13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter thirteen
Q uillian doesn’t respond to Zenaton’s threat. Just keeps pace with me, a slower one than I imagine is his normal, until we reach his office.
He shuts the door quietly behind us and moves towards the bookshelf. The buzzing sound in my ears rises several notches in the quiet.
I clear my throat a little, remembering I am supposed to be showing him the ropes here. I just didn’t think it would involve how to manage a death I caused. I swallow. Walking further in the comfortable room, I head for the small settee.
‘You’ll need to advise Traelen,’ I say, the tremor in my voice now definitely audible. ‘Ideally before Zenaton, or anyone else, gets word to him or the Prime Minister first. The … burial won’t be here, so we won’t need to organise that like I did for Claudius. Then—’ my hands flutter around me.
In three steps, Quillian crosses the space between Claudius’s bookshelf and where I sit.
Wordlessly, he hands me a small tumbler full of dark, amber liquid. Our fingers brush slightly as I take it and the contact surprises me. I thought I was numb. His chiseled face is open and kind when I meet his gaze but I can’t bring myself to tell him what I’ve done. Part of me thinks I should pay for my actions. But telling him I met with Cortane, gave her sensitive information, implicates both Claudius and Blossom.
‘You’re meant to drink it,’ he says gently, gesturing towards the cold glass in my hand. ‘It will calm you.’
I inhale the heady scent first, trying to clear the smell of blood that remains in my nose, and my eyes water. An actual tear escapes when I drag the flaming hot liquid into the depths of my stomach.
‘Sorry,’ I say, placing the engraved glass back in his waiting hand, ‘I’m not normally the fainting, freaking out type, but that was my second dead body in, what? A week? And there was … blood …’ I swallow.
‘Not normal for you?’ he asks.
‘Would it be for you?’ I ask back before I register it was probably supposed to be a joke.
A flicker runs over his face.
‘What did you do before you came here?’ I ask, a tiny warning sounding in the back of my mind. A reminder that Nix and River know him somehow. That he put them here. That Blossom isn’t distrusting of him, exactly, but … conscious of him.
‘More of the same,’ he says.
I scan his face as he sits next to me on the couch, turned completely to me. As if his entire being is focused on me. Very different to how his attention was on every detail in the room as he spoke to Emeris. Assessing every movement, each word spoken around him. Every look. Now the still intensity of that focus is wholly on me.
My skin heats under the attention and I try not to squirm.
‘I know this is hard, Luka,’ he says and his voice washes over me. ‘But … she wasn’t a good person.’
I frown at him. ‘How do you know?’ I ask, hating the way the weight of the guilt lessens a bit at his declaration.
He studies me so long I almost think he’s not going to answer me. But there’s a decision happening beneath the surface, so I wait him out.
‘Are you not at all aware of why these people are here? It is a prison after all,’ he says, watching me carefully. ‘Even if it is a fucking joke of one.’
All the words and questions that were previously running through my mind suddenly vacate. I look at where his right arm rests stiffly along the back of the couch, following the limb up to his shoulder and find myself distracted by trying to decipher his tattoo again. There’s something about its dancing shapes and colours I want to unpack. But Kasera’s death has taken its toll and I can’t focus on it and his question as well. As I let myself look back to his face, I realise he’s waiting.
Not only for my response, but for my judgement.
My opinion.
‘Why do you say that?’ I ask.
His shoulders relax slightly, perhaps that I haven’t immediately recoiled from his traitorous words as I should – I should be defending my service here, yet I’m not. But the tension still runs in his muscles and the fingers that grip the red fabric of the Warden’s couch.
‘Can I trust you, Luka?’ he asks plainly.
My stomach bottoms out. Claudius trusted me. Blossom, Nix and River trust me.
But as I search his face, the way he is openly searching me in return, I know he can trust me. I want him to trust me. And I will do everything I can not to betray that trust.
I just don’t know how to achieve that and make sure Nix and River don’t end up inmates alongside Cortane.
‘Of course,’ I say, desperately wanting it to stay true.
His body doesn’t completely relax but he shifts a fraction closer to me and drops his elbows to his knees. The navy pants of his uniform rise up at the ankles slightly, his pale blue shirt pulling across the top of his shoulders.
Up this close, I can see his nose isn’t quite straight. A short lock of his deep-brown hair falls across his forehead and my fingers twitch with the temptation to reach out and brush it out of the way.
‘Traelen, or anyone else, for that matter,’ he says, ‘would have me imprisoned somewhere far worse than this island if they knew I was having this conversation with you.’
‘Okay …’ I say. My response is soft but it doesn’t stop my imploring gaze, waiting for more, nor the increasing beat of my heart, begging to be part of this secret.
‘You are told of their successes when they arrive. But every one of these prisoners is here for a legitimate reason. Mostly sick, disturbing reasons.’ He pauses, watching me.
My mind immediately fills with an image of Davorous watching Blossom.
‘Go on,’ I prompt, frozen in my seat.
