Madness of the Horde by Zoey Draven

Chapter Forty-Six

When I woke next, I saw Davik dressing in front of his chests. My body felt strangely numb, my limbs tingling and heavy, but there was very little pain. A welcome relief, one I didn’t understand.

I watched him for a few moments in quiet, feeling my chest ache at the sight. His jaw was tight, his lips downturned into his familiar scowl. He was securing….armor? Hardened straps of leather that covered the entirety of his broad arms wrapped around them like the cuffs around his wrists. Over his chest, he wore a black tunic made of the same material that molded to him like a second skin.

His hair was tied back, exposing the sharpness of his features. After he secured the leather to his forearms, he bent, hurriedly pulling on his boots.

“Davik,” I whispered.

His head jerked towards me. We were alone. The voliki was quiet. The only sound was him dressing and the gentle, occasional crackles from the fire basin. I was warm, I realized, not freezing. I felt a sheen of sweat across my forehead, felt my hair sticking to the back of my neck underneath me.

Anything was better than that icy chill, however. That icy chill that seemed to scrape away at my bones from the inside out.

He approached me quickly, dropping down to his knees beside the bed of furs. The bed he had once called ‘ours.’

“Leikavi,” he rasped, reaching out to touch me before he hesitated. I remembered the pain of being touched as the vovic coursed in my veins but the pain was dampened now, a dull ache and nothing more.

My hand lifted and caught his wrist, my fingers sliding up until I could feel his calloused, rough palm, made from years and years with a sword in his grip, no doubt.

His forehead dropped to mine though he was careful with his weight. His lips brushed my nose, then my cheek, before he kissed my mouth and I sighed against him.

My voice was hoarse and scratchy as I asked, “What happened?”

I remembered the tree. I almost shuddered with that memory because it would forever be seared into my mind. I remembered…Devina? I remembered Davik, though only briefly. I didn’t remember how we’d returned to the horde.

“I found you,” he said. He paused. Then he said, “Nik. Actually, Devina led me to you. In the ancient groves.”

I stilled. He pulled back slightly so he could look down at my face. His palm smoothed back my hair, his touch so gentle that it made me want to cry. The expression in his eyes…that also made me want to cry.

“And how do you feel about that?” I whispered.

“I do not know,” he admitted gruffly. His eyes tracked over my face. “How long have you known?”

“That night…when you saw her in here.”

The night we’d first had sex. He remembered it.

“I felt something too, though I don’t see her the way you do,” I murmured, a million words bubbling up in my throat, words that I hadn’t been able to voice before. “She’s come to me though. She’s come to me in dreams. The shadows that you see, they are real. The shadows you have seen your entire life are not a result of madness. You have a gift. Just like I do. And you should not fear it. I think she wants you to understand that.”

He’d worked that out for himself, I saw. Though he didn’t quite see it as a gift. It was more like a curse to him, especially since his sister came to him the most.

I feared I didn’t have much time left and I wanted him to understand this before…whatever came next.

“Devina asked me to help her. To help you,” I whispered, my vision blurring with tears. “I just—I don’t know how.”

“What did she ask of you?” he rasped.

“Nothing,” I told him. “She just said that the both of you can never be whole unless you let go of her.”

His brows drew together, pained.

“She said she wants you to free her. That she thought I could help you do that, but I have no idea how. And I want to help…I want to help before it’s too late.”

“Pevkell,” he murmured. His fingers brushed my cheek, so gentle. “Enough, leikavi. Do not say that.”

“I want to help you, Davik,” I whispered, pleading with him through my tears. He wiped them away.

“You can help me when you are well again, Vienne,” he said quietly.

“I need vovic,” I told him. I tried to smile, but it was sad. “And the Ghertun will never give it to you.”

“You are right,” Davik said. “Lozza will not give me vovic. Instead, he will give me the cure, to free you from this forever. He will give me your family. He will give me you. Until the end of our days, leikavi.”

His tone was so confident that I almost felt hope within my breast. “Davik…”

“I am sorry, Vienne,” he continued, a startling warmth in his gaze, one I’d only ever caught hints of during our time together, “but you will be stuck with the Mad Horde King for good after this. You will have to live out your life at his side and him at yours. You will have to warm his bed on the coldest of nights. You will have to be patient with him because his temper runs hot and despite what you believe, he is a little insane.”

The sound that came from me was almost a laugh. “And what do I get in return?”

His voice dropped, deepening. “You will have his love.”

My breath hitched.

“He will give you everything you ever wanted. He would lay the world at your feet if he could. Because you deserve that and more.”

The words he spoke would’ve been cruel if they hadn’t been so beautiful.

Because he was detailing a life that I wanted with him but might not get the chance to have.

