To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) (12 page)

Beau barked again and she heard a voice calling back to him through the trees. “Beau!” Footsteps rushed toward her and she forced herself to keep her eyes open. “Oh gods, Cecily?”

She felt something soft settle on top of her and strong arms pull her up off the ground. “Merrick?” she said.

“Stay with me,” Merrick said. “I’ve got you.”

“Daro,” she whispered.

“Okay,” he said, “but we have to get you warm.”

Cecily tucked herself into him, leaning her head against his shoulder, and rocked to the brisk rhythm of his footsteps. She drifted in and out of consciousness as he carried her. Occassionally, she felt him shift her weight in his arms and he spoke to keep her awake. After what felt like an eternity, they stopped and he slowly lowered her legs to the ground, keeping one arm around her. As she wavered on her feet, he opened the door to his cabin and ushered her inside.

Her teeth chattered painfully and her body shuddered as he pulled a chair up to the fire and draped it with a thick blanket. He unfastened her belt, helped her pull her freezing wet clothes off, and tossed them to the side. She winced as he pulled her tunic over her injured arm. He quickly wrapped the blanket around her and lowered her into the chair.

“Where’s Daro?” he asked.

She tried to sit up. “I don’t know,” she breathed and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering.

“Okay, sit back now,” he said, his voice soothing as if he were speaking to a nervous animal. He gently pressed her back into the chair. He tucked the blanket around her and tossed more wood on the fire. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes.

She heard the sounds of Merrick bustling about the cabin as she warmed next to the fire. Her shivering subsided as the heat melted into her body.

Merrick crouched down next to her and lifted her injured arm from inside the warm blanket. She felt his fingers gently press the skin around the wound but the effort to open her eyes was too great.

“This is going to hurt,” he said. He held her arm out straight and gripped her wrist with a firm hand. She felt liquid trickle down her shoulder and flinched. “I know,” he said, his voice gentle, “but I have to clean it.” Her eyes fluttered open as he dabbed the wound with a cloth and the blistering pain began to dull. He pulled out a needle and she closed her eyes again. “It’s deep. I have to stitch it closed.” She nodded, set her jaw and held her arm still.

He dabbed a poultice over the stitches and wrapped her arm in a bandage. Her tight muscles relaxed as the heat of the fire soaked into her. Her shoulder ached, but it was no longer the searing pain of an open wound. He leaned down in front of her face and touched her chin to inspect her cheek and split lip. “This is going to look bad for a while, but it isn’t serious.” He gently probed her jaw, touching his fingers to her cheek and nose. “Nothing is broken.”

He sucked in a breath when he saw her legs. “What in the name of the gods happened to you?” He picked up one leg and balanced it on his knee to pick out bits of stone. Cecily couldn’t yet find the strength to answer. She let him dab her wounds with poultice and wrap her legs in bandages.

When he finished, he poured her a cup of hot tea. She held it in her hands and relished the warmth, keeping the blanket tucked around her. Beau laid down at her feet, watchful, his tall black ears twitching toward her. Merrick pulled up a chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

Relief and gratitude flooded Cecily as she looked at her friend. Merrick had a sturdy frame, chestnut hair and a light growth of stubble on his face and chin. His brown eyes had faint lines at their corners. Beau sat up next to him and Merrick reached out with a calloused hand to scratch behind his ears. His clothes were homemade, a beige tunic under a worn leather vest, dark brown pants and heavy boots. His brow furrowed in concern and he leaned forward. “What happened?” he asked.

Cecily adjusted the blanket and flexed her fingers, feeling the blood flow through her hands. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice quiet. Her lip hurt when she spoke. “We were attacked on the road. Something exploded and we both went flying. There were three of them, I think, powerful Wielders.” She closed her eyes, and images of the men in their black masks floated through her mind. “They were dressed in black, their faces covered with masks. I couldn’t see who they were.”

“Do you know what happened to Daro?”

“They took him.” Tears sprang to her eyes and a knot of fear tightened her stomach. “They left me behind and led him away.”

Merrick hesitated, scratching his jaw. “But he was alive?”

“Yes. They said they would let me go, but someone came back and tried to finish me off. I lost him by jumping in the river.” She took a shuddering breath. “These men weren’t normal, Merrick. They could do things I’ve never seen before.” She slumped in her chair and leaned her head back, her exhaustion overwhelming. “How did you find me?”

“I didn’t. Beau found you. We were here at home, and he started barking and pawing at the door. I let him out and he took off toward the road. I followed and I hadn’t gone far when I started hearing something, booming sounds, coming from the road. By the time I got there, no one was left, but I could see someone had been attacked. I read the signs and followed your trail all the way to the river. It wasn’t easy, but I could still see your trail of energy in the water. We followed the river until Beau finally caught up with you.”

Cecily shook her head. Merrick’s Wielding ability allowed him to sense the energy signature of any living thing. He was the best tracker she knew. “We need to find Daro’s trail.”

“I know, but you’re hurt. You need to lie down,” Merrick said. He helped her up and led her toward his bedroom. Her legs felt shaky and she leaned on him for support. He laid her down and covered her with blankets, tucking them in around her.

“No,” she said, her voice weak, “I can’t sleep now. I have to find him.”

“I know,” he said softly. “We’ll find him. But you need sleep first.”

She fought to keep her eyes open but her body betrayed her. She lay back onto the soft pillow, her eyes fluttered shut, and she sank into an exhausted sleep.

Something cold and wet tickled Cecily’s face. She awoke with a start, greeted by the snuffling nose of Beau. He laid his chin on the bed in front of her face, and his black eyes looked at her. His large black ears moved around, twitching toward her and turning behind. She smiled. “Hey Beau, good boy.” He sniffed again, made a throaty noise, and sat up, as if he expected something.

