Chapter 56 Neirin
NEIRIN
While Evera and Calix prepared a tea for the Alidian children, I filled my time in idle chat with Nyana.
Around us, the bustle of kitchen life went on as Nyana’s girls prepared the morning meal.
The scent of rosemary hung in the air, and loaves of bread sat in the stone oven, their pillowed tops rising as they heated through.
Nyana had never believed I killed Kaius, but she expected explanations nonetheless, so I caught her up to the best of my knowledge. I told her first about how Evera and I had come upon the King, and finished up with the letter from Harlan and my belief that the Queen was behind Kaius’s death.
“The woman is unwell,” Nyana said, sitting atop the crate I’d propped myself upon so many times in my youth.
I pushed off the counter where I’d leaned to pace anxiously, running a hand through my hair. “Unwell?”
“Her mind is … unsound. The few times I’ve seen her, she’s seemed short-tempered, on edge. Though in truth, I don’t believe she’s left her room in several days now. I’ve been having the girls take tea and meals up to her chambers.”
The lack of my blood was affecting her, then.
I’d suspected it would, though I was unsure to what extent.
Nyana, however, did not know the truth of what I was, nor of what the Queen was.
The riddles of lies woven out of desperation to conceal what happened to Thatcher all those years ago stung my throat.
“Perhaps her conscience has finally come forward to haunt her for the role she played in her husband’s demise,” I offered, wanting to move away from the topic.
“Neirin …” Calix approached, then hesitated. As a messenger, he’d been trained not to interrupt, but he’d begun to adopt a more casual disposition with Evera and I. He was learning how to balance cautious habits with this new comfort.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The tea is ready.” The boy’s eyes shone with excitement. Something about him seemed different.
“Did you try it yourself?”
He nodded.
“And it works?”
“I believe so.” His energy seemed improved, and the dark circles beneath his eyes were less noticeable.
I dismissed the boy and held out a hand to Nyana. When she took it, I helped her to her feet and pulled her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her. Would I see her again? I breathed in the scent of her, the familiar warmth she gave me.
A thought crossed my mind then, and I withdrew the coin sack from my jacket pocket.
Counting out the remaining silver, I hesitated.
The coin would buy Evera, Calix, and I passage to the western lands.
It would give us an easy life for some time.
However, I could not be comfortable in an easy life knowing that the woman who raised me was growing old and tired without some funds to her name.
What I had would not provide for her the rest of her life, but it would be something.
After a moment of thought, I kept one silver aside, knowing it would at least buy Evera passage.
Calix and I could offer our services on board the ship in exchange for the fare, but I would not subject Evera to swabbing vomit and sleeping in the crew’s quarters among vile, immoral men. The rest I placed back in the pouch.
Nyana rejected the coin at first, but I placed it in her hand stubbornly and curled her fingers. “If I do not return, I need to know that I have done something to keep you cared for. It’s not much, but it’s all I can spare.”
“The girls will care for me, if need be,” she said, though she did not try again to give back the small pouch. I frowned, uncertain.
Calix returned, chewing at his bottom lip. Whether he was nervous about the potential danger ahead or simply excited to reunite with his friends, I couldn’t say. Though I was getting to know him, he was still a difficult boy to read.
I released a breath, heavy with the burdens and responsibilities I bore, and the worry I felt for those I loved. I followed the boy to where Evera waited for us by one of the smaller hearths, where a pot remained hooked over the flames, nearly empty of its contents.
“This should be enough,” Evera said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
Two baskets arranged with an assortment of water skins, bottles, and clear glass canisters sat before her.
The containers that could be seen through held a slightly murky-looking liquid, with a color somewhere between light brown and faint green.
Steam fogged what little space there was for air beneath corks or glass tops.
Apprehension nearly swallowed me whole as my eyes held the collection. If this tea did not work—
“This will work,” Evera said, placing a hand on my arm and drawing my gaze to hers.
“You are reading my emotions again,” I said beneath my breath, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I beheld the woman I loved.
Her cinnamon hair, which usually framed her face in soft waves, had sprung into all manner of chaos from working over the boiling water.
A particularly stubborn curl stuck out just above her left ear, and when I tried to flatten it out, it retaliated, sticking out even further.
Unable to resist, I laughed and she joined me.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her, cupping her cheek.
“From your unruly hair to your stunning eyes.” I trailed my hand lower.
“To your heart, the way you care for others. What you are doing here is—” Selfless? Kind? Pure?
Not needing me to finish the sentence, she nodded and rested her hand over mine, her smile full of warmth. Full of love.
