Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
SERIN
Light presses against my eyelids, not the gray haze of before but a steady glow.
It pulses in shades of blue and gold. I blink, and the chamber comes slowly into focus around me.
A flame burns at the center of the room, rising from a shallow basin of obsidian so dark it looks like a hole torn into the world.
The fire moves with a strange, living grace.
Its colors shift in impossible hues of blue-gold, as if it breathes.
It should scorch the air. Yet no heat reaches my skin, only a faint shimmer that makes the air waver above it.
My lungs still ache when I draw breath, a dull burn lingering deep in my chest. The sharp agony from before has faded.
I peer around, taking in the chamber. The stone walls are etched with spirals of serpentine script that curl and coil like frozen motion.
I cannot read the symbols, yet they press in on me with a quiet gravity, as though the words themselves are alive.
This time, my thoughts hold steady. The darkness no longer drags at me.
A rustle of fabric draws my attention to the left.
Curled in a carved wooden chair, Leira buries her nose in what appears to be ancient scrolls.
Her brow furrows in concentration. Loose waves of hair tumble around her shoulders, copper highlights catching the blue-tinged light—details I've never noticed before.
She looks different: harder in some places, softer in others, as if the edges of her have been both honed and worn smooth.
"You're scowling," I whisper, my voice still rough but stronger than before. "You always scowled when reading father's history books."
Her head snaps up, scrolls cascading to the floor as she launches from the chair. "Serin!" In a heartbeat, she's at my side, her trembling hands cradling my face, her storm-gray eyes searching mine with such fierce relief that my chest tightens. "You're back with us. How are you feeling?"
"Like I survived," I whisper, attempting a smile that cracks my parched lips. My voice emerges as sandpaper against stone.
"That’s good to hear." She reaches for a cup on a nearby table and brings it to my lips. "The healers left this for when you woke. It smells like pond scum, but they swore it would work wonders to heal you more rapidly."
The liquid is cool against my throat, bitter and earthy with an aftertaste like mint gone wrong. I grimace but drink deeply, each swallow easing the rasp in my voice.
"Better?" she asks, setting the cup aside.
I nod, taking stock of myself. The countless tiny cuts that had mapped my skin after the ash pit seem mostly healed.
I trace a finger along the fading burns where the shock rod had pressed against my ribs.
The raw rings around my wrists, where metal had bitten into flesh during days of struggling against my chains, have faded to tender pink circles.
My chest still feels heavy, though, as if weights press against my lungs. "How long?"
"Four days since Lurok carried you through the gate." Her voice catches slightly on his name. "You've been drifting in and out, but this is the first time you've been truly coherent."
Four days. The knowledge settles like stone in my stomach. Four days lost while dangers still lurk in shadows. "Vessan-Kar—"
"—still stands," Leira finishes, squeezing my hand. "Thanks to you and Lurok. The evacuation gave everyone time to reach safety, and the Talons found most of the devices."
Oh, that’s right. I remember bits of this conversation from before, fragments caught between periods of darkness, but now my mind can hold onto the information, process it. "The market district?"
"Damaged but salvageable. The stone masters are already rebuilding." She adjusts herself on the edge of my cot, her weight a comforting presence against my side. "The important thing is you're alive. When they told me you fell into an ash pit..."
Her voice breaks, and I see something I've rarely witnessed. Tears gather in my fierce sister's stormy gaze. I squeeze her hand, a role reversal that feels strange yet right. For once, I am comforting her.
"It would take more than toxic ash to keep me from finding you," I say, aiming for lightness but hearing the tremor in my own voice.
Leira brushes a strand of hair from my face, her touch gentle in a way I don't remember from our childhood. "When I took your place as the offering in the treaty exchange, I thought I was protecting you. I never imagined you'd end up in danger.”
I swallow hard, the bitter taste of betrayal coating my tongue.
"Clavenmoor was never the sanctuary we believed in, Leira.
" My fingers twist in the blanket covering my legs.
"Father allied himself with the worms and conspired to destroy Vessan-Kar.
And he knew—" my voice cracks, "he knew you were there and didn't even hesitate. Your life was nothing but acceptable collateral damage to him.”
