Chapter 33
—Moira—
“Oh, Moira!” Kienna flew through their little apartment, books in tow.
She set them on the counter and beamed. “You’ll never guess—” She halted as Moira’s tear-stained face came into view.
She was quick to wipe them as she sat on the floor of their apartment, hiding the evidence, but Kienna had already seen too much.
“I’m okay,” Moira said immediately. “I should get ready to head to The Elarent House.”
Kienna sat next to her on the floor and placed her golden hand into Moira’s, an unexpected warmth flowing through her.
Shock waved through Moira. She knew Kienna could push little spurts of magic, but she’d been warned to stop.
No one understood what it all meant. It’d be too dangerous to assume she could use her power.
But Kienna appeared devilish as she could tell Moira felt the warmth.
“What’s your news?” Moira asked.
“It can wait.” Kienna smiled. “How can I help you?”
Moira’s eyes, dark and deep, scanned Kienna for any sign that she could share what was truly bothering her. “I kissed Tislin.” She burst into another sob.
Kienna squinted her eyes. Her lips parted as if she were figuring out what to say. “Was he that bad at it?”
Moira laughed and sobbed at the same time. She was so tired of keeping secrets. If she’d confided in someone else, she could have avoided this overwhelming weight of guilt on her chest. She had less than four months left before she would give birth. Exhaustion swept over her.
Moira sighed. “Did you know Rhior in River Storm?”
“I knew of him,” Kienna said. “From the merchant square, right?”
“Yes.” In the past, thinking of Rhior sent shivers through her.
Their relationship was never perfect, but she gave herself to him and settled on being supportive.
She was so proud of how hard he worked to succeed in his trade, but now she dreaded thinking of it.
“He was the best in the spice trade. To me, anyway. Quiet man.”
A smile played on Kienna’s lips. “His spices were terrible.”
“Yes, they were.” Moira laughed, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I thought I loved him, though.”
Kienna sat up straight, leaning closer to Moira as if she hadn’t heard her. Burning questions seemed to formulate in seconds, her eyes flickering to Moira’s stomach as if she managed to find the last clue to a mystery.
“He’s my husband,” Moira assured her, her hand floating gently to her womb as little feet pattered against the wall.
Kienna’s mouth fell open. “How long were you going to hide that?”
“Forever,” Moira stated. “He pushed me out of River Storm to follow you.”
Kienna gasped, teasing, “I thought it was because you liked me. Though it makes way more sense why you haven’t gone to any battle with us.” She gasped. “And you kissed Tislin?”
Moira nodded, the shame too much for her to bear.
How would she have felt if Rhior kissed other women?
Maybe he already was. He was never too attached to Moira, and now that she thought about it, she was no longer attached to him.
She probably wouldn’t care anymore. And Tislin was so nice to her, so gentle and sweet.
He called her Sunbeam, which made her literally burst with light.
Kienna was being far too warm, too nice to her. She deserved to be scolded.
“I’m so ashamed. I’m a terrible person, but Rhior didn’t come with me.” Moira wiped her face. “I’m so lonely and scared to do it all alone.”
Kienna pulled Moira into an embrace, calming her from her fears. “You have me, you know. You’re not alone. And surely that’s not the only reason you kissed Tislin.”
Moira pondered this. Was it only because Tislin was so nice to her that she gravitated to him?
Or did he consume her mind with a burning ember that would never die out?
She had meant what she said to him outside The Elarent House.
Moira lowered her face back to her palms. “I wanted to kiss Tislin. He’s so—”
“Archaic?”
Moira slapped Kienna’s shoulder. “Tender.”
“Why didn’t Rhior come with you?”
The room shifted, a cold draft fluttering through the terrace. “He was too scared of what was out here. He told me to go and then cowered. For all I know, the king could have gotten him and killed him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he knew about us. Still, I wish I knew, if only to ease my mind.”
“Knew if he were dead?”
“Shit, Kienna, no. If he were alive. He’s still my husband, Tislin or not.” Moira squeezed Kienna’s hand. It was endearing how much she wanted to help. It gave her a purpose. “It’s okay. It’s a loss. I can be happy alone. I know I can.”
—Kienna—
Kienna exhaled deeply through her nose. She scanned Moira, thinking back to how helpful and nurturing she had been to everyone. She never fought or spoke pain into a world full of it. Her heart crumbled at the thought. She knew what she wanted to do, but the drumming of her heart kept her at bay.
Her hand rummaged over her wrist, fumbling with the bracelet more than once. Moira’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything, a quiet hope pulling her closer to Kienna. That’s when Kienna knew. She pulled the bracelet off and placed it on the floor.
