A Pirate’s Life for Tea (Tomes & Tea #2)

28. Kianthe

Chapter twenty-eight

Kianthe

T he alchemical ward exploded and the world ignited with it.

Time seemed to slow, passing in flashes of horrid images. Kianthe slammed to the ground, twisted in time to see light catching Reyna, swallowing her. She arched back in obvious pain; her scream silent, black against white. Then the spell slammed her off the circle—onto the staircase, crumpled in a heap.

She didn’t move.

Kianthe was aware of a scream filling the room. It took several moments to realize it was her scream.

Ponder had taken flight moments before Reyna’s sacrifice, but she wasn’t spared from the blast. Now, she screeched like a siren, blood trailing down her dark feathers, coloring one golden eye crimson. She curled into herself, trembling violently, offering the occasional pained clicking sound from the back of her throat.

She was hurt. Reyna was—

Kianthe didn’t even know.

The mage acted on instinct. In a breath, she erected a wall of earth between them and the alchemical ward, physically blocking the staircase from the room beyond. A similar one slammed up behind Ponder on the staircase, closing them off with aggressive certainty.

Inside their tiny tomb, they had privacy. It wasn’t enough. Kianthe’s brain shut off, crashing to her knees beside her fiancée. “R-Rain.” She choked on the nickname, sliding her hands under Reyna’s crumpled form. She wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t she moving? “No. No .”

Ponder swiped at her eye, smearing the blood, and squeaked pathetically. It was the closest an eagle could come to crying, and it broke Kianthe’s heart.

“I know, sweetie,” she whispered, her voice breaking, tears blurring her vision. It was dark, but magic sparked around them, taking shape in thousands of pinpricks of firelight. Nothing that would burn, but enough that it cast Reyna’s pale face in light.

It took far too long to determine she was breathing. Kianthe pressed a hand to her chest, but her own body was shaking so hard that she couldn’t feel Reyna’s heart. So, she ignored the conventional way, and instead magically, reaching for the air in Reyna’s lungs.

It was circulating—and at her desperate command, breath flooded into Reyna’s body.

Her fiancée gasped, jerking violently in Kianthe’s hold.

Too much. Fuck. Kianthe recalled some of it, ordered the rest to keep going, and fought the panic swelling in her chest. It was impossible to know what kind of magic attacked her—impossible to know what that alchemical spell was warded for. There were no surface wounds, nothing for Kianthe to fix.

Her breaths were getting weaker. Kianthe could see it waning in her lungs.

Helplessness smothered her. “Rain, y-you have to help me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Kianthe bent over her, her fingers fluttering along Reyna’s cheeks, her chest, her ribs. Hot tears fell like raindrops onto Reyna’s face, and it seemed like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

If she didn’t help, Reyna would slip away, and she would never get to help again.

But her last attempt didn’t fix things.

“What do I do?” she cried, asking the magic now, the Stone of Seeing itself. It didn’t concern itself with human affairs, but for its Arcandor, its magic would come to her aid. Sensing her anguish, it flooded her now, like a warm hug she didn’t deserve.

She still had to direct it.

In her arms, Reyna was unresponsive.

And with the Stone’s magic around her, things suddenly seemed very clear. Her brain was a gnarled mess, her body shaking so hard her teeth were rattling, her magic vibrating alongside it—and it just wasn’t useful . The moment that thought passed through her, everything stilled.

Filled with instinct, Kianthe settled the magic over Reyna like a blanket, and it seeped into her body. Electrical impulses, once weakened, sparked to life. The water in her blood, her veins, began circulating strongly. Air poured into her lungs, helping now instead of hurting.

After all, the elements were life itself. Humans could be nothing else.

It was easy, and Kianthe gently extended the magic to Ponder, too. The griffon flinched away, then relaxed into Kianthe’s touch. It didn’t fix the bleeding wound on her head, but it seemed to calm her down.

Kianthe felt calmer, too. She pulled back, letting the Stone’s blessed magic fade, watching Reyna with careful attention. Her chest tightened but she focused on her breathing, matching inhales and exhales with Reyna’s.

And then… Reyna opened her eyes.

For a moment, neither spoke. Kianthe’s grip tightened, but she gave her fiancée space to breathe. Reyna oriented herself, lifting her gaze to Kianthe’s dark eyes, the firelight surrounding them. An apologetic smile tilted her lips. Her words were rasping, quiet. “You can scold me, but I’d do it again.”

In response, Kianthe pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

Reyna’s breath hitched, but her arms wound around Kianthe’s neck, her hand threading into the mage’s short, messy hair. Kianthe didn’t kiss her, not this time. They just embraced, close enough that it felt like their hearts were beating together.

