Chapter 41
KYE FOUND THE twins in the bell tower. And nearly fell prey to their booby trap; the wire strung across the stairway was practically invisible.
“Clever,” she said, loud enough for anyone hiding above to hear.
“Kye!”
Lux’s cry echoed off the tower’s stone walls. The twins bolted from where they’d been hiding behind the wreckage of the biggest bell, the one that had once sent deep, booming peals of vibrating sound across Zelos. This had been her third stop, after their home and, thinking it would be very like them to hide under the Coalition’s nose, the tree next to the compound wall. She had been standing there, pondering her next move, vaguely aware of the absence of the cannon that had been moved back to the ridge above the mines yesterday, when the thought of the bell tower had occurred to her.
They nearly knocked her off her feet with fierce hugs.
“Eirlys,” they began, sounding frightened in a way she had never heard from this near-fearless pair before.
“I know. Your brother and Brander have gone for her.”
That quickly, the fear ebbed. For a moment, she envied them their youth, their faith that not even the force of the Coalition could stop the man who was the cornerstone of their life. She realized in that moment she did not know what the twins thought of the public Drake, how they felt about the façade, if it had fooled them as it had her and everyone else. She knew only that, to them, he was still the man who would protect them unto death, regardless of what the rest of Ziem thought.
Which was how this might well end. Not that she did not have faith in Drake, and near as much in her cousin, but she also knew the Coalition too well to assume anything.
“Come, we must go. Quickly.”
“Where?”
She had been pondering this all during her search. It had helped to keep her mind off Eirlys, Drake, and Brander. If this was more than just Jakel unleashing his vileness on a girl alone, if there was a chance this wasn’t just his personal evil but something to do with the Coalition . . . if they somehow suspected Drake wasn’t who he appeared to be . . .
She suppressed a shudder. If the Coalition suspected anything at all, all the Davorins would have a price on their heads. And she knew their ruthlessness well enough to know the twins’ youth would not save them.
“Bring them here if necessary . . .”
“We’re going to the Sentinels,” she said. Excitement flashed in the two identical sets of eyes that looked up at her. “But you must say nothing, and do exactly as I tell you.”
They nodded, their lips pressed tightly together. It took her a second to realize they were implementing the first instruction right now. Despite her worry, she felt a spark of amusement.
“Stay close, then,” she said, and led them down the stairs, dodging their trap once more.
She took her most indirect, convoluted route, even though it would take longer. The twins held up surprisingly well, and except for a couple of times when the sight of a beast or bird startled an exclamation out of them, they kept to the rules she’d set. They seemed to realize the importance of it, and every time she glanced at them in the glowmist, their expressions were solemn.
I should not be surprised. They are, after all, Davorins.
By the time they went down the ladder into the main room of the ruin, Eirlys was already there. The twins ran to her, exultant, crying out everything they had likely suppressed on the long trek.
But Kye only had one image burned into her mind. Eirlys had been crying before she ever saw the twins. She looked both stunned and devastated. Kye stopped in her tracks.
Brander, who had been with Eirlys, started toward her immediately.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
“Kye—”
“Where is he, Brander?”
He let out a breath. “Jakel has him.”
She stared at him, so many things rocketing through her mind she couldn’t pick one to say.
“He gave himself up to him, Kye. To save Eirlys.”
Everything in her seemed to seize up, even her heartbeat faltered.
“He’s . . . dead?”
“No.” Brander said it through clenched teeth. “Not yet.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the Raider’s quarters. She didn’t even resist. She was thinking of the brutal enforcer, of what had been left of others who had fallen into his hands; there had too often been barely enough to bury.
Brander turned as soon as the door was closed.
“Jakel suspects something, but it seems only that Drake’s been working with the Raider. Eirlys says he’s been watching. Noticing that when the Raider struck, Drake wasn’t at the taproom. That he is often on the mountain. And, of course, there’s his obsession with his name.”
“Little.”
“Yes, it is little enough evidence. And if called upon there is . . . someone who will say he was elsewhere at those times. In Sanguine.”
In her torment, it took her a moment to realize what he meant. The woman Drake had said had provided information.
“But that will not stop Jakel,” Brander said, derailing thoughts she did not care for.
“No.”
“He will try to torture the truth out of him.”
“Yes.”
“And Drake will never give in.”
“No.”
“And if he gains the slightest suspicion that Drake actually is the Raider, he is as good as dead.”
She couldn’t even summon up a single word answer for that. For, too clear in her mind’s eye was the knowledge that Drake wouldn’t just die, he would die hard and ugly.
“Kye—”
She shook her head sharply. She had never felt anything like the chill that had come over her now. It was a cold deeper than the ice atop The Sentinel, more barren than the rock above the Edge. She could hear the buzz going around the room outside; thought idly that a careful listen would likely tell them which, if any, of the Sentinels knew the Raider’s true identity.
She found her voice at last. “Jakel has always hated Drake. In the way a weak creature hates a stronger, smarter one.”
“I know. Even a brollet recognizes the danger of a clever wolf.”
“He wants to prove Drake is . . . ordinary, by breaking him. Bring him down to his own level.” She was pacing now as she spoke, her mind racing.
“And because he’s a Davorin.”
“Yes. He would do the same with or without suspicions of a connection to the Raider.”
