23. Scarlet Tempest
Scarlet Tempest
KAEL
“Syoran!”
Cradling Rohen against me, I settled the back of my hand against her forehead.
Cold. With the realization, images of Percival assaulted my mind—the light fading from his eyes—threatening to rob me of the air in my lungs.
Blinking through tears, I tried to focus on the beading sweat just above Rohen’s brow and the subtle rise and fall of her chest.
“Syoran—”
Warmth grazed my back. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
My fingers trembled, but as he solidified his touch, the tremors began to dissipate.
“She… She was fine when we split up, but as I was searching, I heard her fractured breaths. When I got over here, she was like… in a trance.” Syoran started to speak, but the words were falling from me faster than I could stop them.
“It took three times for me to call her name before she came to, but as soon as she did, a wave of pain I’ve never witnessed nearly sent her to the ground. And shortly after that, she fainted.”
Confusion lined his expression. “Did she say anything about what she was feeling?”
“No,” I whispered.
A lump formed in my throat at my admission. While I hadn’t known Rohen for very long, she had quickly become someone I was easily able to call a close friend. Sure, her first impressions hadn’t been too… impressive, but it didn’t take long for me to see through the mask she wore.
We were similar in that way, identities molded by the expectations of others.
We both wielded defensiveness as a weapon to protect ourselves, but deep down, all we longed for was someone to see through our mirage.
That’s why I opened up to her so willingly, and her presence at the palace was the only reason I chose to reach for the concept of freedom once more.
If she hadn’t been there to rescue me, I would’ve ended up bound to Sorva, completing whatever task she requested of me. But Rohen had gotten there just in time, and yet I hadn’t been fast enough for her.
And now she…
Fingers brushed across my cheek, drawing my attention from the dangerous path I’d wandered down. “Kael.”
Throat bobbing, I lifted my gaze to meet Syoran’s dark stare.
Concern rippled through irises I once believed to be dark as night, speckles of golden brown now visible with our closeness.
His thumb followed the line of my stubble once more, and I chased his touch as if guided by something instinctual.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m… I’m just worried about her.”
Hand slipping with hesitance, he checked Rohen’s pulse.
The sharp shing of metal came at his proximity, the dagger settling against the inside of his wrist before he could even make contact.
Its sharpened tip pressed against his skin, a hitched inhale coming from the woman I held as my eyes fell to her.
“For fuck’s sake, Kao…” Rohen mumbled, her head lolling to meet my chest.
“What in the gods' names are you ‘for fuck’s sakeing’ me for? You were unconscious, Levitte; smite me for trying to ensure you hadn’t faded into Elaros’s embrace.”
“Well, lucky enough for you, it is not Elaros’s arms I found myself in.” Shoulders rising with a steadying breath, she tossed him a playful smirk. “Just a handsome prince’s.”
“Yes,” Syoran’s brows drew together in annoyance, “I’m aware.”
Cheeks heating at his utterance, I interjected, “You frightened me.”
Emerald hues locking on me, Rohen frowned slightly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what… I don’t know what happened.”
“What do you remember?” Syoran questioned.
“There was this sharp spike of pain that surged up my spine before a deep headache settled.”
She went to sit up, but I shoved her back into my hold. “No. Take a godsdamned minute. Please.”
With the dip of her chin, she continued, “I remember touching the wall”—she gestured to where I had found her slouched over, palm against stone—“and then I was hit with…”
At the fade of her words, Syoran pushed, “Hit with?”
“Caspian.” Conflict caused her features to pinch. “We were together, but happy.”
“You mean to tell me you two didn’t have blades at each other’s throats?” Syoran teased.
Without missing a beat, she punched him in the thigh. “Asshole.”
“I am what I eat, I suppose.” Shrugging indifferently as if he hadn’t uttered such, he motioned to the wall. “Seems you collided pretty hard with it, considering a godsdamned stone is out of line. You sure you didn’t hit it with that hard head of yours?”
“Go fuck yourself, Kao.”
“Oh, I have done that. Plenty.”
