He glanced over his shoulder at the slope that led down into that dirt circle. His grin faded. He shuddered.
What had they used that circle for? Some kind of witches’ celebration? Some bestial rite that the males feared?
He’d thought of exploring that circle, maybe even dropping his pants and taking a squat to defile it. But when he’d reached the top of the slope, he’d hit a wall of cold air that made him certain that any male who walked through it would end up with shriveled balls and a permanently limp cock.
So he was here, at the bottom of the slope, waiting for the signal to move forward. The bloodletting would have to wait. The commanders had been very firm about that. Full psychic shields to protect themselves and controlled strikes to wear down the Jeweled Blood and drive them all to the center of the village.
However, once the little bitch-Queen was caught . . .
Something passed by him, a few yards to his left, and headed up the slope.
Immediately, he extended his psychic probe and started searching.
The answer that came back from that probe was more subtle than a thought: Nothing there.
Uncertain, he sharpened his probe. If any of the villagers managed to slip past the Hayllians surrounding this privy hole, it wasn’t going to be near him.
For just a second, he thought he felt something, touched something.
Something female. Something fiercely violent and powerful.
A cold fist settled against his lower back.
Then: Nothing there.
Shaking his head, he turned back to face the village.
When the order finally came, he moved forward eagerly.
That damn circle was making him jump at shadows, was making him feel odd things, hear odd things.
Because, for just a moment, he could have sworn he heard drums.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Jared clenched his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and concentrated on feeding his Red strength to the web.
Damn you, he thought when he felt Randolf take a hard strike. Tap the strength that’s offered. Use it.
They wouldn’t use it. He’d realized that after the first couple of minutes. The males who had decided to be the main diversion would sip the strength he was providing to maintain their protective shields, but they were draining their own Jewels to strike at the Hayllians and keep the bastards from closing in too quickly.
With his inner vision, he could see the web, its spidersilk threads now colored a strong red from his Jewel. He could see the Jewel stars flare with each strike. They were all winking, constantly flaring and dimming as the fighting continued.
Another strike.
Another.
Talon’s Sapphire Jewel star flared wildly for a moment.
Jared held his breath until it steadied.
How long could they hold out? What were Thera and Lia waiting for?
He wanted to be out there, fighting with his friends, his people.
The Silver Ring kept him chained inside the tavern.
A cold gust of wind rushed over his skin, the kind of wind that made the changing leaves sound like rattles. The kind that was always a prelude to a violent autumn storm.
Jared opened his eyes.
He was inside the tavern. He shouldn’t be able to feel the wind. He was dressed. He certainly shouldn’t be able to feel it on his skin.
Then he heard the drums.
The sound singed his blood and froze it at the same time.
These drums weren’t calling the males to the dance. These drums were calling the witches to war.
And they answered.
Through the web, he felt the temper of the fight change, felt it grow colder, more savage. Merciless.
He looked out the window, trying to focus on the point where the Hayllians at the landing place—and Krelis— would enter the village.
But he didn’t see any of those things. As the wind swept over his skin again, as his blood pounded to the rhythm of the drums, he saw the web with its bright beads. He saw a dark circle surrounding it, slowly constricting as the Hayllians advanced.
He saw another circle appear beyond the dark one. Light, dark. Silver, gold. It was all those things—and it held all the answers if he could just stay quiet enough to hear them.
He raised his hand. Reached out to touch it.
A warning shout broke his concentration and the vision disappeared.
Jared tensed when he saw Randolf retreating up the road. The Warlord didn’t even glance at the Coaches. Jared silently applauded that self-control. If they could draw the Hayllians far enough into the village, Lia still might be able to get away.
Moments later, several Hayllians appeared. One of them, a Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord, wore the badge of a Master of the Guard.
Krelis looked around, then focused on the tavern, as if he could see, or at least sense, Jared standing inside. He smiled and gestured lazily.
Three Hayllian guards headed for the tavern.
The Coach door burst open.
Lia dodged the Hayllians’ grabbing hands and raced up the street.
“Lia, no!” Jared shouted. Desperate to protect her, he used Craft to blast the tavern door open.
That startled the Hayllians enough to buy her a couple of seconds.
“Lia!” Jared shouted.
“Go after her!” Krelis roared.
Before any of them could move, a bolt of Sapphire power hit Lia in the belly. Her body burst, spraying blood and guts over the street. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she flew backward.
Jared reached her first. He forgot the Hayllians. Forgot the web. Forgot his promise. Forgot everything but the woman lying on her back in the middle of the street.
“Lia.” Jared dropped to his knees. One of his hands hovered over her ruined body. The other gently stroked her hair.
Hearing footsteps, Jared raised his head and bared his teeth.
Krelis stood a few yards away.
Jared saw no regret in those hard gold eyes. Disappointment and anger, yes, but not regret.
“Jared,” Lia said weakly.
Dismissing Krelis, Jared gave her all his attention. “Hush, Lia,” he said softly. “Don’t try to talk.”
“Jared,” she gasped. “The web. Nothing else matters but the web. Everything’s keyed to you.”
“Hush, Lia.”
Her hand flailed. Her fingers found his hair. Curled. Tightened. Yanked hard.
Jared grunted in surprise.
“Hold the web,” Lia said in a voice that had an eerie quality to it.
Jared lowered his forehead until it touched hers. It didn’t matter now. It was too late now. He wouldn’t tell her that. But now, when they only had a few moments left, he would tell her something else.
“I love you, Lia,” he whispered. “I’ll always love you.”
“Remember to say it when it counts,” she replied tartly.
Stung by her tone of voice, Jared raised his head.
And watched gray eyes change to frosty green, watched the illusion of Lia’s face disappear.
He felt something gathering, gathering. Heard a roaring.
“Mother Night,” he whispered.
The link between Garth and Brock had worked so well because Garth’s Birthright Jewel was the same as Brock’s Jewel of rank.
Like Lia’s and Thera’s.
Now he understood the tartness in Lia’s psychic scent when he’d kissed her, why she and Thera had stayed so close to each other, why Lia had tried to avoid physical contact as much as possible.
Thera had linked their psychic scents together to hide the fact that Lia . . .
The roaring grew louder.
Power gathered, gathered, gathered beneath the Red.
Everything keyed to him. Keyed to his blood.