Power (Dark Scions Book 3) Read online

  I take a deep breath, cursing and desperately needing my lover at the same time. Damn you, Kaim. He knew this man’s life would come to rest entirely in my hands.

  Life and death. Who are we to try and have dominion over these things?

  I focus on the bulge of Enak’s vein.

  “Go lightly. When you see a little blood rise up the tip of the needle, you’ll know you’re in.”

  “This is arcane,” I mutter.

  “Hmph. It’s a very basic Mahdulu technique. You Middle Rift people really know nothing of what modern medicine is capable of.”

  “Because we’re so primitive compared those civilized Inshadi across the sea?” I say it half-jokingly, trying to calm my nerves. But then I remember how protective Kaim became when we encountered Bekhem on the shore; how strange I felt when the Inshadi looked into my eyes.

  “You have no idea. Pray you never have to find out.” Enak shakes his head. “Although once Kaim returns, you will have nothing to fear. Even the Inshadi would think twice about pissing him off.”

  Not so, apparently.

  “I’m going to do it now,” I whisper, pressing the tip of the needle against Enak’s brown skin. The small talk has helped me focus, and now I understand what I must do with perfect clarity.

  But Enak’s arm is shaking like crazy. I press it down firmly with my other hand, stabilizing it.

  The tip goes in.

  I see a flash of blood, and to my surprise, it’s deep purple, not red like mine.

  Another Inshadi quirk? Are they even human?

  I depress the tiny wooden lever at the top of the fang, and a cloth-tipped plunger descends, pushing the milky-white mixture into Enak’s vein.

  For a moment, nothing happens.

  Then the shaking stops, and Enak goes perfectly still. His eyes roll up into the back of his head. The markings on his face have turned brown; the same shade as his skin. I recoil in horror. The syringe falls from my fingers and clatters onto the floor, rolling around as the ship sways from side to side.

  I gasp.

  Did I miss?

  Is he dead?

  Why do I feel so calm, like I’ve drunk a goblet of warm mead?

  “Wake up, Enak.” I grab his shoulder and shake frantically. “Wake up, curse you. I don’t want you to die.”

  A great shudder goes through his body and suddenly he sits bolt-upright, gasping for air.

  “Enak! Are you all right?”

  “Outside,” he gasps. “S-something’s wrong.”

  I sigh in relief. He’s alive.

  I’ve seen so much death, and I’m starting to loathe it.

  “What are you talking about, Enak?” How does he know?

  “Hundreds of souls,” he hisses, staggering to his feet. He looks down at his hands, opening and closing them experimentally. His arms have stopped trembling. He rises to his full height, towering above me. There’s a strange glint in his golden eyes; he looks half mad.

  He could easily overpower me. Have I made a terrible mistake?

  Enak strides across the cabin, shaking the stiffness from his limbs. He reaches the far wall and grabs a long staff from a steel rack. The staff has a nasty metal-bladed tip that could easily be used to impale a body.

  What is he doing? Is this revenge? Has he gone mad?

  Dread rises in my chest. I edge toward the door.

  Enak turns toward me, raising his staff.

  I turn and burst out onto the decks, bright sunlight momentarily blinding me. I run toward the bow, wind whipping my hair around my face.

  “Wait,” he calls hoarsely. He curses in Inshadi. “I’m not going to hurt you, Amali. I’m not that kind of maniac.”

  “What do you want, Enak?”

  “Look.” He uses his staff to point in the opposite direction, toward the ship’s rear. “Just look.”

  I skid to a halt. The wind swirls around me. Wave after wave crashes into the ship’s hull. They seem to be getting bigger.

  I turn and look over my shoulder, at the horizon.

  At first I don’t see anything, just the wide blue ocean and the endless sky.

  Hundreds of souls.

  What does that even mean?

  But then I see something.

  A black dot on the horizon.

  Enak’s face resembles a thundercloud. The markings above his cheeks have turned pure black. He clutches his staff tightly, his expression fierce.

