The Healing Wars: Book III: Darkfall Read online

  I braced myself for the next pulse and clawed my way across the fallen horse, the unconscious soldiers.

  A girl lay where the Duke had once chained me, in the trigger position. I covered her hand with one of mine. Felt my way in. Faint pain cycled through her, her heart barely beating. I had to get her out of there. Had to get all them all out of there.

  “Hold on. Fight it.”

  The weapon pulsed again and I shrieked, curling into a ball against the pain. So different from the blades or the kicks. Deeper, stronger. Move—you can’t quit now. I gathered the draining pain between my heart and my guts, forced it back, trapped it. Hand over hand I climbed onto the disk, my stomach quivering so badly, it was hard to walk. My skin itched where the disk touched me, but I grabbed the spire, pulled myself up, and shoved the cylinder into the hole at the center.

  Please work.

  Light burst from the weapon. I dropped back to the disk and squeezed my eyes shut. The light stabbed through my lids, bright as day. Wind sucked at me, pulling me toward the device. My skin stretched, cracked—

  Silence.

  The wind eased. The pulsing stopped. Blue light dimmed to black. I trembled, every muscle sore, my skin stinging as if I’d flashed all the pynvium in the Three Territories. Was it over? Had it stopped?

  No pulse. No more light.

  I opened my eyes. White aftershimmers hovered before me for a heartbeat, then faded. The Takers weren’t moving. Were they even still alive?

  Weak and shaking, I crawled to the edge of the disk and rolled off, dropping to the street. I landed on my back on a soldier, but it was better than being on that pynvium. My stomach still quivered, but I didn’t have the energy to move farther away.

  “Nya!” Danello called.

  I stared at the stars. They were twinkling blue. My eyelids drooped closed.

  Leather scraped against stone. Swears, grunts. Staggering steps, coming closer, getting louder. “Nya!” Danello gathered me in his arms. “Can you hear me?”

  “Help them,” I said, shivering, but not cold.

  “Are you hurt? Can I take any of your pain?”

  I hurt, but not the same as when I carried pain. More weak than sore. I touched his arm, hot under my trembling fingers. Pushed.

  “Nothing to shift.” Every word took effort. So much effort.

  Hands on my cheeks. Warm hands. “Nya, hold on,” Danello said. “Aylin’s here, but she’s unconscious. Wake her up, and she’ll get help.” He put my hand on her arm.

  I drew, just a little. Shuddered.

  Aylin woke. Gasped. “What happened to her?”

  “Get Lanelle. Now!”

  More running feet. Danello stayed with me, stroking my hair. I tried to lift my head, but my neck felt made of lake weed.

  So many sounds floated in the air: shouts, running feet, clanking armor. War. There was a war going on. And Danello, yelling. Yelling at Lanelle to move faster.

  Tali. I had to say good-bye.

  “I need Tali.”

  Soft hands pressed against my skin, tingling. “There’s no injury—she feels…”

  “Feels what?” Danello said. “Lanelle, is she okay?”

  “I don’t know! Last time I sensed something like this, the person was dying. I don’t know what to do to help her.”

  Nobody spoke. I tried to feel my way into my own body. Was I dying? Felt more like falling asleep.

  “Danello,” I whispered, “get Tali.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” he said. He sounded angry.

  “Maybe you should find her,” Lanelle whispered. “Nya may not”—she paused—“she doesn’t have long.”

  “This wasn’t part of the plan,” Aylin yelled, grabbing my shirt. “You’re supposed to beat him. You’re supposed to win.”

  “I believe that’s my plan,” a man said. I knew that voice.

  “No,” Aylin whispered.

  Whoomp!

  Thuds, like bodies falling, as pain stung my skin. I forced my eyes open a crack, my heart pounding. A man stepped out of the shadows, then another, and another, with even more behind. Soldiers.

  “Hold her.”

  Two soldiers pinned my arms to the street. The third man knelt over me, trapping my legs.

  The Duke of Baseer.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Where in Moed’s name did you get the control rod?” the Duke asked, pulling a knife from a sheath on his belt. “Zertanik swore he couldn’t make it work, the lying rat.”

