City of Keys, page 12
Chapter Twelve
It wasn’t until she was washing dishes that Nikola realized she’d lost her bracelet. She always took it off before plunging her hands into the soapy water.
Why, oh why, hadn’t she just left him alone?
She clung to the hope that it had fallen off while she was forcing. But she had to find it before Heshima noticed it was gone.
“I’ll say I lost it swimming,” she whispered, frantic. “No, that won’t work. She’ll make me practice a summoning to bring it back. And she’ll watch where it comes from.”
Summoning spells did not make things magically appear. That would be against the laws of nature. The spells drew the object directly through physical space, usually a short distance. They were never, ever to be done with a living creature. Misjudge the force and it could rupture internal organs.
Nikola searched the beach on hands and knees, combing her fingers through the sand. No bracelet. She waited for dark to fall. Waited some more. In the small hours, when the moon had retired and the only light was the cold gleam of stars, she slipped out of the caverns and hurried to her secret spot behind the boulder. The ley in her namestone seemed a little weaker than before, which made her nervous. But she couldn’t force without both projective and receptive power, which meant stealing multiple gems, and there was no hope of that. The storerooms were all girded with powerful spells.
Nikola’s jaw set as she prepared to transport herself back to the woods behind the creche. She landed like a cat, sand spraying outward at her feet. This time, the disorientation faded quickly.
“So you’re one of them now.”
Her head turned. Malach was sitting beneath a date palm. He held up one of the peculiar branches, then crumbled it with his fingers. “I showed it to Finlo. This is what happens when lightning strikes sand. Except we’re thirty kilometers from the beach.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, pulse pounding with guilt and surprise.
“Sorry for which part?” He gazed at her coldly. “Fucking me? Or trying to hex me afterwards?”
“It wasn’t a hex.”
“No? What’s the proper witchy term, Nikola?”
“A spell of serenity. Of sleep. I wouldn’t hex you.”
He tossed her the bracelet. “I guess you came back for that.”
She caught it and slipped it around her wrist.
“There are no ships from the continent. How did you get to Tenethe?” He glanced at the fused sand. “Like that? I’m really confused here.”
“I rowed.”
He was silent for a moment. “You rowed?”
“Yeah.” She stared back, her own temper rising. “In a piece-of-shit dinghy. To find you!”
Malach rose to his feet. His face was blank, but she knew how deeply she’d wounded him.
“They told me you were dead,” she said. “The Mahadeva gave me a sweven. I saw you attack Paarjini and go overboard. In chains!”
He blinked. “They pulled me out again.”
Nikola shook her head. “Well, I never saw that part. But I drew the sweven from the stone all on my own. By accident. They told me I had a natural talent for lithomancy. That I could learn. I only agreed to get back at them, Malach.”
He swallowed. “Why?”
“Because I care about you, idiot!” she exclaimed.
“Then prove it,” he said tightly.
Nikola walked over. Malach looked different. Older and younger at the same time. “I overheard Paarjini talking about the creche. When she said your name, I . . . I had to see you. I didn’t know where you were.” She shrugged. “So I found a way.”
Malach stared at her. “Your eyes haven’t changed.”
“Not yet. But they will.”
He sighed and pulled her into his arms. She rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“When did you arrive?” he asked.
“Couple months ago.”
He stepped back, meeting her eyes. “Where’s our child, Nikola? Do the witches have her?”
She shook her head. “I gave her up.”
“To whom?”
She swallowed. “A nice couple—”
“Don’t.” The edge in his voice made her tense. “Don’t you lie to me.”
As much as she wanted to, Nikola found she couldn’t. “Falke has her.”
Malach went very still. He shook his head in denial.
“I was caught by knights. They’re occupying the whole Morho. They took me back to the Arx. I gave birth there.” Every word struck another blow. “Falke is Pontifex now.”
“What?”
“Feizah is dead. Everyone thinks you killed her, Malach.”
He exhaled a long, unsteady breath. “Is the Void truly broken?”
Nikola nodded. “It’s civil war back there.”
He was quiet for a long time. “What’s her name?”
“I don’t know. Falke wouldn’t let me see her.”
Malach paced a few steps away. His fists clenched. He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging at it hard.
“The child is gone,” Nikola said gently. “She belongs to them now—”
“Don’t say that!” He spun around. “She will never, ever be theirs!”
The possessive fury in his voice sparked an ugly feeling. Jealousy of her own daughter? Nikola pushed it away, but her heart beat fast.
“You promised, Malach. You said that if it came down to it, you would choose me!”
A flash of pain. “And I meant it. But tell me something first. Do I even have that choice anymore?”
She said nothing. He nodded slowly. “I thought so. I offered you power once and you rejected it—”
“Your power!” she cried. “I don’t want someone else’s Mark, Malach. This is completely different! It belongs to me. And no, I won’t give it up! But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way.” She turned to the creche. “When I saw you in the playground, you seemed happy—”
“Saw me? So you were here twice before?”
