Chapter 12 #2
Kienna used to think of Dren as a cruel mentor, teaching the Guardians everything he knew about battle tactics and spotting weaknesses so they could tear down their enemies.
Dren drank every moment of his life that she could remember.
Was he in pain, too? Serving an unjust king, forced to babysit kids with magic to make sure they followed the king’s bidding? What regrets gnawed at Dren?
Dren lived during the Great War. He’d probably have been about Kienna’s age at the time.
She hadn’t taken to drink from her own war traumas, but nightmares flooded her brain.
What sort of nightmares would someone get if they destroyed cities and people?
Took children from men who had nothing else left?
Built unnatural creatures from the dead?
Chopped off heads for the king? The more she thought about it, the more she sympathized with Dren.
The River Storm general was a fucking nightmare, and Kienna forced a little hate into her sympathy to clear herself of the shiver pricking at her skin.
When they reached their seaside apartment, the woodcarver hesitated.
Kienna kept a firm grip on his arm, waiting patiently until he moved again.
Up the stairs and inside, Moira tossed together leafy greens and strawberries.
Citrus coated the air in the room. Tislin stood at the corner of the counter.
They’d been mid-conversation when Kienna entered, harboring the old man.
“Oh! I didn’t realize we were having company,” Moira chirped.
“He needs a bath,” Kienna said. “He’s going to stay with us for a while.”
Calder yanked at her. “I don’t need your pity.”
Kienna ignored him. “Tislin, can you fetch water? Moira, he should eat.”
Tislin nodded and left. Moira quickly filled a plate with the greens, adding a small piece of chicken she had brought from The Elarent House.
Placing it in Calder’s hand, she motioned for him to sit at the table.
It was small, not Kienna’s best work, but it filled their need, though the woodcarver inspected it as he sat.
“Well, thank you for the meal,” he grumbled. “I won’t be long.”
“You will be long,” Kienna scolded. She went into the bathroom to wipe down the tub.
From out in the common area, Calder’s fork brushed against the plate. Good. He was eating. That was a start. After a moment, he said, “I have a cat. I can’t leave her long.”
“I’ll take care of the cat,” Kienna called. “Tell me where to find it, and I’ll send Ruva.”
“That damn wolf?”
“Yes, the damn wolf. She’ll bring the cat something to eat tonight, and then you and I will check on it tomorrow.”
I’m not a damn wolf.
Calder followed it with another scoff. She’d at least worn him down enough to hear the end of that. He eventually told her where to go. All steps in the right direction.
Kienna gave Calder her bedroom for the night—more like forced him there.
Though life returned to his skin after eating a full meal and bathing, he looked worn and ready to return to the rum at any point.
Kienna didn’t want that for him anymore.
He settled in with the makeshift patched blanket while Kienna brought him another cup of water to help cleanse him.
He put on the same clothes he wore that day but seemed not to mind.
He said it was better than going home to the memories of failure waiting for him.
As she shut the door, Calder called for Kienna again. “That chip carving you did on the table,” he mumbled. Kienna turned back to him. “Where did you see that pattern before?”
“I didn’t,” she said. “It was the first thing that came to my mind.”
Calder’s eyes shifted to the corner of the room. “It used to be a beacon of hope to the city. A symbol for the broken that help is coming.”
“Why did they need a beacon?” Kienna inched further into the room. “Was it tied to the rebellion?”
Calder cut directly to her. “The Elvish silenced that for a reason. You be careful not to talk about it anymore.”
Kienna shook her head, dropping to her knees near the bed. “Why was there a rebellion?”
The old man’s brows squeezed into the middle of his face. He almost looked amused beneath the hard center. “Maybe it’s the day’s sobriety talking, but I’m warning you not to explore the rebellion any further. It’s one of the reasons the Great War happened.”
“You can’t give me any more than that?”
This was the conversation she’d been waiting for, the one that hinted the woodcarver could be someone more.
Elowen spoke briefly about the rebellion as well before quickly shifting to other topics.
It never resurfaced naturally. She’d been so eager to get them back on their feet before her husband came home.
Whatever she was involved in, it was clear that Kienna and Moira’s presence strained things.
“Listen, girl—”
“Kienna.”
“The Elvish weren’t blameless in this war.
They were brutal rulers. Human blood was tolerated only so far as we served a purpose.
Any other creatures that shared this land were pushed out.
We weren’t slaves, but given enough time, we could have been.
” Calder shook his head, gently shoving Kienna away.
“I’d like to sleep before I decide to go home and drink. ”
Kienna stood from the floor. She glanced back at him once more, then shut the door, leaving him to rest.