Chapter 49
DRAKE WAS A LITTLE surprised they were taking it so calmly. The flexibility of children, he guessed. Although there had been that moment when Lux had reached out, as if she feared he was but a specter and her fingers would go right through him. He’d even felt a twinge of pity for his mother when they’d shrugged off her amazing reappearance with little apparent interest; they’d been so little when she’d taken that climb up Halfhead, and barely remembered her at all.
“It is only to be expected,” she’d said composedly.
But they had not clung to him like this since they were those four-year-olds, and he could not deny it warmed him. As did their easy acceptance of the fact that he was indeed the Raider.
“We thought so,” Lux said quietly.
“All along,” Nyx agreed.
Kye’s presence did more to give him strength than anything else. She would have no more of hiding what they were to each other, and that was quite clear to one and all.
And he could hardly rebuke her for it, no matter that the thought of the risk she’d taken, even knowing he was likely already doomed, gave him chills. Not when he was feeling stronger with every minute spent back among the living. In a moment, he was even going to try standing up and see how it went. And once he was on his feet, he was going to take care of something he should have before; he wanted Kye pledged to him as soon as possible. He wanted her to have the Davorin name, and the official standing that carried, not to mention the inseparable bond with his family, should he not be so lucky next time.
He glanced at Eirlys, who was standing next to Brander. She had, it seemed, forgiven his friend, both for leaving while he lay in his quarters more dead than alive, and for hiding his own standing with the Sentinels.
“When you are up to it,” Kye said softly, “it would do The Sentinels a world of good to see you.”
“I think some of them don’t quite believe it yet,” Eirlys said.
“Took me a while myself,” Drake said dryly. He glanced at the people in his quarters. The people who meant the most to him. Even the mother he’d thought he would never forgive, and yet who had given him life. Twice.
“I gather they all know the truth now?” he asked.
Brander shrugged. “More of them already knew than we thought, so there didn’t seem to be much point in hiding it from the rest of them any longer. And I can’t say finding out the Raider is you hasn’t been energizing.”
Drake grimaced. Kye laughed. “They always wanted a Davorin to rally to. Now that they know you are the Raider, they will be unstoppable.”
Drake hoped she was right. The people of Ziem had rallied already, risking themselves to divert attention and allow his escape. Although escape was hardly the word for it; Kye and Kye alone had done it. Right under the Coalition’s nose.
“Paledan,” he murmured.
“Now there’s a riddle,” Brander said.
“Yes. He stopped Jakel from killing me.”
The other three winced. He himself felt a ripple of repulsion just saying the name of his torturer.
“Why?” Brander asked.
“I don’t know. I only know that another session with the man would have . . .”
He gave a shake of his head; remembering those agonizing hours was not productive at the moment. Nor did he want to speak of it now. Perhaps ever.
“Tell me how you found a way to get past Paledan,” Drake said. “He’s no fool.”
“I used the rail gun,” Brander said. “Near the main mine. Told the miners to get out because I was going to blow it. The guards believed me.”
And that would surely draw the new commander, given the mine was the only reason the Coalition was here. Ziem had little else of interest to them.
He shifted his gaze to Kye. “How did you find a way into the cellar?”
He saw Brander and Kye and Eirlys exchange glances. He lifted a brow at them. Realized with a little shock how odd it felt not to be wearing the scars here.
“We didn’t,” Kye finally said.
“They did,” Eirlys said, nodding toward the twins.
He drew back, shifted his gaze to the duo who were still sitting on the bed beside him. They looked up at him, Nyx’s gaze a bit mutinous, and Lux looking thoughtful, always a danger sign with her.
“When it was nearly over,” he said softly to them, “when I could feel I was on the edge of dying, it was you two I thought of. Of how I would miss you, would never see you grow up, never know the people you would become. I think it was only that that kept me here long enough for our mother to work her . . . magic.”
He saw their eyes widen, saw moisture glisten there, saw their lips part as if in awe.
“So how did you do this?” he asked.
“We didn’t break the rules,” Nyx said.
“You only said no more climbing—”
“The walls. And no more—”
“Skulking around outside—”
“The Coalition compound.”
The familiar—beloved—patter gave him a new burst of energy. “So?”
