“You haven’t said you weren’t.”
Jared grunted.
They came around the curve in the road.
Jared took one more step before his legs froze.
Six Hayllians waited about two hundred yards down the road. One of them was a Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord.
Jared managed one glance at them before his eyes focused on the mutilated thing that was walking unsteadily toward him.
Talon sucked air through his teeth and let it out in a slow hiss.
Blaed shuddered.
Randolf whispered, “Mother Night.”
How could a man live when that much of him had been cut away? Jared wondered as his stomach twisted.
Halfway between the two groups of men, Brock raised his arms, his fingerless hands reaching, reaching.
“Warlord!” Krelis shouted. “Take a good look, Warlord! If you don’t bring the little Queen to the landing place in one hour, that’s what every male in the village will look like before we’re done. Do you understand me?”
Thank the Darkness his uncle Yarek hadn’t come with him, Jared thought. The next hour would be hard enough for the villagers without their knowing what would come at the end of it.
“Do you like the feather, Warlord?” Krelis taunted. “Even a nonman should have something between his legs, don’t you think?”
“Let’s go,” Talon said. “We’re wasting time here.”
Blaed’s throat worked convulsively. “What about Brock?”
Snarling, Randolf raised his right hand. A bolt of power from his Purple Dusk ring struck Brock in the heart.
Brock jerked once, and then collapsed.
Randolf wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Not even a bastard like Brock deserves to have that done to him.”
Jared didn’t protest when Talon’s men hurried him back to the village. He didn’t argue about Talon, Blaed, and Randolf following after them, guarding their backs.
But he promised himself that, if Lia’s plan failed, his people wouldn’t suffer at the hands of that Hayllian bastard.
Even if he had to kill them himself.
Chapter Thirty-four
Krelis watched the retreating men and smiled. At first, he’d felt disappointed that the Shalador Warlord hadn’t had the balls to come alone. Now he was pleased that there had been other witnesses. Alone, the bastard could have denied what he’d seen. But those other males . . .
It wouldn’t take long for it to be whispered through the village. Once the males heard what was planned for them, they’d hand over the Queen. Only a fool wouldn’t try to buy a little mercy.
Maybe he’d bring the Shalador bastard back with him. It would cost a few men to drain the Warlord’s power enough to smash through the inner barriers and contain him, but it would be worth the cost.
He’d like to hand Lord Jared over to Dorothea. She would know just what to do with a male who’d caused her so much inconvenience.
Maybe she’d even let him watch.
Chapter Thirty-five
Keeping his own fears and uncertainties locked away, Jared worked to send out a feeling of confidence to the villagers patiently waiting for Thera to add them to the psychic web she’d created within a tangled web.
No one spoke. No one even whispered to the person behind them. No one dared be the one to break Thera’s fierce concentration.
She pricked each villager’s finger, placed one drop of blood on a specific thread of the web she’d built, and then, using Craft, froze the blood in position so that the web began to look like a delicate silver necklace dotted with red beads.
Over and over again, moving swiftly as the minutes slipped away.
And each time she placed a drop of blood in its chosen place, Jared felt another mind added to the web. If he let his eyes unfocus, he could see it in his mind. But the web he saw with his inner vision didn’t have drops of blood, it had little Jewel stars—or clear beads for the Blood who weren’t strong enough to wear the Jewels. Some he could still recognize by their Jewels—Eryk and Corry, his uncle Yarek, Thayne—but as more and more people were added, their psychic scents began to blur and blend together.
The Hayllians would sense something odd, but they wouldn’t be able to find the source becauseeveryone would become the source.
Which was basically the same trick Dorothea had used to hide Brock from Lia.
As he took a moment to admire Thera’s cunning, he also realized most of the Shalador witches were wearing tunics and trousers and had loosely braided their dark hair.
His pride in his people swelled at their courage.
Without being able to separate one psychic scent from another, there was no easy way to tell what Jewel each witch wore, and if the Hayllians didn’t get a good enough look to notice the golden skin, the witches could play “hide the Queen” for hours—or at least long enough to prevent the Hayllians from unleashing a full attack before everything was ready.
He estimated they had a quarter of an hour left when Blaed and Talon stepped up to the web, the last two to be added. Everyone else had dispersed to various points in the village.
