Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Jai has other places to be.”
Well, that was… fucking strange. What’s going on here? I certainly don’t tend to refer to myself in the third person, and so far, neither has he.
“Rae, believe me, I’m trying to control him. The other soul I carry in me.”
Could that be true? Or is it an elaborate joke? Is he pulling my leg, thinking he’s being funny?
He didn’t look amused, I think, as I finally make my way to my room. Didn’t look well, either, with that sickly pallor back in his handsome face and the blood trickling from his nose…
It’s just blood. Just a nosebleed. Many people get them. It means nothing.
And I have places to be, too.
Despite my weariness, I stay awake. Curled up in bed, I stare into the small flame of the oil lamp set on the desk until I’m sure the palace is asleep. Then I throw my covers off and get up. I have some breaking and entering to do, and a king to find and kill.
This is the final piece, the last part of the mission. If I don’t survive, that’s fine. That was always going to be the outcome, no matter what. Besides… “Get the job done and worry about the after thereafter, maikosa,” as my mother used to say.
Gods, I miss her. And this isn’t what I need right now, this remembered pain, the ever-present pain of my family’s absence.
Dressed once more in my gray spidersilk dress and a pair of gray flats that don’t hurt my feet, gathering my long hair in a knot at the back of my head, I deem I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
Somewhere inside the palace, a clock chimes midnight.
Perfect.
It’s quiet outside the room. Whatever other celebrations took place after the banquet, if any, are done and over with.
Did they drink wine and dance, or mingle and go to present themselves to their king after the shadow circus? I wonder.
That show was obviously not what the king had in mind when he ordered Jai to display his shadows.
Was I wrong? Did Jai do it on purpose, or did he really lose control of his power?
But why? Why?
That seems to be the word of the day. The theme of the century.
Turning the handle, I crack the door open. Nobody is standing outside, and heaving a quiet sigh of relief I tiptoe through, pulling the door closed behind me.
“Going somewhere?” a male voice asks, and I almost jump out of my skin.
By all the Sleeping Gods. Tru. He was standing by my door. Guarding me.
Of course. And I refuse to face the disappointment tearing through me at finding Tru and not Jai outside.
I’m going for a walk. I mime walking, then lift a forbidding hand. Stay here.
“I’m going wherever you’re going,” he says, stepping closer.
I push at him. No. I want to walk alone.
“There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight,” Tru says. “Arkin got an earful when he lost you earlier today.”
Damn . How can I distract Tru? With Arkin, I’d only need to find him another girl, but with Tru… I have no idea what is on his mind.
He doesn’t give me any time to think, opening the door of my room. “Please, return to your bed, my lady.”
And if not? I glare at him. Am I a prisoner now?
“I don’t want to use force.” His jaw clenches. “But don’t think I’m above it.”
I keep glaring as I make my way back inside, kicking off my shoes and sinking down on the edge of my bed.
He follows me inside and all across the room to check that the window is closed. What does he think, that I’ll climb out and wander along the ledge or something? I’m not suicidal.
Well, not much.
He folds his muscular arms over his chest, turning to face me. “Stop glaring at me like that. My hair will catch on fire.”
I hope it will. He just mentioned using force on me. Did he think I’d thank him for it?
“Why don’t we talk?” he goes on.
I snort, a very un-lady-like sound.
He turns to my small desk and opens a panel, pulling out… an inkwell, a plume, and a stack of paper. “Here. If it will help you settle down.”
These items had been here all along? Now I want to laugh. I’m feeling a little hysterical. It’s been a long couple of days.
Getting back up, I brush past him to go and sit at the small desk. I catch a whiff of his scent—lighter than Jai’s, saltier—and it does absolutely nothing for me.
I consider that as I sit down and open the inkwell, then take the plume and dip the tip in it. What is it about Jai that grabs me by the neck and won’t let go?
Is it infatuation? Am I drawn to mysterious men with shadows and dragons, men who are ambiguous and antithetical, inconsistent and annoying?
Probably.
I shouldn’t be thinking of Jai right now, though. Here I am with the means to express my questions and a man who may have the answers.
Of course, I’ll need to be careful, think about how to phrase what I need to ask, what I need to know.
But instead of any other question I could have penned, I look down, and I find I’ve written this:
‘Who is Jaien?’
The look Tru casts me is dark. He seems so outraged it’s funny. “He told you his name?”
I sit back and gaze steadily at him. I know names are important, I, of all people, should know that. Sea magic has to do with voice and music and naming, hence the loss of my voice to the spell.
But among humans and the fae, names are just names. Is he upset because he thought that, except for Arkin and himself, everyone else has to use the title Athdara ?
When he says nothing, standing there looking absurdly incensed, I lift the paper and shake it at him, the ink running and smudging the letters.
‘Who is Jaien?’
He swallows hard. “He’s… a friend.”
I shake my head incredulously. Yeah, right.
“He is,” Tru insists. “He has saved my life many times.”
Sounds like something Jai might do, I think.
“I know he’s abrasive sometimes.” At my breathless laugh, he gives a rueful smile. “That he’s vitriolic. Cruel. Violent. I know. But he has this other, kind side. You’ve seen it. I know you have.”
My shoulders slump. I have, though I try not to recall it because it confuses the hells out of me. I wave the paper at him again.
