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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In the end, Tia insists I burn the human bodies as well, destroying all the evidence of what happened here. First, though, she searches them for any clues as to who they are or who sent them. I’m too squeamish to watch, so I drag my bedroll out of my tent and make Jaimin sit on it.

“Tell me what’s wrong with you,” I order, and he sighs.

“I’m fine.”

I look him over. He’s still moving awkwardly, and his face is set. I can’t see any evidence of wounds, though, or broken bones. “No. You’re not.”

“It’s… complicated.” His gaze drifts away, then back. “How much do you know about healing?”

“I do stupid things and healers make them better,” I say, trying to coax a smile. His face doesn’t look right without that twinkle of amusement.

To my relief, his lips quirk. “Anything else?”

Uhhh… “Healers have different strengths, just like mages. Some need to use medicines to supplement their ability, while others are superstars who don’t even need to touch someone to identify the problem. That’s it, though. That’s all I know. Oh, and you can’t heal death. Because…” I sweep my hand at the ashes scattered around us.

He nods. “Okay. Everything in a human body gives off a particular resonance. Healers have the ability to sense that resonance. When something affects it, like an illness or a wound, the resonance changes, and it feels wrong to us. What we do is like?—”

“Retuning it?”

He makes a face. “That’s as good an analogy as any. But the ability to sense resonance is also why healers have such good natural shields. We form them in self-defense, because every changed resonance, every papercut or sniffle, is loud.”

I think that through. “To stick with the musical analogy, like hearing an out-of-tune instrument playing constantly?”

“Yes.” He nods. “You want to block your ears, because it reverberates through you until you feel it in your bones.”

“You’re not making this whole healer thing sound all that great,” I tell him honestly, and that earns me a chuckle.

“No, it is. It’s amazing. Because I get to tune all those instruments back to perfect health. But what I’m saying is… it can be uncomfortable, especially when you’re not prepared. And especially when there’s a lot of wounds. Injuries caused by violence hurt the most.”

I wince. “So Tia and me killing all these people hurt you?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. Not like you mean. What I’m feeling now is because I killed a man.”

Shock and horror are twin lightning strikes. “You were defending yourself!”

“It’s still anathema to every fiber of my being. My Talent wants me to heal, not kill. At the academy, we drill extensively in defensive fighting, because it’s better to know how to fight someone off, give them minor wounds and hope they run, than to accidentally kill them and face the backlash.”

“That’s what this is? Backlash?”

He nods.

“How does it work? It’s painful, obviously. But it doesn’t replicate the wound on your own body, or you’d be dead.”

“Nothing like that. Just pain, in every nerve I have. The worse the wound I inflict, the worse it feels.”

“Wait, so… if you accidentally scratched someone, it would cause you pain?” That’s fucked up. Does Master know about this?

“Not for a genuine accident. If I was doing something I knew could potentially cause harm and judged it worth the risk, then someone was injured or killed, that would hurt, but not like this. Intent is the main driver of backlash. To intentionally kill is the most painful.”

Involuntarily, I look across the clearing to his tent. Tia’s dragged the dead man out and is pulling the dagger from his chest. I avert my eyes before I can gag. “So you didn’t kill him accidentally?”

Jaimin grimaces. “I woke because something felt bad. The resonance was shrieking at me, the same way it did with the plague, only worse . Plague, for all its horror, is natural. Zombies are not. I was lying there, trying to count how many of them were here, when my tent was opened.” He takes a breath. “I sleep with my dagger. All healers do. People… Some people consider us easy targets. They’ve heard about backlash and think we can’t fight back.”

Holy gods. Holy fucking gods. I bite my tongue to keep from interrupting.

“I had mere seconds to decide what to do. I decided this mission—you and the stone—was the priority. I couldn’t risk a drawn-out tussle; couldn’t risk being killed. Couldn’t risk that I’d fight him off, but not wound him badly enough to stop him from causing more trouble. So I intentionally killed him.” He grimaces again. “I underestimated the backlash, though. I’ve never killed anyone before, not even accidentally. My plan was to help fight off the others, but…” He shrugs slightly. “Instead I was a liability after all.”

