Lightning Rider (31 page)

We are statues, taut with the waiting.

“We’ve never been this close before, or with the guarantee of such an uninterrupted stretch of time. This is the smallest group he’s commanded.”

“Why can’t the archer just kill him?”

The look he gives me shuts my mouth. He’s tried that. He’s tried it all. Otherwise he wouldn’t need me. I must stop looking for simple answers. Trust the alteration.

Constantine points to the shadow of a guard standing twenty yards from Viriato’s tent, just inside the perimeter of the camp. He’s looking beyond us, and I follow his gaze but see nothing.

I fight the urge to puke.

A flock of birds screams as it takes flight, the birds’ flapping wings brushing against the skeletal branches of the trees. I look back at the guard, but he hasn’t moved.

Dawn edges along the horizon, and shadows resolve into bodies moving around camp. It has to happen now.

Constantine glances to the men. One makes several hand motions Constantine seems to understand, and we all go still again. Watching. Waiting.

There is no movement in the tent. The guard who paced the outside is gone. They could be killing him right now. My vision tilts.

A strange sound erupts behind us, barely louder than the birds but odd enough to draw my attention.

Constantine grabs me and whispers urgently to his men. “Go.” They disappear over the top of the hill toward Viriato’s camp.

I turn to see, then scramble backward. “No,” I whisper.

Ilif stands next to our horses, his arm wrapped around Penya’s neck, his head whipping back and forth searching. For us. He doesn’t know how close we are.

Constantine drags me behind a tree, and we watch Ilif. “Hold your lightning, but be ready,” he whispers against my ear. 

I fist my hands.

We hear grunts and the strike of metal behind us. Viriato’s men know we’re here now. 

“Evy!” Ilif screams. “I know you’re here! Show yourself and I’ll release Penya.”

Constantine’s fingers are digging into my arm, keeping me hidden.

“Why can’t she escape? Time-travel away?” I whisper.

Constantine peers over my head, silently stretching up over me. Ilif turns in a slow circle around the perimeter of the glen, and the horses step away, the sound masking Constantine’s movements. He drops back behind me and presses his mouth to my ear. “It’s not her.”

“What do you mean? It looks like her.”

“Evy!” Ilif yells again.

I hear a loud thud nearby, and Constantine swears. While he’s searching the forest behind us, I peer around the tree. Constantine is right. It’s not Penya. It’s some sort of image of her. 

Constantine tenses beside me. “That’s how he’s traveling. He’s harnessing her power to change how he travels.” He punches the tree. “Fuck. Do
not
use your lightning. If you do and he disappears, we’ll never find Penya. Understand?”

“No. No, I don’t. Let me take him out.”

“You have no idea how your lightning affects him now. Are you willing to risk that he won’t leave any residue or trace?”

I swallow and grimace. He’s right. If I force Ilif out, it will be my residue that stays behind. We’d lose Penya’s—residue we can use to follow him and save her.

Shapes melt from the shadows. Constantine tenses. It’s our men. He waves them forward, and I glance at Ilif. He walks toward the hill, his back to us.

“We killed two guards at the perimeter but didn’t penetrate camp,” one man whispers. “The attendants are gone. We think they’ve incapacitated Viriato, but something scared them off. They didn’t complete the mission.”

The muscle in Constantine’s jaw bulges. “How long before the camp wakes?”

“Minutes.”

Ilif paces the small glen, keeping his grip on Penya. I could kill him so easily right now. One bolt. Where Constantine failed to change my thinking and make me a killer, Ilif has managed with one event. He’s threatened my family, he’s kidnapped Penya, and he’s come to kill me. Eye for an eye.

Ilif flickers, and Constantine yanks me to him. “Don’t.”

I snuff the trickle of lightning playing between my thumb and index finger. “Then what are we going to do?”

He leans toward his men and utters a few low commands. The men disappear into the few remaining shadows. “They will lure Ilif away from Penya’s image. She can talk to you. Find out where he’s taken her.”

“What about you?”

“I will kill Viriato. Do not leave this glen.” He shakes me gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Do not leave.”

I clench my teeth. “Fine.”

“Wait here until Ilif leaves. Be quick with Penya.”

