CHAPTER 28
THE A’KORI PALACE
Present Day
Awri didn’t speak a word to me on the way back to the palace, and she hadn’t said a word when we’d gone to bed. Not that she needs to. Even if she wouldn’t look at me, her anger was clear in the set of her shoulders and her rigid spine.
Luckily, she’s in the shower when I wake in a tremoring sweat, heaving off the side of the bed. I’d gone to sleep on an empty stomach, but that does nothing to alleviate the sickening feel of the bile that sears my throat.
It’s the worst my dreams have been since the day I recall having my first, the day I met Bagya in the woods.
I can still taste the droplets of blood in my mouth, still feel the heat of the woman’s last breath on my cheek, the press of the demon as it coiled around me.
I bunch the silk sheets in my fists and will them to stop shaking.
Safe. You’re safe.
Taking a deep steadying breath, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, collapsing onto the floor the moment I try to stand.
I grasp my head as the world spins. My ears ring loudly, the sound swelling and ebbing like a pulse, and I swipe at a tickle beneath my nose only to find my fingers coated in a thin sheen of blood.
Tig rushes to my side, her green eyes full of worry.
“I’m all right,” I assure her, “Just a little lightheaded.”
As usual I hadn’t seen the sprite come into the room. For the first time I begin to wonder just how often she watches me completely unseen. The water shuts off in the washroom and Tig glances at the doors, then back at me.
“Really, I’m all right,” I say.
My eyes flick to the tiny black blooms with the purple hue growing in her hair. Her hand reaching up to touch one when she shakes her head. I nod. They aren’t ready.
“Go.” I tip my head toward the window, and she vanishes with a great amount of hesitation.
I fail to regain my feet before Awri glides into the room. Her eyes begin to slide over my face dismissively, her head turning away, and I start to think she’s decided not to speak to me for another day, maybe more. Until her head whips back toward me when she registers that I’m on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I take another pass at the blood drying beneath my nose and nod. “I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded.”
She bolts to the door and yells to someone across the hall, “Have Caden brought here immediately.”
“That is unnecessary,” I argue weakly, “It’s just a bloody nose. Why would you call a healer for a bloody nose?”
I don’t mention that my ears are ringing or that the spin of the room has been replaced by a considerable pounding in my head.
I pull myself off the floor, making a show of appearing better than I feel.
Awri follows close behind when I make my way into the washroom, and it takes everything I have to steady my legs as I walk.
“You really think I’d prefer the pain of his healing to a bloody nose that will be gone by the time he arrives?” I quirk a brow at her.
She shrugs. “Xey made me promise to call for Caden if you ever described yourself as being ‘fine’.”
Controlling ass.
I’ve barely dressed when Caden bursts into the room, a shade paler than he was the last time I saw him.
Heaving a deep breath, he looks me over expectantly, as if he thought I might have lost a leg.
Awri marches me into the main room, sitting me down on a large settee close to the windows.
The look on his face when Awri describes my condition may be worth the pain of having him brought here.
I can’t help the chuckle that slips past my lips when he frowns.
“A bloody nose?” he asks.
Awri rolls her eyes. “Just try and heal her. Xeyvian—”
“Say no more.” Caden halts her with a wave of his hand, before rubbing his palms together to warm them and laying them against my temples. I brace, preparing for the pain of his gift. Then, nothing. Not so much as a pinching sting of power. He eyes me quizzically and I shrug.
“Shouldn’t it hurt to heal a bloody nose?” Awri questions the male.
“It should. Yes,” he says.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you.” I narrow my eyes at my friend.
And I’m sure she isn’t joking when she says, “A little.”
“If she isn’t injured, why is she bleeding?” she asks the healer.
“Maybe it’s Xeyvian’s gift?” I suggest.
Caden’s eyes widen when he asks Awri, “He used his gift on her?”
“No,” she says, “Nothing like that.”
Both look at me thoughtfully as Awri explains the transfer of Xeyvian’s power. Eventually, Caden agrees, “It’s possible. Mortal bodies are not made to contain the gifts of the feyn. Much less a power like his. In any case, I don’t sense anything that needs mending.”
He looks me over once more before heading for the door as he says, “Summon me again if she gets worse.” Though as he departs, I wonder why he would even bother, if there’s nothing to be done.
