Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Lory didn’t know what to react to first: that she was supposedly part of a prophecy or that Khayrivven’s father had made it and been killed for it. Khayrivven had more reasons to hate her than anyone else at Ashthorn.
For a long while, she let his words swirl in her mind, none of them making any sense, especially considering that she was still breathing.
“Why hasn’t the Triad killed me, then? If I’m such a huge threat to the King of Brestolya, why keep me alive?”
True to himself, Khayrivven said nothing, his silence more profound than anything he might have spoken.
“Did they know what I was? Did they know it was fire magic Evven used that night he was killed, or was that just a wild guess?”
Caramel huffed into the silence, earning a small whine from Princess, who kept trotting behind them like a very pretty, very bad-tempered mule.
“Speak to me, Khayrivven.” Lory gathered all her courage to draw from the man an answer that might destroy her.
Slowly, he shook his head. “The Triad has no idea about the prophecy. All they know is that Flame-born are to be executed, unless they prove useful to the academy. They didn’t know what sort of magic.
Not until you burst into flames during the Veiled trial.
” A cool breeze caught in his hair, making the wavy strands dance and shift in a shimmer of black and bronze.
“Ycken chalked the spark of Evven’s power up to the reflection of torchlight.
He believes—or at least believed,” he corrected, “that your brother had the gift of matter manipulation, specifically for metal, because of the way the dagger flew and hit its mark the day he saved you in the streets, and Ycken really wants that sort of magic in his ranks.”
Lory’s stomach filled with lead as Khayrivven continued, “But I knew better.” His eyes flashed a dangerous shade of gray in a glimpse over his shoulder. “I recognized that first, rogue spark of fire—more gold than orange, cooler than the full inferno of Flame-born magic, yet familiar enough.”
The silence blanketing him as he stopped speaking nearly made Lory want to reach out and comfort him.
Had he been alone when he found out what he was?
Had he had any friends to help him through it?
Another Flame-born, perhaps? Or had he been rejected by the people he trusted and attacked in his sleep?
Swallowing the words of consolation gathering on her tongue, she reminded herself of all the secrets Khayrivven had been keeping from her.
He’d been there when Evven died—
And his father had been killed because of a prophecy he’d made. About her. No wonder he didn’t trust her. If Elina wasn’t a lie, and he truly hated Ulder, then Lory might have been his path to taking down the man who is holding his sister captive.
A shiver raked down Lory’s spine as she considered the burden a man had placed on her shoulder almost two decades ago.
She wasn’t only that—a potential ally to save Elina. She was also the reason his father was dead.
Lory swallowed the onslaught of guilt, gritting her teeth.
“Is that why you helped Ycken hunt me down?” The sway of Caramel’s walk made the world blur around her. “Revenge?” Her blood pounded through her veins, the heat and the mountains ahead forgotten. “You wanted to catch the woman who might be the reason your father was executed?”
How she longed for some space, anything to get away from the impossible heat of his body, from the way her own wanted to melt against him as if in a continuous dance.
She needed to clear her head before she walked into those mountains, or the possibility of her death would very soon become a certainty.
Khayrivven shifted in the saddle, leaning back a few inches, his shoulder brushing against her front. “There are many reasons I helped Ycken capture you, none of which I can share with you now.”
Of course—of course, he’d hide behind secrecy when Lory confronted him about what might have been the event impacting both their lives the most. Even if they’d never met, a prophecy announcing the end of a king’s rule was bad for both the prophet and the subject of the prophecy, and if Khayrivven was right—
She didn’t even dare go down that path for fear of where it would take her.
“Name one of them, Khayrivven. Just one,” she demanded through gritted teeth, leaning away from him, even if it meant she needed to use her sore muscles more to stay atop the horse.
By now, her body had adjusted to the rhythm of Caramel’s walk, and she didn’t need to hold on to Khayrivven in order to keep her balance.
Lu’Shen’s words flashed through her mind, then the moment Khayrivven had shown her the torch-shaped brand.
“I was searching for the woman whose existence demanded my father’s death, yes, but not to kill her.
