The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price (34 page)

I could hear his angry, rasping breath. I expected more ridicule or another round of threats. Instead, Jem let out a roar and moved to strike me. He was a little slow.

Catching his jab with my left hand, I went for his mask with my right. I started to rip it off when he reached up and closed his free hand around my wrist.

“I said not yet.” Jem tightened his grip. Steadily, he increased the pressure and pain penetrated deep into my arm. Blood stopped flowing to my fingers and I couldn’t feel them.

Magic was enhancing his strength. I had no choice. I let go of the mask.

But Jem didn’t let go of me. “You will learn obedience,” he promised, squeezing harder. I felt things compressing. Bending. Breaking. “One way or another, you will learn.”

Releasing his fist from my left hand, I clipped Jem hard across the jaw. I tried to pry his gloved fingers off, but he clamped down with such tremendous, crushing force that the bones in my wrist snapped like kindling.

At the sound, Jem smiled. When I didn’t cry out though, he looked impressed. “To withstand such pain in silence is commendable. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

I responded with a gasping laugh. Had I breath to spare, I would have set him straight. Bone had penetrated skin and I would have been screaming, if not for the Crown of Stones overriding the pain.

Like many things lately, I couldn’t explain it. But at the point where our skin made contact outward, I was aware of the power in Jem’s veins. I felt the place where he channeled from, a deep well, dark and cavernous. I recognized the auras that filled it as they swirled and pulsed in vibrant color. The heat of his wrath and his intense, cold determination; I could sense how it blinded him. And I knew that somewhere inside the man, he was conflicted.

“Leave!” he shouted, but I didn’t even know how I got in. Then Jem whispered in Shinree and everything inside of me came to a standstill. My heart constricted. My lungs emptied. Muscles turned flaccid and organs seized. Pain severed our odd link.

It was only Jem’s unwavering hold that kept me upright.

Shoving his other hand in my hair, he pushed my head back, wanting my eyes. “I hadn’t thought to find you so disagreeable, so contrary. You are going to force me to break you. I really didn’t want that.” Jem sighed and released me—my broken wrist from his hand, my body from his spell.

I cried out then; I’d just traded one agony for another.

Able to feel now what he’d done to my wrist, I started shivering badly. Blood was dripping from beneath the brace on my arm, running down over my hand faster than the rain could wash it away.

Clinging to my rage, I fought to stay standing. “I won’t let you keep the crown.”

“You will never get near the Crown of Stones.”

“I don’t need to get near it,” I blustered. “Not anymore.”

“You are developing faster than I expected. I admit that. But by the time you realize what’s happening, it will be too late.”

Trembling so hard now that I could barely speak, I stammered out an unimpressive, “G-go f-f-fuck yourself.”

“I see my mistake. You’ve spent the last ten years building up a tolerance to temptation. What I need is a concentrated attack to break through your armor.” Jem reached out and put a finger on my forehead. “Let’s see what a couple years’ worth of dreams will do to soften your resolve.”

“No...” I tried to move, but his slightest touch held me in place.

He started whispering again. The forest began to change. The trees blurred. Ghostly images of armed soldiers flickered in and out of view.

I threw a desperate glance at Jarryd and Malaq sleeping in the shelter, hoping the sight of them would somehow keep me here. But their bodies were already fading.

Air whipped around me bitter and cold. Snow pelted my face.

I shook the images away. “Don’t do this.”

Jem stopped chanting and looked at me. “Are you ready to give me the stone? Will you help me create an empire like the world has never seen?”

She stood at the edge of the frozen pond.

Wearing nothing but a warm, woolen cloak, she beckoned me.

I struggled to focus on him. “I will never let you have that much power.”

Behind the mask, his eyes tightened. “Then I bid you sweet dreams.”

THIRTY TWO

V
oices pulled at me.

“Ian, wake up.”

I wanted to open my eyes. But her body was curling up, pressing against mine.

“God damn it, Ian.” Nervousness strained Malaq’s voice. “I know you can hear me. Wake up!” Anger too. He threw a punch at my face and, distantly, I felt it.

He grabbed me to throw another.

“Malaq, stop,” Jarryd intervened. “It’s no good. And…he’s hurt enough.” Jarryd touched my right arm and pain had me nearly coming up off the ground—more than enough to wake me. But it didn’t. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

“We keep moving.”

“He needs a healer,” Jarryd argued.

“I know. I’ll figure something out.”

“We can’t travel with him like this.”

Malaq was quiet a moment. His boot kicked my leg. “Why the fuck won’t he wake up?”

I’m trying…

“Where are you going?” Her hand caressed my face. “I’m right here.”

Screaming, I tried to throw them off, to tell them to stop, that I could feel everything. But the words wouldn’t come. Nothing responded like I wanted, my voice, my body.

All I could see was blackness.

The sun burst out from behind the clouds, so bright I had to shade my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Her slender, dark fingers entwined mine. “I thought you wanted to go for a walk.”

“I do,” I said. “I’m fine.”

“This way.” She tugged at me. As we strolled, blossoms kicked up from the meadow. They took to the breeze, floating on the air, turning it pink. I waved them away, but she let them fall as they pleased; a burst of color settling on the pleats of her drab, muslin skirt, a subtle trimming clinging to the gently swaying strands of her long, black hair.

