"What do you mean, she rode to West-ormere?"
Neirin flinched. "She took ten guards with her, m'lord. They left before noon, fully intending to be back before sunset. If the village was as sick as the young man said, an afternoon might not have been enough."
"Or maybe the entire thing was a set-up. We don't know who the messenger was, or whether someone put him up to it." Jonmarc warred with himself over what to do. Ride for Westormere, and he and his men might ride into a trap—or merely incur Carina's ire by meeting her group on the road back. Wait for dawn, and they would be too late if the messenger had been a ploy.
"M'lord! Open the door!"
Vahanian drew his sword and cautiously went to open the door. A runner stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and his cheeks red with the bitter cold. "M'lord! A vayasb moru just dropped a body off at the main gates. Two of the vayasb moru guards went after him, but they lost him. The body's been drained, m'lord. This was beside it in the snow." The young man held out his hand and opened his fist. Carina's shevir, crushed and twisted, lay on his palm.
"Call up the guard—mortal and vayash moru." Jonmarc said when he found his voice. "We ride for Westormere." He paused, and looked at the runner. "Have the guards tell no one about this. Do you understand?"
The runner nodded, wide-eyed, and left to do as he was bid.
Gabriel met Jonmarc's eyes. "The bracelet doesn't prove that Malesh has Carina. It could even be a copy. If you ride out, you're playing into his hands."
Jonmarc sheathed his sword and reached for his great cloak from the peg on the wall. "I promised her I would always come for her. I'm going to keep that promise."
Jonmarc's soldiers pushed their horses as fast as the snow covered roads would allow. The vyrkin caught up to them just outside the manor, and loped alongside, making the trek seem effortless. The guard rode with swords drawn, on alert for danger, but the forest and the roads were empty. And as they rode, Jonmarc struggled to quell fear that threatened to rise into panic.
Finally, Westormere came into view. Lights glowed in the windows of the tavern and the houses. It was clear from the snow that Carina's party had traveled this way. Jonmarc chafed at the delay as the group stopped just outside the village gates. A soldier dismounted and warily approached the guard seated in the small gate room. At a distance, Jonmarc could see the soldier speak to the man without success. He gently shook the guard, and the man slipped from his chair to the ground.
At Gabriel's silent signal, the guards spread. Three of them, all vayash moru, kept close to Jonmarc. As they rode into the village, trampled snow and broken windows were at odds with the peaceful image from afar.
"She's likely to be in the inn," Jonmarc said.
The door was splintered, ripped from its hinges. All of the windows were shattered, and shards of glass lay like bits of ice on the trampled snow. Jonmarc felt his heart pound as his boots crunched on the icy steps.
"Sweet Lady of Darkness," he murmured as he stepped into the tavern great room. A ghastly tableau spread before them. Near the fire, three women lounged as if drunk, spilled mugs of ale in their hands, their skirts arranged enticingly as if they were strumpets frozen in a moment of revelry. Their pallor and the bloodstains at the bodices of their dresses told otherwise.
Arranged at the long great room table was a feast. The guards and a young man Jonmarc did not recognize were seated at the table as if about to eat. Carina sat at the head of the table, as unmoving and silent as the others.
With a strangled cry, Jonmarc ran past Gabriel. He pulled back Carina's chair and she tumbled into his arms. She was deathly pale, and her skin was as cold as the snow outside. "No, please, no," Jonmarc murmured, desperately feeling at her throat for a pulse and bringing away fingers bloodied from the two punctures at the base of her neck. "Carina," he whispered, holding her to himself, burying his face in her hair as he sobbed.
"Jonmarc." The voice sounded with compulsion, something Gabriel had never used with him. Now, it broke through his grief.
"Leave me alone."
"She's not dead, Jonmarc."
Jonmarc lifted his head, unashamed of the tears that streaked down his face. "There's no pulse. I can't feel her breath. She's cold as ice."
