Blood Lies (Dark Brothers of the Light #9) Read online

  * * * *

  Jingen rode into the clearing he had prepared days earlier and slid off his mount. Throwing Chinisi across his shoulders, Jingen carried her to a circle on the ground. He dumped her in the snow beside it and cleared the fresh fallen white from within the circle. Then he settled Chinisi in the middle. He quickly fastened her wrists and ankles to the pegs he had driven into the earth.

  He returned to the place where they had entered the glade. There Jingen anchored a line of dark magic like an arcane trip wire and drew it across the ground, binding the other end to a rock on the edge of a jutting stone shelf where the ground descended steeply into a thicket of hemlocks. He regarded his tracks and retrieved a pine bough that lay near Chinisi. Snow began to fall around him in little flurries as he erased all but one set of tracks with sweeps of the bough: the tracks that led straight to Chinisi. He walked back to her, putting his feet in each of his own tracks.

  Jingen's lips curled in a pleased sneer as he stared down at her. His necromantic senses could taste her delicious fear, and it made him eager for more of it. He drew his belt knife and slashed open her riding habit, shoving his hand inside to fondle her breasts. They were firm and sweet. He would enjoy this. Slashing open her split skirt at the crotch, he fingered her slit. The widening of her eyes in alarm betrayed the fact that his spell was loosening. Jingen did not want her crying a warning to Stygean, although he would like to have heard her scream when he entered her: it would be the closest thing to the exhilaration of the rite of mortgiefan that he was likely to get until he was ready to desert Isranon's company. Still, he could release his spell once Stygean had been dealt with. So Jingen stroked her throat and renewed his hold. He ripped a piece of her skirt free, crumpled it up, and put a rock on top of it to keep it from blowing away in the breeze. He laid down on top of her and dry humped her for several minutes before reaching inside his pants to bring his member out.

  The sound of hoof beats nearby made Jingen look up. "Later. Stygean first."

  Chinisi watched Jingen leap from rock to rock and fade into the trees without leaving a trace to show where he was. Her throat tightened, her tongue felt thick and stuck to the top of her mouth. There was no way for her to warn Stygean as she saw him ride into view.

  * * * *

  Stygean saw a place where the ground had been cleared of snow and a small form staked out in the middle of it.

  Mortgiefan?

  His heart seized painfully in his chest until he saw her move. Then he scanned the tiny glade for signs of Jingen, certain that his rival was there. He swung his leg over to dismount and felt the crackling of black energy rise up around him. He had ridden into a spell trap and triggered it. His horse screamed, reared and bolted. One foot caught in the stirrup, Stygean was thrown and dragged. Desperately, he tried to draw his sword, but the bumping kept jostling his hand. He managed to curl his body a bit to protect his head and brought the blade free. He slashed the stirrup away and tumbled across the ground, losing his grip on his sword.

  A heavy weight landed in the middle of his back sending Stygean face down in the rock sprinkled snow. Before he could rise, Jingen's hands clapped the sides of Stygean's head with a surge of power, stunning him. Stygean tried to turn over. Jingen's blade flashed, its ruby and crimson hilt catching the light for an instant before it descended, plunging the jagged obsidian blade into Stygean's back.

  Stygean jerked and stiffened, gasping for air as pain drove the breath from his lungs. "Oh gods…"

  "I said I'd kill you."

  Stygean tried to push himself up onto his knees and throw Jingen off him.

  Jingen grabbed Stygean's hair, twisting his head around to control him, and plunged the blade into Stygean twice more in quick succession.

  Stygean screamed each time the blade entered him. He shuddered; his shoulders sagged, and his eyes closed. Jingen released his head, which fell forward as his body went limp, settling into the snow face down where he lay unmoving. Laughing, Jingen turned Stygean's head to the side to expose the artery in his neck.

  "Let's see how you like it, asshole."

  Jingen's fangs lengthened, and he sank them into the artery behind Stygean's ear to get as much of the blood as he could while it was still warm.

