Burning Alive
Page 38

“It’s something the Athanasians did for their newborn children to protect them—to allow them to hide in plain sight among humans. Whatever magic they used to mask the scent within the blood became a genetic trait that was passed down through the generations.”
“So I inherited this survival mechanism and my ancestry was hidden. Until I met you,” she guessed.
“Yes.” It was a guilty whisper of sound.
“Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means.”
“I wish I could. I’m sorry.” He reached for her but she jerked away.
“Don’t touch me. Tell me exactly what you’ve done to me.”
He let his hand fall. “For the rest of your life, the Synestryn will hunt you for your blood. They will know what you are on sight and they will try to kill you. Or worse. You’ll never again be able to hide in plain sight like you have been doing all your life.”
Oh yeah. That was definitely what she was hoping he wouldn’t say. “You turned on my ‘all you can eat’ sign?”
Drake nodded grimly. “And that’s not all.”
Helen’s stomach clenched at the thought of more bad news. “I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but you need to.”
Helen closed her eyes, bracing herself.
“For all intents and purposes, I’ve enlisted you in our war. You will be forced to go into battle beside me and fight the Synestryn.”
“Who want to eat me.”
“Yes.”
She’d never heard his voice so full of self-loathing. At least he had that much of a conscience left. “You can’t force me to fight.”
“I won’t have to. The Synestryn will do that with or without your cooperation. If nothing else, you’ll have to fight back to stay alive.”
Helen suddenly felt caged. Trapped. Everything about her old life was gone. She’d no longer be able to see her friends for fear of drawing those monsters to them. Hell, she’d no longer be able to be around people, period. Anyone she was near would be at risk. Drake had stolen her life from her and given her a new one she wanted nothing to do with. She didn’t want to spend what was left of her life fighting. She wanted peace and the comfort of friends and neighbors filling the days she had left.
“How could you?” she demanded in a voice that trembled with anger. “How could you take away my choices like that?”
“I was desperate.”
“That’s no excuse to ruin the rest of my life, short as it may be.”
“Stop talking like that. I won’t let you die.”
“You won’t be able to stop it. You’re there, remember? You watch me burn to death.”
“I would never do that.”
“I had almost started to believe you, but then you tell me all this. You’ve already put me in danger, why should I believe you wouldn’t let me die?”
“Because of my oath. I’m bound to protect you.”
“By taking away my natural protection? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’re Theronai. One of us. It’s your duty to fight as it is mine.”
Helen threw up her hands in defeat. She wasn’t going to understand his convoluted thinking and she wasn’t going to waste time trying. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
“So many things. It will take you years to learn.”
Helen didn’t have years. She could feel it in her heart. Her vision was coming to pass soon. “Is there anything you haven’t told me that directly affects me and my immediate future?”
He paused as if he was going to say something and then changed his mind. “I’m sorry, Helen. I should have taken more time to explain everything before I bound you, but I was in so much pain and you made it go away. After decades of agony, you made me feel good. I couldn’t let you go.”
What must that have been like for him? How desperate would that kind of agony make him? She’d felt only a fraction of his power when she’d put a shield around the sludge monster and she thought the pressure would kill her. He’d been living with much more than that for longer than she’d been alive. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what that was like.
Drake looked away from her. She could see his frustration in the tense lines of his body—hear the way his voice shook with regret. “I can’t change what I did, but give me a chance to help you understand why I did it.”
“I understand perfectly. Even my vision makes sense now. You say you’d never watch me die, but the truth is that when you put this thing around my neck, you signed my death warrant yourself. I’m already dead. It’s just a matter of which monster will get to me first.”
“It’s not like that. My job is to keep you safe.”
“Like you kept Thomas safe?” She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth, even before she felt the slamming pain that drove into him at her snide remark.
His voice was brittle and cold. “You’re right. I should have saved Thomas, but there was only one way I could have done that. I would have had to be closer to the kajmela than he was so I got killed in his stead. Neither one of us would let you die, Helen. It’s time you see why.”
He took her by the wrist and led her out of his suite down the hall. She thought about trying to resist him, but it wasn’t a battle she could win. Let him show her what he wanted. It wouldn’t matter in the end. “There’s nothing you can show me that will change my mind,” she said.
They passed half a dozen rooms before they came to an intersection. Drake went straight and she followed in his wake, unable to pull away from his firm grip. “Fine. If you want to keep a tight hold on your righteous anger, be my guest, but it’s my duty to show you why we need you. This isn’t some game.”
