CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The sheets were still damp with sweat when I forced myself to move. My limbs felt leaden and the ache between my thighs indicated that last night was not a typical dream.
I pushed back the heavy covers and rose.
I reached for the tunic draped across the chair and tugged it over my head, wiping at my bleary eyes as I picked up my boots. My fingers struggled with the ties, my hands still waking up from sleep.
When I finally straightened I nearly stumbled over the slick body at my feet.
“Vesuva,” I muttered, steadying myself with a hand against the wall.
One of her heads lifted with her tongue flicking in a slow testing motion. The other remained looped around my ankle like a living shackle of emerald scales.
“Let us go,” I sighed and moved toward the opening of the chamber.
I slipped through the arched threshold of my chamber and out into the winding corridor, where the morning air carried the faint scent of distant incense. A steady flow of Veythar moved through the gloom, their forms shifting like shadows against the stone.
The bustle of activity reminded me of the waking moments in Isvale, of the way the vendors would rattle their carts over the cobblestones just as the first light touched the hills.
A pang of longing tightened my throat. I had never loved the rigid structure of Haelen, but I missed the simple rhythm of my life.
I missed the soil beneath my fingernails and the quiet solace of foraging in the woods.
Those tasks had kept my mind occupied enough to ignore the crushing weight of living under the High Court’s oppression.
I turned away from the main hallway and stepped into the expansive courtyard.
Hundreds of Veythar moved through the space in a delicate dance of normalcy. Some worked at stalls carved directly from the living stone, while others carefully sorted bundles of silver-leafed herbs into rocky baskets.
I paused, watching a young boy approach a vendor whose stall was draped in shimmering, silk-spun tunics. He reached into his pocket and offered a glowing, pulse-warmed stone in exchange for the fabric.
Their lives were so simple.
Vesuva slithered beside me as I walked forward.
I had no plan for the day, but the knowledge that Talon was occupied at the border offered a rare chance to explore the city at my own pace.
I hoped to spend some time by the river, and possibly catch a glimpse of Talon if I walked to the furthest end.
He may not be by the gate, but it was worth trying to catch a glimpse of him in waking life.
A woman at a spice stall froze as I passed, her eyes growing wide as they landed on the massive serpent at my heels. She clutched a pouch of dried roots to her chest and stepped back.
I huffed and kept walking, passing by a glorious fountain the color of midnight. The spout shot out a cobalt tinged water and with every blow, small glimmers floated and landed in the waiting hands of the squealing children standing by.
Smiling, I followed the hollow roar of water through the cavern’s ribs and stopped just by the river bank.
I hopped over the slick stones with a grace I did not know I possessed, Vesuva tickling the back of my calves with her close movements.
I settled onto a cluster of boulders and let out a long breath.
This bank was hauntingly similar to the one in Talon’s cave, yet more vibrant, more wild.
Deep, velvet moss blanketed the stone in a lush carpet, and while Talon’s private river held only the silver flash of fish, this current showcased thick, slimy bodies weaving through forests of glowing green seaweed.
Watching the blur of life moving through the stream, my thoughts drifted to the family I had left behind.
I hoped they knew I was safe. I hoped they could sense that I was happy, a far more vibrant version of myself than the shell of a person I had been in Haelen. Though I wished for nothing more than to be with them again, I knew the possibility was unlikely.
I could never return to Haelen without a bounty being placed upon my head. My family would never truly be safe in my presence again, and the reality of that exile settled like a cold boulder in my gut.
I traced the edge of a glowing blue mushroom cap and let out a sigh.
Life would have been simpler with an Elarthai. I would have been a quiet wife in a quiet village, untouched by the shadows. But I would never have been truly happy.
Despite our recent disagreement, Talon made me happy. He made me feel safe and he made me feel strong, things a typical mortal could never have offered me.
I looked beyond the rushing water, where obsidian spires rose like the teeth of a dragon. My gaze flicked to my right and there stood the massive stone gate, marking the entrance of the city I had arrived in mere days ago.
