Page 38

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Before Peiris can answer, the sound of Jaimin shouting my name carries to us, and our new companion raises a brow.

“Your friends?”

That answers the question of whether they’ve been watching us since we arrived. “Yes.” I raise my voice. “We’re over here!”

Peiris steps back, and I half-raise my hand to them, then gasp. Fuck , that hurts.

Arimen gasps. “Talon, you’re bleeding!”

“It’s fine,” I lie. I’m not looking at my arm. Tia told me once that wounds hurt more when you look at them, and she’d know more about it than I do.

“She did,” Leicht agrees, “but that doesn’t make it true.”

Ignoring him as the sound of running footsteps echoes closer, I look at Peiris. “Please don’t go. I have the st— the wellspring here.” My good hand fumbles with my shirt, but it’s not easy to get to the pouch one-handed. Peiris seems uncertain but doesn’t leave, to my great relief. I’m not in the mood to chase them all over the city, especially given their fighting ability.

“Talon?” Jaimin and Coryn race around the corner and skid to a stop, taking in the scene before them. Coryn raises his sword, and Peiris’s swings up in response.

“We’re all friends!” I shout. “We’re— Ow!” In my haste to stop any maiming, I automatically lifted my wounded arm. It was a mistake.

“You’re hurt.” Jaimin pushes past Coryn and stretches an arm toward me. Even before he reaches me, the pain in my arm lessens, and finally, I glance down at it.

My knees wobble just a tiny bit. That’s a lot of blood. And, oh fuck, is that white thing my bone ?

I swallow down bile and look away. Jaimin takes gentle hold of my elbow and wrist, and the pain disappears entirely, but I keep my focus on Coryn and Peiris while he heals me.

“No fighting,” I say firmly. “Peiris, meet Coryn—and this is Jaimin, healing me. Peiris saved us when the zombies got the upper hand.” My ego doesn’t like to admit that I was losing the fight, but I was losing the fight.

“Thank you, Peiris. It’s nice to meet you,” Jaimin greets them. “You’ll have supper with us this evening, won’t you?”

I slide him a sideways glance, but he’s still looking at my arm. My plan was for Peiris to join us, of course, but I don’t know where Jaimin thinks we’re getting food for another mouth from.

“I can bring you a goat,” Leicht suggests. “But you’ll need to carry it down to wherever you’re cooking. Unless you want me to drop it? That would tenderize the meat.”

“No, thanks. Also, could you not talk about dropping things and tenderizing meat? I’m trying not to throw up right now.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Peiris replies politely, not committing either way.

“I like your hair,” Coryn tells them, then turns to me while they’re processing that. “How many came for you? We only had four, and Jaimin sensed them before they were close.”

“I counted nine before I didn’t have time for counting anymore. But I think there were more.”

“Many were already burning before I reached you, and I accounted for six,” Peiris puts in. Coryn frowns.

“That’s more than they sent last time. Were any of yours living? Ours were all—” He stops abruptly, gaze slicing to Peiris, who doesn’t seem at all surprised.

“Undead? It was hard to miss the way amputated limbs kept moving.”

I file away the information that they’re not distressed by the presence—or existence—of zombies. We can talk about that later. “I don’t think any were alive. They were all completely silent, and their faces looked… vacant.” I grimace. “But I stopped paying attention after the first minute. I was just burning anything that came at me.” My knees wobble again. I’ve used a lot of magic today, plus Jaimin’s still healing me, which means my injury was serious. That’s going to eat up energy too.

“Ours were all zombies too,” Coryn confirms. “I cut them up as much as I could before we came looking for you.”

What a delightful thought. “Let’s go, then. It would be bad if they crawled off before I can burn them.” I’m not even sure what would happen.

“It’s not as though they can reassemble,” Peiris says calmly. “They’ll just return to the mage who raised them and likely be burned. Nobody wants a disassembled body roaming around.”

Jaimin’s hands tighten on my arm. “You seem to know a lot about this.”

“Peiris is the person we came here to meet,” I interject. “I was just about to show them the stone.”

Coryn purses his lips and looks Peiris up and down, his eyes lingering on the bloody sword. “You killed six of them?”

“I did. All by myself.”

