Weavers (The Frost Chronicles) (26 page)

Finally, we were ready.

Ivy stood in the yard, brave and dry-eyed, watching us prepare to go. She wrapped her arms around her midsection as if she was holding herself together, but when I hugged her tight she was the one who rubbed my back in small circles as if reassuring me. I wondered in astonishment at the change in her.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, and then she pushed me away. My whole body ached with sadness, but there wasn’t time to think. We ran, heading toward the trees in different directions, leaving multiple sets of footprints so the soldiers wouldn’t know which to follow. Ivy was running behind us, muddling them, crisscrossing the yard with as many footprints as she could make. Her smile flashed and she waved, and then we were plunging into the Frost and she slipped from sight.

I could barely breathe, but I kept walking, because I was a Weaver, and Weavers kept going no matter what.

The Frost was just a blur of white around us as we fled. Jacob and Atticus kept pace beside me, and Jonn and Everiss joined us as soon as they’d left tracks in the opposite direction and backtracked along one of the deer trails. We meet in a clearing ringed with snow blossoms.

“Where do we go now?” Everiss asked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the darkening forest around her. Her breath escaped her lips in a tendril of white, and it look like a ghost.

“Echlos,” I said. “It’s the only place that’s safe now.”

“No,” Atticus said.

I swung around to face him. He stood still, feet planted wide, his cloak swirling in the wind and flecks of snow blowing past his cheeks.

“What do you mean, no?”

“You cannot take them there.”

“We have to. There isn’t much time—”

“The other fugitives are there,” Jacob added. “We can’t leave them alone for long. They’ll need direction for settling in and keeping safe for the night, at least in that ruin. They’ll need food and warmth, especially the children.”

“Children?” Atticus’s gaze sharpened. He looked at me. “There were no children on my list, Weaver.”

“We couldn’t leave them,” Jacob interjected, dragging the attention from me. “Not with the Sickness, sir.
I
couldn’t leave them. Anyone who comes under my care is family to me, and I don’t let anything happen to my family. We made a judgment call based on the circumstances, and I think it was the right one.”

“I see,” Atticus said shortly. He folded his hands and said no more.

My heart thudded. I knew it would not be so simple. Someone would pay for this later. Probably me.

I didn’t have time to worry about that now, though. We had to get to safety before night fell and the Watchers came out. Before Farther soldiers found us. Before we froze in the gathering storm.

We were vulnerable, and there were any number of ways that we could die.

“Let’s keep going,” I said.

We pressed on into the bluish haze of the twilight. Bits of ice sliced my cheeks and the backs of my hands. Behind me, Jonn and Everiss clung together on the back of the horse, their eyes dull with exhaustion and cold. Neither one of them was accustomed to the cold like I was, with my frequent forays into the Frost. Jacob struggled through the snowdrifts at the very back, and Atticus stalked beside me. His expression was unreadable, but I knew he was angry.

Finally, we reached the hill just before the plain that held Echlos. Relief spread its wings in my chest, and I surged forward with a final burst of strength. “We’re here. Hurry—we need to get inside before the—”

“Not so fast.”

The edge in Atticus’s voice pulled me up tight. I stopped, turned.

He stood closest to me. His black cloak curled in the wind, fluttering around him. His shoulders were rigid. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do about the extra fugitives you brought back against my orders.”

“Listen, Atticus—”

“I’ve already figured out a way to rectify your mistake,” he said sharply. “You will go inside and ask everyone who wasn’t on the list to follow you. You will lead them to the village and abandon them where the soldiers can find them. Raine will think he’s captured the rest of the Thorns operatives—”

“What? That’s a terrible idea,” I argued. “I’m not letting them get arrested. We aren’t sacrificing them to save our own necks. I’m sorry about the extra people, but we’ll make do. They could be useful to us. Besides, if Raine gets hold of them, he’ll only interrogate them and learn about Echlos. Is that what you want?”

“He can’t interrogate them if they’re dead.”

“No,” I said firmly. A prickle of horror slid down my spine. As the fabric slipped away from his arms, I saw the weapon in his hands. My father’s gun.

“What are you doing?” The words tore themselves from my throat and floated on the wind as Atticus took a step closer to me.

“Agents must do as they’re told,” he growled. “If you won’t follow my orders willingly, then you’ll have to obey them with a gun in your face.”

“Are you crazy?” I demanded. My tongue stuck to my teeth. My hands trembled. “That weapon will attract Watchers!”

His finger tightened on the trigger, his eyes squeezed into a squint. “I’m tired of your excuses and lies.”

“Stop!” Jacob shouted.

He moved before anyone else had time to blink. He yanked Atticus against him and pressed a blade to the man’s back. “Drop your weapon.”

“What is this?” Atticus hissed. “What are you doing?”

“All those who came through the gate are part of my family...and I don’t let anything happen to my family,” Jacob growled. He pressed the knife into the folds of fabric of Atticus’s cloak, and the other man winced. “Now drop your weapon.”

Atticus elbowed him in the face and whirled toward me. Jacob clutched his bleeding face and clawed at Atticus’s arm. The gun went off.