“We didn’t climb the wall, we—”
“Dug under. And we didn’t skulk outside—”
“We went inside.”
Drake closed his eyes for a moment. Shook his head. But he was smiling, and he made sure they saw it. Once they realized he wasn’t angry, the words came so rapid-fire he gave up trying to remember who said what and just listened to the flow. How their small tunnel had unexpectedly connected with an old, bigger one, which in turn connected with a newer one running the length of the compound, how they found other tunnels leading off from the main one, how they had gone back several times, exploring the underground labyrinth and finding many things. Including Jakel’s private torture chamber.
He suppressed another shudder at the name.
“Kye planned out the rest,” Brander said.
“Better stay on her good side, big brother,” Eirlys said with a smile at Kye. “I think she could do just about anything she had to.”
“Oh,” he said softly, his gaze fastened on Kye, “I intend to.”
And it was Kye, then, who suddenly turned to face his mother. And he recognized her stance, the set of her delicate jaw, and knew what was coming before she spoke.
“While I am beyond grateful to you for saving him, and owe you my allegiance, my life, and anything else you wish for that reason, I would still like an explanation.”
Drake held his breath, flicked a glance at his sister who appeared to be doing the same. His mother turned, faced Kye straight on. “Interesting,” she said, “that it is you who asks.”
“They would not,” Kye said. “They would tell themselves they should just be glad to have you back, and not to question it. But that does not mean they do not deserve an explanation.”
“Kye—” Drake began.
“Don’t,” she said, never taking her eyes off of his mother. “She left you. She left you with a sister barely nine and twins barely more than babies to raise. She let you all think she was dead, for nearly ten years. Let you believe that she had not loved any of you enough to stay through her own pain. She had plenty of time during the climb to Halfhead to change her mind, but she did not.”
Iolana Davorin took it all without a flicker of emotion, not the barest change of expression. Kye crossed her arms, and recognizing the stubborn body language too well, Drake tried again to intervene. “Kye—”
She cut him off, her tone becoming almost militant. “I know she is your mother, and you don’t feel you have a right to be furious. That’s fine, because I’m furious enough for all of you.” She turned back to his mother. “I have watched Eirlys struggle to accept her mother’s loss, have heard her wrestling with the realization that it would have been easier on all of them had you actually died with their father. And I have watched the twins, too clever not to know they were pitied, called those poor, abandoned orphans behind their backs.”
His mother winced slightly at that, but Kye was on the attack now, and there was no stopping her. “But most of all, I have watched Drake. I watched him scramble to hold what was left of his family together. I watched him subjugate his nature to keep the rest of the Davorins off the Coalition agenda. And then I watched the rise of the Raider, fighting the fight we’d thought impossible, risking his life time and again. And while I was too long blind to it, it was then Drake began to appear ever and always exhausted, because he was carrying two impossible loads, either one of which would have been too much for most men. And you left him to do it alone. If there is a reason worth doing that to your son, I bedamned well would like to hear it.”
To his surprise, his mother turned to look at him. “You have chosen well,” she said. “She is worthy of you, and of Ziem.”
Drake’s gaze flicked to Kye. “I know,” he said softly.
For an instant, that softness she so rarely let show warmed her eyes. But she didn’t let up. “Never mind the flattery. I would prefer a straight answer.”
Iolana faced her accuser. “What reason would be worth what I did? Ziem. I had seen her future, without him. And her destruction.”
Kye frowned. “You did this to him because of your vision?”
His mother shifted her gaze to him, and Drake saw moisture making her vivid eyes even brighter. “You think I did not fight it? Of course I did. I did not want any of this. But the future was unambiguous, unequivocal.”
“You always said your visions were . . . open to interpretation,” he said.
“Before, they always were. Arbitrary, coming for this but not for that. Full of symbols that could be taken one way or another. But this one was unmistakable. Without her leader, Ziem died. The Coalition using her up, and then destroying her as they have so many other worlds.” Her eyes were haunted, in that way he remembered from childhood meant she was seeing things no one else could see. “Nothing left but rubble, floating in the void,” she whispered. “Her people, all of them, incinerated in one mighty blast.”