“I should have been given a choice whether or not to become part of your world—part of your fight.”
Drake never slowed and Helen refused to throw a fit. She’d look at what he had to show her and then slap him across the face for manhandling her. It wouldn’t change anything, but it might make her feel better.
His voice was low, but she could hear it fine in the quiet hallway. “None of us were given a choice, but you can think that if it helps you sleep at night, because like it or not, you’re a part of this war now and you’re going to need all the help you can get in that department.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
He stopped in front of a pair of massive double doors. Unlike the plain hotel-style doors on the rest of the rooms they’d passed, these were each intricately carved with a tree that looked like the one covering Drake’s chest. There was a subtle power carved into the wood. She could feel it heating the air around them until it shimmered. The urge to run her fingers over the smooth curves of the leaves was almost overwhelming.
When Drake spoke, she had to blink a couple of times before she was able to look away from the carvings.
“No, Helen. I’m not trying to scare you. I’m trying to show you that there are a lot of things in this world that are bigger than what you or I want. I’m sorry I took your freedom to choose this way of life, but none of the rest of us were ever given a choice. We were born into this war. I’ve been fighting for centuries to keep people like you safe and you’re the first bit of hope any of us has found since my mother and most of the female Sentinels were slaughtered. I couldn’t let you go.”
He pushed the doors open and pulled her inside. The room was dimly lit, done in dark, rich tones of burgundy, mahogany, and black. Twin leather chairs sat before an intricately carved stone fireplace, and even though it was summer, a fire burned low behind glass doors.
Helen looked away from the flames before she could panic. She concentrated on the other details in an effort to slow her pounding heart. Her feet sank into the carpet. The air smelled faintly of vanilla. The room was completely silent. Not even the fire dared to crackle and disturb the reverent stillness.
The black walls were lined with swords hanging from delicately wrought silver brackets formed in the shape of intricate vines.
There were lots of swords. Dozens of them. They covered every empty bit of wall available.
“These are the swords of the men who have died fighting the Synestryn,” said Drake. There was no anger in his voice now, only quiet, aching loss and respect. “Each of them gave his life so that someone else could live. None of us can use our magic effectively, and without it, we have only brute strength. It’s not enough—not against an army that grows more powerful every day.”
“This is the Hall of the Fallen,” she said in awe. She’d heard Thomas mention it, but she never imagined anything like this. She’d pictured a few carved gravestones or maybe a bronze plate with the name of each man engraved on it. Not this dark, comfortable room where one could come and be surrounded by the swords of the dead. So many had died and she couldn’t help but wonder how many of them had been people Drake loved.
Drake shook his head sadly. “No. This is a place of remembrance. A place where we can come and sit and remember those who have recently fallen.” He pushed open another pair of doors opposite the ones they’d come in and motioned for her to go in. “This is the Hall of the Fallen.”
Helen stepped inside and the echo of that footstep reverberated in her ears. The room was huge—easily fifty feet across with a glass ceiling that towered thirty feet above them. Like the other room, the walls were black and covered in swords. More hung from fine silver wire suspended from the ceiling. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Some had the unmistakable band of a luceria wound around their hilts, but most did not. Most of these men had died alone.
Helen had to fight to breathe. There were too many swords to count. Too much death to face. All of these men had died fighting to save humans who didn’t even know the Theronai existed.
It was too sad, too overwhelming to try to understand the kind of strength it took to live with this reminder of death always nearby. She didn’t know how Drake and his friends could stand it—how they could go on when there was so little hope.
She felt the heat of Drake’s body at her back and she leaned into his living warmth, needing it. He looped his arms around her waist and she didn’t try to stop him. Her previous anger seemed so petty and inconsequential in the face of what his people had suffered. What they’d lost.
“This is why we need you, why I was willing to bind you to me without giving you the chance to refuse. Part of my motivation was selfish because I wanted you to stop the pain, but I also wanted to give our people hope—a reason to keep going despite the pain and grief that is with us daily. More of us die every year and no more Theronai are being born. All of us have lived with excruciating pain, trying to hold on long enough for some glimmer of hope.” His mouth brushed her hair. “You have to be that hope, Helen. We can’t hold out any longer without you.”
Helen had spent her entire adult life trying to find a way to leave behind some legacy of good. She’d donated most of her inheritance to charities, volunteered her time, spent countless hours just being with people who needed someone to talk to. None of these were big things and she’d always wished she could do more.