  I struggled, helpless as a bird in a croc’s jaw. My fingers flexed, straining for skin, but I had no real pain to shift even if I touched someone.

  “I’m going to make you scream.”

  “Now, now, Verraad,” another man spoke. I knew that voice too. He’d been with the Duke when they’d put me into the weapon. Erben, Eker—no, Erken. “No time to play.”

  “There’s a little time.”

  “No, she’s too dangerous to keep alive, even to torture.”

  “You … won’t win,” I gasped. So hard to breathe with them holding me down.

  The knife came closer. “Yes, I will.”

  I clawed at the ground, unable to move more than my fingers. I brushed against Danello’s pants leg. Found a rip at the knee.

  “The best way to kill a Healer is straight through the heart,” Erken said.

  The Duke raised the knife. “Let’s see if that works for Shifters too.”

  I stretched my finger and touched Danello’s skin. Drew with everything I had left. He snorted awake. His pain surged through me, mingling with Aylin’s.

  The knife plunged down.

  Danello leaped at the soldier on my right, knocking him over. My arm came free and I rolled right. The Duke’s knife sank hilt deep into my chest, barely missing my heart. I gasped, unable to breathe in enough air to scream. Danello crashed against the second soldier, and he jerked back. My other arm pulled free.

  The Duke. Get the Duke.

  I swung uselessly at him. Missed. My hand dropped and landed on the hand of the second soldier. My fingers wrapped around his, and I pushed the knife wound into him. He shrieked and fell away.

  Stop him. Stop the Duke, then you can die.

  “Get her!” Erken yelled. The Duke charged forward. He grabbed my throat in both hands and squeezed.

  My vision blurred. I grabbed his cheeks and pushed.

  He sucked in a breath but didn’t let go. “Shift all you want, but I’m stronger than you.”

  Soldiers surrounded us, swords out, looking confused. If they stabbed me, I could shift it into the Duke. But maybe they knew that.

  “Don’t touch her!” The Duke squeezed harder, far too much pleasure on his face.

  I pushed harder. The shifted pain crashed against a wall, like he was keeping me out. Something strong.

  Light sparkled at the edge of my vision. My lungs felt ready to burst. I needed air. Needed … strength…

  I drew, clawing at that wall, trying to tear it down, get past it and make him let go of me. My vision cleared. I dug deeper, drew harder, reached beyond blood and bone and muscle. He grunted but still held on. My fingers ached, but I didn’t let go. I had to get through that wall or I was dead.

  The Duke’s hands tightened more and my head spun. I kept drawing. Fire raced into me, sizzling up my arms and filling my lungs. The wall cracked and his grip loosened. Mine stayed firm. I drew harder. My heart beat with his heart. My blood sang with his blood. The strength of that wall poured into me. He tried to pull away but I held tight, drawing more and more, bringing it down.

  “Look at her,” Erken gasped. They’d pull me away now, make me stop. Kill me.

  “She is Saint touched!” a soldier cried.

  I held on. One last draw, one last heartbeat.

  And then it was gone.

  No, he was gone.

  I shoved the Duke away. His body fell in a heap and lay still, his hands curled and pressed against his chest. His skin was flaky, his cheeks sunken like a frail old
man’s. His black hair was lighter, even in the dark.

  What had I done?

  My heart pounded strong. My pain was gone. I felt … powerful.

  “Saints, what did you do to him? What are you?”

  I looked up. Erken and the soldiers stood around me, swords drawn. They gaped, fear and confusion on their hard faces. Erken’s held fascination as well.

  “I’ll do the same to you if you don’t leave my city,” I said.

  The soldiers turned and ran. Soldiers, running from me.

  Saints forgive me, but I kinda liked it that way.

  Erken stood his ground, watching me. “He went about this the wrong way,” he said. “Force was wrong. He should have asked you to help him.”

  “I would have said no.”

  “I imagine you would have. Perhaps we could strike a deal?”