“By accident!”
He growled something under his breath.
“I couldn’t stay that first time. Heshima might have caught me. But I wanted to see you again, so I came back. And then . . . .” She looked away.
The anger dissipated. “Couldn’t resist me, hmmm?”
“I must have been mad,” she muttered.
Malach took her hand. “Come talk in my room.”
She laughed. “Talk? I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
He raised a brow. “Is your self-control so fragile?”
“No.”
Malach’s face darkened. “Or do you plan to run from me again?”
“Not that either.”
He regarded her seriously. “Please.”
She felt her resolve crumbling. “What about the kids?”
“They’re sleeping.”
“What if we’re caught?”
“I already told Finlo about you. He’s the other minder.”
“You told him? Are you insane?”
“He’ll keep quiet.”
She bit her lip. “I thought you’d be the silent, stoic type.”
He barked a laugh. “Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“I don’t think I know you at all,” she grumbled.
He gave her a slow smile. “I’m an open book. You just need the patience to read to the end.”
She laughed. They did need to talk. And the mosquitoes were starting to gather. She slapped an arm. “Very well. Let’s return to the scene of the crime, shall we?”
They crept through the darkened house. She felt like a teenager sneaking into her boyfriend’s room. Inside his bedroom, Malach flipped on a table lamp. “Did you seriously row here?”
She showed him her hands. They still had scars. Malach kissed each palm.
“You’re crazy,” he said.
“I saw whales.”
He laughed. “Where’s the boat now?”
“You won’t be rowing home,” she said dryly. “It sank in a storm.”
He frowned.
“I held onto an oar.”
“Let me guess. The current swept you into a cavern with three weird women.”
She nodded. “What do they want with you, Malach?”
“I don’t know. But they won’t let me leave.” He studied her face. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. It was never my intention to put you through all that.”
“If I hadn’t met you, I’d still be scrubbing floors and drinking too much. I’d probably have ended a suicide—”
“Don’t say that!” he said sharply. “Not even as a joke.”
“I wasn’t joking.” She smiled. “So let’s call it even.”
“Did Falke mistreat you?”
“Not really. He just kept me locked in a room until the baby came.”
“What does she look like?”
“Now? I only saw her once. She would have been about three months old.” Nikola paused. “She was already walking.”
“We grow swiftly the first year. Then it slows down.” Malach sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll call her Rachel. That was my mother’s name.”
The longing in his voice ignited a spark of fear.
“I didn’t know that.” She paused. “What was your father’s name?”
“Devorion. I barely remember either of them. They died when I was very young.” Malach eyed the necklace at her throat. “I’ve never seen a stone like that. What is it?”
“Serpent’s eye.”
“The witches gave it to you?”
“In a way,” she hedged. “They say it’s the rarest of all gems.”
“Then it suits you.” He took her hand, tugging her closer. Warm hands circled her waist. He started to ease her hem up. Nikola pushed it down again, feeling exposed in the lamplight.
“Don’t,” she said.
“Why not?” He stroked her knee.
“Because I’m ugly now.”
Malach frowned. “Why would you say that?”
“I have stretch marks.”
He regarded her through his lashes. “I want to see,” he murmured.
Before she could stop him, her dress was above her hips. She covered the scarred seams on her belly with a hand. Malach gently drew it away.
“I like them,” he said, tracing one with a feather-light brush of his lips. “They give you character.”
Nikola snorted. “Stop! It tickles!”
“Not so loud . . . Does this tickle?”
Curse him! Curse her twice! Before Nikola quite knew what was happening, they were rolling around on the bed, frantically shedding clothing. Afterwards, Malach lay on his back, gaze sweeping restlessly across the ceiling. She’d tried hard to wear him out, but he still burned with a fierce energy.
“Help me, Nikola. Help me get her back. Then I’ll never ask anything of you again.”
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Even if I put you inside the Arx, you’d never get her out again.”
“Unless you brought us both back.” He rolled over, face intent. “I’d raise her with the other children.”
She blinked in surprise. “You’d come back here?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “I would. It’s the safest place for her.”
“What about the other nihilim?” She regarded him skeptically. “Would you really walk away from this war?”
He held her eyes. “I’ll admit, that used to be all I cared about. But there’s more to life than some endless struggle for dominance. You taught me that.” He shook his head. “I was obsessed with leaving, but only because I wanted to find you. Now that I have. . . .” He stroked her cheekbone with a thumb. “I understand that you want something else. But if I had our daughter, I would be at peace.”
The words rang with simple sincerity. Yet what he was asking . . . .
“And if they kill you?” she demanded.
“They won’t.” He eyed the stone at her neck. “Can you remove the kaldurite?”
“Where is it?”
“Inside me.” He patted his abdomen. “Somewhere thereabouts.”
She shook her head. “I have no idea how to do that.”
“Try.”
