Willing Sacrifice Page 9

  She rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake. If you two think that’s true, then you’re both messed up in the head.”

  “You would protect him?” asked Brenya.

  “I’m just telling the truth. I stepped off that cliff of my own free will. Even if Torr had wanted to stop me, he couldn’t have. End of story.”

  Brenya’s face turned a furious shade of red. She lifted her hand in a demand for silence. “I do not want to hear more. I already know too much.” She touched Grace’s ankle, and the swelling and bruising disappeared.

  Brenya leaned on the edge of the cot, sagging.

  “Are you okay?” asked Torr as Grace said, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I did what I must,” said Brenya. “Now go and help see to dinner.”

  Grace lowered her head. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  Brenya waved her away. The second the door shut, she turned on Torr. “That woman nearly died to save you once. Did you not think she would do it again?”

  “She saved me before because she loved me. She doesn’t even know me now. I never thought she’d willingly throw herself off a cliff.”

  “You make excuses?”

  “Of course not. But I can’t see the future. I can’t predict what crazy things she or anyone else might do.”

  “There is no need for magic to predict her actions. She places the value of all others above her own. I am furious that you allowed her to be damaged, but she would have done the same for anyone. I would call her reckless, but her actions are too precise for that.”

  “So she’s done this before?”

  “Never from a cliff.” Brenya lowered herself into a chair. “But yes.” She let out a tired sigh. “I have never known a soul like hers. Genuinely selfless with no thought of her own wants or needs. No thought of reward or praise.” She looked up at Torr, and her eyes were raging with silent, leaden waves. “If we had more creatures like her on our side, the war against the Synestryn would be over, victory assured.”

  “There is no one else like Grace.”

  Brenya gave a sad nod. “I know. Forged in pain, tempered by fear, polished by years of selfless service. She is a unique and rare creation, unbreakable by anyone but herself.”

  “So you know what happened to her?” Torr knew she’d had a troubled life, but it was something they’d never talked about. Whenever any conversation started leading them toward the topic, Grace had deftly steered it in a different direction.

  “I do. Those memories of her childhood are part of me now. I wish they were not.”

  “Tell me,” he demanded. Grace’s silence about herself had always bothered him. Even her stepbrother refused to talk. All Torr knew was that their lives had been bad. Until now, he hadn’t even realized how bad.

  But that was Grace. She wouldn’t give anyone pain if she could avoid it—even her own pain.

  “No, young Theronai. They are not mine to give. And even if I could, you would not want them.”

  “I want to know her. All of her. Even the bad parts.”

  “For what purpose?”

  He tried to think of something noble, but every answer he came up with was selfish. The truth was that he wanted her all to himself in every way he could have her. Even though he knew he was wrong for her. Even though he knew he would only cause her pain. “I should let her go, but I don’t know how. I love her.”

  “I could make you forget her.”

  Fury blasted him from the inside, making his voice come out in hot, seething rage. “Try and I will kill you.”

  Brenya lifted a trembling hand. “Settle, Theronai. I am too weary to carry the love of another soul. I only meant to test your resolve.”

  “Test me? Why?”

  “Because I know our sweet Grace. Her desire to serve is too strong to deny. She will find a way to fight by your side, whether or not either of us allows it.”

  “Why would she need to fight? We killed the Hunters.”

  “Not all of them.”

  “You weren’t even there. How could you know what we did?”

  “I touched Grace. Her memories naturally flow into me. I saw what she did, and the beasts you killed were only two.”

  “So there are more out there.”

  “I have no idea how many the Masons created. What I do know is that the Hunters’ numbers will grow until the Masons complete the portal and you destroy all that remain.”

  “What does the portal look like? I can go find it and see how close to completion it is.”

  “Finding it will not be difficult, though it is imperative that you do so before the Masons finish construction of it so we know if the Solarc sends through more of his minions. What you should be asking is how to destroy it once the Masons leave. That is the tricky part.”

  “Okay. How do I destroy it?”

  “There are explosively powerful crystals on this planet. When I came here, I encased them in stone to keep them safe, keep them cool. The Hunters you encountered—the Masons formed them from this stone.”

  “That’s why they were so cold.”

  “The cold keeps the crystals stable.”

  “And if the Masons are using that stone, then it’s weakening the protection you put in place. Tell me that’s not dangerous.”

  “Of course it is, but it will also make your task easier.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Those crystals are powerful enough to destroy whatever portal the Masons may construct. You will need to collect some of them. If the Masons have already chipped away at the encasement, your work is nearly done for you.”

  “How will I keep the crystals from exploding once I get them out of the stone?”

  She bent and retrieved a box from beneath her bed. “This will keep the crystals cool.”

  The outside of the carved box was wet with condensation. Torr took the box from Brenya, wiped away the drops and opened the tiny latch. The work was intricate, engraved with twisting vines and leaves that reminded him of his sword’s hilt. Inside, the box was lined with gleaming black stone. Frost formed across the shiny surface the instant it came in contact with the humid air.

  He shut the lid and fastened the latch.

  “What happens if the crystals get hot?”

