Weavers (The Frost Chronicles) (8 page)

A lump filled my throat. The gate looked dead now. Impotent. Nothing but a round, flat piece of metal surrounded by ruins. I remembered how it’d sprang to life, how the air had hummed, how the snow around had crackled with power. I remembered the way the edges had closed around Gabe like a mouth around a morsel of food.

Where did this gate lead? Where had it taken him? And how in the world were we supposed to find him and the others to bring them back?

Jonn craned his neck as we drew closer. His eyes played over the gate and the panels that flanked it. He seemed to be searching for something. His fingers brushed the air as he gestured to the left, at one of the walls. “There, please.”

Adam carried him forward, and Jonn reached out one hand to touch the stone.

“Here,” he murmured to himself, looking for something. “No...wait. Here.”

More etchings covered this wall, these ones symbols that made no sense. A figure. A triangle. Something that looked like raindrops.

Jonn frowned. His eyebrows pulled together in a dark line, and he traced the triangle with his hand. “There should be something here,” he said.

“Something?” I asked, but he didn’t answer me.

“A little more to the left, please,” he said.

Adam stepped farther down the wall, a few paces more past the portal. Jonn gazed up at the vast stretch of gray stone and rusted metal. He muttered under his breath and reached out again. I saw another symbol, a fainter one.

I watched, astonished, as he pressed his palm against the wall. A panel flipped open, and something tumbled out and bounced on the ground with a clatter. I gasped.

Adam crouched and set Jonn down on the floor with a groan. He picked up the fallen object and turned it over in his hands—a flat box, tightly sealed. Sunlight glinted off the metal edge and hurt my eyes.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Another, final journal. The location was described in the code Da left,” Jonn said. He was breathless. “The location by the gate...the symbols on the wall...this was all left for someone to find.”

“Us?”

“Maybe.”

He took the box from Adam and felt across the top. There was a click, and the top flipped open. He pulled out a sheaf of papers and a folded-up journal, and then he met my eyes with a delighted smile.

“I think we just found our instructions.”

~

Jonn muttered to himself under his breath and thumbed through the journal the entire way back to the farm. The journal was badly torn and burned in places, as if it had been carried through a war zone. Whole sections were missing.

“Will it be of any use to you?” I asked.

Jonn waved a hand at me that meant
yes
...or
shut up
...it was hard to tell.

When we reached the house again, Adam carried Jonn inside while I stabled the animals. When I emerged from the barn, he was waiting for me on the porch of the farmhouse, his hands tucked in his pockets and the wind blowing his hair into his eyes.

“If what your brother found is what he thinks it is...”

“We’ll be able to find them,” I finished.

“Yes.”

When we reached the door, he touched my elbow. I felt the heat of his fingers through my clothing, and the place where he touched me burned. I dragged my eyes up to meet his.

“I need to speak with Jonn alone,” he said, giving me a grim and apologetic smile.

“Oh.” I took a step back and fumbled with my cloak. “Of course.” Confusion swam in my chest, along with a trace of hurt. Weren’t we all in this mission together? But I pushed the emotions away. I was a Thorns agent, not a silly little girl who pouted a kept secret.

“I’ll be in the barn if you need me,” I said.

“Thank you.” He went into the house, and I stood on the stoop and stared at the door while the wind teased my hair and blew its chilly breath beneath the edges of my cloak.

I turned and slogged through the snow to the barn.

~

Adam found me later. I was brushing the horses with short, firm strokes. The smell of leather and old hay filled my nostrils, but I smelled pine and ice and knew he was behind me before he spoke.

“Have you finished your business with my brother?” I asked, without turning around.

“I have.” He spoke calmly, gravely. There was a distance between us, and it both puzzled and distressed me. I turned.

“Adam—”

“There are things that cannot be shared with you, Lia. I’ve received orders that the contents of the journal we discovered are to be kept secret. Only Jonn and his superior—me—and my superior are to know them. I am sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “It’s how things must be. It might be a little odd, not being able to talk with him about it as we’ve been doing, but I understand.”

The muscles in his jaw relaxed slightly at my words, and the lines on his forehead eased. “I’m pleased that you understand.”

