Winterveil (3 page)

“The first step toward a new world,” she said. “The veil is falling, Kate. You can feel it here. The land feels it. We will show our people the truth they refuse to see. We will educate them, and they will have no choice but to listen to us.”

One of the Blackwatch officers held his hand over the side of the boat, but Kate ignored it, preferring to climb out herself.

“Where are the horses?” Dalliah's voice was sharp and impatient as she strode through the hail.

A tiny light flickered from the cliff top.

“They are here. Waiting above us,” said one of the officers.

A small shadow swept over the boat as the crow from the ship flew directly over them, heading for the cliff. It perched upon a rocky crag, looking down at the people below.

“Kate,” said Dalliah, “come with me.”

Kate grabbed the bag and glanced once toward the darkened cave. Blackwatch officers flanked her on both sides, and the third stayed next to the boat as she followed Dalliah toward a tunnel mouth and into the very heart of the cliff.

 

“Let's go,” said Edgar, peering out of the cave once the group was out of sight. “You can take on three Blackwatch. Let's get Kate and get out of here.”

Silas ignored him.

“She's right there!” said Edgar.

“There are Blackwatch officers above us, two at Kate's side and one posted as a lookout,” said Silas. “The moment we attack, that lookout will send a signal to the crew. You would be dead within moments, and I could not guarantee Kate's safety. We would be squandering our only advantage.”

Silas kept a close eye upon the lookout, while flurries of ice blew around the boat. It was not long before the two officers who had accompanied Kate and Dalliah returned to the shore without them. The three men pushed the vessel back into the water and boarded it quickly, then rowed back toward the ship that sat like a scar upon the gray waters.

Silas moved out into the open with Edgar following closely behind. The hail provided some cover against anyone watching from the ship, making it hard to distinguish two moving figures from the dark backdrop of the rocks. There was no way of knowing how many of the Blackwatch were above them, but with the ship on the move at least they would not have any reinforcements. Silas could dispatch them at will.

He headed for the hidden staircase and listened for signs of any movement above. He climbed the steps up to a hatch, but there was no sound of any horses. No one talking. No one moving. He clicked the latch and pushed the trapdoor open. The crumbling buildings on the cliff top looked completely deserted. Dalliah Grey had had no reason to remain there any longer than was necessary. Getting Kate to the capital city was all that mattered to her.

Edgar reached the top of the staircase and hugged his stolen coat around himself against the bitter wind. “Where did they go?”

Silas climbed out and assessed his surroundings. The wild weather made it hard to tell how many animals had been brought there recently. He doubted Dalliah would risk transporting Kate alone, but the Blackwatch would not have dedicated too many men to honor an arrangement with the woman when it had greater plans at work in Albion. Two, perhaps three officers would be enough. They would travel swiftly, taking minimal rest and avoiding any settlements along the way, preferring the wilds over any place where they could be identified as the enemy. The weather would be against them. That would force them to stay on open paths and prevent them from taking risks. Silas, however, had no such constraints.

“We must reach the city before them,” he said as Edgar stood beside him.

“You can't just walk back into Fume. The wardens are still looking for you. They think you are a traitor.”

“They are wrong.”

“I know that. But if they catch you, they'll bury you.”

Silas glared down at him.

Nuggets of hail peppered Edgar's hair. “I still say we should have taken our chances at the cove,” he said quietly.

Silas saw movement along the cliff to the north and spotted a crow gliding toward them, carried upon the sea breeze. The bird circled over a clutch of abandoned houses and fluttered down onto Silas's raised wrist. Its feathers were damp, and it shook itself dry before climbing up onto Silas's shoulder, where it stood pecking at its claws.

Silas allowed his senses to shift briefly into the veil, searching for the crow's memories that would be waiting for him there. The half-life fell over his consciousness like smoke as he closed his mind to everything except what he was there to find. He could not risk alerting Dalliah to his presence by reaching out to Kate directly; but the crow's spirit shone brightly, and his thoughts connected with it, allowing him to see what it had seen.

“Kate is starting to remember,” he said, witnessing the memories as a single thought.

“The crow told you that?” asked Edgar.

“It earns its place beside me. Unlike some.”

During his time on the Continent, Silas had learned that Dalliah Grey's only goal was to bring down the veil across Albion, allowing the souls of the half-life to roam freely across the living world. Kate was the key that would help her complete centuries of work, so long as she could keep the girl under control. No matter what it took, Silas could not let her succeed.