  I lunged toward him, hands outstretched. He shrieked and backed away, then fled into the night toward the transport ship still docked in the bay.

  Grunts caught my attention. Danello wrestled on the ground with the two soldiers, kicking one while he swung at the other.

  “Leave him alone,” I said, moving toward them.

  Neither soldier listened. I kicked the first in the chest. He fell back with a gasp.

  “Now!”

  They rolled away and staggered to their feet. Danello rose a second later, bleeding, but alive and ready to fight. The soldiers turned as if about to come for me, then cried out, horrified. They raced off after the others.

  “Nya?” Danello said softly, staring at me. “Are you … what did you…?”

  “Please. I … I need a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  Nothing made sense. I stared down at the Duke. Hardly more than bones wrapped in skin. What had I done? What was that wall I’d tried so hard to tear down? His life? I’d drained him, drawn his life into me. The Duke had put me into his weapon all those months ago.

  Had he turned me into it as well?

  “Nya?”

  “I didn’t mean to do it, but I’m not sorry I did. He’d have killed us all if I’d let him live.”

  It was war. You killed in war—you had to. They knew that. They couldn’t hate me for doing what had to be done. I spun back around. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  Danello took a step back and my heart nearly broke. “Of course I do.”

  “Then why are you acting scared of me?”

  “Your eyes.” He walked toward me, one hand out. He brushed the skin around my eyes. “They’re, I don’t know, blue.”

  “They changed color?”

  “No,” Danello said. “They’re glowing blue.”

  I pressed my fingers against my face. I didn’t feel anything. At least on the outside. Inside I felt strong. I felt new. I felt terrified.

  “What happened to me?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Soldiers were still unconscious all around us. Lanelle and Aylin too. I knelt and woke them both up, drawing away their pain.

  They jerked away from me, then crept closer, the same horrible mix of fear and wonder on their faces.

  “I know—they’re glowing and I don’t know why.”

  Lanelle gasped again and pointed to the Duke’s body. “Is that the Duke?”

  “Yes.”

  She kicked him. Twice. Then spit. “He deserved even worse than whatever you did.”

  I wasn’t sure anyone deserved what I’d done.

  “We need to get those Takers out of the weapon,” I said. “And find where the League guards ran off to. The Duke might be dead, but his men are still alive. We have to deal with them.”

  “What about the weapon itself?” Danello asked. “You can’t just leave it here.”

  I didn’t want to touch it. It was hard enough looking at it. “Maybe we can get it inside the League.”

  “Maybe we can use it and flash the rest of those blue-boys back to Baseer,” Lanelle said, heading for the Takers. “Do you have any idea how powerful that thing is?”

  “I’m not using it on anyone. I don’t even know if I can.”

  Aylin crossed her arms. “And let’s not forget it uses Takers to work.”

  “Not anymore,” Lanelle said. “They’re dead. All of them.”

  “What?” No, they couldn’t be. It wasn’t fair. I turned the weapon off—it should have saved them. It didn’t save you. You had to drain the Duke to survive.

  He’d killed them, just like the boat captains, just like so many others. Why did he bring this weapon here? Why did he have to make me trigger it, make me kill so many just to stop him?

  “Listen, the Duke needed to use Takers,” Lanelle said after a bit. “Maybe she doesn’t. She made it work in Baseer without them.”

  “Does it even matter?” They were dead because of me.

  Lanelle huffed. “Of course it matters! Don’t let him win. You made it work before, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” It had pulsed before when no one was attached to it. I didn’t know why, but it didn’t need to be full of pain to drain life.

  “Then make it work now. Make those blue-boys pay for what they’ve done.”

  “Um, I’ll go get the guards,” Danello said. “I’ll make sure to warn them about your eyes.”

  “Okay.” I stared at the weapon, the dead Takers. “We need to get them out of there.”

  We gently uncuffed them, pulling them out of the weapon, and then carried them to the soft grass. They deserved heroes’ funerals, all of them. I took a deep breath and walked back to the weapon. Glared at it.

  “Tell me you’re not really thinking about touching that thing,” Aylin said.