  He looks like he wants to fight.

  “Wh-what is that?”

  “A ship. I can’t see their insignia from here, but I have a suspicion.” He slips his staff into a loop behind his jacket and runs toward the mainsail, where he quickly adjusts the angle. He looks over his shoulder, cursing. “The wind’s on our side, but it’s also on theirs. I don’t think we can outrun them.”

  “Midrians?”

  “Probably.”

  “What can we do?” On all sides, we’re trapped by the ocean. There’s nowhere to run. To the east, the distant shore beckons; a pale, shimmering mirage in the sunshine. “We must make for land.”

  The black dot grows larger, morphing into taut white sails. It’s moving at a terrible speed. Is this sorcery?

  “That’s a big warship, traveling light,” Enak growls. “I can alter course and head toward land, but there’s no guarantee we’ll reach there in time. I haven’t pissed anyone off recently, so I presume they’re after you. The Midrian Empire doesn’t throw that many resources at simple criminals. Killed any emperors lately, Tieglander?”

  “H-how did you know?”

  “A Marked One like you? Word travels fast. I put two and two together. Besides, you came here with him. There’s always a trail of death where he’s involved.”

  “You’ve figured it out. Word travels fast. So what? You’re going to give me up to save your hide?”

  “Don’t be so distrustful. I’m not going to sell you out, Amali. I’m not some coin-obsessed idiot. You know, there are a whole bunch of people on the Rift Continent who probably think you’re a saint for what you did.”

  I shake my head. “I’m nothing of the sort. I just wanted revenge.”

  “You think all those saints were trying to be saints at the time?” Enak chuckles, but his expression is grim. “Let’s make for land. Nekkuri’s a fast ship, but she wasn’t built to outrun a full-sized dreadnought. If they catch us, I’ll hide you in a compartment below decks. But be prepared for the possibility they might take you alive.”

  The white sails loom closer, an ominous smudge on the horizon.

  My hand drops to the pouch containing the Grand Magnars.

  Kaim’s fortune.

  An impossible dream.

  Imagine if they fell into the hands of some Midrian asshole.

  I can’t let that happen.

  I meet Enak’s golden eyes and silently beg for his goodwill. “We are fastest with the wind at our backs. Don’t turn toward land. Keep going.”

  His brow furrows in confusion. “Our chances of escaping them in the long run are slim to none. And if the wind changes… we’re screwed.”

  “I believe you. But I don’t want to escape them. I want you to escape them.”

  The healer cocks his head, giving me a strange look. Then he laughs. “You’re mad, Tieglander. But then I suppose that’s what got you into this situation in the first place, isn’t it?”

  I reach for the pouch hidden at my waist. The strange metal coins clink together as I pull it out.

  I toss it to Enak.

  He snatches it out of the air. “What’s this?”

  “A kingdom, apparently. Take a look.”

  Enak opens the pouch and lets out a low whistle. “If I’d known you were carrying a fool’s fortune the size of a kingdom on you, I would have seriously thought about tossing that damn thing overboard. That’s bad money, Tieglander. I don’t care how much it is. It’s blood money.”

  I shake my head. I can’t afford to worry about such things now. “I think you’re an ho
norable man, Enak. Please, I beg you, go to Kalabar and find my people.” I reach for Kaim’s blade, which is snugly tucked into my waistband. There’s no use for it where I’m going. I lay it on the deck and kick it across to Enak.

  He catches it beneath his bare foot. “Now I know you’ve gone mad, Tieglander. I don’t want this cursed thing. There’s far too much blood on it. Take it back, Amali.”

  I shake my head. “You need it, because you’re going to show it to the Tenggu. Kaim says they will recognize it; they will accept you if you possess it, because they’ll know there’s no way you could have taken it from him by force.”

  Enak looks down at the slightly curved sword, still sitting in its elegant black sheath. My heart skips a beat as I remember the inhumanly graceful way Kaim wielded it, as if it were an extension of his own body.

  The tool of a master.

  It should be in his hands.

