24. Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
The silk sheets were soft against his skin. Cyrus stirred, letting himself enjoy the comfort before he had to…
Before he had to—
He pushed himself up on his elbows.
“Don’t get up.” Essandra stood from where she’d been sitting in a chair and stepped to the bed.
His bed.
In his chamber.
And it all came back to him.
He bolted upright. “Where’s Teron?”
Her face was grave.
His stomach dropped, but she quickly said, “He’s doing all right. His fever broke, and he’s breathing easier. He’s still resting, like you should be.”
Cyrus could let himself breathe. Teron was all right. He glanced around. “How did I get back here?”
“Orion brought you. You walked, kind of, but you were quite out of it, so it doesn’t surprise me you don’t remember. You still need more rest, though. Everan and Kord and Visa are all resting too.”
His pulse quickened. Resting? Why would they be resting? “What’s wrong with them? What happened?”
“They’re going to be fine.” She kneaded her hands. “But they’re suffering the effects of the tether.”
He shook his head. “What effects? What does that mean?”
“It’s a physical bond, Cyrus. What your body suffers, their bodies suffer.”
He stilled and looked down at his linen-wrapped arms. His chest tightened as his stomach turned. “They felt it?” he asked. “I cut them?”
“They’re going to be fine,” she assured him.
“What about Visa?” The pulse of his heartbeat in his ears almost deafened him. He’d hurt Visa…
“She’s going to be all right too, but Cyrus…” She paused. “I had to break her tether.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t sure if she’d make it. I broke it to keep her from killing you.”
He didn’t understand.
“Under the tether, if she died, you’d die,” she explained.
“And with all the blood loss, she was really close.” Her lip trembled, and her voice pitched higher.
“It’s my fault. I should have known, I should have done the tether after taking your blood, but I…
I was working too quickly. I wasn’t thinking. ”
He pushed himself up and tried to rise from the bed. “I have to see them.”
“No.” She put her hand on his chest to stop him. “You need to rest.”
He paused at her touch. She’d touched him yesterday as they’d worked, but it’d been in the flurry of things, and neither of them had been thinking. But now that they were alone…
Her eyes dropped to her hand, and she pulled it away. She obviously hadn’t intended it to mean anything. He understood.
But he couldn’t rest. He couldn’t just lie here. He needed to get out of this room.
“I have to see them,” he insisted. He stood, and a wave of lightheadedness hit him. He grabbed the edge of the bed to steady himself.
“Wait,” she said.
“I can’t.”
“There’s something else you need to know.”
He paused. Could it get worse?
“The Serran princes.” She paused. “They didn’t make it.”
The boys? No. “Both of them?”
She nodded. “It’s taking children quickly.”
Cyrus sank back down onto the edge of the bed.
He wasn’t sure why the loss hit him the way that it did.
He shouldn’t care at all. In fact, he should have killed the boys in Serra.
He’d needed to eliminate the bloodline. It was his duty, his responsibility.
But he’d told them they’d be safe here. Martine’s whispered words still lingered. Do you promise?
He’d promised.
The gods had claimed them regardless.
A pain pierced his chest.
He’d fucking promised.
He couldn’t think about this right now—it was too much. He tried to push it from his mind.
“I need to see Everan,” he said, standing again.
“At least change the wraps on your arms before you go,” she said.
“Later.”
He left his chamber and hurried to the suite that Everan shared with Visa. His heart beat heavily in his throat as he knocked on the door.
Everan opened it.
Cyrus’s gaze dropped to his friend’s wrapped arms. Blood had seeped through, staining the linen crimson, like his own. His breath shook. “Visa?” he asked.
“She’s sleeping.” Everan opened the door wider, inviting him in.
Cyrus had always liked Everan and Visa’s chamber.
She’d adorned it with brightly colored tapestries that she’d woven herself, with patterns of flowers and animals and birds—all from her life as a child before she’d been stolen away.
It was rich with a history not his own, but to Cyrus it still felt like home.
Above their bed hung a tapestry of two trees, woven around each other.
It represented their love, she’d explained to him after she’d woven it.
Now, to see her lying under it pained Cyrus all the more. Her arms, also wrapped and stained, lay crossed over her stomach.
“She’ll be happy to know you came by,” Everan said quietly.
And Cyrus couldn’t hold himself any longer. He drew in a ragged breath as he sank to his knees in front of Everan. “I’m so sorry.”
Everan grabbed him, pulling him up. “Get up. Get up!”
“I’m sorry,” Cyrus said again. It was the only thing he could say. “Forgive me.”
“You didn’t know.”
“Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t know.” Everan held him tightly. “She’s going to be fine. And when Teron’s recovered, he’ll make it like it never happened.”
But it had happened. A wave of emotion hit him, and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak.
“Cyrus?” Everan said, gripping him tighter.
Cyrus shook his head. “I can’t… I can’t do it.”
“You can’t do what?”
He couldn’t even get it out. “Everything… I can’t do it.”
“Sit down. Sit down.” Everan pulled him to the bench at the foot of the bed, and they both sank down onto it. “Visa’s going to be fine,” he assured him.
It wasn’t just Visa. It was everything. If the gods weren’t wrecking it all, Cyrus was. Everything.
“Miriel’s sick,” he told Everan.
“I heard.”
He couldn’t swallow the knot in his throat. “And the Serran boys are dead.”
Everan nodded gently. “I know.”
Tears stung his eyes. “I promised them,” he whispered. “I promised them they’d be safe here.”
“This wasn’t your doing.”
“The gods are punishing me.”
“You don’t even believe in the fucking gods,” Everan told him, clutching his arm. “So, fuck them.”
“I’ve lost Essandra. I’m losing Kord.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not. Essandra’s helping you.”
Cyrus shook his head. “But it’s different between us now. I ruined everything.”
“No, you didn’t. It just… feels that way right now.” Everan sighed. “And you’re not losing Kord. He’s upset, yes, but Kord is Kord. He’ll come around. You should go talk to him. I bet he’s thankful you didn’t tether Leti now.”
Everan was right. Now that Kord knew the effect of the tether—now that they all knew—he was probably relieved about Leti.
Cyrus nodded. He definitely needed his closest friends by his side, when everything was falling apart. “I’ll go do that now.”
“Good.”
He looked at Everan. “Everan, I…” He wasn’t sure exactly what to say.
He wanted to tell him he was a good friend.
A good brother. That he loved him and would do anything for him.
That he needed him and couldn’t imagine life without him.
But for some reason, he could say none of these things, even though they were all true. “I…”
Everan clasped his shoulder. “I know. Go find Kord.”
Cyrus left Everan’s chamber with a little more spirit than he’d arrived with, but before he went to see Kord, he stopped by Teron’s room.
He found the old healer sleeping peacefully, and Orion sitting in the chair beside the bed. The assassin stood abruptly as he entered.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Cyrus said in surprise.
Orion shrugged. “Essandra said if I left, she would… well… I just decided I should stay.”
Cyrus nodded. “Wise.” His gaze shifted to Teron, and he stepped to the bed. “How is he?”
“Sleeping like a babe. Occasionally snoring.”
Cyrus snorted. “Thanks for looking after him.”
“It’s nothing. Hey, I, uh…” He bobbed his head from one side to the other. “Essandra said you’d wanted to do your tether-bond shit with me. I mean, I know you couldn’t because you could only do a few, and I’m glad you couldn’t because then I’d be looking like you right now.”
Cyrus snorted again as he glanced down at his wrapped arms.
“But I just wanted to say that I appreciate you thinking about me,” Orion continued. “I’ve really never had anyone do that before.”
He gave a short nod. “Well, thanks for getting me back to my room earlier.”
“Yeah, you’re as heavy as a fucking horse, so I’ll accept that.”
Cyrus gave a small chuckle.
After checking on Teron, he set out to find Kord, which wasn’t hard. He was in the field office, not resting like he should be.
Kord sat at the desk, working through a stack of parchments. His arms were wrapped like Everan’s had been, and his cold gaze watched Cyrus as he stepped inside.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing all right,” Cyrus said, breaking the uneasy quiet.
“That’s a relative term,” Kord replied. “I’m not dead, so yes, I guess I’m all right.” He was still angry with him.
Cyrus supposed he deserved that. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and tell you that I really am sorry.”
Kord nodded, but it wasn’t a nod of acceptance. “I am glad it was me instead of Leti. She’s just a small thing—I’m not sure she would have survived.”
He was probably right. That would have been worse.
“Will you forgive me?” Cyrus asked.
But Kord shook his head sadly. “No.”
He wasn’t sure why Kord’s reply surprised him. He hadn’t expected him to say yes, but perhaps not yet . However, a straight no …
Cyrus wet his cracked lips. “So where do we go from here?”
“We go back to work.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Did this mean they just wouldn’t talk about it again? Were they moving past it? Were they stuck here?
“We have over six thousand dead now,” Kord told him, “and we don’t have anywhere to put the bodies. I’m going to start piling them in the arena. We need to burn them.”
Over six thousand dead.
“That’s a lot of people dead.”