Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(8)

The words sent a jolt of pain through Cettie’s heart. She squelched it, but not quite quickly enough, judging by the way Rand suddenly turned to look at her. He might not know how to interpret her emotions, but he could feel them. It was such a strange sensation, this union of hearts.

“You disapprove?” Rand asked.

Cettie looked out the window again. “She can do whatever she wishes. What of Anna?”

“She’s engaged. To that doctor in the Fells.” He said the words casually, acting as if he hadn’t known that Adam and Cettie had planned to marry. “She goes to the hospital every week to volunteer, read to patients, that sort of thing. They’re a handsome couple.”

Jealousy. Envy. She felt their poisons work through her blood.

Well, at least Anna got what she has always wished for.

“You still care,” Rand said softly, matter-of-factly.

Cettie invoked the power of the kystrel. She saw her eyes begin to glow in her reflection in the glass. The feelings melted away.

“Not really,” she said with indifference.

Rand put his hand on top of hers. It was a gesture of familiarity. A sense of numbness overtook her, and she released the magic and turned to him. She’d expected him to be looking at her, but his eyes were trained out the other window. The carriage turned onto a less populous street, heading to a different part of town.

“I’m glad they chose you for me,” she said, and meant it. Even if he, too, was manipulating her, at least he was a part of the life she missed.

He nodded, his eyes still distant. The carriage jostled and began to pick up speed again, and they butted shoulders. Sometimes she could feel the burn of the brand on her shoulder, remembered pain shooting through her from the mark with which they’d claimed her.

Like a slave.

She bit her lip and cast out the thought. The carriage’s speed surged again, and her stomach lurched as the carriage bounced up and down.

Rand scowled and grabbed his arquebus and then tapped the roof. “Slow down, man!” he called.

That was when Cettie noticed that the reins were trailing behind the horses in the street.

“The driver’s gone,” Cettie said, realizing it instantly.

Rand’s frown deepened. “Another test,” he said.

They hit a bump in the road that nearly threw them into the ceiling. Cettie’s heart fired with fear, but she’d long since learned to master it.

Rand lurched forward, smashing the butt of his arquebus through the window in front of them. Glass shattered and sprayed the street, and he used the gunstock to clear the remaining shards from the edges of the window. Cettie noticed they’d turned down a side alley.

“The reins are on the street,” he said. Leaving the arquebus on the forward seat, he climbed through the window. The wind whipped through his hair as he looked back at her. “You climb up to the driver’s seat.”

Cettie nodded and opened the door of the carriage. The alley was very narrow, and she had to watch closely to be sure she didn’t smash into anything. She reached up to the cargo storage above, and gripping it, pulled herself up the side. Her shoes weren’t appropriate for the feat, but she’d climbed the waterfall wall many times by now, and this task was so much easier in comparison. The horses were panicking, running faster and faster as the reins slapped against the road. She had a moment to notice a crater filled with murky water in the middle of the street before the carriage struck it, jarring her bones and causing a curse to spill from Rand up ahead. Cettie finished the climb and hastily occupied the empty driver’s seat.

Rand was walking on the tongue of the carriage, which connected to the traces, which in turn attached to the galloping horses. He poised himself, arms spread wide for balance, and inched his way forward. If he fell, he was a dead man. Cettie used the kystrel to boost his courage, but she sensed he wasn’t afraid. In fact, he was excited by the challenge.

“Watch out, there’s another pothole up ahead!” Cettie called out.

In a fluid movement, Rand ducked low and snagged one of the reins. His legs absorbed the shock of the impact without falling. Cettie then used the kystrel to reach out to the terrified horses. She felt their quivering fear, their panic, their mindless need to escape, and she drew away those emotions to steady them.

Still balancing on the narrow bit of wood, Rand dipped again and retrieved the other animal’s rein. He stepped back and handed both leather straps up to her.

Cettie wrapped them around her hands and pulled, applying the perfect amount of pressure—enough to slow the beasts but not enough to cause them to rear up. The horses were already calming, as was her own heart, and they slowed to canter. Rand started to climb up to the driver’s seat next to her, pausing midway. She heard his hiss and felt a gush of surprise and pain through their bond.

“What happened?” she asked as he finished the climb and sat down next to her.

“Cut my hand on the window just now,” he said, squeezing his hand into a fist. It was a vicious cut, the blood dribbling from his hand. “Thought I’d cleared it all.”

“I can cure it,” Cettie said. She eased the horses to a stop. They were in a side street, empty of traffic. The fishy odor of the wharves and docks hung in the air, heavier now, as if the horses had brought them closer to the water. Handing the reins to Rand, she reached into a secret pocket in the upper vest portion of her gown. She withdrew the waterproof pouch, loosed the drawstrings, and pulled out a small clump of Everoot.