Rage--A Stormheart Novel Page 3

  Speaking of Sly, he looked around for the quietest member of their group and found her at the edge of the trees, one of the bags of trade goods already in her arms. He looked down to where he had set the third bag at his feet. Sure enough, it was gone, and he had never noticed a thing.

  “Well?” the dark-skinned, stealthy hunter asked. “Are we ready?”

  “Almost. Be careful out there. We do not know exactly what we are walking into. Do not go off alone. If someone feels off, get out of there. We can always go back to certain people or areas with larger numbers. Be careful with your questions. Do not push too hard too fast or we might draw the wrong kind of attention. Just glean what you can without being too obvious. When you are done, come back here, but make certain you are not followed.”

  Jinx slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Good speech, Kiran.” His new name, or old name, rather, had been an adjustment, but Roar and Jinx had pretty much drilled the rest of the crew into using it. Jinx handed her bag off to Ransom, gave Kiran a silly salute, and set off through the trees.

  He watched his friends disperse, and Bait gave him a wave, no doubt grumbling beneath his breath as he climbed inside the Rock. Finally, Kiran let himself turn to look at Roar. She had been silent through the entire conversation, but that did not mean he could not feel her, her presence as charged and powerful as the storm she held inside her.

  “You ready?”

  She did not look ready. She looked … pale. But again, he bit his tongue, knowing what she would say if he commented. She would make some joke to put him at ease, or find something to poke at him with to shift the conversation. And he knew that kind of pretending took energy he did not want her to waste. So he simply offered her his hand. She stood, taking it, and he grasped the bag of goods with his other hand.

  Their walk to the remnant camp was slow, in part because they had chosen their own spot a significant distance away, but also because Roar did not seem to be in a hurry. He watched her take deep breaths, and knew she was working hard mentally to set up barriers as they had discussed the night before. Duke and Jinx and Sly had all weighed in with advice, and Roar seemed confident that she could do a better job today of shutting out what she felt from the souls around them.

  He could not imagine what she was dealing with right now. The thing he despised most about storm hunting was the possibility that his mind might be manipulated by a storm’s magic. That loss of control terrified him. But it was very, very rare that he faced a storm strong enough to catch him off guard. Roar, by contrast, was under siege constantly. The threat of that kind of invasion into one’s vulnerabilities would be exhausting one time, let alone in endless stampedes.

  Gods, she was strong. It was no wonder he loved her. He had never stood any chance.

  When the city came into view, and the camp along with it, he finally broke their silence. “Before we get there, is there anything in particular you want to ask about?” He cleared his throat and added, “Anyone?”

  She paused, her steps faltering. “What do you mean?”

  He sighed. “There has to be some reason we are back here, Roar. I am trying not to pressure you. But you have to know how dangerous a situation we have walked into. I assume there is someone inside the city who you worry is caught up in this danger. Am I right?”

  Roar’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, worrying it back and forth. Finally, she said, “It is complicated. But yes, yes that is part of it. My mother is inside.”

  Kiran’s jaw went slack, and he gaped at her. “Your mother?” He had always assumed she was orphaned in some way, like the rest of the crew. He did not know why. She had never said anything outright about her parents. But he had gotten the impression that she had been in quite dire straits before she ran away, essentially on her own.

  Roar nodded, and his thoughts finally managed to catch up to the situation. He released her hand to cup the back of her neck and pull her in to the side of his chest. “Oh, princess. You should have said. We will get you to your mother.”

  Her face crumpled into a painful expression, and he did not know what to do except hold her tighter. So he did. And after too short a time, he pulled away and said, “Let’s go make some new friends.”

  * * *

  If Aurora thought it had been difficult to concentrate before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now with the aching pit of guilt roiling in her belly. She had not technically lied. She was desperate to get inside the city and find out what happened to her mother, hopefully find the woman herself, if she was still alive. But it did not feel like any less of a deceit when Kiran had taken her in his arms, looking sorry to have pushed her on the subject.

  She was a terrible human. A terrible, awful, selfish human. All of this—it was her fault. She looked at the remnants around her, wondering how things might have been different if she had stayed. Would these poor people be out here, vulnerable and afraid, if it were not Locke flags flying atop the castle walls?

  The terrible truth was … she did not know.

  Oh, she hoped things would have been different. That her mother, that she would never have let it get this far. But then Aurora remembered the multitude of reasons why she left in the first place—including all those papers she found on her mother’s desk, fines and expulsions over minor infractions, the piles and piles of denied applications for citizenship. It all seemed so very cold and cruel, and nothing like what she had naively thought her kingdom to be.

  But she had a chance to make a difference now, even if it was only in a small way.

  Aurora broke away from Kiran to approach a group of women who were watching a few small children play in the dirt. The little ones were resourceful; they had made toys from branches and rocks, knotting them together with twine to create figurines, and they were using them to fight, creating the sounds of what sounded like thunder and wind with their chapped mouths.

  Aurora stepped closer to the women and raised a hand in greeting. “Hello. May I sit with you?”

