Spiritwalker 3: Cold Steel by Kate Elliott Read Free Book Online Page B

his head to make sure he didn’t bite anyone,
     his body melted away to become a man lying naked and bleeding on the cobblestones.
     He’d been hit in his right shoulder and left thigh. A liquid pulsed along his skin
     like blood, although it was clear, not red. His eyes were open, questing back and
     forth as if trying to fix on a moving target.
    I grasped his hand.
    “Is this death, Cat?” His voice was a whisper. “I feel my strength draining out of
     me. Will my spirit pass back to my mother on the other side? Or will I just dissolve
     into the wind?”
    Soldiers blocked us in, facing the angry crowd. Caonabo came up with his catch-fires.
    “Don’t touch him!” I snarled.
    “Make your choice, Perdita. He may bleed out, or I can cauterize his wounds.”
    His words punched the breath right out of my lungs. I shifted back to let him kneel.
    “Rory, this fire mage will stop the bleeding. Allow him to touch you.”
    Among Rory’s people—a pride of saber-toothed cats who roamed in the spirit world—a
     male trusted his mother and aunts and sisters absolutely. He watched me with eyes
     as amber as my own, for we hadinherited golden eyes and black hair from the creature who had sired us. Luce crept
     to my side as the prince inspected the wounded leg. He wiped up a dab of the colorless
     blood, sniffed it, and glanced at me but asked no questions. A man of his education
     no doubt could draw his own conclusions. After assuring himself the shot had gone
     clear through flesh, he placed a hand on either side of the thigh.
    Caonabo’s two catch-fires lit as if they were gas lamps touched to flame.
    I gasped. Luce’s grip on my arm tightened.
    A skin of fire radiated from the prince’s hands. Four days ago, on Hallows’ Eve, standing
     under the veil of my sire’s terrifying power, I had seen Prince Caonabo’s mother casting
     off the backlash of her magic into a net of catch-fires. The lines drawn between the
     cacica and her catch-fires had spanned the island of Kiskeya. She had created a woven
     web through which the backwash of fire magic was drained out of her, through the catch-fires,
     and into the seemingly bottomless well that was the spirit world. Shimmering threads
     spun out of Caonabo and into his catch-fires. One catch-fire alone would have burst
     into flame and died; two could split the backlash between them and pour it harmlessly
     away.
    Rory exhaled sharply. His eyes rolled up, and he passed out.
    “Blessed Tanit!” I touched his throat.
    His pulse stirred, weak but steady, as pale blood leaked along the curve of his neck.
     Unthinkingly, I licked his blood off my fingers. It was so sweet, not harsh at all.
    Prince Caonabo draped linen over Rory’s genitals to give him a scrap of dignity. An
     elderly woman with feathers and beads woven into her white hair approached, carrying
     a basket. She produced a pair of tweezers. He probed Rory’s shoulder and pulled out
     a bloody bullet. He then pressed a hand over the wound and cauterized it as well.
    Luce sat beside me, clutching my other arm. I scrubbed at my lips but the taste of
     Rory’s blood lingered. I began to shake.
    Caonabo rose. “Now we go to Council Hall.”
    “Yee shall not go with them, Cat!” Luce cried. “They shan’t kill yee!”
    “Hush, Luce.” I grabbed her. “Help Kofi bring our gear. Quickly! Now go!”
    She kissed Rory’s cheek in a way that brought tears to my eyes. She was free to choose
     what pleasure and affection she desired. If he died, who was I or anyone to say it
     would have been better if they had not shared love?
    Proudly she rose. At a gesture from Caonabo, the Taino soldiers parted to let her
     leave. I yanked off the noose over my neck and only then did I think to look for James
     Drake.
    He had vanished. Caonabo was wiping his hands with a cloth, surrounded by concerned
     attendants.
    Camjiata took hold of my elbow. “Don’t be a fool, Cat. Drake has guessed the cold
     mage is still alive, for