“They won't want to be seen,” said Edgar, ignoring his comment. “They will avoid settlements, maybe even ride around them. That will slow them down. Not much help since we're on foot and they're on—” Determined to prove himself more useful than a bird, he stared at Silas. “That man you killed. He didn't walk here, did he? What if he had a horse? The Blackwatch wouldn't have taken it. They brought plenty of their own. There has to be a horse here somewhere!”

Edgar's freezing body warmed with a sudden rush of hope. He set off between the abandoned buildings and soon spotted something moving among the driving hail. “There!” He headed toward it, glad to do anything that did not involve standing still and freezing to death, and found a gray horse sheltering beneath a half-fallen roof, tethered to a tree. “I was right!” he shouted back at Silas. “Look!” He reached out a hand to pat the horse's muzzle, but it shied away from him, whinnying and pinning its ears against its skull.

“Stay back,” said Silas, walking toward the beast. “This is an old battle horse. It can smell the blood on you.”

Edgar spotted the dark, curling brand on the animal's flank that marked it as a soldier's battle horse and immediately backed away. Battle horses were strong and well trained but dangerous in the wrong hands.

The horse stamped as Silas approached.

“Few of these are found outside active service,” said Silas. He whispered something to the horse, and slowly it began to settle. “It may not be the fastest beast, but it is sturdy enough.”

Silas climbed up into the saddle and Edgar kept his distance, trying not to think about the dead man's blood still staining his coat. The last time he had been on a horse he had been close to death, and he was not eager to relive the experience.

“Climb up,” said Silas. Edgar took a deep breath and accepted Silas's hand; he hooked his foot into the stirrup and climbed onto the horse behind Silas's saddle. The horse's coat was sleek and well groomed; it would not take much for Edgar to fall. He clung on to Silas's coat for his life as the horse turned away from the cliffs.

Silas knew that coast well: every watchtower, every trail. He directed the horse across a wild expanse of tangled land, far from any path the Blackwatch might have taken. Dalliah believed she had stepped onto Albion soil unseen, but Silas would not let the rest of her plan unfold so easily. He already knew his targets' destination. He intended to reach the graveyard city first.

3

A FACE IN THE DARK

O
n that freezing morning, two very different journeys began to cross Albion's wild counties. Silas and Edgar rode their horse across barren fields heading directly west, while Kate's group behaved exactly as Silas had predicted, following the trail a short distance north before curling in toward the dense forests that were scattered across Albion's eastern lands.

Kate was riding a brown horse led by a Blackwatch officer riding in front. Another officer rode to her right, with a third behind her and Dalliah completing the formation to her left. The Blackwatch men had arrived disguised in black robes like those worn by Albion's wardens, ensuring that no one would dare challenge them on the road. Kate had been given a robe of her own, and she pulled it tightly around her as the hail shifted into relentless rain that stung her cheeks and blew into her eyes. No one saw the shadow of a crow flying steadily above the treetops directly overhead.

They rode on through the afternoon and early evening, until darkness pulled in like a heavy cloth, blanketing the Wild Counties in a coverlet of moonlight and stars. Trees glimmered in the cold. The horses' breath steamed in pale gusts of white, and the rain that had fallen turned slowly into ice, leaving fingers of glassy icicles clinging to the trees. Kate shivered beneath her robes. Her lips were pale, and her fingers gripped the reins without even trying, as if the cold had frozen them into place.

Dalliah did not feel the cold. Her body did not need the ordinary comforts that burdened other human lives. She could have ridden easily for days without rest, but the girl, Dalliah remembered, was not as resilient as she. The horses tired, lowering their heavy heads as they walked, and in the distance faint lights sparked as a settlement came into sight.

“We should set up camp for the night,” said one of the officers. “The horses need to rest.”

“You and your men can sleep in whatever muddy ditch you wish,” said Dalliah. “The girl and I will spend the night in the closest approximation we have to civilization.” She pointed to the lights. “There. I have no intention of scrabbling about in the dirt.”

The Blackwatch officers might not have agreed with Dalliah's decision, but they had orders to act upon it.

“One of us will camp with the horses,” said the lead officer. “The others will accompany you.”

“Discreetly,” said Dalliah.

“Of course.”

Dalliah and Kate dismounted and walked toward a rough fence encircling what looked like a small trading village. A few silver coins bought them entry past the guard on the gate, and the eyes of the few people still out in the cold fell on them immediately. Dalliah was not the kind of woman to pass unnoticed. Her presence alone made people uncomfortable. No one stayed near her for long.

The only stone building in the settlement was an inn with a red rose painted on a swinging sign. When Dalliah stepped inside, everyone huddled around the fire fell quiet. She paid for a room and took her bag of papers from Kate.

