Echoes (22 page)

Zusia and Phillip sat in the shadow of the city wall. Zusia was gluing new flights on Breken arrows, while Phillip sifted through the pile beside him, picking out the ones that weren’t too badly damaged.

“You heard she’s here?” Phillip asked without looking up from what he was doing.

“I heard,” Zusia said.

“I won’t let her get you, you know that, right?”

Zusia held the arrow up so she could look down its length to ensure it wasn’t bent or warped. An arrow was useless if it wouldn’t fly true. She heard what Phillip had asked her, but her only response was a quick glance in his direction before resuming her task.

“I will always take care of you, Zuzu.”

“I won’t go back,” she said, and reached for another arrow from the pile Phillip had deemed worth saving.

“I know. I’m not going back either.”

This time Zusia stopped what she was doing and looked at Phillip. “If they capture the city, I’m not going to surrender. They’ll be looking for slaves, especially women and children, because they’re easier to manage than men. I’ll fight until they kill me.” Her voice was determined and resigned at once.

“And if they won’t kill you?” he asked her.

Zusia reached under her tunic and withdrew a tiny, capped vial that hung around her neck on a thin chain. “I’m
not
going back.”

“Do you have any more of that?” Phillip asked her.

“Yes,” she answered slowly.

“Well? Are you going to give me some, or what? I have as much reason as you not to go back to that place, and if you’re dead, that’s all the more reason.”

“What about Dearra? Would you want to die if she still lived?” Zusia watched him carefully. She knew how Phillip felt about Dearra. In his mind, she was something of a mix between sister, mother, and god. He wasn’t stupid, and he had started to take notice that she wasn’t quite as perfect as he used to think, but somehow, Zusia thought he loved her all the more for her flaws.

Phillip considered her question for quite a while. He adored his sister. They were family. Phillip thought he would probably do anything for her, but life as a Breken slave and without Zusia? “Dearra is a grown woman, and I am no longer a child. I admit I have some growing up to do yet, but I haven’t been a child in what seems like a very long time. The Breken took my childhood. She will do what is right for her, and I have to do what is right for me. Dearra is my family, Zusia, but you’re my future, and without you…” Phillip shrugged.

“I guess we’re awful young to be making decisions like this, but it ain’t…
isn’t
any good pretending like we’re still kids. The adults have their own worries. We have to make our own plans.”

Phillip smiled at the way Zuzu corrected her language. She had been working so hard at it, even here, in the middle of everything. She put in as many hours as anyone working around the capital. She made or repaired weapons, mended walls, taught the other children how to shoot a bow, ran errands, cooked and cleaned, and in addition to all that, she studied every night.

“So, you’ll give me some of that poison?”

“It’s under your bed, tucked between the frame and the mattress,” she said nonchalantly. “Now that you know about it, you should wear it around your neck, as I do.”

“Thanks, Zuzu.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“None of that! Just cuz…
because
I’m going to marry you, if we ever manage to live long enough, doesn’t mean I’m going to let you take liberties.”

She sounded like her normal Breken self, but Phillip saw the blush of pleasure that tinged her cheeks. “Yes, ma’am!” he said, nodding.

Dearra lay on top of the covers and stared out the window of her chamber. When Darius had been ill, she had slept in a chair beside the bed. She didn’t want to disturb him, and there were so many people in and out of the room that it wouldn’t have been appropriate for her to sleep beside him, but now that he was recovering, they had more privacy. 

Shanks was relieved of guard duty. The king relented after the way Darius had sacrificed himself to save the queen. Once they were left to themselves, and Darius was no longer in danger, Dearra saw no reason to maintain her vigil in the uncomfortable chair. As far as she was concerned, Darius was her husband. They weren’t joined, and they couldn’t be
together
in that way, but that was irrelevant.

The wind rattled the glass in its pane, and she could see clouds skittering across the night sky. The moon was full up and provided quite a bit of light, except when the clouds flitted across it for a moment. They were high, wispy clouds, but there was definitely rain in them. Well, maybe not these, but in the ones to come. She could smell it in the air. Dearra was glad of the coming rain. It would, at least, put an end to the problem of getting fresh water. The weather had been warming steadily, which was a welcome change after the cold, dry winter.

Her eyes were just starting to drift shut when a scratching noise came from the window.

Brin hissed.
Dibbuc!

“Who?” she asked. She sat upright.

It’s Dibbuc. Do you remember the story I told you about the creature that came to me that time in the cave? Tolah told me to run, and I did. I haven’t seen it since, but now, here it is. Don’t let it in, Dearra!

“Sssweet, Dearrra. Come, come…let Dibbuc in.”

Dearra looked over her shoulder. Darius continued to sleep. He had greatly improved over the last couple of weeks, but he still tired so easily.

She carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying not to jostle him as she moved, and took a hesitant step towards the window.

Please, Dearra. It’s evil. Tolah wouldn’t have made me run if it weren’t dangerous.

