Page 42 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

Chapter Nineteen

SACHA

Disobedience, once permitted, must be made visible in its punishment.

Authority Codes

“We need to make sure you look like you’re on the verge of death.” Varam gives me a critical once-over when we finally stop in a secluded clearing before approaching Stonehaven. “Being carried on a stretcher isn’t enough to convince anyone beyond a first glance.”

“I’m aware.” I strip out of the borrowed clothes. The morning air is cold against my skin, but that’s a minor discomfort compared to what might lie ahead.

From the corner of my eye, I see Ellie quickly avert her gaze, a flush creeping up her neck.

Everyone else continues their preparations without reaction, paying no attention.

But Ellie hasn’t had to spend months living in a war where privacy was almost impossible to find.

I fight back a smile. Something about her reaction is oddly refreshing.

We’re just out of reach of Stonehaven, close enough that one of their lookouts may have already spotted our approach, but not near enough that they can see what we’re doing without our scouts seeing them first. Our little group stands in a small clearing, while they construct a new stretcher and I prepare for a performance that could determine whether or not we survive the next few days.

Ellie is watching the ground now, her expression a mixture of worry and embarrassment. Since discovering the extent of her connection to the weather, she’s managed to keep control, and the sky above us is clear despite her obvious turmoil.

Closing my eyes, I center myself, reaching inside for a power that has nothing to do with my shadows. The Void rises in response to my call.

“ Shadath verim.” Darkness spirals around my arms, then sinks into my skin.

From somewhere to my left, someone gasps.

“Neveran thul .” It spreads through me, creating a network of false bruising, thickening on my chest and cheek to form the Authority’s brands.

Shadath morven .” The energy settles into my cheeks, drawing them inward to create the gaunt look of starvation. It weighs down my eyelids, like cold fingers pressing gently against my skin. I know without seeing that it’s creating the waxy pallor of a sustained fever.

“ Verathen sul .” I direct the final incantation to my throat. It wraps around my vocal cords, a gentle constriction that alters their vibration. When I speak, my voice emerges as a pained rasp.

I open my eyes. “How does it look?”

Ellie’s face is white, but Varam walks around me, examining the illusion. “It looks good, but we need some additional non-magical things. Voidcraft should fool most, but the healers may wish to examine you. They’ll expect to see blood and bandages.”

Mira steps forward with strips of cloth and a flat rock covered in crushed berries mixed with something darker.

It’s a concoction that mimics the color and consistency of blood.

She wraps the bandages around my torso, then coats them in the berry mixture, creating the impression of bleeding injuries.

She wraps my hands next, staining the knuckles where Sereven and his torturers shattered bones.

“How long will you be able to hold it for?” She steps back to assess her work.

“Long enough to get inside, and back to my quarters. As long as I can release it for short periods to replenish the energy it requires, I can keep it going for as long as we need. Hopefully, it won’t take more than a couple of days to find out who the traitor is.

” My voice sounds weak, pained. “Convincing enough?”

Ellie’s face tells me everything I need to know. She’s looking at me properly now, her discomfort overcome by curiosity at what I’m doing. Even knowing the truth, she’s responding to the illusion with worry and horror. Her eyes widen slightly, and her fingers twitch at her sides.

“Come here,” I tell her as I walk over to the stretcher and lie on it. “See for yourself it’s just an illusion.”

She hesitates, then steps forward, reaching out carefully as though I might actually be as fragile as I appear. Her fingers brush against mine, then move to the false brand on my chest. The warmth of her skin cuts through the cold of the Voidcraft.

“It feels real.” She traces the outline of a wound that isn’t there. “Too real.” Her gaze drops to where her power sealed the sword wound in my side only days ago.

I nod, acutely aware of the strange intimacy of the moment. When did it become natural to allow her touch? Her hands against my skin feel like an extension of myself. A power of its own that I’ve come to accept rather than resist.

I run through the things I might have to do in my mind—the occasional wince when moved, labored breathing, the unfocused gaze of a man fighting to remain conscious through pain and fever.

Everything must be convincing, not only to casual observers but to trained healers and Veinwarden leaders who will be watching closely.