I knew where he was going. And as certainly as I knew that, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“When do you leave?” I said, looking down at the Dakkari armor covering his chest.

“Soon,” he murmured. “The Vorakkar of Rath Kitala will accompany me.”

“Please tell me you will not go to war for this.”

“There is not enough time for that now, leikavi. War will wait. But it will come for the Ghertun in time,” he said. “My priority is you. I will return in two days, lysi?”

“Let me go with you,” I pleaded. “I can sway Lozza’s mind.”

Maybe I can see my family too, I thought quietly. One last time.

“Leikavi,” he rasped. “You are in no state to travel. Believe me, I have thought about it. About having you near once I got the cure. But we will ride hard. The Killup gave you a tonic for the pain but they do not know how long it will last. It will be quicker if I leave you here. A cart to carry you will only slow us down.”

I shook my head, but I knew he was right. I was a burden in this state. I could barely feel my limbs and my head felt heavy. And once the tonic wore off and the pain returned…my screams would echo around the eastlands. I would be a distraction.

Grief and panic struck my chest, more painful than the vovic. Would this be the last time that I saw him?

“Have faith, Vienne,” he whispered to me, leaning forward to brush his lips across mine. “For the first time in a long time, I do.”

* * *

Not long after Davik left,I felt something wake me. I jerked out of the dream I’d been having, though I couldn’t remember it.

Blinking my eyes open, I felt my stomach was cramped up, nausea building, the icy tendrils of pain beginning to return to me.

No.

“Kalles,” came a voice and when I flicked my eyes to the entrance, I saw Davik’s pujerak standing there. “I promised him I would check in on you often.”

He came inside. The healer had been here not too long ago to give me another dose of the Killup’s tonic but it was obvious that the pain was mounting.

“I—I thought you’d be with him,” I murmured.

“Nik,” he said, coming to my side. He lifted the cool cloth that the healer had left on my forehead and refreshed it in cool water before replacing it. “He left me in charge of the horde in his absence in case of…”

He trailed off but I knew what he meant.

“You think the Ghertun would attack while he is gone?”

“The horde is always weaker when its Vorakkar is gone,” the pujerak replied. “And the Ghertun have eyes everywhere, it seems.”

“A part of me wishes they would come,” I told him, my voice sounding weak even to my own ears. “Maybe it would buy me more time.”

I wanted that time. To see him again. To see my family.

“Neffar? Time?”

“Nothing,” I whispered. My belly began to churn but I knew I had nothing to throw up. I closed my eyes, though even the darkness swam behind my lids. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Of course I hope they do not come.”

“Nik, what did you mean?”

There was an edge in his tone, one that made me open my eyes to look at him.

“Ghertun sometimes have vovic on them,” I told him. “If not the extracted poison, then the herb that they use to make it.”

The pujerak stilled and I could see the way his eyes flickered, as if he was deep in thought.

“Why would they carry that on them?” he rasped.

“The Ghertun smoke it. It’s a drug to them. It relaxes them. But when it is crushed, and heated, and the oil is pressed from it, that is vovic. Some Ghertun carry a vial, if they have slaves.”

The pujerak stood from the edge of the bed suddenly. “Vok.”

My lips parted. I whispered, “What?”

“The…the scouting party. The ones we hunted down and killed. Not far from here. There were five of them. One of them might’ve had it.”

I blew out a breath, shaking my head. “Yes, but the Vorakkar said he burned their bodies. It wouldn’t have survived fire.”

The pujerak’s breaths came fast.

“He ordered me to burn them, kalles.”

I frowned at his tone, something about it making me try to push up from the furs. “What are you saying?”

“The Vorakkar was angry when he ordered me to do that. I—I did not burn them. Kakkari would’ve been angered if we had,” he told me, his gaze finding mine.

“Then what did you do with the bodies?” I gasped out, hope beginning to rise in my breast.

“I buried them.”

I swallowed, feeling a wave of pain rise steadily with my increased heartbeat. I needed to calm down.

“They might’ve had a dose on them,” I hissed, realization striking me.

The pujerak looked at me with a widened gaze.

“Vok.”

“Where are they buried?”

* * *

Davik’s pujerakreturned to the hushed quiet of the voliki not an hour later.

A thin sheen of sweat dotted his face and his exposed arms. Streaks of dirt and earth covered his chest and hands. His breathing was rough and rapid, as if he hadn’t had a moment of rest since he’d sprinted from the voliki.

My jaw was gritted with pain when he arrived, my abdomen burning, my belly churning with acid. I swore that I felt Devina’s presence in the room but when I tried to use my power to seek her out, I found that I couldn’t focus enough to gather the energy.

