Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2 Read online

  “What is it?” I inched closer and saw a pale arm extending from beneath the rubble, its hand facing palm up in a silent request for help come too late. More of the male, definitely Askaran, lay crushed in what might have once been the entrance leading into Nesvia’s room. “There must have been a cave-in.” I touched the wall. “Do you think it’s safe for us to shift?”

  “We don’t have much choice unless you want to go back the way we came.”

  We split up and checked the rest of the perimeter, but found only the lone guard.

  “If there were more guards, they’re either buried or trapped on the other side.” He scanned the wall. “This is our way out.”

  When his torch swept past, light glinted on the guard’s hand. “What is that?” I asked.

  He squatted, then bent the stiff arm. “It’s a ring.” Swearing, he dropped it and stood.

  “What?” Curiosity dropped me to my haunches. I inspected the silver ring on the male’s finger and recognized the insignia from a metalsmith’s shop in Feriana. “This is the Markey family crest.” They’d incorporated the leafy design into a sign hung over their shop’s door.

  “It’s the same crest.” He sounded disgusted. “When the caravan was attacked, one of the raiders lost an expensive pair of goggles. The same design was stamped into the frame’s back.”

  “I’ve bought some pots from them.” I stood and dusted my hands on my pants. “They stamp the same logo on all their wares. Without it, they won’t honor exchanges or repairs.”

  He nudged the hand. “I don’t see him wearing a ring with a family crest not his own.”

  “Well, no.” I glanced at him. “I agree with you that whoever is under this rock is a Markey, but—”

  “A Markey made those goggles.” He jabbed the air with his finger. “A Markey died guarding Nesvia. And I’d be willing to step out on a limb and say a Markey—” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Oh, hell. I thought this whole time the explosion was a distraction so the raiders could ambush the caravan.” He glanced over my shoulder, toward Nesvia. “But what if I was wrong? What if the explosion was meant to seal off an unused portion of the mine where she could be held while Roland tested his theory? The ambush was the distraction.” He cursed. “I was so focused on the colonists, on justice, that I failed to consider there might be more to the explosion. All Roland had to do was waltz through this back entrance and gain direct access to Nesvia.”

  “Why would Roland hide her below the Feriana colony?” I asked.

  “He’s courting treason.” Harper’s voice lowered. “And he found a perfect way to deflect the blame. What are the nobility more likely to believe? That a pair of Sereian princes, one of which is her consort, abducted Askara’s queen to perform a fertility experiment? They would argue the queen’s word is absolute. That Rideal wouldn’t press his suit, regardless of the proof.” He turned on me. “Or would they believe the son of Marcus Delaney had turned on her? That the freeborn legion was as they’d always feared—not an outreach effort but a rabid militant group.”

  My heart skipped at the thought.

  “I had the motive and opportunity. Consider their argument.” His expression shifted. “I have a criminal record filed with First Court.” His lips curved in a sarcastic smile. “I’ve proven myself willing and able to abduct and murder royals. Isn’t that evidence enough to damn me?”

  Fear wicked moisture from my mouth. Nesvia had forgiven Harper for Archer’s death. I doubted his loss had saddened anyone. And Harper’s diplomatic immunity encouraged trust between Nesvia and the earthen colony, because she wanted to reconnect with her missing sister.

  Rideal had no such fondness for my family. He would show no such mercy to Harper.

  I massaged my throbbing temples. “Whatever Roland had planned, we’ve bungled it now. Let’s not play the what-if game. It’s too late for that now.” Images of what might have happened if we hadn’t found her rolled through my mind with sickening clarity. “Nesvia is safe.”

  “She’s in shock,” he pointed out.

  “She has Aldrich. She’ll recover.”

  Aldrich’s medicinal jars scattered across the floor. He labored over her with the same unnerving focus usually attributed to her consort. Through all the years of Nesvia’s mating, I’d assumed Rideal’s undivided attention equaled adoration, as Aldrich claimed. Now I saw his obsession with the female behind the Askaran throne in a new light, and my heart hurt for her.

