A Veil of Secrets Page 11

  I wrinkled my nose. “What would I do with an extra leg?”

  “Use it to kick suitors where it counts when they need it,” he suggested.

  “I have none.” I shivered as he neared my wing joint. “You are the only male I’ve ever kicked.”

  “Then I’m honored to be your first.” He lowered his hand. “But once others realize you aren’t already married, they will flock to you in droves.”

  I ruffled my skirt. “The real surprise would come when they unwrapped the bride.”

  “People fear what they don’t understand.” He shook his head. “They fear what they know too.”

  “It’s a nice dream.” I pinned my cape back in place. “But who would accept me as I am when I can’t?”

  “I would,” he said without looking at me.

  While he examined the horizon, I studied him. His neat hair was disheveled. His eyes reflected the warmth of his humor and the fading sun. His lips were taut, neither smiling nor frowning. His plump lower lip lent him the appearance of a boy who was pouting, which made me laugh under my breath.

  His head swung toward me. “I wasn’t aware I had said anything amusing.”

  “I was thinking of the hen,” I said to spare his feelings.

  Harsh lines had returned to crease his forehead. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I wasn’t laughing at—at what you said.” In fact, it was easiest to pretend he had said nothing.

  “Then what?” he demanded.

  I studied my hands. “I was thinking how your expression reminded me of a young boy pouting.”

  He grasped my chin. “Mimetidae do not pout.”

  “I didn’t say you were pouting.” I traced his mouth. “It’s your lips, the way the bottom is fuller.”

  The fire in his eyes heated in a different way. “You’ve noticed the shape of my mouth?”

  I set my shoulders back. “I tend to look at the mouths of those who speak to me.”

  His hand shifted from my chin to my jaw. “How long have you been familiar with mine?”

  “It depends,” I said stubbornly. “When was the first time you spoke to me?”

  “Your second day in Erania, Henri introduced us.” He didn’t hesitate. “You were wearing a pink gown with a fur-trimmed cape of the same color.” He glanced down. “I remember seeing your toes.”

  I tilted my head. “How can you remember that?”

  “You were—you are—the most beautiful female I have ever seen.” He shook his head. “When I saw you that day…” He swiped his thumb across my bottom lip. “I thought I would give anything to have you smile once at me the way you did at Henri.” He laughed, I think at himself. “I was prepared to throw myself on Henri’s mercy to learn anything about you, but then he said you were married. It was like showing a starving male a prime cut of meat, sitting him at the table and putting a goblet of wine in his hand then eating each bite where he could watch as you savored what he could not have.”

  “What would you have done, if Henri hadn’t said I was married?”

  “Something foolish.” He glanced aside. “I come from a poor family, a poor clan, and all I own is the small house where my mother and sisters live. I inherited it. It’s more Mother’s house than mine, and she turned me out when I was fifteen.” He seemed proud of that. “Clothes on my back, the gold I keep in a trust in Erania, that’s all I have. I could care for a wife, but not one as fine as you are.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “You are richer than I am, then.”

  His puzzled expression was laughable. “Your clothing—your manner—I just assumed.”

  “I am not nobility.” I parted the fabric of my skirt and raised it to my thigh. “Far from it.”

  “That’s a slaver’s mark.” He leaned closer. “The sun and wave crest—you’re from Fortunia?”

  “I was born there. I lived there until the plague swept through the city and Idra found me.”

  The rest of my story I told in fits and starts. How my parents were indentured servants. How the contracts they signed stipulated they might pass their debts on to Edan and me, as their parents had before them.

  I told him how my parents had at least shown us the kindness of allowing us to go to our master together. Our birthdays were almost ten months to the day apart. Facing such uncertainty with my brother by my side gave me the strength to endure even the cruelest treatments, because we were all we had.

  Time would have tested my resolve, but I felt certain then that if I birthed a child, I would rather serve out my time than place such a burden on the shoulders of the young and the innocent.

  “I had no idea,” Asher said after I had finished.

  “Slaves are educated better than all but the upper castes in Fortunia. They demand their servants to be informed and elegant, as pleasing to the eye as to the ear.” My fingernails shifted to claws, and I stabbed them into the ground. “Yet until Henri gave me clothing, I owned none of my own. Everything we have, except for Edan’s sword, is due to the hospitality of the Araneidae.”

  He clamped a hand over my wrist and held it over his lap. “One thing I’m curious about is how did Edan find you?” He used a dull blade from his pocket and cleaned the dirt from under each sharp claw. “How did he rescue you?”

  “The plague started in the south, near Siciia.” I frowned at him. “It swept through Fortunia then up the coast from there. It does seem backward when you think about it. If harbingers were safe within the veil, why not infect Beltania first and then work their way south? Once the southlands fell, then they could turn their attention northward. Either way, the veil would be their sanctuary while it hid them.”

  He stopped cleaning long enough to cast me a shrewd look. “You have a militant mind.”

  “I have a militant brother.” Edan and I had discussed this topic many, many times.

  “Good point.” He finished one hand and moved to the other.

  I jerked out of his grasp. “This is your reaction?”

