Chapter Eight #2
‘I mean, we rely mainly on sunlight. But my brother did invent a means in which we turn the heated energy from the Relic into permanent sources of light.’ I realise after I say it that she wasn’t really asking, more making a joke of my question.
‘Please tell me he’s not going to try to break through the Divide to get to you. I swear to those gods of yours that Eliaz just doesn’t think before he acts.’
I shake my head, looking to the floor, and she doesn’t pry. Instead, she just bites at her lip, humming a little while, perhaps to buy her some time to come up with a change of subject.
‘I’ve never had cake, Eira. Have you?’
I’m beginning to realise that it is not easy to predict what comes out of this girl’s mouth. My lips quirk upwards.
‘Of course, I love cake. Does your cook not make any?’
She shakes her head. ‘We don’t have any sugar here, and our cook only likes meat and potatoes. So that’s what we eat all day every day, meat and potatoes and meat and potatoes and—’
She stops at a mahogany door that has the letters C.M.D engraved into it. It’s an incredibly rough etching, as though a child has hacked at the wood with a butter knife.
‘We’re here.’
I straighten up. ‘Lillienne’s here? Lillienne!’ I take a step towards the door but Calli bars it with her arm. My stomach does a faint flip at the memory of the king doing the very same action in preventing me from reaching Lillienne.
But the look on Calli’s face is nothing close to menacing, her nose scrunches, she’s evidently troubled by something.
‘Look, I should warn you, Eira.’ She drops her head and exhales.
‘She is in quite a bad state. The fever has officially settled in, and her condition has deteriorated quite rapidly.’ She looks me in the eye, all darkness, but somewhere glistening there on the surface of her eyes, is a tender optimism.
‘She must get worse in order to get better. We need to have patience.’
I screw up my face. ‘I don’t understand what’s happening to her. What is he doing to her in there?’ I try to push forward again but fail. Calli is surprisingly strong for such a wraithlike thing.
She jerks her head back from me, appalled. ‘You honestly think Eliaz is doing this to her?’ she asks, her voice suddenly laced with the acidic sting of displeasure. ‘I don’t know what they teach you in Reyhen, but something tells me you’re in desperate need of a reality check.’
We stand face to face, silently begging each other to yield.
Something about the desperation stiffening her features makes me consider the fact that maybe I am the one who needs to back down.
After all, I am the enemy to her, in her own kingdom.
Even if her king has done nothing but torture me for his own amusement.
I hesitate in contemplation of her words. If not the king, then who? My internal conflict must show in my eyes, because Calli finally steps back from the door, her hand making a swooping gesture that implies I may open it.
I pause before my fingers touch the copper doorknob. If Lillienne’s state has declined at such a rapid rate, what kind of condition am I going to find her in behind this door?
Calli places a comforting hand on my shoulder.
‘She will get better,’ her voice is a whisper. ‘But she needs her best friend. A calm, open-minded best friend.’
I nod, appreciating her reassurance, admiring her ability to see past differences in order to bring comfort to someone much in need of it.
The door doesn’t creak at all, it swings open without much effort, slamming against the wall as I let go of the knob.
I am hit with a brightness I didn’t anticipate from Umbra, not through any differing lighting techniques, but in the soft pink of the walls and the pristine creamy white of the furnishings.
A vanity-table painted with hundreds of tiny pink daisies lines the wall, shouldered by a large armoire painted with golden ivy.
Complete with a beautifully kept cream wood flooring, the whole room has the soothing energy of the sanctity of childhood, like it was once a safe haven for a little girl desperate to escape the disparity that lurked beyond the door.
And it is the most well-kept part of this wretched place I’ve seen so far.
Tears well up in my eyes at the sight of the girl lying in the middle of the white, wooden bed near the window.
Her upper body is propped up by a ridiculous number of pillows, yet her head still lolls to the side, blue-grey lips parted open with the looseness of deep sleep.
If not for the shining blonde waves that lie tousled over her sweat-soaked nightdress, or her high-set cheekbones and the fullness of her long lashes, I would not recognise the girl before me as my oldest friend and companion.
My knees weaken at the shock of it, and I stumble forwards like a Pegasus foal testing their legs for the first time.
