20. Krait
Chapter 20
Krait
S tepping out into the courtyard with my former bounty hunter and the last Prince of Phynx had a nostalgic feeling. The world had been a much different place the last time we’d gathered. Magic had been widespread in the realms. The Sahlms had not existed.
Fen had once frequented the court of Brennax, and for different fees, he’d set out on many missions to collect artifacts and information for me. Unlike his sister, he’d never known what he was truly looking for. That truth had taken many centuries for me to reveal to my dearest friends.
The warlock had no allegiances to my or Ryn’s courts. Fen, Amara and Firose had been free agents in dealings with our kingdoms. The Three — as the Old World lords had called them.
I hoped that Fen’s leanings remained similarly neutral today, hoped that we might start again on new ground.
Now that Sybilla, the Last Daughter of Isleen, was here, under my roof, it felt like my life had circled around and come screeching to a halt. We were back at the beginning—with two tense realms and more to lose than ever.
“I’m sorry,” I said, breaking the silence.
Fen rested his forearms on the bridge railing as we looked over the main canal. “Before I accept your apology—sorry for what exactly?”
“I’d just take the apology. They don’t come often,” Ryn teased, stepping up to the railing.
“I’m sorry for thinking you would turn on Brennax, that you would choose a path of destruction. I see now I was wrong—and I’m not above admitting when I have been deceived.”
Fen blew out a “ Pft ” and shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone thought the worst of me. I don’t need apologies, but I do need an explanation of how you two came to be so chummy and why you were so bent on taking Asterie here?” Fenris glanced between me and Ryn. “Because that part, I don’t forgive you for.”
“This one’s yours to tell.” Ryn clapped my shoulder. “I need to see a man about a bar tab—I’ll be back. Try not to start any wars while I’m gone.” Ryn pushed away from the railing.
Fenris eyed me cautiously before I spoke. “After I met Princess Freya, we began to court secretly. It went on for years—sneaking through Egresses to one another, skirting our guards for moments alone during negotiations. Even after my father died and I took his crown, I knew better than to think a marriage would be accepted by her father. So we eloped—we intended to tell him after peace negotiations were concluded. Ryn and Freya’s dearest friend were the only two who knew.”
Fenris stilled and watched me with intensity and pity. That soured my stomach. I didn’t need his pity.
I continued, “That friend of Freya’s, an advisor to her father’s court, told him that we’d been married.”
Fen ground out, “Firose. She was Freya’s dearest friend.”
I nodded. “He took our marriage as a threat to his crown, a traitorous act considering Freya was his heir to the throne since Ryn had refused it.”
Fenris blew out a breath. “He killed her,” he guessed.
My body temperature rose. I was still unable to talk about it without the sinking feeling of rage. “We were in peace negotiations, but my troops were still stationed along Phynx’s borders as a precaution. That night, after he…”
“You chose to attack the city after he killed her.”
I nodded as that familiar lump in my throat grew.
It was my fault.
Focusing on the flowing water of the canal and the moonlight reflecting off of it, I admitted, “I lashed out in the only way I was trained to—I told Commander Stygian to prepare for war. He was instructed to provide a warning call so civilians could evacuate. He was to attack only until the throne surrendered. He did not issue any warning, and he did not retreat when white flags flew.”
Fenris shook his head. “Did you kill him?”
“We found his decimated body. His war helmet was all that was left to identify him. I wish I could have been the one to kill him,” I said with a tight jaw.
“Firose spoke with Stygian that night—she went to the front lines to negotiate with him. I’d thought...”
“We all thought wrong. We were all pawns in a much larger game.”
“Pawns of who?”
“Caym. He has risen—was rising then too.”
Fen cut me off. “C’mon, Krait. You know that I’m skeptical of the ‘Sources walking the lands’ legends. It’s hard to think of the Origins as anything but balls of energy in the sky—or wherever they come from.”
“How can you be so skeptical when your betrothed is in part one of them?”
Fenris turned to me with a scowl and snapped, “You leave her out of this.”
I raised my palms. “I apologize for what happened in Luz, but I can’t leave her out of it. She glows. When was the last time you saw someone with that much Source power aside from me?”
“I like the glowing.” Fen smirked. “Let’s say you’re right...What does it mean?”
I ground my teeth a moment. “You can’t deny that even for Firose, her actions were out of character. So were Stygian’s. There had to be an outside influence. I believe what happened in Phynx, and Luz, was Caym’s doing. It is just the beginning...We need to be careful.”
My old friend shook his head. “All I ever am is careful. But what does this have to do with wanting to take Asterie with you after the attack on Luz?”
I took a deep breath. “All those years I had you searching for something—you remember? I was looking for weapons against Caym. There are supposedly three relics. But I was not only seeking physical artifacts. I also sought a woman with Reverist power strong enough to be linked to the First Reverist’s lineage. And I’ve found her.”