“You were not, ” I insist. “You took one down and looked after yourself. I only managed two, and I wasn’t dealing with incredible pain afterward. Let’s face it, without Tia, we’d have been in trouble.”

As if on cue, my twin calls, “Talon, come and deal with this.”

I help Jaimin to his feet, and we walk over to where she’s piled the five human bodies. It’s grotesque. “Can I use ordinary fire?”

“Can you make it hot enough to burn them completely, fast, and without spreading into the trees?” she counters. “I’d ask Leicht to do this, but I don’t want to set the whole eastern forest on fire.”

Damn her. Without another word, I set the bodies alight.

“What do we do now?” she asks as we watch the blaze. I rub my tired eyes.

“Can you ride?” I ask Jaimin. He nods immediately.

“Yes. I’ll feel better as time progresses.”

I’m not sure how much I trust that answer, having already heard that he put himself through unbearable pain for the sake of our mission. “Tia, how far was the next village?”

Tia winces. “About five or six miles.”

Jaimin and I both glare at her. “Do you mean that if we hadn’t stopped early, we would have made it there last night?”

“Yes,” she admits. “This is my fault. I wanted you to get more experience camping. This was a good opportunity, because it’s not too far from help and the campsite is excellent.” She shakes her head. “I also know better than to camp without someone standing watch. My commander would kill me.”

I don’t bother to forgive her. She can feel guilty for a while longer. This is good news, though—we can make it to the village within a few hours. Even if the innkeeper won’t open for us this late, at least we’ll be around other people who’ll hear us if we call for help.

I check in with the stone, realizing suddenly that it’s been silent since it woke me. At least… It was you who woke me, right?

~Yes~

Is riding for the village a good idea?

~Yes~

I frown. Are there more zombies in the vicinity?

~No~

That’s something, at least.

“Here’s the plan,” I say aloud. “I checked with our friend”—I pat my chest, where the pouch sits under my shirt—“and even though there aren’t any zombies around at the moment, our best option is to head for the village. If we can, we’ll get a room right away. If that’s not possible, we’ll find a stable or barn and hole up until morning, and then get a room. I need to report this attack to my master, and Jaimin needs some rest.”

“I’m fine,” he protests immediately.

“Yes, I know. But I’m in charge, and I say you rest. You can sense zombies, so you and the stone are our only chance of getting an early warning of attacks. We also need time to reevaluate our plans. Tia, did you find anything on them?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing but a few coins on the humans. I didn’t get a chance to check the others.”

I shudder at the very thought.

“Their weapons are in good shape, though, and excellent quality. I’ve put some aside to take with us. We need to get you both armed better.”

“How did they get here?” Jaimin asks suddenly. “We’re at least a mile from the nearest farm, even.”

“Closer to two,” Tia confirms slowly. “Hold on.” Her eyes go distant, the way they do when she’s talking to her dragon. “Leicht says there are no horses nearby.”

A chill races down my spine. “Is he sure? Maybe they’re hidden in the trees.”

She shrugs. “Maybe? It’s dark and we’ve been burning things. There’s a chance he just missed them.”

Overhead, Leicht roars a protest, and we all cringe.

“Well, since I’m not willing to go searching for horses that might not exist, let’s take his word for it,” I declare. If there are no horses nearby, the logical assumption would be that the attackers—human and zombie—walked. Which means they couldn’t have been that far from our camp. The stone said there were zombies loose throughout the continent, but I didn’t stop to consider what that meant.

“Strike camp?” Jaimin asks.

“Yes. It’s time to leave this place.” I glance up toward Leicht and catch sight of the moon. It’s surrounded by a clear ring of light, and I blink. “That’s unusual.”

Tia’s gaze follows mine, and she grunts. “Not that unusual. We better get moving.”

“Ring around the moon, rain coming soon,” Jaimin says softly, and my head snaps around.

“What?”

He shrugs. “It’s usually the case. It’ll probably storm by morning.”

Fuck. I knew there was a reason I’m an indoors type of person. “By all means, let’s beat the rain to the village.”

We don’t quite manage to beat the storm. It’s close, and the dark shadows of the village are within sight, but clouds blot out the glow of predawn ferociously fast. Within mere minutes, the sky goes from clear to the first heavy drops of rain, and by the time we ride into the innyard, we’re soaked through.