But I find the strength to stop dead when I notice the dark figure sitting on a chair by Lillienne’s bedside, a basin full to the brim with a green, gritty substance in one hand, and a damp cloth covered in the same liquid in the other.
The Umbrian king takes one glance at me, before rolling his eyes and lowering them to Lillienne.
He dabs the skin on her arm with a tenderness I never thought possible from a living nightmare.
I’m slightly taken aback at his sudden disinterest in me after all he has said and done to cause me distress, at how with the absence of brutality in his expression, he perplexes rather than frightens.
He lets out an exasperated breath. ‘I thought I told you not to go anywhere near that room, Calli.’
The red-head shuffles into the room behind me. ‘She was projecting her guts all over said room.’ She looks down at him over her raised chin. ‘And I pride myself in being the kind of person that doesn’t ignore something like that.’
He remains rubbing the contents of the basin onto Lillienne’s ashen skin, giving it a greenish hue.
‘Must everyone be so defiant,’ the king says through clenched teeth.
I glance between the two of them, trying to figure out the nature of their relationship.
There must be a significant degree of closeness for Calli to act so brazen before her king.
Well, that and she seems like the only person who’d be brave – or reckless – enough to confront anyone, Umbrian king or otherwise.
Calli makes a face at the top of his downturned head, sticking her tongue out for good measure.
I kneel by Lillienne’s bedside, taking her hand in mine. I had expected it to be cold due to its lack of colour, but warmth and life still radiate from the greyness.
‘Lillienne,’ I choke. ‘I’m here now, it’s Eira.’
‘She’s asleep.’ The king sets the basin on the shabby white bedside table, lazily tossing the cloth into the green substance. It splatters onto the table in globs, like a grainy mucus.
‘By choice?’ I ask, my sudden courage quickly dissolving into a tangy cowardice on my tongue as soon as the words escape me. I slump a little, as though it might be effective in making me seem smaller, not worth acknowledging.
He settles back into his chair, propping his feet up on the edge of the bed and crossing them, causing Lillienne’s leg to roll slightly with the weight. I scowl at the nonchalance in his movement.
‘She denied my offer of assistance if that’s what you’re getting at. The fever is tiring enough, she said.’
My throat constricts at the thought of him and Lillienne, alone – how frightened must she have been. Especially after his shock appearance in my bedchamber, where even then we could not be certain what he might be capable of. At least we can add kidnapping to that once non-existent list.
I squint at him with interrogative eyes. ‘I cannot figure out how you are able to infiltrate one’s consciousness so freely. Such an intrusive power most certainly does not come from the Relic, and you have made it very clear to me that the energy of the Relic does not reach this territory.’
‘Eliaz?’ Calli questions, now resting her back on the doorframe, feet crossed. He waves her away in dismissal, earning himself a scoff.
‘How do you do it?’ I push for an answer.
He leans further back into his chair, crossing his arms, the black sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his bicep.
His eyes ignite with amusement. ‘All the best villains never tell.’
My cheek twitches. I notice the smooth skin of his exposed forearm, no trace of redness from my burst of fire left there as evidence. As though he hadn’t even been burned at all. And at this point, I am terrified to admit, I cannot be sure that he had.
‘I see your burns have healed up nicely.’ I find great pleasure in reminding him that I am unrelenting, with or without the Relic’s power. ‘Does that horrid green poultice also heal assholes of their afflictions?’
His mouth twitches, either out of arrogance or in the temptation of a smirk. I hate that he relishes in my better attempts at pluckiness.
‘You deserve to know nothing of my abilities.’
‘She deserves less torment and more explanation, Eliaz. She believes that you are the one causing her best friend’s pain,’ Calli pipes up.
The king’s eyes darken on me, reminiscent of his first appearance at my initiation. I shiver at the memory.
‘You can either lower yourself to the role of villain here, or you can help her to understand what you are doing with Lillienne. Explain what is causing the pain and fever, and why you brought her here, or I will.’
The Umbrian king’s expression closes-up with an emotion I cannot decipher.
‘She deserves to remain in the dark.’
Out of my control, no matter how much I internally scream in protest, my eyes dip closed from the light.
Sleep.