‘The only farce is how they are treated up here.’
‘Every one of them?’ The faces of Nix and River dance in front of me and my stomach starts to churn. But then I no longer believe there was an actual sentence – or a real one – that got them here.
He exhales gently.
‘All those who have been sentenced here should be somewhere worse.’ He pushes the hair out of his face. ‘So don’t mourn Kasera like you do the Warden, I promise she’s not worth it.’
My heart warms at his concern for me and then I hate myself a little more that it’s someone’s death that brought it on. But he’s right, I’ve always known there were reasons they were here but, having never been allowed to ask about them, I moved on.
I took the easy way. The route that made my time here easier, serving them easier.
‘Can you tell me what she did?’ My voice is barely above a whisper and I can’t believe the words have actually left my lips. Do I really want to know?
He studies me for a moment.
‘It goes no further.’ It’s a statement but I understand his meaning and I nod. ‘She purchased two children and raised them as her slaves. Their conditions were … not good.’
My breath leaves me in a hurry, replaced by a white-hot fury just as quickly.
‘I don’t—shit, that’s … awful.’ ‘Awful’ feels completely inadequate, but my mind is spinning.
‘Yes. But equally bad is this joke of a punishment.’
He stares at me and I can only hold his gaze in return. The two of us locked in a moment of shared horror, one of us waiting for the other to catch up and …
‘What do we do?’ I ask, and his eyebrows almost meet the ceiling.
‘You … would want to do something?’
I frown. Why wouldn’t I? ‘Of course. That’s …’ I trail off, looking for something that will convey what is starting to take shape in my mind. ‘If they have all done something that … abhorrent, I can’t—we can’t—they can’t be here.’
Quillian’s lips part as he blows out a breath I can feel softly on my face.
‘Fuck,’ he mutters running a hand down his face. ‘No. You,’ he says, looking me full in the face, ‘will finish your extension and leave. Live your life.’
I continue watching him, pursing my lips as I think over what to tell him. Wondering how much is safe in this moment he’s creating by trusting me. Wondering how in the world Kasera ended up here instead of Vana.
‘I wasn’t extended,’ I say, pausing for a moment. ‘I wasn’t collected.’
We both jump as the chime on the gold phone pierces into the room. He lets it go for a moment longer than necessary, staring at me.
‘Quillian,’ he growls into the handpiece when he reaches the desk. The couch gently moves back into position next to me, erasing the depression where he sat. ‘Thank you. That time suits for Luka and me to give our regular check-in. Though I have an update for Traelen now. Can you please advise him one of the prisoners has passed away?’
There’s a pause.
‘Of course. Her name was Kasera and the healers are currently preparing her for transfer back to the Zanteera mainland for her family.’
I watch from my position, running the soft fabric of the couch fiercely under my fingernails as Quillian goes through the details with Traelen’s office. Somehow, the spinning of my mind slows a little when I look at him.
My next steps are clear. Get through today, confront Cortane.
Quillian replaces the handpiece into the cradle and I listen to its soft clunk , not dissimilar to the sound of my empty tipple glasses finding the bench. He walks back to me slowly and holds out a hand. I take it without hesitation and tug against him slightly as I stand.
His focused attention singes my cheeks as I look up at him. He seems taller than I noticed before, but he’s not that much taller than Nix. As my heart now aches for the children Kasera has hurt so badly, I find any feeling of guilt has almost completely left me. Did Cortane also know what she’d done?
‘What happened to the children?’ I ask, not sure how I will cope with the answer.
‘They were placed into special care, somewhere far from here. Somewhere they are … more accustomed to trauma and helping people through it. Their lives will be forever changed now. But it will give them the best chance to move forward. It’s not a great solace,’ he says, ‘but I hope …’
‘It did,’ I say. ‘I feel … like I should feel bad about how little I now care about Kasera, but I do feel better.’
Quillian holds my gaze in a way that fills me up with something I don’t know the name of. Something quiet and overwhelming. Something unyielding, yet unsure, and I soak it in.
‘Unless that’s just the whiskey,’ I say into the thickness gathering around us, this almost tangible shift in whatever is growing between us with what he’s shared.
Quillian’s mouth quirks, just slightly in one corner, the hint of his dimple teasing me, asking me to make it appear completely.
‘Maybe,’ he says, ‘I did say it would calm you. But it wasn’t the drink. I’d still like to do that.’ His voice is quiet and there’s a question in his features he’s not voicing.
‘Me too,’ I whisper. Even if my chest twinges with what Nix will think. What Quillian will think when he knows I am meeting with Cortane. But there is nothing in me that can find a way to say no.
The hard stare Cortane levels me with gives me a moment’s pause, but I don’t back down. Kasera was killed – by a dart to the fucking eye – and it’s entirely possible, likely even, it was because of the information I gave Cortane. I don’t know why the sporting event was significant. Perhaps it wasn’t. But Magnolina ‘throwing wide’ as Emeris claims just feels like far too much of a coincidence to be true. Claudius told me Cortane is a Shaide, that she can portal, said he would make sure her magic dampeners weren’t being given – or taken, whatever.