  “Every inch of me itches just being this close to it.”

  “Then why do you still have that look?”

  I sighed. “If I can figure out how to make it work, maybe we can end the war.”

  “By doing to others what you did to the Duke?”

  I shivered. “No. But even elite soldiers are running from me right now, and if I have the weapon with me, maybe I can scare all of them and make them leave us alone for good.” And then no one else had to die.

  I stepped up and put my hands on the disk. It hummed under my palms. My stomach felt like something was eating away at me.

  “Well?” she asked.

  I closed my eyes, sensed my way in, shoving past the quivering and the twisting and the humming.

  Anything in here?

  I hadn’t expected an answer, but a soft click filled my mind. I followed it. Felt it. Like a huge room lurking there under the pynvium and the silvery blue metal. I felt around in that empty room, looking for the door or the key or anything that would make it turn on.

  Blue fire flickered at the edge of my vision if I didn’t look at it directly. I blew on the fire, gently, a soft breeze.

  The glyphs in the weapon glowed.

  “Nya, please get off that thing,” Aylin said, her voice shaking.

  “Wait, I think I got it.”

  I pictured a lamp with the blue flame inside and closed the flaps, shutting out the light.

  The light in the glyphs dimmed.

  I pictured opening the flaps.

  The glyphs flared bright; the hum grew louder.

  I had control. I could do this. I could use this.

  You could kill with this.

  But I could also save lives with it. Gevegian and Baseeri.

  “Soon as Danello gets back, we’re getting this thing to the front lines.”

  Geveg’s army filled the streets. We’d been fighting all night, holding on to one block at a time, losing some, gaining others. The Duke’s forces were still trying to seize a foothold in North Isle, but they had a solid hold on the Gov-Gen’s isle. The fighting in the Aristocrats’ Isles was fierce, and losses were high.

  That was where Jeatar was.

  So that was where we were going.

  Fifty League guards surrounded me. We’d managed to wake the horse, and she pulled the cart with me
and the weapon on it. I kept my hands pressed against the weapon and the glyphs glowed blue, same as my eyes. The light reflected off the armor of the dead, the shattered windows, the broken souls.

  Aylin swore I would scare the Saints themselves.

  “What—how—is that?” Jeatar gaped at me, blood caking his hairline just above his ear.

  “It’s the Duke’s weapon. He’s dead. I’ll explain later.”

  “She’s needs to get through to the blue-boys,” Aylin added. “While it’s still dark.”

  Jeatar gaped for another heartbeat, but Vyand shook him, staring at me the same way. He stepped aside. It took him another minute to issue orders.

  Our soldiers parted, letting me and my escort though.

  Battle sounds grew louder as we grew closer. Grunts and shouts, the shring of metal, the clang of swords. Then gasps of shock.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s the Shifter!”

  “It’s the Saints!”

  I blew on the blue fire in my mind, and the weapon glowed brighter. More than just the Duke’s soldiers cried out and backed away.

  “The Saints are protecting Geveg!” a woman yelled. I wasn’t sure who, but it sounded suspiciously like Ellis.

  The cries turned to shouts, the shouts to screams. The Duke’s soldiers dropped their weapons and ran—a wall of retreating backs. Horns blew, quick bursts signaling retreat. The wall became a tide, sliding away from our shores, back into the lake.

  I followed them through the streets, across the bridges, and onto the terraces. Past the villa I grew up in. Jeatar and our forces came with me, their blades reflecting blue in the light. Making the Baseeri run even faster.

  They fled ahead of us to the Gov-Gen’s isle, racing for the ramps to the transport ship looming above the governor’s estate. Soldiers shoved each other, knocking people off the gangplanks and into the canals.

  They were still running on board when the transport ship raised its sails. Wind caught canvas with a snap, and the ship pulled away, dragging the gangplanks along the lakewall.

  We’d won. We’d actually won.

  Cheers and chants floated above the screams and the running feet of those trying to make it onto the moving ship before it pulled free of Geveg. Our soldiers surged past me, after the last of the blue-boys, the Baseeri, the invaders.