I stood and dusted off my tunic, my eyes fixed on those bars. Vesuva stayed close behind me, her long tail dipping into the water with every curve of her body, leaving small ripples in the stillness.
When I reached the fence, I gripped two thick obsidian bars between my hands and rose on the tips of my toes.
Beyond the iron was a world that felt both hauntingly close and a thousand years away.
I could see the edge of the Garden of Thrynn, the canopy of the trees swaying like heavy, green velvet, and the corner of the marble wall where Hera and I had been bound.
Leaves in shades of bruised plum and gold scattered across the single hill in view. If I squinted, I could almost see a couple sitting upon the grass, hand in hand.
My lips tugged down as a wave of sadness mixed with relief washed over me. It felt like a lifetime ago that I was the one sitting in the sun, waiting for my life to be handed over to a monster. In a way, it had been, but the man who claimed me was a far cry from the beast I had was taught to fear.
The moment I dropped back onto my heels, the world jarred.
A flash of white tore across my vision, and where there had been only stone a second ago, a woman now stood. Her hair fell down her chest in waves of pale, spectral light.
Her eyes were pinned on me, but they were vacant, unblinking, looking through my soul as if I were nothing more than glass.
Her green gown was tattered at the hem, and her skin was the color of winter bone. I tilted my head, searching for a name or a face in the archives of my memory, but there was only a chilling blankness.
She advanced and her figure flickered, a tree branch passing right through her torso as if she were made of smoke.
I stepped back, my heel catching on Vesuva’s heavy coils. I scrambled onto a large rock to my left, leaping up a set of boulders to get higher, my fingers white-knuckled as I grasped the tops of the bars.
My eyes scanned the border of the sprawling garden, but not even a hair remained in the place of her body.
“Kaelia.”
I whipped my head around, my eyes darting across the sprawling obsidian spires, but only caught the restless glint of lanterns in the distance and restless wildlife darting through the stream.
Not a single person was near me.
I huffed and turned back around, searching for the white-haired woman amongst the emerald hills but seeing only a marble wall amongst greenery.
I blinked and the marble slab seemed to crack beneath my stare, the stone warping as a vision tore through my mind.
Two lanterns casting dancing shadows across the rain-slick cobblestone, held in the hands of a woman in a green gown and a male in a black cloak. They stood by the marble, hushed giggles echoing, their free hands tightly clasped.
I could not blink as the familiar head of white hair turned, flashing the cloaked figure a wide smile that was almost sinister.
Her eyes danced with hunger, a predatory greed the male could not see as he reached for her bent elbow and tugged her petite frame to his chest.
She rose onto her toes to kiss him, and like a lightning strike, a foul, emerald light exploded between them, swallowing them whole.
Shadows dove toward them with shrieks, followed by an animalistic roar and then darkness.
I gasped, the phantom smell of rain fading as my vision blurred. I pressed a hand to my racing chest, frantically swinging my head to rid the dots dancing across my sight.
“Kaelia.”
I turned over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing at the voice tickling my ear. It was close enough to send a shiver down my spine, but when I looked, nobody was around me.
“This is not real,” I whispered, taking a step down from the rocks.
Vesuva followed closely behind me, her tongues lapping at my boots with every hiss.
“Kaelia.”
The whisper was closer now, a caress of freezing air against my neck.
I did not turn. I knew no one was there.
I squeezed my eyes shut and advanced forward, away from the river, my boots striking the stone in a frantic rhythm. I walked along the obsidian fence, heading toward the grand gate.
In the distance, Talon stood, a god carved from shadow.
His eyes were closed and his face was tilted toward the sky. Oily, black ribbons of power poured from his upturned palms, weaving together to build a wall of darkness across the gaps in the iron bars.
Bater stood beside him, barking out instructions I could not hear, his thick finger jabbing at a minor gap in the defence.