  She gave him a hard, warning stare. “Do not allow that. The energy the explosion puts out might not kill you, but it would certainly kill any animals or humans nearby within minutes.”

  Including Grace. “Got it. Only one last thing I need to know. Where do I find the crystals?”

  Brenya sighed with weary acceptance, and instantly Torr understood.

  “Grace knows, doesn’t she?”

  “Parts of me remain inside of her, filling the voids my healing left behind.”

  “Why fill them with anything?”

  “Emptiness is unnatural. It will be filled with something, and I did not want that something to be chosen by another. I thought the knowledge I gave her harmless at the time. There was no fear attached to it, only cold fact. She does not even know it is there within her, sleeping, as all of the memories I gave her are.”

  “So I have to take one of you out there with me, don’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re too weak to go hiking around the woods.”

  “No, but I am needed here to keep the others safe—to keep the Hunters at bay.”

  “So Grace has to go—the woman who stepped off a cliff today, hoping she remembered correctly that there was a ledge beneath to stop her fall.”

  “You understand the situation well, young Theronai.”

  “How am I supposed to keep her from tossing herself into a volcano or jumping into shark-infested waters?”

  “That is the puzzle you must solve. It is one of the reasons why I brought you here.”

  “Because you knew I’d protect Grace with my life?”

  “Any of your kind would have done that much. Your vows demand it.”

  “Then why choose me? Was it beca
use I was the only one you could summon?”

  “No, there are others at my command.”

  “Then why me? If Grace will sacrifice herself for anyone, and the Sentinels would protect her at all costs, why me?”

  “Because you deserve the honor. I saw you through Grace’s memories, and you alone are worthy of any sacrifice she might make.”

  Sacrifice? Hell, no. “I don’t care what she knows. She’s staying here. I’ll find a way to locate the portal without her help. I’m not letting her risk her life for me again.”

  “You will do as I command.”

  “Or what?”

  The thrashing waves in her eyes kicked up and she seemed to grow larger. Power radiated out from her, making him realize that as weak as she might appear, it was all relative. Brenya was still strong enough to squish him flat. “Do not push me, Theronai. I lived with the Solarc for millennia. I have learned how to inflict pain.”

  “You’re bluffing. You’re not going to kill Grace, and since I know that, I also know there’s nothing you can do to me. Nothing would hurt worse than when I thought I’d lost her.”

  “Your lack of imagination makes you reckless.”

  “I’m not going to risk Grace, no matter how scary you think you are.”

  “If you do not obey, I will take every beautiful memory of Grace you possess and tear it to shreds. I will steal your love for her and burn it to ash. And then, each day, I will give you back what you lost—the memories, the love—just long enough for you to remember what you are about to lose all over again. You will suffer her loss each day and never know why you weep, why you rage. You will live without her, except for the moments when you know that you will have to live without her again. Over and over.”

  Torr couldn’t even imagine such a thing. As many twisted things as he’d seen, he’d never witnessed a torment so complete and devastating. “If you do that, I’ll be useless. One less warrior to fight your battles.”

  “Not useless. An example. A warning to others to obey my commands.”

  “You’d really do that?”

  “I hold the fate of entire worlds in my hands. Countless souls. What I do here is vital. I will not allow you or any other creature to get in my way, even if that means I become like the one I despise most.”

  “If I take Grace out there with me, she could die.”

  “If you do not, we all die. Including Grace.”

  Torr searched for some way out but found none. The crushing blow of acceptance left him feeling weak and diminished. “Then I guess I have no choice.”

  Her face sagged with weary sadness. “In that, we are the same.”

  “I won’t forget this,” Torr warned.

  “See that you do not. My next lesson will not be so gentle.” She pushed herself out of her chair, her body shaking with the effort. “Now go and prepare what you need to survive in the wilderness while I prepare Grace to find the crystals. You will leave at dawn.”

  Chapter 11

  Grace didn’t dare ignore Brenya’s summons.

  She grabbed a bowl of stew and hurried through the village, pretending there was no tingling in her ankle. There was no pain or weakness left, but healing was an exhausting process that doubtless strained Brenya’s already weakened state.

  The dimness of the hut blinded her for a moment. She stood still, aware of the piles of books and trinkets crowding the space.

  Brenya’s dwelling was the largest, but she’d filled it until there was hardly any room to move around without knocking something over. From the aged patina that darkened the metal, leather and paper objects in the hut, Grace guessed that most of the items Brenya kept were ancient and priceless.

  “I brought you dinner,” Grace said as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

  The space smelled of the spices and herbs Brenya used to concoct various potions, soaps and salves. In the back of Grace’s mind, she knew that there were places to buy those things, but she couldn’t remember ever seeing any. That was something from her old life, unimportant in the here and now.

  “Sit,” ordered Brenya with a snap in her tone that had Grace scurrying to obey.

  She set the bowl of soup on the only clear surface in the hut, right at Brenya’s elbow. The chair across the small table was filled with stacks of rolled paper, so Grace settled on the floor at Brenya’s feet.