Leira's eyes harden to flint, her jaw tightening as she traces a finger over my healing wrist. "That doesn't surprise me, Serin. Father has only ever loved one thing in this world. His own ambition. We were never children to him. Just pieces on his political game board."
“Captain Halvane told Father you burned a man to ash by shooting fire from your hands, and Lurok said something about melting locks.”
Her laugh is short, surprised. "News travels fast.”
I pause, watching her expression carefully. "Is it true? Can you really wield fire?”
Leira’s gaze drops to her hands, which she turns palm-up as if examining them for evidence of something extraordinary.
“It’s true,” she says quietly. “Zara told me how to draw from the blood bond I share with Varok. She said I could draw on his flame. Not all of it, just a spark. Enough to use.” Her fingers curl slowly, remembering.
“I followed the bond as she said. I felt the fire inside me. When it came, I used it to melt the locks on the cages. It was Varok’s element, but it answered to me. ”
"What did it feel like?" I ask, unable to look away from her face, transformed by the memory.
"Like finding a limb I never knew was missing," she says after a moment of consideration. "Terrifying and exhilarating all at once. I freed Zara, and Nirik, then Lurok last.”
"And now that you share Varok’s blood, you can wield it too," I breathe, awestruck. My sister is a wielder of elemental fire. The world has transformed beyond recognition in the weeks since we parted.
"Enough about me," Leira says, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of our conversation. "I want to hear how my quiet little sister ended up harboring a wounded naga warrior and trekking through the deadliest wasteland on the continent."
I smile faintly at her deflection, so typical of Leira to redirect attention away from her own extraordinary circumstances.
"It started the night after the human delegation returned without you. Father would not tell me anything that occurred.” I pause, still processing the betrayal of the man who raised us.
"I was worried about you. As days passed, I still knew nothing about your situation, whether you were safe, being treated well.
I thought if I listened in on council meetings and officer reports, hoping I might learn something about your welfare. "
Leira's expression softens. “I always knew you had a gift for moving unseen, Serin. Stealth is your superpower. That's how you knew about the explosives," Leira says, understanding dawning.
I nod. "I overheard him with Captain Halvane. They talked about devices already placed by naga traitors called worms who are working with them. Then at dinner, Father said to initiate plan B and ignite the bombs that were already placed inside Vessan-Kar.”
"We've encountered them.” Leira's expression darkens. “They took me, Zara, and Nirik captive. That’s how I met Lurok.”
“I met him in our garden shed,” I grin at the memory of finding the huge naga stuffed under the potting table. “He told me you melted the locks on the cages and that’s how you escaped the worms.”
"You weren't afraid of him?" Leira asks, incredulous. "The Serin I knew would have run screaming at the sight of a naga warrior.”
"I was terrified at first," I confess. "But also... curious. He was injured and far from home. I saw..." I hesitate, unsure how to express what I'd recognized in those first tense moments. "I saw someone who needed help. Someone who might help me in return.”
"So you just... left? With a naga warrior you barely knew?" Leira's voice rises slightly. "Serin, do you have any idea how dangerous—"
"Of course I knew," I interrupt, surprising us both with my firmness. "But I also knew what would happen if those devices detonated. Hundreds would die, including you.” I meet her gaze steadily. "I had no choice but to try.”
Leira stares at me for a long moment, then shakes her head slowly, a smile tugging at her lips. "When did my little sister get so brave?"
"Perhaps I always was," I say softly. "Just in a different way than you."
She takes my hand again, her palm warm against mine. "Tell me about the journey. How did you end up captured by the TrueCoil?"
I recount our treacherous path through the hidden tunnel beneath our house, how Lurok's strength failed, and I used the cook’s kitchen wagon to drag him through the passage, taking the right tunnel at the fork.
I describe our capture, waking to find myself chained to a wall in a shallow alcove, and no Lurok.
"That's when I met Severa," I continue. "She gave me the key to my shackles and said she owed you a debt for saving Varok when you burned a man to ash.”
"Severa," Leira repeats, her expression unreadable. "Varok's den keeper for decades. I suspected her as my enemy all along, but to be TrueCoil… Varok is devastated. Then what happened?” she prompts. “Lurok has been most vague in his retelling.”