Rogue Night (Robin of Larkspur Book 2) Read online

  The Guard frowned as he picked over her words, searching for the truth, which was what she’d given him. Why didn't he recognize that? Robin rocked on her heels as she waited for him to reply. If only she’d brought Strella with her. At least then she’d have some backup.

  “Can you describe this Ranger?” the Guard asked. He was a youngish fellow who was out of his depth with this.

  Robin suppressed a sigh, and the Guard took down what little she could recall. “He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a bad attitude. He wore winter whites instead of the usual Rangers’ uniform of variegated greens. That’s it.” Robin couldn’t remember if he had any facial hair, jewelry, or identifying marks, but neither had she really looked. That Ranger had been surly and thoroughly unhelpful, so she’d taken little notice of him after their disastrous meeting.

  Now, Robin wished she’d paid more attention to that annoying man’s physical attributes and less to his conduct. But she hadn’t, so she was stuck until someone cross-checked the schedule and made a list of likely candidates. This Guard would do that, right?

  Maybe Robin shouldn’t assume he would. He looked awfully green. He might even be a new recruit. That would explain why he was in this desolate place. “I’m sure if you check the schedule, you’ll find him. Or you could go to the infirmary and ask for Strella. She can confirm my story too. I traveled with her. She might have gotten his name since she spoke to him more than I did. He was rather curt with us.”

  Robin fiddled with the lumir crystal hanging from the second button down on her red coat while she waited. She wouldn’t go to jail. There was only one Guard. Robin would get past him. Would the silent wall of fur and muscle backing Wolf Girl up try to stop her?

  Probably. He looked strong too. Damn. That guy was a big man with a broad chest and not much under the fur he wore as a cloak except a skimpy loincloth of the same fur.

  That short furry loincloth seemed to be growing out of his more intimate parts, but at least they were covered. Shayari was home to some of the strangest people, but that’s what made her country so great and so trying at times.

  Robin averted her gaze, but her cheeks were flushed. Hopefully, everyone would chalk that up to windburn, not embarrassment for accidentally ogling that man’s private parts. But Robin set her mind to her goal again—get to the Rangers and get help to track her daughter down, and her blush faded.

  “You can't possibly believe her.” Wolf Girl speared Robin with a glare, and there was something in her eyes. Not anger, or grief, or any of the emotions that should be there. Was that woman smug about this?

  What the hell was Wolf Girl playing at? Robin took another involuntary step backward as she felt a tug on her necklace. She’d stuffed it under her coat and buttoned it up to her chin to hide its glow before walking into this trap. But it was pulling her deeper into the cave behind her. Was that because the mage whose power had created it was in there?

  What was he doing in a storeroom that couldn’t possibly belong to anyone other than the Rangers? Robin saw their castoffs everywhere her eyes landed. Did the mage she was looking for work with them?

  Wolf Girl shouted more accusations, and her fur-clad accomplice glared at Robin, but Robin just turned on her heel and fled deeper into the cave and ignored them. If that mage was here, she would find him. But a hand landed on her arm and dragged Robin back out into the tunnel before she could search for that mage.

  Robin came face-to-chest with the man in the wolf pelt, and he crushed her upper arms in his powerful hands. Oh my God, the backs of his hands were furry, and were those claws peeking out of his fingertips?

  “Let go of me!” Robin was glad she was still wearing her red brigandine under her equally red coat. Both were fashioned from tough leathery hides, but only her coat was lined with down to keep her warm. Her brigandine was meant to keep sharp things like his claws from puncturing her delicate pink skin, and it was doing a damned good job of that. But oh my God, he had claws like some wild beast.

  Chapter 2

  “She took my baby.”

  That proclamation startled Sarn out of his funk. He nearly shot to his feet to see who’d spoken, but Shade grabbed his arm and pulled hard enough to stop him. Sarn kept his eyes closed, even though every sense shrieked at him to open his glowing eyes. But he wasn't sure he wanted to be found just yet, now when discovery could end his own quest.