There was such horror and anguish in her voice, in her face, that Drake felt an unwanted pang for this woman who had abandoned them. He heard the stir in the room; Iolana Davorin’s visions had been as legendary as the Spirit had become. He saw her draw in a deep breath, as if to steady herself, and then she went on, focused on him now. “When I first began to see, I thought that leader was your father. After they murdered him, the vision became clearer, sharper.” An odd, sad sort of smile curved her mouth for a moment. “And I saw it was to be you, as you are now. Grown tall and strong, brilliant and brave. The only one able to do what must be done. I fought what I saw, for I had lost so much already. I did not want you to be the one. But the vision of Ziem without you to lead cared nothing for my heart, and would not change. It never changes.”
Again he felt a pang; what use was seeing the future if you could do nothing about it? He imagined himself foreseeing Kye’s death and being helpless to change it. It would be a very special kind of hades.
“I was beaten. I went up Halfhead with full intent,” she said. “I meant to put an end to my agony. My people were shattered, and I felt their suffering. The Coalition had taken the man I loved. And now fate was demanding my beloved son. It was the only way to end my pain.”
“We saw you fall,” Drake said, his voice hoarse. “Half of Zelos saw you take the plunge. No one has ever survived Halfhead.”
“And yet I woke up days later, alive but badly injured, and being tended by Grim.”
Drake still found the silence of the towering, formidable figure that hovered ever close disconcerting. Kye and Eirlys had told him they had at first wondered if there was more to the relationship than loyal servant, but they had seen no sign.
She held up the arm that did not bend properly. “I nearly lost all use of this. Far too many bones were broken, and it felt as if my lungs had taken in half of the Racelock. The pain made me wish I had died. But Grim, my loyal friend, and the magic he’d found in the mountain and learned to use, kept me going.”
The big man shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, and his mother was quick to continue. “I began to realize that I had survived for a reason. Some higher purpose. And I spent much of these past years learning what that was.” She smiled, and for a moment he saw the woman he remembered—beautiful, ethereal, and of impossible grace. “It was Grim who began the Spirit legend, not I. But it took hold. And I have ever watched over you, and the children. Never doubt, Drake, that I love you more than you will ever know. For more reasons than I can explain.”
“Then why did you stay away?” Kye asked.
“So the Raider could be born.” She focused on Kye now, and something new had come into her voice. “In order for him to become who he had to be, the man Ziem needed, he had to fight to build the strength he would need. And the vision said he had to do it alone. He had to learn to carry a great load, so that one day he could carry an even heavier one.” She glanced at Drake, and the pride he saw there warmed him despite his ambivalent feelings. “And you have,” she said softly.
She turned back to Kye. “You know him well, and you knew him then, how reckless he could be. Had he not responsibility to hold him back, he would have died as his father did, in a blaze of Coalition fire. But I knew how much he loved them—” she gestured at the twins and Eirlys “—and needing to be there for them would slow him down until he was ready to be the leader Ziem needed. They would do what I feared I couldn’t—keep him alive.”
He couldn’t deny his mother’s words; after that day, he had been reckless, crazed with anger and grief, and ready to march into the mouth of hades to avenge his father’s death.
“I watched,” his mother said, turning now to look at both him and Kye, “and waited. I learned, both how to fight—again thanks to Grim—and how to harness the power of the mountain for my healing. I knew you would rise to fight, and when you did, I would be ready to help.”
“What if I had not?” he asked.
“I knew you would,” she repeated. “I had foreseen it. And you are your father’s son. And, although you don’t wish to hear it just yet, mine.”
She was right about that, Drake thought, but held the words back.
“And now,” Brander observed, “we really do have a meeting of legends. The Spirit and the Raider. The potential is . . . staggering.”
Kye’s gaze shot to Brander, then back to his mother, then to him. “Indeed,” she said softly. “We must use this. The Spirit and the Raider, two Davorins, standing together for Ziem. Posters, like the ones of the Raider, stenciled everywhere. Every Ziemite with a scrap of courage will rally.”
“So I have some worth?” Iolana asked Kye directly.
Drake watched as she faced his mother once more. “Yes,” Kye said coolly. “I have not forgiven you as they have, not yet, but I will use you.”
His mother smiled, and it was clearly in approval.
“You have chosen well. She is worthy of you, and of Ziem.”
No, he thought. She is worthy of much more.