Chapter 20 Kidan
KIDAN
Kidan’s finger hovered above the headline, a pulsing motion making the word bounce and blur. Her heart picked up speed and slammed against her ribs.
You know they died, she told herself firmly.
But it was another matter to know the details. Until now, they were a faraway entity, floating by, and if she kept reading, she knew she’d ground them to her, anchor them as a part of herself that had been stolen.
Kidan didn’t do well with things that were taken from her.
Don’t. Keep scrolling.
She was back in that pitch-black room again, five years old with eerie warm breath tickling her neck, a monster watching.
Kidan squeezed her eyes shut and wished for June to be there, to hold her hand as they read about their parents.
Her large eyes would likely fill with tears.
Kidan scowled. She shouldn’t be thinking about protecting June. She was on her own now.
It took her a few breaths to read the article.
Uxlay is no stranger to shocking deaths, though none rocked the campus so violently as when young parents Mahlet Adane and Aman Yisak were gruesomely propped up at their dinner table with everything intact except their hearts.
It’s said the brutal holes were wide enough, you could peer right through them.
Kidan jerked back, feeling the coffee she’d consumed rise to her throat.
They took out… their hearts. Left them sitting at the dinner table. Pieces of their features she’d gleaned from the portrait hanging in the house rearranged themselves into gaping mouths and soulless eyes.
Adane House dranaics Susenyos Sagad and Tasi Lonar discovered the scene.
The murderer, infamously nicknamed Daric the Cruel, was detained in Drastfort Prison for six weeks before he was found dead. His heart was also missing.
His killer was not found.
The Adanes’ hearts were never recovered.
—Uxlay’s Grave Site
Collection of Every Member’s Death Year 2009
Kidan’s fingers drew a repeated square and triangle, fear and anger, on the table again and again.
She reached for her phone, shaking, and texted the one person who could give her answers. Susenyos.
I need to talk to you.
Kidan had barely seen him since the House Council meeting and their near-kiss by the willow tree. Knowing him, Susenyos would be looking for the blade artifact, but she needed him here.
Kidan searched up an image of Daric—a tall, muscular vampire that often smiled in his pictures. Her finger traced a triangle over the table, blood pumping furiously.
She recognized the person next to him: a young Adjoa Piran, captured outside the Acti Gala in an elegant dress, eyes shining.
Daric was a vampire sworn to Piran House. And he had murdered her parents.
Then someone had killed him.
Kidan stared at her mother’s photo on her laptop, those dark eyes, trying to see into her mind. Mahlet Adane had to graduate in order to master her house and set a law, which meant she’d taken a life.
Had Kidan’s violence come from her mother, then, instead of from vampires?
Who had her mother killed during her Dranacti studies?
Was it driven by creative jealousy and revenge like Yusef’s act, or was it more calculated like Slen’s?
Or were her motives similar to Kidan’s, the urge to protect someone roaring so loud, white anger possessing her very soul?
The questions whirled and buzzed in her mind until Uxlay disappeared into nothingness.
Kidan needed to know.
Everything.
On Uxlay’s database, her mother had written several articles in Amharic, the complexity and depth of which Kidan could never understand.
A hollowness spread between her ribs as she pulled out the Four Points of Culture and answered the first question for her mother.
What language does the house master dream in?
Amharic.
Does the house master believe creation comes from the Last Sage or from Demasus the Fanged Lion?
Does the house master believe power should rest in community, tradition, or individuals?
Does the house master believe in bravery, revenge, loyalty, responsibility, or family?
Kidan was right about her mother tongue.
It felt like a bridge to every question she had about herself.
A path to where she came from. Whether she was a myth or real, whether her lineage could reach her with a message or a sign.
But how many years would it take her to learn the language? To “dream” in it?
Severing already sounded easier, though the concept made her mouth run dry.
Slen and Yusef had their readings from Mastering Power Before Law open on the café table and were arguing about Arin, but she barely heard them.
“I avoid her at all costs,” Yusef was saying. “If she doesn’t see me, she’s not interested. Professor Andreyas keeps her busy. I swear I saw him smile at Arin in his office.”
“The professor doesn’t smile,” Slen said.
“Exactly. It was weird.”
The trees bracketing Sheba Square shifted with a high gust of wind, ruffling students’ papers and books.
Kidan’s eyes snagged on a pretty girl in a long skirt, tucking back her curling braids.
Everything came to a sharp halt.
June was smiling broadly, surrounded by a group of students.
Entirely at ease. This was how she moved through the world, without a care for those she burned.
There were places in Uxlay Kidan had wanted to show June, like the shimmering fountain or the sugar-dusted doughnuts from Sweet Fang Bakery but seeing her in this space now rotted everything.
Reminded her of how selfish her sister had been.
You have your life, Kidan. And I have mine.
“Enough studying.” Kidan shut her laptop with a snap and placed it in her bag. “Let’s have a little fun.”
Yusef stood as well, smirking. “Words I never get sick of.”
Slen sighed, wanting to argue, before following Kidan’s gaze. The pain in her eyes must have been obvious because Slen nodded slowly, then shut her book. Kidan strolled across the courtyard with them, her gaze incredibly focused.
She walked right through June’s little circle without apology and perched on the bench. A small sound of protest emitted from June when Kidan’s boot knocked over her coffee cup. June quickly righted it, appearing terrified.
Dark satisfaction spread in Kidan’s veins.
“Hi.” Kidan smiled wide. Slen and Yusef joined her on either side. “I’m Kidan. Recent graduate of Dranacti. This is Slen and Yusef. Who wants to ask us questions?”