  They were still hidden by a pile of soft things, cloaks or blankets, maybe. The Rangers had quite a collection of both. Sarn had once sorted them then gave that up as a lost cause when all his work had been undone by one watch’s carelessness.

  “Stay down.” His friend’s veiled lips brushed his earlobe, tickling it, but there was nothing funny about any of this.

  “I can’t. I have so many questions.” Sarn opened his eyes but averted them so he didn’t accidentally catch Shade’s eyes.

  Strange things happened when Sarn looked someone in the eye, and those episodes always caused a blackout among other things. A blackout would be a bad thing right now when he was so close to finding answers. Could the same person who’d taken that woman’s child have taken his son? Were those kidnappers still here? Or had they just taken the two children then fled? Ran had been well-hidden and well-looked after. Someone must have told the kidnappers about his son and where to find him.

  Surely, not the Foundlings? They were his friends. Five of them were here in this cave because they’d come to help find Ran. But what had motivated that offer? An altruistic need to help a friend? Or guilt over betraying his son’s whereabouts?

  Sarn had no illusions. Magic might be illegal to possess and use, but there was a thriving black market for it. The son of a powerful mage would fetch a high price. But was that the kidnappers' end goal?

  It might be if Miren was mistaken about what he’d seen. That explanation made more sense than Sarn’s original theory. That faun might not be part of the Wild Hunt. Other than the description his brother had given him, Sarn had no proof that a goatish man was at all associated with the Wild Hunt.

  It didn’t make sense for a faun to be part of that group because they didn't go after kids. The Wild Hunt preferred to prey on people in their late teens and twenties. Sarn was more to their taste. Was that why they'd taken his son—to draw him out to a place of their choosing, so they could take him instead? That reasoning made far more sense than any other theory so far, and it chilled him to the core they could be that callous. Sarn hugged himself and hoped he was wrong about that. If he wasn't, then he was in far more danger than his son. But that theory failed to explain one essential point—how had the Wild Hunt found out about his son?

  Only one way came to mind—someone had sold him out. Sarn clenched his fists as a wave of anger washed over him. Magic sparked around his fingers until Sarn let it go. Vengeance wasn’t the answer. If someone was selling information about him, he needed to find out who and put a stop to that before he rescued his son. So that person couldn't warn the Wild Hunt he was coming.

  Who had sold information about his son? The Foundlings were the only people besides his brother and Shade who knew his son existed because they lived with his son's mother, Beku. Neither Shade nor Miren would ever betray him, so that just left the Foundlings.

  Five of the Foundlings had accompanied Miren and Shade to tell him what had happened to Ran. One of those orphans must be the snitch. How could they do that to him?

  Sarn covered his face with his hands. His life was a tangled web of secrets, silences, half-truths, and promises but thankfully no lies. And the only people who could have betrayed him had volunteered to help him. What the hell was he going to do? Sarn just didn't know, but he knew one thing with grim certainty. He couldn't help anyone until he figured out who to trust. To do that, Sarn needed information. But how could he get that without risking detection?

  Sarn had to go talk to the Foundlings who’d showed up outside the Rangers’ barracks even though he didn't want to. Then he had to find a way to lose
them because they couldn’t possibly accompany him on his rescue mission as anything other than a liability.

  There was no way around that now. But when Sarn moved to do just that, Shade grabbed his arm and pulled him down again. “Let go of me, Shade.”

  “No, you have to stay put, or you’ll be caught. You don’t know if there’s a Ranger out there.”

  By ‘out there,' Shade was referring to the tunnel that led from the doors of Mount Eredren to this cave. But Sarn had magic, didn’t he? He could find out if he dared use it inside the mountain. Sarn bit his lip. Did he need it badly enough to risk it? There were so many stones around him, and his magic liked them way too much. Could he keep his magic on task long enough to find out who was out there and check for any Rangers? They shouldn’t be looking for him yet, but it would be best if he stayed out of their sight. “I could check,” Sarn heard himself say, but he wasn't certain that was a good idea.

  “No, stay hidden. Let’s see how things play out.”

  “I could use magic.”

  “Don’t. You already blacked out once. Do you want that to happen again?”

