The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,84
in this valley, but down near Arathel Pass, the south-facing slopes are covered with ’em. What in Shaikar’s hells does that have to do with us, or Ruslan?”
Arathel Pass. Kiran’s chill grew deeper. He pressed a hand to the cold weight of Lizaveta’s amulet. It lay silent and still under his shirt, without any warning twinges of heat or sparks. “Ruslan and I are linked. The amulet blocks that link. But just now, I saw a vision of aspen trees in a meadow, and earlier, a view of snowy peaks. Both times, it was as if I looked for an instant through someone else’s eyes. I fear those eyes are Ruslan’s—and that he might also have seen through mine.”
Dev tensed. “You mean your amulet doesn’t work anymore, and he can find us?”
“Not directly. Believe me, I’d know it if he’d circumvented the amulet completely.” Kiran remembered all too well the crushing, inexorable pressure of Ruslan’s will on his unprotected mind. “I think he’s found a tiny flaw in the amulet’s protections, like a hairs-width crack in a cistern cover. He’ll try and widen it, to break through entirely. In the meantime, he’ll glean what information he can.”
“From whatever he sees through your eyes?” Dev frowned. “Did you have any warning, before you saw this—vision?”
Kiran shook his head, reluctantly. “I think I opened the way for Ruslan, somehow, by healing my arm—the first time it happened, I’d just drawn a little ikilhia from a tree. But the second time, I hadn’t touched anything.”
Dev thumped a hand on fissured red bark. “If he saw cinnabar forest, he’ll know we’ve made the Whitefires’ western slopes, but that’s still a broad area to search. Thank Khalmet you weren’t looking at the Elenn Gorge. Keep walking, and describe what you saw, exact as you can.”
Kiran did his best to describe every detail of both visions. Dev listened with a thoughtful scowl. He said, “Sounds like Ruslan’s in the Sondran Valley, maybe a mile below Arathel Pass. That’s four days’ ride from Kost in the ordinary way. Based on how fast he covered the distance to the pass from the Desadi Couloir, I’m guessing he can halve that. But we should still beat him to the border, if we cross tomorrow like I planned.” He sounded cautiously relieved.
“It’s not a physical race any longer,” Kiran said quietly. “If Ruslan breaks through the block on our bond before I cross the Alathian wards, the distance between us won’t matter.” His breath shortened at the thought. Ruslan had proved after the akhelashva ritual that he could crush any resistance on Kiran’s part with casual ease. Doubtless he’d first force Kiran to kill Dev, and not in any way as simple as draining Dev’s ikilhia. A demonstration of his control, a removal of a source of interference, and a punishment for Kiran, all wrapped into one.
Not something he wanted Dev to realize, this close to the border, lest Dev abandon him in favor of safety. But Dev gave Kiran a sharp, wary look, as if he’d picked up on Kiran’s thought. “How long do we have?”
“I have no idea. Days, hours, minutes...impossible to tell.” Kiran held Dev’s gaze. “Whatever supplies you need to purchase in Kost, get them quickly.”
“Oh, I will,” Dev said.
Kiran searched his face, but Dev’s expression was as unreadable as Mikail’s had always been when he chose not to share his thoughts. Sweat dampened Kiran’s hands on his pack straps. He had no choice but to place his fate in Dev’s hands, and hope Dev didn’t betray his trust as badly as Mikail had.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
(Dev)
I’d thought I’d seen Kiran twitchy with nerves before, but the hunched shoulders and restless hands I remembered paled in comparison to his behavior as we scrambled down the ravine toward the cabin. He near jumped out of his skin every time a twig cracked, and he alternated between squinting fearfully at cinnabar trees and staring holes in my back.
My own nerves weren’t too quiet, either. It didn’t take a scholar to figure out my lifespan would be measured in heartbeats if Ruslan weaseled his way past that amulet. I ignored the queasiness in my gut. Damn it, this wasn’t far different than racing to finish a climb in the face of an oncoming storm. Panic was a fool’s reponse that only led to deadly mistakes.
I stopped Kiran when we reached a gurgling rill of water bounded by a blaze of crimsonweed. “You had any more of those visions?”