortune involving a goat, but Elena wasn’t listening. She watched his lips move through his words, watched his hands flex against the leathery grip of his too-tight gloves —
her
gloves. The ones she’d given him … 

The gloves he’d cared enough about to turn into his impetus.

By the time his eyes had traveled back to hers, she’d decided. Her mind was entirely made up. It was a certainty she’d been waiting months to feel — and if she didn’t grasp it now, it might never come again.

There was no time to doubt.

Jake’s story stopped abruptly when he saw how her brows had tightened above her mask. “What —?”

“Not a word, mage.” Elena’s heart squirmed when she pressed her hand against his mouth. “Not one word. Do you understand?”

He nodded, his eyes wide.

“Good. Now come with me.”

She’d gotten used to his scent, but the raw magic inside his impetus still itched her badly. So she dragged him down the hill by the sleeve of his robes, instead.

“Where are we —?”

“No, not a word,” she snapped as they reached the hill’s base. Her heart thudded so viciously that it shook her smile.

Jake managed to hold his tongue until they’d pushed through the mansion’s front door. “But what are you —?”

“
Shhh
!” Her finger trembled against his lips. “Hush. Just … trust me for a moment, will you?”

He nodded, and she led him up the large spiral staircase — her breath quickening with every step.

Her chamber stood at the end of the hall, its door hidden well within the shadows. Warm light spilled from her window: it pooled upon the oaken floors and slid across her bed. Elena’s heart was thudding wildly, now. She was certain she’d never felt it beat quite like this.

It was such a strange feeling, such a terrifying thrill — not even when she’d stared into the face of Death had her chest risen and fallen with such fury. She had to bite her lip to keep her heart from leaping out her throat as she dragged Jake inside.
 

She slammed the door behind them.

“Elena …”

At last, Jake seemed to understand. His eyes didn’t rove but locked onto hers — searching, questioning. With far more courage than she felt, Elena managed to growl: “I’m not going to tell you again, mage. Be quiet.” She pulled her mask away slowly, let it fall to her chin. “Now … take off your gloves.”

He did. Jake grimaced as he tugged them free and set them on the small table beside her bed. Next came his spectacles. When he turned around, it was all she could do to keep her footing. 

He stood blurry-eyed and powerless before her. His bare hands flexed nervously at his sides. And yet … her legs felt like lead, her boots seemed welded to the floors. “Come here.”

When he stepped within her reach, she caught him by the wrists. She pulled him in against her. A strange, heart-rending warmth spread out from his hands and across her waist, down her back. But though his hands moved, his eyes never left hers — and his gaze held her to her feet.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, hands pausing their climb. “You … you’re certain?”

Her heart was too high, her throat too swollen with warmth to answer. Instead, she grabbed him under the chin and pulled him down to meet her lips.

Oh, her head went light. Every pinprick of her flesh bunched together tightly in a swell of blood. She could taste the magic in him. It coated his tongue: not as bitter as she’d expected, but oddly … sweet.

His hands rose and his thumbs dragged across the twin black daggers strapped to her arms — bold and unafraid. She’d lost count of how many throats they’d hewed. Slight and Shadow had sent hundreds of men to their graves. And yet, Jake handled them without fear.

A thrill rose up her spine, trembling as Jake drew each blade from its sheath and set them aside. Then his lips came back — firm, calm, and brave. Warmth trailed each pass of his hands, every dart of his tongue …
 

Then quite suddenly, the warmth began to fade.

She felt it first at his lips: they brushed gently across her chin and left a cold line in their wake. The frost spread from his tongue and onto hers. It slid down her throat and into her middle. Icy patches formed beneath his hands. Everywhere he touched, he froze her. 

Soon, she couldn’t feel anything. Her skin eased and slipped back, hardening across her bones like a river’s flesh against the winter. It dulled the pressure of Jake’s hands. Her arms slid from around his shoulders and fell limply to her sides — suddenly too heavy to lift. 

Jake’s hands seemed to widen, to grow, to become impossibly strong. The pressure began to hurt her; the cold stung her lips — 

No
, she thought furiously. Elena squinched her eyes and tried to concentrate on the warmth she’d felt before — tried to remind herself that it was
Jake
who held her now. And Jake would never try to hurt her. But out of the dark came a face that wasn’t Jake’s at all. 

Holthan’s black eyes stared down at her, now. It was the biting pressure of
his
lips that she felt scraping down her throat, the painful grip of
his
hands. It was Holthan’s horrible, gloating laugh that stung her ears …

“Elena?”

All of the cold fled her body as Jake pulled away. Her eyes snapped open. They clung to his, trying desperately to forget the man who ruled her fears. But though she fought, a shadow of his face still hung before her.

“Are you all right, Elena?” Jake said again. He half-reached for her and drew back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You aren’t going to hurt me. I’m fine. Don’t … don’t stop.” 

She rushed into his arms.
 

The cold rushed back.
 

Elena tried to fight it off. She was determined to shove Holthan away, to forget everything she’d known and begin something new. Nadine told her that she’d been wronged — that what Holthan had done to her wasn’t love at all. She swore that
love
was different, and Elena knew she loved Jake. She was certain of it …

So why did the cold still bite her flesh? Why couldn’t she see him through Holthan’s face?

“I can’t,” Jake gasped. He pulled back again and hurried to the bedside table. “I can’t do this to you, Elena. I won’t.”

“You will,” she snapped, the words bolstered by a sudden fear. Rage burned at the sides of her head as she watched him pull on his gloves. “You have to! I swear I’m ready for it. There’s not a doubt in my mind that this is what I —”

“I can’t,” Jake said again, shoving the spectacles up the bridge of his nose. He wouldn’t meet her eyes as he swept past her to the door.

When he opened it, Elena felt the whole earth fall out from beneath her.

“Fine. Go on, then! But don’t you dare try to come back to me, mage,” she yelled as he ducked into the hallway. “Don’t
ever
come back!”

*******

Days passed. The sun rose and fell. Its light gathered, pooled … slid into the crack between the walls and floor … plunged the world into darkness. Elena sat cross-legged in a corner of the room. Her eyes were open, but unseeing.

What’d happened with Jake was entirely her fault. She should’ve known that he would pull away at her slightest flinch. He was so careful, so kind. Had she held her ground against the memories, she might’ve woken that morning with him by her side — her heart flooded with warmth.
 

Instead, she battled the cold alone, fought on through endless nights … and she was still no closer to forgetting.

Each time she tried to force him into the darkness, Holthan rose against her. Every horrible moment flashed behind her eyes — glancing her with a dagger’s bite. She watched through a cold, blue film as he defeated her over and over again. Soon, it became clear that she would never overcome his laughter. She would never be able to shove his hands aside.