She picked Brin up and held him at the ready. “I want to know what it has to say, Brin. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“Yesss, yesss, come and talk. Dibbuc isss yourrr frrriend.”

Dearra opened the window and took a quick step back as the little creature hopped into the room. It tipped its head from side to side and looked at her keenly.

“What do you want? Who sent you?” she asked.

“Ah, Dibbuc wasss sssent by herrr. She isss the missstrrresss and Dibbuc goesss wherrre he is told. Dibbuc hasss a messsage for the grrreat Lady of Maj. You cannot win thisss warrr, but give the lady the sssworrrd, and she will sssave you and yourrr people. She will sssend the Brrreken away! Sssafe. You will all be sssafe.”

“Brin? She wants Brin?”

“Yesss, yesss, give it to herrr. It issss much trrrouble to you. My lady will make the Brrreken go, then all will be well.”

“Why? Why does she want the sword?”

Dearra?
Brin squeaked.

Just gathering information, Brin, for Cyrus’s sake. What’s the matter with you? How could you think, even for a moment, that I would hand you over to anyone?

“Isss old ssstorrry, ancient ssstorrry. Dibbuc’sss Missstrrresss needsss it. Mussst have it. If you refussse, it will be verrry bad forrr all of you.”

Dibbuc looked at Dearra, and she almost felt as though she couldn’t look away. His head began to sway from side to side and she began to move with him.

“Sssweet Dearrra. You isss young. Why die forrr thisss when the missstrrresss can sssave you?”

Dearra’s eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look.

Dearra? Dearra, what’s wrong?
Brin was panicked. He couldn’t hear her thoughts. She was staring vacantly at the creature before her, but there was no indication that she’d heard Brin at all.

“Sssso tirrred, you arre. Put down the burrrden. The sssworrrd isss too heavy forrr you. Lay it assside, and I will carrry it forrr you.”

Dearra’s arm drifted lower until the tip of the blade touched the floor, but then her grip tightened on the hilt with an involuntary spasm.

“No, do not fight. Ssso easssy it isss. All you need do isss let go. Heavierrr, and heavierrr the blade grrrowsss.” Dibbuc continued to sway rhythmically, never breaking eye contact with Dearra.

Dearra’s eyes were glassed over, and she was nodding as he spoke. Her grip loosened.

Dearra! Dearra! Wake up! You must wake up! 

“She cannot hearrr you, drrragon. You will sssoon be with the missstrrressss and you will pay forrr the sinsss of yourrr motherrr.”

Dearra’s fingers let go, one at a time, and the sword clattered to the floor. Dibbuc wore a look of pure joy and exultation. He broke his eye contact with Dearra, who blinked rapidly and shook her head to clear her thoughts. Dibbuc was already clamping his claws around the blade. Brin was glowing red-hot, but the creature didn’t seem to notice or mind, and his wings were lifting him into the air with his prize.

Dearra! Please!
Brin screamed out.

“Brin?” Dearra’s thoughts were still muddled.

Dibbuc rose higher and neared the open window. The flash of a blade as it whistled toward him was all the warning he received before it struck him.

Brin fell to the floor once more, this time at Darius’s feet.

Dibbuc turned on the Breken who had hit him and hissed menacingly before escaping out the open window.

Thank Tolah! Darius, you saved me. Thank you!

“Dearra! Are you all right?” Darius stepped towards her, and she caught him as he stumbled. She wasn’t able to hold him, but she did keep him from crashing to the floor. The two of them settled to the stone, and he took her in his arms.

“What happened?” Dearra asked.

“I’m not sure. I was sleeping, and then I heard Brin screaming. When I woke up, you looked like you were in some kind of trance. I saw the creature grab ahold of Brin and I reacted. I felt the sword make contact, so I know I hit it, but I didn’t even wound it. There was no blood that I could see. What
was
that thing?” Darius pulled the window shut and secured the latch.

That was Dibbuc.
Brin spat.
Nasty, vile creature.

“The Dibbuc from your story?” Darius asked, remembering the tale Brin had shared with them.

The very same.

“What was it doing here?”

I have no idea, but it frightens me. Based on all that talk about its mistress, I would guess it’s in league with the White Witch.

“Do you know what it meant about the sins of your mother?” Dearra asked, after she’d regained her composure.

I have no idea. I never knew my mother, as I’ve told you.

“I’m sorry, Brin. I should have listened to you when you told me not to let it in. I was stupid, and careless, and I put you in danger.”

It’s all right, Dearra. At least now we know what the witch wants. She’s after me. I don’t know why, but…

“Well, she’s not going to get you, Brin, we’ll see to that!” Dearra picked Brin gently up from the floor, put him back into the scabbard, and belted it at her waist.

Did you hear what it said? It said that if you gave me to its mistress, she would see to it that the Breken left. Do you think—

“No, Brin,” Darius said. “It’s a deceiver. You saw what it did to Dearra. We’re not turning you over to that thing on some remote chance that this witch will end the war. Even if we could be assured of her truthfulness, we would never sacrifice you, any more than we would sacrifice Carly, or Daniel, or Phillip.”