The sound ripped the air open. I fell back, my ears ringing. The horses reared on their hind legs, snorting. Jonn’s mouth was moving. He was shouting at me, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I scrambled to my feet. My hands stung from the ice, and my hair fell into my eyes. I saw Jacob and Atticus struggling. The knife flashed in Jacob’s hand, and Atticus wrenched away and took aim at me again.

The roar filled the air like thunder.

Everyone froze.

Watchers
.

Atticus spun in a circle, aiming at the trees. His eyes searched the shadows.

“Your weapon will do nothing,” I called. “It will only attract them to you.”

Jacob took a nervous step back. “Lia?”

“We need to get inside,” I said. My mind spun. In the past, my blood had turned away the creatures. Would they still recognize the signal that caused them to turn away, or had that knowledge faded over the last 500 years?

The first beast stepped from the trees. It was a massive one, twice the size of the Watcher I’d confronted in the Security Center. Massive eyes glowed the color of scarlet. The long, wolfish head turned to look at us, and the jaws cracked open. Teeth sparkled like knifes.

Knives
... I needed a knife to cut my hand.

Another Watcher emerged from the trees, a smaller and more agile one than the first. Its eyes glowed as it paced toward us. The horses whinnied nervously and tossed their heads.

“Don’t move,” Atticus snarled, pointing the weapon at me. “Don’t you dare run, Lia Weaver.”

I froze, staring down the barrel.

“Atticus...”

He fired the gun, but then Jacob was there, pushing me out of the way, his body jerking as the bullet struck him. I fell into the snow on my hands and knees. “Jacob!” I shouted, but he lay still, unmoving.

The first Watcher launched forward, snapping at Atticus. He shot at it, and the bullet clanged harmlessly off the Watcher’s shoulder with a flash of sparks. The scaly skin tore, and through the gap I saw the flash of something metallic. The Watcher threw back its head and screamed. Only one thought filled my head—knife. Jacob had dropped it. But where?

I threw myself down into the snow, searching for it as Atticus fired another shot at the beast.

The second Watcher ran at Jonn and Everiss with a guttural snarl. I heard Everiss scream.

“Jonn! Cut your finger and then ride for Echlos as hard as you can!”

I didn’t look to see if he did as I’d asked. My fingers touched cold steel. I pulled the blade across my middle finger, and red sprouted along the tip. Dimly, I heard Atticus shriek in pain and become abruptly silent. Hot breath hissed over my shoulders, red glowed all around me, and I raised my hand to the sky as the wind swirled around me and over my fingers, carrying the scent of my blood.

The Watcher shuddered.

A single drop of my blood fell onto the snow. The Watcher stiffened, reared back. It growled softly, almost puzzled-sounding. I raised my head and looked it in the face.

“I am a Weaver,” I whispered to him. “My ancestors made you. Did you know that, Watcher?”

The beast was silent.

I raised my hand. The blood was seeping down my fingers. The Watcher hissed, took a step back, and turned for the forest. With a final twitch of its tail, it vanished into the shadows.

I stepped back and looked around. The second Watcher had also vanished. Jonn and Everiss were gone along with the second horse, and the hoof prints in the snow led toward Echlos.

Atticus lay fallen, his neck at a wrong angle. I gazed at him, numb, before I stooped to pick up the gun he’d dropped. My father’s gun. He’d almost killed me with my father’s gun.

I slid it into my belt and wiped the blood on my finger in the snow. I bent to take Atticus’s pulse.

He was dead.

I crossed to Jacob and found him dead also. I bent and closed his eyes, my heart aching at the loss of him. He’d been a good man. He’d saved my life.

“Thank you,” I whispered to him.

I crossed the frozen field alone toward Echlos. I’d need help from the others to move the bodies and give them a proper burial.

My mind spiraled with what lay ahead. We would have to find permanent shelter for the fugitives and contact the Thorns. The agents were scattered, captured, dead. I was in no position to lead the operations here. And my friends...my heart twisted when I thought of Ann, Adam. I clenched my hands into fists. We would get them back, somehow. I would figure out a way.

Because I was a Weaver.

Don’t miss book 4 in The Frost Chronicles—
Bluewing
—coming Spring 2013!

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friend
. You’re the best.

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Kate Avery Ellison lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and two spoiled (but extremely lovable) cats. She loves dark chocolate, fairy tale retellings, and love stories with witty banter and sizzling, unspoken feelings.

When she isn’t working on her next writing project, Kate can most often be found reading, watching one of her favorite TV shows, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends.

You can find more information about Kate Avery Ellison’s books and other upcoming projects online at http://thesouthernscrawl.blogspot.com/.

Read the first chapter of
The Curse Girl
, available now in paperback and ebook format!

My father drove me through the woods in his truck, the wheels shuddering over the dirt road while the air hummed with all the unspoken words between us. The tears wriggled down his wrinkled cheeks only to get lost in his beard. The mark on his wrist burned at the edge of my peripheral vision, as if it were glowing.