So delightful.

Thankfully, the scullery boy is already awake and opens the door to my pounding, racing off to fetch the innkeeper. He’s grumpy at being woken an hour early but cheers up when I tell him we want a room for the day and night, stabling and fodder for three horses, and all our meals. I also pay extra for private baths and ask if there’s somewhere we can dry our clothes. His face is alight as he babbles that his wife and daughter can look after everything for us. Business is likely to be slow for him in this weather anyway—most people are intelligent, like me, and don’t travel in the rain.

Tia takes Jaimin upstairs—he’s been swaying in his saddle for the last half hour—and the innkeeper rouses the stablehand to help me with the horses. Only when I’m satisfied they’re all dry, warm, watered, and fed in their cozy stalls do I enter the inn.

The innwife meets me at the bottom of the stairs, a huge covered tray in her hands.

“Is that for us?” I ask. My stomach growls. I don’t normally eat this early in the morning, but my body’s been awake long enough to decide it needs sustenance.

“It is,” she says. “If you’ll take this one, I’ll fetch the other. We’re heating the water for your baths, so the sooner you get some food in you, the better.”

I almost break down weeping. Instead, I muster my most charming smile. “If you ever decide you’d like a new husband, I’d run away with you in a heartbeat.”

She laughs. “As if I’d marry trouble like you. Get upstairs and out of those wet things.”

I obey, because it’s only force of will that’s keeping my teeth from chattering right now. At the top of the stairs, I turn right, remembering the innkeeper’s directions, and go to the end. The door there is firmly closed, and I reach out to my sister.

“Open the door, would you?”

A moment later, she’s standing there, out of her leathers and wearing simple cotton trousers and a shirt. “Is that food? Thank all the gods.”

Following her in, I say, “Leave the door open—there’s another tray coming,” and take in the room. We’re in luck—it’s a nice one. There’s a wide window with a bench seat, a huge four-poster bed at one end, and two armchairs before a fireplace with the fire crackling cheerfully away. Jaimin’s sitting in one of them, his head leaned back, eyes closed. At the other end of the room is a cot, but it’s a good size and made up with decent linens. There’s also a screened-off area and a small table and chairs. My guess is that this room runs the entire width of the inn and is usually reserved for traveling nobles.

No wonder the innkeeper was so happy to see us. This isn’t a room most travelers can afford.

I set the tray on the table and shoot Tia an apologetic look. “This doesn’t fit with your low-profile plan. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs and lifts the cloth off the food. “We need a place to regroup. And I’m rethinking the whole low-profile thing. We might need more muscle.”

My frown comes swiftly—the stone won’t like that—but the innwife bustles in before I can reply.

“Here we are.” She sets down the other tray. This one is only half covered, and the other half has a teapot with steam rising from the spout and a jug of pale liquid. “This is my own restorative tea recipe—will do you all good! And the cider is from Carby’s orchard, over the other side of the village. The baker was just taking the first loaves out, so you’ve got those too, and porridge. There’s some cheese and a bit of last night’s roast. That should get you started.”

My stomach growls again. “Ma’am, that offer of marriage stands.”

She scoffs. “Now, you’ve probably found the tub.” She gestures to the screen. “I’ll send someone up to fill it for the lady. You gentlemen can bathe after she does, or we’ve a private room off the kitchen with another tub. There’s no guests awake at the moment, so you’d have it to yourselves. I can tell the girls to start filling it, if you’d like.”

“Please do,” Tia says. “But our friend will use the tub up here. He had the sleeping sickness last month, and riding through the night has worn him out.” She makes a face. “We were trying to beat the rain.”

The innwife’s face softens as she glances toward Jaimin. “Oh, the poor dear. I had that a few years back, and I swear it seemed to linger for months after. You’re the only ones at this end of the hall, so he should be able to get some rest, and he’ll feel better in a few hours—all of you should. I’ll get a nice tea together for you around midmorning to keep you going until lunch.”

“You’re so kind. We truly appreciate it—we haven’t been the best guests, waking you this early.”

