35
Raiden
I’m telling your father!” Sirona screamed as Raiden ushered her into the small room above the infirmary. A far-too cosy setting, with dark furnishings and chunky furniture. A small growl erupted from him as Sirona spun in the centre of the room, flicking her flaxen hair over her shoulders.
“You’ll do no such thing,” he chastised.
“No?” Sirona folded her arms, her deep eyes narrowing. “She’s a freak. No one can possess more than one faction. No one can bring someone back from the dead.”
Raiden’s jaw ticked. He was sure he was part illusion, his ability to speak into minds was unnatural for an elemental. Even illusions couldn’t do that, but they could manipulate someone’s mind, distort their reality and thoughts.
“No, Sirona,” Raiden spoke firmly. “He’ll see her as a threat and kill her. No one’s ever been more powerful than Zephyr.” Even Raiden’s abilities dwarfed in the presence of his father’s.
Sirona raised her pointed chin. “It’s unnatural to interfere with the gods. She’s taken from Thanos’ realm, and there will be repercussions.”
Kora had been to Umbra and returned. It’d never happened before. Had she somehow brought a piece of Death back with her?
“I’ll deal with it,” Raiden gritted out. “Promise you’ll keep this quiet.”
“What’s in it for me?” Sirona’s eyes sparkled as she glided forward. “What do I get?”
Raiden huffed. “My respect, for once.”
Her gaze darkened. “How about one more night?” She approached, her hips swishing. “One more hot, sweaty, passionate night.” Sirona placed her fingertips on Raiden’s chest, tilting her face up. “Admit that we were good together.”
Raiden shrugged. “Wasn’t memorable to me.”
Sirona gasped. “You lie! You were all over me, wanting me—”
“Sirona, stop. Why are you doing this? You stayed with Chiron years after that night. We both agreed it was just one night. One night to forget the horrors, to escape the darkness. One night in the arms of who I thought was a friend.”
Sirona stopped short, her mouth parting. “You thought we were friends?”
Raiden tipped his head back. “Yes! Those nights in the bar were some of my favourites during the darkest years of the Mist. I regret that we took it one step further than we should’ve. That we lost whatever friendship we’d been building.”
Sirona’s dark eyes blinked, and she placed a hand over her mouth. “Rai, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s the past.”
“No, listen, please. I’m sorry. This is all Skylar and Cassidy’s doing.
They asked me to trick you back into bed now Kora is here.
They hoped it would distract you from her.
Please, don’t hate me. Since Chiron left me I .
. .” Sirona dipped her head in shame. “I’ve felt more alone than I ever have. ”
Raiden froze. Anger simmered, not directed at Sirona, but at his sister for meddling. At her desire to keep Kora as far away from their family as possible. “Skylar and Cassidy,” he repeated coldly.
“Yes, but please don’t be mad, Rai!” Sirona shuffled closer. “We’re all worried about you, about her. That she’s clouding your judgement, that you can’t see the threat she still poses.”
“She’s not a threat, Sirona. You all see her as an enemy.”
“Because she is! Rai, she just brought someone back from the dead! That’s not normal. What if Barron already knows about this? What if he’s primed her into a new magical weapon and sent her directly into your arms?” Sirona’s voice raised an octave.
Raiden shook his head, his beliefs unwavering. “No. You didn’t see her at Mossfell. You haven’t been inside her mind like I have. We need to help her.”
“You know she’s not Kordelia, right?” Sirona’s pitiful stare sickened him.
For once, the years of hope of reuniting with Kordelia didn’t smother Raiden.
He no longer felt the pressing need to free her, to bring her back.
Instead, an intense curiosity possessed him about Kora.
She was unique, and completely opposite to Kordelia.
Her beauty shone within, and her loyalty and determination sang to his soul.
“Kordelia’s gone,” Raiden sighed. “You know just as well as I that what remains is dark magic. Just don’t tell anyone, Sirona. There’s something . . . different with Kora. Something we need to be careful about. Please, trust that I know what I’m doing.”
Sirona quietened, her fingertips drumming against her thighs before answering. “One drink at the Lagoon with me, and I won’t say anything. For old times’ sake.”
“One drink?” Raiden’s lips quirked. If that’s all she wanted, he could do that. “Fine. Just stop listening to my sister’s whims.”
“Duly noted,” Sirona smiled.
Raiden nodded and, as he turned to leave, a wave of terror hit him square in the chest. He doubled over, knocking into the doorframe as Sirona rushed to him.
“Rai! What’s wrong?”
He sucked in deep breaths and his body violently shook, goosebumps raising his flesh. He was frozen, like he’d been submerged into northern waters. Haizea, save him. Sirona’s hands swept over him, methodical as she checked his heart rate and forehead.