“Are you okay?” Reyna finally whispered.

“Am I—” Kianthe choked on the sentence. “Don’t ask me that. Not now.”

Reyna laughed quietly. The motion must have hurt, because a grimace overtook her features. “Alchemy is not my favorite. I can’t even tell where I was hit.” She suddenly stiffened in Kianthe’s arms, eyes widening. “Ponder—is she—”

“She’s all right. Behind you.”

Hearing her name, Ponder took a tentative step forward. She moved gingerly, but nothing seemed to be broken. The blood had been blinked from her eye, but her black feathers were still wet with it. Reyna shifted out of Kianthe’s hold, held open her arms, and gathered the baby griffon into a comforting embrace.

“Dearest,” she murmured against the griffon’s feathers, stroking the velvety fur along her back. “I’m so sorry. But you’re so brave. Someday soon, this will be a distant memory, and you’ll be stronger for it.”

Kianthe closed her eyes against the words. Her panic was still there, a deep thrum in the back of her brain—and once they had the luxury, she’d surely succumb to it. But to be fair, even Reyna still had nightmares about finding Kianthe in the snow, unconscious, surrounded by the shadows of dragons. That kind of horror never really went away.

Maybe that was love: knowing those negative emotions would linger… and choosing to focus on the positive ones instead.

“Why do I feel like you’re having an existential crisis?” Reyna broke the silence, releasing Ponder with a forced smile.

A laugh bubbled, unbidden, from Kianthe’s chest. “I’m always existential.”

“That’s what worries me.” Reyna heaved a sigh, swallowed a hiss of pain, and pushed to her feet. The process was laborious, and she had to take Kianthe’s arm to keep from falling over. “Gods, what a spell. Why does it feel like I almost died?” She laughed at that.

Kianthe didn’t.

Reyna searched her face, paling. “Ah.”

“We’ll be having a conversation about your self-sacrificing tendencies later. Don’t worry.” Kianthe set her jaw.

Reyna snorted, then hissed in pain, her hand tightening on Kianthe’s arm. “Oh, that’s rich,” she wheezed. “Considering you were the one who challenged an entire dragon brood on griffon-back, with a ley line that barely supports your magic on a good day.”

“I’m the Arcandor—”

“Don’t even get me started on that.”

Kianthe gasped, sliding easily into mock-indignation. “In case you forgot, the dragons started that fight. I merely—” she paused when she realized that Reyna was laughing, her whole body trembling with it. “It’s true . I hardly overextended myself!”

“I’ll remember—” Reyna cut off, wheezing, laughing, which only made Kianthe grin too, “—I’ll remember that the next time you’re vomiting into a buck—into a bucket—” and she broke down, unable to finish.

“Hey, you said—”

“Key, please, stop. You’ll kill me all over again,” Reyna buried her face into Kianthe’s shoulder.

Kianthe heaved an exasperated sigh, pulling her into a fierce hug. At their feet, Ponder lightly dug her talons into Reyna’s pants. Despite their humor, the baby griffon wasn’t having the best time—they were still underground, and their tomb must feel very suffocating to anyone who wasn’t in control of the elements.

It reminded Kianthe that they had a goal here, and it wasn’t banter after a traumatic incident. But the dragon eggs were hardly her priority now, not when Reyna looked like she was one strong breeze from falling over. “We should abandon the mission. Get you and Ponder somewhere safe.”

“Darling, you know I never abandon a mission.” Reyna’s tone was factual. She picked up her sword from where it fell, tied it to her waist again. Her fingers fumbled with the leather straps, but she made it work.

Kianthe stayed close, panic lancing through her chest. Reyna was up and moving, and that was something, but her heart still pounded. “I’ll come back alone. I won’t get distracted by the books again. Promise.”

Reyna leveled an amused stare her way, one eyebrow arching.

Kianthe wanted to shake her senseless. “Please, Reyna. They’ve been down here for decades; a few more nights won’t make a difference.” When she didn’t budge, Kianthe whispered, “I need you safe.”

“Then keep me safe, all right?” Reyna stepped closer, pressed a kiss to her lips. “Arlon could decide to move them after this attempt, and then we’re back at the beginning—minus our paper trail. We simply cannot afford to abandon our goal.” She gestured at the stone wall blocking them from the alchemical ward. “Whenever you’re ready. Or sometime before that, since we aren’t getting younger.”

Kianthe hesitated.

Regretfully, she had a point. The dragons expected their eggs—and she couldn’t risk losing them again.