  Shade was right. Sarn shook his head, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He still didn't know why he’d blacked out before. Maybe he’d tried the very same thing he’d just suggested. Another blackout would be bad especially this close together.

  Sarn rested his forehead against his knees again. He was so tall; he didn't even have to lean forward because his legs were so long. So were his arms. He could still wrap them around his knees even though Shade still held onto one.

  “Please, stay hidden. Please, my Ang—” Shade paused then awkwardly went on, leaving Sarn wondering what his friend had almost said, “We can learn much just by listening.”

  That was true, but there was another way they could get information about that woman and who she was talking to. Sarn couldn't make out most of what she said, but the tone of her voice tugged on his heartstrings, and he reminded himself he had to solve his own problems before he could help her.

  Otherwise, he'd just bring down more trouble on her head, and she didn't deserve that, not if he was understanding her correctly. “You could sneak a peek at them,” Sarn whispered into the silence that had settled between them.

  Because Shade’s eyes didn't glow. That was a great plan. Shade was clad all in gray from the top of his or her head down to his or her toes. Only Shade’s gloved hands, booted feet, and brown eyes were visible. All else was covered by swaths of gray cloth that never seemed to get in his friend's way.

  Shade could move as swiftly as a shadow and blend into the gray stone that made up almost every single inch of the tunnels down here. The Litherians must have liked those gray rocks because they were everywhere and created the perfect cover for Shade.

  Shade didn’t respond to his brilliant plan. His friend just squeezed his arm but didn't release it. Damn, Shade didn’t trust him to stay put. But how could Sarn learn what he needed to know by staying hidden behind a pile of clothes?

  “Will you do it? Will you look for me?” Sarn pressed, not willing to let this go. He wished his brother wasn’t hidden at the far end of this cave.

  Unfortunately, Miren had followed his instructions to the letter. The boy was serious about rescuing his nephew, but Miren couldn’t go. He was only eleven, and it was brutally cold out there. Besides, someday, Miren would grow up to do something important in the world. Above all else, Sarn had to protect his little brother.

  But why today of all days did Miren do what he'd asked? Sarn sighed. If Shade wouldn't go, then he had no choice but to call Miren out of hiding and ask him to go look. Miren would do it, too. His brother would do anything he asked and sending him out there might not be a bad idea.

  The Rangers knew about Miren, and they frequented this area. One might be arguing with that woman. It was likely given how close they were to the main exit from the mountain, and this cave was the Rangers’ storeroom.

  Will and four other Foundlings were also here. Sarn could ask one of them to look. But if they were seen, they would get into trouble because the Rangers didn’t know them, and Sarn wasn't sure he could trust them or their motives. But the Rangers did know Miren because Miren was his brother. If they found Miren around here, they’d look for him, and Sarn didn't want to be found.

  What a tangled mess his life had become. Sarn didn't think Miren would tell on him, not willingly, but he couldn't put his brother in that situation. It wouldn't be fair. Sarn couldn’t go either because his eyes glowed, and they'd give him away before he got close enough to see anything. That just left Shade. Sarn had to convince his friend to go. “Shade?”

  “No.”

  “Why?” Sarn fidgeted. Why was Shade being so stubborn?

  Shade squeezed his arm again, but that wasn't an answer.

  “What do you hear?” Sarn asked, because it was clear Shade had heard something he hadn't.

  Shade didn’t answer. Muffled echoes bounced around the cave, making it almost impossible for Sarn to catch more than a couple of words, because he’d lost half of his hearing in one ear to a childhood infection. The cloaks screening him from view absorbed the very sound waves he was trying and failing to parse into words. If Sarn could just see their faces, he could compensate for that deficiency with other bodily clues.

  Sarn let go of his knees and peeled back some of the layers of cloth covering them. That helped a little but not enough. “What are they saying now?”

  Shade shook his or her head. “I don’t know. They’re talking too softly for me to hear.”

  But that wasn’t true. Shade had heard something troubling. Sarn heard that little white lie loud and clear. He’d known Shade for about three years, and they’d become close enough in that time for Sarn to pick up on the subtle shift in tone signaling his friend was lying to him.