“What do you want me to say?” Tru chews on the inside of his cheek. “Nobody really knows who he is. His majesty Anax Rouen has said that he heard rumors about him, about a human boy calling down a dragon. He went to investigate the claims and decided to bring him back with him. The rest is history.”
I sigh. That’s kind of old news.
“There are those who wonder if he’s a fae lady’s unwanted bastard, manifesting the magic and not the physical traits. Yet again, his magic is unlike anything we’ve seen in a long time.” When I stare at him, Tru shrugs. “Our old homeland chronicles claim that a long time ago, the hero Cadmus had also controlled shadows, serpents, and dragons. But it’s a myth. We’ve never seen anyone like Athdara before, and yet here he is.”
But the king—? I start writing, and he lifts a hand.
“Yes, he receives his orders from the king and executes them. If you’re asking why he would obey the king, work as his army commander, rounding up humans and torching villages, capturing the human sacrifices…?”
I tap the side of my head.
“Because he’s crazy.” Tru gives a short chuckle, his brows knitting. “Perhaps, perhaps…”
But no, Tru doesn’t believe that, does he? He doesn’t believe Jai is crazy. Which begs the question…
So I write, ‘Why does he obey the king?’
Tru actually glances at the door, as if afraid someone can hear what I wrote . Now who’s the crazy one? “They have… an agreement.”
Agreement. Pressing my lips together, I try to piece together the scattered clues.
I write down, ‘Who is Phaethon?’
I lift my piece of paper triumphantly. The ink is running without any blotting paper to dry it, but the words are legible.
They have to be, because he blanches, face going as white as the bleached whale bones washed out on a beach. “Where did you…?” He seems to collect himself, giving his head a little shake. “I should leave you to rest. It’s late.”
No. No, he won’t leave me hanging like this, not after botching my nighttime operation. Pushing the chair back, I surge to my feet and grab his sleeve just as he turns to go and tug. Yank on it. Then I point at my piece of paper, abandoned on the desk.
Tell me , I mouth.
He glances down where I’m clutching his uniform sleeve, my hand small and white against the dark velvet, and his eyes narrow. “You should forget about that.”
Yeah right, like that will happen. I yank again, injecting as much death as I can into my glare. Tell. Me.
A sigh escapes him. He casts the door another longing look, then turns back to face me. “Phaethon’s story is from another world.”
What world? I wave my hand to keep him talking. Well?
“Our world. The one we came from.”
I stare at him. I tug again on his sleeve. Tug, tug, tug.
“Phaethon was a great Eosphor.” Tru sounds resigned. “Some say the greatest of all. His story was old when our world was still young. He was trapped on the firmament with his faithful followers for centuries, if not millennia, living in the ruins of previous Reversals, lighting up the night sky. But he managed to take possession of a human king’s mind, using him as a puppet to wreak war and destruction in his attempt to rule the world, regardless of his imprisonment.”
Yank, yank. And then?
“The king went crazy.”
I swallow hard. Sounds familiar.
“The Eosphors broke loose, and there was war on the ground. The dragons in our world can’t fly, they are great legless wyrms, but they fought against the Eosphors and won. Nobody knows what happened to Phaethon after that battle. And as for Athdara… Jai. He didn’t mention the name until recently.”
I make a questioning gesture.
Tru huffs out a breath. “He said… said that Phaethon is inside his mind, trying to control him.”
“I’m trying to control him.” Jai’s words echo in my mind.
My hands shaking, I grab my paper and jot down, ‘You don’t believe him?’
“I believe… that his mind may play tricks on him. He loved a woman once, but she died, and losing your loved ones can fuck you up. You can lose track of what’s real. Then there’s his power…” Tru swallows hard, the knot in his throat bobbing. “Whoever wields great power is at risk of losing his mind.”
So now you do think he’s crazy. I stab at the paper, then at him. Huh?
“It could be a hallucination, a story his mind made up,” Tru says, “though the telchin has called him Two-souled. What do I know?”
I remember that now. Two-souled…
Tru rubs at his chest. “He’s not crazy, Rae. But he’s not well, either. He’s a creature of shadows, and that power is born of grief and death. It’s darkness, and darkness corrupts and destroys whatever it touches. He knows that, so he avoids touch. Avoids people. He’s… lonely sometimes because he would never hurt those around him, at the detriment of his own happiness, and…” Regret glints in Tru’s hazel eyes. “Look, I’ve told you too much. Go to sleep, you will need your rest for the days to come.”
I bite my lip and grab the plume again. I have more questions. So many questions.
“No more.” He starts for the door, opens it. Then he stops. “And don’t try to break out again. It won’t work. I’ll be right outside to catch you.”
I give him my little finger in salute.
His jaw clenches. He turns his head slightly. “Did anyone tell you what happened when you stepped out of the dragon’s mouth after the first trial?”
I shake my head.
“You dropped to your knees and fell senseless to the ground. Jai was the one who scooped you up and carried you inside the palace, demanding a healer, the best healer, demanding that they examine you immediately and administer the antidote for the venom. The man who avoids touch, who avoids other people, made it his mission to save you.”
He did?
“Make of that what you will. Good night, Rae.” With another sigh, Tru steps outside and closes the door.
Leaving me alone with my circling thoughts.