Chapter Fifteen Caspia
Fifteen
Caspia
A woman with wild orange, red, copper, and caramel curls sits alone in the dark.
Her hair is the same as mine. As Saskia’s.
As Emery’s.
Her feet are bare. Her clothes are in tatters. The stone floor beneath her is cold and wet. She rests her head against iron bars as she prays to the Divine.
But she is not alone.
In the cell beside hers is a man with light hair, his clothes as dirty and soiled as her own. He is too thin. They both are.
The man grunts as he points to a dark hall. Someone has cut off his tongue so he cannot speak.
She shakes her head and reaches through the bars, taking his hands in hers. Where there once were five fingers on his right hand, only three remain. Blood still seeps from the stump where the last was severed.
She will not leave him until the Divine has called him home. She cannot shift with a child growing in her womb.
She hasn’t decided if she’ll tell the man yet. Or if she’ll let that secret follow her to Gloree.
And so she sits in the dark, praying for their lives. Praying for death.
Until the enemy drags her off the stone floor for another experiment.
When they strap her to the table, when they slice open her wrist to steal the gifted blood in her veins, she doesn’t even bother to fight.
…
I woke to a scream—my own.
Pushing up off my pillow, kicking loose the blanket tangled around my legs, I wrapped my arms around my knees and closed my eyes, breathing through my nose.
A dream. It was only a dream.
I couldn’t bear the thought that it was real. That before Emery had been killed by that silver-eyed warrior, she’d suffered, not only the loss of Max, but of a daughter.
I refused to believe that vision was real.
My throat was on fire, my heart racing. As much as I wanted to curl up in bed and go back to sle—
I gasped.
A bed. I was on a bed.
My eyes flew open, and for a single heartbeat, I was sure that I’d see my room. That I’d be in Showe and everything that I’d experienced since leaving Nelfinex would be no more than an awful dream.
Except I wasn’t in my room. And this was not my bed.
The heartbreak was instant. A cry tore from my lips as I closed my eyes again, not wanting to face this new reality.
Xandra. The black beasts. She was one of them now.
And she’d tried to kill me.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep another sob from escaping.
The last thing I remembered was falling. Then…nothing.
Was this Gloree? Would I walk out of this room and into the open arms of the Divine, finding him waiting to welcome me to an eternal paradise?
But I wasn’t ready to be a part of the afterlife. I hadn’t avenged my sister. I hadn’t completed my ritus. And now, I had to save Xandra.
As much as I wanted to give in to the anguish and grief, I was on a bed that was not my own, so I forced my eyes open and swung my legs to the floor.
The wooden boards were cold as I eased to my feet, testing my ankle. It was tender, and the moment I gave it my weight, a sharp pain shot through my calf, sending me back to a seat.
“Vexx,” I hissed, lifting it up to see my skin mottled with purple and blue.
Blue, like the color of my pants.
I gasped and took in my wardrobe. A blue shirt, much too large, with sleeves that draped past my fingertips. Pants equally as loose and long but cinched at my waist with a cord.
Someone must have found me in the river. They must have brought me here and changed me out of my wet clothes. Who? How long had I been asleep?
A shiver raced down my spine as I pushed myself up again, this time careful to keep off my sore ankle.
Was it Xandra who’d brought me here? Had she shifted back and come to my rescue?
“Xandra?” My voice was hoarse and weak.
The room was practically empty, with only a narrow bed pushed against the wall. There were no windows, only walls made out of beige stones and held together by plaster of the same shade. The yellow hue reminded me of the cave Xandra and I had stayed in our first moon.
I limped to the door, then twisted the knob to ease it open.
The room beyond was bigger than the bedroom, though still small and crowded.
There was a round table with two wooden chairs.
A kitchen held a washbasin and a few narrow cupboards.
A small stack of clay dishes rested on a shelf.
In the corner was a leather cushioned chair with a pillow and blanket folded on its seat.
The footstool was tucked neatly beside a fireplace.
Whoever lived here must have given me the bed while they slept in that chair.
“Hello?” I stepped deeper into the room, peering out a square window.
The forest outside appeared to be the same one I’d trekked through with Xandra. The green wasn’t as offensive now that my head wasn’t spinning and my skin wasn’t on fire.
It was almost…lovely. Almost. That vivid, verdant color was tainted from the sickness and Xandra’s shift. Now, that color made me heartsick.
Where was my cousin? Was she alive? Had she survived the rite?
There was only one way to find out.
Where were my boots? My clothes? I was about to retreat to the bedroom and make sure I hadn’t overlooked something when footsteps outside made me freeze.
My hand went to my hip where I usually carried a blade. Where were my weapons? My eyes stayed locked on the door as my entire body began to shake.
I wanted—needed—it to be Xandra. But something in my heart said I was going to be disappointed.
The knob rattled, and the door swung open. A man with sandy hair stepped into the room. He was dressed in brown leather pants, and his shirt was a rich greenish blue. It was the color of the dragonflies that flittered around the palace in Showe.
He was tall enough that he had to duck to clear the threshold. His broad, muscled physique reminded me of Cap, but this man’s wavy hair was much shorter.
The moment he spotted me, his tawny eyes went wide and he lifted his hands like he was trying to tame a wild beast. When he spoke, it was in a language I didn’t understand. His voice was gentle and soothing, but it did nothing to quell the fear.
