Promising Light (33 page)

Dar pulled her forward into the
darkness, and Grace slipped on a loose rock and nearly fell. She
fought back a cry as Dar steadied her, and she pulled her skirts
up. She followed Dar, her ankle shooting in pain, wondering if the
people who’d barged into the cave had heard them. The voices were
all male, and they had Renaul accents. Their words were
unintelligible, and they grew quieter as Dar and Grace went blindly
into the darkness.

Were Sierra, Vin, and Amina okay?
How did they find the trapdoor? Was it the Protectors? How many of
them were there? She stumbled along behind Dar, trying to be as
quiet as she could.

When he stopped, they were in
complete darkness. Grace couldn’t even see the hand in front of her
face. She wanted to say something to him, but she was afraid of
being overheard. Dar groped around in the dark with one of his
hands, and Grace held tightly onto his other one. He stepped close,
and he practically pushed her off balance with the weight of his
body against her. His breath tickled her ear. “There are two ways
here,” Dar whispered.

“What?” Grace breathed. She looked
over her shoulder, but the darkness surrounded them. They couldn’t
see the light from the trapdoor, nor any lanterns. Maybe it wasn’t
the Protectors.

“Which way should we go?” Dar
asked.

Vin said it was a maze. What if
they never got there? Shouldn’t Dar know? Why was he asking her?
She swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“I could go ahead,” Dar said, “as
a bat or something.”

Grace’s grip grew tighter on his
hand as she thought of being left alone, and she forced herself to
relax.

Dar put a dagger in her hand. “I’ll
be back within seconds.” He kissed her roughly on the forehead and
let go of her hand.

She heard a flutter of wings. Grace
backed up until her back hit the wall, and she held up her dagger.
She slowly counted in her head to three, and then she heard voices
and footsteps echoing in the cave. She held back a gasp; the
advantage of the few seconds that they’d had would be gone as soon
as they saw her.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm,
and she gasped. Someone clasped a hand over her mouth before she
let out a scream.

“It’s me,” Dar breathed. “I know
the right way.”

He pulled her to the right, and
they jogged along, keeping their free hands along the wall. They
seemed to be going downhill, and the thought of all the earth
surrounding her made it hard for Grace to breathe steadily. They
tried to go quickly, but the downside to speed was noise. The
voices were still echoing in the cave, and when Grace glanced over
her shoulder, she saw a dim light. She hoped they were at the fork
for some time before deciding what to do. They turned so the light
was out of her view, and then they came to another turn, and
another, so that the path reminded Grace of a snake.

After a minute or so of this, Dar
fell back and whispered into her ear, “Just wait a minute, I’m
going to change again.”

She waited again, holding the
dagger out in front of her, and when Dar returned, she started but
didn’t scream.

“We went the wrong way,” he said.
“There’s a dead end ahead.”

“What? I thought you knew the
right away!”

“We must have missed a fork since
we were only touching one wall. We have to go back.”

“Back
? But the Protectors are back
there!”

“They’re going to find us if we
just wait at a dead end.” Dar wrapped his hand around hers. “Come
on. We’ll find the new way and keep walking.”

This time, they held hands and felt
the opposite walls of the tunnel with their free hands. Grace still
held her dagger, and occasionally the metal would scrape against
the walls. She’d wince, but she wasn’t willing to put it
away.

Soon, Grace’s wall ended. She
squeezed Dar’s hand, pulling him toward her. He changed without
speaking, and then Grace saw the dim light of the lantern again.
She gripped her dagger, holding it in front of her, and she slowly
backed into the tunnel they hadn’t taken earlier. A moment later,
Dar grabbed her hand, and they set off down the tunnel as quickly
and quietly as they could.

The Protectors—if that’s who it
was—were getting closer, though. They were at the fork the next
time Grace looked back, and she could see their forms. Their voices
rose, and someone said, “We know you’re here!”

Then Grace heard the language of
the Cosas. Dar swore and let go of her hand.

