Hearts of Chaos Page 20

  He pulled back. “Ever the same refrain.”

  She laughed, the edge of frustration like a dry creek bed. “And yet here you are, alive and landing on my doorstep. Don’t you know only desperation will drive the living to abandon their world? Or did you think it was so easy to cross the boundary?” She laughed again, and he could hear her heels clicking on the stones. She started to circle him, her hand light along his arm and shoulder. She leaned into his back and inhaled deeply. “What am I thinking? Of course you thought it was easy, Emory, darling. For you, the Raven knows not the meaning of failure.”

  “I failed you.”

  She pulled away again. “I was never first place in your heart. Is she?”

  “Lucia?”

  “If you have to ask, then the answer is no.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Evangeline circled again. Her hand drew loops over his chest and lightly traced a line down his abdomen. “Fair? Love is not a game of checkers you can pick up and play when the mood suits you. It’s a passionate abandon. You eat it, sleep it, breathe it. It’s a mad poison that beats in your veins, an inescapable hold—”

  “Sounds miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

  She seized the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her. He could feel the soft, sweet breath on his lips. “There is no other way. Love is an all-or-nothing game. And if you try to halve it, to stick it where it’s convenient, you will end up with nothing but sand trickling through your fingers. You will find yourself a broken shade caged by your own bitterness.”

  “A bit melodramatic—”

  “Didn’t you see them? Or did only your little poppet watch while you turned your back on those trapped along your journey? Oh, no. What am I thinking?” Her laugh was dark. “Emory Corbette would never slow his mission down.”

  “Unfair, Evie. Jack did right by you.”

  “Yes.” She let go and drew back. Her anger dissipated like the morning fog on Lake Union. “Jack was a kind man. Patient, caring, a soothing balm for my bruised heart.”

  The wind whisked through the space between them. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I had responsibilities—” He reached out to touch her, to reassure her or himself he didn’t know. He found empty air.

  “Corbette, the Kivati won’t die with you. But that iron ship you’re sailing will lead you to a lonely grave. I worry about you, darling.”

  “I’ll be fine as long as I can get out of here and find Lucia. Tell me, Evangeline. If there was any love between us once, tell me how to get out of this predicament and get the Scepter back.”

  Her sigh right against his mouth caught him off guard. “You can’t have both, dear heart. Choose.”

  “Between Lucia’s life and the fate of the world? Be serious!” Lucy, his heart whispered inside him. And he felt a great chunk of the mountain granite that made up his core crack down the middle. He staggered. Evangeline caught him.

  “Hush now,” she whispered. “You are only as strong as you need to be. Even the mountains shift over the centuries.” Her lips caught his, soft as a rose petal, and memory threw him back in time. He’d never paid much attention to the shape of her mouth, to the bit of fullness in the top, to the little thrum in her throat when she kissed him. Back then, he’d only felt passion to ease the stench of war. He’d lost himself in her to erase the horrors of the Drekar from his mind if only for a night. But he couldn’t give her a heart he’d already pledged to the Kivati, and in the end she’d left him.

  The kiss was light. Friendship and nothing more.

  “I forgive you,” she said against his lips. “There is more to you than this hatred and solitude you’ve built for yourself. But you must open to the pain if you are to experience any of the pleasure.”

  Lucia found her footing as the earthquake stopped. Corbette was nowhere to be seen through the thick thorny hedges. “Will, what do I do? Where is he?”

  Will’s mouth was thin. “Do you love him?”

  Did she love Corbette? Her feelings for him were too tangled and raw. She’d hitched her wagon to his star once, and her heart still hurt from it. “Does it matter? We need to find the Scepter and get back to the Land of the—”

  Will laughed. “You sound like him now.”

  Lucia drew herself up. “Look, you son of a wraith, I know you’ve never liked me, but I’m your best shot for seeing us succeed and finding your little slice of peace in the afterlife. So either you continue to be mysterious and we waste valuable time, or you let go of your prejudices against me and help me find him.”

