Seven
Zidra
To my relief, Kyrundar didn’t need to touch me to use his magic to transport both of us. We stood on separate floating slabs of ice. Kyrundar moved both slabs at the same pace without requiring that we so much as hold hands. His magic propelled us far faster than I could have run, and I would have tired long before I reached Grivolen.
I refused to acknowledge this, however. Everything that had gone wrong, including our needing to return to the ruins at all, was his fault, and I was not ready to forgive him.
I would eventually. But Kyrundar had turned the best day of my life into the worst day, and I was having difficulty releasing my anger.
When we arrived, we lit a lantern Kyrundar had “borrowed” from Merael’s and retraced our steps. The stench assaulted my nose again. Dead grasses rustled in the breeze, and small creatures skittered in the shadows of the ruins.
How had I missed that this was a trap? No, not missed. I’d ignored the warning signs, too eager for a distraction from the debacle of the Emperor’s Merit ceremony. Even before that, I had wanted to prove I was right about Magistrate Nevros’s death, so I’d followed a lead I shouldn’t have.
Fine, Kyrundar didn’t deserve all the blame. But if he hadn’t intruded, maybe my mind would have been clearer, and I wouldn’t have gone into that hole.
This time, I paused at the entrance to the cellar to determine what might await us inside. I detected the tang of drying blood but didn’t smell anything else, nor did I hear anyone. I decided not to shift my eyes and risk affecting the ice magic.
Kyrundar held out his hands, and tendrils of minuscule glittering ice crystals swirled through the opening and into the cellar. “Hm.”
“What?”
“I don’t sense the corpses.”
“I’m sorry; what ?”
He shrugged. “They should still be warm enough my magic could sense them, but I don’t. I don’t sense anyone living, either, or any latent magic.” With that, he leaped down. He always had to be first.
I massaged my temples and followed.
Sure enough, no one was there—not even the bodies. I retrieved my sword, and some of the strain in my shoulders relaxed. “There you are, gorgeous,” I whispered while I dug a cloth out of my hip pouch. “I didn’t mean to abandon you.”
Kyrundar huffed. “And I didn’t even get a hello.”
I ignored him and cleaned the blood and dirt off the etched blade. With my weapon back where it belonged in the scabbard at my side, I stood and scowled at the cellar.
“Are you certain you killed the ice elf?”
He winced. “Yes.”
I turned in a circle. “And I’m sure I killed the metalmage and the shifter. Someone took them? Already? How long was I unconscious?”
“Not long. You woke up shortly after I laid you on the bed at Merael’s.”
Why did he have to phrase it like that ? I wrinkled my nose but moved on, as I didn’t care to think about Kyrundar carrying my unconscious body through Laedresh.
“Whoever took them must have been fairly close.”
I nodded. As much as I wanted to gripe about having no corpses to inspect, if he hadn’t taken me to Merael’s and waited for me to awaken, whoever retrieved the bodies might have arrived while I was still unconscious. Perhaps Kyrundar would have handled them as well, but what if there had been too many or he’d been too weakened from helping me? At least we were both alive.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s see if they dropped anything.”
Kyrundar’s face twisted. “I’m sure there’s a lot of refuse and forgotten items down here. How will we even know if it was theirs?”
“Maybe it will be obvious,” I grumbled, already inspecting the dirt around my feet. Searching was probably futile, but I didn’t want to accept another defeat without even trying.
Several minutes of searching turned up nothing of use. I nibbled on my lower lip and surveyed the cellar, as if an answer might be etched into one of the dirt walls.
Kyrundar cleared his throat. “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything, Zee. We should leave in case whoever took the bodies returns.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know.” He tossed up his free hand, and the lantern juddered in his grip. “They could have someone watching the ruins in case we returned.”
That nearly tempted me to stay, but the strain on my body from my wound and all the cold magic I had endured had caught up to me. I needed to rest more than I needed to wait in putrid ruins for someone who might not appear. If I tried to stay, Kyrundar would probably point out that I couldn’t shift and my arm was injured. I was ambidextrous, but for someone who usually fought two-handed, still not ideal.
I led the way to the exit. For now, I would return to the Haven and consider what I knew and what to do next.
Kyrundar trailed me out of the cellar and walked at my side back through Castle Grivolen. When we emerged from the ruins, he turned to me.
“To West Quarter Haven, then?”
“No need for you to go out of your way.” I’d rather not be seen flying through Laedresh with him any more than necessary. “You can leave me at the gate. I can walk the rest of the way. ”
He opened and closed his mouth. “Are you sure you don’t want to rethink this distance-might-break-the-heartbond theory? What if something happens with the curse in the middle of the night?”
The mention of the heartbond jolted me. “Wait—I haven’t felt your emotions in a while.” I grinned. “Thank Iskyr! You see? The bond was an accident, and it’s already fading!”
Kyrundar didn’t look convinced. “My mother and father said that a heartbond is strongest right after it forms and sometimes if one of the couple is in peril. It might be settling in, fading into the background unless we concentrate on it.”
I didn’t like that possibility. Wyveri didn’t usually talk about heartbonds beyond the very basics until the day before the wedding, when they would pass on the knowledge. I had never so much as accepted a token of interest from a man, so I wasn’t familiar with the finer details of heartbonds. Even if I had been, shifter and elf bonds were uncommon, and for all I knew, they might differ from elf heartbonds.
“You’re displeased and uncertain, and that scares you,” Kyrundar said softly. “I’m sorry. I promise I never would have willingly put you in a position to feel like that.”
I stiffened. “You guessed that based on my expression.”
He glanced heavenward. “Zee, concentrate on me. What am I feeling?”
The thought of spying on Kyrundar’s emotions on purpose made me recoil. Who thought these heartbonds were a good idea, anyway ?
Sorry, Iskyr . I almost cringed, as if our god might strike me right then and there for doubting his wisdom, even though I knew Iskyr was not so unforgiving and vengeful.
Instead, I directed my unease at Kyrundar. “That feels invasive and rude.”
“I give you my permission. Now it isn’t invasive.”
“All right, fine.”
I wasn’t entirely certain how to concentrate on Kyrundar’s emotions. Did I need to stare at him intently? Imagine his feelings like a rope I could grab? Mentally picture my soul reaching toward him and touching his soul? Or simply think about him and open my heart and mind to his presence?
That would involve letting down the walls of displeasure I had constructed. I had a sensation of humor that I knew wasn’t Kyrundar—as if Iskyr were amused with me. Fine. I forgive Kyr. I don’t trust him or like him or want him around, but I forgive him.
I turned my focus back to him. An emotion filtered into my consciousness, like music so distant and quiet I had to strain to hear it, but the moment I stretched toward the feeling, it swelled.
“Why are you so sad?” The words tumbled out of my mouth without proper consideration.
The corner of Kyrundar’s lips tipped upward. “A lot of reasons. None are important right this moment.” He turned toward Laedresh and created two floating ice disks. “Come on. I’ll take you to the gate. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”