  He’s the one who makes death seem almost beautiful.

  Enak’s looking at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. “You’re telling me I must go to the lands of the Tenggu and show the Horse People an assassin’s sword?”

  “Yes. Then you will deliver this coin to Anaya, chieftess of the Serpent’s Tongue River Tieg, and tell her to hold it and wait for me. If word reaches them that I have been killed, then they must figure a way to use the coin to guarantee their future.” A strange feeling rises in my chest. It’s the same feeling that overcame me when I killed Horghus. Perhaps I’m a naive idiot for trusting an almost-stranger, but what else can I do? “And tell her that we can’t live by the old ways if we want to survive. She’ll know what I mean. If I make my way back to you, I swear on my mother’s ashes I’ll grant you anything that’s within my power to give.”

  Enak looks over the horizon, focusing on the enemy ship. His golden gaze turns distant. For a moment, I fear he will reject my plea, but then he does something strange.

  He walks across to me and places his hands on my shoulders. Then he leans forward and touches his forehead to mine. “I’ve spent ten winters in Golkar. I’ve seen things in that shithole you can’t even imagine. All the while, I felt like I was waiting for something. Maybe this is it. I would take your coin to Kalabar, but my chances of escaping this ship are…”

  “You will escape them. Trust me.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Enak’s eyes narrow. “What are you planning, Tieglander?”

  My gaze is locked onto the horizon; onto the big white sails that grow larger and larger in the distance. My heart beats faster, pounding like a war drum. Every muscle and sinew in my body is taut, as if I’m about to fight.

  The madness is back.

  I know exactly what I must do.

  “I’ll make it so that you can escape. Don’t you worry about me, Enak,” I growl. “Don’t slow down, and don’t you dare come after me. Keep going until there’s nothing behind you but the ocean.”

  “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, I can’t let you do it, Amali. Your mate will tear my head off if anything happens to you.” The way he’s looking at me makes me think he wants to lock me up in his cabin so I don’t do anything rash.

  I would bloody well jump overboard before that happened.

  “You let me worry about that when I see him,” I snap, suddenly consumed by a terrible sense of urgency. I point over the horizon. “I saved your life, healer. Yes, it was Kaim who poisoned you in the first place, but I chose to release you from your agony long before I was supposed to. I did it because I trust you, and now I’m asking you to trust me. I know what I’m doing, Enak. Don’t get between me and my people’s fate. I would never forgive you.”

  The healer gives me a long, hard look, golden eyes narrowing. A strange feeling ripples over my skin. It’s similar to the way I felt when the Inshadi called Bekhem stared looked me in the eyes, just before Kaim rescued me.

  I can’t move.

  Can’t breathe…

  Stop it!

  Just before I fall completely under his terrible spell, Enak looks away, and the strange feeling leaves my body.

  I can move again.

  What was that?

  Shocked, I stare at the half-Inshadi healer. He has powers too. He’s been hiding them this entire time.

  The big man lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “This is one of those times when I’m going to end up doing something against my better judgement.” He shrugs. “It’s worked before. Why not now? What do you want to do, Amali?”

  “You know what I’m saying is the truth. Just wait a little bit longer,” I say softly, staring out across the brilliant blue sea. “Just a little longer…”

  Four

  Amali

  We stand side-by-side in tense silence as the Nekkuri ploughs into small white-capped swells, pushed along by the relentless wind.

  Ultimately, Enak has been proven right. No matter how fast we sail, the Midrian ship keeps bearing down on us. It’s close enough now that I can make out the tiny figures on deck and the blood-red flag fluttering above its mainsail.

  A black dragon on a red background; long and sinuous, claws outstretched, red tongue unfurled.

  Behind it is a golden sun, sending out yellow striped rays.

  I haven’t seen that one before. The dragon looks nothing like the one Kaim encountered on the mountain.

  Usually, the Midrians would have flown a flag bearing Horghus’s spider.

  Is this Krogen’s army, then?

  I don’t care who they are. If I can see them, then they can see me.

