“Because one of them was not only stained but wearing the same sort of silver bracelet as the children and the three women in Winterborne.”
“Stained?” He stared at me for several seconds, horror slowly growing on his face. “How is that even possible? As far as I know—and as far as any history books are concerned—the Adlin fed on the flesh of the dead but were never involved in the war itself. From everything I’ve read, the Irkallan basically left them alone.”
“Him being stained is not even the worst of it.” I paused, shuddering as the image of the Adlin’s face rose like a ghost to taunt me. “He had human eyes.”
“Impossible.”
“No.”
He swore and thrust a hand through his short hair. “That’s not the news we needed right now. Not when there’re also traitors in our ranks to contend with.”
“Two of those traitors are now dead, and Saska’s at least fighting the control of the queen.” I hesitated. “We can’t really ignore the possibility that the Irkallan are behind all this. Not now.”
“No.” He scrapped a hand across his jaw, the sound like sandpaper. “But if they are, then the two half-assed attempts to regain the bracelets makes even less sense.”
“Half-assed?” I raised my eyebrows. “You can hardly call the destruction of Winterborne’s gate mechanics and the walls here half-assed. They came damn close to causing untold damage.”
“Yes, and that’s what has me worried. They could have pushed their advantage, and they didn’t. They’d caught us unawares and did nothing with it. Whatever else history might have said about the Adlin and the Irkallan, it is fact that they always pushed an advantage.”
“Yes, but it’s not the Adlin behind this plot. Saska’s queen is controlling them through their leader.” I hesitated. “In truth, it’s probably the offspring of the witches who are our greatest threat right now. If the three who attacked this place are any indication, they’re capable of great magic.”
It would also, I realized suddenly, explain Saska’s comment about her captors killing her three perfect little girls. They weren’t after perfection; they wanted the stained, and the greater the staining, the better, because it appeared to indicate a stronger capacity for unrestrained power.
So where did that leave me? Half my body was stained, and yet I didn’t appear to be capable of the same sort of power those three kids had called forth.
“They undoubtedly are the greater threat,” Trey said, “but given we’ve never been able to find the women who remain missing, tracking their offspring will be nothing short of impossible. Besides, neither Pyra nor Hedra even remembered having children.”
Which was decidedly odd given Saska could. “Has Kiro sent any word about what’s happening at Winterborne?”
“Nothing more than the fact that the masque continues unheeded, and that Saska seems to have become more unstable since your departure. He’s got her under close guard at the moment—and he’s called in reinforcements from the Nightwatch to do so.”
“Really? Who?”
“I believe one of them is a friend and bunkmate of yours—”
“Ava?” I couldn’t help my delighted grin. At least she’d finally be able to see and experience life the Upper Reaches, even if only from a distance.
“Yes. He doesn’t trust that the Reaches guards have not been coerced or infiltrated, so put in a request for ten Nightwatch officers to guard major points.” He hesitated. “I believe he put in a specific request for two of your bunkmates because of your trust in them, but one is in hospital recovering from wounds received in the attack.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “How bad are the wounds?”
“Kiro didn’t say. I didn’t get the impression they were life-threatening, though.”
Relief spun through me. Not life-threatening could have meant anything, but at least he wasn’t dead. Then the rest of Trey’s statement impacted me. “If Kiro is aware of how close I am to both Ava and April, he’s read me more thoroughly than I’d hoped.”
“But not as thoroughly as he would have liked.”
I frowned. “Surely he can’t still believe I’m holding secrets that are dangerous to Winterborne? Not after everything that has happened.”
“No.” Trey paused. “But he does believe you’re the key to unlocking what’s happening.”
I snorted. “A stained Nightwatch officer with uncertain, untrained abilities and who-knows-what parentage is highly unlikely to be the key to anything, Commander.”
“And yet Kiro believes otherwise.” He hesitated again. “And be warned, he’s currently investigating your parentage.”
“How is that likely to be of any help?”
Trey shrugged. “He didn’t say. But he is definitely a man who’ll leave no stone unturned in his quest for answers.”
“Do you think he’ll tell me if he does uncover my parents?”
“Would you want to know if he did?”
“I don’t know.” I frowned. “I mean, they cast me aside like so much rubbish. I shouldn’t care—and I don’t—but I guess there is a part of me curious as to who they might be.”
“Which is only natural.”
“Perhaps, but such curiosity isn’t likely to end well. Not for me, anyway.” Of course, it was doubtful he’d actually be able to uncover any information. It wasn’t like the birth records of the stained were overly detailed—mine had nothing more than the date of my birth and the name I’d been given on being handed into state care. “But I’m glad the Nightwatch has joined us. I’ll feel less alone and out of place.”
Trey raised his eyebrows. “So my company has not been pleasing to you?”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” I waved a hand. “For all your talk about the Upper Reaches no longer being a part of you, you were raised in that place and are comfortable there. I was not, and it was only the fact that I wasn’t there for pleasure that stopped me running back to where I belonged.”
“I know.” It was so softly said that I barely heard it. “But I, for one, am glad you didn’t give in to that particular desire.”
His words had that odd, earthy energy surging to life between us again. It was both powerful and sexual, and far more than mere attraction. It ran over me in a wave and made me burn. But again, it wasn’t just desire; it was deeper than that, stronger than that.
Something flickered in his eyes, something that set my soul racing, but it was just as quickly shut down. He thrust up from the chair and walked across to the window, staring out for several minutes without comment.
Leaving me to wonder if I’d imagined that flicker.
“Kiro wants us back tonight,” he said eventually. His voice was cool and collected. “Are you feeling up to it?”
“I’m feeling up to many things.” I frowned at his back and wondered why he’d retreated. What was he trying to keep from me? “Up to and including traveling.”
“Good.” If he heard the half invitation in my voice, he gave no sign of it. “Mace will be here in a few minutes to give you a final check. If all is well, we will leave at one.”
Which was little more than three hours from now, according to the ornate clock on the wall…. I blinked and suddenly looked more closely at my surroundings. Between the tapestry wall coverings and the richly covered furniture, it was very obvious I wasn’t in the hospital.
“Have I been placed in the guest apartments?” I said, surprised.
“No. My personal quarters.”
“What?” My gaze shot back to him, but he was still staring out the window. “Why?”
“Because it was easier; the secondary hospital had run out of room for beds.”
“So why aren’t I in the bunkhouse?”
“Until the wall is fully restored, no personnel will be staying there. All those not on duty are bunking down in the state apartments.” Though I couldn’t see his smile, I heard it in his voice. “It’s an understatement to say they’re quite enjoying the experience.”
“I can imagine, but it still doesn’t explain why I’m not with them.”