Chapter 57 Claeg
I stalked away from Ercan and Rohit, trusting them to care for Anastasius even though it pained me to leave him. It was tradition. Before our Circles were joined, they had to separate. So, I walked away. Bristling. But I did so anyway, unsure where I was going. I wandered the halls, letting my face be seen. There were a mix of reactions upon seeing me. Relief, confusion, and a little bit of fear. The Ruptor had returned, but with a man. With the enemy. What were his intentions? Who was he now? I could feel all the questions pressing upon my shoulders like a heavy coat. Sweat coated their palms, and curiosity laid slick upon tongues. Nearly tangible, but they held their questions. For now.
My instincts brought me to Clotho’s chambers. Something was going on there. Not quite a weakness, but a foreign thing. One I didn’t understand and that perplexed me. When the only thing separating me from her room was her door. I paused before lifting my hand to knock. Someone was inside, and it wasn’t just my sister. The voice wasn’t Circulus, the tone hitting me with a rough accent. The witch. Hushed voices seeped through the door, barely audible, but I caught fragments.
“Brother . . . changes . . . can’t . . .” Clotho hissed.
The witch’s voice was more discernible. More distinct. Still faint. “More . . . common . . . thought.”
“. . . Three favors . . .”
My interest peaked. I frowned, pressing my ear against the door like a child.
“Sivert’s here,” the witch announced a moment later. I startled. They were expecting Sivert. Shit. I did the bold thing when they stirred within: I knocked. I could practically hear the tension spike in the room. The Ruptor purred, sensing something hidden. Something secret. People hid things that made them weak. I swallowed the instinct to demand answers when Clotho opened the door. Her violet eyes widened remarkably upon seeing me.
“Claeg.” The greeting tumbled out of her mouth, revealing her surprise. She blinked rapidly, regaining her composure. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” she asked, her emotions bleeding into her tone. Shit. What did I want? My throat tightened. My palms were slick with sweat, reminding me of the scars on them. My wounds. Pain that I had overcome with strength.
Clotho blinked at me, arching a brow. Another dry swallow. She opened the door wider, revealing her weapon-covered body. And more importantly, the witch. Again, it struck me how young she was. Younger than Clotho. I would be surprised if she were twenty sun turns. Yet her stance was heavy. Guarded. She wore just as many weapons as Clotho—an interesting choice considering she wasn’t Circulus. She wasn’t even De Vita. She was Other. But my clan seemed to trust her. The Ruptor probed her for weakness but found none. Intriguing.
“I have come to speak with the witch,” I said.
Clotho exchanged a whole conversation with the witch in a single glance. The girl nodded and beckoned me. She wore a necklace nearly identical to the one they had taken from Anastasius. They both had a light golden glow with energy swirling within the pendant. Magic. But that wasn’t the witch’s only strength. The Ruptor recognized itself in her. Another Ruptor. Did she sense our similarities, too? Did Clotho? I looked between the two, taking in the way Clotho stood with her teeth clenched, her hands flexing as if she were itching to grab one of the twin daggers at her back.
When the other woman spoke, the sound irritated my senses, like an itch within the lungs. . The tongue was foreign but familiar enough for me to recognize the notes of our language. “What is it you want, Ruptor?” Her cadence wrapped around the notes awkwardly. The speech grated my skin with its rawness.
“I am here to fulfill my debt,” I replied with a casual shrug.
She snorted. “That favor is mine and mine alone to decide when to use, Ruptor.”
I growled. The Ruptor didn’t like being indebted to anyone, hated the lack of control.
Clotho took a step between us. I cocked an eyebrow at her. Was she protecting the woman or her power? Likely the power. There was no weakness within the witch. She radiated strength.
“Did you need something else?” Clotho bit out. Again, I looked between the two. The girl was glaring at Clotho, pushing her tongue into her cheek. She was a fucking mystery. One the Ruptor desperately wanted to unravel. She was the unknown. Unknowns could be forged into weaknesses. Or strengths.
“Who are you?” I asked, wishing the Ruptor could compel her to answer. Her eyes widened.
“You haven’t earned that information,” Clotho said, oddly protective. Her hand went to the dagger at her shoulder, drawing it. I gaped at my sister. “Now leave.” She pointed the tip of her favorite blade toward the door.
I had no interest in fighting with my sister, so with a final glance at the fledgling, I left, pushing the odd encounter from my mind. For now.