The hope I felt when the pujerak strode to my side had the ability to break me. It was a sharp prick in my chest that could turn into a blade sinking deep if he hadn’t found a drop of vovic.

He held something up in front of me.

It was a vial, covered in dirt and dried Ghertun blood...and other things I didn’t want to identify.

The sob that tore from my throat filled the voliki. The pujerak’s lips pressed tight, he inclined his head, and then unstoppered the vial.

All this time, I thought, incredulous, scarcely able to believe it.

It was a tiny amount but it was all I would need to buy time. The pujerak helped lift my head though his touch on my flesh made me want to scream.

I felt the cool touch of the vial on my lips. I smelled that bitter, familiar liquid, pungent and stinging in my nostrils.

The vovic coated my tongue, making me want to gag, but I swallowed it all, knowing that the more I consumed, the faster it would work.

I felt the poison slide down my throat and into my belly where it burned. I held my breath and saw the pujerak step away from the furs, watching me almost warily.

It took almost another hour but slowly, I felt the pain begin to leak away. Something was unknotting within me, loosening and unraveling. I felt it leave my limbs, that aching tightness. I felt a pressure ease off my lungs and I gasped, inhaling a deep, full breath for the first time in days. Even my bones seemed to strengthen, no longer feeling like they were on the verge of snapping at the slightest touch.

“Is it working?” the pujerak asked quietly.

“Yes,” I murmured.

I held my breath, a part of me fearing that it was too late. That the pain would return tenfold or that this was just a dream, that I would wake soon from this hopeful state.

But this was real.

As my strength began to return to me, I felt something rise with it. Something that I’d felt…at the tree of the heartstone. Something that hadn’t been within me before.

I felt emotions rise, emotions that I knew stemmed from the pujerak. His profound relief to see me well, his anticipation of Davik’s return, his inner turmoil over desecrating the graves of the Ghertun.

For a moment, I was paralyzed with disbelief because I knew I hadn’t used my gift. I hadn’t built up the energy between us, nor had I actively tried to delve into his mind.

Just then, the healer walked into the voliki and froze when he saw me sitting up in the bed. His emotions hit me like a wall, his baffled confusion at first followed by his tentative hope.

And I knew…I knew that this was Kakkari’s doing. Something had happened to me at the grave of Lokkaru’s father. Something had happened to me when I’d connected my mind with the mind of a goddess…or at least a remnant of her.

As a test, I looked at the healer and pushed the command into his mind without resistance.

Leave.

Immediately, he turned his back and walked from the voliki. The pujerak frowned after him, his lips parted in confusion.

I waited for the pain to slice through me but it never came. If anything, I felt stronger. There was no dizziness, no nausea, no pounding headache.

Davik.

My breath left me in a rush. He was hours ahead of me now.

“Will you take me to him?” I asked the pujerak, feeling my throat close tight. Lozza’s army was great. I didn’t know what Davik planned but I worried what the Ghertun king would do…or what Davik would give up to help me.

The pujerak frowned. “Kalles, you know I cannot do that. He would want you to stay here, safe, and to rest.”

I didn’t have time to argue. My power was already threading through his mind as I rose from the bed.

Take me to the Dead Mountain.

The pujerak inclined his head though he didn’t seem to know why.

“Lysi, I will.”

It should have frightened me…this new, horrible, powerful thing I possessed.

Yet all I thought was that I would use it to protect those that I loved.

Nothing would stop me.

I turned to Davik’s chests and opened one, dressing quickly. At the bottom, however, I felt something within, hidden, and when I rummaged through it, my hand grew hotter and hotter.

I knew what it was.

The heartstone. It was tucked within a pouch and it burned in my hand when it tumbled forward. It was smooth and small. It fit within my palm perfectly. The inside swirled, glowing gold and blue, the color mingling and floating within.

Davik must’ve taken it from the tree without my knowing.

He had hidden it here, kept it away from the Ghertun. I frowned.

Why?

But I knew.

He’d meant to use it…for me.

If he couldn’t get the cure from Lozza, he was planning to use the heartstone’s power to heal me…just like Lokkaru’s father had done, sacrificing his life in the process.

He would never give it to the Ghertun, so he’d hidden it here to protect it. Its power was too great and he knew just how dangerous it would be in the Ghertun’s possession.

I shuddered, remembering the remnants of that power. I shuddered, remembering that up until a few days ago, I had been hell-bent on delivering it to Lozza.

My palm clenched around it. I tucked it into my trews, finishing dressing quickly. When I turned around to face the pujerak, he was still frowning, confused.

“Will you tell me your name?” I asked quietly, keeping the command from my voice. This was his choice.

He stared at me, as if I was a strange thing.

“Hedna.”

I nodded.

“Hedna, take me to him. Please.”