“Kaelia.”
My feet froze as I slapped both hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut against the sudden blur of the world around me.
My name pulsed through my veins like a brand, a summons that vibrated in my marrow.
The ground swayed beneath me, tilting and spinning until I had to stagger to keep my balance.
“Kaelia. Kaelia. Kaelia.”
Dozens of whispers began to thread together now, overlapping and rising in a cacophony that drowned out the rush of the river. There was no market noise, no sound of Vesuva’s scales, only the sound of my own name being claimed by voices I did not know.
I opened my bleary eyes, my gaze latching onto Talon. He looked so steady, so untouchable.
I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to drop his magic, to stride across the stone and scoop me into his lap. I wanted him to pat my hair down and chase the voices away with the sheer force of his presence.
“Talon,” I croaked.
My voice was not audible over the choir of my name.
I whimpered and tightened my grip on my ears, my nails digging into the sides of my cheeks hard enough to draw blood.
The voices in my head grew louder, a screaming chorus that tore through my mind. I shrieked, the sound lost to a sudden, violent gust of wind that slammed into me and brought me to my knees.
I forced my head up with a wince and my soul nearly withered at the sight.
The same white hair that had shone in the garden just moments ago was now standing directly behind Talon. She moved like a ghoul, a silver knife held in her hand with the tip aimed precisely for the hollow of his neck.
“No,” I screamed, my throat burning with the force of it.
Talon turned, Bater following his movements, and the shadows evaporated into thin air as his stare landed on me. His eyes widened, navy irises darkening with what I believe to be fear.
But I did not fear for me, but for him. For the moment she swung her arm and buried the dagger into the neck of the man I loved.
I tried to point, tried to warn him of the blade at his throat, but my body was a leaden weight. My forehead hit the damp soil, a shaky breath escaping me as the darkness finally rushed in to claim me.
* * *
The darkness did not lift so much as it thinned, peeling away in jagged layers to reveal a sky that was dulled by a sheet of clouds. A throbbing pulsed behind my eyes, each beat leaving a string of pain in its wake.
I was cradled in a heat so intense and familiar it could only belong to one person.
My head rested in Talon’s lap, his muscular thighs acting as a makeshift pillow while the distant roar of the river provided a churning lullaby.
A shadow fell over me, and I felt a rough, calloused hand move to press against my forehead.
I flinched as the contact sent a spike of pain through my skull and a low growl vibrated through the chest behind me in response. Talon’s hand snapped out, slapping the intrusion away with a sharp crack that echoed off the obsidian bars of the nearby gate.
“Do not touch her,” Talon hissed.
“I am trying to help her, Master,” Bater replied softly.
Talon’s chest heaved beneath me, his thick arm tightening around my waist.
“Get Leona prepared,” he grumbled. “I will bring her to the infirmary immediately.”
I winced, my neck feeling stiff and heavy as I tried to lift my head to find his face.
I needed to see him to ensure the woman with the silver knife had not carved the life from his throat.
Before I could move, a tender hand pressed down on the side of my head to stop my momentum. He guided me back down with a firm gentleness until my face was burrowed deep into the heat of his folded legs.
“Lay still, little flame,” he soothed.
My eyes teared up for no reason at all, the salt stinging my skin as the first sob broke through my lips.
I buried myself closer to him, my nose tucking into the crease of his clothed groin as I sought the scent of him, that intoxicating mix of smoke and ozone.
“I thought you were going to die,” I cried out, the words muffled by the fabric of his trousers.
“Shhh,” he whispered, using his fingers to push away the sweat-dampened hair clinging to my cheeks. “Rest my love, we will get you better.”
The terror began to recede, replaced by the grounding stroke of his thumb against my temple. I let my heavy eyelids fall once more, looking up one last time at the glittering lanterns that hung like dying stars from the erected posts.
With my face pressed against his warmth and his heartbeat steady beneath my palm, I let the world slip away and slept.