9. Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Sailing back to Rael felt longer than sailing to Japheth, and as the ship pulled into port, Cyrus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.
He couldn’t wait to see Essandra’s face when he gave her the serium—and not just a few dried leaves but a whole bush that she could grow and collect at her whim.
He’d watched the plant incessantly throughout the two days it took to sail back, worried that it would die before he got it there.
It was coming from Japheth’s humid climate, and he took care to mist it often within its linen-shaded glass house.
Now it sat in the rear cabin. He would surprise her with it after settling.
Essandra was there to meet him at the docks. He was happy he’d hidden the bush away. One of the dogs was with her—Three.
“Welcome back,” she said as he stepped off the gangway.
“It’s good to be back. And good to see everything looks as I left it.” No fighting, no destroyed buildings, no capital ablaze.
“It was mostly uneventful,” she told him. “A letter arrived from Miriel.”
Pryam’s young queen still refused to communicate through the blood bond, despite becoming quite close with Cyrus. It was probably better she didn’t use it. As much as he liked Miriel, he didn’t want her voice incessantly in his head. And he liked her letters.
Three pushed his snout against Cyrus, wagging his hind, and Cyrus dropped his hand to scratch the animal behind the ear. Three had become partial to Essandra, often breaking from One and Two to follow her around.
Cyrus didn’t blame him.
Her green eyes reflected the light like emeralds, and her dark hair swirled around her in the harbor breeze.
“What?” she asked with a wrinkled brow.
“What?” he asked back.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I’m not.”
She eyed him suspiciously. Then she waved her hand and breathed, “Amana fasora,” breaking the bonding spell.
He’d forgotten it was even there. And it was strange she even bothered to break it.
She should just leave it all the time. It seemed tedious to have to create and break over and over again.
But he didn’t care about the spell right now.
“I brought you something,” he said. “A gift.”
Her eyes traveled his face as her brow quirked. “What is it?”
“You’ll have to wait until later.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Because I want you to wonder about it for a while.”
A smile lit her face, and he realized he didn’t see it often. He liked it.
“But come with me now to the council room,” he said, “and hear about everything that happened in Japheth.”
“Did you reach an agreement?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Are you going to get married?”
“No.” He eyed her. “Why do you care so much about my potential marriage?”
“I don’t,” she said quickly. “It was just a topic on the table, and I was curious. That’s all.”
“Well, it wasn’t even discussed.”
“Good—I mean, interesting.” She clasped her hands in front of her.
“The whole trip was interesting. You’ll want to hear.”
In fact, everyone wanted to hear. They crowded the council room as Cyrus recounted the details—from the arrival, to the city’s naming debacle, to the description of the capital and the palace, to the dinner where Gregor claimed responsibility for the attack on the Mercian queen, to them committing to work out the terms of their alliance over the coming weeks.
He shared everything. Everything except for the serium bush, which he would surprise Essandra with later.
The council was gleeful, even seeming to forget about the confrontation with the nobles that they’d previously been so upset by. Cyrus was happy to learn things in Rael had been uneventful while he was gone, putting him in even higher spirits. All in all, it was the best he’d felt in a long time.
The sun hung well past its peak before Cyrus finally managed to steal away with Essandra to her workroom. He’d had his men move the glass house there while they were in the council meeting.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he told her. But, not trusting her to keep them closed, he covered them with his hand as he pushed the door open and led her through. She stepped carefully.
“Keep them closed,” he said again.
“I am!”
He positioned her in front of the glass house, which had a cloth draped over it.
“Keep them closed,” he said yet again as he backed toward the house, watching that she followed his instruction.
She stood with her eyes squeezed shut as a grin spread across her face.
Carefully, he pulled the cloth from the glass. “You can look now,” he told her.
Essandra opened her eyes and stood grinning as her gaze settled on the glass. Her expression changed to one of confused surprise. “How… cute. A miniature conservatory.”
He waited.
She stepped nearer, nodding. “I’m sure… this will come in handy for—”
She stopped abruptly. The grin dropped from her face, and she just stared at the glass. Through the glass.
“Cyrus,” she breathed.
He smiled.
“What is that?” she whispered.
“You said you needed serium.”
“How did you even remember that, and”—her throat bobbed as her words caught—“where did you find it?” She didn’t even give him time to answer before she gasped. “And it’s a whole bush!”