The sunny smile I’ve gotten so used to appears on Coryn’s face. “That’s wonderful! I’ve been worried about protecting everyone on my own, you know? Especially in places like this, where Leicht can’t help.”

Peiris isn’t quite as enthusiastic yet. “And Leicht is?”

Coryn points up before I can stop him. “Dragon. Didn’t you notice him?”

Knowing brown eyes turn to me, and I try to look innocent.

“I noticed. Who is the dragon rider among you?” Their eyes skim over all of us, and we clearly come up wanting. I don’t blame them—none of us fits the description of a dragon rider, except maybe Coryn. But that’s a stretch.

Coryn’s smile dims. “She died. Leicht wanted to stay, though, so?—”

“Okay, let’s explain later,” I cut in. The stone might say Peiris is coming with us, but I’d like to know more about them before we start telling secrets. “I need to go burn the zombie pieces, and it’s going to be dark soon. Arimen and I thought the temple might make a good place to sleep tonight—it has doors and everything.”

“The temple of Wasianth?” Peiris asks, and when I nod, adds, “For a group this size, it would be excellent. Especially if you have horses, as you said.”

Arimen gasps. “We can’t bring horses into the temple!”

“They’re children of the gods,” I say flatly. “I’m sure Wasianth won’t mind. He loved horses—remember his favorite horse, Freshy?”

“Frestin!” he corrects indignantly. “His horse’s name was Frestin, and he loved her so much that she lives with him in the afterlife.”

“That’s what I meant. Frestin. So he’d be fine with horses in the temple.”

While he’s sputtering and Peiris is biting back a smile—one of the few signs of a personality I’ve seen from them—I say to Jaimin, “Can you leave the rest for now?”

He frowns. “Do I have a choice?”

I’m going to pay for this later. “Will I lose my arm if you pause the healing for a while?”

His affronted expression tells me everything I need to know. “Your arm could be hanging by a flap of skin, and I’d be able to save it,” he retorts, then grimaces. “Most of the time. Fine. Let’s get this shirt off you and use it as a sling, though.”

Shirt… off? “Uh, how about I just hold my arm against my body?” The thought of having to lift my arm to get my shirt off has that bile rising in my throat again. Even though Jaimin’s deadened the pain, it still doesn’t feel normal.

“How about you do as you’re told?” His stern expression relaxes into a smirk. “The shirt is ruined, Talon. I’m going to rip it so you can take it off without moving your arm.”

I want to protest—I really like this shirt—but upsetting Jaimin seems like a bad idea, not to mention there are assorted zombie body parts currently meandering around, and that’s definitely a bad thing. So I sigh and nod. Someone is going to buy me a new shirt when this is all over.

He rips it with an efficiency I find very attractive—I’m going to need to stop getting rid of my clothes when they’re no longer suitable for wearing. He can rip them off me instead—and quickly binds my arm to my torso.

“Do not try to lift it,” he cautions. “Let’s?—”

“Uh-oh.”

We look at Arimen, whose pale face is even paler than usual. “What’s wrong?” Coryn demands. Arimen lifts a shaking hand and points down the street.

“I think the zombies are trying to find you.”

I’m not the only one whose jaw drops at the sight of assorted limbs dragging themselves along the cobblestones in our direction. Limbs with hands and toes attached—basically, digits that can be used to facilitate movement. I imagine the torsos are still stuck where they fell.

Peiris must be thinking the same thing I am, because they say, “I’m surprised the heads didn’t roll along too. Do you think it’s the incline of the street that’s stopped them?”

Arimen makes a retching sound.

“It could be,” Jaimin agrees, going to check on our young friend. “Or it could be that heads aren’t perfectly round, so they might be rolling on an elliptical trajectory.”

“Interesting. I hadn’t cons?—”

“Sorry to interrupt, but that’s already too much geometry for me,” I cut in. My stomach is unsettled enough; talk of rolling heads won’t help. “Coryn, while I burn these… pieces, why don’t you and Peiris go have a look at the temple, see if you agree we should move there for tonight? Then we can go get all our things.”

Peiris raises an eyebrow. “I’m not accustomed to being ordered about.”