The walls of the narrow lower-level corridors of the castle felt as though they were closing in on me, even though two or three could walk side by side.
In this section, occasional pane-less windows lined the left wall, allowing light and fresh air to enter.
Still, it was too dark, too confining. And soon all daylight would be gone.
Only the dark would remain. Only horrors I wished desperately that I did not have to expose Evera to.
I glanced down at Calix, and he met my gaze, eyes solemn.
He, too, knew what remained concealed beneath the stone we walked on.
On the right, a doorway opened to a rounded stairwell.
We took it one by one, with myself at the lead and Calix falling in line behind Evera.
With each step down, the air became more musky, thick, and choking.
Just as the steps became nearly impossible to make out, the yellow flickering light of a mounted wall torch seeped around the corner.
“This area won’t be guarded,” I said, clearing the last step and retrieving the lantern.
Evera remained close to me. Calix, however, held back at the bottom of the stairwell.
“I won’t let her hurt you,” I promised the boy.
He raised his eyes, and in the flickering light his throat bobbed.
I was unsure what brought me to speak the words.
Of course, I had no guarantee, but if it was true that the Queen was unwell in her chambers, there was no reason that we shouldn’t be safe here.
Safer, in fact, than anywhere else in the castle.
This section was used only occasionally for the storage of extra wine, ale, or the occasional collection of dried meat if a hunt was particularly successful.
Nodding once, Calix stepped forward, a visible shudder racking his body. It was a reminder that I was not alone in the residual fear left from the Queen’s lessons. She’d used her magic and her abilities to train all of us, to push us down, make us submit.
“This way,” I said. The words came out raspy, and I cleared my throat as I passed the torch to Calix so I could hold my basket with both hands. Evera pressed her side against mine, a subtle show of comfort, likely for us both.
After passing several open storage areas on the right, where the back wall was composed of hard-packed dirt and clay, I stopped before a simple, old door.
The handle, rusted with age, looked nearly ready to fall away.
Just above the handle, a sliding iron bar locked the door in place from the outside.
“Let me assess the situation first—”
“No.” Calix stepped forward, determination behind his objection. “If they …” He swallowed and started again. “If they are alive, they will swarm you, desperate for your blood. I will go first.”
“Calix—” Evera’s voice was filled with worry.
“The boy’s right.” I set my basket down and sighed. Turning from the door, I placed a hand on Calix’s shoulder. “Do not hesitate to use your magic on them, to any extent, if there is no other choice; if they have lost control to the point of being unable to see reason or thought.”
He gave no reply, only lowered his gaze to the dirt floor.
“In life, we are faced with unforgivable truths,” I reminded him, lowering to one knee so he was forced to meet my gaze.
“But when we can, we must aid those we love, do what we can. Even if we cannot right our wrongs.” I could never bring Thatcher back, but I could devote my life to protecting, supporting, and loving my mate and Calix.
Even if I could not be Calix’s father—could not take that place—he was family.
Unfortunately, supporting them both now meant putting them at risk. But what choice did I have?
His brows drew together. “What if we can right a wrong?”
Though I was unsure what path his thoughts trod, I drew my lips into a fine line, considering. “If we have that opportunity, we should always take it.” I lowered my hand from his shoulder and stood, joints stiff from the damp coolness of the underground corridor.
Calix sucked in a deep breath, nodded, and passed the torch to Evera. Her eyes watered in the dancing light.
Lifting the wooden beam, I released the door of its lock.
It creaked as it swung open to silence and encompassing darkness.
My muscles twitched, prepared to pull the door shut and bolt it again if necessary to protect Evera.
The children within, they were— No, I would not call them monsters.
I could not even understand the effects of their withdrawal.
It was different for me. While I’d been a student to Astraea’s lessons, the same as them, I did not rely on any substance to temper my magic.
It was more a matter of training my mind, my body, my reactions.
For them, I suspected it was as well, to an extent, or the lessons would have been in vain.
But the suffering they were experiencing now …
I could not truthfully say I empathized with that.
Raising his chin, Calix took a step into the void and then another, his dark curls disappearing into the black of the room.
Small as he was, his bravery was commendable.
A wave of pride rushed through me, even as fear choked my throat, heated my skin.
If I had to, to protect Evera—if I had no choice—could I bolt the door with him inside?
Another step, and he remained nothing but an outline, like the dark gray clouds silhouetted against a midnight sky.
From somewhere inside, metal scraped, the rattling of chains against stone. My blood ran cold.