“You should rest today,” Awri offers.
I think I’d like to, but I have already risked one night without the release of my demon and find that I am quite unwilling to attempt it again, unless it is completely necessary.
As the general isn’t here to assist me, I need to spar, or at least head to the kitchen and acquire more of Kishek’s tea. I will need something to drive away the darkness before Awri ends up on the wrong side of one of my episodes.
“I’d like to keep training with Riah.” Before she can argue I add, “If I get another bloody nose I’ll come straight back here and stay in bed all day.”
The promise satisfies her enough that she reluctantly takes me to train. Though after a few choice words from my friend, Riah is taking it easy on me and a training session fit for a child won’t do a thing to temper the demon inside me.
Awri keeps our session short, and I can’t tell if she’s simply worried or if my fatigue is that obvious. She takes me back to the general’s chambers without asking, and I nearly fall asleep in the tub. I haven’t taken a nap in years but today feels like a good day for it.
It’s dusk when Awri nudges me awake, offering me a small bowl of stew for dinner.
I try to give her a reassuring smile when I note the creases marring her features.
But all I can manage is a few bites before I set the bowl aside, muster the energy to slide on a sleeping gown, and crawl back into bed.
I wake to the sound of a deep, chilling shriek in the hall and my feet are moving toward the door before I’ve even considered what I’ll find outside. Awri rushes out behind me, falling to her knees beside Kishek, who lays in a crumpled heap on the floor.
“Call for Caden!” I yell to the guard at the end of the hall.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Awri cries, pulling his head into her lap, smoothing back his dark brown hair. “Not yet,” she whispers into his ear, “Not yet.”
I want to comfort her, reassure her, but what can I do? Tears begin to well in her eyes as she rocks the male’s head in her lap, her lip quivering as she tries to coax a reply from his limp form.
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask.
Her eyes are like daggers when she opens her mouth to reply, interrupted when Caden rounds the corner. I suppose, given my condition throughout the day, I shouldn’t be surprised he remained close by. It’s hard to fault him for it under the current circumstances.
The healer runs to lay his hands on Kishek, skidding to his knees beside the male. A deep hiss of pain comes from Kishek’s parted lips when the healing power is released into him. Awri giggles nervously, tears streaming freely from her eyes.
“He’ll be all right. He’s just sleeping now,” Caden assures her.
Awri nods, wiping her cheek.
Caden grips her arm, a serious look on the healer’s face when he says, “He needs rest.”
Again, she nods, and I’m not sure the female can summon the words to reply.
“I’ll watch him until morning,” Caden promises, summoning four guards with the snap of his fingers.
With minimal direction they hoist the male overhead, carrying him off toward Awri’s chamber, Caden in their wake.
It must take every ounce of willpower at the female’s disposal to not follow after him when he disappears beyond the doors of her room.
She coils her silken dress in her fists, releasing the fabric and smoothing it as she heaves a deep breath.
Forcing a weak smile in my direction, she says, “Go back to bed. I’ll be right behind you. ”
Rising from the floor, I walk back to the bedroom, only to stop the moment Awri tears down the hall in a rage and throws open a door halfway down the corridor.
“Enough!” she yells.
A long panel of light illuminates the hall where the door is open wide. The general’s voice sounds from within the room.
“Awri,” he says, by way of greeting.
“I will not continue to risk my mate for this, Xeyvian!” she bellows.
Mate? Kishek.
I chastise myself for not expecting it. Though I hardly understand what a mate means to the feyn.
“Tell her,” she demands, “Tell her or send her away.”
“I agree with Awri, Xey,” Riesh interjects, “She’s strong, stronger than you give her credit for. She can take it, and you can’t protect her from this forever.”
“She’s not ready,” the general says.
“Ready or not, she is weak in her ignorance,” Awri spits, “and if you choose to keep her here that affects us all.”
“I’ve received a letter from Nurai. She will be attending the masque. We will wait until she arrives and see if your gifts combined will be strong enough.” There is a clear ring of finality in the general’s voice when he says it.
“Nurai should be strong enough on her own,” Riesh says hesitantly.
“I’m not so sure anymore,” the general answers.
“You still can’t access her?” Awri asks, some of the heat waning from her voice.
“A little more every day, but it has nothing to do with the strength of my gift. It’s her, she’s changing, trusting…”