Cecily cringed as she hauled herself up. She shrugged her shoulders and carefully rolled her arm backward. Her wound ached and the stitches pulled against her skin. Although her legs were sore and wobbly, she swung them around the side of the bed and stood up. Her head hurt and she reached up to touch her face, probing her lip and cheek. It was swollen and tender. She briefly wondered what she looked like, but decided she’d rather not know.

Her clothes were clean and dry, laid out on the end of the bed. She dressed, carefully pulling her tunic over her bandaged shoulder. She pulled the wrappings off her legs. The wounds were shallow, the worst ones already scabbed over.

Beau stood and stepped in front of her, his ears straight up, bushy tail wagging. “Where’s Merrick?” she asked. Beau barked once and led her out into the main part of the cabin. The fire crackled and Merrick had left food sitting out on the table, but he was nowhere to be seen. She peeked out the window and wondered how long she’d been asleep. Sunlight filtered down through the trees. It looked to be midmorning.

Worry for Daro rose in her mind. She assured herself that Merrick must be out looking for him and forced herself to take care of necessities. Her stomach felt hollow and raw, as if it had been days since she had eaten. She ladled a bowl of soup and tore off a chunk of brown bread. Beau lay down next to the table and kept his eyes on her.

Beau’s ears perked up and he lifted his head toward the door. “Is he coming home?” Cecily asked. The dog barked and a few seconds later, the door opened.

“Good, you’re up,” Merrick said as he walked in and shut the door behind him.

“Did you find the trail?” Cecily asked, unable to find patience.

“How are you feeling?” he said.

She waved her hand. “I’m fine. Did you find anything?”

Merrick unfastened the clasp of his cloak and tossed it to the side. “No.”

“Nothing? No sign of where they went?”

He sat down in a chair across the table and Beau laid his head in his lap. “Not only was there no trail, there is no sign of you ever having been there. I saw the road the day you were attacked. There were holes and chunks of rock missing, the remains of your wagon, plenty of evidence of what happened there. Today, there’s nothing.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Cecily said.

“No, it doesn’t. I’ve been searching for two days and I can’t find a trace.”

Cecily dropped her bread. “Two days? I slept for two days? Oh gods, Merrick. Daro could be anywhere by now.”

He put his hand out. “I know. Don’t panic yet.”

“How could there be nothing? There has to be some sign.”

Merrick shook his head. “The road smells like it’s been Swept clean. There’s a gap, as if nothing touched the road for an entire day. That isn’t normal. Even if there was no foot traffic, something would cross; bugs, small animals. Whoever did it was good. Very good. If I didn’t know to look, I wouldn’t have noticed the anomaly. I’ve met Sweepers before, but never one who could erase that much violence.”

Cecily’s mouth hung open and her stomach turned over. She pushed her bowl away, her appetite gone. She stared down at the table, unsure of what to do next. It hadn’t occurred to her that Merrick might not find the trail.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said.

Beau trotted over and put his head in her lap. She scratched the top of his head.

“Beau wouldn’t leave you alone, you know,” Merrick said. “He sat there and watched you, the whole time you were asleep. Wouldn’t come with me when I left.”

She smiled and scratched his ears a little harder. “Sweet boy.” The scabs on her legs itched and her shoulder ached. She sighed and looked around the cabin as if it held the answer. She couldn’t follow the trail if there wasn’t one. Even if she could, she didn’t know what she’d find at the end of it. She needed help.

“I have to go back to Halthas,” she said.

“Cecily, you’re still injured, and I don’t just mean that shoulder wound. Whatever they did to you, it knocked you out for days. You have to be careful.”

“I don’t have time to be careful. The longer I wait, the farther away Daro could be. I have to find out who took him, and why.”

Merrick stood up. “I’ll take you back to Halthas. Tomorrow, but only if you’re strong enough.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he put up a hand to cut her off. “No, don’t argue. I won’t risk your life on a hard ride back to the city. We can leave at first light. Not before.”

Cecily sighed, feeling felt like a chastised child. Merrick turned and grabbed his cloak. He left out the door, Beau at his heels, leaving her no room to argue.

She had to admit, he was probably right. She still felt weak. She wasn’t certain she could ride a horse, let alone make the two-day journey back to the city. But the waiting felt like it might kill her. She pulled her bowl of soup back in front of her and took a sip. If she was stuck there, she ought to do what she could to get her strength back. It would be a long ride back to the city, but she knew who she needed to see when she got there.

12. NEW LODGINGS

Daro squeezed his eyes together, and his stomach swirled with nausea. His head ached, and his mind was fuzzy. He breathed in slowly through his nose, and out again, finding his inner calm. His stomach still protested, but he felt in control of his body.

He moved with care, but he didn’t seem to be injured. He wondered where he was and hesitated to open his eyes. Panic began to rise as Cecily sprang to his mind, the image of her lying in the road burned in his memory. He forced himself to relax when instinct insisted he get up and try to find her. He could feel through their bond that she was still alive. They’d held to their part of the bargain. That was something.

His hands and feet were bound and he tested the bonds, pulling his arms as far as they would go. The clink and scrape of metal told him he was in chains. He lay on his side, the surface beneath him hard. A dungeon, then.

He opened his eyes a crack and was surprised to see he was not in a cell. He was chained to the floor, but it was finished wood, not dirt or stone. The walls were paneled wood and the door looked ordinary. He turned his head and found a simple pallet bed with drab bedding and a pillow. It looked more inn than dungeon, aside from the chains bolted to the floor. Where was he?

His abductors hadn’t given him a chance to discover who they were or where they were taking him. After he’d lost sight of Cecily, someone had touched him on the back as he walked. He’d felt the brief sensation of the breath being pulled from his lungs before everything went black. Then he’d woken up here, nauseous and sore and increasingly confused.