  The women looked at her, silent for a long moment, but eventually one of them nodded, and Aurora took a spot on a medium-sized rock that seemed to have been hauled to this spot for just such a purpose.

  “We only just arrived,” Aurora told them. At this, their eyes left her to gaze above her head, to where she guessed Kiran had taken up sentry. “We came very far. We have not heard much news of what has happened here. Have you all been here long?”

  Aurora was unsure if she was going to get an answer, but then one of the children distracted her with an incredibly dramatic roar. He threw himself back in the dirt with his toy, flailing and yelling in as deep a tone as he could manage. The girl across from him held her hands up high in victory, declaring, “I have defeated the Stormlord!”

  One of the other women jumped up quickly, taking the little girl by the arm and shushing her firmly. The atmosphere grew tense, as though the mere mention of his name might bring a tempest down upon them.

  The children, however, were oblivious. As soon as the woman returned to her seat, they carried on playing, though this time in quieter tones. One or two would pretend to be storms while the others fought them off with the help of their homemade toys.

  Aurora smiled, knowing exactly how it felt to play such a game. When she was little, her older brother used to pretend to be a twister, spinning around her ominously, sometimes even catching her up in his arms and whirling her around as fast as he could. Eventually though, he would always let her win.

  An old, familiar ache opened up at the thought of her brother, stinging at the fresh exposure. She missed him, would always miss him, but after all this time, there were so few memories she could remember clearly.

  “Weeks,” a velvety-smooth voice said beside her, and they had sat so long in silence that it took Aurora a moment to realize the woman was answering her question. “We have been here near three weeks.”

  Aurora swallowed hard. Three weeks? And nothing had been done to help them? No one had provided them
with shelter or let them inside the city? Did that mean the Lockes had been in control for at least that long? Or was she right in her earlier fears? Could her mother have still been in control when this started?

  “Weeks. Wow. You must know quite a lot then.”

  The woman shrugged. “Nothing to know. With the storms how they are, the best we can do is be as close to the Stormlings as possible.”

  Aurora nodded. “Right. It’s awful how many villages have been destroyed. Did you live nearby?”

  “In the lower plains,” she answered. “Between Odilar and Pavan.” That made sense. From what they had heard, the Stormlord seemed to have laid a path of destruction from Locke up toward Pavan, lingering especially in those areas where Locke soldiers were patrolling. Of course, it was her those soldiers had been searching for—yet another stone of blame that weighed upon her chest.

  “Had you been to Pavan before?” Aurora asked. “I heard rumors about a power change or something along those lines. Something to do with the Stormlings. Do you know anything about that?”

  The woman stiffened a little and looked around, but after a moment, she seemed satisfied enough to say, “That was before our arrival, but yes, it is true. The Lockes are the Stormlings in these parts now.”

  Aurora’s heartbeat was a riot in her chest, as though it only now realized how very close she was to the life, and the man, she had run from not long ago. An image of Cassius Locke rose in her mind—dark and menacing and unforgiving. Her mental barriers faltered, and she felt the press of thousands of other souls against her own, abrasive and clingy all at the same time.

  It was not new information, that the Lockes had taken over Pavan, but the way the woman said it, with such matter-of-factness, as though the two families were simply interchangeable, gutted Aurora. She fought down the urge to push for as many details as possible, and instead took a moment to look to Kiran and the bag he carried.

  “We brought some goods to share.” She looked back to the group of women. “Some fruits and vegetables.”

  Finally, one of the other women spoke up, the one who had shushed the little girl before. “What is the catch? What do you want for it?” Her hair was blond, though not the bright, skyfire-white of Aurora’s hair, more the golden color of straw. Aurora self-consciously touched the scarf that wrapped her own head, making certain her hair was still hidden, even though she had been extremely careful this morning to tuck it all tightly away.

  “No catch, other than company. As I said, we have traveled far.” Aurora could tell the woman still did not believe her, so she reached back, plucking a clump of fresh berries still on a vine. “I promise. I think the children will like these.” She held the berries out in offering. But when the women still hesitated, she plucked off a berry for herself, popping it in her mouth and letting the flavor burst between her teeth.

  Then the first woman, the only one who had spoken openly with her, reached out and took the offered berries. She gave a sharp whistle, and the heads of multiple children popped up from where they were at play. They all came running over when she held up the berries, shrill peals of excitement carrying along in their wake.

  “What is your name?” Aurora asked the woman.

  “Nazara,” she said, plucking berries off the vine to hand out to the children. “And you?”

  Aurora hesitated, no longer sure which name to give, but stuck with, “You can call me Roar.”

  It wasn’t until the berries had all been divvied up that she realized that hidden amongst the small group of children was the lingering spirit of a child the same age. She froze, waiting to see what the spirit would do, but it did not seem to be concerned with her. Instead, it watched the other children eating berries with a sad, simple longing that made tears prick at her eyes.

  Needing a distraction, she turned back to Kiran, gesturing for him to hand over the bag. His mouth pressed into a reluctant line, but he gave it to her. “This is Kiran, my…” She trailed off, completely at a loss for what to label him. Friend seemed far too trivial, partner did not reach deep enough for what she felt, but every other word that came to mind felt too personal.