I was trapped in a house, alone with a man I did not know, on a continent across the world from my home. And even if I escaped this room, where would I go?
I had nothing, not even my shoes.
The man kept speaking, his voice low and calm, but whatever he was trying to communicate, I hadn’t a clue what language he was using.
I shook my head, backing away until my shoulders hit the wall. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at this stranger, his mouth still moving. He kept talking and talking, the words crashing on me like stones, until I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Stop.”
He blinked, mouth snapping closed. Then he lowered his hands and studied me, eyes narrowing as he cocked his head to the side. “Stelvi’op?”
Stop. Stelvi’op meant stop. It wasn’t Nelfinex, not exactly. It was more closely aligned to a dialect from Beesa. But it was familiar.
I’d said stop.
And he’d understood me enough to say it back.
Hope that I might find a way to understand this man soared.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He pondered my words as he ran a hand over the stubble dusting his chiseled jaw. It looked like he was replaying my question in his head, shuffling the words into something he could interpret. Then he gave me a single nod and touched a hand to his heart. “Andreas.”
“An-dre-as,” I repeated, enunciating each syllable.
He nodded.
I mimicked his gesture and placed a hand on my heart. “Caspia.”
“Caspia.”
A shiver, involuntary and not at all unpleasant, ran down my back at the sound of my name in his thick accent and rugged voice.
Andreas held up a finger and went to the kitchen, where he bent to open a cupboard. He lifted out a stack of neatly folded clothes and a pair of boots.
My boots. My clothes.
When he brought them over, he stretched his arms long, keeping as much space between us as possible.
The moment I had my things clutched to my chest, he lifted his hands again and backed away, like he knew I was scared.
I dipped my chin in a silent thanks, then hurried into the bedroom, never turning my back on Andreas as I closed myself inside.
There wasn’t a lock, so I changed with one hand, keeping the other on the door itself as I stripped out of the oversized shirt and pants, swapping them for clothes of my own.
When I went to pull on a boot, there was something inside. I tipped it upside down, letting my necklace and ten elfalter rings drop into my palm. In the other boot were two knives that had survived the river.
With my pack gone, lost on that forest road, these pieces were all I had left. My only remnants of home.
I clutched the necklace in my fist, breathing through another wave of pain.
Then I straightened my spine and fastened it around my neck, tucking it beneath my vest. After slipping the rings in a pocket and strapping on my blades, I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders, flipping its hood over my unbound hair.
Without my pack, I felt underdressed and unprepared to leave this home, but I raised my chin and opened the door.
Andreas was in the kitchen, carrying two bowls to the table. He nodded at one chair while he sat in the other, its legs scraping across the floor. He plucked a berry from his bowl and popped it into his mouth, his jaw flexing as he chewed.
My stomach growled so loudly the noise filled the room.
His eyes softened as he pointed to the empty chair.
The food was too tempting to ignore, so I took the seat, unsheathing a knife and setting it on the table as a warning.
He chuckled, the deep vibration like tingles on my skin.
I sat across from him, chair as far away from the table as it would allow, and silently ate berries, nuts, and seeds.
Andreas mostly focused on his own meal, but from time to time, he’d glance up. An amber starburst mingled with the tawny striations in his eyes. The flecks were so bright a yellow, his eyes seemed to glow.
I’d never seen eyes like that before. They were as striking and mesmerizing as they were unsettling. They were another reminder that I was far, far away from home. A reminder that stole my appetite.
I pushed the bowl aside and dipped my chin in a silent thanks. But when I moved to stand, he held up a hand and gave me a pleading look. I sighed and sank into the seat.
Andreas set his own bowl aside, wiped his hands on his pants, and leaned his elbows on the table. He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he was struggling with what to say.
So was I.
There were so many questions to ask, but I wasn’t sure where to even begin.
Which left us both speechless, staring at one another.
He had angular, handsome features. The symmetry of his face, from his square jaw to his full lips to the straight bridge of his nose to the strong line of his brow, made him arguably the most arresting man I’d ever seen.
Something about him felt familiar, yet I would have remembered his face from a vision.
Maybe Andreas had visited me in a dream.
“Elvi’old lelvi’ang-gelfwij,” he said, breaking the silence. “Old language.”
The first two words were spoken in the Beesan dialect I recognized. The second pair must have been his attempt to translate into his own tongue. So I did what he had earlier and repeated them back—or tried. “Old lan-uge.”
“Language.”
“Lan-guage.”
“Yes.” The corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned. His eyes crinkled at the sides, and my belly fluttered.
Vexx. This was not the time to be enthralled with a man. The sooner I left this house, the better, even if I had nowhere to go.
The call of the ritus had faded since the Cirrina. I hadn’t felt the thrum since we came ashore. I wasn’t ready to accept that my rite had failed.
Which left me with only one choice.
To avenge Emery. To find Xandra.
If nothing else, this journey could at least secure justice for my sister’s death. And if I found Xandra, at least she could fly me home.
Which meant it was time to find the silver-eyed warrior. For that, I would need to learn the language of this land.
“What is this continent?” I asked Andreas.
It took him a moment to parse my question.
“Calandra.”