A groan left me, but the corners of my mouth curled upward at their back-and-forth. “As much as I would love to sit here and listen to the two of you verbally obliterate each other, we should probably get back to what we were doing.” I looked at Rohen. “Are you okay to stand?”
“I don’t know, future king; you’re the one who prevented me from so much as sitting up. So you tell me. Am I okay to stand?”
With a roll of my eyes, I nudged her out of my arms. Helping her upright once more, a soft grunt came from her as she placed her palm back against the wall.
Eyes sweeping between us, she opened her mouth to utter something vulgar, but the curse that tumbled from me as soon as I fixated on the stone Syoran mentioned prevented her from doing so.
“What the fuck?”
“What?” Syoran followed my line of sight, a satisfied hum coming from his chest. “See. I told you. She has a hard fucking head.”
“Hand,” Rohen corrected. “It was my fucking hand, idiot.”
“You said a deep ache settled in…”
Their banter dissipated as I moved toward the dislodged stone.
Curling two fingers around the side of it that had shot free, I yanked.
It rubbed against its surrounding neighbors, the grind only temporary, before it slipped free as if it had always been meant to.
I tossed it to the side with indifference, too drawn in by the darkness that welcomed me.
No, not the darkness, but the gold bag that sat propped up like it had been staged.
Syoran’s timbre flooded my senses as I blinked a handful of times, testing to see if what I found was a mere illusion. “...So not only have you elected to damage this place, but now Kael is tearing it apart.”
When I remained silent, Rohen’s voice filled the gap. “Kael? Are you okay?”
Reaching into the newly created hole, I snatched the bag and pulled my arm out. With a quick brush, I cleared the dust from my shirt before I glanced over my shoulder at them. “I think Rohen may have unintentionally found what we needed.”
“Wait, that was in there?” Rohen asked as I untied the silk ribbon that kept it closed. “A coin pouch?”
Syoran blew out a breath. “I swear to the gods if her colliding with this wall is all it took for us to find the first artifact…”
Not waiting for them to begin exchanging taunts with each other once more, I opened it, and what peered out at me caused my breath to hitch.
Glistening with an otherworldly quality, the seven coins nestled against one another as if fearful of their discovery.
Polished to perfection, their gilded gleam seemed even more potent than that of pure gold.
They had not been carved by a human hand; their edges had been refined to the point that only a smooth, flawless circle remained.
But it wasn’t its shape nor quality that stole the air from my lungs.
It was the ship etched into its face and the identifying flag it flew.
The Scarlet Tempest. Alastair.
Part of Lorelie’s statement crawled back to me. “...the strongest way to link himself to his Child.”
“Holy shit.”
“What?” Rohen and Syoran chimed in simultaneously.
Fishing into the bag, I pulled a coin free and held it up for them. “Not only have we found the artifact, but very evident proof of who Jaskor’s Child is.”
Rohen closed the gap between us, plucking the gold from me to examine it herself. “I fucking knew it.”
“Knew what?” Syoran questioned from his unmoved position.
“Alastair,” Rohen answered. “Alastair is Jaskor’s Son.”
His eyes widened. “Which is probably the reason he…”
“Survived his clash with Caspian?” Dipping her chin, Rohen dropped the god’s coin into its rightful place. “Yep. Which means we need to get these to Alastair, because if what Lorelie said is true, then his connection with Jaskor will open—”
The steady ding of a bell slipped from the staircase we’d wandered down, penetrating the library with an echo of its rhythm. Continuing five more times, it slowly lulled the darkened night back into silence.
The three of us exchanged confused glances, and when I started to speak, it was not my voice that came, but Lorelie’s. “Where the hell are you guys?”
“Over here,” Syoran called with little effort, his timbre rolling across the stone to meet her wherever she was.
Her footfalls became audible before she rounded one of the bookshelves, her pupils blown with unease. “We need to—”
I lifted the bag. “We found the artifact.”
“Great,” she huffed before continuing, “put it somewhere you won’t lose it. We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Why?” we asked unanimously.
“Because the chime you just heard wasn’t a mark of the hour; it was a warning. Royal ships are approaching.” Lorelie only offered Syoran and me her attention for a split second before honing in on Rohen. “Caspian has found us.”