Chapter Eleven #2
Hilo scoffed and crossed his arms, his brown eyes sliding from River to Kai and back again.
While he shared Kai’s colouring, the similarities ended there: Hilo had to be half a foot taller than his brother, limbs gangly and rough-hewn, his features blunt.
The smirk was the same, however, as was the sly, curious tone: “Bodyguard, huh? Since when d’you need one of them? ”
“Since Kai decided the best way to win a fight was to stand there and take a hit,” River said matter-of-factly.
“I did win.”
“Lina and I won it for you.”
Hilo laughed and said to Kai in the gods’ tongue, “I like him. But mind yourself, he looks like he’d return whatever bullshit you give him threefold.”
Kai reddened and emitted a nervous laugh. “He can speak the gods’ tongue, you lanky bitch.”
A pair of Leviathos henchmen shouldered past, a long crate balanced between them; its back corner knocked into the altar, scratching it and sending a spray of old plaster and mother-of-pearl flakes snowing to the ground.
“Careful, you wankers!” Hilo shouted after them. He knelt, inspected the mark. “Pricks. Couple of pretty words from Archpriest Saros and suddenly Nalu’s bending over backwards lugging shit up to Caelos and breaking my nice things.”
Kai drew a line through the dusting of plaster with his boot. “Changed his tune, has he?”
Hilo stood and brushed out his clothes. “You’d think them boxes were filled with snow with the way he’s looking after them. It’s just furniture and books and junk Saros wants stored in his new quarters at Caelos.”
River frowned. “New quarters?”
“Hey, speaking of snow,” Kai said, but Hilo punched him in the arm.
“I’m cutting you off of that shit,” he snapped.
Then, to River, “Holiday home or something, I dunno, he wants a suite for himself overlooking Lodestone. I’m only here today to show him some window sketches.
Something fancy, I was thinking of going all-out with the tracery, haven’t decided on lancet or full moon style – ”
“I can envision it now,” Kai said, yawning.
More Leviathosi marched through, followed by Nalu, his expression controlled.
He nodded to Hilo but didn’t spare Kai and River a glance as he passed, and despite River supposedly being Kai’s bodyguard, it was Kai who moved, subtly, to stand between them.
Maybe he was serious about repaying his supposed debt.
Hilo scowled once Nalu had disappeared into the market day crowd. “Real important man now, him.” He cracked his knuckles and pivoted, striding up the steps to the altarhouse. “Keep an eye on him from here,” he called behind him to Kai. “Don’t let him forget his chain of command, Warden.”
Kai followed, his mouth tight, and River waited for the smart comment, the unnecessary joke.
But for once, Kai said nothing.
River plinked away at his piano that afternoon, thinking about what Hilo had said, about the contemptuous sneer on Nalu’s face. About Saros, furnishing rooms for himself in Caelos.
“Oh, that,” Saros had said, distracted, when River had asked him. “Yes, they’ll be nice when they’re finished. Well-protected, too; gods, after I have our Kai working his magic about the place, Caelos will be indestructible.”
Kai hadn’t mentioned being tasked with protecting Caelos as well as Oseidos. River thought back to when Kai first arrived here, temperamental and snow-addled and unbearable to be around, and hoped for all their sakes that he’d have an easier time with Caelos.
Saros didn’t reveal anything else – Sorry, son, much to do, much to do – and River was left wondering what all would happen once Kai told him everything they’d learned from Lina.
Kai still insisted on holding onto the information for now, waiting until feeding it to Saros would benefit them the most.
“We’re safe here, we’ve got time,” Kai had said on the walk back to the acolytes’ building. “I’ll wait until maybe the next time I need to one-up Etan and Nalu, and hopefully by then Goddess Apparent will have her act together.”
“Stop calling her Goddess Apparent,” River grumbled. “Ione has prepared for this since she was a child.”
“And she’ll be a fine hydromancer once I’m through with her, but if she was less stubborn she’d wield me and keep her hands clean.
