Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

55

The sun bled as it sank below the black tree line the next day. Watching the sunset, Mhera was reminded of her vision of fire and death.

She stood at Matei's side outside the infirmary. It had been impossible to separate, of course. In the calm before the storm of battle, there was too much unspoken between them to hope for peace. She'd had to follow him like a shadow the entire day, enduring in silence as he and his people prepared for the coming of the empire's men, haunted by the news of what was happening in the city.

There was not much they could do. The rangers set up a perimeter. Those who could fight made ready their weapons. Nimble-fingered fletchers worked all day making arrows. After much debate, it was decided that the longhouse would be the best place for those who could not fight, and most of the very young or very old would remain there. Aun, for her part, refused to leave the infirmary; she did not want to crowd her tools and potions into the safe house with all those frightened folk. And Mhera refused to go, too. She would be far safer with kind-hearted Aun than in a room of folk fearing death at her own people's hands. She did not think ahead to what she must do if she stayed in the Arcborn infirmary during the coming violence. She did not have the presence of mind to worry about being compelled to help Aun treat the wounded who were killing her uncle's men.

All the while, watching these preparations, Mhera grappled with her shame, her guilt, and her fear.

Had she done the right thing? Mhera tried to console herself knowing that even had she kept her silence, Atha would have come. But Atha's warning was only half a warning, and Mhera hadn't kept her silence. She could not make sense of her own decision. The only thing she knew was that she had given them what they needed to be ready for the coming of the imperial soldiers.

Who was she? A betrayer of the Starborn cause, of her family? Or a defender of innocent lives? She had always thought the empire defended innocent lives. But thinking of what Atha said had happened in the city, she could no longer trust that belief. The bloodstones ... Virri ...

Matei was the one who broke the silence. "Anything?"

He was not speaking to Mhera. She looked up to see a ranger approaching with a hand on the hilt of her sword. The cowled woman shook her head. "No. We hear nothing. We see nothing." She hesitated. "Perhaps they will not make it as far as Hanpe. Perhaps the spell will not work for them."

Matei quelled the ranger with a gesture. "Go. Do not let hope make you complacent."

The woman nodded. "No—never that," she said, and went away.

"Maybe she's right," Mhera said.

"No. They're coming," Matei said. "We know now the truth in what you Saw." He folded his arms. "Go take your rest, Mhera, unless you plan to fight."

Matei was staring down the road that ran through the settlement, the road down which they had come only a few days before. A fragment of Mhera's vision came back to her. In the burning sunset light, she fancied she could see it: the road of blood.

"I cannot go," she said, pushing away the memory.

"I will stay here by the infirmary. Close enough for the binding."

"But if they come ..."

"I'll fight from here."

Mhera wrapped her arms around herself. She dared a glance at Matei. As the world darkened around them, his face was silhouetted against the flaming sky, the planes of his hard features highlighted in gold. She suddenly realized as she had not before that Matei would do battle with the others. He would fight. He would raise the power from his blood and deal death—or be killed.