Not for revenge.” With one hand, he reached behind him, fingers brushing her thigh, and the fire in Lory wanted to flicker to life in response.
“At least, not after I figured out I had the same sort of destructive magic within me that my father prophesied the woman would have. I never expected you’d be such a smart, wicked little creature, though.
” A rough, self-deprecating laugh came out of him.
“Let alone that I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.
” Only Khayrivven could make such words sound like a compliment.
As if in confirmation, his hand found her waist, pulling her closer so her front was against his back once more, and the explosive magic within Lory demanded to burst from her skin.
It took a few deep breaths to settle the raging beast within her, urging her to press up closer against him, to wrap her arms around his waist and let her hands glide along his hard front.
No matter the heat between them, he’d hidden so many secrets from her she could no longer tell what was the truth and what was a lie.
“I would have told you about the prophecy sooner, but there’s that little thing where I never know if you’ll kiss me next or rip my heart out. So, call it self-preservation when I keep some details to myself until I know I can trust you.”
Trust—“You? Trust me?” Lory’s emotions were tumbling from surprise to anger to flabbergasted. “You’re the one who’s been hiding all those secrets. You’re the one who’s been lying to me about his motives.”
Khayrivven turned in the saddle, his face close enough to feel the heat of his breath. “I’ve never truly lied to you, Lory.”
All right. “You just lied to me about the mountains, about what I’m to do there.”
“Because the Triad demanded it, not because I wanted to. And I shared the truth despite what they will do to me if they find out.”
Lory tried not to cringe at his reasoning.
“But you never tell the full truth either, do you?” Lory insisted. “You give bits and pieces, but you never truly let me in.”
“I’ve shared some of my most guarded secrets with you.” His eyes flashed dangerously as he reached around his shoulder, tapping the leather pieces of his uniform with his index finger right where the brand was hidden. “I shared things with you that, if the Triad knew I did, would kill us both.”
“Yet, here I am, always learning you kept something else from me.”
Anguish replaced the fire in his eyes. “Some secrets aren’t mine to tell.”
Lory shouldn’t have been surprised by the way his shoulders stiffened as he clammed up in typical Khayrivven manner. Only, this was about life or death—her life or death—and her frustration bubbled to the surface like gas in the fancy wine she’d seen rich folks sip in their ostentatious homes.
“Like that I’ll be soon fending off half of Ashthorn with my bare hands?
I hope you’ll sleep better at night because you gave me a fighting chance.
” The flames in Lory’s stomach strained to break free, but she swallowed them in one big gulp, as she did with the dozens of accusations building on her tongue.
Now wasn’t the time. She’d rather preserve her energy to prepare for what lay ahead, so she clamped her mouth shut, ignoring the feel of Khayrivven’s powerful form in front of her.
For a long while, the horses’ hooves on the ground were the only sound interrupting the loaded silence as Khayrivven spurred Caramel into a gallop and they flew across the terrain, sand and rocks flying by.
When the mountains finally turned from a distant silhouette into a thing of rocky details interrupted by lines of leafy greenery, and Khayrivven slowed them back to a walk, his head slightly bowed as he turned it to the side as if to give Lory a view of his expression when he told her, “I’m quite invested in your survival, Elory Vednis, and not just for my own, selfish reasons. ”
He didn’t say anything else, and Lory didn’t ask because they were galloping again, and at the foot of the mountains, wooden barracks came into view, their towers manned with men in brown uniforms and their shouts indicating they’d been expecting the captain and the ashling sooner.
The sentries saluted as Khayrivven slowed Caramel down between the towers, their announcements sounding into the makeshift village at the edge of the mountains.
Lory should have paid attention to the soldiers jumping up from crates and barrels to watch the new arrivals, but she couldn’t look away from the line of trees at the back of the camp.
Real, tall trees. Not just a small oasis in the desert, but a forest spreading along the foot of the rocks that marked the beginning of the steep incline.
Khayrivven guided Caramel into the center of the camp, where he stopped in front of the tallest building this rundown place had to offer.
Rundown, yet better kept than any place Lory had called home before Ashthorn—and whether the questionable academy deserved to be named that remained yet to be determined.