Dearra stood up, and she reached a hand down to help Darius get back to his feet.

He grasped her hand to rise, but he tried to steady himself on the bedpost so he didn’t completely pull her of her feet. Once upright, he leaned heavily against the mattress and tried to catch his breath.

“Come on, let’s get you back into bed,” she said, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

Darius steeled himself for a fight. He had made up his mind, and he wasn’t going to let her sway him. “I mean that I’ve been lying in bed long enough. I’m healed. My problem now is that I have no strength left. The reason I’m weak as a kitten is that I haven’t been pushing myself to get strong again.”

Dearra frowned. It may have been true that he needed to get up and about again, but pushing himself too far too fast was likely to do more harm than good. “It’s the middle of the night, can’t this wait until morning?”

Yes, Darius. Dearra’s right. Look at you, you’re hardly able to stand after swinging a sword only once. Besides, you’re not exactly dressed for a nighttime stroll.

Darius examined himself. His feet were bare, as were his legs. He wore only a long shirt that hung mid-thigh, and even that wasn’t completely buttoned. Most of his weight was leaning against the bed, and he had just managed to get his breath back. He could feel his arms shake with the effort it was taking to hold onto the banister. “Well, maybe I
should
lie down again, but tomorrow we’re going for a walk!”

“Agreed!” Dearra said quickly, glad he wasn’t going to argue with her. She pulled the bed clothes back the rest of the way and smoothed the sheets for him. She let him drape an arm over her shoulders so she could support him as he maneuvered himself back under the blankets. After she got him settled, she pulled an extra blanket from the chest at the end of the bed for herself.

“Are you cold?” he asked her.

“A little. Spring is here, but it’s still chilly, and that window was open long enough to let the night air in.”

He pulled the covers down on the side opposite himself and patted the mattress with one hand. “Join me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tipping her head slightly to one side while eyeing the bed. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.” She waited for Brin to say something, but all she heard was the swift thrum of her own heart as it sped up suddenly.

“Dearra, please. I’ll behave.”

“That’s the problem, Darius. I’m…I’m not sure I want you to.” Dearra swallowed hard, and she felt the tell-tale blush on her cheeks.

He was silent for what felt like forever before saying, “I can do that too, if it’s what you really want.”

“But…Brin.” Her voice was only a puff of air, and she was surprised it had even that much force.

“We’ll tell him to close his eyes.” He was trying to be playful, but the words came out in a husky purr.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she said, gaining a little of the force she had been trying for.

“I understand, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wish it were otherwise. Two years is a long time to hold your breath, Dearra, and that’s almost what this feels like. At first, it’s nothing, then, slowly, it becomes uncomfortable, and then, after a while, it’s all you can think about. Last year, when you came to my room,” Darius closed his eyes, and a flash of pain marred his face before he was able to continue, “I wasn’t prepared. I took that breath, and it overpowered me, but I have learned to control it. I know I have!”

He was so vehement in the last statement, Dearra sensed he was reassuring himself as much as her. She saw the longing in his eyes, and she was moved by it. She made her decision, untied her robe, and let it fall to the floor. It was only a bit of cloth. Really, she was still quite covered in the long nightgown she wore, but she almost felt like she had removed her armor, and she was standing before him unprotected. She knew she was being foolish. If he was any danger to her, a flimsy robe wouldn’t have stopped him anyway. She watched his expression. His eyes appeared black in the dim light of her room making him appear very Breken, and a shiver coursed over her whole body. She stepped to the bed, cautiously lifted the nightgown, and climbed into the bed beside him.

She hurriedly pulled the covers to her chin, and glanced sidelong to see his reaction. He looked as nervous as she felt.

“I thought you said you were tired of holding your breath,” she teased when she noticed he had yet to exhale.

His breath came out in a sudden burst, and he chuckled. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Dearra bit on her bottom lip, and she tried to smile back at him, but her nerves prevented her from giving him more than an awkward twitch of her lips.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I was thinking how very Breken you look right now. I don’t usually think of you in that way anymore.”

“I don’t feel very Breken,” he said as he reached for her hand beneath the covers. “As a matter of fact, if my father could see me now, he would probably disown me. In bed, beside the most beautiful woman in all the realms, and no idea of what to do next.” He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, turned on his side, so he could see her better, and waited for her to respond.

“He already disowned you, so that’s a nonissue. Plus, why would you care? Also, I think you know exactly what to do next, but you’re so busy trying to behave that you’re stuck. You don’t trust yourself, do you?” She looked at the ceiling above her. She had to be honest and admit that she wasn’t trusting herself so much at that very moment. Half of her wanted to retreat to the safety of the chair, and the other half…ah, it was the other half that scared her most of all. That part of her had some ideas that were turning her scarlet all the way to her toes.