Blood Storm: The Second Book of Lharmell Read online

  When my eyes stopped watering I noticed a dark shape in the corner, beyond where Rodden sat.

  There it was. His backpack. It was out of my reach but Rodden could get to it easily. There was no way of telling him it was there, though, without alerting Servilock. But if I distracted Servilock it might give Rodden the chance to see it for himself.

  ‘Did you see that Turning?’ I asked, my voice shrill from pain.

  Look up, you dolt, I urged Rodden. Look around. He was eyeing the knife in Servilock’s grip and for a moment I wondered if he was thinking of a way to get it from him. But the misery and fear in his eyes made my hopes plummet. ‘Did you see me kill your leader?’

  ‘Don’t provoke him, Zeraphina. It will only be worse for you,’ Rodden said.

  Stupid man. I wasn’t trying to provoke him, I was trying to distract him.

  Servilock grinned at Rodden. ‘Ah, so you can feel it?’

  ‘Feel what?’ I asked.

  Rodden nodded. ‘Yes. Please, let her go. Once was enough. Don’t make me do it again.’

  ‘Nonsense. You’ll enjoy yourself. Just like last time.’

  Rodden squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Make her – make her like –’ He cut himself off.

  ‘What, Turn her? And have a constant reminder of your betrayal? I don’t think so.’

  ‘No!’ How could Rodden ask for such a thing? And what could he feel? Thanks to the laudanum I could feel nothing. I wondered dimly where Griffin could be, and hoped she hadn’t been caught. What if the Lharmellins had discovered the yelbar gas and removed it? But if they had, surely Servilock would be gloating over our thwarted plan.

  ‘Even afterwards, I’ll remember,’ Rodden said. ‘Just like last time. But this time I won’t run away. I’ll kill you the first chance I get.’

  Well, this was more like it. ‘Don’t drink anything, Rodden. No matter what he does to me.’ Not while the bag is there. We still have a chance.

  The singing beyond our alcove reached a crescendo. Rodden moaned. A shudder went through him and he collapsed in a heap.

  ‘Rodden!’

  ‘Foolish girl,’ Servilock sneered.

  ‘What have you done to him?’

  Servilock gazed down at his former pupil writhing about on the floor. From the Turning place came the first unearthly scream of the frenzy.

  ‘No,’ I whispered.

  Servilock knelt down and stroked Rodden’s black hair from his brow. ‘It is done. I gave him the blood hours ago.’

  No!’ My screams were lost among the shrieking of the Turning ceremony. I pulled afresh at the ropes that bound my wrists but they did not give an inch. ‘Get away from him.’

  Servilock looked up, eyes flashing. ‘He was never yours, girl. He was always mine. It was just a matter of time before he came back to me. Deep down, he knew I was here.’

  ‘No, he didn’t. He searched for you in Pol.’

  Pleasure suffused his face. ‘You see. My students never desert me. They are bound to me. They love me.’

  ‘He wanted to kill you. He told me what you made him do to his family, to – that girl.’

  A thousand voices rose in ecstasy. Rodden’s back arched. There was a scream of a dying Lharmellin, sacrificed so the harming numbers could grow.

  ‘He’s going to be hungry when he wakes up. He hasn’t fed in days.’

  Rodden roared, the sound of an animal in pain.

  ‘He won’t hurt me.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ Servilock pinned me with his icy stare. ‘He’s not your Rodden any more. He’s becoming something else.’

  The singing died away. Rodden stilled. He opened his eyes.

  ‘There,’ Servilock whispered.

  I held my breath, waiting. He would know me. He had to know me.

  Slowly, Rodden pulled himself upright. His nostrils flared.

  ‘Rodden?’

  His head turned in my direction. His irises were white, the pupils pinned. Unable to help myself, I shrank back. He looked terrifying. He looked hungry.

  ‘It is messier when the blood is given before the ceremony,’ Servilock said. ‘But as you can see, it gets the job done.’ He stood back. ‘And it’s only going to get messier.’

  Rodden’s eyes locked on the blood that trickled down my chest.

  ‘It’s me. Zeraphina,’ I said.

  He gathered his legs under his body.

