The Sharpest Blade
Page 69

Or I try to stand. It feels like her weight has doubled since she lay down.
“You’re going to have to help me.”
She nods. I get my arms under her again, lift . . .
And end up sprawled on top of her.
Three more times, I try to get her on her feet. I meet with less and less success. Finally, I sit and lean my back against the boulder, breathing hard and sweating despite the chilly air. It’ll be sunrise soon. If the false-blood hasn’t already ordered his followers to search the foothills, he will soon.
“We’re outside the wall,” I say softly to Lena. “You can fissure.”
Her eyes open briefly. “You can’t.”
“I’ll find someone else to fissure me.”
She shakes her head. It’s a small movement, a barely noticeable side-to-side twitch that I would miss if I weren’t watching her closely.
“I won’t leave you behind, McKenzie.”
“Your life is more important than mine.”
She lifts one shoulder in a tiny shrug. “I’m nothing without the people who support me. You might be my last living shadow-reader, and I need my lord general. He’s obviously still alive.” She pauses to take a few breaths. “Any chance he will be here soon?”
“He’s having trouble getting out of the palace.” I think that’s what’s happening. He was close to the King’s Hall not too long ago. He’s near the western entrance, now, but his frustration is growing. His desperation. He feels how weak I’m becoming.
Lena suddenly stiffens. One finger goes to her lips. Her opposite hand goes to her hip, where her sword would be if she had one. I hear voices a second later. Slowly, silently, I peek over the boulder again.
And duck back down after the briefest glance. Elari. At least six of them.
“—will search every crevice. They still live. You will find them. The Taelith wishes it.”
The speaker’s voice is deep but monotone, and it’s coming nearer.
I get my feet under me, ready to do . . . something. I have no weapon. I can’t flee with Lena over my shoulder. I’m not even sure if I have enough strength to shove her back into the almost invisible crevice we emerged from.
“We have all the exits covered. They couldn’t have escaped—”
“They did,” the fae in charge cuts off the other elari. “And they must be recaptured today. They’re here. They’re nearby.”
They’re right under your goddamned feet.
I wipe a bead of sweat out of my eyes. I’m going to have to try to get Lena back into the tunnel. It’s hard to see the entrance, and I think it might even be hidden by illusion. The only hope we have is for the elari to overlook us.
“I’ll send more followers to help you search.”
I risk one last look over the boulder, praying the elari aren’t moving their search this way.
They’re facing away from me, but I can almost make out one of their profiles, the leader’s, I think.
He turns another fraction of an inch.
I duck behind the boulder. It’s Nimael, the false-blood’s second-in-command and the fae who escaped us in Tholm. He’s going to fissure out.
He’s going to fissure out, and I’m close enough to read his shadows.
I bite my lower lip, staring at Lena. She manages to raise one eyebrow.
I shake my head, putting my finger to my lips as I move toward her and take the draw-stringed pouch that’s tied to her belt. Quietly, I dump out the anchor-stones and spread open the cloth. It’ll work for paper. I just need something to write with.
The crevice we climbed out of is covered with a thick, dark layer of dirt and dried mud. I drag my fingers through it, then, just as my skin tingles to tell me a fissure has been opened, I turn back toward the elari.
Nimael is gone. His shadows twist in front of me. The other elari are turned away, moving their search westward, so I give in to the itch to draw them. They’re familiar, but they’re foreign. I drag my pointer finger across the material in front of me, leaving a dark streak behind. When I run out of dirt, I switch fingers and draw mountains to the north, to the south.
Mountains everywhere. It’s the same place, the same damn place Nimael fissured to when he was in Tholm, and once again, I can’t name the location. It’s in the Realm, though. Why the hell can’t I name it?
Then, just before the shadows vanish, they twist one last time. I stare, not trusting what I think I see.
“McKenzie?” Lena asks again.
I slide back down the boulder and place my makeshift map on the ground between us.
“I think it’s the other side of the Jythkrila Mountains.”
As soon as I say Jythkrila, Lena’s eyes widen. I was right. The magic worked. She could fissure after Nimael now, probably right on top of him. I haven’t lost my ability to read the shadows.
“There’s nothing beyond the mountains,” she says, but doubt fills her voice.
Folding the map up carefully, I tuck it into my back pocket, then get my feet underneath me. I’m about to reach for Lena so I can get her up to the crevice and the tunnel where she can hide, but loose pebbles skitter down the rock behind me.
I look up. An elari is standing on my boulder. His gaze is focused upward on the mountain, but all he has to do is look down. We’re screwed.
We’re screwed unless . . .
I look at Lena. She can’t run. I can’t carry her.
Fissure, I mouth.
Her eyes are locked on me. She shakes her head a fraction. No.
Yes! I order. I grab the first anchor-stone my fingers touch out of the pile at my feet then edge closer to her, holding it out in my hand, palm up.
She stares at it, then finally, she seems to understand what I’m planning. Again, she shakes her head. She doesn’t think I’ll survive fissuring without a gate. I don’t think I’ll survive remaining behind, and I’d rather die in the In-Between than die at the hands of the false-blood.
She meets my eyes and mouths, Kyol.
That’s low, using him against me. I know the consequences of my actions. The thing is, I think I might survive this.
A sound of alarm behind me signals the end of our time.
“Now!” I yell, grabbing her hand.
She curses.
The elari leaps off the boulder as Lena opens her fissure. I charge into it, using my momentum and my last ounce of strength to pull her up and into it after me.
I’m eclipsed in white light and ice and . . . pain.
So much pain.
Oh, God. I was wrong.
TWENTY-SEVEN
THUMP . . . THUMP . . . TH-THUMP.
It takes a millennium to recognize the sound as my heartbeat. I’m alive, but I feel like hell. So weak, and my skin feels like it’s been frostbitten by the In-Between. I want to roll to my side and empty my stomach, but I don’t have the strength to do that. I don’t even have the strength to open my eyes.
How many times can a person almost die? If there’s a limit, I’m pretty sure I’ve hit it. The In-Between completely kicked my butt.
My heart beats a little faster. The In-Between. I freaking survived it. I can travel without using a gate.
Not that I want a repeat experience anytime soon. Every muscle in my body hurts, and my head throbs. Then, oddly, it bobs. I force my eyes open and see the sole of a shoe. Or rather, a fae boot if I’m not mistaken. The shoe nudges my forehead again.