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  Unable to answer, Artemis leaned heavily against the nearest tree. Garret had no reason to lie to her. He must know that she would find this information—

  Timon, she thought. She remembered when she had first seen the boy’s photograph. She had never doubted that he was human.

  But if the rogues only wanted half-blood children...

  “Why would the rogues think that Timon is a half-blood?” she asked.

  “Artemis,” Garret said with a low sigh, “you know the answer.”

  She slid down the trunk and sat with her back to the tree. “You mated with an Opir female,” she said.

  Garret pressed his hand over the pocket where he carried Timon’s picture, as if someone might snatch it away from him. “Yes,” he said.

  “Roxana,” she said, remembering her earlier guess.

  “She was my wife,” Garret said.

  An Opir who had turned against her own kind to help one of his people.

  Irrational anger overwhelmed Artemis’s shock. “You said you lived alone,” she said. “But I knew that could not have been true. You were too easy with me.” Her eyes felt hot and dry. “Why did you lie?”

  “I’m sorry, Artemis,” he said. “It wasn’t the right time to tell you the truth.”

  “You mean that you feared I might not help you if you admitted your former relationship with a female Opir?”

  “I never intended to hide it from you.”

  “But you did. What else have you not told me? Where did you come from?”

  Garret looked at her, and she saw the pain in his eyes.

  “In old California,” he said, “there are colonies where humans and Nightsiders live together in peace. I came from one of those colonies. We named it Avalon.”

  “I have heard of such places,” she said, finding her composure again. “I thought they were forbidden.”

  “And I’m sure the Citadels in the north plan to keep it that way,” Garret said. “Erebus has only accepted them because their Council realized that the colonies were no threat to them.”

  “But humans are free in these colonies, are they not?”

  “Opiri and humans live as equals.”

  “How do the Opiri get their blood?”

  “Through cooperation.”

  “And that is why you found it so easy to give yours to me?”

  “No one is compelled to donate, but everyone—humans and Nightsiders—contributes to the general welfare of the colony.” His lips thinned. “Unless the Nightsiders happen to forget where they are.”

  The bitterness had returned to his voice, and Artemis sensed that he spoke from very personal experience. She tried to imagine what life would be like for Opiri in such a settlement. They would have to change their habits and customs completely, and the motivation for such a change could only be a philosophical commitment to equality.

  She knew that Opiri with egalitarian beliefs did exist, even in the Citadels. They generally kept their opinions to themselves, but if they left their Citadels or were exiled, they might seek places where they could live their ideals.

  But could they maintain those lofty ideals in the face of constant temptation?

  Isn’t that what you would demand of your fellow Freebloods? she asked herself. To discard what they have known and begin afresh?

  But she had never asked her people to live among humans. It was a recipe for disaster. As it had been when she and Garret had become too intimate. When he had called his wife’s name.

  A wife he had spoken of in the past tense.

  She didn’t ask him for more details. She couldn’t bear to feel his sorrow, and the longer she remained with him, the more she had to struggle to keep her empathic barriers in place.

  “The only human settlements in the north are the militia compounds,” she said, trying to focus on more practical matters. She turned to Pericles. “They would never have permitted an Opir female among them.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Pericles said with a quick, uneasy glance at Garret. “They didn’t try to shoot us when we approached the gate. Their defenses weren’t very strong. The men who sold Beth to us did it to keep us from attacking, but they didn’t want anyone else in their compound to know what they were doing.”

  “And what of her parents?”

  “They were never mentioned.”

  “But they could have been there,” Garret said. “Maybe someone decided to start a mixed Nightsider-human colony in Oregon, in spite of the danger.”

  “That would be madness,” Artemis protested.

  “It takes a kind of madness to attempt something that’s never been done before,” Garret said. He gazed at Beth thoughtfully. “We have to decide what to do with her. We can’t bring her with us to find Timon, but if her parents and the rest of the colonists didn’t know that she was being sold to Freebloods, they’ll take her back.”

  “Two hundred miles in the wrong direction,” Artemis said.

  Cradling the rifle in his arms, Garret seemed to lock himself away, torn between two equally terrible choices. Return the child to her home and hope for the best, or carry her on a dangerous journey to the north, possibly right into the arms of those who wanted her so badly.

  “I’ll take her back,” Pericles said in a small voice. “She knows me. I’ve cared for her this long, and if it’s just the two of us...”

  “You can’t defend yourself, let alone Beth,” Garret said harshly. He began to pace. “Covering two hundred miles each way will take at least three weeks, probably more, even if we push ourselves.”

  Three weeks, Artemis thought. Three weeks’ lost time in Garret’s search for his son, and an exhausting pace that would leave them all drained and weary by the time they returned to the borderlands of Oceanus.

  “Let me go,” Artemis said. “You know where to look for Timon. If you head toward British Columbia, you are certain to find—”

  “Leave you alone?” Garret interrupted. “No. We still don’t know anything about these colonists.”

  “It is my risk to take.”