And I told her when the event was.
It doesn’t feel like a big leap to think she killed Kasera based on my information. As much as Quillian’s claims assuage any guilt I feel about Kasera herself, knowing that I played a key role in her death shifts uncomfortably in my gut.
‘I asked you how you did it?’ I ask again.
She continues studying me, her hazel eyes narrowed.
‘And I’m thinking that’s a question people like you don’t normally ask first,’ she says, her voice as cold as the bars between us. ‘People like you normally ask why , which makes me wonder if you’re more like me than I’d guessed.’
I scoff. But I need to know if she can actually portal out of Vana. Because, if Claudius has managed the stoppage of her magic dampener and she can, then we’re a step closer to getting Nix and River with her next time.
When I first saw them here I thought there must have been a mistake. Now, however vague my understanding of what they’re doing here is, I know it’s connected to a picture much bigger than the one I can currently see. One I’m now highly suspicious Kasera is – was – part of. Right now, the best I can do is secure them a way off the island and out of reach of Vana – and hope I can find a way around the wards that surround the island so they don’t spend the rest of their lives on the run.
A cold shiver slides down my back as I consider how blatantly I am not only engaging in activities forbidden by my duty contract by being here with Cortane, but how my awareness of the scale of what they’re a part of is growing. And growing in a way that makes me want to look a little closer. Deeper.
Two things that put the safe, legal end of my duty at significant risk.
Two things that also, potentially, push me in the direction of Vana if I am found out for being complicit.
‘Firstly, I am nothing like you,’ I say, pushing away thoughts of the inside of Vana and how at ease I am with Kasera’s death. ‘Secondly, I didn’t miss the fact you didn’t deny it.’
‘Deny ridding the world of a child abuser? Is that what I’m supposed to be apologising for?’
She’s more still than anyone has a right to be. My legs still throb from the run across the expanse of grass and quiver underneath my weight.
‘I’m not asking you to apologise,’ I grind out, wondering if I should be.
The right side of her mouth curls up in a half-grin. One she’s giving begrudgingly but there is a tiny spark in her eyes.
‘And I’m not missing your lack of shock at what that woman did.’ She sits back on her heels in the alcove and lets the grin come completely to her face. ‘You have a source. One you believe.’
I stay silent.
She makes a smacking noise with her lips.
‘Right answer,’ she says. ‘Did you learn it from me?’
We watch each other, a tentative release seeping through the muscles of my jaw.
‘You need me,’ I say, resolute in my belief Claudius wouldn’t have sent me here if not. ‘I—’
‘Don’t act like you don’t need me, too, Princess,’ she snaps.
‘I’m no fucking princess,’ I seethe.
‘You live in the castle in the sky, dressed in the finest silks, eating the best food Zanteera can create. Let me guess, do you bathe in the milk of the gods as you turn a blind eye to everything the prisoners you wait on day and night do in broad fucking daylight?’
Davorous’s face swirls in my mind, competing with faceless children Kasera imprisoned, and I close my eyes for a moment. Discussing this, now, with Cortane isn’t useful.
‘You’re right,’ I say, teeth gritted. ‘I need you.’
She cocks her head, watching me.
‘Yes,’ she says slowly, as if she also understands the need for a truce here. ‘Word has reached me of the soldiers awaiting transfer to Vana.’
‘So you’ll help me?’ I ask.
‘You’re not worried other people will die if I do?’
I let myself sink to the mossy floor of the alcove where I’m perched, kicking my legs out from under me.
‘Yes,’ I say honestly, leaning my head against the stone. ‘But if I don’t, those innocent soldiers will end up in here.’ I gesture to the prison behind her. Its brown, stone walls so similar to ours, yet draped in hopelessness.
‘How much do you know of what happens here?’ she asks, genuinely curious.
‘Probably less than I should, but more than I want.’
‘It’s the innocent ones whose screams they delight in the most.’ She pauses. ‘Also interesting is how quickly the new attendants settle in, learn to be eager to try out the newest techniques. If anyone was to ask me, it’s them that should never be allowed home. Exactly what does the Nuntainian government think those people are doing behind closed doors after experiencing all of … this?’ She gestures vaguely to the prison that frames her.
I shudder. The clenching in my stomach when I think about letting Nix rot in here, with those kinds of people, tells me I’ll never change my mind, but I do hope my own freedom isn’t the cost.
‘I want to know everything you know about the new Warden,’ she says suddenly. ‘Including where he stays, who he sees, and how he’s adjusting to his new role.’
I stare at her, a poisonous taste forming in the back of my throat.
‘Bring me that,’ she says, ‘and I’ll tell you how I help you and your soldiers.’
‘Will you hurt him?’ I regret the question as soon as it’s out and her expression flashes.
‘I suggest you don’t get too attached to anyone in that palatial prison of yours, particularly not your new Warden, Princess. ’