"Listen to me, Jonmarc. They meant to bring Carina across as a strike against you. But a healer can't be brought across. Whoever did this must have been young in the Gift not to know that. The healing magic won't accept the Dark Gift. My senses are sharper than yours. She isn't dead, and she isn't brought across. There's hope."
Jonmarc heard Gabriel giving orders to the guards, and was grateful to him for taking command of the situation. Gabriel called two of the vayash moru soldiers to him.
"Jess—I want you to find Riqua. Tell her what's happened, and ask her to come to Dark Haven immediately. Then go to Westmarch. Find the Keeper Royster. Bring him back to Dark Haven yourself.
"Kayden—go to Principality City. Find Sister Taru in the Citadel of the Sisterhood. Tell her what's happened to Carina. Bring her to Dark Haven—by magic or by our means, I don't care so long as it's quick."
Both men bowed low and left immediately. Two large wolves padded up beside Jonmarc: Yestin and Eiria. They took up an unmistakably protective position near Carina.
"It's like this throughout the town—all dead, and all posed." Gabriel's fist clenched. "Uri's playing with us. He wants war because he's sure he can win. He's wrong."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Burn the village. There was an outbreak of disease here—the young man told Neirin that most of the village was too sick to leave their homes. No one will question it if we say the plague took them and that we had to burn their possessions. We owe them a decent burial. A pyre will hide the death wounds, buy us time. If we're fortunate, we can bring Uri to ground before he and his brood do any more damage. The cost is too high for all of us if war comes."
Jonmarc swallowed hard, looking through the shattered windows at the ruined village. "How many?" he asked hoarsely.
"Neirin said that the messenger told Carina sixty people lived here," Gabriel said tightly. "Plus Carina's guards."
Seventy dead, Jonmarc thought. How many wars have started over less? He looked back to where Carina lay. Goddess! I want to fight. I want revenge. I want to feel the satisfaction of destroying the ones who did this. I've got to keep my head. If I take revenge, the truce will shatter. I know that there are honorable vayash moru. I know that Gabriel and Lais-ren and the others are as angry as I am. But many mortals won't make distinctions. Dark Lady help me! I can't, I won't be the cause of that.
"Let's get started," Jonmarc said.
The task was done by midnight. Jonmarc saw the same warring emotions in the faces of his guards that he felt within himself. Vayash moru, suddenly unsure that their bonds of friendship with their mortal comrades would be enough to transcend the carnage. Mortal soldiers, overwhelmed with anger and grief, wishing for a target to strike. That Jonmarc and Gabriel worked side by side throughout the night set the tone, and the night progressed without incident.
They laid the bodies in the inn, and set it to burn. Then, they burned the other homes and businesses. As the flames rose against the night sky, Laisren closed his eyes and began to sing, his baritone voice rising in a dirge. Other voices rose with his, clear and strong in the bitter night air. They walked back to where Carina lay bundled on the snow, still guarded by Yestin and Eiria. Jonmarc swung up onto his horse.
"Hand her to me. I'll carry her back," he said to Gabriel.
Gabriel hesitated. "If I'm wrong, if they found a way to bring her across despite her magic, then if she awakens suddenly, she'll hunger. She'll be too driven by thirst to spare you. It's too risky."
"I'll take my chances."
A full courtyard met them when they returned to Dark Haven, despite the hour. Word had spread about Carina's disappearance, although Jonmarc fervently hoped that the guards had kept silent about the body at the gates. The crowd fell silent as Jonmarc dismounted, carrying Carina in his arms. One look at his expression and they parted wordlessly, only to buzz in hushed tones behind him as he ascended the entrance stairs into the manor. Yestin and Eiria flanked him, refusing to leave his side until they were inside the manor house.
When they reached Carina's rooms, Lisette was waiting. She ran to Jonmarc, gently taking Carina from him, lifting her easily with immortal strength. "I'll get her cleaned up and put to bed."