” The smile returned, vulpine. Cunning. “Down south, they sing about my father’s exploits, about his control of the Seven Star Isles, of his mastery over the treacherous black sea. ”
The way he looked at River chilled him. “Soon, they’ll sing about Menon’s immaculate command over Her most loyal weapon and his hordes of bloodthirsty spellcasters.” He grinned, boyish, the icy power melting. “I’ll spare Lina though, I think. Otherwise I’d feel bad.”
River’s finger slipped, discordant notes grating on him.
Kai had been pacing around his room next door for the past few minutes, heavy footsteps and creaking floorboards setting River’s teeth on edge.
He heard a dull skidding noise, the armchair being pulled up against the wall their rooms shared.
Just when River began to relax – finally, Kai would calm down and play for a while – the footsteps resumed. A door opened, closed.
And a knock on his own door sent his heart into his throat.
He turned in his seat and stared at the closed door, adrenaline spiking despite the sunset quiet. When Kai knocked again, River flinched, surveyed his room (clean), caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror (confused), and hurried to unlock his door.
Kai blinked, like he wasn’t convinced River would actually answer.
He’d shed his usual Warden of Oseidos attire, the elegant jacket and waistcoat and jewellery.
He wore instead a loose shirt with embroidered cuffs tucked into a simple pair of trousers, his violin case slung under one arm and his hair falling in messy, freshly-washed waves.
“Hi,” Kai said, and then cleared his throat. He pointed past River to the wall. “I was thinking, that wall really fucks with the acoustics.”
River followed his gaze, lost. “Walls do do that.”
Mutely Kai held up his violin case, letting the question hang between them.
Kai looked just as surprised when River moved aside to allow him through.
He said nothing as he skulked in, walking delicately, like he didn’t want to break anything.
Not that there was much to break: a crisply-made bed and colour-coded bookshelf beside the window, a sword rack hanging on the wall over a neat row of shoes; a small table and one chair.
Save for the upright piano, the only interesting feature was the tea set on his table painted with irises that Ione and Cynthia had given him for his birthday, but Kai seemed more impressed that his floor was clean.
Kai looked younger somehow, less sure, the chilling conversation from earlier erased. “What was that waltz you were playing last night?”
Somehow River was sitting back at his piano, Kai leaning over him, watching him flip through his sheet music. He straightened and rolled up his sleeves, a scholar again, and pinned his violin between his chin and shoulder as he ran a stick of rosin up and down his bow.
It was an easy enough waltz, a bouncy cadence, a whimsical quality gradually becoming more solemn. River had practiced it enough that he was able to take his eyes off the music every now and again. To glance up at Kai, see what he looked like when he performed.
River had been told that he looked angry when he played, an unintended byproduct of concentration.
By contrast Kai was transformed with each stirring vibrato, warm and freckled in the dying sunlight, a faint, peaceful smile on his lips.
Not a warden or a dog; not a demon or the result of a violent upbringing. Just another man, lost in a song.
River wasn’t sure which of these facets of him was real. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know.
Kai’s gaze met his, making heat prickle across River’s face. He heard a flubbed chord and inwardly cringed; Kai’s mouth twitched, his eyes crinkling, but he said nothing. Pointedly River faced forward again, ignored him, ignored everything but the notes in front of him.
The song deepened, became more wistful; a majestic crescendo brought it to an end, leaving the room stone quiet in the wake of the last notes.
River played with his fingers, with a bent corner of his sheet music, refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead.
Over the roaring of his own pulse in his ears, he listened to Kai’s tranquil breaths, to the rustle of his shirt. To one footstep, two, nearing.
River scooted to the edge of the piano bench without thought, mesmerised when Kai sat beside him, the violin perched on his lap.
“That was fun,” Kai murmured, his own focus on the sheet music. He turned a few pages, musing. “I en’t played with anybody in years.”