  “She’ll be heartbroken if Rideal is implicated in this scandal.”

  Harper touched my cheek. “But at least she’ll be alive.”

  “You’re right.” Life after love was possible. I was proof. Loss taught you about yourself, burrowed in the dark parts of your soul and ate you from the inside out. I was proof of that too.

  “Come on.” I lifted the first rock, unsure how many hours had lapsed since stepping into the mines, but knowing our time was running out. “It’s time to get her out of here.”

  Harper inhaled the cold night and stared up at a paling sky. His lungs tickled, and he coughed up dust and stale air. Dawn would come soon. Warmth would seep into his bones, and day would break across his city of tents. Life here ran in a maddening circle of sameness. His brief bid at freedom had enlightened him, casting shadows of monotony over his awakening city.

  He kept his own counsel outside of his tent and waited, frozen in the same pose for what seemed like hours. His sense of time was distorted from his ordeal. Perhaps he’d sat here only minutes. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d languished here, in the in-between, for days.

  The colony lay quiet, as if afraid of breathing while so dangerous an ally lay wounded on her soil. Bolder colonists had stared as Emma carried Nesvia from the mine. Wiser colonists herded their young into their familial tents and pretended they saw nothing. It was safer that way.

  Mason had stopped by earlier. Their conversation had been short and to the point. He told Harper Emma had sneaked from the tent in order to find him, any courier really, then sent him on his way with a message bound for Sere, and Rideal. Harper’s teeth were numb from clenching.

  She could have asked him for anything, and he would have provided it. But in not coming to him, she proved she didn’t want him to know what she was doing…that she was leaving him.

  Fabric rustled at his shoulder. Dirty curls thrust through the canvas flap, followed by the rest of Emma. He patted the seat beside him, and she sat, resting her head against his shoulder.

  “How is she?” He traced her palm, wishing the lines read a future for the two of them.

  “Better. She’s talking some now.”

  Emma waited for him to prompt her. He didn’t. Though she hadn’t said as much, her words rang with goodbye. He embraced her silence. If she didn’t speak, then she wouldn’t leave.

  “She doesn’t remember anything,” Emma said tentatively. “The last thing she remembers was leaving me to speak with Rideal. She told him there would be no heir born of her next season. They fought. He stormed off. He said he was going home, to Sere, for a while. That she could manage summer court alone. Beyond that, her memory is blank.”

  He knew she waited for encouragement from him. He gave her none.

  “She woke in the cave with the body, and no idea how she got there.” Emma sounded hopeful. “Aldrich believes he can help her recover her memories.”

  “That’s good.” He forced more of a response. “What about Aaron? He spoke with Rideal.”

  “I know. It doesn’t make sense.” She placed her hand over his heart, toying with the fabric and the organ simultaneously. “Aaron has been my courier long enough to be familiar with Rideal, and Roland to a lesser extent. He said he saw them both on the road to Rihos, and I believe he thinks he did.” She sighed. “I wonder now if Roland tricked him by making him think he spoke with Rideal. After all, we took Aaron’s word Nesvia had closed her court. We accepted that meant going through Rideal to see her. Since we couldn’t reach
Rideal uninvited, Roland guaranteed we would come straight to him. Agreeing to be your patron cemented his plans.”

  Harper stroked her hair, stirring dust for the breeze to carry. “According to Aldrich both brothers are gifted crafters.” His voice scraped. “The illusion would be within Roland’s means.”

  She patted his thigh in agreement. “But if Rideal has been in Sere this whole time, then he couldn’t have come here and…” Her claws unsheathed, bit into his leg, and he welcomed the pain. “He couldn’t have seeded an heir while he was a kingdom away. If his mother, or whoever he visited, vouches for his arrival and the duration of his stay, his name will be cleared.”

  He cupped her cheek, felt her jaw flex beneath his palm. Touching her, even this small amount, made conversation worthwhile. He found himself willing to encourage her talk as long as she allowed him this one last chance to memorize her curves, and he would, all of them.