“Servants belong downstairs,” she said. “We will leave at sunrise.”

“I'm not your servant.” Kate's voice was loud enough to be heard by most of the people in the room.

Dalliah took hold of Kate's arm in a way that could have looked gentle to the onlookers, but her fingers wrapped around Kate's wrist and twisted hard, just enough to crick the bone and hold her attention. “You will do as I say, or you will spend the night in the gutter.” She spoke through a well-practiced smile, but her eyes were filled with a venom that Kate had not noticed before. “Sit down and do not talk to anyone.” She continued. “You will stay silent. Do you understand?”

When Dalliah took her hand away, a bruise blossomed around Kate's wrist. “Yes,” she said.

“Remain here. If you wander, you will regret letting me down.” Dalliah turned to the innkeeper, who was staring at her warily, in case she turned her anger upon him next. “This girl is to be left alone,” she said. “When I return, she will be waiting for me, unharmed and untouched. You will watch her.” She scattered a handful of silver on the counter, and the innkeeper's eyes widened when he spotted three glimmers of gold among them.

“Y-yes, ma'am.”

“Good.”

Dalliah climbed the steps to the upper floor without looking back, and the man scooped up the coins at once, hiding the gold pieces in his palm before the people around the fire could spot them. He smiled at Kate, recognizing her as a route to quick money. She turned away from him, looking for a seat well away from everyone else, and found one with its back to a corner of the room.

The inn was drafty, but infinitely more comfortable than hours spent sitting on a horse's back. A small fire was burning steadily in the grate, and when the flames threatened to burn too low, an old woman knelt down to tend it. The flames dulled a little as they caught on the leathery edges of what had once been books, now torn apart and good only for kindling. The old woman pushed the books in one by one, and the sight of the flames chewing around the edges of the papers stirred an uncomfortable feeling within Kate. Something twitched in her memory. The smell of burning paper . . . kneeling in a small space . . . someone beside her, whispering in the dark.

“Been traveling far?” Kate had not noticed the innkeeper walking up beside her, carrying a tray with a mug and slices of buttered bread. “You look as if you could do with this.” He put the tray down in front of her and refused to be discouraged when she did not speak. “We've had a few like you in here. Traveled in from Fume, I suppose. It's not a place many people want to be right now.”

Kate looked up. She wanted to ask questions, but knew that for the right coin this man would tell Dalliah everything about their conversation, so she stayed quiet instead.

“Eat up, then,” he said. “I won't tell her upstairs.”

Kate was too far from the fire to feel much more than gentle warmth, but it was enough. The herbal drink warmed her from the inside, and the food settled her stomach while the people around her talked among themselves, chattering about their lives and speculating about the “servant girl” and her mistress. They were so engrossed in this new subject that no one looked twice when one of the Blackwatch officers entered the inn. He had removed his warden's robe and now looked just like any other traveler. He mingled perfectly with the villagers, laughing with them and even accepting an offer of a drink before he took a seat in the corner farthest from Kate. She tried to ignore him and turned instead to the company of the book hidden secretly beneath her coat. People glanced over at her whenever they thought she wasn't looking, but the innkeeper made sure that she was left alone.

Kate opened the book to a page near the back, and a black feather slid out from its place tucked against the spine. The feather was old and tattered. The place it had marked held details of a Skilled technique that could bind a dying soul to that of a living person in order to prolong its life, but what had begun as an attempt to save the life of a dying subject had become something far more sinister. Different writers had added to the book over the years, and those who had worked on that technique reported that it did not just prolong a life but also prevented the one woman who had been experimented upon from ever knowing the peace of true death.

Dalliah was that woman, still living, centuries on, but her story was not what had drawn Kate to that particular part of the book. She had the feeling that there was something more there, something important that she had not seen, but no matter how many times she read that section, her broken memories would not tell her what it was.

Kate remained alone at her table, sometimes reading, sometimes sleeping in her chair, until a loud thud woke her. Something had hit the window next to the inn's main door.

“Was that a bird?” A woman's voice rose from a chair next to the fire, where she had been sleeping with a baby in her arms. “Are there more out there?”

Two men scratched their chairs back and looked out the windows.

“Can't see nothin',” said one of them.

“Where there's birds, there's wardens,” said the other. “I'm not lettin' them take me!” He pulled the bolts across the inn door and backed away from it as if death itself were waiting for him on the other side.

The innkeeper threw a spoon at the man's back, making him jump wildly. “Stop scaremongerin'! No warden has ever put a booted toe across that threshold, so don't you be frightenin' people off with your talk. Hear me?”

