Chapter 24 #2
Helene maintained her placid posture as we departed, hovering by the desk.
Her grin didn’t quite reach her eyes, and that alone made my skin crawl.
There was something off about her, and I did not want a third set of eyes tracking my every movement.
Her piousness wasn’t feigned like the nobles in Sivy.
And that made her dangerous in a way that all dogmatic believers were.
We ascended to the top floor—a small mercy that meant we wouldn’t be disturbed.
“Here’s your key,” the innkeeper stuttered, attention firmly fixed on me.
Drinking me in like she’d sear this moment in her memory.
Like she’d speak of it over a round of ale long after the war was over.
“I’ll be around all night. If you need anything, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to ask.
Food, drink, extra soap for your bath. Whatever you need, I can get. ”
And whatever I touched, she’d keep like a treasure. Bitterness bloomed behind my ribs.
“My mate will wish to bathe. Is there hot water already piped to the room?” Vaeron asked her.
“Aye, Herr R?viel. If you’d like, I can wash all your clothes too. You have been traveling a long while.”
“Please,” I said, my voice hoarse. If I could at least scrub off all the grime, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin with anxiety.
“Leave them outside your door. Your trunks have also arrived, and I’ll ensure those get done too.” The eagerness in her expression almost made me feel guilty for how quickly I wanted to get away from her.
Standing here wasn’t doing anything for the panic building to a crescendo in my chest.
Once again, she curtseyed, and then she scurried off, casting furtive glances over her shoulder as she descended the stairs.
Vaeron opened the door, making a quick scan of the room. “Come in.”
I did, closing us off from the outside world.
Adrenaline pounded in my veins, and I strode to the windows overlooking the main square. Angels moved through every street, dispersing now that it was clear I wouldn’t be joining them. Air whooshed out of my lungs, and I collapsed into a chair, tucking my legs into my chest.
Vaeron took the one across from me, concern pinching his brows. “Are you okay?”
“No.” The word cracked out of me, and hot salt stung my eyes. I dragged in a breath, hoping to stop the sob, but that only made it catch in my throat.
I dropped my head to my knees to smother the sound.
In an instant, Vaeron was there, wrapping me in his strong arms. And for the first time in a long time, I leaned into him. Leaned into what he offered.
Safety. Protection. Comfort.
Love.
“I don’t want to be their symbol,” I choked out.
“You don’t have to be,” he murmured.
I lifted my head. “How? Iaoth has already decided who I am to these people. The Seraelth.” I spit the title.
Realmsaver.
“Take it back,” he said, his tone steady and sure. “Now, you have a platform, an audience. You will in Eloi too. We can craft a message that sways people to our side.”
“So when you kill your sister and Stadiel, the people will be amenable to different rulers?” I switched to speaking mind to mind. With how many wanted my attention, I was paranoid about someone unknown lingering and whispering his plan to the crown.
“Yes. Little fugitive, we could work on this together if only you’d let me in. I know we have the same goal.”
“You don’t know what mine is.”
“It’s not hard to guess.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. The irony that now I was the one keeping secrets wasn’t lost on me.
“Tell me of your visions.”
I reared back, narrowing my eyes on him. “Why?”
His strong arms dropped away, and he returned to the other chair. “Because they will aid my plan. The more information I have about possible futures, the easier it will be to guide us to our ultimate end.”
“So you want me to be a weapon for you too.” The accusation landed like a harsh slap.
Vaeron scowled at me. “If that is how you choose to see the situation. You don’t want to be a savior. You don’t want to be a weapon. Yet neither of us can escape the path we are on. We can’t outrun our fates.”
“And what exactly do you think that is?” I hissed.
Change.
The dream I’d had of the Goddess all these months ago surged back.
“We will end the war.” He stated it like it was already done.
“How? By killing all the Demons?” I pressed.
His nostrils flared, and his chest deflated as he exhaled, long and slow. “If we must. But I am trying to find a way forward without that. Are you not?”
I froze for the briefest of seconds, wondering if I hadn’t properly walled off the part of my mind that held my secrets. All the ways I’d been aiming my Sight while I was forced to sit and See. In the small moments I stole for myself to learn more about my power.
Yet I didn’t sense a sharp judgment emanating from him. Only the fervent desire to win me to his side, to show me that we could work together.