“There,” Thera said, rolling her shoulders as she stepped back from the web. She took a couple of deep breaths. Then she detached the two bottom tether threads from the wooden frame. Holding the web by the top tether threads, she lifted it from the frame and looked at Jared. “Take off your shirt.”
Exchanging a puzzled look with Talon and Blaed, Jared stripped to the waist.
“Take a breath and hold still,” Thera said. “This is the safest way to protect it.”
Still puzzled, Jared watched as she laid the web over his chest and belly. Then he felt the spidersilk threads and beads of blood melt into his skin. He gasped.
Thera studied his chest for a moment before nodding. “Don’t worry,” she said with a knowing smile. “You’re not stuck with everyone permanently. Once the power in the web is gone, the spidersilk and blood will pass back through your skin and fall off.”
“Can I get dressed now?” Jared growled. He shivered, but it wasn’t just because it was too cold to be standing around half-naked.
“Yes, you can get dressed.”
“Is it done?” Lia said quietly as she joined them.
“It’s done,” Thera replied.
They turned toward the Coach.
Jared hastily pulled on his shirt. He wanted a minute with Lia while he had the chance.
“Wait a minute,” Blaed said sharply. He pointed at Thera. “You and Lia aren’t connected to the web.”
“What?” Jared and Talon said in unison.
“They’re not part of the web. I waited until the end, but I got here when Thera added the first person.” Blaed stared at the two women, his eyes filled with hurt and fury.
Lia studied the three men. She took a deep breath. “Thera and I can’t be part of the web.” She held up a hand to stop their protests. “We can’t be. But I swear to you, we’re well protected.”
“Come on,” Thera said. “We have to take care of the last of it.”
“What last?” Jared demanded, taking a step toward them. “You didn’t mention anything else.”
Lia’s eyes stopped him from taking another step.
The three men watched Thera and Lia hurry to the Coach.
Jared pressed his hand against his chest. He wanted to rub the area over his heart to try to ease the deep, growing ache, but he was afraid he might damage the web.
Talon nudged Blaed. “Let’s get into position.” He started up the street, then turned back. “Jared? Are you all right?”
Jared lowered his hand. “I’m fine.”
A minute later, he stood alone in the street. Everyone else was hidden. The Coach’s door remained closed. A few minutes from now, Krelis would realize they weren’t going to hand Lia over to him, and the battle would begin.
Too late, Jared thought as he walked to the tavern, where he would remain hidden until the very end. He should have told Lia while he had the chance, should have let her know how much she meant to him. The regret he felt about not being able to talk to Reyna should have taught him not to wait to say what was in his heart. But shame for the way he’d lived for the past nine years had prevented him from saying three important words to Lia.
And now it was too late.
Chapter Thirty-six
Krelis slid his knife in and out of its sheath. He liked the rhythm.
Almost time to teach that Shalador bastard what happens to anyone foolish enough to defy Hayll.
The knife slipped in and out, faster and faster.
Maybe he’d have the Black Widow bitch’s legs tied apart and let her compare the rhythm of both of his knives.
She’d scream. Oh, how she’d scream.
Maybe he’d make the little bitch-Queen watch.
What did it matter that no one, including the Priestess he served, thought he was an honorable man anymore? He had something better than honor now.
He had power.
Chapter Thirty-seven
From his position at the tavern window, Jared saw Thera slip out of the Coach and dash for the nearest building.
What was she doing? he wondered as he watched her dart from building to building, moving up the street. If she had further instructions for Talon, why didn’t she send them on a psychic thread?
He shifted position to keep her in sight. Why was she heading east? The only things in that direction were the dance ring and the Sanctuary. She couldn’t reach either of those without trying to slip past the Hayllians. Even Thera wouldn’t be that foolish.
And why had she left Lia alone?
He looked in the other direction. He could just see the closed door of the Coach Thera and Lia had been using.
Jared hesitated a moment, then stepped outside. He looked east.
Thera had vanished.
He looked at the Coach.
He shouldn’t be out here. But surely they had a minute left, didn’t they? A minute to check on Lia, make sure she was all right. A minute to silently tell her what he wouldn’t say out loud now because he didn’t want to distract her.