The woman rested her baby in a cloth sling across her chest and went to look for herself. “I was in Harrop when they harvested it last,” she said. “Some of us got out over the walls; lots of us didn't. The wardens took half the town away that day. None came back.”

“We all have stories,” said the innkeeper. “There's a right time to tell 'em, and this isn't it.”

Kate and the Blackwatch officer kept quiet as everyone gradually agreed that the noise was nothing to worry about and they all settled cautiously back to their business. The innkeeper walked around to unbolt the door and, despite his assurances, opened it just wide enough to take a wary look outside. His hand was shaking, and his fingers rested on the bolt as he hesitated, in two minds over whether to lock it or not. The view of the street reassured him, but just before the door swung shut Kate was sure she saw something he had missed: someone standing out there in the dark.

“Nothing to worry about, miss,” said the innkeeper, returning to his counter. “You're safe as houses here.”

Kate was not ready to take his word on that. She carried her book to the window and slid a lit candle to one side so she could look out. The moment she was close enough to see through the dimpled glass, something moved behind it. A crow was sitting on the windowsill. It perched there for a few seconds, its black eyes turned her way, and then took flight, swooping over to land on the shoulder of someone waiting in the rain.

A man was out there, standing on the other side of the muddy road. His eyes shone white in the moonlight as he stepped out of the shadows. The black feather was still in Kate's hand, and she turned it between her fingers, remembering something small, yet significant. “Silas,” she whispered.

 

Silas watched Kate carefully. Everything depended upon keeping her attention. He knew how strong her link with the veil had become. If he could use that link and remind her, just for a moment, of the memories she had lost, he could see how deeply Dalliah's influence had spread.

The crow settled on a wall behind him, its work done, while Edgar kept watch over one of Dalliah's guards a short distance away. Silas did not know if what he was attempting would work, but he had to find out what he was dealing with. If her mind could be saved, that was reason enough to spare her life. If not, he could end Dalliah's plan there and then with the edge of his blade.

The world around Silas slipped into shades of gray. The candle on the inn's windowsill dulled to a faint blue flame, and Kate's eyes shimmered as she let the veil take hold. Silas had looked into Kate's memories before, but this was very different. This time she was the one who had to see the truth. He did not have to share her thoughts; he had to let her see into his.

The inn's sign creaked gently in the wind, each swing becoming slower and slower until all movement stopped. The inn walls dissolved into gray, and he could see the souls of the people within it as soft blurs of light filtering through the shadowy barrier of stone. Kate's soul shone the brightest of them all. Silas's blood chilled until it flowed like icy water through his veins. Then he sensed her. Kate's spirit was so tightly attuned to the veil that its brightness intensified when viewed through it, like sunlight through a magnifying glass. Dalliah had recognized that strength within her. All Silas had to do was remind Kate of what she already possessed.

Kate's consciousness blossomed in his mind like a glowing ember rising into a gentle flame. Instinct carried her through his memories. Half-remembered pieces of his past crystallized into sharp focus for brief moments before dissipating again as she searched for any sign of her old life, anything that would tell her who she was and why Silas was there.

Kate saw everything that Silas knew: every terrifying event he had caused in the past and every moment of the time they had spent together in Fume, she as his prisoner, he as her captor. She sensed the strength of purpose that had carried him into her life and relived the moment when he had turned against the High Council to save her from the enticing pull of death. She witnessed his vicious treatment at the hands of the Blackwatch as seen through his own eyes, as well as the offer Dalliah had made to him before they had left the Continent. Dalliah's voice spoke clearly within the memory.
We can regain our souls and be whole again. Surely that is worth the life of one young girl, Silas. Don't you agree?

Kate broke away at once. Their connection lasted only a few moments, but her absence left a feeling of emptiness within Silas as he let her go. Kate stared through the window, her face gently blurred by the glass, and there was recognition there. After everything Silas had shown her and everything he had done, she remembered.

The inn's sign squeaked back into motion as the living world dominated Silas's senses once again. Kate looked back into the inn's main room and stepped away from the glass, while Edgar made his way toward Silas, crossing the street and sticking closely to the shadows.

“That Blackwatch officer looks like he'll be sitting there for a while,” he said, completely oblivious to what had just happened. “Have you seen any sign of Kate?”

“She is inside,” said Silas. “Under guard.”

“So, why aren't you going in?”

“Dalliah has not remained free all these years without being cunning,” said Silas. “If we take Kate now, she may still find a way to go ahead with her plan. She would hunt Kate down. Kate would never be safe.”