Chapter 6 - Kalla
Kalla
VI
I remained close to Jael as I’d promised I would. The sight of him falling out of bed on my return made me hesitant to walk away, not wanting him to injure himself again.
Not wanting him to leave. Not until I got the information I needed, anyway.
That’s what I told myself as I sat on the wooden chair in the corner of the room.
I’d lied about my reason for saving him, knowing the truth would make even less sense to him than it did to me, but also to avoid him holding the truth against me.
I probably shouldn’t have given the fae my name, either, but it had slipped out before I could think better of it.
You saved the wrong man, then. Because death is the only thing I live for.
His answer echoed through my head, mocking my attempts to harden myself against him.
He’d said it, and I knew I should believe him considering he couldn’t lie, not to mention how I’d found him and the quality of his blades, which I’d discovered when I’d peeled away the layers of bloodied cloth and leather.
And yet every time his words replayed, I heard the heavy regret woven through each syllable. The fae words he’d uttered when I’d stumbled across him in the woods had been poetry—magic. Proof that he could create as well as kill. I found it sad that he should think otherwise.
Why didn’t you kill me?
The question haunted me. The choice of words, the despair in his tone. He hadn’t asked me out of curiosity or gratitude. It had been an accusation, as if he would have preferred for me to have killed him.
Well, he would get his wish as soon as he explained why he was in these woods. Perhaps it would speed up my mission if he knew talking would get us both what we wanted.
I hated how my heart squeezed at the thought, how the very idea of ending his life made me remember the way he’d looked at me after his fall out of bed—as though I were the most captivating creature he’d ever seen. No one had ever looked at me that way before.
Shaking my head, I rose from my chair, unable to sit any longer. The smart move would be to get away from the smell of him, that soft scent of sunshine and fresh-cut grass. But I’d told him I’d be here.
So I paced until my legs got tired, then I cooked a simple meal to fill his belly when he woke.
That done, I drew his daggers and set to work cleaning and sharpening them.
They were too well crafted to be left where they could rust under all that blood and rainwater.
As I inspected them, I noted a dark shimmer along the edge of the blade and kept my fingers clear.
Without knowing more about fae magic, I thought it wiser to be careful.
At least I could be wise about something.
By the time the blades were in fighting condition, the sun was rising and my eyelids were sagging again. How long had it been since I’d slept? I leaned my head against the wall and allowed myself to drift off.
A sense of being watched jerked me awake, and I started forward, my heart racing, my muscles primed for a fight. When I broke through the rush of alarm, I found Jael staring at me from the bed, and my breath came out in a gust.
“You’re awake.” I rolled my stiff neck until it popped. “How long?”
He shifted, then winced. “Not very.”
I stood up and my back cracked in three different spots. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
Was I imagining the disappointment underlying his answer?
I untied the bandage and checked his wound, amazed by how much progress his body had made since yesterday.
“Impressive. You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.
” Just in time for me to stop his heart for good.
“That fae healing of yours needs to be bottled.”
Jael’s stare fixed on my mouth. “No more than your vampire blood. I knew it had healing properties, but we were never taught that it could stave off death.”
I smirked. “I didn’t realize fae studied vampires. Are we that enticing?”
“No.” When my gaze snapped to his, he cleared his throat.
“I mean as a whole, fae aren’t enticed by anyone.
But we’re taught about every species as a form of defence.
We know you can’t go out in the sun without burning.
We know you exist primarily on a blood diet but that you can eat food.
We know your bite releases a venom that bonds you to your donor—and we know the venom doesn’t work on us. ”
My eyebrows rose. That was a useful piece of information, and I hadn’t even started questioning him yet. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?”
He flinched as I finished retying the bandage. “Our magic makes us immune.”
Thank goodness I hadn’t tried to bite him yesterday. My only reward would have been to kill him before he could speak to me. “That’s good to know. No undying fealty from you. Got it.”
A low chuckle escaped him, and his eyes flew wide at the sound. I did him the courtesy of ignoring it.
“What should I know about you, then? Since you seem to know all our secrets. You say you have magic?” Another important detail if I had to ready myself for a fight.