Fen began to growl out, “If you think that I’m going to hand over Asterie—”
I cut him off. “It isn’t your Star-wielder. I thought so at first, but I was wrong.”
At my words, Fen reeled back as though realizing who else I could mean. There was a long silence as he studied me.
Before Fen could react, Ryn returned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Did you get to the part where I groveled to come with him into the Sahlms?”
“Not yet,” I grunted out.
“I adored Freya as much as our people did,” Ryn explained to Fen. “There was no world I wished to live in that she was not a part of. I wanted her to be happy, and there was never a time when I saw her happier than the day she married this asshole.”
Ryn had a way of demolishing my emotions anytime he said his sister’s name. He was the only one I didn’t bark at to not say it—he was owed his own grief.
“Keep your ears open for rumblings of Caym’s influence, and mark my words, Fen—he will destroy any power he deems a threat.”
Ryn’s brows lifted. It wasn’t common for me to confide in anyone, but with the stakes so high, I was left with no choice.
“And you have a plan to stop him?” Fen asked.
I shrugged. “More or less.”
You must listen, Fifth Heir of Desidero. Find the Last Daughter of my dearest Isleen. The heir you bear together will be both Origin and Reverist. Your child is the key to ending Death’s reign—the key to setting us all free.
That excerpt from The Book of Isolde had haunted my life since it had been read to me as a child.
Fen snorted a laugh. “And it has something to do with Queen Sybilla? You’ve actually convinced the most headstrong royal I’ve ever met to marry you? What exactly does being the ‘last Reverist’ mean for her?”
“It means she is stronger than any power this realm has seen in centuries.” Half of the truth.
Ryn thankfully interrupted. “Speaking of which, we should go check and make sure she and Asterie haven’t drunk us dry of wine.”
Fenris looked at me with that glint of mischief I remembered so well from when we’d been younger immortals and said, “You’re not going to tell me the real answer are you?”
We headed back into Umber House and I grumbled, “Not before I tell her.”
The moment I stepped inside, I was met with a high-pitched screech.
No, not a screech—a shriek. I couldn’t tell where it came from.
Sybilla.
Thinking she would be safe with the Star-wielding enchantress suddenly felt like the most foolish choice.
Following the screams, I burst through the Shadows and up to the sitting room. Asterie knelt beside Sybilla, trying and failing to calm her. Sybilla writhed against the sofa, letting out agonized sounds between screams that barely sounded human.
“What have you done?” I shouted.
A moonstone rested on the floor beside them.
My Shadows wrapped around the Star-wielder and pulled her away, knocking her backward onto the ground.
She squeaked out in protest. “Nothing—we tried to conjure a prophecy about her attackers. It-it was as though she was ripped from me.”
That wolf-beast of hers snarled at me with raised hackles, but Asterie called him to her arm and the ink reappeared there.
Panic seized me.
Sybilla stopped screaming as Fen, Ryn and El burst into the room behind us.
“What the fuck?” Ryn said and moved to help Fenris pick up Asterie off the ground. Fenris then put himself between my Shadows and Asterie. Elsedora lingered by the door, wide-eyed.
“Wake up, come on,” I commanded Sybilla as my knees sank down on the sofa beside her. Gripping her shoulders, I pulled her into an upright position. Sybilla’s eyelids popped open to reveal dark irises where striking green should’ve been—like the murky water at the depths of a lake.
Sybilla leveled a dark glare at me. “She will be mine in the end. I will take everything from you again, Desidero,” she said, but her voice was gargled and strained.
I didn’t balk. Instead, I barked back, “Over my dead body, Caym.”
Sybilla’s expression turned predatory. “I’m counting on that.”
Her eyes fluttered closed again, and I cradled her neck with my palm, tapping her cheek as gently as my panic would allow. “Sybilla, wake up.”
A hand grasped my shoulder. “Krait,” Elsedora warned.
“Get away from us,” I snarled.
The next time Sybilla’s lids snapped open, I was greeted with emerald and a cold relief washed down my spine. She flung herself back against the sofa’s armrest.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I breathed out.
“Asterie?” She searched for the enchantress.
“I’m here, I’m here.” Asterie approached, despite my threatening Shadows snapping around her ankles. “Where did you go? You slipped away so quickly.”
“He took me. The Death Origin, Caym. He...” Sybilla’s breath quickened as she trailed off, and Elsedora pulled me back by the shoulders. Sybilla looked like an animal trapped in a corner, disheveled and frantic.
El said, “Give her space , Krait.”
Asterie crouched beside Sybilla. “You’re with us. Breathe, my Queen. Breathe. Count with me,” she soothed but didn’t attempt to touch her.
Sybilla mouthed the numbers along with Asterie. “Ten…nine…eight…seven...”
“I hate to ask you this. But while the memory is fresh, tell me, what did he look like?” Asterie asked.