  Standing over the stern, I thrust my face into the wind and yell an old Tieg war-cry. “I am a Marked One,” I scream at the wind, “and if you kill me, gutless bastards, the God of Death will make you suffer for all eternity.”

  Kaim will make you suffer.

  Maybe, just maybe, if I believe hard enough, it might actually come true.

  “What was that, Amali?”

  I look up at the big man. His features are blank with shock. “The future of my entire tribe rests with you now, healer. If you ever wanted to be a saint, then now’s your chance.”

  He takes a step forward, reaching for me. “Wait, Amali. Wait. Think about what you’re doi—”

  “May Celise grant you speed and luck,” I whisper, knowing full well that those things aren’t hers to give. “And don’t stop, whatever you do. I beg of you. For all our sakes.”

  I stare at the blue waters below. The ocean looks perfect; cool and endless and inviting.

  Before Enak can do a thing, I grab onto the railing and leap over the side, plummeting into the seductive waters below.

  Splash!

  The sea takes me into her cool, salty embrace. I close my eyes, reveling in the absence of sound; in perfect nothingness.

  I conjure an image of Kaim in my mind’s eye. He’s perfectly naked and leaning over me, a gentle smile curving his pale lips.

  His face is perfectly open, his expression soft and innocent, his gaze mesmerizing and tender.

  He leans in to kiss me…

  His lips press against mine, but there’s nothing there.

  He isn’t real, just a figment of my imagination.

  And my lungs are burning.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!

  I struggle against the ocean’s grip, pulling myself upwards, kicking furiously until I breach the surface.

  Breathe!

  I drink in the air with great, heaving gasps. I beat my hands back and forth to keep afloat, holding my head above the surface. Gentle waves lift me up and down. I blink furiously, trying to get a sense of my bearings.

  I look up. The sun is high in the sky, and the brilliant blue sky is almost blinding. The Nekkuri is behind me, and Enak is standing on the deck, gesticulating wildly at me.

  I can’t hear him. He’s too far away.

  I raise my hand and give him a wave. I’m okay. Go! Don’t you dare come back for me, otherwise all of this would have been for nought.


  But I’m not okay, really.

  I glance over my shoulder.

  Here comes the big Midrian ship, a hundred times bigger than Enak’s small vessel, the black dragon pennant flapping ominously above its many white sails.

  It’s slowing down.

  Good.

  They saw me go overboard, and they want me alive.

  They won’t kill me here. No, they’ll take me back to Daimara, where they’ll offer me up as a sacrifice to their new would-be god-emperor.

  I can see them up on the decks now, staring at me, pointing and shouting wildly. Men scurry about like ants, pulling ropes, adjusting the sails, entering small boats on the sides that they start to lower into the sea.

  Crazy Midrians.

  Enak is starting to gain some distance. That is good. I will help him a little.

  They want to fish me out of the water?

  First they will have to catch me.

  It’s a good thing I learned to swim in the forked tongue of the Siberius river. The ocean might be a much vaster body of water, but I am not afraid.

  Death comes for us all, eventually.

  And Kaim will come for me.

  Five

  Kaim

  They carry me through the jungle, and then they haul me over the rocks. They wade through murky rivers, dousing me in cool water that tastes like mud. They take me deep into misty valleys where the flies and mosquitoes swarm around them, and I derive some small satisfaction from knowing that the cursed insects will never touch me.

  Always, I’m tied up.

  Not once do they unbind my arms or wrists, not even when I need to take a piss.

  Cursed gods, now that is awkward.

  Fools and cowards they are.

  At night, they leave me bound, forcing me to sleep in this cursed uncomfortable position.

  They leave my wrists bandaged, even though the flesh is starting to slough and fester.

  They barely feed me or allow me to drink, saving their tightly packed rations for themselves. I’m reduced to trying to catch drops of rainwater in my mouth as I hang upside-down on that cursed pole. An ordinary man would have died by now, but they know I’m not an ordinary man.