  ‘Rodden, it’s me.’

  At the same moment I started to say, too late, far too late, ‘Your pack, it’s behind you,’ he snarled and launched himself at me.

  I would not scream because I refused to be afraid of him. This was Rodden. Rodden who’d bandaged my cuts. Who’d kissed my cheek and once, such a long time ago it seemed now, had given me the only kiss my lips had ever known. Rodden, who could never hurt me no matter how much he feared he might.

  So why was it happening now?

  His eyes were wide, the pupils tiny black dots in his pale irises. He snarled, his breath hot on my neck. The knife flashed. It sat at an odd angle in his hands, as if he was unaware of it being in his grasp. He grabbed at me – and the snarling died away. He enfolded me in a brutal embrace and he pressed himself against me, shuddering. Behind me the knife scraped against stone.

  ‘My love,’ he whispered. I felt dampness where he pressed his cheek against my own. ‘My love.’

  My heart swelled fit to burst. He had not Turned! He knew me. Somehow, some way, the blood had not driven him out of his body. ‘Rodden. Oh, thank the stars.’ Our tears mingled. His hand stroked my hair, the knife still in his grasp. His other hand trailed over the gash on my breast.

  ‘Ilona,’ he whispered.

  I stiffened. Over Rodden’s shoulder Servilock was grinning at me. I began to struggle. ‘No. Rodden, it’s me. Zeraphina.’ I tried to push him away from me, needing to see his face, but he held me fast. ‘Rodden, please.’ I searched for the thread between us. The laudanum had begun to fade but I was sluggish and it kept slipping from my grasp. The man at the other end didn’t feel right. He was still Rodden, but there was a sticky blackness to his insides that hadn’t been there before, as if they had been coated with tar.

  ‘Your bag,’ I said desperately. ‘It’s behind you.’

  Rodden pulled back slightly and saw the blood that now coated his fingers. They dug into my flesh and the blood flowed more freely. His white eyes bored into mine. I saw the flash of silver out of the corner of my eye. The knife.

  ‘Rodden.’ The word was a thin shriek. My voice seemed to make him pause, for I didn’t feel the stab of the blade.

  If he could remember Ilona from all those years ago then he could remember me. The hand that dug into my shoulder was the one that wore my silver ring. ‘On your hand,’ I gasped. ‘Look at the ring on your hand.’

  He tightened the grip on the knife and raised it over his head.

  ‘Please,’ I begged. ‘Look at your hand.’ I angled my shoulder towards his face, trying to get him to see it. I could sense the struggle going on beneath the surface. Rodden was in there somewhere.

  ‘Whose ring is that?’ I asked, urgent, my voice a whisper so Servilock wouldn’t overhear. ‘Where did you get it? Please, you have to remember. Look,’ I said, indicating my hands above me. ‘I have the same one. Do you remember when I gave it to you on the battlements?’

  We were both breathing hard. He didn’t move, staring at me.

  ‘Say something,’ I pleaded.

  His gaze shifted to my hands. Back at his. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes and the pupils dilated for just a moment.

  Then the snarl returned.

  I would not let myself be frightened. No matter how much he snarled, how shocking his eyes looked, how hungry he was, Rodden was still in
there. And I was going to reach him. ‘Listen, you stubborn, arrogant jerk,’ I commanded, quelling the waver in my voice, ‘for once in your life listen to what I’m saying and remember who you are.’

  He opened his mouth as if to speak. I held my breath, certain he was going to say my name, and then –

  He kissed me. My heart plummeted. He didn’t know me. He still thought I was Ilona. Rodden would never kiss me like this. It was the kiss he’d given me in the ballroom in Pergamia. The kiss that was supposed to be the first, and the last. It had been a goodbye kiss, one to send me home. And now it was goodbye again. He must have kissed Ilona just like this. Just before he killed her. His arms encircled me, his hands holding me tight to his body. The hands that still held the knife. I kissed him back because it was the last thing I would ever do. He was gone. Servilock had won. The harmings had won. Tears leaked from the corners of my closed eyes. I still loved him. I would always love him, though always was almost over.

  He broke the kiss. ‘Zeraphina,’ he breathed.