  “What would you have me do? Tell you I’m outraged on your behalf? I am. Tell you Edan dealt your master the fate he deserved? He did. I would have done the same. But I can’t absolve your guilt or his. I can’t change any of our pasts, though I wish I had that power. I won’t say I pity you. I don’t. I won’t even say I empathize with you when I do.” He released my hand, cleaned the blade and pocketed his knife. “You’re too stubborn to appreciate nuance, and I have no interest in fueling your anger.”

  I frowned. “You have left me with no cause for offense, and yet I feel I have been affronted.”

  He tapped his chest. “The burning sensation is your pride smarting.”

  I compressed my lips.

  He laughed.

  “You are less amusing than you realize,” I groused.

  “Only to those who are averse to being amused by themselves.” He stretched his legs in front of him. “No one has a perfect life, no matter how flawless it may appear from the outside. None of us can ever know the grief another has suffered. I have been fortunate. I had good parents, a good home and a career path set before me. I have several friends who have not been as blessed. I don’t mean to lessen the circumstances that shaped you. I mean only to point out you have broken that small mold. Pay the past respect, but don’t allow those events to govern your future. You are not that person.”

  I tested the soreness of my leg. “I think I liked you better when you scowled and grunted at me.”

  He twisted his face into his best scowl, the expression far more familiar than his smile.

  “There.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that any better?”

  “It’s too late now.” I sighed for dramatic effect. “You’ve proven yourself kind and capable.”

  He jerked his chin aside, shunning me. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”


  “Fine.” I rotated my tender shoulders. “You’re a brute. Satisfied?”

  He tilted his head. “As I said, flattery will get you nowhere.”

  I laughed at him, and he uncrossed his arms and made himself comfortable.

  I tried following his example, but I couldn’t settle my nerves. I had too much else on my mind. I found my gaze slid more and more often from our small camp toward the veil. Wherever Edan was, I knew he lacked the companionship I had found in Asher. It was getting late. If I waited much longer, I would have to put off our next expedition until tomorrow. I was tired and hungry, but I didn’t care.

  I wanted my brother back, in whatever condition Idra had left him.

  “I’m going to try my luck again.” I got to my feet and dusted out my skirt.

  “I’ll go with you.” He grabbed his supply pack as he stood.

  “You don’t have to.” I touched his shoulder. “You must be tired and hungry.”

  “No more than you are.” He reached into his pack and dropped a bag into my hand. “Here.”

  “What is it?” The contents shifted like small stones.

  “It’s not much.” He shook his own bag. “It was the best I could do on short notice.”

  Intrigued, I pulled the drawstring and revealed a mix of nuts and dried berries.

  I popped a handful into my mouth and crunched. “They taste better than I remembered.”

  He followed suit. “Hunger has a way of making even the most unappetizing meals delicious.”

  “We should get going before we lose the light.” I began walking, and he fell in step beside me.

  Entering the veil was as unpleasant a sensation as I remembered. Inside was as still and watery as always. The landscape blurred around us. We were the only two clear outlines in the place it seemed.

  We walked quietly for a while, eating our rations and straining for unusual sights or sounds.

  Asher bumped his shoulder into mine. “Do you see that?”

  I followed his line of sight. “I don’t— What is that?”

  “Let’s find out.” He took the remains of our meals and stored them in his pack then slid his hand easily into mine. When I raised my eyebrows, he shrugged. “It’s simpler than unpacking the rope.”

  I didn’t contradict him. I might have even interlaced our fingers.

  After all, I wouldn’t want to get lost.

  Together we approached the thickening swirl of mist, and the closer we came, the more the area under our feet resembled a cobbled path. More defined shapes twisted into existence before us, and I ran for them. My feet hit the stone path crisscrossing the main road, but the cobbles vanished under my weight. I pulled Asher behind me as we cut a swath through the misty illusion and got nowhere.

  He tugged on our linked fingers. “Let go of my hand.”

  I did as he asked, and the buildings surrounding us gained more substance. I grasped him again, and what had been clear a second earlier faded into dreamlike softness. “You can’t come with me.”

  He clamped his hands over my wrist. “I won’t let you go alone.”

  “I have to.” I jerked free of him, surprising us both. “This might be my only chance.”

  “Idra is luring you to her.” He extended his hand. “Don’t let her trick you into running headlong into a trap. If you take this road, she will ensure you can’t follow it back—with or without Edan.”

  “He may be infected.” It was a lie for my benefit. I knew what I had seen.

  “You should have told me.” Asher took a step closer. “I can understand why you didn’t.”

  “Can you?” The back of my eyes stung. “I’m not sure if I do.”

  “If you said aloud that he was sick, if you made that real and you knew you couldn’t reach him, the probabilities would catch up to you.” He kept coming. “We will find him. I promise you that.”

  Hot tears spilled over my cheeks. “I notice you don’t say we’ll find him alive.”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. You can always trust me to tell you the truth.”

  He reached me, folded me into his arms and held me against his chest while the mist evaporated and my best hope of finding Edan vanished. I sobbed against his shoulder and clung to him, allowing him to lead us out. Beneath a sparkling night sky, I sat hard on the ground, pinching a wing. I barely felt it. I would have left it if Asher hadn’t tilted me, easing the crumpled appendage from under me.

