Seeker (Riders #2)(84)

The Harrow waits like it's expecting a trick. Good instincts, but it's too soon for that. I need to plan a little more. Let my leg heal. Finally it bends over my prosthetic and sniffs. "Touch?"

"Have at it."

Long fingernails the yellow color of wood glue tap the metal. Tink, tink, tink. "It moves?"

"Not here. It doesn't work here." It seems disappointed, but still interested. Still hovering around my prosthetic with fascination, like it's an alien baby. It gives me an idea. "If you take me to my horse, you can have it. All you have to do is show me where he is, Cotton."

Pause. "Give Cotton?"

"That's right. Gideon will give to Cotton."

He straightens. He's surprisingly tall-I'm used to seeing them on all fours. He looks around at the branches draped in black. At the piles of bony rags across the clearing. None of the other Harrows stir. Their wicked purr continues, filling the woods.

Cotton frees the chains binding me to the tree, grabs me under the elbows, and pitches me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

Pain slices up and down my broken leg, almost putting me out. Blood rushes to my head and a piercing noise floods my ears. Every step is agony. We only go about fifty paces before I'm off-loaded onto the dirt, thankfully on my right side so I can spare my busted leg most of the impact. Once again, though, the pain is all-consuming. I'm sweating cold and my body won't stop shaking.

"Horse," says the Harrow, pointing to a pond around thirty yards away. It's small. Surrounded by trees. Nothing more than a pool of rancid standing water. I can smell it from where I am.

With the patchy sunlight and scrim of branches hampering my view, I almost don't see Riot. He's submerged to the shoulders in the muck. Chains are looped around his neck and fastened to trees around the pond, keeping him immobilized. His mane is soaked. There's not a single ember or flame or glimmer of heat on him. What little I can see of his body is dark red, like wet brick. Even his eyes are lifeless. Lumps of cold coal. Without his fiery appearance, he's camouflaged, perfectly blending into the scenery.



       
         
       
        

When he sees me, he tries to move and makes only the smallest ripple across the scummy surface of the water.

Help me, Gideon. Help me.

He's too weak or too restrained-and I want to bawl, seeing him like that. My throat goes raw with desperation and anger.

I need a plan. I search for a rock or a stick. Anything. "Cotton, we need to have a real conversation. That kind of treatment isn't going to work for me."

"Hand," the Harrow says.

"What?"

"Hand." Cotton looks from me to my prosthetic, waiting for me to make good on my promise.

"Free my horse. Then untie me and I'll give it to you."

"Untie?"

"Yes. It's attached to me with a harness. I have to unstrap it before I give it to you."

Cotton creeps closer. His hands hover over the chains around my wrists for an instant. Then, quick as lighting, he's behind me, slamming his palm over my mouth.

He hauls me up a tree so fast I leave my stomach behind. Then he pushes me onto a thick branch, pinning me. "Watch," he says, still keeping his hand over my mouth. "Watch with Cotton?"

I can't see anything. Part of his weight is resting on my crushed leg. Tears are pouring out of my eyes and, once again, I'm on the verge of passing out. I blink hard and finally spot two figures moving through the woods. They're on foot, and moving stealthily.

My breath stops as I recognize Daryn. Seeing her unharmed is an intense relief. She's come for me. Another swell of emotion sweeps through me. It's amazing-and I'm not surprised.

But she brought Samrael.

Seeing them working together is like watching a nightmare.

I've feared something too close to this.

Being pushed aside. Losing her to him.

They stop when they're about twenty paces away. Close enough for me to see the dark circles under her eyes and the look of determination on her face.

I try to yell, but Cotton digs his weight into my leg.

Shards of broken bone spear into my muscles and I grunt, but Cotton plugs my nose and stops any sound coming from me.

"Make noise and stop breathing. Girl stop breathing. Gideon stop breathing," Cotton says into my ear. "Make noise?"

I can't get any air. I shake my head. He releases my nose.

"They're just there," Samrael says, pointing to the main cluster of Harrows, where I was tied up less than ten minutes ago. He's so close. He's speaking in a hushed voice, but his every word is crystal clear. "Remember, if we wake one of them, we wake them all."