River swallowed, his eyes on Kai’s long fingers, the muscled line of his forearm. “You’re very good.”
He lowered his head, smiling, startlingly bashful. His thumb traced the contours of his violin. “I learned on the Cetos. A lotta musicians below deck, a lotta time to pass between landings. Hilo plays accordion, but Etan and Nalu were never interested.”
“Music is for weaklings,” River said, and Kai laughed.
“You already know them well.”
Silence reigned again, punctuated by the crinkle of paper.
River schooled his breaths, lightheaded, and forgave himself for studying him, the straight dark eyelashes, the freckles peppering his face and forearms, the old scars.
Ice fight, Kai said simply when Mikau asked what had caused them, fine pale lines crisscrossing the bridge of his nose, his neck, his wrists.
River realised a beat late that Kai was looking back at him, eyes unnaturally blue again in this light. For once there was no snide remark, no mischievous smirk. Kai’s throat bobbed as he swallowed; he chewed his lips, his gaze falling briefly to River’s.
River wasn’t supposed to notice these things.
He’d had a serious talk with himself about it after his last disastrous infatuation – always on friends, always a risk, always painful – and promised himself he would be more like Cynthia, violently rejecting relationships, neither wanting to touch or be touched.
Noticing the curve of Kai’s broad shoulders, the spiced smoke scent of him, meant that River had failed to keep him at bay. That he had been weak.
He felt fingertips graze his thigh, featherlight, a question. River couldn’t move, his own heartbeat making him dizzy; he felt faraway, helpless, as Kai leaned in.
The first brush of a tongue against his lower lip clanged through him, warning bells. River lurched back, his pulse drumming so fast his limbs ached. “No.”
Kai’s breath caught, surprise colouring his features. “I, uh – ” He slid away, the hand on River’s thigh snatched back. He coughed, rubbed his mouth. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I – did I misread…?”
“Yes. You did.” His heart thundered. Safe! He’d protected himself, felt proud; heard, distantly, a harsh laugh. “After all the people you told me about, did you really think I’d be your next plaything?”
Kai blanched, stricken. “Plaything – what?”
“The carpenter, the maid, the cook. Didn’t you mention Etan’s quartermaster? The Cetos’s rigger?”
A deep flush crept back into Kai’s cheeks, and he looked so confused River wanted to punch him. “They – they were just stories. Shit that’s happened to me.”
“Shit you did to people.”
“They were just… stories,” Kai repeated, utterly, stupidly aghast. “Funny stories. No one was that hurt.”
“None of it was funny. It was cruel and you know damn well you hurt people.” River stood, fists clenched, unable to be near him. Kai looked small, staring wide-eyed up at him from the bench.
“You – with you, I was – ”
“Genuine? I’m special, you really like me, you mean it this time?” River scoffed. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Kai shook his head, no, no, no.
“Get out.”
Kai flew into action, shaky hands grabbing his case, packing his violin away, struggling to lock it. Cursing, he pinned it under one arm and clambered off the bench, his face beet-red.
“Stay away from me,” River called as he raced to the door.
“And stay away from Ione. The last thing she needs is someone else trying to use her.” He couldn’t help but throw out one last barb, he didn’t know why, he’d already won.
“The only reason I was hanging around you to begin with was to keep you away from her.”
Kai stopped, one hand on the doorknob, and River braced himself, ready for him to spin around and throw the first punch. But he didn’t. His shoulders rose and fell, deep, ragged breaths.
“You, Ione, Lina,” he murmured, still facing the door. “Yous all disliked me before you even met me, and I guess I haven’t done anything to help that since.” He turned, frigid. “Fine, then. If you think I’m such a bastard, then I will be.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving River alone in the burgeoning twilight. Safe. He had saved himself, of course he had. Would continue to save Ione, to protect her.
However sure he was of it, though, didn’t stop the dull ache low in his gut from watching Kai walk away.