He was using formality between us like a shield. I made a noise of frustration in my throat and reached for the brush again. He covered my hand with his, and I stared at it.

“Lia—”

The barn door burst open and my sister stumbled in. “Lia,” she gasped. “Come quickly.”

Adam pulled his hand from mine as we both turned.

“What is it?”

“Jonn’s having a seizure! It’s a bad one.”

Seizure
. The word struck me like a stone. I picked up my skirts without another word and ran for the house.

My brother lay on the floor of the main room, convulsing. His eyes were white in his head and froth ran from his lips. Everiss crouched beside him, her hands fluttering over his chest, and when she saw me she scrambled up. “Lia! Quick!”

“It’s all right,” I said, speaking firmly. “Put a blanket in his mouth—sometimes he bites his tongue. Ivy, grab the quilts. Let’s just keep him warm until it passes.”

I didn’t miss the fear flashing in Everiss’s eyes as she hurried to do what I’d ordered. Her hands shook as she fumbled with one of the blankets that had been thrown across the back of Jonn’s chair. I knelt beside my brother and took his hand. His fingers were twisted in a gnarled claw of a shape, and I rubbed them. “It’s all right, brother,” I murmured.

Adam came in and shut the door behind him. He knelt beside me and didn’t say anything, but his presence comforted me.

Finally, the seizure abated. My brother lay still, his arms and legs limp, his mouth slack. I breathed out in relief. “Can you help me carry him to the bedroom?”

Adam scooped Jonn up like he was just a bag of goose down and took him to my parents’ bedroom. He laid Jonn on the bed and I covered him with a quilt. Everiss and Ivy hovered in the doorway, their eyes wide.

“He’s fine,” I assured Everiss, who looked ready to faint. “Sometimes he has episodes like this, but they always pass. Do we have anything we can make soup with? He’ll be hungry when he wakes.”

“I’ll heat the water,” Ivy volunteered. She disappeared into the main room. Everiss went to the bed and stood beside Jonn, gazing down at his sleeping face.

Adam and I went out to the fireside.

“Have you ever called the Healer?” he asked.

“Garrett Healer has seen him, as has his daughter, Brenna Healer. They could do nothing for him. There was another Healer, a traveling one who roamed the Frost between villages, and he described a procedure that he’d heard of in Aeralis that might help. Of course, such hope is impossible for us.”

“Maybe if—”

I lifted my head, and my eyes narrowed. Adam fell silent.

“There are no maybes. There is nothing to be done. I will not entertain foolish notions about maybe. It will get Ivy’s hopes up, nothing more.”

Adam ran one finger up and down the edge of his cloak. He didn’t speak.

“He’s working too hard,” I said, standing and going to the table where the journals were spread in a semicircle. “The trip to Echlos must have exhausted him. That and the lack of food...maybe he should be off this mission.”

“Don’t coddle him. He’s part of the Thorns now. He has a job to do, the same as you and me. You know that.”

“Lia,” a voice called weakly from the bedroom.

I hurried to his side with Ivy at my heels. Adam stayed by the fire, watching the flames. Everiss moved back to give us space, and I dropped to my knees at my brother’s side and brushed a few damp strands of hair from his forehead. “How do you feel?”

His lips quirked in a smile. “Stupid,” he rasped. “I haven’t had a bad episode in years and now...”

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

His eyes flickered. He struggled to sit up. “Is Adam still here?”

“Jonn...”

He turned his head and gazed straight into my eyes. A vein in his neck pulsed, and he gritted his teeth. “Don’t.”

A pang shot through me at his tone. I understood. I dropped my hand and climbed to my feet. “I’ll get him.” I gave Everiss and Ivy a look as I left the room, and they followed me without speaking. “He wants to speak with you,” I told Adam, my words terse, and then I stepped into the kitchen and banged the pans around for a bit as my anger settled.

The girls busied themselves with the little food we had left. The soup bubbled and simmered on the stove, and when it was hot enough, Ivy ladled it into bowls. I didn’t miss the way her hands trembled.

“Shall I take one to Jonn?” she asked me, licking her lips and stealing a look at Everiss as if seeking solidarity against the heat of my anger.