Glancing at me, she smoothed a curl behind her ear. “Tell me again.”

“Again?” Laughing, I shook my head. “No way.”

“Come on” she begged, wrapping her arms about my waist. “It’s funny.”

“It’s not funny,” I insisted. “It’s humiliating.”

“Right,” she grinned devilishly. “Which makes it funny.”

I tensed at a sound. “Did you hear that?”

“You’re just stalling,” she said.

“No, there was an echo, like someone yelling.”

“You’re going to kill him!” Jarryd shouted.

“I’m not going to kill him,” another man replied tartly. “But you need to secure him better. I can’t have him thrashing about right now.”

His voice…

Langorian,
I thought. I struggled harder.

Weight pressed down on me.

Quietly, Jarryd said, “It’ll be over soon. Just hang on.”

She pulled at my arm. “Please? It’s a great story. Just one more time?” Nuzzling against me, she smiled coyly and batted her eyes.

“You’re shameless, you know that?” She batted more and I relented with a sigh. “I didn’t know he was a woman.”

“You really couldn’t tell?”

“With the hair on her chin?” I shuddered. “No, I couldn’t tell.”

“And when her money was gone, and she started betting with pieces of her clothing?”

“Her armor was solid steel.”

“So you thought you’d sell it,” she nodded.

“Dice was never my game, but it was the first time I’d been given leave and I’d heard some of the troops talking about this seamy little inn near the border. I spent my whole three days in that goddamn, filthy place. I’d gone through my coin and then some. The barkeep was eyeing me to pay up. A few of the men were egging me on. Course they’d been there dozens of times. They knew what I was headed for.”

“Back off, Rellan,” the Langorian barked. “I may not think he’s worth the shit stain on my ass, but you brought me here to fix him. So I am.”

“If you don’t, you’re dead.” Jarryd warned.

The Langorian grunted. “And when Krillos discovers you stole the only physician in his camp, so are you. Then we’ll break your broken witch a little more and lay him at Draken’s feet.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Jarryd snarled. Steel sung as it left its sheath.

“Kane,” Malaq said sharply. “Put Troy’s sword away.”

“This is a waste of time, Malaq. He’s not going to help us.”

“He will,” Malaq said. “He has to.”

“Why, because Prince Malaq Roarke abducted him out of bed, dragged him through the woods, and commanded him to? He’s going to slit Ian’s throat the minute we turn our backs.”

“Then I won’t turn my back.” Malaq’s tone tempered. “Why don’t you get started on the litter? I’ll stay here and keep an eye on our guest.”

Walking again, she dragged me with her. “So when did you figure it out?”

“By the time we’d both lost our shirts I had a pretty good idea that those weren’t muscles on her chest. Then she started insisting I take her upstairs. Said I could earn my coin back.”

“Did you?” she laughed.

I made a face. “She was all over me, chasing me around the room, goods flapping, while the whole damn tavern laughed. I barely made it out alive.”

“Stop,” she giggled.

“Seriously. I had visions of suffocating under those things for days.”

“I’m glad you survived.” Her laughter waned. Desire shone in her eyes.

“Me too.” Bending, I kissed her. My fingers on her face, I ran them through her curls, over her arms and across her back.

With a gasp, she flinched. Warm, wetness spread beneath my hands.

She went limp against me as Draken yanked the blade out of her back.

He smiled. “Shall we play?”

“Ian…” Jarryd said nervously. “What the…? Ian—Stop!”

He tackled me and we grappled for the knife. It skimmed my chest as we rolled.

“Fight harder, Shinree,” the Langorian sneered. “Put on a good show and maybe Draken will let her die quickly.”

I swung my head into his. He recoiled enough for me to get both hands on his arm. Twisting it, I forced the knife closer to his body. I took hold of it.

I felt the blade penetrate flesh.

“Son of a bitch!” Jarryd bellowed.

Shoved, I fell. My face hit the ground. Hooves stomped near my head.

They moved away, replaced by boots.

“What happened?” Malaq said.

“Fuck,” Jarryd muttered shakily. “He fucking stabbed me.”

“What? Where the hell did he get the knife?”

“It was in my belt. I didn’t think… Fuck!”

“Let me see it.” Malaq whistled. “I guess taking him on your horse wasn’t such a good idea. We should have stuck with the litter.”

“That last section of trail was too narrow. It wouldn’t have fit.”

“The blade’s in pretty good,” Malaq said plainly. “Ready?”

I heard Jarryd take a deep, uneven breath. He bit back a long, clamped-mouthed groan as the knife came out. “Goddamn it,” he panted. “What the hell is wrong with him, Malaq?”

“I don’t know. Once we get to Rella we’ll find a healer.”

“Where? And what good will it do?” Pain roughened Jarryd’s voice. “This isn’t simple delirium. It’s been too many days. There’s no infection. No fever. This has to be a spell. Some kind of attack.”

“Draken’s magic user,” Malaq agreed. “I told Ian he was going to come after him hard. But I didn’t expect this.”

Jarryd sounded weary. “What do we do?”

Break it,
I thought.
You have to break the spell.

I tried to tell him.
Sienn. Find Sienn.
But the words were stuck in my head.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Malaq said grimly.

Gods, why can’t I wake up?

“What are you doing out of bed?” Her bare feet padded across the floor. She came up behind me and snuggled into my back. “It’s cold without you.”