Will he hate me once I confess to all my sins?
A knock saved me from having to respond. “It’s me.” Maelsar’s voice drifted through the door.
Vaeron rose, striding across the room to let him in, Lyriasthe on his heels.
“We managed to ditch the errand birds, for now,” she told me, taking the seat Vaeron had occupied. “They started handing out food to the soldiers too.”
“What are they saying about Sylaira?” Vaeron asked Maelsar.
He sighed, bracing his back against the wall and crossing his arms. “She’s all they can talk about. I don’t like it.”
Vaeron snorted. “I don’t either, and she’s my fucking mate.”
“We should leave before first light, before they’re all awake. Otherwise, we’re going to have a repeat of Thaerii.”
Ice slithered down my spine.
Vaeron’s fingers drifted absently to his chest, to where the bronze was threaded in his skin. “Fuck, I need my magic.”
“Use it and Iaoth will know immediately,” Maelsar warned.
“You don’t think I know that?” my mate ground out.
“Hey!” I said, trying to get their attention. The males snapped their heads in my direction. “Lyriasthe can create an Illusion of us to distract them. You don’t need to Command them to leave. We merely need to trick them into thinking they should be elsewhere.”
Vaeron’s jaw locked. “I hate not being the one to protect you.”
“I know.”
“She has a point. Those who do see us moving, I can use my Mirror on. Shouldn’t be hard to turn their fervency against them,” Maelsar agreed.
“Regardless, I’m not leaving this room again,” I pronounced, dropping my feet to the floor. To emphasize my point, I kicked off my boots. “But I’m starving, so I need someone to get me something to eat.”
Lyriasthe huffed a laugh. “I can do it. No one notices me anyway. It’s part of my charm.”
Vaeron dug into his pocket and fished out a silver half-wing. “Buy her a new cloak while you’re out too. Mine is far too large for her. She’ll need to stay more hidden now that we are out in the open. Helene will exploit that at every opportunity.”
“Should I tell her of our plans?” My friend asked, plucking the coin and throwing the hood of her own cloak up.
“Unfortunately, yes. Even if we tried to leave her behind, I have no doubt she’d chase us down on horseback. And then we’d have to face my sister’s wrath,” Vaeron grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Lyriasthe gave a curt nod. “I’ll return shortly then.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She shot me a grin. “I told you that I promised these fuckers I’d look after you. That hasn’t changed, even if our adversaries keep doubling.”
Goddess how I appreciated her, especially now that Heraphia was gone. At the thought of her, more tears pricked my eyes. Grief was still a specter, haunting me in dark moments.
And soon, we’d be on the front.
I’d have to face Zuriel. Tell him how I failed her.
Maelsar and Vaeron sat at an oaken table, speaking in low tones, while I looked out the window at the city below.
I spotted Lyriasthe as she disappeared into the crowd.
Whether it was a result of her Goddess-gifted power or simply all her years on the run as an Elessarum, she had an uncanny ability to go unnoticed.
The villagers all searched for me instead. At least the priestess hadn’t told them she’d dropped us off here—I hoped. With the size of Vyss, there couldn’t be more than a handful of inns; it was only a matter of time before they discovered where we hid.
Vaeron drifted to my side, and I leaned into him, seeking solace.
His expression twisted sinister, and something shifted inside him as he glared at the Angels moving about below. Opening up a crack in our bond, I crept along it, seeking the thoughts that tumbled through his mind.
A metallic tang washed over me, and my breath snagged. I looked up at him, studying the scar over his brow—the one he’d gotten while trying to protect his mother and sister from a horde of Demons.
Absently, he touched the words over his heart. Then with a small shake, he tore himself away from the sight of the city and held my gaze. “Would you like to bathe?”
He knew me. He saw me.
He loves me.
“Yes,” I breathed, shoulders slumping with relief. I was filthy, my hair was an oily mess, and honestly? He stank too.
I didn’t protest as he shooed Maelsar and filled the tub for me. Didn’t protest as he fetched me soaps and let me luxuriate in the water. Didn’t protest as he wrapped me in a towel afterward and carried me to the table laden with food.
And I didn’t protest when he curled around me like a shield against the world that wanted every shattered shard of me.