  “You’re right. Rideal couldn’t have made the trip twice, and Mason—”

  “How did you—?” Her eyes narrowed. “He went right to you, didn’t he?”

  “This is my colony. These are my people. They trust me to take care of them.” He watched a slow blush spread over her cheekbones. “Did you really think he wouldn’t tell me?”

  As if confirming what he already suspected, her red cheeks flagged her intentions to go.

  She sat upright to better glare at him. “I wouldn’t have sent him if he hadn’t promised me he’d be okay.” She mimicked his drawl to perfection when she said, “It’s no problem, Miss Emma. I’ll get this right out. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me. I’ll be just fine.” She glared at Harper. “He’s a good kid. I’d never do anything to hurt him. You should know that.”

  He didn’t bother telling her Mason had trusted Harper to make him safe. The youth was freeborn, of a human mother and Evanti father, both living in the earthen colony. Harper wished Mason had stayed home. The carefree charmer’s southern drawl came and went these days. His too-quick smile was slower on the uptake. Askara was changing him, and not for the better.

  Unwilling to waste time arguing with her, he said, “I loaned him the royal courier’s flag. Nesvia left one in my care in case of emergency. It allows the bearer safe passage even through raiders.” He paused. “They might be mercenary, but they’re not stupid. They let him pass.”

  She remained quiet, chastised. When she shifted away, his palms turned sweaty.

  He picked up where she’d interrupted him. “Mason will be able to tell you soon enough if Rideal was where he told Nesvia he would be. If he’s in Sere, he either wasn’t involved directly, or he wanted a Bernhard heir badly enough he didn’t care who seeded it.”

  Emma shuddered. “Do you really think he would share his wife with his brother?”

  A week ago, the thought wouldn’t have crossed his mind. Now, in light of his experience with Aldrich, and Emma’s enthrallment by Roland, he admitted, “If she couldn’t see through the illusion…I think it’s possible.” Then he added, “They wouldn’t dare risk her wrath otherwise.”

  Angling her face toward him, she sighed. “So we have a consort who may be innocent or merely shades of less guilty, a brother who orchestrated her treatment, if not her abduction and your implication, and a queen who remembers none of it and refuses to believe any of it.”

  “She loves Rideal.” Nesvia’s instant descent into denial proved it, and Harper knew with certainty. “It’s easier to embrace what you know is a lie than face what you think is the truth.”

  “Aldrich definitely has his work cut out for him. If the answers he finds aren’t the ones she wants…she may convince herself otherwise. She’s stubborn.” Emma shook her head. “I imagine being raised to rule has something to do with the fact even she believes her word is final.”

  “And it is, to an extent.” He steeled himself to ask, “Has she mentioned her plans?”

  “Yes.” Emma held still. “She told Rideal in her letter that she’d heard about the slaughter of your colonists and decided to investigate the situation personally. She said free trade can’t be impeded by attacks on merchants leaving the colony. Nesvia told him she’d postponed her arrival in Rihos in order to pay an extended visit to the colony as a good-faith gesture and in the hopes of cementing your agreement to host a freedom celebration here.”

  Nesvia’s request had come long ago, so full of concessions from him, he’d dismissed it.

  “Before you came to me that day,” Emma said, “I was planning to visit you.”

  His heart quickened at the notion of her coming to him, seeking him out willingly.

  “Nesvia asked me to negotiate terms with you. She said you’d resisted the idea.”

  Just as quickly, his pulse cooled and resolve hardened. An official visit. Not a social call.

  “Welcoming nobles is one thing. Allowing armed guards when these are simple miners, unarmed and untrained in combat, is ludicrous.” He shook his head at her gall for asking. Then he decided it didn’t matter. None of it mattered to him without Emma. “Why not? Let them come. We have nothing to hide. There are no skeletons in these poor demons’ closets.”

  “Thank you.” She rested her hand back on his thigh, and his skin tightened.