“What are you doing?” She knew her
voice was too loud, but suddenly a bright light lit up the tunnel.
Three men stood at the fork, and one of them was Lesado, the
prince’s advisor.

“What do you want?” she
demanded.

“Why are you running from us?”
Lesado asked. He took out his sword, and he saw his eyes rove over
her dagger. They took steps closer.

“Leave me alone!” she said,
backing away.

“The prince is very worried about
you,” Lesado said. “We said we’d give you one more chance. You can
marry him or… we’ll take care of you.” He looked at Dar, and she
knew they were going to kill him, whether she went with them or
not.

Suddenly, Dar wasn’t standing next
to her. A lion raced down the tunnel toward the men standing at the
fork at the end. They screamed and scrambled away.

Grace took an involuntary step
back, watching in awe as the lion leapt and tackled down one of the
men. The third man backed away down the tunnel toward Grace,
watching with fear. Lesado brandished his sword with a yell. She
winced as he sliced him across the back, but the lion turned on
Lesado and growled.

One of the men cried out in the
Cosa language, and Grace knew he was going to reveal Dar the way
Adrian was revealed in their room in Belisha.

“Stop!” she screamed, running
forward.

The Cosa looked at her in surprise,
but the words were still falling from his mouth. She was too far
away, so she did the only thing she could think of and threw the
dagger at him. He cried out and dodged away; it hit the cave wall
and fell to the ground with a clatter, but Grace was already
getting her own dagger out of the side pouch in her bag. She ran at
him, holding the dagger out in front of her, though she wasn’t sure
what she was going to do with it.

She collided with him, nearly
knocking him over, but he grabbed her arms and twisted them away
from him. She kicked him in the shin, and he winced. One of his
hands loosened its grip on her wrist, and she wrenched her arm
away. She brought her dagger down his chest, slicing his skin, and
he cried out. He hit her in the face; the force of it knocked her
to the ground. The world spun, her ears ringing, and she realized
she’d dropped the dagger. She tried to clamor after it, but the
Cosa picked it up.

Grace began to scramble to her
feet, but the Cosa tackled her down onto her back. She let out a
scream, kicking him in the knee, but he pinned her down, his legs
on her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” she
shouted. “They’re going to turn on you, too!”

The Cosa laughed, bringing the
dagger to her neck, but Grace saw Dar in his true form behind him.
He brought the hilt of the sword he was holding down on the back of
the Cosa’s head. The man stumbled to his feet, holding his head and
swearing. Grace wrenched the dagger from his hand while he was
distracted by the pain, and he leaned up against the cave wall,
glaring at them.

The bodies of Lesado and the other
man lay in a mangled, bloody mess a few feet away. Grace covered
her mouth, fighting back vomit.

Dar pointed the sword at the Cosa.
He had blood covering his face, especially his mouth, and a cut on
his back, blood darkening his shirt. “She’s right. The Protectors
will turn against all the magical families. They only targeted the
Avialies first because of what happened with Jolen.”

“I don’t care what happens to
everyone else,” the Cosa said. He was a pale man with red hair and
a mole on his chin, and the blood from the cut on his chest
contrasted starkly with his white shirt. “They were taking care of
me.”

“Who else is up there?” Dar
asked.

The Cosa grinned, shaking his head.
“I’m not telling you. Just know you’re outnumbered.”

“How did you find the
shelter?”

The Cosa said nothing, and his grin
faded.

“Did they kill anyone?” Dar
pressed.

Suddenly, the Cosa charged at
Grace. His hands reached for her throat, but Grace twisted away
from him and thrust her dagger out in defense. It stabbed into his
stomach, and they both gasped. He backed away, and she let the
dagger slip out of her grasp, his blood slick on her fingers. She
stared at the wound in his stomach, the blood spreading, covering
his hands. The Cosa’s back hit the wall, and he fell to the ground,
groaning, gasping. He pulled the dagger out, and she knew she was
going to be sick. She turned around and threw up on the dirt
ground.