  * * * *

  Chinisi watched Jingen straddling Stygean near the rocks. Her heart had caught in her chest when she saw the blade descend and then rise again, stained with Stygean's blood. From the angle of Jingen's head, she had a sick feeling that he was feeding.

  "Oh gods, Stygean, don't be dead," she murmured desperately. Deep down inside herself, Chinisi feared him slain.

  Battle-trained, but as yet unblooded, Chinisi calmed herself and reached for her center. With a couple of deep breaths, she was focused and studied her situation. The spells had faded while Jingen fought Stygean. She tested the stakes holding her spread-eagled. Jingen had been in a hurry to position her before Stygean could overtake them, and one of them was slightly loose in the cold earth. Chinisi bent her wrist, grasped it and pulled. It moved. She wiggled it around and around, working it up and out of the ground. Had Jingen been more prepared or an older, more experienced sa'necari, he would have done this better, and she thanked her stars for his impatient carelessness.

  She rolled half onto her side and pulled at another stake. It didn't give, so she worked the rope up it, and then over the top. Both her wrists were free. Chinisi glanced back. Jingen was still bent over Stygean, his face pressed into Stygean's neck. It sickened her, but she had to keep moving and not think about it. She worked the ropes off the stakes holding her ankles and stood up. Chinisi swiftly examined the spellcord and saw that while they had not been sealed, they had been tied firmly and she could not get them off her wrists to free her magic.

  Chinisi knelt and gathered rocks, filling one arm with them held close to her body.

  Jingen had not yet noticed her, for his back was toward her. He rose and walked backward, bent low as he dragged Stygean by the heels toward the place where he had left Chinisi. Jingen let Stygean fall and straddled him again.

  Chinisi screamed and threw her first rock. It struck Jingen in the head, and she followed it with another that caught him between the shoulders.

  He spun to his feet and faced her empty-handed. Chinisi saw that he had left the blade in Stygean's body. Stygean's blood smeared his face and lips. "Got loose did you? I'll fix that."

  Jingen ran toward her, a spell forming on his lips and in a gesture of his hands. Her power was blocked, but not her mage sight. She could see the patterns in the air. She pelted him and ran into the trees. A glance at her feet told her that she was leaving easy tracks to follow, and she debated continuing like this to draw him away from Stygean, on the chance that Stygean might still be alive, or trying to leave no tracks at all. Chinisi ran along in the snow, grateful that it was shallow in most spots, so she did not find herself stumbling through drifts of it.

  When Chinisi had left enough tracks, she doubled back by placing her feet firmly in the ones she had already left and leaped onto a rock. She left no traces on the hard surface and jumped from one to another until she ran out of them.

  He had to give up chasing her eventually. Anksha would go looking for the boys after dark the way she always did.

  Chinisi kept to the rocks and drifts of fallen pine needles, the areas that would not leave prints. She spied a large tree that appeared to have a crack along its side. Chinisi stopped and peered into it. The tree was more than half hollowed out, with more than enough space for her to squeeze into the large trunk. Carefully she picked up a small pine branch and dusted away her tracks, leaving a second set leading in the opposite direction. Then she backed up in her tracks and returned to the hollow tree, using her branch to remove traces of her passing.

  She waited there for what seemed like hours with her heart pounding horribly. The sound of horses brought her to peek through the opening in the tree. Jingen rode past her, leading all of their horses.

 
; * * * *

  Jingen noticed the angle of the sun over the treetops. He had been gone hours longer than he had meant to be; the longer he was gone, the greater the chance that his absence would be discovered; then Anksha or Nevin would be sent to look for him. Worse, Anksha made regular rounds in the late afternoon – the Beast was suspicious of them.

  Jingen gave up chasing Chinisi. With her powers blocked, exposure would kill her by morning. It was a shame to waste her after wanting her so long. At least, no one else would ever have her.

  Stygean was a different matter. Jingen needed to see if his rival still lived. Blood loss, the blade's magic and exposure would kill Stygean by morning – however, Jingen did not want to risk anyone finding the body with the blade in Stygean's back. Done right, anyone who found the bodies would think that Chinisi had done for Stygean in self-defense – assuming they found them. Jingen returned to the glade, and a small groan informed him that Stygean lived. He knelt beside him, pulled the blade out and rolled him over.

