Sands of Aggar: Amazons of Aggar Book 3 (15 page)

Jacquin shifted in her sleep and Adrian glanced back at her again. Even in just the light of the full moon Adrian could see the pained expression on Jacquin’s face. Something was unsettling her. Something different than her sickness.

“Jacquin?”

Jacquin let out a soft whimper in her sleep and Dread sputtered in warning. Adrian’s head whipped around, searching for the source of both alarms. In the distance she saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky, the charred outlines of a small oasis casting dark shadows across the sand. Adrian led the wagon toward the smoke.

Adrian pulled the wagon to a stop on the outskirts of the charred oasis and leapt down into the sand. She patted Dread’s neck. “Watch the cart.”

Adrian crept forward, her hand balled into a fist, the energy of her destruction magic making the skin of her palm buzz. The longer she was near Jacquin the harder it was becoming to call on her learned magic. Still, it was easy enough to conjure a fireball in case of attack.

The oasis was barely ten paces across, a tiny watering hold surrounded with a half dozen palm trees. She ran her hands over a blackened tree, the ashy residue clinging to her palms. There were sharp gouges in the trunks, the lines too thin and precise to be animal-made.

The watering hole had been drained, a deep trench in its place. Adrian had never seen a sandworm, but she doubted it burrowed in a square grid. The scent of burnt bark still lingered in the air. The wet sand from the pool’s residue held the hole’s shape, not yet reclaimed by the billowing sands of the surrounding desert. It hadn’t been drained long ago. Days at most. Someone had been looking for something. By all appearances, they’d found it.

Dread whinnied, the high-pitched sound piercing the stillness of the night, and Adrian immediately ran back to the cabin. Jacquin was rustling, bent in on herself as if about to retch, but instead of holding her stomach she held her head.

Adrian bounded into the wagon and held her, hoping the motion would pull her out of her dreams, but as Jacquin turned to her Adrian saw slim trails of blood dripping out of the corner of her eyes and from her nose. Adrian gasped, suddenly unable to breathe, her heart pounding a rapid rhythm against her ribs.

“Jacquin? Jacquin, wake up!” Jacquin’s arms flew, catching Adrian in the side of the face, the strength of the blow shocking her. “Jacquin! Please.”

Jacquin’s eyes eased open, her irises clouded, another swell of blood rolling down her cheeks. “North. She’s going north.”

Adrian was struck with a cold understanding. There was only one reason the Circle would turn around so quickly. They had found what they were looking for. They were returning to the Core.

Adrian held Jacquin tightly as she began to weep silently, still trapped in her visions. No wonder she was getting worse; Rox was traveling in the opposite direction and the Circle would be traveling fast if they were bent on home. There was very little chance Adrian would be able to catch them on the way with a sick partner in her wagon. If she was going to confront Rox, it would be in the Core.

Adrian closed her eyes, memories of her first home, her family, flitting through her thoughts, rising from the back of her mind like a gust of icy wind. She had left the barren tundras of the Core behind long ago, both physically when she’d fled for her life and mentally when she turned her back on the way she was raised. Years with the Grey Exiles, those lucky enough to escape the Core with their lives, had made going back a near-impossibility. Now she was traveling back not to kill the Twins, but for a woman.

“I’ve grown weak,” she grunted.

Jacquin clung to her, trembling in her arms and Adrian kissed the top of her head. She might be weak, but her resolve was as strong as ever. And she was going to reunite her bondmates, Twins or no.

She kissed Jacquin again and slowly disentangled herself from the sick woman. “Don’t worry, my Love. We’re getting closer.”

Rox sat up slowly, wiping her mouth with the edge of her sleeve. The stone floor of her room in the Core was ice cold beneath her hands and legs as she knelt over the small pail. She’d been getting sick multiple times a day for the last three days and her body was starting to feel the effects. She’d lost weight, her muscles tired and heavy. She didn’t know where she’d gotten sick, none of the Circle had shown the same symptoms.

“Like morning sickness all over again,” she muttered.