Dar squeezed her shoulder. “Are you
all right?”

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve
and nodded.

He spit a mouthful of blood on the
ground, but she had a feeling it wasn’t his own. “I’m going to take
these bodies down the other tunnel so they thought we took it,” he
said.

“We’re going to lose time.” Her
voice came out weak.

“It’ll gain us time in the long
run. It’ll only take a moment.”

He started dragging the two
mutilated corpses over to the tunnel that led to the dead end. She
turned to stare at the Cosa in horror at what she’d done. He was
breathing raggedly. His face seemed colorless, and his hands were
at his stomach, as though he was trying to stop the bleeding. Grace
dry heaved, but there was nothing else in her stomach.

When Dar returned, he stood over
the Cosa. The red haired man looked up at him. “Do it.”

Dar raised his sword. Grace covered
her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as Dar ended his
life.

* * *

Sierra stirred out of her sleep,
and she glanced around, unsure what had awoken her. She’d been
shoved into the corner of Vin and Amina’s living room and tied up
by her wrists and ankles. She’d finally been able to fall asleep,
and she cursed under her breath for waking up.

The living room was dark. She knew
a Protector sat on the couch. He seemed to be in charge of the
interrogation. He carried it all out with such ease, as though he’d
done it thousands of times before. It happened within minutes: his
Zinna pinned Vin down; his men covered Amina’s mouth when she
started to scream; the truth potion went easily down Vin’s throat;
Grace and Dar were exposed. When Sierra tried to escape, he grabbed
her by the hair and flung her into the fireplace. Her shoulder
ached as she thought about it.

He was a large man with curly hair,
and the other men said his name with reverence and fear. Arlan. She
tried to see around the chair to catch sight of him, to see if he
was sleeping or awake, but it was too dark to even see
him.

Something touched her mouth. She
jumped and nearly cried out, but a hand clapped over her mouth. She
started to fight, but suddenly a voice commanded, “Don’t say a
word. I haven’t put the concealing spell on you yet.”

Her eyes widened. What was Matilda
doing there?

Matilda’s bodiless voice mumbled
something in her language, and she came into view in front of
Sierra. In the dark, Sierra could only see the shape of her face.
Matilda lowered her hand slowly. “The spell’s on you, but don’t
speak loudly just in case. I think he’s awake over
there.”

Sierra shook her head. She wasn’t
going to speak out and draw attention to herself.

“Oh, come on,” Matilda said, and
Sierra knew she was rolling her eyes. “Aren’t you wondering why I’m
here?”

Sierra clenched her teeth. Of
course she did, and Matilda’s mere presence sent goosebumps all
over her body. “I don’t trust you,” she said as quietly as she
could.

Matilda grabbed Sierra’s dress and
pulled her forward. Her face was inches from Sierra, her breath
hot. “My mother died in that battle. They killed her. I lost just
as much as you did that day.”

Sierra stared at her, even though
she knew Matilda couldn’t see her. Or maybe she did; she didn’t
know how Cosa magic worked in the dark. “I didn’t know,” she
whispered.

Matilda let go of Sierra roughly,
and Sierra fell back, hitting her head on the wall. “You didn’t
stick around to find out, did you? No, you just tried to kill me
and tore apart my relationship with Dar.”

“I had nothing to do with you and
Dar!” She winced and lowered her voice.

“And what about when you tried to
strangle me?” Matilda asked. “Are you going to deny that,
too?”

“No,” Sierra said, jutting her
chin out. “I thought you were working for them.”

“Do you still?”

She paused. Sometime after she’d
left behind Sashe and everything else, she’d lost the idea that
Matilda was working for the Protectors. In that house in Nyad, it
had seemed so clear, but later, even in her grief and anger, she
couldn’t put Matilda with those men and women who fought so hard to
crush magic. “No. How did you know where we were?”