  Why would Shade lie to him? That revelation stabbed Sarn in the heart. Why now? Why about this? Sarn started to ask the question beating in his brain: ‘where were you when my son was taken?’ then stopped because Shade might have been there. But that white powder his friend was so fond of might have incapacitated Shade at the time.

  Or Shade might not have been there at all. His friend might have forgotten about that little promise to watch over Miren for him. Instead, Shade might have gone hunting for that next high even though his friend had promised not to do that anymore. Now wasn’t the time to chase down that particular truth. That could wait for later when he didn’t need his friend’s help.

  Sarn couldn’t help wondering which it had been. The hand gripping his arm didn’t shake. Shade’s grip was strong and sure. So, Shade was sober right now, not high on something. That was good because they both needed to be clear-headed to save his son.

  Should he call Shade on that lie? If Sarn did, he might jeopardize their friendship at a time when he needed it most. But that lie bothered Sarn. It had expanded to fill the space between them, and it grated on his nerves. He must do something.

  His son’s kidnappers were getting away. But he’d never defied Shade before. Shade was older than him and wiser about many things. Just the idea of going against his friend’s wishes made Sarn uncomfortable. He didn't like to make waves, but maybe he should. Maybe this once, Shade was wrong about things.

  That thought drove Sarn to thrash his way out of hiding. Cloaks and blankets slid off him as he jerked his arm free and crawled closer to the voices he strained to hear. He wove between piles of corsets, gambesons, gauntlets, and bracers. There was enough here to outfit an army of Rangers and far more than Mount Eredren's current roster could ever use even if every Ranger wore a different one every day.

  “Sarn, don’t do this,” Shade begged. When that didn’t deter Sarn, Shade grabbed his foot and yanked hard enough to undermine his balance.

  Sarn sprawled on the cold ground. Shade crawled next to him and pulled him behind a stack of crates holding who knew what as those voices swelled in volume. Shade didn’t let go. His friend had pi
nned him against the wall. “Stay hidden or our quest is done before it's even begun.”

  Sarn could have broken Shade’s grip, but he didn’t want to argue with his friend, not about this, especially when Shade had his best interests at heart. Sarn was certain of that now, but Shade was too close. Too much of his friend’s body was touching him, and his magic wasn't reacting well to that. It seeped out of his skin into his dark green tunic and trousers.

  Both were castoffs from the Rangers, and neither one fit well because Sarn was taller than all the Rangers except one. He was also rangy from back-to-back growth spurts. Regular meals had transformed him from the scared, half-dead kid the Rangers had rescued to—well, Sarn guessed he was a man now.

  He’d just turned seventeen almost two months ago. But Sarn just didn’t feel like an adult right now. Most days, he still felt like a lost, scared orphan navigating a world that too often baffled him.

  “I didn't kidnap anyone,” another woman shouted, and this time Sarn heard her clearly. Her voice rang with sincerity, and her words struck a chord.

  Sarn almost shot to his feet to defend her, but Shade held fast, and the green glow that lit the backs of his eyelids dimmed. Sarn felt strangely lightheaded then darkness winnowed away his world. Not again, he thought just before that blackness pulled him under.

  ***

  Under their gray veil, Shade smiled. Now, if only that girl would go away and leave their angel alone. Shade had lied about not hearing what she’d said and had heard every word. That troubled Shade.

  For Shade was not alone under their cloak and veil, and Shade’s other personality had powers of its own that were quite unlike anything Sarn had. Shade would use all of them and more to keep their emerald-eyed angel away from that girl, Robin.

  There was a glow about her that reminded Shade of Sarn, and Shade hated her for that. Years ago, Shade had traded the light for the dark and a chance to save their green-eyed angel.

  “I’m not sorry,” Shade said, but Sarn was out like the light in his eyes. “You belong to us, and we do not share.” Darkness filled Shade’s eyes and under their veil, their scarred face stretched as the dark thing bonded to Shade’s soul peered out at the world with hungry eyes.