After a long moment, Kianthe begrudgingly tugged down the wall, revealing the marble spell. Ponder landed on her shoulder, balancing there. Reyna still looked unsteady, breathing too hard for a casual stroll, so Kianthe hooked her arm around her fiancée’s waist. It spoke volumes that Reyna leaned into her with a sigh of relief.

The sooner they finished this, the sooner she got Reyna to a bed and medical attention.

“Now, we need to find a way around this spell—”

With a huff, Kianthe yanked the marble floor deep underground, filling the small room with the scent of freshly upturned dirt instead. It was the same move she’d done with their bookshop in Tawney, back when they were first renovating, and it swallowed the spellwork whole.

Reyna grimaced, shooting Kianthe a knowing look. “Was that necessary?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Kianthe’s grip tightened on Reyna’s waist. She moved forward, Ponder still balancing on her shoulder, but Reyna dug in her heels. Kianthe glanced at her, brow knitting together. “What? Did I hurt you?”

“If you aren’t okay with this, I can wait here.” Reyna’s voice was gentle. “You’ve walled off the staircase; I won’t be taken by surprise. Ponder can keep me company.”

A peace offering. The fact she felt it was necessary made Kianthe deeply ashamed of her own attitude. She clenched her eyes shut and drew a breath. “No. I’ll be okay. Let’s finish this.”

This time, Reyna moved with her, and they crossed the tiny room without incident.

Kianthe inspected the wooden door alone, reaching out with her magic—which was less than helpful against alchemy—and then visually checking for signs. But Arlon must have assumed any intruder would be finished off by the spell in the center of the room, because the door opened easily. It wasn’t even locked.

They stepped into a magnificent room laden with expensive artifacts. It truly looked like the museum in Wellia, or the records hall in the Magicary. The ceilings were high, considering they were underground. Long tapestries covered every wall, some pressed between glass to preserve the fraying edges, some vibrant and fresh. Suits of armor from every known period and country lined the four walls. More books were framed in display cases or on wooden podiums.

And in the center of the room were two dragon eggs, perched on a velvet pillow.

They were each the size of a sack of flour—small enough to carry, big enough that Kianthe worried about how she’d carry them alone , with Reyna in this state. Their leathery shells gleamed lavender, like a flowery sprig on a spring day. And they did pulse with magic. It was so obvious that she winced, because if this was a dragon egg after a spell designed to strip them of power, what did a normal dragon egg feel like?

No wonder Viviana took pity on them. The eggs were basically screaming at Kianthe to help.

She stopped in the doorway and helped Reyna against the wall. “Let me check things out.”

It was telling that Reyna merely nodded, then wasted no time easing to the ground. She winced, closing her eyes for a brief moment. Ponder floated off Kianthe’s shoulder, nudging Reyna’s arm, and she smiled at the griffon before saying, “Be careful, dear. I doubt I’ll be able to save you twice in one day.”

“Ha, ha.” Kianthe’s voice was dry as bone.

It was a slow process getting to the eggs, and it made Kianthe wish she’d borrowed one of Dreggs’ alchemists—or at least kept Feo around. She could feel alchemical magic, but it was an echo, a possibility. Dormant until triggered, then unleashed in violent, crimson fury. It took extensive concentration to switch magic types, and even then the elements nudged the back of her mind, as if asking why she was ignoring them.

But if she’d ignored them earlier, Reyna wouldn’t be hurt—so Kianthe focused, even though it was draining.

It was all for naught. There weren’t any more traps, although she walked the length several times to confirm. While she tested the room, Reyna’s eyes had slid shut, which made Kianthe want to scoop her up and take her somewhere safe— somewhere to be determined, but “not here” was good enough. Luckily, Ponder was taking her job of guarding Reyna very seriously. She perched beside the ex-Queensguard like a statue, keeping an eye on anything that moved… which, here, was just Kianthe.

Still, considering how the baby griffon was injured too, her dedication was impressive.

At least someday, Kianthe wouldn’t be the only one protecting Reyna.

Get the eggs. Get out.

Kianthe didn’t reach for them. She didn’t trust Arlon at all anymore, and the last thing she needed was to be trapped in an alchemical cage. Instead, she stood a fair distance back and swept up a windstorm, a literal tornado that lifted one egg off the perch, then the other.

As expected, the tile floor around the pedestal began to crack and decay—literally sinking anyone standing nearby into the mud and trapping them there.

Kianthe wasn’t nearby, and she rolled her eyes at the theatrics.

Another careful twist of magic, and the eggs touched the ground at her feet.

Applause from the doorway. A panicked screech, muffled by a thump of heavy fabric. Kianthe spun on her heels, realizing too late that someone new had joined them—and that someone had just yanked Reyna to her feet and pressed a knife to her throat.

Arlon.