  Will’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve changed.”

  “That makes two of us, ghost boy.” She planted her fists on her hips. “Move your ass.”

  With a smile, Will bowed. He held out his hand toward the maze. “Keep your claws unsheathed. You’ll need them in the maze.”

  “What’s in there?”

  “Riddles and minotaur.”

  Never ask for reason from a ghost. She strode past. Close up, the sawtooth leaves were actually small metal disks with spiked edges that were sharp enough to cut. The maze had no visible entrance, but she couldn’t push her way through. The whole thing was a metal booby trap. Wind rustled the hedges, and the metal leaves tingled like chimes. She should have noticed that it didn’t smell of green growing things, but she’d been too distracted by the appearance of the Thunderbird. The section that had swallowed Corbette was a long unbroken wall of iron thorns. “How do I get through?”

  “Use your key.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have one.”

  “Around your neck.”

  “All I have is this.” She pulled the chain with the Deadglass hanging on it. “But it just sees spirits of the dead. It’s useless here. I can see you just fine without it.”

  Will shook his head in the same disappointed gesture he’d used so often in life. “It’s a truth glass. In the Living World it sees spirits. Here, you’ll find it sees something entirely different. Open your mind.”

  She put the Deadglass to her eye and adjusted the gears. The wall of thorns came into focus. She zoomed in on the spaces between the branches. Through the glass, they weren’t so tangled together. An opening, she thought. Leaning forward for a closer look, she felt herself falling. Suddenly she was passing through the spaces with a whir of leaves in her ears. She landed hard on stones. Will was nowhere to be seen. Bars rose up on all sides with the cutting edges of leaves poking through.

  She turned around and there was Corbette. He was not alone. A gorgeous, leggy brunet in a shimmering aquamarine dress was kissing him. Her hands were tangled in his shirt. His hands clasped her forearms like he was trying to keep her rooted to the spot. His hair was mussed, his cheeks rosy. The woman had an impressive rack, not that Corbette could see it, but the way they were standing left little doubt that he’d sampled her wares before. Lucia had interrupted something intimate, and a blind rage descended over her. “Corbette,” she growled.

  The woman slowly pulled away. She whispered something to Corbette and turned to Lucia, the smile on her lips a little sad, a little angry. Lucia wanted to claw her eyes out. The woman pulled the Aether to her and it rippled across her lustrous skin, making her even more beautiful than before. The shimmer dropped away to reveal the regal elegance of a great horned Owl. She launched herself at the bars, and they bent to let her through. She flew off, leaving Lucia and a blind Corbette whose lips were still parted in memory of a kiss.

  His hands fisted at his sides, and he growled into the night. Did the Owl woman mean that much to him? His head jerked in her direction. “Evie?”

  By the Lady, he even had a pet name for her. “Nope.” Lucia shook. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Lucia!” Light broke across his face. She could almost believe him. The Corbette she knew had always been faithful to the Kivati, but had he ever been faithful to a woman? She’d let herself weave daydreams in the stardust of this place. Corbette had always been clear that he didn’
t have time for her. She’d just refused to listen.

  He took a couple steps toward her. His hands swept the air. She stepped out of his way. “Lucia, where are you?”

  She was thankful he was blind. He couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She lifted her chin. “Trying to find you. My mistake. I didn’t realize your company was so highly sought after.” A wave of hopelessness swamped her.

  He stilled, head cocked like the Raven. “How long have you been here?”

  “Long enough.” Anger filled her, but it was too strong, like a physical wind that bowled her over.

  “It’s not what it looks like—”

  “Evie? So that was Evangeline, the woman you planned to marry?”

  She watched the emotions flicker over Corbette’s face. He was usually so good at hiding what he was thinking, but now his expressions gave him away like a news ticker.