She clucks her tongue. “Nothing of it—you’ve been the soul of gentility. Now eat, and I’ll have both tubs filled for you.” She closes the door on her way out.

“I love her,” I declare. “Can you wake Jaimin while I change?”

Tia waves me off, already crossing the room, and I grab fresh clothes from my—thankfully waterproof—pack, then duck behind the screen. My mind is whirling—I need to speak with my master and find out what Tia meant about needing muscle. I desperately want to sleep. And the stone needs to give us more information.

But first thing first: If I don’t eat soon, my stomach may just start digesting my other organs.

It’s midmorning, and we’ve just demolished a giant tray of tea and cake when I decide I’m finally ready to start thinking again. I’d intended to contact Master after my bath, but I came back to the room to find Tia snoring in the cot and Jaimin sleeping peacefully on one side of the big bed. It didn’t seem worth disturbing them, and the lure of sleep was strong, so I blocked the door and window with telekinetic energy, hoped it would be good enough, and sprawled on the other side of the mattress.

Tia woke me four hours later, desperate to use the privy, and I let her out of the room just as the innkeeper’s daughter arrived with the tea tray. Jaimin opened his eyes when the scent of warm apple cake reached him, and he looks a lot better now, working on his second cup of tea.

“We need to decide what to do next,” Tia declares, her thoughts in sync with mine.

Jaimin looks across the table at me. “Have you spoken to Master Samoine?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. But first…” I telepathically sweep the hallway—nobody’s nearby. In fact, I don’t think there’s anybody at the inn except us and the staff, who are all downstairs. That works in our favor. I put a clever little telepathic tripwire at the top of the stairs—it won’t be noticed, but if anyone comes up here, I’ll know. Something I learned to do in my student days.

“Okay, we can be assured of privacy.” I pull the pouch out of my shirt and dump the stone into the center of the table. It rattles against the teapot and then sits there, looking particularly unattractive. “Stone, are we safe here for now?”

~Yes~

“No zombies nearby—or friends of zombies?” I press.

~No~

“And you’ll let us know if that changes?”

~Yes~

“That’s something, at least,” Jaimin murmurs.

Nodding, I reach out to my master.

“Talon?” His surprise is clear. I’ve been reporting to him in the early evenings, not mornings. “Has something happened?”

“We were attacked last night. Seven zombies, five humans.”

He swears viciously, the echo of his concern vibrating down our mental connection. “Are you all well? Somewhere safe?”

“We’re safe for now, at an inn. I think we’ll be here for at least tonight, maybe tomorrow night also. Jaimin killed one of them.”

Master swears again.

“Yes. It would have been nice if someone told me about backlash before I found him curled up in agony in the middle of a zombie attack.”

“It’s not something I thought you’d need to know,” he admits. “I didn’t even think of it. Has he recovered?”

“Mostly. I think he’s just worn out now.”

“Tell me everything that happened.”

I begin, but I only have my own perspective, and after the third time I stop to question the others and relay information, Master loses patience.

“Let me speak through you,” he demands.

Ugh. I hate doing this—it always leaves me with a headache after. My teachers, including Master Samoine, all said it wouldn’t if I’d stop resisting it so hard, but how else is a man to react when he’s sharing his eyes, mouth, and ears with another person?

Grimacing, I warn Tia and Jaimin. “Master wants to talk to us all. He’s going to use me as his… puppet.” I deliberately let him catch that comment.

“Stop calling it that!”

Jaimin chuckles. “This is always so disconcerting to see.”

“Is it?” Tia’s fascinated. “How does it work?”

“We’ll both be in my body,” I explain, “participating in the conversation.”

Her eyes widen. “Can all telepaths do that? Maybe we need to train some of you to ride dragons.”

I shake my head. “Not all. And definitely no on the dragons.”

“Only the strongest can do it,” Jaimin tells her. “At both ends. Your brother is very Talented.”

I preen. “Don’t forget charming, intelligent, and handsome.”

His eyes flick over me, and he shrugs. “Meh.”

Outraged, I gasp, but Master telepathically clearing his throat drags my attention back to what I’m supposed to be doing. Though I take a moment to glower at Jaimin before I tell Tia, “Brace yourself.”