Chapter 19 #2
He didn’t elaborate, so she returned to her bed and picked at the leftover bread. It was stale, and she had to use the nails of her good hand to pierce the crust, the bread itself braced between her knees, before it would break.
“So, why’d you do it?” she asked finally, unable to resist now that they were truly alone.
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Save me. From the specters. You stood in front of it like it was nothing. But with the n?gens….” You left me to die. She couldn’t say it outright.
His chin dipped. “I am sorry about that.” He became very interested in the bread in his hands. “You’ll never know how sorry.” She waited, and he sighed. “I’ve never been much afraid of ghosts. I’ve got enough in here.” He tapped his temple, glancing at her.
Thia watched him for a moment, chewing her cheek, then hedged, “Your daughter?”
His frame seemed to curve in on itself. “Yes.” She thought he wouldn’t say anything else, but after a moment, he added, “’Bout your age. Or she would have been if….” He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “A wife too. They’re both gone now.”
“Oh.” Thia folded her hands together. “I’m sorry.”
“Five years ago, unrest was brewing in the Wastes—the dead lands between the Midlunds and the Sutherlunds,” he said softly.
“Barely inhabitable except to those of us who grew up there. The king took to quelling it, and my village was razed. I saw my…” His voice dropped to a whisper, and she nearly missed his next words.
“I still hear their screams, when the fear hits.”
God.
She was searching for a response when he continued, “The purge began shortly after. My scribe’s tower had already burned, so I considered my duty t’ the order finished.
” He was between accents now, as though reliving his past was sending him back to it.
“A blessing in disguise, I supposed, when I learned what had befallen those who heeded the summons. I was in Black Forest by then.” He drew his knees up to his chest and returned to watching the city beyond the window.
It was truly dark now, only a few flickers of gold from what Thia presumed were torches or candles visible beyond.
She set the tray on the floor and settled under the blankets. “Thran,” she said hesitantly, and he turned. But she didn’t know what she wanted to say.
He gave her an appraising look. “You’ve forgiven me for leaving you to die.”
“I—” she started, unsure. “I understand why you did,” she said instead.
He squared his shoulders, turning back to the window. “Then it is I who should be thanking you.” She couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not, if he saw through her non-answer. There was something resigned in the set of his jaw. “I shall try to be worthy of it.”
A roar sounded, and Thia startled upright. It came from the night beyond their room, but it was deafening, and the walls shook.
“What the hell was that?” Thia said, clutching the sheets into her fists.
“Shadowlings.” Thia followed his sight to the window, where something moved in the air beyond. In the darkness, it was hard to make out, but Thia thought she saw a serpentine shape nearly the width of the street slither past.
“What are they?”
“Creatures born of the king’s dark magic. The very reason he was able to conquer these lands so quickly, with such little resistance. They seek those who break curfew.” He paused, as if sensing her distress, though he still didn’t turn. “Do not fear. They won’t enter.”
But as she settled back beneath the blanket for the night, wrist throbbing uncomfortably, his eyes never left the glass.
Thia turned a corner, then another, ducking to avoid the swing of a shoulder much taller than hers.
Once more pounding the streets of Cyning, she had left Thran shortly after dawn to continue her search.
She was having as little luck as the day before, though Lord Sagan’s coin had bought them some kind of meat-stuffed pastry from a local vendor, so at least she was no longer hungry.
She wondered how Oskaren was faring, if Dess was able to get past whatever wound existed between them and care for her.
Thia darted down a narrow alleyway less crowded than the main road, though its smell was tenfold.
She narrowly avoided human feces, an uncoordinated skip saving her shoes but jarring her injured wrist painfully.
She really needed a healer, not just for Oskaren, but for herself.
She knew the fracture wasn’t bad, since there was no visible sign of the break, but it was swollen.
She emerged from the alley to halt in her tracks as a carriage careened down the road.
Cyning was a labyrinth, but with the Lightning Tower a looming shadow visible above it all, marking the way north, it was impossible to get lost. She decided to head left, deeper into the city, and found herself in an open square.
A fountain marked the center, its basin carved with rippling wave patterns that were probably nice once, though now were crumbling and covered in grime.
No water danced from the spout. The square was also empty, as though people were afraid to spend too much time in the open, save for a single woman beside the fountain, her long emerald dress a stark contrast to the muted and dirty tones of the city.
The skirt sparkled in the sun as she turned, her familiar silver eyes dancing to Thia’s as though expecting to see her there.
“Oh, dear,” Callista said, noting the dirt on Thia’s clothes, the sweat plastered to her brow. “You look a mess.”
Thia waited half a second before sprinting across the square to throw herself at the woman. She wrapped her good arm around the sorceress’s shoulders, and she stiffened, but then relaxed into the hug, patting Thia lightly on the back.
“There now, dear. I told you I would meet you. Why did you not find me in the mirror?”
Thia pulled back, whatever frustration she’d held for the woman melting away in her relief. “I tried. It didn’t work.”
Callista’s perfectly manicured brows rose. “Intriguing,” she said, though Thia had no idea what was intriguing about that.
“I need your help,” she said, remembering her purpose.
“To see King Caradoc, yes,” Callista said, and Thia shook her head.
“No. I’m not alone. One of my traveling companions—she’s dying. Xercae found us.”
Callista’s mouth dropped in surprise, something Thia mused probably didn’t happen often, since the sorceress seemed slightly uncomfortable with the feeling. “Xercae?”
“She marked me for…Unfleshing,” Thia explained hastily. “For the part I played in Asha’s death.”
“Fair Havens,” Callista said, with feeling. “After I fought her off, I assumed she would return to her lair to sulk. I never dreamed she would go after you.” She brushed a hand over Thia’s cheek. “Never mind that now. What about this companion of yours?”
“Right,” Thia said. “Are you a healer?”
Callista pulled a petulant expression. “Of course.”
Thia’s knees nearly collapsed with relief. She’d done it. “Follow me.”