"Riqua will be here shortly," Gabriel said. "We can cover distances swiftly when the need arises. It takes a toll, but she'll have the chance to rest when she gets here. Royster's close enough that Jess can bring him without great strain. As for Taru," Gabriel shrugged. "Mages have their own ways to travel, and their own limitations. The time it takes her to recover after the power she spends will still be less than the time to ride from Principality City in this weather."
Jonmarc sat down in a chair facing the fire. Now that the battle was over, emotion overwhelmed him. He sat, hands clasped, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs staring into the fire, giving in to shock and grief.
Finally, he looked up at Gabriel, who leaned against the wall in the shadows near the fireplace. "If you're wrong," he said, and his voice faltered. He swallowed hard and went on. "If they've brought her across, I have a favor to ask of you, my friend."
He knew, looking at Gabriel's eyes, that the vayash moru took his meaning immediately.
Gabriel shook his head slowly, and Jonmarc saw pain in his expression. "Would you be a slave again? My slave? That's what a fledgling is, for many lifetimes." Old memories flickered in his eyes. "That's why I haven't made any new fledges in more than one hundred years."
"I told her that I'd come for her. I won't leave her."
The doors opened into Carina's bedroom. "She's resting," Lisette said. Jonmarc walked to the doorway. Carina lay in a fresh shift under the bedcovers. She was pale against the pillow, with her hands by her sides like the carving atop a catafalque.
In the courtyard, the bells tolled the second hour of the morning. Riqua entered, followed by Royster. "Jess told us what happened at the village." Her voice hardened. "I spoke with Laisren and Kolin. They've gone to find Uri. We must convene the Blood Council."
"The Blood Council means nothing without its members' resolve," Gabriel said, and Jonmarc could hear the undercurrent of anger in his voice. "Uri may get the war he's wanted— and Goddess help us if he does. I no longer expect the Council to make a difference."
Riqua took a deep breath. "Agreed. So we must make our own way." She looked to Jonmarc. "Royster brought the books he could throw in his bag. Kolin will fetch whatever we need. If there is a way to heal Carina, we'll find it."
Taru arrived before the next candlemark. She looked drained, but waved away concerns. After a hurried greeting, she joined Royster and Riqua to huddle over Royster's books.
Outside, the bells tolled the third hour. Jon-marc dozed fitfully in a chair near the fire, while Gabriel and the others kept their vigil. Lisette drew the heavy draperies in Carina's room. In the darkness of the inner chambers, the vayash moru could work into the late morning before needing to take their rest.
Taru and Royster continued to work after the vayash moru went to rest, conferring in low tones. Jonmarc paced or stared at the fire. No one spoke.
Just after sunset, Laisren and Kolin burst in, dragging Uri between them. They pushed the corpulent little man into the room.
"I demand to know what's going on! This is an outrage! I promise you, we won't stand for this!" Uri sputtered.
Riqua moved in a blur, shoving Uri hard with both hands against his chest, throwing him so hard against the paneled wall that a nearby painting crashed to the floor. "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
With a growl, the she-wolf tackled Uri, knocking him to the ground, her teeth grazing his throat.
"Eiria, no!" Riqua shouted.
The she-wolf bared her teeth to strike. Before she could go for Uri's throat, the 'male wolf lunged. Yestin blocked her, growling dangerously.
Goddess help us. Eiria's lost control of her shifting. Jonmarc thought as the wolves circled each other. Eiria lunged again, opening a bad gash on Yestin's shoulder. He howled in pain, nipping back at her. Her bite connected on the next strike, sinking into his foreleg. With a growl, Yestin launched himself at Eiria, teeth bared. He knocked her to the ground and pinned her with his heavy paws. With a yelp, she surrendered and struggled free, running from the room. Yestin followed.
Kolin and Laisren dragged Uri to his feet and threw him into a chair. "First the shepherds. Now an entire village."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Uri's fear was plain. "What village?"
"Everyone in Westormere is dead," Riqua said, advancing on Uri. "Every man, woman and child. Vayash moru killings. They didn't even bother to drain most of the bodies. They posed them in some obscene tableau—"
"Malesh," Uri whispered. "He calls it his 'art.'"