  She waved her hand toward the chair. “Sit there, child.”

  Grace stood to move the paper, only to find that it had vanished. She didn’t ask where it had gone. The mood Brenya was in was one Grace knew too well, and the sooner she was able to leave, the better.

  The older woman leaned back in her chair and set down the book she’d been holding. It looked like the pages were blank, but she didn’t have a pen or ink, so Grace had no idea what it was for.

  “You will travel with Torr to find a weapon to fight the invasion.”

  The mention of the stranger’s name sent a frisson of excitement racing down Grace’s spine. Her stomach trembled as it had when he’d carried her back to the village. She had to lock her fingers together to keep from fidgeting.

  She didn’t know what it was about him that made her feel so odd, but she was starting to enjoy it. The mere idea of seeing him again was enough to make her squirm in her seat with anticipation.

  Rather than ask when or why, Grace sat silently, waiting for Brenya to finish giving her orders.

  “You will leave at dawn. You are not to walk off of any more cliffs or scare the young warrior again. His heart has already been battered enough.”

  “How?” asked Grace before she could stop herself. The need to know more about him had overpowered her better judgment, and she winced, waiting for Brenya to punish her for interrupting.

  “Does it matter? Is it not enough to know that his soul is bruised and that you should do everything in your power to soothe it rather than add to his pain?”

  “Of course, Brenya. I’m sorry.”

  “Males are powerful, but they are also delicate. Their pride is easily damaged. You must take care not to injure it, or you will rile the beast within.”

  Genuine fear took hold of her, tightening her throat until her words were pitiful squeaks. “I won’t let him hurt me. I’ll run, far and fast.”

  “Torr would never hurt you, child. Not in the way you mean. But, like all males of his kind, he carries a predator within. A fierce protector who will not allow his woman to put herself in danger. That is the beast you must be wary of—the one that will bare its teeth and cage you for your own safety.”

  Grace heard all the words, but two of them echoed in her mind, over and over. “I’m not his woman.” The idea was compelling. Thrilling. But also impossible.

  Brenya paused, as if thinking carefully about her words before she spoke. “For the purpose of this journey, he will treat you as such. I would demand no less from your protector.”

  “Are you sure he will agree?”

  “He will do as I command. As will you.” Even as weary as Brenya looked, she still reeked of power—power Grace would probably never understand.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Torr will guide you through the journey, but it will be your job to seek the portal the Masons build even now. Once you find it and are sure the Masons have left this world, you will destroy it.”

  “I will? How?”

  “There is a place on the far side of the southern village. In it are large black stones. Deep within those stones are the weapons you need to destroy the portal.”

  “Is there a map?”

  Brenya leaned forward and grasped the sides of Grace’s face in her hands. Her skin was warm and dry, like sunlit parchment. A familiar scent lingered on her shaggy clothes, lulling Grace into a drowsy, relaxed state.

  “You already have the map, child. I gave it to you years ago, never once thinking I would need to awaken it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. I had hoped to save you from what I took from
you, but it was not to be. There can be no voids in you. They are unnatural and must be filled.”

  Grace frowned and tried to shake her head, but Brenya’s grip held her still. “What voids?”

  “Once I awaken the knowledge you need, the hole it once filled will be empty. You will reopen the memory that used to live in that hole. For that I am truly sorry.”

  Power seethed just below Brenya’s skin. Grace could feel it thrashing against her, seeking entrance. Her head started to throb, and her stomach lurched with sickening intent.

  She grabbed Brenya’s hands, trying to pry them away from her head, but it was no use. The older woman was too strong, despite her fragile appearance.

  “Stop,” begged Grace. “You’re scaring me.”

  Brenya’s eyes brightened, frothing and frosty. “You are not yet scared, child. But you will be.”

  Chapter 12

  Grace hid in the pantry, covering her stepbrother’s mouth. Soapsuds dripped from her fingers, making Blake’s skin slippery.

  She’d been washing dishes when her stepfather had sloshed up the driveway, taking out one of Mom’s rosebushes. There hadn’t been time to dry her hands before Mom shoved her and Blake into hiding, fearing the worst.

  “He won’t find you if you’re quiet,” Mom said.

  The fight started like it always did. His voice raised in anger, Mom’s quiet with humble apology for something she probably hadn’t even done.

  Grace wanted to shout at him and force him to back the hell off, but she was a scrawny fourteen-year-old and completely outclassed. Jerry Norman was strong when he was sober. Drunk, he was strong and mean.

  The fight escalated until his enraged bellowing took over, nearly drowning out the sound of fists meeting flesh, toppled furniture and muffled, hopeless sobs. One more loud clatter and the house fell silent.

  Grace quivered in fear and anger, physically restraining Blake from rushing out after Mom. When Jerry was like this, there was nothing a seven-year-old could do but accumulate more bruises and broken bones.

  Footsteps came closer, too loud to be Mom’s. The refrigerator opened, spilling a sliver of light in through the gap under the pantry door. There was the hiss of a beer being opened and the metallic clatter of the cap hitting the floor. Heavy footsteps went back the way they’d come.