  “No.” Garret met her gaze, and her barriers slipped just enough to let her feel his agony. “There seem to be many Freebloods involved in this child-stealing, and whoever takes Beth to her home has to be ready to fight off several at once and protect her at the same time.” He closed his eyes, and Artemis began to reach for him, no longer caring what effect the contact might have on her.

  Her fingertips brushed his arm. He flinched and opened his eyes.

  “We will take Beth back to her people,” he said.

  Chapter 9

  Closing her hand around his, Artemis willed him to feel her sympathy. She had known that Garret couldn’t sacrifice one child for another, even if one of them was his own son.

  “He’ll be all right,” Garret said in a voice that suggested he was trying to convince himself. He squeezed her hand. “He’ll be all right.”

  A long silence fell. Reluctantly, Artemis released Garret’s hand. When Pericles finally spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Will you let me come?” he asked “We can take turns carrying Beth.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of humans?” Garret asked coldly.

  The young Freeblood lifted his chin. “I promised to protect Beth and failed. Now I have another chance.”

  Garret visibly weighed the boy’s statement. “How long since you’ve fed?”

  “I... I hunted before I found Beth.”

  “Humans?”

  “No! I’m... I believe the same things Artemis does.”

  “That’s good, because you won’t be getting any more blood from me.”

  “I never expected—”

  “We will hunt game along the way,” Artemis interrupted. “You
and Beth will require food, as well. The rations Pericles carried will not last long, and I doubt your dried meats will be proper nourishment for a child.”

  Garret nodded his thanks. “As Pericles suggested,” he said, “we’ll take turns carrying Beth and move as fast as we can without exhausting ourselves, or her. And when it comes to dealing with any humans we meet, you both keep out of sight unless I say otherwise.”

  “Understood. As long as you stay out of sight if we meet Opiri.”

  “We’d better hope we can avoid them completely,” Garret said.

  They packed up quickly. Garret broke his rifle apart and tucked it in his pack. He looked in on Beth, stroking her hair and checking her pulse and breathing. The little girl barely did more than murmur drowsily when Pericles lifted her from her blankets and neatly devised a sling to hold her on his back.

  It almost hurt to watch them, though Artemis was very careful not to let a hint of emotion show in her face or voice. Neither Pericles nor Garret—especially Garret—would ever know what she had felt when she’d held a child in her arms again.

  South, Artemis thought. Think only of the goal, a promise kept and freedom afterward.

  * * *

  The three of them crept out of the woods, on the alert for Opir patrols. Garret agreed that Artemis should take the lead, while he fell to the rear and Pericles trotted between them, Beth securely cradled on his back. Garret tried to focus his attention on their surroundings, but he couldn’t get his mind off what Pericles had told him of the kidnapped children and the unknown Bloodlord’s mysterious purpose for them.

  Timon was strong and brave. But he was still a child. The thought of his fear and bewilderment tore at Garret, constantly threatening to gut his hard-won dispassion.

  But he knew he couldn’t indulge in worry that would slow him or make him careless. He had to be ready to turn back north as soon as Beth was safe.

  In the meantime, he and Artemis would remain close to each other, at least physically, for an extra few weeks. He’d told her only a part of his past with Roxana and the mixed colonies, and he knew he couldn’t keep her in the dark forever.

  But to reveal everything would open a Pandora’s box of emotion he wasn’t prepared to deal with so soon after the last fiasco. He knew he’d hurt Artemis when he’d called Roxana’s name. She had tried to keep her distance ever since, but at times, as on many previous occasions, she had seemed strangely attuned to his emotions. When they’d discussed Beth’s fate, Artemis had touched him in an act of comfort, though it must have taken real courage to make herself so vulnerable with him.

  That they had come to care for each other was not an issue. But he couldn’t read her mind. He wondered if she could understand that he had once lived with an intimacy built not only on sharing blood, desire and mutual respect, but also on love. The love of a man for a woman, regardless of race or kind.

  Love he never expected to feel again. But as they traveled, he was constantly aware of Artemis moving quietly ahead of him, her body swaying with natural grace, as lithe and strong and beautiful as a white tigress. Like a lioness, she would fight to defend those she considered her family. And, like a lioness, she was untouchable, forever beyond his reach.

  He was grateful when necessity forced him to push Artemis out of his thoughts and concentrate on keeping his footing in the dark.

  They traveled by night and by day, Pericles swathed in heavy clothes and a cloak foraged from Beth’s fallen captors. Though they switched off carrying Beth, the young Freeblood insisted on taking her two-thirds of the time. No one spoke of weariness or rest until it was clear they could go no farther, and often it was more for Beth’s sake than for their own.

  They cut south for a day, and then traveled west along Highway 20 toward the ocean. That road wound through forested hills, and the trek took longer than Garret had hoped.

  But their strength held. They met neither humans nor Opiri, and Artemis took Pericles hunting at regular intervals, returning with meat for Beth and Garret, while they apparently subsisted on animal blood.