  His knife cut through the ropes at my wrists and they fell away. Then he launched himself at the pack in the corner.

  I don’t know who was more shocked, me or Servilock. Rodden landed on the pack and I heard the crack of glass. A split second later a hundred glass balls shattered in unison.

  Servilock stood agog, confused by what had just happened, not knowing what the breaking glass meant.

  ‘Zeraphina,’ Rodden said again, and my name on his lips invigorated me. The knife came skittering over the rock floor towards me. I grasped the hilt in my stiff fingers.

  ‘You disobey me –’ Servilock began. But then the screams started. A handful at first, confused and high, unlike those of the Turning frenzy. Screams of agony. Then the whole Turning place beyond our alcove erupted in shrieks.

  Servilock staggered and braced himself against the cave wall.

  ‘You can feel them dying, can’t you?’ said Rodden. ‘They’re all going to die. Every last one. And you as well.’ He pulled a yelbar knife from his pack.

  My hands were cold and swollen, but I brandished my knife and faced Servilock.

  He looked between us, both free, both brandishing knives and ready to attack, as if unable to comprehend how it had happened. I could barely comprehend it myself. ‘You have killed yourselves,’ Servilock roared, and dashed out into the cave.

  He was probably right. There was a chemical smell in the air that made me feel sick and dizzy. Rodden pulled off his cloak. ‘We have to make it to the exit and seal it behind us, and we have to make it there blind. Can you run?’

  ‘Yes, but I can’t sense the direction. I was drugged –’

  ‘Just run.’ He pulled the cloak over our heads and grasped me about the waist. ‘Deep breath,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  We staggered into the Turning place. I could see nothing with the cloak over my head and my eyes squeezed shut, but I heard plenty. The Turning was in chaos. Bodies careened into us. The harmings seemed to be running about at random.

  The yelbar gas stung my eyes. My head throbbed. I stumbled over the uneven ground, my lungs nearly bursting, but I didn’t dare take a breath. Rodden tripped and fell, almost dragging me down too. I hauled on his arms and we were up and running again.

  We were no longer jostled by the crowd. The passage should have been full of escaping harmings. Where were they? Were they too stupid to get away?

  The air changed. Light forced its way through the thick cloth. Rodden threw it off us and, still running, we took great lungfuls of fresh air.

  We stopped at the edge of the trees. I could see nothing moving. Overhead the clouds were heavy but did not threaten an acid storm.

  ‘I must go back and seal the cave. Stay here and call a brant.’ He limped back, and I wondered how badly he was hurt.

  I searched the sky for brants, and then remembered. Griffin. Where was my bird? It had been days. I tried to call her with my mind but I was still so foggy. Rodden would find her. He would be able to call a brant too. I turned back and ran to the cave.

  A huge rock was being manoeuvred to block the entrance.

  From the inside.

  ‘No!’ The scream tore through me. I doubled my speed and slammed into the rock. It didn’t budge an inch. ‘Rodden.’ I pushed at it with all my strength. ‘What are you doing? You can’t stay in there. You’ll die.’ I scrabbled at the stone.

  ‘Get away, Zeraphina.’ I could hear him clearly despite the barrier between us. There were gaps where the rock didn’t quite meet. ‘You have to leave.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere without you. How could you trick me like this?’

  ‘I’m sorry. You would never have let me go back in.’

  ‘You’re right about that. Come out here this instant.’

  ‘I can’t. It’s over for me. I’m Turned.’

  ‘You’re not – you’re fine. You came back.’

  ‘It won’t last. I can’t resist the blood forever. I can already feel it changing me again. Which is why you must leave now.’

  ‘But I love you,’ I burst out.

  His voice softened. ‘I know you do. I love you too.’

  Shock made me step back. I stared at the rock. ‘Say my name,’ I said. ‘Say you know who I am.’

  ‘I love you, Zeraphina.’

  A great heaving sob took my voice away.