Jael’s face clouded over. “It’s inherent in our blood. We’re children of the sun, so we make the sun work for us. Some fae do, anyway.”
But not him, I gathered. Good. At least I didn’t have to worry about being blasted with daylight. There was more to that story, but I wasn’t about to pry. I was trying to heal his wounds, not poke them.
Besides, there were other stories I needed to focus on. Like his reasons for being in our territory. If Thorn was right, he would spin me a pretty tale rather than reveal the full truth, but I could follow the threads. Somewhere in the weave, he’d let something slip.
Before I jumped into the heart of the matter, I decided to start with softer questions.
I told myself it was to test the waters, get a feel for the way he spoke to see if I could pinpoint the tricks, but beneath the excuse was the desire to learn everything I could from this man—this stranger from outside my territory—while I had the chance.
“You’re from Soldara?”
He nodded. “Born and raised. Unfortunately.”
I canted my head. “You don’t like it? From everything I’ve read, it’s a beautiful place.”
“From the outside, it’s perfect,” he agreed. His gaze flicked over me. “You have books?”
I huffed. “Is that what they teach you fae? That vampires are ignorant?”
“Frankly, I’m amazed you can speak at all. We’re told you’re all slavering beasts.”
When I opened my mouth to retort, I caught the faint sparkle in his eyes, the barest glimmer of amusement.
“Catch us at the wrong time of night and you might not be far off,” I grumbled, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek.
To stop himself from smiling? I wish he’d give me a chance to see it.
“Well,” I said, “we might not have access to overflowing libraries, but we find what we need. Although based on our information, I’m amazed you’re deigning to look at me. Aren’t all fae supposed to keep their noses so high in the air they can’t see their feet?”
“All the better to tread on the rest of the world,” Jael said, and this time no teasing lined his tone—only a thread of bitterness that weighed down my heart.
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me what you were doing out here?” It was a weak attempt on my part. Unsubtle, not graceful at all, but if he was going to spin me a story anyway, why bother being clever?
Pain crossed his green eyes, then was gone, and I realized how often he did that. These brief flickers of emotion before he buried them again.
He shifted his attention towards the exit. “Fighting for a cause. Failing at it.”
I noted the slight hitch in his breath, the droop in his shoulders, the haunted emptiness in his stare. If he was skirting the truth, he was very good.
I sat carefully on the edge of the bed, giving him space but staying close enough to create a connection. Classic manipulation. “It looked like it was quite the battle.”
The line of his jaw hardened, and his focus slid into the middle distance.
“Someone betrayed us. It would have been a challenge regardless, but they were prepared for our attack. They brought double the number we were told they would, city guards to back up the royal contingent. They slaughtered us, and she got away, and now Leonine will take it as proof that he’s untouchable. ”
Unlike his pain, his bitterness didn’t vanish under a veneer of indifference. It was visceral, and the power of it laced every word. In this moment, I understood what Jael meant about death being his purpose. He carried a lot of anger against this Leonine person.
And still I didn’t catch any sign of creative truth.
“She?” I asked, getting up again to fetch him a bowl of the stew I’d left simmering. Putting distance between us had nothing to do with the strange, twisting jealousy that clawed my gut at the mention of this mystery woman. Jealousy was not the tool of a well-trained scout.
“Princess Brynna.” He scowled. “The king’s daughter. If we’d succeeded, she’d be dead and he’d be preparing for a war with Golthwaine he could never win.”
All jealousy shrivelled into shock. “Wow. War. That’s quite the cause you were fighting for.”
Jael shot me a wide-eyed look, as though remembering I was in the room, and his shoulders sagged. “The others wanted the war. I wanted Leonine to crumble. Instead, it’s one more regret for me to carry.”
I wondered how many regrets one needed to wish for death instead of another sunset.
I debated calling him out on his story, accusing him of sharing irrelevant details so I could see his reaction, but the words caught in my throat.
Thorn’s warnings were loud and clear in my memory—vampires were the only people I could trust—but he looked so dejected, and I couldn’t fathom how it would benefit him to admit that his aim had been to start a war.