“You’re burning up, what’s going on?”
Deep in his mind, a scream. Followed by a cold laugh. His gut twisted at the familiar tone, and the burning line that’d been strengthening in the void went dark, submerged in tar.
“Follow me,” he rumbled, his power exploding into the castle. Tapestries and paintings rattled on the walls as his magic frantically searched for Kora. Sirona followed Raiden as he raced down halls on the lower levels, her speed impressive as he led them back to the main foyer.
He couldn’t find her. His tether to Kora was so dim, it’d nearly vanished. Panic gripped him in a vice, and Sirona gently placed a hand on his back as he panted between the ballroom and the arena.
“Rai, you need to sit down. You’re freakishly hot, and not in a good way.”
Ignoring Sirona, Raiden leapt as his magic beckoned him up the stairs. Sirona wheezed behind him now, tying her long locks up into a bun as he fled down the west wing hallways, his magic screaming at him that it’d found her.
Raiden burst into Kora’s chamber, his mind frantic at the quiet of the void, his heart thundering. Kora lay crumpled within Aryn’s arms at the base of the mezzanine, her cheeks stained black.
“What happened?” Raiden strode towards them, wary of how Aryn’s fingers matched his eyes as he gently stroked Kora’s hair.
“We need Sirona,” Aryn spoke hoarsely. “And Altha. Something’s wrong inside.” Kora moaned gently, and Raiden’s heart leapt as he knelt by her side.
“I’m here.” Sirona followed Raiden, her face neutral as she studied Kora. “Altha is tending to Erick. Tell me everything.”
Raiden flashed a glare towards Sirona and she rolled her eyes. “I’m a healer first and foremost, Rai. I may not trust her, but someone’s life and their health will always be of importance to me.”
Sirona’s uniformed beige skirts billowed onto the hardwood floors as Aryn gently turned Kora in his arms. Raiden’s fists clenched at the black tears. Signs of Barron’s magic, his hold still lingering over her.
“We were talking, and suddenly she panicked. I thought she’d been screaming at me to stop but maybe . . . I think it was to within. I could sense something dark, something connected to her scar taunting her.” The way Aryn said talking had Raiden raising a brow. “Kora said she is here.”
They all fell silent at the last part.
Sirona nodded curtly, and breathed deeply before pressing two fingers to Kora’s scar and closing her eyes.
As an illusion, Sirona used her gift of the mind to assess patients’ mental states and gather intel on their illnesses.
Most healers were illusions, less powerful ones at that, but they’d once had plenty of divines, before they’d become scarce after the Staghart’s slaughter.
Her eyes flew open with a gasp, the faintest glow fading from her pupils, and she snatched her fingers back. “Her fugue state is crumbling. Kordelia is growing stronger.”
“What? No. That can’t be right. She was getting stronger.” The desire to reach out and comfort Kora overwhelmed Raiden. To trace her jaw, brush the ends of her silken hair, to feel her heart beat strong.
Sirona’s face fell. “No, Kordelia is somehow breaking through on her own. I . . . I don’t know what to do.”
“Her essence is weak,” Raiden guessed. “I need to train her power so she can fight back.”
“Rai . . .” Sirona swallowed as she shared a grave look with Aryn.
“My medical assessment was a speculation at most. My power isn’t extensive.
Medicine is about deduction, it’s asking all the questions until you reach the final answer.
Maybe this is a new sign, a new symptom that Kordelia lives on within. ”
“I’ve told you both before,” Raiden flexed his hands to release a modicum of tension. “It’s not Kordelia, it’s Barron. His magic is using what’s left of her, and if it comes back, it’ll be the end of us all. A darkness so deep, that we won’t survive.”
“How do you know?” Skylar’s voice appeared in the entrance to Kora’s room and they all jolted, except Aryn, who curled around Kora tighter. Raiden withheld his disdain. He didn’t have the time to chastise Skylar right now on using Sirona against him.
“How do you know it’s not her? How do you know it’s Barron’s magic?” Skylar pushed, entering the room. Silver brimmed her eyes, a rare display of emotion from Raiden’s sister. Her hair was unbound, and she was dressed casually in a brown shirt tucked into a long chromatic skirt.
“As I said, I’ve seen in her mind. Barron’s magic has decayed her past, and whatever’s left is corrupted, like a disease. The longer she stays in the light of who she is, the more that disease fades away.” Raiden’s jaw clenched as Skylar knelt beside him, studying Kora’s face.
“And the tears,” Aryn added. “We saw these tears in Mossfell when Barron’s magic bound itself to her. If she has these tears now, then it means his magic is still entwined with hers.”
“She never said anything,” Raiden said. “Did she say anything to you?” Aryn shook his head in response.