The Twisting (26 page)

She looked between them, one side of her mouth quirking into a smile. “Neither of you looks like you need help.” She heaved a sigh and jabbed a finger forward. “Take it outside, Jac says. You’ve woken everyone, and if you don’t get the hell out of here, she’s going to come
kick
you out. Or your asses. We’ll be crap for tonight if this keeps up.”

She spun around and stomped off. They listened while she pounded up her stairs.

Daeryn held up his hands. “Can I start over and explain?”

Rivley jerked his chin to his shoulder. “Kind of hard to do that.”

His hackles prickled up at Riv’s tone. “Just listen, would you? Annmar left to confront Shearing.” Daeryn repeated the little he knew, including Miz Gere’s investigation into Shearing possibly swaying other Basin farmers. When he’d finished, Rivley’s frown had grown deeper.

“Er, right,” Rivley said. “So, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone this, but that Mr. Shearing isn’t a stranger to Annmar. He was a client she’d done drawings for. He has a scarred hand, and she thinks he’s the one who hired the ropens to kidnap her. Apparently, he wanted her to return badly enough to try it himself.”

She…no!
Daeryn turned to the wall, balled up his fist and…stopped. He needed to be able to run. “Damn.” He leaned his forehead to the cool surface and pinched his eyes closed. “That’s what Mary Frances overheard. Annmar is going to try to punish him—
and hell
”—he straightened and pivoted—“Shearing approached her right before Miz Gere let Annmar go.”

“What?”

“The lady told me she has no money to pay Annmar. With no job at Wellspring, could she have returned to ask this Shearing fellow for a job…of some sort? That makes no sense. She wouldn’t try to punish a prospective employer.”

A staccato of clicking burst from Rivley. “Annmar as much as said she hates the man.” He picked up his trousers and headed for the bathing room. “Be with you in a minute.” The door slammed shut behind him.

Daeryn finished dressing by the time Rivley returned and sat on his disheveled bed to shove his feet into his boots. His gaze fell on Rivley’s bitten shoulder. “I don’t know if ending this gildan requires working as pack, but I won’t make you keep my mark.”

Rivley stood, batting away the suggestion. “Maraquin saw it. Jac already knows. You follow through, or I’ll be forced to mark you.”

That would not happen. Once again, they locked stares.

This time Rivley stepped back and broke eye contact. “By the Creator, Dae, what’s with you?”

“I’m scared for her.” He tipped his head and stared at the ceiling. “I finally meet a girl I like, and she falls prey to a scheming arse. I will do whatever it takes to see her free of him, including following her Outside.” Daeryn lowered his gaze to meet Rivley’s. “Sorry, I didn’t do this right. I’m one step from trouble every move I make these days, and I don’t know why. What I do know is I don’t want to fight you. In or out of a pack.”

After a moment, Rivley nodded. “We’ll find Annmar.”

Daeryn’s inner urges quieted. Why he was out of sorts or had these strong urges now was still a mystery, but they must be on the right path. He grasped Rivley’s hand and shook it. “We need one more person for this to work.” And Daeryn damned well better stay human to make the arrangements. He reached for the doorknob.

“Derby sounds like a big place. You sure are putting a lot of hope in finding her.”

Daeryn’s hand froze in mid-turn. “I have to trust in hope. Otherwise, what else do I have?”

Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

Daeryn slanted his
gaze toward Rivley in the dim corridor along the nocturnal guards’ rooms. They needed Terrent. The fox boy knew how to get through Forestridge’s Borderlands without using the Gap Gateway. They had no Proofs, nor time to apply for them, making it the only way Outside. Yet if the passages were as dark and confined as a tunnel, Rivley would never manage it. Daeryn would solve that when they arrived. First, he had to acquire Jac’s agreement to borrow Terrent from guard duty.

He’d messed up with Rivley, but might be forgiven. With Jac, he wouldn’t be. The wolf would kill him if he just left, taking away another ’cambire predator. His chest tightened. Would Jac hear him out and agree to his request like their collaboration yesterday? Or would she fall back to her old snappish habits? Like he had.

Honestly work together to restore yourselves and your pack.

Pacing slowly on, Daeryn formed up his opening line while clenching and unclenching his fists. Not forceful. That had been a mistake with Rivley. Desperate might work. Jac would believe him to be in her debt, which would be true.

Too quickly, they arrived at the wolf girls’ door. Both of them. Daeryn looked fully at Riv. “Thought you’d never been to their room.”

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t invited,” he muttered, and after a pause added, “Besides, same as with Annmar’s room, apparently if one of us can get in, the other can, too. This gildan’s binding has a greater power than we realized.”

Hang it all. So what did that mean for breaking it? Daeryn steeled himself. He knocked firmly, but not too loudly.

Behind the door, a snapped, “What?” cut the silence like a gunshot.

He knocked again.

A growl preceded Jac threatening, “This better be urgent.”

The floorboards creaked, then stomping footsteps prompted Daeryn to beat out a mental reminder:
I need her help. I will stay human.