  Stygean's eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Jingen. "I hate you," Stygean snarled with barely enough breath to speak. He had no strength to move, to fight, not even to raise his arms in self-defense; and the threads of Jingen's spell still held him bound, although they were fraying. Stygean's eyes held the hollowness of despair, knowing that Jingen intended to stick him again, possibly to finish the kill rather that allow time for the blade's spells to drag him into the final darkness.

  "Hate me in death." Jingen placed his fingers on Stygean's neck to Read the suffering he created as he re-inserted the blade into each of the wounds from the front and twisted it. More pieces of the knife blade flaked off and began to crawl around inside Stygean's body. Readers would not know which way the blade had entered first. He considered sticking Stygean again and decided against it: no one would believe that Chinisi would do more than stab him a few times and flee. She was not sa'necari; she was a weak outlands woman. Instead, Jingen gave it another twist.

  Stygean jerked with a groan and went still, his eyes closing.

  Jingen considered whether to take the blade and decided against it. He didn't want it found among his belongings in case the bodies were discovered. He wrapped Stygean's fingers around the hilt and placed the piece of Chinisi's skirt in his other hand. Jingen regarded his efforts and nodded his approval: there, that was very suggestive of Chinisi having gained control of the weapon for an instant and driven it into Stygean as he tried to violate her. Jingen covered him with a quick layer of snow before retrieving the horses and riding away. He went north first and hit the main road not far from Ildyrsetts. He had to get rid of their horses in such a way as to cast suspicion elsewhere. It was a shame that it was winter, since that meant he had fewer opportunities to sell them as there were less people traveling. The closer to Ildyrsetts he got, the more nervous he became, and the hour was growing later. Then he spied a man walking. He wore furs and heavy home spun wool. Jingen dismounted and approached him. The mon's hands moved along the quarterstaff he carried as he regarded the boy. "What do you want, young master?"

  The 'master' caught Jingen by surprise, until he remembered the fine clothes he wore. This country bumpkin of a human must have taken him for someone of importance. Well, he was of importance, just not in the way the mon thought. "I have two horses to sell. Fine horses."

  "Fine horses…." The mon frowned. "Who did you steal them from? Your father?"

  Jingen lowered his eyes. "My father is dead. My mother wishes the horses sold. If you buy them, I don't have to ride all the way to Ildyrsetts and can go home and be warm again."

  The mon's eyes narrowed. "I can't give you what they're worth."

  "I'm not asking for what they're worth."

  The mon nodded, reaching into his pouch. Jingen's hand stole out to touch his cheek and he lanced in beneath the mon's guard. The mon had a simple mind, completely without protections of any kind, and Jingen thanked his stars for that. Chinisi, even spellcorded, had required more effort to still. "The person who sold them to you was tall and fair-skinned with light brown hair and a Cherdon'datari accent."

  "As you say. He was a bit off for around here."

  They completed the transaction, and Jingen rode back to the manor. He put his horse in its stall and swiftly rubbed it down. Then he strolled into the manor and up to the large meeting hall on the second floor where he found Nainee and some of the littles who were in her charge. He saw Farris' youngest child, the little girl Stygean had rescued that day. Stygean had gone to great lengths to keep Jingen away from them both. Jingen ran his tongue over his fangs and then pulled them back up again. No more Stygean. Loosestrife had tasted fine. He'd get another taste of Farris and his first taste of the child tonight. He would shove something in her mouth before he made her scream. Stygean had said she was a screamer. Watching him fang the child would help put her in the right mind-set for that.

  He walked up to Nainee, giving her a large smile. "Can I help with anything, Nainee?"

  Nainee hoisted the toddler onto her hip. "No, thank you. You're a good boy, Jingen."

  "Thank you, Nainee."

  Then he continued on. A glance through the windows showed that night had arrived. Anksha would be making her rounds soon, and he wanted to be in his room reading that book that Cordwainer had loaned him. I'm always so helpful. He snickered.