  ‘From the moment I first heard you all the way off in Amentia, I’ve loved you. I couldn’t keep myself away. That’s why I stole your ring, so I would have a little piece of you everywhere I went. Why I arranged for your sister to marry Amis. To draw you closer, even though I knew it was wrong. I couldn’t believe there was someone else like me. Someone whose insides felt like my own. You always believed in me, even after you knew the truth. But deep down I knew that it would have to end this way. I’ve done some terrible things. Happiness was never meant to be mine.’

  My voice shook with unshed tears. ‘But why do you only say this now? Why couldn’t you have told me before, when you could have held me? How can I tell you that I love you with this rock between us? Please, come out so I can tell you, or let me come in because I don’t want to leave without you, no matter where you go. Do you hear? Take me with you.’

  The yelbar gas would be spreading. It wouldn’t be long before it reached him.

  ‘We could run away,’ I went on desperately. ‘We could go to the Jarbin. Be with Uwin and Oilif. She ran away, and look at them. They are so happy together. That could be us.’

  ‘You know it can’t. I tried so hard to make this end differently. But look what we have achieved. I think we have killed every Turned harming in Lharmell. All but one. The last one has to die as well. I’m going back down the passage now, and you must find a brant and fly home. Don’t let all this be for nothing.’

  ‘No, Rodden. Don’t go, not yet.’ I thought frantically for a way to delay him. ‘You can’t leave me yet.’

  But he was drawing away. I could feel it. The laudanum had faded just enough and I felt the thread between us. I tugged on it hard. As hard as I could, knowing it would hurt him, and not caring. He faltered. He was already so weak from the beating. But he continued down the passage.

  And then something happened. Something like wildfire racing through a dry forest. I heard a distant cry. Orange poison raced down the thread towards me and exploded in my chest. I reeled backwards, falling to my knees and retching. Tears ran down my face and pattered on the dry leaves.

  No.

  I sent out clumsy thought-fingers, feeling for him.

  ‘Rodden,’ I called, pressing my face to the gaps in the rock.

  It couldn’t have been him. That cry had been another harming. He was still just behind the rock, waiting for me to leave so he could hide himself away in Verapine. Kill the last of the harm
ings without putting me in danger.

  I hunted for the thread, I searched for it further and further down the passage.

  But it wasn’t there. He was gone.

  I screamed and the sky, only just beginning to lighten, darkened again into night. An eagle’s cry rent the air; my eagle. She shrieked again and again, each call sounding closer.

  The clouds boiled with the power of my anguish. Bolts of lightning ripped through the heavens and thunder rumbled over the land. The sky opened, and sheets of freezing rain poured from the clouds as if they would drown all beneath them.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you to all my friends and family who read Blood Storm through its various drafts, inspired me, and supported me beyond anything I expected. Your encouragement and enthusiasm make me so very happy. Especially the ‘kisses for your brain’. And my apologies to those whom I gave nightmares!

  The team at Random House Australia have been a joy to work with, again. Thank you so much Kimberley for your editing and insight; Zoe for your excitement; and Astred for the cover. THE COVER. Wow. I am one lucky author. And thanks of course to Sarana and Dorothy for all your marketing and publicity work.

  I have to give a shout out to my beautiful cover girl, Ana Gremard, who not only embodies the spirit of Zeraphina effortlessly, but is model and photographer in one.

  I can’t imagine what it was like to write before there were blogs and Twitter, but I’m so grateful that there are now. Thank you to the Aussie blogosphere (and beyond) for getting behind Blood Song. Your support has been amazing.

  And thank you of course to Ginger Clark, who’s always got my back.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rhiannon Hart remembers writing before she could read, puzzling over the strange squiggles in Jeremiah and the Dark Woods by Janet and Alan Ahlberg and putting her own words in their places. Her first love was Jareth the Goblin King at the tender age of eight. She wrote fan fiction in high school but she’d never admit to it out loud, so don’t ask. When she’s not reading or writing she is belly dancing, chasing after other people’s cats, or putting the pedal to the floor at her sewing machine. She grew up in north-western Australia and currently resides in Melbourne, where she works in marketing. Rhiannon has been published in the Australian Book Review, Magpies, Viewpoint and mamamia.com.au and blogs at rhiannon-hart.blogspot.com. Rhiannon is currently working on the Third Book of Lharmell.