  “Husband,” Kiran supplied, settling on the ground beside her and nodding to the women.

  Aurora could feel her cheeks heat and dared not look at him, simply smiling at the women as though he had not just shocked her to her very core.

  He had probably chosen the word because it was the least suspect explanation for why the two of them would be traveling together. Better that than play her brother. But still, the word crept beneath her skin and made her shiver. Did he want that? Part of her wanted him to want that. But it only made her feel more guilty for all the secrets she was keeping.

  They stayed with the women for the next hour, cooking vegetables over a small fire. They shared a small meal as they spoke. Kiran took over the questioning for a while, his protective side coming through as he asked about the guards—how many there were, how often they patrolled, if any of them were dangerous.

  The women were reluctant to speak about the last, but did offer Roar one piece of advice. “Do not be caught anywhere alone with one of them.”

  They did not have to give specifics for her to understand what kind of danger that implied; she could guess.

  Nazara added, “And if the prince visits, it is best to be wary.”

  Aurora’s mouth went uncomfortably dry. “The prince?”

  “He wants us to leave,” one of the other women volunteered. “He will arrest you or worse if you give him reason.”

  The guilt inside Aurora began to boil into anger. Bloody skies, the world should not be this way. Her home should not be this way. It was not fair. If she did not already despise Cassius Locke, this would be more than enough. These women, these children, they deserved so much better. They deserved compassion at the very least, dignity and respect. They deserved—

  Her walls shattered in one terrifying crash, and she was bombarded with hundreds upon hundreds of different sensations at once—none of them her own. She gasped for breath, struggling to stay afloat in the deluge. She tried to focus on one thing, picking the spirit of the little boy who was right in front of her now. He was sad but curious; she saw in his thoughts that he had been hovering among the other children while they played, hoping that somehow he might feel some of what they felt. It hadn’t worked. He had not felt joy in so long.

  She wanted to give him that; she tried, but there was another presence smothering her—sickly and dark, it latched on to her, and she felt the gruesome taint of its touch deep inside her.

  Destroy, it whispered, slithering deeper inside her.

  That was all the warning she got before the enchanted crystal she wore beneath her clothes burned blazing hot, and the sky cracked open with light overhead. Aurora did not know where the skyfire hit, only that it was nearby. The smell of char was sharp and sudden in the air, and the hair on the back of her neck rose in warning prickles.

  The dark soul pressed on her again, and before she could draw up the strength to re-form her walls, the world was thrown into chaos. People were running, sprinting, not caring what or whom they knocked over in the process. Kiran had ahold of her and was pulling her along, but she could hear children screaming, adults too. She tried to find Nazara and the others, but she was swept up in the tide of bodies now, all of them hurling themselves toward the city walls as more screams and cracks of thunder battled for supremacy.

  Smoke made the air hazy, and Aurora held onto Kiran as hard as she could as they were lost to the mercy of the crowd. Eventually, the people reached the walls and there was nowhere left to go, but they continued to push and climb on each other, each vying to get as close to the city as possible.

  She craned her head back to peer over her shoulder, and saw multiple streaks of skyfire strike the ground. This time, there was a burst of fire, not just smoke. The screams around her were hoarse with desperation, and bodies repeatedly slammed into her own, crushing her tightly into the pe
ople in front of her, who had nowhere to go. Kiran was shouting something at her, but she could not hear him, not over the rush of noise inside and outside her head. She had never felt such an outpouring of emotion—panic and fear and hatred and hopelessness. She felt like she might explode from the swell of it all. And all the while, that tainted soul was creeping closer and closer to her own. She could feel it, entangling itself inside her, and she wanted to be sick. She would not be the first—the stench of fear and urine and vomit was all around them, and it only worsened as the skyfire strikes grew closer and closer to the people huddling like rats for survival.

  Then, finally, something shifted in the air. The crushing pressure eased, and the dark spirit she had been struggling to push away felt a little farther removed. A strangely familiar swell of power filled the air. The next strike of skyfire hit an invisible barrier above them, and shattered like a glass star.

  Around her the screams turned to sobs, and the press of bodies eased, giving her room to take a deeper breath. Immediately, she went back to work on her shields, knowing she would not survive long this open and vulnerable to contact with the multitude of souls. She was not sure how much time had passed when she opened her eyes, but Kiran was still with her, even though most of the crowd had dispersed. The sky above looked a pale, innocent blue, as if it hadn’t just rained down such cruelty.

  Together, she and Kiran made their way back through what was left of the remnant camp. They did not bother searching out the bag of supplies. It had likely been trampled or burned, and if not, whoever found it was welcome to it.

  What Aurora needed now was …

  Well, she needed home.

  But home did not look or feel much like home anymore.

  She had Kiran though, and that was close. She leaned heavily into his side as they walked, wanting to run away to their tent and hide from the world and forget everything that had happened. But she knew she would never forget those screams. Not for as long as she lived.