“Gregor said it can’t grow in Rael.”
“It will grow,” she said eagerly. “I can make it grow.”
“I suspected you could. And now you have as much as you need, for however many spells you need it.”
Her eyes welled.
“Will you be able to bring back your family with it?” he asked.
“It will let me build the missing pieces I need for the Amoran Cup spell.”
He nodded. “Good.”
A tear spilled down her cheek. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say nothing. Get started.” And, giving her another smile, he left her to her work.
Orion’s stare was cold and reserved. He’d barely said two words since returning from Japheth. Cyrus didn’t know why Orion’s being upset bothered him. It didn’t , he told himself. So he wasn’t sure what made him call the assassin to his study.
“Another job?” Orion said curtly. He didn’t try very hard to hide his anger. He actually didn’t try at all.
Cyrus shook his head. “No.”
“What do you want, then?”
“I just wanted to see how your men were doing.”
“What do you care? There are less of us now. What you wanted, no doubt.”
“That’s not true.”
Orion snorted. “Yeah, okay.”
Cyrus eyed him. He wasn’t offended by his resentment. “I’m sorry about the Shadowlands,” he said. He wasn’t sure where the need to apologize came from, but it wasn’t wrong. In fact, Cyrus probably should have apologized sooner.
Orion shifted slightly. “Oh.”
“It’s my fault we failed. I made them wait.”
“I know.” The assassin’s voice was still bitter.
Cyrus straightened the inkwell on his desk. “Thane wanted to kill the queen while she was sleeping, but I wanted to find Alexander first. I…” He paused. “I wanted him to know what I was doing. I wanted to hurt him.”
Orion’s eyes narrowed. “But you were already going to kill him.”
“Sometimes, death isn’t enough.”
The assassin moved to the window, looking out.
Cyrus sighed. This had been a mistake. Why did he care what Orion thought, anyway? He hadn’t called him here to be judged. He should just dismiss him.
“You can’t wait on a kill,” Orion said. It wasn’t said with malice. The assassin’s gaze traveled the courtyard below. “I delayed once,” he said. “It cost me someone very close to me.” He turned back to Cyrus. “It’s a lesson most everyone learns the hard way.”
Was this forgiveness? Not that Cyrus needed forgiveness, not that he sought it. Or maybe he did. It would be nice to move forward. It would be nice to stop thinking about it.
“Did you find anything in Japeth about your woman?” Cyrus asked, testing.
Orion shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “No leads to where she might be, no information that she’d even been there at all.”
A quiet sat between them.
“You know,” Cyrus said finally, “I have a man who’s good at getting information. I could have him look into things.”
“You’d send him to Japheth?”
Cyrus shrugged. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to find anything that you couldn’t, but—”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. If he can find anything, anything at all…” His eyes pierced Cyrus in desperation. “You’d really do this?”
“Consider it done,” Cyrus said. Jaem would be up for the challenge, and he really was good. He might even obtain some additional useful information on Gregor. “I’ll send him the next time he calls through the bond.”
Just then, Essandra burst in. “I’m ready,” she said breathlessly.
She hadn’t left her workroom in days. However, each time Cyrus had checked in on her, she was in high spirits and focused—chanting spells, mixing herbs, scribbling notes. He’d let her work, having meals delivered so she didn’t need to stop to eat.
“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly noticing Orion. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Orion said quickly. “I should go.”
“It would be great if you could stay,” she told him. “And help.”
He glanced at Cyrus, then back to her. “Uh, all right. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m not sure,” she said as she shook her head. “I mean, I don’t know yet. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. This is a proxy spell for my sister, and there’s no telling what will happen.”
“Okay,” he said. “Now?”
She nodded with a smile, still breathless. “Yes.” Then her eyes found Cyrus again. “If now is all right?”
“Of course it is,” he told her.
“Uh…” Orion eyed her. “Do you… want to look a certain way when you see your sister for the first time?”
Only then did Cyrus notice her wrinkled dress and the hair that had fallen wispily from where it had been pinned up.
“Well, I’m not going to actually see her tonight. This is just the first step of many. I’m creating a series of alternative spells, which I then hope to string together later for the final spell with the Amoran Cup.”
“Ah, right,” Orion said.
“Wait.” She paused. “Is there something wrong with how I look now?”