PROMISE

CHAPTER 17

Hain froze, his brain wiped blank by shock, mouth open and gaping. He looked to Lilith. Found her eyes on the Vrai, her expression drawn and taut, and Hain thought he could see something like fear brimming at the edges of her icy blue eyes. Afraid of the sudden appearance of an enemy, and what that enemy might do to them.

Hain leapt from the cot without thinking. Fists clenched. Jaw tight. Intent on attack. Intent on defending his friend.

In the same moment he saw Lilith bound into the edge of his vision, and his courage swelled for an instant. Except something was wrong, he realized too late, because Lilith turned on him, her arms like steel bands around his chest. Pinning his arms at his sides.

"What are you doing?" Hain strained against her. "Lilith, it's one of them!"

"Sanger's not a threat," Lilith said, the calm in her voice at odds with the strength of her grip. "She's the healer who saved you."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" the Vrai said, sounding annoyed. "I'm a physician. Not a healer."

"Oh, Heaven and Hell, Sanger. Do you really think this is the right time to make that distinction?"

"I don't care what she is." Hain wrenched against Lilith's grip. "Just let me go!"

"No," Lilith said flatly. "Not until you stop fighting, and promise you won't do anything crazy."

"Me?" Hain almost screamed with disbelief. "Do you not see the Vrai standing right there?"

"I know what this seems like, but you have to trust me," Lilith said, voice pleading. "Hain, please."

No, he thought, and the word was a supernova in his mind. He couldn't trust her. Not like this.

"Keep him pinned." The Vrai, Sanger, rushed into the tent. "I can calm him down if I get a sedative into him."

"No." Lilith's voice was a knife. "You're not drugging him."

But Sanger didn't seem to hear. Hain watched as she drew a thin glass vial topped with a needle from a case at the foot of the cot. The thing looked long enough to pass for a dagger.

"I said no," Lilith said through clenched teeth. "I can handle this."

Sanger ignored her, coming closer, and Hain saw her clearly for the first time. She looked young as he and Lilith did, and she was thin, her face almost severe in its sharp angles. Her eyes were like moonstones, deep set and heavy lidded. Thick white curls sprouted from her head in tight ringlets that she'd drawn into a bun. Her hands were long and delicate, like something carved from bone rather than a living thing. And, Hain noticed with no small amount of surprise, missing the snarling twin wolf tattoos.

Sanger leveled the needle at his arm. "Hold him still."

Lilith let out a frustrated groan, but didn't argue. Instead, she doubled down on her grip.

Fresh panic ballooned in Hain's chest, funneling strength into Hain's muscles. As the Vrai closed the distance between them, Hain managed to bend his knees and spring back into Lilith, knocking her off balance. She bowed backward, her grip lifting him from the ground for half a second.

It was all the time Hain needed. He kicked out at the Vrai, catching her in the gut with his bare feet. She folded with a wheeze and dropped the needle before crumpling into the ground.

Lilith let out a surprised sound. Her grip slipped. Hain seized the chance, squeezing his arms tight to his sides and letting gravity yank his dead weight free. He hit the ground, tucking into a summersault that carried him out of her reach before bounding through the tent flap.

Hain exploded into a blazing day. The sun was a torch in the sky, and Hain had to squint against the brightness as he snatched details from his surroundings. He turned in place. Around him, rows of identical tents spread over knee high grass in all directions, their peaked roofs too tall to glean any sense of what lay beyond.

Then he spotted something in the grass–a thin stripe of flattened stalks. A path, he realized.

Without thinking, he bolted from the tent and onto the path. He might not know what lay at the end of it, but he was certain of what would happen if Lilith caught him.

"Hain!" Lilith's voice split the air. "Hain, wait!"

He didn't respond. Only ran harder, his white shift billowing behind him like a vapor trail. Grass stabbed into the soles of his bare feet and caught between his toes, tearing from the ground.

"Hain, please!" she said again, and it sounded closer this time.

Hain took a final right on the path between the tents and felt his heart leap into his throat. The tents ended, spilling into wide, open land. And he could see a shape beyond it. White stone. Maybe a cliff, he thought, gathering up toward the sky, its surface somehow bright as the sun on still water. If he could get to the side of it, then he might be able to climb to safety.

The sound of grass stalks crunching underfoot rose up behind him. His heart thundered, but he didn't turn. Only ran. Eyes pinned on the white cliff and the possibility of escape.

"Hain, wait!" Lilith called to him. "You don't understand!"

But Hain wouldn't wait. Couldn't wait. He had to get away from Lilith. Away from the Vrai. He loved Lilith. He cared about her. But he knew whatever awful work the Vrai had wrought on her mind had turned her against him. Why else would she have stopped him? Why else would she have brought him to them?

His steps slowed as he broke from the line of tents, breath coming hard, eyes following the grassy ground in its gentle downward slope, mouth gaping with shock at what he saw. Because the white stone cliff was clearer now, cresting from the ground to scrape the sky. Except, it wasn't a cliff, but a building bound up in glass, its white hulk rising like a pale leviathan thrusting through the sea. It stood clustered among other, smaller structures, each of them bound in that same smooth, watery glass. And beyond the buildings to right and left stood a wall of evergreens.

A haven, he thought. A haven unlike any he'd ever seen. A haven in the Godless.

Hain stared, shock sapping his breath from his lungs. His thoughts whooshed fast as flash flood waters, trying to process how this could be. Because it simply shouldn't have been possible. None of it.

He heard footsteps behind him then, and thought distantly that he ought to run. Ought to flee. But his feet held fast, rooted to the spot by shock. By disbelief.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Lilith's hand. Then her voice draped in a forced calm. He felt a prick just below the curve of his shoulder. His heart slowed. His breathing calmed. His fear drifted free from his thoughts like gossamer caught on an updraft.

Then Lilith came along side of him, her mouth tight with a pleading look that reached her eyes. She led him away, and he found himself going willingly as their legs drew shushing whispers from the grass.

And in their wake, the white woman from the tent followed.