  “That’s it, then. Nesvia tells them she planned a detour without telling anyone, even her consort, and came alone, without her private guard, and she expects no one to raise an eyebrow?”

  “Who would know the truth? Rideal? Roland? They can hardly challenge her claim without incriminating themselves. Nesvia’s inner circle is no doubt scattered and panicked, but they were conditioned to Eliya’s eccentricities. They wouldn’t have alerted anyone to her disappearance until the last possible minute, and I’d bet that moment has not passed.” She added, “Besides, I have no doubt Roland covered his tracks well. I think the body in the mine is proof enough he always intended to restore her to her throne. If his goal was producing an heir for his line, he would hardly risk gossip or implications that Nesvia had gotten pregnant by a secret lover instead of her consort.”

  As Nesvia’s well-laid plans unfolded before him, Harper experienced the unsettling realization he’d underestimated her. In future negotiations, he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

  “Once Rideal receives her message, he’ll come for her.”

  Emma pulled her hands into her lap. “She’s not giving him the chance to inspect the colony.” She cleared her throat. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning for the vernal castle.”

  There it was, the admission he’d expected. “That’s probably for the best.”

  He stood and began pacing. He imagined he looked every inch the caged animal he felt.

  “Harper, I planned to stay with you, but you see the condition she’s in.” Emma kept pace with him. “She asked me to go with her. I can’t say no. Not when I can corroborate her story.”

  “I didn’t ask you to stay.” His words came out colder than he’d meant them. He’d expected her to leave, and this scenario was better than any he’d envisioned. Rather than a pathetic male kneeling at her feet, begging her to stay, as if she would want so weak a mate at her side, this gave them a clean break. Her lies would safeguard the queen, the colony and him.

  Emma would leave before she made him empty promises, and perhaps some part of his heart would survive the divide this way. He would remember her sweet acceptance, and not her eventual rejection. He would stay here, trapped in a prison of his own making, until he either learned to live without her or returned to Earth to lick his wounds. She would return to the city, absolved of her part in his past, and find a worthier male than the battle-scarred mess he was.

  “I assume Aldrich plans to return as well?” he asked. There went his healers’ educations.

  “Yes. He plans to return with us.” She grabbed his arm. “No one expected to find Nesvia the way we did. This changed all of our plans. Once she’s settled, I’ll come back. Then we—”

  “Don’t.” H
e snarled at her hand. “Don’t you dare make me believe you’re coming back.”

  He spun her aside. Turning his back on Emma was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  I tried to warn you.

  The box rattled in the shadowed part of his mind, then gleefully rolled to the forefront.

  I told you she’d jump at the first opportunity to leave.

  He kept walking. For once, the box had been right.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sand whistled beneath the dune sled’s rails as miles glided past. My view improved when the endless expanse of golden grains became a sea of starched, white peaks with long poles skewering the sky. I traced the highest point of the tallest tent. I missed the male who lived there.

  Three months had softened my recollection of this place. It was sparse, but thriving.

  Ahead, jewel-toned silks strung in welcoming banners. Music swelled in clever beats that set my toe to tapping. Well, all right, my leg had bounced the entire trip, but now I had a rhythm.

  “Would you mind holding still?” Rideal addressed his window rather than me.

  Heat tingled in my cheeks. “Sorry.”

  “It’s no trouble.” His words were clipped, his jaw set.

  Nesvia stared out the opposite window. She smiled faintly, and I caught its reflection. “Sleds make Rideal uneasy.”

  I could sympathize. Glancing at her, I was relieved to hear an amused tone accompanied her smile. For weeks, her expressions had contradicted her words. She’d worn a mask incapable of telegraphing the correct emotion no matter how light her tone. Now she reconciled the two, but I still worried. She couldn’t hide her eyes, and they were…vacant.

  Left with only my window for entertainment, I measured the distance remaining with the digits of my finger. I had nothing else to do.

  Rideal shifted in his seat. “You’ll leave fingerprints.”

  “Sorry.” I folded my hands in my lap as Nesvia had done.