“He’s the expedition leader,” Coryn says earnestly. “But don’t worry, he doesn’t do much ordering. Mostly he complains about sleeping on the ground and the food. You and I will be in charge when it comes to safety stuff. Come on, you can show me the temple, and I’ll explain how we all work together.”

I momentarily wonder if that was a poor decision on my part, but surely the stone would have stopped me if Peiris was going to be a risk to us. Shrugging it off—better that they learn upfront what their life is going to become for this mission—I set to work burning arms and legs.

Twilight is falling before we get our things and the horses to the temple. Jaimin and I were right about the heads and torsos of the dismembered zombies—the torsos were where they’d fallen, twitching desperately but barely making any progress, and the heads were rolling around in lopsided circles. I burned them all. Coryn and Jaimin are almost certain no parts got away, and considering that the ones that could move came after us, my guess is that their only orders were to kill us, and they couldn’t stop until that was achieved. The thought of facing that kind of single-mindedness in huge numbers on a battlefield sends chills down my spine.

When Coryn joined us, he advised that the temple would be perfect and that Peiris had gone to collect their belongings. I didn’t have the chance to ask for details, since Sweetie was trying to stomp on my foot—she obviously didn’t like being left at the mercy of the zombies—but now that my demon horse is contentedly drowsing in the corner we’ve blocked off for the horses, I turn my attention to important matters.

Or rather, Jaimin hauls me off to one of the stone benches and threatens me with dire consequences if I don’t sit still so he can finish healing me. I obey and pretend this bossy, strict side of him isn’t wildly attractive to me.

That lasts for about thirty seconds. “You know, it’s more fun than I expected when you order me around. Maybe we can?—”

“Do you want me to make this painful?” he threatens. “I can make it painful.”

I give up on trying to flirt… for now. “No,” I say meekly, then can’t resist adding, “It’s not my fault the zombies attacked. Why are you angry with me?”

“I’m not angry with you,” he begins, then immediately changes tack. “Actually, yes, I am. Since when are you the stoic hero who refuses healing?”

What? I blink at him in surprise. “I’m not,” I protest. “Heal me, please .”

His eyes narrow.

“Is this about before? Because I didn’t want zombie limbs creeping around the city and for us to be wandering around after dark?”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m being unreasonable,” he orders. “You have no idea how close you were to losing your arm—and your life, if the wound had festered.”

“I know it hurt like fire until you numbed the pain,” I counter. “And I know you’d never let anything bad happen to me if you could stop it. I don’t think you’re being unreasonable, Jaimin—you’re just underestimating how much faith I have in you.”

His expression softens a little. “Sweet words aren’t going to keep me from lecturing you later.”

“Okay,” I agree. “We’ll go into one of those private rooms and you can lecture me as long as you like. Can we be naked?”

He heaves a sigh that turns into a chuckle. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Yes, but I also love you.”

The smile I get almost makes up for the fact that I nearly lost my godsdamned arm. I could have lived without knowing that little fact.

I give myself a few more seconds to process that and then ask Jaimin, “Do you mind if I call Coryn over? I want to know what he and Peiris talked about.”

He nods. “Good idea. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

I shrug, then cringe when he scowls at me. “Sorry. I forgot. You’re too good at making the pain go away.” The scowl doesn’t lighten, so I move on. “Hey, Coryn? Could you come here?”

Our resident cuddle-bunny puts down the sword he’s sharpening—a sound I’ve become accustomed to but will never like—and joins us. “Hi! Is Talon okay?” he asks Jaimin.

“I’m right here,” I point out, but he ignores me.

“If he needs to rest, I can come back later,” he says earnestly.

Jaimin smiles at him. “You’re my favorite person in the world. But it’s fine for him to talk to you.”

Coryn beams and says, “Okay,” before turning to me. “Did you need something?”

I sputter for a good ten seconds. “I am an adult! I’m a mage, and a professor, and the leader of this group, and I can decide when I’m okay to talk!”

“Of course you can,” he assures me earnestly, and I get the distinct feeling of being humored. “Was that what you wanted to tell me?”

This isn’t an argument I’m going to win. “No,” I mutter gracelessly. “What did you and Peiris talk about? Did they say where their camp is?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Now that I think of it, I even asked, but they never answered. Mostly I talked—I told them about Leicht and Tia.”