Still, it didn’t matter. The Circle had found what they were looking for buried in the middle of the desert. Rox had seen the artifact as Calder exhumed it, but she couldn’t tell what it was. It had appeared to be a twisted chunk of metal, obviously a fragment of a greater whole. It had taken less than an hour after reporting the discovery of the artifact for the call to return to the Core had been sent to Calder. There had been no raids on the way back, the party barely stopping to sleep. The mission was over and they’d been called home.

Rox stood on shaky legs, steeling herself for her meeting with the Twins. The artifact, even her sickness didn’t matter. She had completed her mission. The Twins would pay her, release Serena, and everything would be over. Rox would take her daughter and they’d travel as far from the Core as possible.

Rox closed her eyes and could feel warm sun on her face, the sand beneath her feet, the warmth of Jacquin and Adrian pressed tight against her. Serena could benefit from Adrian’s strength and Jacquin’s joy. They would both need to heal from their time with the Core. Perhaps they’d return to Oasis. Perhaps Adrian and Jacquin would forgive her for leaving once they knew the truth.

Rox paced the small, windowless barrack. She was still nauseous but she was too anxious to rest. The Twins wouldn’t make her a priority – it could be days before they spoke with her – but they could call at any moment.

Rox nibbled at her thumbnail, a nervous twitch she hadn’t caught herself doing since childhood. Serena had to be nearby. The Twins didn’t leave loose ends. They would want to make good on their contract as soon as possible. If she could find out where Serena was being held… She shook her head. She was too close to do anything that might put her contract with the Twins in jeopardy.

Rox lay on her narrow cot and stared at the ceiling, her face a firm, still mask. She let out a soft breath and her mind instantly drifted back to the desert. She could see Jacquin dancing around a towering bonfire, Adrian sitting in the sand, polishing her sword. She heard Serena’s laugh as she bounded through the sand, Fisk peeking out of her pocket. The sun was low in the sky, the night warm and calm, the scents of fire and spice so different than the ice and steel of the Core.

Rox’s stomach began to calm as drifted deeper into the paradise in her mind. For a moment everything went still. The heavy darkness of the Core slipped away for a future of safety and love. Serena would love the desert. No one would ever harm her again with Adrian and Jacquin helping Rox watch over her. Rox pushed aside the fact that she had abandoned her lovers, that they might not take her back. For a moment, she let herself hope. She let herself believe that things could get better after being a guardian for the Twins.

A sharp rap on the door pulled her out of her daydream and a young messenger boy stepped into her room. “The masters have called a meeting with all Circle members.”

“I’m not a member of the Circle,” Rox rebutted.

“They asked that you be there.”

Rox drew a deep breath and followed the boy out the door to throne room. She felt a deep stillness as she stepped into the room, the ceilings towering high above her head. She hadn’t been intimidated by the grandeur of the room the first time she’d been led there, bound and covered in Core blood, and she wasn’t impressed now. Still, it didn’t escape her that she’d only walked the throne room floor twice – once in chains, this time as a guest.

She took her seat along the wall, waiting for the Twins to arrive. She didn’t understand why she had been invited; she’d never been trusted with the true intent of the mission and her interest in the Twins’ plans only extended to her daughter’s well-being. She didn’t want to be part of their inner circle. The less she knew, the more insignificant she’d be to the masters of the Core. If Rox had her way, her contract and her daughter’s life would be nothing more than loose paperwork. If she was important, her potential to damage the Core would be too great for them to let her go freely.

The Twins entered without fanfare, their strides perfectly in sync. They gave off a casual air, always dressing in light armor, refusing crowns or any mark of their birthright beyond their cloaks, but Rox could see through the charade. Their hall was too grand, their act of complete unison too rehearsed. They had carefully crafted their image to enthrall the people of the Core, to maintain their mystery. Behind their calm facades were ruthless eyes. They’d been playing at politics and war for too long to be so still.