“Give them a minute,” I barked, flicking my gaze at the door, which Adam had shut behind him.

I couldn’t protect him. Every fiber of my being ached to, but he wasn’t going to let me. I knew I had to acquiesce. I had to step back and let it go.

Finally, Adam emerged. His dark gaze tangled with mine, but he didn’t let it linger there. He crossed the room and let himself out into the cold.

My chest felt hollow. I stood still for a moment, absorbing the feeling and struggling to keep my face composed. I heard Jonn’s voice over the sound of the fire on the hearth and the clank of dishes behind me. I went into the room again.

“Bring me the journal, please,” he said. “The one we found at Echlos.”

His eyelids fluttered with exhaustion, and his fingers shivered against the blankets. I hesitated. Something cold and hard and dread-shaped knotted in the pit of my stomach.

“Please. Lia,” he said. “I have things I have to do before I can sleep.”

“You need to rest.”

“Don’t treat me like a child!” The words cut through the air like a knife. I flinched. “Don’t,” he said, softer now. “Don’t do that to me. Give me some dignity, sister.”

My cheeks flushed, and I whirled to fetch him the journals. I put the newest one on the top of the stack.

“Thank you,” he breathed, when I’d deposited them on the bed beside his hand. He touched his fingertips to the paper and then lifted his face toward me. “I’m sorry...I’m very tired. I didn’t mean it.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

We shared a terse smile, and then he lifted one of the books with a look that said he wanted to be alone. I slipped out and shut the door. I slumped against it and pressed a hand over my eyes.

I wanted to talk to Adam, but he’d already left...and perhaps I just needed to think about this myself.

“Will he be all right?” Everiss asked from across the room.

“He’ll be fine,” I said. “He just needs rest.”

But I wasn’t sure I believed my own words.

THE NEXT MORNING, Jonn was awake and pouring over the journal we’d found in Echlos even though his face was still pale and his hands trembled. Everiss had slept by the fire in his place. Ivy was gone again to find berries, they told me.

Unease churned in my stomach. Jonn wasn’t better yet. Atticus still concerned me. And I was worried about Ann. I hadn’t seen her in days.

“I have to go into the village today,” I told Everiss. “Keep Jonn quiet and try to keep him from getting up. Feed him soup and milk. I’ll bring back some herbs that always calm him.”

She nodded at my instructions and swallowed hard. Her lip trembled as she glanced toward the closed bedroom door. “Will he have another episode, do you think?”

“I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. So try to keep him calm and comfortable until I get back.”

It was the most cordial conversation we’d had since she’d come to stay with us. Jonn’s injuries had knit us together in a most unexpected way, but I didn’t have time to ponder it. I needed to fetch the herbs, deliver my quota, and see if Ann was all right. I hadn’t laid eyes on her in days. “I’ll be back shortly,” I said, and left for the village.

The sky was pale blue and pebbled with clouds. Snow dripped from the trees and ice leaked everywhere. When I reached the village, the streets ran wet with weeping sludge. I hurried through the streets for the market, where I always traded bits of yarn for the herbs I needed.

Old woman Tanna peered at me shrewdly. “Yarn for herbs?”

“Yes,” I said, impatient. “Just as always.”

“Can’t,” the woman said, turning her head to cough into her sleeve. “Food only.”

“I don’t have any food to spare.”

She gazed at me with watery eyes. “Then no herbs.”

Turning on my heel, I stalked away before I said or did anything rash. My blood flamed with anger, but I knew she had to look out for herself, too. She needed to eat as much as anyone, but that thought didn’t make the lack of medicine for my brother any less bitter.

I needed to see Ann. Maybe she could do something to help us. I lifted my gaze to the Mayor’s house, white and cold in the sunlight at the top of the hill. My heart clenched with sudden foreboding. I drew in a breath and began to head toward it.

A hand snagged my arm, and I was wrenched into an alley and pressed up against a wall. Dark eyes gazed into mine. Adam.

“Brewer—what—?”

He released me but didn’t step back. “Where are you going?”

“To speak with my best friend.” I straightened my cloak and glared at him. The anger swirled in me, making me irritable and bold. “Why are you suddenly snatching people out of the street? You’re going to attract unwanted attention.”