Jaimin looks up, his eyes intent. “Did you mention that Talon can communicate with Leicht?”

“No, but they’ll find out anyway, won’t they? I think they were curious about that, but they’re too polite to ask.”

I snort. “They’re not that polite. It’s more likely that they didn’t want to say anything that might make you stop talking.”

“It’s been a while,” Jaimin says. “Do you think they’ve just left?”

“No,” I say, even as Coryn shakes his head again. “I think they’ll want to see the stone.”

“Yeah,” Coryn agrees. “That was the one question they did ask—though they called it something else. It took us a few minutes to understand each other.”

“What did they call it?” Jaimin asks.

Coryn shrugs. “The wellspring,” I answer. “I’m almost positive that they’re from the Baswich Empire. Which raises a lot of questions.”

“The Baswich Empire?” Coryn’s eyes widen. “But that’s on the other side of the world! I didn’t think the people there were human.”

How Jaimin keeps a straight face, I have no idea. My jaw drops so fast, I’m surprised it stays attached. “Why—? What?—?”

“They’re human,” Jaimin says patiently. “And that would explain the accent. It’s a long way to travel, though. I wonder if this means the zombie threat is already more widespread than we’d guessed?”

“I wonder why someone from the other side of the world knows where we need to go next while we don’t,” I counter. “I don’t mind sailing, but I’ve never been interested in crossing whole oceans.” Not to mention that will delay my return to my studies indefinitely.

“Oceans are big,” Coryn comments. “And horses don’t like boats that much.”

Even though I’ve been keeping an eye out for the opportunity to get rid of Sweetie, suddenly the idea of leaving her behind isn’t so appealing. What if we get to the Empire and my horse there hates me too? Only I won’t have the history with it that I have with Sweetie. She might be a pain in the ass, but as least I know I can trust her when things go badly. “We’ll just have to hope we’re staying on the continent, then.”

“And wait for Peiris to come back and answer our questions,” Jaimin adds before patting my shoulder. “I’m done with you. Go put some clothes on before you catch a cold.”

Startled, I realize the odd numbness in my arm is gone, and it feels as good as new. “Thank you!” I jump to my feet and catch his face between my hands, pulling him in for a kiss before he can protest. He’s a very private person, but Coryn and Arimen don’t count as public.

“Oh.”

We break apart and turn toward the main temple doors. Peiris is standing there, a pack dangling from one hand and a bedroll over the other shoulder.

“Welcome back,” I say smoothly. “Is something wrong?” I don’t care how good they are with that sword, if I have to dangle them upside down, I will.

They shake their head. “No, I was just surprised. Apologies—I didn’t intend to make things awkward.”

I let out a silent breath of relief, and beside me, Jaimin relaxes.

“Where’s your horse?” Coryn asks, and I actually see the moment Peiris decides whether to tell us the truth or not.

“I didn’t bring him,” they say finally, and dammit, that’s the perfect neutral answer.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Jaimin suggests, moving toward the fire I lit under one of the skylight holes. “Arimen will finish making supper soon, but in the meantime, Talon can show you the… wellspring.”

“Just let me put on a shirt now that I’m all healed up,” I confirm, heading toward my pack. Peiris takes in our small camp and sets their things slightly off to one side, neatly unrolling their bedding close enough to the fire to take advantage of the warmth, but still apart from the rest of us.

I pull on a shirt and my coat, thankful I wasn’t wearing it or my cloak when the zombies attacked, because I don’t have spares, and then take the stone from the pouch around my neck. “Here it is.”

Peiris’s dark eyes lock onto it, and a muscle works in their cheek. Finally, they nod. “I’m in the right place, then. It’s good to know that we interpreted the prophecies correctly.”

The stone clatters to the floor.

“Talon!” Jaimin starts toward me, concern on his face, even as Coryn snatches up his sword.

“I’m fine; everything’s okay,” I assure them both, bending to pick up the stone. I don’t know why they’re so worried. It’s not like it can break or anything… can it?

Just in case, I look it over cursorily, but it doesn’t seem to be misshapen or chipped. Not more than usual, anyway.

“Sorry about that,” I tell Peiris. “I was a little surprised. Whereabouts in the prophecies did you find the directions to meet us here?” And why were our prophetic scholars unable to find them?