He stares at me, and I know he has more to say. We both do, but now is not the time. I put my hand on his chest. “Go.”

He glides away, and I stare after his retreating form until I can no longer make out his shape.

In the glen, Ilif releases Penya’s neck. They both flicker once. He paces, disheveled, looking like a fool. As his plan unravels, I worry about his instability.

From deeper into the forest, the obvious mimic of a birdcall draws his attention. He pauses and cocks his head. A slow smile spreads across his face.

What a moron. As if Constantine and his men would be so stupid. Ilif crouches lower and steps to the fringe of the glen, half hidden by Constantine’s sorrel. The horse snorts and steps forward, as if unwilling to be associated with Ilif.

The mimicked birdcall ceases, and Ilif edges toward a small path on the far side of the glen. He steps behind a huge tree and dips his hand into his pants pocket. A metal barrel glints in the weak light.
Shit
. He’s armed. I’ve let Constantine lead his men into a trap they cannot get out of.

If he shoots them, he’ll easily take me out, too. Constantine will come back to a bloodbath.

As long as he wins, right?

We wait. Penya faces me, colorful and crisp as if she’s really standing there. It’s only when I squint that I can see her transparency. The image of her seems to be watching me. I search for Ilif. He’s moving farther up the path.

I rise up on my toes. Penya sweeps her hand downward, like she can see me and she wants me to stay hidden. I take another step forward, and she does it again. I stop, and she nods. 

Trust.

The word reverberates through my head like she just screamed it. I duck back behind the tree.

A dagger flies from the trees and lands at Ilif’s feet. He raises his weapon but doesn’t fire. Instead, he moves quickly into the trees, panicked fury stretching his features as he throws a last look toward Penya’s hologram. Constantine’s men slip through the glen after him, silent and frightening. A pack of wolves.

Penya waves me forward frantically, and I bolt into the middle of the glen and slide to a stop in front of her. “Where are you?”

She shakes her head. “Impossible to tell. It’s not our old lab.”

“Your what?” My eyes bulge. “You . . . you work with him?”

“No time for that now. You must ensure Viriato’s death. You must. Everyone’s future depends on it. And then you must save Aurelia.”

My mouth opens.

“She is ancestor to one of the greatest scientific minds we know.”

“When will I know how to find her?”

“Trust yourself.”

I bite my lip. I trust everyone else—when will I start trusting my own instincts?

“And Evy?” She waits for my full attention. “Ilif knows about Aurelia.”

Of course he does. Couldn’t have things getting easy now.

Shouts echo through the dawn. I scan the woods, but I don’t see anyone. 

“How do I find you?” I ask Penya.

Her eyes appear to tear up. “Do not waste time on me. I am an old woman, and if you succeed tonight, my purpose will be fulfilled. Stop Ilif. Ensure Viriato’s death. Save Aurelia.” She leans closer, and her voice softens. “I never underestimated you. Never doubted your strength to grow into the prophecy.” She grabs for my fingers, but her image slides through them. “You must understand, Ilif will not stop until he has contorted the future. It’s up to you.”

“I can’t. No way. Look how bad I screwed this up. Not just tonight but from the beginning.”

She reaches for me again. “You are strong. You have abilities as a lightning rider I’ve never seen. Ilif has never seen the likes of you either, and it pushes him over the edge. He sees so much potential in you—potential to change the future, the world. Use that against him.”

I check over my shoulder. Our time is running out.

“Tell him I lied to you, tricked you. It’s the only way to find out what he’s up to.”

I rub my forehead. She’s got to be kidding me. “Without you?”

“You can do this. You never needed me. You never needed anyone. Do not let Ilif corrode your strength. He’ll test you. He’ll push you. You’ll want to break.”

Super.

Reassure her, Constantine said.

I swallow. “I will. And we’ll find a way back to you. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.” 

“The same goes for you.” She kisses at my cheek. “Be strong. Trust. Go.”

I back up as the men storm into the glen, Ilif racing in front of them like scared prey. He dives toward Penya, and I roll out of the way. A small dagger spins end over end toward his head. Penya tries to duck, but Ilif scatters her image and they disappear. The point of the dagger impales the soft dirt, dissipating the tiny residue I could have traced them with.