"Where's Malesh?" Gabriel demanded.
"How should I know?"
Riqua slapped Uri across the cheek hard enough to snap a mortal's spine. "He's your fledgling. Young enough for you to know his thoughts. Where is he?"
Uri wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture that was a memory from his mortal life, since no blood flowed from his split lip. "How should I know?"
Riqua reached out with her right hand to grasp Uri by the throat and dragged him to his feet. One by one, her manicured nails sank into his neck on either side of his windpipe. Uri gasped and twisted. " Vayash moru slaughtered the people of Westormere tonight. Seventy mortals murdered. I want Malesh to pay."
"I told you," Uri rasped, "I don't know where he is. He's been dabbling in blood magic. Most of it doesn't work—he's no mage—but he must have bought a talisman to shield his thoughts. I haven't been able to read him for months now." "And you didn't destroy him when he betrayed you like that?"
Uri looked pale even by vayash moru standards. "I thought he might come around." "Did you send Malesh to Westormere?" "No. You have to believe me. I didn't know." "Malesh tried to bring across Lady Carina." Uri frowned. "That won't work. She's a healer."
Riqua's voice was icy. "She's in the next room, neither living, dead nor undead, because of him." She reached for Uri again and he cringed, flattening himself against the wall. This time, her hand slid inside his brocade doublet, digging her nails into the silk shirt above his heart. "You're going to bring your cur to heel, Uri. Find Malesh and destroy him." Uri's voice was plaintive. "I don't think I can." Riqua's lip twitched. "Have it your way. You wanted to leave the Council, so you leave behind your protection as a member. You want to break the truce, then become the first martyr of the new order. There's not a mortal or vayash moru in the manor who would fault us if we burn you at dawn for what's happened." She raised her fingertips to brush against Uri's face as he flinched away. "Do you remember the feel of sunlight on your skin?"
"Enough!" Panic tinged Uri's voice. "I'll go after Malesh. I'll go. Just don't burn me."
Riqua's expression was remorseless. "Until you destroy Malesh, my brood and yours are bloodsworn. My brood will destroy yours on sight. You and yours will be hunted and outcast among our kind."
"I share the oath." Gabriel took a step forward. "My family will also be bloodsworn with Riqua's. We will join the hunt."
Uri fell to his knees before Riqua and clutched at the hem of her skirt. "Please spare them," he begged. "Malesh has at most two score of his own fledglings. Most of the brood isn't like him. Please, don't destroy my children." He looked to the stony faces of the others in the room.
Riqua snatched her skirts out of his grasp. Uri covered his face with his hands, groaning in fear and distress, denied the ability to weep by the Dark Gift. "Don't look to them for pity," Riqua said coldly. "They saw the slaughter. They burned the bodies." She nodded, and Laisren and Kolin stepped forward, each grabbing one of Uri's arms and hauling him roughly to his feet with enough force to have dislocated a mortal's shoulders.
"Understand this. I won't allow the Winter Kingdoms to return to a time when we hide in sewers and live in fear. We'll exterminate every one of your brood if we have to, but we won't let the truce die."
Uri was shaking. "I'll find Malesh. I'll stop him. But please, spare the others. I beg of you."
"No one spared Westormere." It was Jonmarc who spoke. Grief and rage drove out any ability to feel fear. "I made an oath to Staden to protect everyone in Dark Haven—mortal or not. But I'm not speaking as Lord of Dark Haven right now. Malesh tried to kill Carina." Jonmarc drew his sword, angling the point at Uri's heart.
"You have no idea how much satisfaction I'd get out of running you through. All your bluster gave Malesh his ideas. You're just as guilty." Jonmarc let Uri feel the pressure of the tip of the sword over his doublet. "I can't go after your brood—not without starting reprisals. But I want Malesh. Bring the ones who massacred the people in Westormere for judgment."
"Give me two days," Uri begged.
At Riqua's nod, Laisren and Kolin released Uri. "Two days."