The deception needs to extend beyond mere appearance, though. Stonehaven’s healers will want to check for fever, for infection, for the dozens of wounds they expect to find beneath the bandages. If even one person touches me, our entire ruse collapses.

“The fever will be crucial to the plan. No one must get close enough to touch me. We will tell them that my shadows are fighting the infection, and any contact outside of them will disrupt the process.”

“Lysa’s word should keep the others at bay. She has been with us the entire time.”

“This is insane,” Ellie whispers. “What if the traitor panics? What if they try to kill you when they discover you’re alive?

You’re healed, but you’re not invincible, no matter how much you like to behave as though you are.

” Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something new there now.

A fierce protectiveness that makes the silver flecks shine.

“That’s the point, Mel’shira. Fear will reveal what interrogation cannot. When the traitor sees me returned from what should have been certain death, then they will need to act.”

“What if they act by putting a knife in your heart? You’re risking everything .”

“Not everything.” I look down at where her hand is still resting against my arm. “The Authority wanted me kept alive until I was delivered to Blackvault. They can’t steal my power if I’m dead. Whatever information the traitor passed to Sereven, that directive would have been clear.”

“And what if the Authority has changed their mind, and now thinks your death will send more of a message?”

“If I die fighting, then I’ll become a martyr. Alive, I’m a warning to anyone who might consider defiance.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she takes a deep breath and steps back.

“Just don’t make me save your life again. It was exhausting the first time.” The half-smile that accompanies it is shaky.

“Remember,” I tell them as they gather around once I’m secured to the stretcher. “Not a word about the reality of my condition. As far as anyone in Stonehaven knows, I’ve been tortured nearly to death, and am barely clinging to life. I could die at any moment.”

Everyone nods, the atmosphere solemn, commitment clear in their expressions. These thirteen have become my most trusted circle by necessity, by witnessing my transformation, and participating in this deception.

If we’re wrong and the traitor isn’t at Stonehaven but among them, then we’re already doomed.

“Ellie, walk beside me.” I indicate to those gathered around me that I’m ready to be lifted.

“Your presence will make the deception more convincing. Varam said you were very insistent that I wasn’t dead, and that you were determined to be part of the rescue team when news reached Stonehaven that I was alive.

They know you wouldn’t leave my side if I were truly dying. ”

Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, and she gives Varam a slightly accusatory look before stepping closer to me.

“You still sound like you’re giving orders, rather than asking for help.” She doesn’t look at me, adjusting a bandage on my wrist. “You should try to sound less … demanding when we reach Stonehaven.”

Her observation is accurate. Even pretending to be almost dead, I’m defaulting to command rather than vulnerability.

“Noted. How’s this?” I add more fragility to my voice.

Her glare tells me I’m hitting the mark.

The stretcher is an uncomfortable reminder of being carried through mountains to Southern Rock.

I allow my head to loll slightly, my breathing to sound more labored, and send Voidcraft through my skin, giving it the translucent quality of someone who has lost too much blood, fought too many infections, and endured beyond human limits.

“Let’s move,” Varam orders. “Keep a slow pace. We want word of our approach to reach Stonehaven before we get there.”

The journey to the fortress’s hidden entrance takes almost an hour across rocky ground that would have been agony for the wounded man I’m pretending to be.

The stretcher sways with each step of those carrying me, and I allow groans to escape at intervals, in case of scouts watching.

While I’m maintaining my disguise, I can’t spare the focus to search for anyone watching us through shadows or my raven, and so we move at a slow pace, maximizing the time for news of our approach to spread through the mountain fortress.

Ellie walks beside the stretcher, her hand occasionally brushing against mine in what appears to be concerned comfort.

I use the time to prepare mentally, mapping Stonehaven’s layout in my mind. The main cavern, the chamber where Veinwarden leaders meet, and the network of tunnels connecting living quarters and storage areas.

The biggest challenge is going to be identifying who it or they are. Our betrayer could be anyone—a fighter, a healer, a scout. Their motives are equally unclear. Coercion? Ideology? Personal gain? Understanding why someone is betraying us might be more important than discovering who.