The men surround me, their chests heaving. “Has Constantine returned?”

I lift my face and blink several times. This is unraveling. Ilif has separated us, and I have no idea what’s next or where Constantine is. The wrong history is unfolding.

“Come.” They pull me toward the hill, over it, and straight into Viriato’s camp. 

They move silently, and I do my best to keep my noise to a minimum. I have to shake off the disaster with Penya and focus. Shields, swords, daggers, and a few spears lie amid short grass as we move through the armory. The shadows are long, and the guards are missing. 

I spot a few bodies slumped against a stack of weapons. We appear to be following Constantine’s trail. I wonder if he’s killed everyone who’s heard us. Surely we’ve kicked the beehive with all our commotion. No thanks to Ilif for blowing our stealth attack.

We work our way around the side of the camp, and I search the dawn for the enemy. We’re so far into his camp we’ll never make it out alive. I take it in. Maybe today is my day to die. My breath comes fast. The men slow. We came here to complete a mission, not to get out alive. Penya said we must succeed at all costs. I’m nearly panting now. This isn’t how I wanted it to end—on the fringe of an encampment two thousand years from home. Bile surges up my throat, and I fist my hands.

No
. Constantine has trained me better than this. I slow my breathing, calm my mind. I am a warrior. We are warriors. I can—I
will
face this head-on. Whatever dawn brings. With these men at my side, willing to die with me for a cause they know little about, obeying orders from a man they would follow into hell.

A scream wrenches the night, another startled bird. The camp is silent, the air pregnant with anticipation, like a rotted corpse about to split open. I can barely move through the tension, afraid to be the final pin-drop of noise that explodes the night into a frenzy of battle and death. Constantine’s head rises from behind a small watering trough. He waves us forward.

My knees give way, and the men grab the back of my armor and put me back on my feet. We move as one toward Constantine. When we’re halfway there, he makes sharp cutting motions with his hands, and the men halt and slide behind me. Two more hand motions, and a small nudge in my back sends me stumbling toward him. It takes me three steps before I realize I’m alone. I glance behind me. The men are gone.

Constantine tugs me down in a crouch and makes sharp stabbing motions with his fingers. We’re ten feet from Viriato’s tent and the flaps are still closed. Nothing fills the space between our hiding spot and the back entrance. There’s nowhere to hide, nothing to conceal any movement beyond where we are.

He makes no attempt to ask me what happened with Ilif. He’s focused only on this section of the task. I’d give anything to be able to sectionalize my brain right now. Worry for Penya strains my attention.

Clouds of breath puff so fast from my mouth I look like a tailpipe, but I can’t get a handle on my breathing. The sound of my heart is thunderous. We’re only moments away from being noticed, captured, and killed.

His fingers clasp my chin, and he forces me to look at him, to watch his movements. His touch calms me, seals me together before I collapse into tiny pieces. He points to his chest, then to mine, before he puts his fingers together and makes a sweeping motion toward the tent.

What?

He scowls and makes the motion again. Plus one like he’s holding a ball.

Of lightning.

He wants me to arc him.

He should know better. This is a terrible plan. I’ll overshoot us or get us there next Tuesday. I can’t move us there like he wants me to, with no time lapse.

A murmur of voices floats over the silence. Goats bleat welcoming invitations to everyone wandering past their pen. Viriato will not sleep much longer. We’re out of time.

Constantine’s fingers are firm on my shoulders. He’s right. We don’t have any other options. If we run or sneak, we’ll be spotted and killed. No questions, no hesitation.

I nod. What do we have to lose?

Only our entire futures.

I clench my jaw and fight the surge of emotion.

This is it, the last thing we will do together. 

He clamps my hand in his, and I take a deep breath. No mistakes this time. My lightning sparks, then fizzles.

He jerks his gaze to mine, questioning.

I try again. A ball flares, and he glances over his shoulder.

Emotion overwhelms me, and I force myself to concentrate.

A horde of Viriato’s men burst from shadows. They haven’t been sleeping. They’ve been stalking us.

Men race toward us, weapons swinging in attack. One slices a sword and just misses Constantine’s chest. I whip my lightning between the sword and his skin.