Laik, the elder of the two, turned to the Circle. “Foxsen and I would like to commend you all on your successful mission. The set of relics you reclaimed are indeed genuine and complete. The whispers across Aggar are that you were merely a band of marauders. You have done a commendable job. And as a reward, we want you all to be present for the fruits of your labors.”

Foxsen clapped and the doors to the throne room opened again. A mage entered, a silver tray in his hands decorated with small, curling and jagged pieces of metal. Rox realized, seeing all the artifacts together, that they were pieces of a puzzle. Her stomach turned, another wave of nausea washing over her. She didn’t want to see this. She didn’t want to know.

Foxsen took the tray from the mage and placed the pieces on a small table before the Twins’ thrones as Laik continued to speak. “Since the dawn of time there has been one great threat on Aggar, one source of power that has constantly led to corruption and foreign invasion: Blue Sights. Blue Sights threaten our entire way of life. Their connection to the
amarin
of every living thing on Aggar has made them some of the greatest manipulators in history. Without Blue Sights, there would have been no Terran invasion, no Amazon inundation. Every nation that has risen on this land has been brought down due in part to a Blue Sight. If we are to grow stronger, to expand our empire, we must see this threat removed.”

Rox clenched her jaw, a frozen fear racing beneath her skin. No wonder Adrian was fighting back against the Twins. She must have known their plans. The plans Rox had helped bring to fruition.

Laik continued as Foxsen focused on assembling the artifacts, piecing them back together into an orb-shaped puzzle box. “Their numbers were severely cut down during the Purge but they still exist. Adaptation and evolution has allowed many of them to hide in plain sight, but there is a way to bring them out into the open. A way to end the Blue Sight menace once and for all.”

Foxsen finished the orb and held it before his brother. For the first time, the younger twin acknowledged the Circle. “The ancients once used these orbs to call on the mages of Aggar, to gather the powerful to one location in times of great need. They were once used by rebels to massacre a clan of seers, and the elders of magic had them destroyed, the pieces scattered. But we’ve found one. Assembled it. We can use its magic to call all Blue Sights to the same place and destroy them. We will wipe the species from the face of the planet and, when we take power, we will cull every newborn Blue Sight and the carriers of the Blue Sight gene until it’s eradicated forever.”

The cold spread to every part of Rox until she was too numb to feel anything anymore. Adrian. She had to warn Adrian.

Foxsen turned to his brother, the orb resting in his hands. Laik placed his hands on top of the orb, both twins instantly surrounded by a bright, crimson red light. The orb, however, remained unchanged. Rox held her breath. Perhaps the orb was too old to be revived or it hadn’t been assembled properly.

The Twins looked at each other, their faces slowly sinking into expressions of wild rage, their magic burning brighter until they appeared cloaked in flame. A blast of heat beat against her skin, like standing too close to a kiln, but the orb still remained dead.

The Twins’ calm disappeared with their magical flames. Barely-contained rage and frustration etched into their features as they returned the orb to the tray. “Get out,” Laik ordered.

The Circle instantly stood, moving toward the doors. Rox followed, trying to escape the Twins unnoticed, her mind spinning trying to find a way to send word to Adrian about the orb.

“Not you, Rox.” Rox paused, suddenly paralyzed. The last thing she needed was the Twins calling her name when obviously enraged. A handful of Circle members hesitated, curious about what was going to happen.

She slowly turned. “Sir?”

Foxsen beckoned her closer. “We have your contract to discuss.”

Rox approached the dais, her heart a chaos of emotion and warning. “I can take my daughter and go. No homestead. Nothing. I can disappear,” Rox assured them.

“Your daughter is being prepped for sale. You didn’t hold to your end of the contract.”

Rox stopped breathing, her heart falling silent in her chest. “I did everything you told me to do.”

“Gryert was killed.”

“While on a solo mission!” Rox felt her cheeks color with desperation and fury. “I was with the main party!”

Laik crossed his arms over his chest. A slight smirk tugged at his lips. “He was your charge.”

“That’s not fair, the contract explicitly states I am not in charge of protection when we are at rest stops.”

