Chapter 25 #2
His shoulders tensed. Given how I’d seen him perform with Maura, even his body lying as if falsehoods were his native tongue, this protectiveness might be another act.
That stung, just a little, and my tone was stinging in turn. “Maura must have been stunned you cared.”
“I don’t want to talk about Maura.”
“Oh? I’m the one she beat near to death. I would think it’s my choice if we discuss her.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” He sounded so calm, as if she had ceased to exist when he banished her.
“How do you know she won’t reveal our plans to everyone?” I asked, and when he gave me a look as if it were a strange question, I added, “She must hate you now. And she has a Bismyth dragon. How will her dragon feel about her being cast out of the clan?”
“She won’t betray us. She wants to earn her way back into our good graces and return to Bismyth.” He seemed amused and it took me a beat to realize he was responding to my use of the words our plans.
I raked my hand through my hair. To my surprise, my fingers slipped through the thick, smooth strands as if through butter, without hitting a snarl, for the first time in my memory. Right. I’d been fixed by the Fae.
Healed. Perfected. But unchanged, on the inside.
“When are you going to make a deal with the Fae?”
“Once I’ve gotten you settled in the clan. I don’t want to risk drawing attention to us first.”
“What if I don’t want to be claimed by your clan?” I demanded. “What if I want to join another clan?”
“Everyone wants to be claimed by Bismyth.” He sounded so confident.
“Is that what Nixi and Maura both wanted?” Pressing him on the subject of the twins was pressing a bruise, I could tell. Maybe even a scab. But I couldn’t resist the impulse.
“Do you want to join Ander’s clan?” He looked as if he meant to sound disinterested.
I studied his face, trying to understand the facets of this trial and its aftermath. “You know I’ll make a poor showing. Are you going to claim me first anyway?”
He scoffed. “Maybe I won’t claim you at all.”
Well. He was pouting at the vision of me at Ander’s side, and I guarded my smile. “I know you have a plan for me, Fieran. There’s no point in pretending you don’t.”
“My plan is to keep you alive.” Under his breath, he added, “So you can be as big a pain in the ass to our enemies as you are to me.”
“Will it make you look stupid if you claim me after I get knocked unconscious like I did with Maura?” I mused.
“Maybe I’ll leave you for last,” he said grimly. “I doubt I’ll have to fight anyone else for you. No one needs the hassle of a mouthy mortal.”
“I bet Ander would claim me if I asked him.”
He gave me a look that was half amused, as if something had given me away. “If that’s what you want, Cara.”
He knew it wasn’t. It was my turn to be irritated.
“Welcome to my home,” he told me, leading me to a gate in a long, marble wall. The marble shimmered faintly, veins of gold and silver running through its surface like captured lightning.
The gate swung open for us as we approached it.
We stepped into an enormous green courtyard—large enough for dragons to land—and in the distance was a house so large it might as well have been a castle.
My heart quickened. We walked beneath the arms of spreading trees, petals fluttering down that landed in Fieran’s dark hair and on the shoulders of his tunic, but I barely saw any of it.
Now that I was so close to my brother, I couldn’t shake the fear that he was lying to me, that Tay wasn’t here, that he was gone.
I couldn’t breathe.
Elaborately carved doors opened on their own accord as Fieran and I climbed the marble steps.
“He’s in here,” Fieran told me, guiding me past arched windows with elaborate stained glass patterns, through a door that led into a massive library.
When he pushed the door open, Tay looked pale and wan and was sleeping. I rushed into him, expecting him to wake, but he didn’t stir. For a second, I thought he was dead after all.
I put my hand on his chest and felt its slight rise and fall. My breath released in a stutter. He looked so small in the grand four-poster bed, and I glanced around, trying to make sense of the room—a study that Fieran seemed to have repurposed.
There was an enormous fireplace, and the room was warm and cozy. A long table nearby seemed to have been turned into a temporary apothecary, covered with various potions and medicines in bottles.
“It’s going to be all right, Cara. I’m going to make sure your brother is well and goes home to Lidi and your mother.” He sounded so confident, so sure of himself. “Until I can arrange a deal with the Fae, he’s in the healing sleep. Totally safe.”
He sounded so sure that I could almost believe him.
I turned toward him. Of course, that meant I was looking at his chest. He was dressed for training, his close-fitting shirt that revealed the powerful lines of his chest and the narrow taper of his waist.
When I raised my gaze to his, he was looking down at me with something soft in those golden eyes. Sympathy, maybe. I raised my chin, feeling myself shutter.
I needed his help, but I hated his pity.
“Trust me, Cara,” he told me quietly. “For your sake, I’ll take care of Tay just as I’d take care of Dairen or Asrael.”
“Thank you,” I said the words woodenly. I wanted to say I didn’t trust him. I wanted to claw that quiet confidence off his face. But instead, I nodded. Because I needed him. And that made me hate myself just a little more.
He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else, then simply inclined his head. “I’ll leave you with him.”
When he left, the door shut softly, sealing me into the hush of the room.
The air smelled faintly of herbs. Candlelight flickered across the walls, and shadows swayed over Tay’s still face.
I sank into the chair beside his bed, tears burning in my vision, and I blinked them away so I could study his face. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. If that means facing the Trials, I’ll find a way to be brave.”
I took his hand in mine. His skin was cool, too cool, and the chill seeped through my skin. I laid his hand back down gently, afraid to touch him again, and pulled the blanket carefully up to his thin shoulders.
The silence pressed in, thick and aching. Somewhere beyond the marble walls, the sea struck the cliffs in an irregular rhythm, like a heartbeat that wasn’t quite right anymore.
I stayed beside him for a long time, watching the fragile flutter and fall of his chest.