  Corbette brought his hands up in a placating gesture. “Lucia—” He growled in his throat. “I don’t like that I can’t see your face. I can’t see what you’re thinking. I can’t communicate without eyes, damn it!” He turned away from her and clenched the iron bars again. He rattled them, but they wouldn’t budge. “What do you want from me? I’ve brought you through death and trapped us here, while who knows what’s happening back home. Time is passing much faster there than it is here. We might be gone years before we have even a hope of defeating Tiamat. Will anyone be left alive? Am I striving here for nothing? I just . . . gods, I can’t give up. Not when there is a lick of hope left that I can save them.”

  “No one expects you to.”

  A black laugh. “The Lady does.” He rested his head against the bars, despair in every tendon. “Even the ghosts do.”

  The wind blew and hatred corroded Lucia’s gut. “What did Evangeline want?” The vitriol in her own voice made her stagger back. This wasn’t her. These weren’t her emotions. The maze was playing mind games with them both. It had pegged her wrong. “It’s a test,” she ground out. The ill wind blew harder. She was pushed against the bars by an invisible hand. The fingers curled around her throat. “Corbette!”

  “What is it?” He lunged in her direction, but she couldn’t speak. The hands of anger were choking her. “Lucia?” He found her shoulder in the dark and felt his way across her body. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  She managed a squeak. If this was a test, there had to be something they could do to end it. What was the maze testing? She frantically searched her memory for clues. Since she’d fallen through the maze and found Corbette with another woman, all she’d felt was jealousy and betrayal. The wind amped up those feelings, turning them into rage and hate. Reaching her hands up, she found Corbette’s face and brought it down to her level. His skin was taut across his high cheekbones. His black brows were a thick slash of concern. His black eyes swirled with a film of Aether. Frustration and panic etched his features. He cared for her deeply, and no parade of beautiful women could make her believe otherwise. This was truth.

  The invisible hands let go of her throat.

  “Emory,” she breathed.

  “Gods, I can’t protect you. I’m useless—”

  “No.” She covered his mouth with her hand. “It’s the maze talking. These emotions aren’t real. We need to hold on to the truth. No more lies between us.”

  His head dropped to rest against her forehead. “Her name was Evangeline Arnette.” He laughed grimly and shook his head. “She wanted to be my wife, and might have been, except World War II erupted and the Drekar started bombing our houses. There was always another front to fight on. Always another fire to put out.” He shut his eyes.

  She had to shut out the howl of the wind in her ears. It was hard to listen to him talk about other women, but Kivati lived much longer than humans. Corbette looked not much older than thirty-five, but he was closer to one hundred and thirty-five. Of course there had been other women before her. He’d had over a century of living before she had even been born. The maze sent a wave of jealousy to freeze the bars at her back. “Did you love her? No, don’t answer that. Just this: do you love her still?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” She took his hand and found freezing skin. She rubbed some of her heat back into his fingers. “I’d rather imagine you found some happiness with her than imagine you all alone.”

  “I’m never alone. I have the Kivati. I should have waited for you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You mean for the Crane?”

  “No.” Corbette lifted his hand to her cheek and rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. He cared for her. The wind didn’t rise with unreal emotions; this was his truth. “I never loved anyone as much as I loved the Kivati. I had too much to do to have room for a lover. And now, when there has never been more at stake . . .”

  “Now?”

  He moistened his lips, and fear gripped her. They’d found each other, skin and tongues and desire in the dark, but he still hadn’t said he loved her. The tinkle of metal leaves hushed as the maze waited along with her. Anything but the truth would ricochet back at them, a hundred times worse than before.

  Lucia chickened out. “I used the Deadglass to get here,” she said quickly. “We could try it to get out. I can’t see a door of any kind, but the Lady can’t mean to keep us here indefinitely. There will be more tests before we make it out of the maze.”

  “Lucia—”

  But her fear made the wind start up again. The sawtooth leaves jabbed into her back through the bars. “Let’s get out of here.” She pulled the Deadglass from beneath her cloak and twined her fingers with his. Focusing the small brass gears, the bars came into crystal-clear view. Every grain was illuminated, every sliver of metal a slightly different hue. A rainbow of silver, and suddenly she was falling through the bars. She squeezed Corbette’s hand as tightly as she could. Stay with me.