Sybilla answered, “He...he was veiled in gray, but his eyes...they were the worst shade of green—with flecks of amber. He felt wrong to his core. It is hard to explain.”
Asterie turned to Fen. “I’ve seen him once too. In the orchard, when I had the vision of what happened to my mother—Firose’s face contorted into his. Fen, I know you don’t believe us, but—”
“I do,” Fen cut in. “I believe you, my beauty. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” He moved to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she rose.
Sybilla stared at them with tear-soaked cheeks. Every impulse in me itched to comfort her. It had been a long time since I’d soothed anyone, and my boots froze to the floor.
“I need to be alone. Please, everyone, go.” Sybilla pushed up off the sofa. She circled behind it to put distance between herself and the rest of us.
“No,” I answered more gruffly than intended. Despite whatever fire she wanted to throw at me verbally, there was no way I would leave her alone, especially when she looked that fucking terrified. “Elsedora, take our guests to their quarters. Ryn, go make sure the house has a full staff of guards around the perimeter and dismiss all of the maids. I don’t want a soul in this house other than those in this room.”
“What will swords and shields accomplish?” Sybilla snapped. Her whole body shook as she steadied herself, white knuckles on the wooden frame of the sofa. She glanced at Elsedora and said, “Bring me the dagger that the men in the dungeon used to attack me.”
Elsedora nodded and jogged out of the room without question.
“We’ll be just down the hall,” Asterie assured Sybilla. The enchantress’ hands shook, too, and the expression of remorse written on her face gave me some confidence that she had not done this intentionally.
They all exited the room, leaving me and Sybilla alone. The click of the door cut through the silence.
“We should stop meeting like this,” Sybilla said, but I was not amused by the situation. This was the second time she’d been attacked while under my roof.
“Agreed,” I snapped back, immediately hating my tone.
“I’m going to need you to be nicer or leave me the fuck alone.”
“Charming,” I gritted through my teeth. My posture relaxed only slightly. Our gazes met over the couch—I couldn’t think of a nice thing to say or do. How pathetic was that? El had been right. I definitely owed this woman more than flowers.
Adrenaline ran hot in my veins. Slowly, I stepped around the couch to stand next to her. Breath ragged, she watched me approach.
I flinched as she flung her arms around my middle and squeezed. She whispered, “Don’t say anything. Please.”
Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I ignored the tickle of her curls against my nose and felt her relax into me. The warm condensation of her breath wet my tunic, and the rise and fall of her chest slowed. The scent of lilac, tea leaves and fresh linen enveloped me—so distinctly her.
“Am I allowed to say anything yet?” I asked.
“No.”
She clung to me for a few more minutes before she straightened and released her grip. Unraveling my arms, I plucked a stray curl that had gotten stuck in my tunic button so it wouldn’t snag. She still looked so damned shaken. I wanted to wrap my arms around her again.
“Thank you,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off her linen dress.
“Mhm,” I answered, unable to think of a single coherent thing to say that would ease her fear. “Why is Elsedora bringing you that dagger?”
Tears welled in her eyes; my teeth ground when one slipped down her cheek.
“Because I think I know where it came from.”
There was a knock on the sitting room door before Elsedora entered with the blade. She crossed the room and handed it over, still without question, as though not wanting to break thin ice.
Sybilla turned the blade. I followed her gaze to where a symbol was engraved on the pommel—three skulls run through with a triangle. It looked oddly familiar…
The air was knocked from her lungs in a quiet gasp. She bent at the waist, unable to stand against the weight of whatever she’d just realized.
“I’m going to bed,” she said breathlessly, as she quickly handed the dagger back to a very confused Elsedora. “Destroy this. Immediately. It is how Caym found me.”
My fists clenched at my sides. What did that symbol mean to her and why did I feel like I’d seen it before?
“I’ll walk you to bed.” It wasn’t a question, and she flashed a watery glare at me but didn’t argue. It wasn’t the time to pry into why she’d needed to see that dagger…but I had my guess as to what she’d pieced together.
That dagger had come from Helos.
I motioned for her to walk first down the hall and then up the steps. We came to the bedchamber door, and I reached around her to open it. Unsure of whether she truly wanted to be alone, I didn’t follow her through the frame; instead, I leaned there.
“If you need anything, I’ll be right out here.” I pointed to a bench across the hallway. I’d stare at that door all night.
Answering too quickly, she said, “No. Stay. On the cot.” Her voice wavered. “I...don’t actually want to be alone.”
She kicked off her leather mules and walked toward the bed. Looking defeated, she slipped under the covers without changing.
Seeing her spit fire was a royal pain in my ass. Seeing her vulnerable was cracking parts of me I’d thought had more stable foundations.
Sybilla had encountered Caym tonight and lived. It doubled my resolve to help her prepare to face him.
I kicked off my boots and laid on top of the cot’s covers. The silence stretched between us until her breathing turned into a low whistle. Only then did I close my eyes.