  When they reached the ocean, they made camp just off the beach in the fallen town of Newport. The sun was setting over the sea, a touch of nature’s glory that not even the War and its aftermath could destroy.

  “It is beautiful,” Artemis said, as Garret readied the fire and Pericles rested a little distance away. “Though I lived in Oceanus, I never saw the sea.”

  “Our colony was—is—near the ocean,” Garret said, “but you never get tired of something like this.”

  She smiled at him, and his heart turned over. In the peace of the moment he felt the absurd desire to take her hand and hold it in his. She must have guessed what he was thinking, because she clasped her hands in her lap and stared out across the beach.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked abruptly. “Have you had enough rest?”

  Garret fed more twigs to the tiny flame. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said with a wry twist of his lips. “I know my limitations, and when I come too close to exceeding them.”

  “I did not mean to imply...” She cleared her throat. “Your endurance has never ceased to surprise me.”

  “I guess I should take that as a compliment.”

  Beth, lying on a pile of blankets a few feet away, began to whimper in her sleep. Without thinking, Garret gathered the girl into his arms and held her against his chest, humming under his breath.

  “That is a pretty song,” Artemis said, her voice wistful. “I used to—”

  She broke off and looked away quickly. Used to what? Garret thought. Used to sing? It wasn’t a common activity in the Citadels, though some took up music when they came to the colony.

  Could she be speaking of her former human life?

  “It’s a lullaby Ro— I used to sing to Timon,” Garret said. “Beth’s asleep. Do you want to hold her while I finish with the fire?”

  Hesitantly, Artemis reached for the little girl. She held Beth gently, her lips curving up in a tentative smile.

  “She’s so fragile,” Artemis said. “Sometimes it amazes me that humans can survive in this world at all.”

  “Homo sapiens have gotten along well enough for over 150,000 years.”

  “Yet some adapted better than others. You were a leader in your colony, were you not?”

  Maybe, Garret thought, it was time to tell Artemis the truth. Now, when they were at ease with each other.

  Suddenly Artemis jerked up her head. “Someone is approaching,” she said.

  A moment later Pericles was sitting up on his bedroll, his nostrils flaring. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Humans,” Artemis said. She held Beth out to Garret. “I should go see.”

  “How many?” Garret asked.

  “More than two, but less than ten,” she said. “If they are militia...”

  “I’ll talk to them,” Garret said. “The last thing we need is a firefight, and you know I can communicate with these people on their terms.”

  “Yes,” Artemis said, “I know. But—”

  “But you and Pericles stay here and look after Beth until I give the okay.”

  Artemis opened her mouth to protest, shook her head and subsided. She wouldn’t look at him as he rose from the small fire, and her jaw was set.

  Knowing that there was nothing he could do to satisfy her except return in one piece, Garret tucked his handgun under his coat and headed out in the direction she had indicated.

  She’d been right in her estimate. Nine humans, ranging in age from early teens to late middle age, were huddled together under a stand of wind-beaten spruce a few hundred yards north of the camp. They were underdressed for the weather and the stiff ocean breezes, their clothing primarily made up of loose pants, long tunics and the occasional cloak. They had no weapons except for a c
ouple of knives.

  Serfs, Garret thought. Runaways, almost certainly from Oceanus.

  The fact that they had escaped at all was a miracle. But that they’d come so far with so few resources was a testament to their fortitude and conviction.

  Garret was doubly glad that he hadn’t brought Artemis and Pericles.

  “Hello,” he called out, stepping into clear view and holding his arms out at his sides.

  Immediately two men and a woman in their twenties or early thirties jumped up and confronted him, their faces creased in alarm. Garret walked toward them, his arms still well away from his weapon.

  “Peace,” he said. “My name is Garret Fox. I used to be a serf, just like you.”

  * * *

  “They’re heading to Coos Bay,” Garret said.

  Artemis stared at him. “Serfs?” she said. “Serfs who escaped from Oceanus?”

  With a sigh, Garret sat down and poked at the embers that were all that remained of the fire. “They had a little help,” he said.

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “From inside the Citadel,” he said. “Is it so difficult for you to believe that there are humans willing to risk their lives for freedom, or Opiri who might help them?”

  Artemis shook her head slowly. “I never heard of such a thing in Oceanus, though I—” She pushed her hair away from her face. “Are you suggesting that these are not the first?”

  “They didn’t discuss it in any detail, but there have probably been others.”

  “And surely the Council must know that there have been escapes.” She met Garret’s eyes. “They would kill any Opir who dared to break the Citadel’s laws.”

  “If I was a serf, would you help me?”

  She clenched her slender hands in her lap. “I would do everything in my power to see that you were not harmed.”

  “As a Freeblood, you’d have no control over my condition. And you were taught to believe that the keeping of serfs is part of the natural order of the world.”

  “What I was taught ceased to matter long ago,” Artemis said.

  “And you don’t want to take human blood. You’ve never told me why.”