Brander nodded. “He needed only the excuse.”
She stopped. Turned back. “We need to do a raid,” she said abruptly.
Brander’s gaze narrowed. “How can we do a raid when he is—”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “That’s exactly why we need to do it.”
Brander blinked. “Echo that?”
“We need to do a raid, now, tonight.”
He stared at her.
“Jakel is stupid, but he is shrewd. We have to make sure he doesn’t make that jump.”
Her cousin looked suddenly thoughtful. “So a raid . . . while they have Drake locked up.”
“Yes.”
“Show them he’s not the Raider.”
“Exactly. It might keep him alive.”
“Assuming he still is,” Brander said, his tone grim.
Her heart slammed in her chest. She’d known it was possible he was not, but hearing it said aloud made it even more real.
“He is,” she insisted, for her own sake as much as convincing her cousin. “I would feel it were he not.”
He gave her a sideways look at that, but the mocking comment she half expected did not come.
“So this raid you want to do . . . ,” was all he said, bringing them back to the subject.
She nodded. “It has to be something . . . outrageous. Right under their noses. Something the Raider would do.” She took a breath, then added, “And you need to be the Raider.”
His brows shot upward. “What?”
“Who better? You’re his second, you know the way he works, plans.”
“So do you.”
She gave an inelegant snort. “I know you are my cousin and look at me as such, but if you really think I could fool anyone into thinking I’m the Raider—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Brander said. “No one sane—or at least no man—would ever mistake you for anything but a woman. I just meant you know how he thinks better than any of us. That,” he ended with emphasis, “is without doubt.”
Brander was probably the only one who knew the depth of her connection to his best friend. And the Raider himself had told her of his support, of how Brander had been for them together before he himself had dared to even think about it. So she met his gaze steadily. Gave him the honesty he deserved for that. “I love him.”
Brander rolled his eyes. “I know that. I’ve known that for years.”
“Even when I hated him, I loved him, too.”
His expression softened. “You never hated him. It was merely that the Drake you loved was hidden. And as the Raider, he felt he could not ask you to risk the cost of . . . loving him.”
“He did not have to ask. Love does not come—or go—to order.”
Brander was quiet for a moment before saying softly, “I see where all the wisdom in the family went.”
She was not used to such gentle understanding from her usually teasing cousin. And they had strayed from the subject at hand.
Nervous energy bubbling over, she began to pace. His quarters seemed hollow, and much larger without the Raider’s immense presence.
“You’re nearly his height and size, and his cloak will mask any difference. The helmet and the mask will do the rest.”
He shook his head. “Not the mask. The Sentinels will know it’s me, and that would give away to all of them that the mask is part of the disguise. It may come out in the end, but I won’t make that decision for him by displaying it.”
“But you’ll do it?”
“I cannot match his skill. Or his planning. Most of all, his inspiring the troops. I’m a poor substitute.”
“You, in fact, are not. You just haven’t had to be.”
His head snapped around. “Careful, my cousin, you strayed perilously close to a compliment there.”
She stopped her pacing. Turned to look at him straight-on. “I have been a fool there, as well, if I have not told you how much I admire what you’ve done. The Raider would not have been able to accomplish as much as he has without you at his side.”
For the first time in her life, Brander had no quick retort. He simply stared at her for a long, silent moment. “What has brought this on?” he asked softly.
“Perhaps the final, undeniable knowledge that the next second is not guaranteed, let alone tomorrow.”
Something changed in his eyes then, something she recognized because she’d seen it in herself. “Some would say that is reason enough to avoid . . . entanglements.”
“And some,” she answered, as softly as he had spoken, and keeping her gaze on his face, “would say it is the best reason to seize what you can of happiness while you have the chance.”
Brander was very perceptive, under the mask of insouciance, which in its way was as much a disguise as the Raider’s scars. And she knew he’d taken her meaning by the way his gaze suddenly darted away.
“No one stays young for long in war,” she said. “And Eirlys hasn’t truly been a child since her mother threw herself from Halfhead.”
He winced, and she guessed it was from more than just the memory of the loss of Iolana Davorin.
“Perhaps,” Kye said, “Drake and all of Ziem should think more of how they lived, the love they shared, and not so much about how they died. Besides, I think that he has changed his mind about the place of love in war.”
Before Brander could respond to that, there was a knock on the door to his quarters. It swung open before either of them could respond, a measure, she supposed, of the Raider’s absence.
Pryl stood there, his expression grave. “Some of us are wondering if you’ve a plan yet.”
Brander and Kye exchanged glances. “A plan?” he asked tentatively.
Pryl grimaced. “To get Drake—the Raider.”
Brander and Kye exchanged a startled glance.
“Please,” the old woodsman said. “I’ve known for an age. I watched that boy grow up, don’t forget.”
“I see,” Kye said slowly.
Pryl shrugged. “He needed it secret, I kept it so. Although I think others have guessed as well.”
“Does he know you know?” Brander asked.
Again the shrug. “Seemed best never to speak it aloud. Not everyone can keep things close. So, is there a plan?”
Brander glanced at Kye, then turned back to face Pryl. “We need to make sure the Coalition doesn’t find out they really have the Raider.”
Pryl blinked. “And how do we do that?”
He gave her a glance and a smile of salute. “Kye solved it. The Raider has to strike again. Tonight.”