The door opened, and Jac stood before him, her face slack and bearing dark smudges beneath dull eyes. “Why,” she hissed in a voice so low he had to strain to hear it, “are you interrupting my sleep? Again.”

He blinked. Jac hadn’t cursed, yelled or lashed out. Damn it all, if the wolf wasn’t leaps ahead of him in self-control. “Uh, thank you for answering. I need some help.”

Jac’s brow flew up.

Daeryn explained the trip—skipping Miz Gere’s suspicions—then said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d cover for me while Terrent accompanies Rivley and me through that alternate passage.” Jac didn’t respond, so he added, “If not for me, then to repay your debt to Annmar.”

“So what if I owe her?” Jac said. “Miz Gere said for you to go, not take our best shooter.”

Daeryn fisted his hands. Jac flicked her gaze to them. Figured she wouldn’t miss that, even in this state, yet he couldn’t release them now. “Would you just cut the crap and help me? Consider it an extension of working as a team.”

Jac’s eyes narrowed. “Some of us will not be working if others of us don’t get her sleep.” She started to close the door.

Daeryn thrust out his hand and slammed it open. Quick as he was, Jac jumped aside, letting the door bang the wall. Her expression tightened, but so did his as he stepped over the threshold.

Behind him, Rivley cleared his throat.

Damn, he’d irritated both of them. “I’m sorry about your sleep,” Daeryn said evenly. “I just need help getting through this cavern—”

“Why don’t you go the normal way?” Jac asked with a rumbling growl.

“Don’t have Proofs.”

“Then plead with the Gatekeeper, not me.”

Rivley elbowed him. “Forget it. We can do this, just the two of us, if we—”

“We can’t,” Daeryn snapped. “My chance of getting out of the Basin is far better sneaking through a cavern than convincing a Borderlands Gatekeeper to bend his rules. But Terrent needs to lead us.” He turned back to Jac. “To help…a co-worker.”

“To help your sweetheart—”

“She’s not my sweetheart.”

“You want her to be,” said Maraquin from her bed.

Ah, hell. If he could have done this some other way besides in Mar’s face, he would have. He lifted a hand to rake it through his hair and thought better of it—more evidence of his frustration. Instead, he casually pointed to Maraquin. “Right, she’s not. But you both know my feelings for her, so it shouldn’t surprise you that I have to do this. Look, I can’t spill details, but Miz Gere is digging up evidence that Shearing might be coercing our fellow farmers with more than words. Knowing that, would you do any less than your best to find and protect one of your own?”

“Of course not.” Jac shuffled closer. “Why does Terrent know about this cavern and not anyone else?”

“He found it as a kit and used it to sneak into the Basin—” Daeryn slapped a hand to his head. “Great Creator. The pests. That could be how they’re getting in.”

Maraquin scrambled off her bed. “Seriously? You mean Terrent has known of a secret way in all this time and never said anything?” She elbowed Jac and pulled her back to whisper in her ear.

Daeryn couldn’t hear what she said, but Rivley nudged him again and gave a slight nod as the wolf girls talked. Daeryn released his breath. Jac really was better to get along with than a fortnight ago.

And more in control than I am.

Jac stepped away from Maraquin. “You haven’t considered our other team duties.”

Hell
. “Jac. This girl needs some help. Don’t make me force—” Daeryn snapped his mouth closed. When would he learn to think before he spoke?

“As if you could.” Jac snorted. “Great Creator, all that love scenting has affected your brain. I meant it’s our duty to check this out.”

A rumble started in his chest. How dare she—
love scenting?
He sniffed.
Annmar
.

Great Creator, indeed. Jac had hit upon his damned problem. He’d confused his human and ’cambire sides by scent-marking Annmar in human form.
Human form.
He shook himself. ’Cambires didn’t often do that because most of their protective needs occurred in animal form, but Annmar had no other form—and apparently it didn’t matter to his ’cambire side. And his urges to protect let his ’cambire control his head, driving out the teamwork he’d tried so hard to apply.

Rivley poked him in the back, making Daeryn glance up. Jac had straightened, and Maraquin stood at her alpha’s shoulder, both eyeing him. Damn, he didn’t need a fight just when he’d figured out the reason for his slips. Daeryn held up his open hands. “Uh, right.” Human. He’d keep to human form, human actions, talking things out. But all he could manage was to repeat Jac’s last words: “We should…check this out.”

Jac rolled her eyes. “How about this plan? You get Terrent to lead us, Maraquin and me also. I’ll let Zar know, but we should be back for tonight’s start. As a team, we’ll check whether the gobblers are using this cavern, then you’re on your own.”

A door opened down the hall. “Youse talking about me?” shouted Terrent.

“You heard right,” Daeryn called back. “May as well get out here.” He eyed Jac for a second, then stuck out his hand. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to clear the rest of us with Miz Gere. Three of us should make it back by full dark, but if you’re taking Rivley, a Harvester mechanic…”

His shoulders tensed again. Daeryn didn’t trust himself to speak. He spun on his heel, nearly knocking over Rivley. His
co-leader
yanked him over the threshold of the wolves’ room. He swung the door closed while telling Jac and Mar, “Right. We’ll handle that while you two get ready.” The door thudded shut, and Rivley shoved Daeryn toward Terrent with a muttered, “That’s as close as you’ll get to Jac agreeing. After this, sweet-talking Mistress Gere will be as easy as catching mice in a bag of grain.”