  “We should get some sleep.” He knelt and pulled a thin blanket from his pack and made a pallet. “It’s not much, but it will keep your skin off the grass. You can use the pack as a pillow if you like.”

  “You use it.” I brought my knees to my chest and braced my forehead on them. “I’m not tired.”

  “You’re exhausted.” Asher sat behind me and dragged me against his chest. “Close your eyes.”

  “Just for a minute.” I did as he asked, leaning my head back to rest against his shoulder.

  “Have you had your injection today?” His voice rumbled through his chest.

  “Yes.” I flicked my fingers in the direction of my bag. “I have been a good girl.”

  He chuckled, the sound laden with amusement. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “I am good.” I yawned. “Very good.”

  His lips brushed my temple. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “I suppose this means I won’t be meeting Old Father today after all.” The decision to run had put all my lessons on hold indefinitely, crippling my supply of dayflower oil.

  As if reading my thoughts, he said, “Old Father is a shrewd male. Word of your disappearance will spread, and he will be patient. He knows your only hope of survival lies with him.”

  I wanted so badly to believe him, but my troubles were easily pushed aside. Edan was the one in the greatest need. He was the one I had to put first. If I survived the veil, then I would let myself fear Old Father’s judgment or screw up the nerve to count the number of vials left in my possession.

  Asher trailed his hands down my arms until my muscles loosened and, against my will, I slept.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Raised voices dragged me from my dreams. I pushed up on my elbow and spotted Asher deep in conversation with Lleu. Behind him Pascale stood with her hands fisted on her hips. I grasped the sheet and drew it up to my chin, clamping my eyes shut and pretending to sleep while they conversed.

  “You left without a word,” Lleu bellowed. “Of course I worried.”

  Pascale sounded ill. “What happened to that poor ursus?”

  “It was infected with the plague. You can see that for yourself,” Asher said. “I had to kill it.”

  The strangled sound must have come from Pascale.

  Lleu cleared his throat and spat. “I knew those flighty bastards were up to something.”

  “What are you talking about?” Asher pressed. “What flighty bastards?”

  “Harbingers,” Pascale said. “Beltania is lousy with them lately.”

  “And no one felt we should be informed of the dangers?” Asher growled.

  “There is no danger—yet.” Lleu sighed. “We might as well tell him.”

  “Let’s wait for Marne to get decent.” Pascale’s voice carried. “She’s awake. That or she’s dead. She hasn’t taken a breath for some time now. You two make yourselves scarce. I’ll stay with her.”

  I cracked open my eyelids and found them all staring at me.

  Asher stopped Pascale in her tracks. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Touch me again,” she said through her teeth, “and I’ll show you a bad idea.”

  “Behave yourself,” Lleu warned. “Come on, Asher. Let’s leave the females to their doings.”

  Asher hesitated. “Marne?”

  I drew the c
overs up higher. “I’ll be fine.”

  Today Pascale wore a soft green dress that teased her ankles and a pair of sandals. Without care of staining her fine garment, she dropped beside me onto the grass and linked her fingers in her lap.

  “You don’t have to cover yourself.” She flashed a remorseful smile. “I know what you are.”

  I shoved myself upright, scuttling back while my gaze darted toward Lleu’s retreating back.

  “It’s all right.” She didn’t move to detain me. “Henri asked me to look out for you.”

  “What about Lleu?” His ties with the Salticidae were more troubling to me.

  “I confess, I did recruit him.” She worried a knot into the hem of her skirt. “I feel since I know a dangerous secret of yours, it’s only fair I trade you one of mine.” She wrung the fabric tighter. “I am a traitor to my clan. I was exiled to Beltania for a period of two years as punishment for my crimes.”

  I stopped retreating and held very still to hear what she had to say.

  “Rhys asked Vaughn to lend me a protector, and he offered me Lleu. What I didn’t know until a few months later was that Vaughn’s mother—Isolde—had made the request herself. Apparently Lleu has experience with harbingers and risers. He was in Cathis when Titania burned to the ground, when Lailah was captured.” She paused. “Isolde had concerns after her new daughter-in-law unearthed the cure for the plague that actions might be taken once the harbingers realized where the cure was being produced.” She spread her hands. “We have learned that any knowledge a riser or harbinger has, Idra can access. We must assume she knows about the cure. She can’t know how to make it. No one who does has been compromised. But she must suspect because harbinger activity has tripled in weeks.”

  I slumped back into a sitting position. “Henri said he would protect my secret.”

  “He did, until I gave him no choice.” She leaned forward. “I had been here a few weeks when I spotted my first harbinger. I followed her as far as I could, but I lost her. I watched the skies for days to find another, and that one led me past the river. There was nothing there. I have no idea what she was doing, but she did it again the next night. Lleu caught me sneaking around and threatened to tattle on me to my sister. I beat him to it and contacted Henri, who informed me about Lailah. I told him I wouldn’t let it be. How could I when they had attacked our home? Killed our people? After that, he told me to expect you and Edan. He said we were to protect you and keep your secrets, and we will.”