  Jingen settled on his bed and wrapped up in his blankets with an oil lamp nearby. He turned the wick to the lowest he used to read by.

  "Jingen?" Anksha asked, poking her nose in. She glanced around. "Where is Stygean?"

  Jingen closed the book and yawned. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since this morning. You want me to help you look?"

  Anksha growled deep in her throat. Jingen had an odd smell to him. She wasn't certain what it was, but it made the back of her throat crawl. "Do not leave this room."

  "Okay. I will just read a bit longer and then put out the lamp."

  Jingen laid back and folded his hands beneath his head. This was almost too easy.

  * * * *

  Chinisi found her way back to the little glade. At first, she did not see Stygean, and then her eyes were drawn to the snow pile with the tips of his fingers showing beneath. She ran to him and brushed it away from his face. Swiftly Chinisi dug Stygean out. Her heart caught once she saw him laying sprawled on his back in the snow, his cloak askew and the strange blade lodged in his ribs with his fingers curled about the hilt. Red stains spread around him and across the white-clothed ground. The runed, rust-colored hilt and broad quillions of the blade contrasted against the light blue tunic and nearly matched the stiffening stains in the cloth. Her hand hovered for a moment over the hilt, wondering whether she should pull it out and thought better of it. She saw how he shivered with cold. The snow would have suffocated him, except that his face had been in a little pocket of air.

  Stygean's eyes opened, and he regarded her in a half-focused way. The last of Jingen's spells to prevent him from fighting back had faded. Only the physical anguish remained. His voice sounded soft and breathy. "Chinisi."

  She swallowed. "I'm going to pull it out."

  He blinked, struggling to push past a fresh wave of pain and keep speaking. "No … not with your bare hands."

  "I have my gloves on."

  Chinisi drew it from his body. Stygean jerked as the blade grated against his rib bones and he groaned. Animal whimpers emerged from his lips. "It's caught. You'll have to turn it."

  Chinisi's face went pale. She bit her lower lip with a tiny nod and turned the blade a fraction.

  Stygean cried out in pain. Then the blade came free with bits of Stygean's flesh and a small chunk of something red-black that might have been torn from an internal organ. Chinisi gasped and retched, tossing the blade in the snow.

  With the blade gone, the bleeding worsened. Chinisi pulled her scarf off, rolled one corner up and stuffed it in the wound.

  Tears formed in Chinisi's eyes, ran down her cheeks and froze in the
dropping temperature. It stung her face. She mastered herself and kept more from escaping.

  "We've got to … got to get back."

  She shook her head. "The horses are gone. He took them."

  "Damn him … leave me … find your way back."

  "I couldn't, even if I wanted to." Chinisi tried to sound calm, but the edge of tension refused to leave her voice. "It's too dark already. I don't want to get lost. They'll come looking for us. My uncle will come looking for us."

  Stygean wondered if they would come looking for him. Chinisi, yes. Him, no. He had made too many mistakes. Isranon would assume the worst of him. "Chinisi…." He twisted up in agony, feeling the flakes of sharp obsidian moving inside him through his arcane senses. They would tear through to his heart by morning, if he had not already bled to death. His only comfort was that he would not rise as a rapacious undead in three days and become a threat to Chinisi, for 'when sa'necari killed sa'necari, they did it well.' They took no chances of a slain foe rising and coming after them on the third day after their death.

  His one regret was that his death would leave Chinisi alone and far away from the mansion. Chinisi hugged him tightly, and the specter of dying did not seem so terrible in the comfort of her arms.

  "I'm spellcorded. I can't use my magic," Chinisi said.

  It would dip well below freezing before dawn. Out here there was no hope for them. "Make a shelter."

  "I will. I was so afraid he'd killed you…."

  Stygean winced at her statement, not wanting to lie to her and leave her unprepared. "Be strong, Chinisi…. He has killed me. Pieces of the blade … in the wounds … can feel them. Spelled blade. Pieces moving … moving inside me … digging for my heart." Stygean's fingers dug into the flesh around his wounds, grimacing, his teeth clenching as he struggled not to scream when each wave of anguish rushed through him.