  The Deadglass spit them into the air, straight at the swirling sky, and then released them. Free fall. Wind ripped her stomach up into her throat as they fell toward the ground. Fly! her brain screamed. But the Crane was gone. She forced her muscles to relax, and their fall softened. Letting go of her fear completely, she welcomed the wind and the earth and the air. This was what the Lady demanded—for Lucia to trust the journey. They slowed to a gentle pace, landing softly between long rows of purple bushes with berries the color of blood.

  “We made it—” She caught sight of a figure waiting for them at the end of the long row. Her hand squeezed Corbette’s. Out of the frying pan . . . The next test just might kill her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lucia clung to Corbette. The old familiar panic washed over her.

  “Tell me,” he ordered. She shook her head. “Trust me. Tell me what it is. We’re in this together.”

  Down the dappled row of the hedge maze a dark figure waited. The domes of the palace rose behind him. The metal leaves rustled in the wind with an ominous snick-snick. The swirling light of the sky sent shadows skittering over his features, but she’d know him anywhere. As she watched, he grew. He took a step toward her. Corbette’s grip tightened on her arm.

  “Rudrick.”

  Corbette swore.

  “You can’t fight him. You can’t see. I could . . .” The maze ratcheted up her fear. She needed to face him, but she couldn’t. “We have to run.”

  He took a deep breath and touched his forehead to hers. “You know I would protect you with my last breath. I’d kill him again if I could. But Halian is right. We need to hear him out.”

  Rudrick took another step toward her, and another, and with every step he grew taller and broader, till his head topped the hedge and his body cut out the sky.

  “He’s shifting.”

  “Gods, Lucia,” Corbette said. “The way your body shakes.” Together they faced the giant looming over their path. She felt like an ant at a picnic waiting to be crushed underfoot. The sky swirled behind Rudrick, pink and purple and burnt orange. “I can’t make you do this—”

  “Lucia Cra
ne.” Rudrick’s bellow shook the ground.

  “Run,” Lucia said, and she pulled Corbette behind her, fleeing down the narrow path. The branches of the hedge ripped at her clothes. Behind her, the crash of Rudrick’s footsteps rocked the earth.

  “Wait!” Rudrick’s roar only made her run faster. Corbette stumbled behind her. She yanked him around the twists and turns of the path and knew, if she were blind, she’d never be as nimble on her feet. He kept up.

  “Hurry!” she told him. She could feel the fear catching around her chest like a steel trap. The maze took her in circles, left, right, left again.

  And then her luck ran out.

  “No. No!” She scrabbled at the hedge that cut across her path. Boxed in on three sides by cruel metal spikes and knife-edged leaves, and from the fourth, the giant came rumbling down. Taking the Deadglass from around her neck, she pointed it at the dead end. Move. Move! Where was a door? An escape. That’s what this stupid thing was good for, wasn’t it? But nothing shifted. The dead end stayed a dead end, and she and Corbette trapped with it. She swallowed. Slowly, she turned and pressed against the hedge. The thorns cut into her back. “Corbette—”

  He squeezed her hand. “Let me—”

  “No.” The whisper of the wind shushed around her, drawing her hair out from her neck, singing in her ears in a strange, minor key. Corbette leaned into her. His shirt stuck to the sweat of his back, and his skin smelled of the run and the familiar crispness of wood smoke in autumn that was all Corbette. She inhaled deeply and entwined her fingers in his shirt. His arms came around her, but they didn’t seek to confine. His protection was all comfort, lending his strength, and for the first time, she allowed herself to lean into his embrace without the fear that came with it. Corbette would never hurt her. He was not quite the same man who’d entered the Land of the Dead with her. He stood like the mighty oak: a place to shelter, to lean her weary head. The danger was all in front of her in the man who had stolen everything and ruined her life.

  “Rudrick is dead,” Corbette said.