Nikola laid a hand on his stomach. The stone itself was a void, a black hole the ley could not touch. But she sensed complex charms of protection winding around it, binding the kaldurite to his essence. She couldn’t fathom how the witches had accomplished it. She withdrew her hand.
“You’re asking me to draw a warded stone from living flesh. I’ve only just mastered the basics!”
Malach’s eyes narrowed. “Transporting yourself from one place to another doesn’t sound like the basics, Nikola.”
“That’s different. I stumbled over it. Frankly, I’m amazed I haven’t killed myself. But if I attempted to summon that stone, it might kill you.”
He sat up. “Fine. Then I’ll go like this.”
“With no ability to use the ley?” she asked in disbelief.
“Falke doesn’t know that.”
“I’m not even sure I could move someone else.”
“I bet you can.”
Privately, Nikola thought so, too. The box was the box. Whatever was inside it got forced. All the debris that came along for the ride was evidence of that. But she wasn’t going to admit it.
“No,” she said flatly.
“Then I’ll cut the stone out myself.”
She stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”
Malach gazed back. “You doubt me?”
His face was deadly earnest. A bluff? Impossible to know for sure. He had a streak of madness. She’d seen it the night he nearly killed himself crossing the Wards at the Arx. Nikola cursed herself again for coming back. How neatly he’d set the trap.
“Why?” she snapped. “Why can’t you just let her go?”
He was silent for a long moment. “If my daughter was dead, I could accept that. If anyone else had her, I might be able to live with that, too. But not Dmitry Falke.” His jaw tightened. “He’s the one who led the campaign against Bal Kirith. He murdered my sister in her cradle.”
Nikola felt a jolt of shock. “You did have a sister.”
“A newborn. Scarcely a week old.” His eyes grew distant. “When the knights breached the walls, my father told me to watch over her. I was in her nursery when a shell hit. Falke came. I thought he’d kill me, but he told me to run.” Malach swallowed. “I . . . I did. I left her there.”
She took his hand. “I’m so sorry. How old were you?”
“Four.”
“Saints.”
“Both my parents died that day. I scavenged in the Morho until Beleth found me, half-starved and burning with fever. Another mage would have left me to fend for myself. I was a burden. But she kept me. Taught me to survive. In the end, I abandoned her, too.” He lifted his head. “Do you understand now? I have no choice in this, Nikola. If I let her go, if I let Falke raise her as his own, it’ll devour me.”
Nikola wanted to deny it, but she saw the truth in his eyes. “Won’t the witches know she’s here?”
“If I explain it to Finlo, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Paarjini barely notices the kids. One more won’t make a difference.”
“You won’t fool the Mahadeva.”
“Perhaps not,” he conceded. “But at least Rachel would be here. That’s all I want. It’s what the witches want, too.”
“They’ll know I did it.”
“Please, Nikola.” His voice was raw. “I’m begging you. Help me get my daughter back. You’re the only one who can.”
She thought of the tiny Raven Mark on the infant’s neck. “You don’t know anything about her, Malach. And she doesn’t know about you. You said she’d be powerful. What if she fights us?”
“She can’t use the ley on me. I know it’s not too late! But the longer I wait, the harder it’ll be for her. Please.”
She looked away, full of misgivings. “I’ll take you, Malach. And I’ll bring you both back. But I can’t be involved in raising her. You must agree to that.”
“I have no objection.”
She steeled her voice. “This is a formal bargain, mage.”
He smiled faintly. “Done and done, Domina Thorn.”
“I’ll need gems.” She touched her necklace. “I can’t keep using this.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t want him to know the price she’d paid. “I just can’t.”
“I have stones. They pay me for my work here.”
He strode to the dresser, opened one of the drawers, and tossed her a drawstring pouch. “Will those work?” he asked.
Nikola surveyed the contents. It was a decent mix of both projective and receptive stones. “I think so. When do you want to do it?”
“Right now.”
She muttered an oath.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he said reasonably. “Always the best time for an ambush.”
“I don’t even know where she is!”
“Falke does. And I’ll wager he keeps her close. We take him hostage—quietly—make him bring us to Rachel, and get out.”
She stared at him, heart thumping. It was mad.
Yet not impossible.
And Malach was right. If they were going to do it, why not right now?
She pictured the look on Falke’s face when he opened his eyes to find them both standing over him.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go get the kid.”
Malach grinned. “No mercy. If we meet any knights, I’m killing them.” His eyes glinted. “And I’ll fucking enjoy it.”
She pulled her dress on. “I don’t want to be part of a bloodbath, Malach.”
He scowled. “How can it be avoided?”
“I know a few tricks.”
“Fine. But I won’t let them take us.”
She tied her head scarf on. “Agreed. I just hope you’re right about Falke keeping her close. I should be able to bring us into his bedchamber. I know the Pontifex’s Palace.”
Malach pulled on a pair of boots. He tied a length of cloth around his waist and donned a long-sleeved linen shirt.
“No pants?” she asked with a tense smile.
“It’s called a Rahai. Haven’t you seen them before?”