True. Miz Gere had concerns about Riv operating the Harvester anyway, so he’d bring up a night’s break. More complicated was navigating this trip. Daeryn had to manage it without further angering the wolves, or Rivley, before he settled his ’cambire side.

* * *

Breakthrough Gap

It wasn’t as
easy as Annmar had believed for her to get by Mr. Yates with the Proof from her arrival.

“Shouldn’t have that,” he said. “I plumb forgot it when you made Mr. O’s drawing.”

But it was his gratitude for the drawing she’d done of the cat for his wife’s birthday that weighed heavier when she asked to return to the Outside to tidy up a business transaction, accompanied by Mary Clare—for propriety, she emphasized.

Describing his cat’s invigorated constitution—which Annmar didn’t dare comment on—Mr. Yates offered an arm to each girl and escorted them through the gorge. Dappled sunlight lit the rising stone. No chill clutched her, no feelings of the rock closing around her. Still, the walls lay close enough to touch and, when viewed through her Knack, rippled with blue waves.

On the Gapton side, Mr. Yates helped them onto the train and, with a cocked brow, put out his hand.

Annmar and Mary Clare placed their Proofs in it.

“This don’t mean I don’t expect you back,” he said, “but I’m charged to guard what’s ours.” He tipped his hat, and the train rolled down the incline.

* * *

While Rivley worked
out the details of what they needed to take and how, Daeryn raced to the greenhouse. He searched the workbench until he found what he needed: a small jar with drops of fungus brew remaining in the bottom. It would be enough if Rivley needed to be knocked out to cross through the cavern.

He wrapped it in a rag and slipped the jar into his pocket before pounding across the farmyard again. Three figures trudged around the drive. He gave the group only a cursory glance—most of the farmworkers were dragging their feet these days—and when Leander hailed him, he only waved and continued to the main house.

But then an even more familiar voice snapped, “Dae!”

He turned. “Great—”

The silver-haired boy ran to him and leaped…tumbling them both to the ground. Chocolate fur flushed across Daeryn’s skin, protecting him from the gravel but not the playful batting of oversized mountain cat paws. They rolled again and again, their tangle of brown arms and legs surging back and forth between human and ’cambire. Great fun, but…

Daeryn flipped up and forced his body to human, at the same time pinning the heel of one hand to a shoulder in a worn homespun shirt—a style he recognized from Rockbridge, along with the grinning face.

He couldn’t help grinning back. “Jeptha Silverside.”

“Ey up, Dae?” The cheeks of the wiry fellow flicked in and out of his ’cambire’s thickly furred jowls.

“My message reached you about helping?”

“Apparently just in time. You look like hell.”

Daeryn patted his former packmate’s thinly bearded jawline. “And this scruff of hair is supposed to make you look older?” The cat ’cambire was a year younger than he and Rivley.

“Aw, you noticed.” Jeptha’s eyes lit up, and he jutted out his chin, making the black and silver mottled hairs puff out. “Goes well with roaming in the Wildlands.”

The Wildlands. Was he kidding? Few ’cambires were welcome in the lands the wolves controlled. But knowing Jeptha, it’d be a long tale, and one that would have to wait. “That’s how you’re here so quickly.”

“And ready to pitch in. You need help?” He looked pointedly at the hand Daeryn had pressed to his left shoulder.

Daeryn’s canines twitched for the second time in a half hour.
Damn, what is with me?
He yanked his hand from Jeptha and straightened, first to kneeling and then his feet. He offered Jeptha a hand and pulled him up. “It’s not like that here,” he said, maybe too sharply. He waved to the farm buildings. “It’s a business, work. I’m in charge of the nocturnal guards, but it’s a team position, not pack.”

Jeptha tilted his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Instead of alphas, we have skilled leaders—many of them—and skilled followers, and we listen to each other and support each other in any way we can. Trust me, it works.”

Almost immediately, Jeptha’s shoulder shrugged to the thick silver hair trailing his collar. “I don’t see how, but I do trust you. Just tell me what to do.”

That’s what Daeryn needed to hear. Jeptha had always been a follower, a good pack member, ready for whatever, and best, a fierce and agile hunter. People never guessed from his easygoing personality. Daeryn clasped his shoulder. “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.” He looked back at the house. Their playful greeting had taken them to the edge of the pear orchard, thirty feet from where Leander and another man stood—no, a woman with cropped black hair. Loose masculine clothing hid her slight figure, but the scent and sense of her were unmistakable.

Daeryn tilted his head toward the female and raised a questioning brow. “You and…?”

Jeptha smirked. “Like I’d ever be interested. That’s Helen Shadowpaws. Better known as Hell-On-Paws. Just a friend. Another on the cat trails who could also help on short notice. You know me. Still the same…” His eyes took on a faint gleam. “And Riv?”