“Gryert was on a mission, therefore he was not resting. You are free. Your help with the Circle was invaluable. But your daughter is ours.”

All logical thought fled Rox’s mind, filled instead with rage and grief. She screamed, leaping for the Twins, but a wave of Foxsen’s hand instantly made her body too heavy to move. She fell to the ground hard, her head cracking against the floor.

She fought against the spell, trying to get to the Twins, screaming and gnashing her teeth at them like a rabid beast.

Laik shouted. “Guards! Take her to the dungeon.”

Circle members instantly surrounded her, grabbing for her. She fought them away, pushing past the boundaries of the spell until she could use her arms again. She swiped and bit at their legs, fighting to get up when she fell back to the floor, a sharp, cracking snap echoing through the room. Rox grunted as another sharp pain spread through her ribs and stomach. She looked up. Calder.

Calder’s eyes were bright with maniacal glee, the woman he’d dreamt of killing now unprotected. He kicked her a dozen times, his booted foot finding her ribs and stomach over and over until she retched. He bent and grabbed her face, genuinely smiling for the first time since Rox had met him.

“Not too hard, Calder. Don’t damage her. She’ll go on the block with her daughter.”

Rox fought again, this time in an attempt to flee. She broke through of the magic, lashing out with a new intensity. She was wild. Berserk. She had to get away. Small sprays of blood speckled the Twins’ floor.

Three Circle members surrounded her, grabbing her and pinning her to the ground. Calder grabbed her face, pulling her up to meet her eyes. Rox fought him, shaking her head and trying to angle out of his grasp but he fought her, wrapping his arms around her head as if to break her neck.

“Do you feel that, Rox? That weight. That helplessness? You’re no longer contracted. Just a slave. I have a new bag of gold and all the time in the world.”

“Enough, Calder,” Laik called. “We’ll let the stocks decide.”

Calder released her as the rest of her captors bound her and lifted her off the ground, keeping her tightly contained as they dragged her out of the throne room toward the dungeons. She continued to fight, nearly slipping one of her bonds when Foxsen approached, moving unnaturally fast, his hand reaching out to grab her throat. A flash of burning heat spread up to her face and she instantly fell unconscious.

Rox woke in darkness, a cold breeze flooding across her skin. She recognized the sensation, the smell. She was in the Core prisons again.

She pushed up on her hands and knees, struggling to find her strength. Her body screamed at each movement, a dozen or more bruises sprouting across her body from where the Circle had beaten her. Her skin was already numb with cold. She’d been stripped of everything but her underclothes – her knife, her leathers, all gone.

She heard a sharp chirp and the scurry of tiny feet and she felt a small burst of relief. Fisk had always been smart. He must have hidden as she was taken into the prison.

Rox leaned back against the stone wall of her cell as Fisk squeezed through the bars and raced into her arms. He was warm and soft, something familiar as her world shattered around her. She wondered where Serena was, if she was still safe, if she knew what had happened. She held Fisk tighter. When would Serena stop hoping for her mother to return?

Rox held Fisk tighter and for the first time since her village had been attacked by the Circle, Rox wept. Fisk chirped and hummed, snuggling close, trying to give his human some comfort, but Rox couldn’t feel anything but grief, loss, hopelessness. Every emotion she’d been suppressing seized control of her body and mind, every death she’d facilitated, every questionable moral call, every weakness, every fear. She should have searched for Serena the moment she arrived. She shouldn’t have trusted the Twins to honor their contract.

Rox curled in on herself, her sobs hard, body-wracking bursts that shot from her lungs and stung her mouth. She felt another swell of nausea and she succumbed to whatever sickness raged in her body. It didn’t matter anymore. She’d failed.

“Not so strong without the Twins to protect you, are you?” The voice invaded Rox’s privacy, instantly pulling her emotions deeper inside, quieting her sobs. She nudged Fisk away, her pet silently taking her direction and running to hide in the furthest corner of the cell. “Oh please. Don’t stop on my account.”