Kienna, Ruva scolded.
She shut her mind as a loud growl sounded outside the terrace. “If something goes wrong,” she said, pointing to her charm, “put it back on me.”
Moira agreed, taking the charm for safekeeping. “Thank you.”
“I’ve never done this before,” Kienna warned.
“I literally read about it today. Connak said it could be dangerous, but I can send my mind back to River Storm. Sort of like a vision, but one I control. I need a tether to help me find him. Something of his.” Kienna’s eyes floated to Moira’s stomach, the bump rounding over her legs as she sat with them crossed in front of her.
“Oh, please,” Moira agreed, placing Kienna’s hand over it for her.
Kienna’s heart skipped when a kick acknowledged her.
She almost pulled back but steadied her mind.
Her fingers laced around Moira’s womb, feeling the little life floating so peacefully.
This heartbeat would be her anchor—a thread to follow through blood, carried across the realms. She stitched apart the pieces that were Moira, natural and true, and pushed into the parts of Rhior.
Those parts were odd, whispering of desert heat.
Her mind soared through the skies and landed behind a familiar wall.
Her body formed next, not truly there, but she could sense it all.
Cold hit her first like icy fingers brushing along her ribs, then came the noise.
River Storm rose around her as reality: The creaking of metal carts, the barking of orders, boots slapping against cobblestones.
It was disorienting and intimate, the sounds of a life she had left echoing back with dull urgency.
Kienna rummaged through the city. The castle loomed tall and domineering in contrast to the past when she’d thought it powerful and regal.
The gray city. Kienna could easily see why Moira needed to be away from there—a woman blessed by the sun in a city with none at all would only wither and die.
Her hands trembled in Moira’s. A nudge from Ruva pulled at Kienna, but she was already in, walking through the streets of the villages.
They were lined row by row with nothing special, nothing different.
She hesitated on the only home she’d ever known there, desperately wanting to run inside to Maren and Jacob, to pull them out with her mental fortitude.
Kienna stopped herself. She was there for Moira.
Plus, what good would it do? She wouldn’t be able to take them with her through the projection.
She cleared the villages and crept closer to the city square, a place bustling with people dragging their feet with carts or running to their next assigned duty. Everyone appeared sickly with pale skin and low eyes. It wasn’t the River Storm she remembered.
“Where can I find him?” Kienna asked.
“Rhior would be in the merchant square around this time. He was loyal to his work,” Moira whispered to her.
Kienna brushed the tickle of Moira’s voice away, focusing on weaving her mind through the docks above the river. “I think I see him,” she mumbled, then stopped with a gasp. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Moira exclaimed.
Kienna squatted behind pillars as if she had truly been there in the city.
Her eyes landed on Rhior, surrounded by soldiers, with his spices scattered along the planks.
Kienna couldn’t tell what was happening, but she knew she couldn’t report back to Moira without help.
“Hold on,” she whispered. She thought hard, pulsing her mind as far as she could, calling for Connak.
Begging for him, for his presence. She’d never conjured him like this before, barely understanding how it worked, but she hoped that if she threw out enough emotional pleas, he would feel her and come knocking.
Moments later, his presence dripped into her mind like sweet nectar. His image appeared before her, his lush green eyes feasting on her with a devilish grin. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”
“Shh,” Kienna implored.
Connak looked around, his body tensing as his fists gripped tightly against his legs. “I just spoke to you hours ago. Why are we in River Storm?”
“Don’t be mad,” Kienna started.
Connak exhaled deeply, a twitch forming above his lips. “I don’t like where this is going.”
Kienna explained quickly and quietly, much to Connak’s dismay. He chastised her multiple times, especially once she got to the part about removing her charm.
“He’s in trouble,” she said, pointing to Rhior, who was now being hauled by the guards out of the square.
“What do you expect me to do?” Connak asked in a clear tone of annoyance.
“I need you to save him,” Kienna pleaded.
Connak scoffed. “I’m in Trinity, running missions for Tristian. How would you think I could do that?”
“One of the Blades, maybe? I don’t know.
Connak, please. Moira is strong, and she’ll come out of this, but…
I would have left it alone if he were safe.
That’s all she wanted to know.” Kienna didn’t know why she felt obligated to save Rhior.
Maybe it was because he was the father of Moira’s baby, and she’d lived too many days where children didn’t have their father.
None of them did. It would have been a shame to bring another baby into the world without one.
Connak’s eyes softened as his gaze burned into Kienna with a sadness she hadn’t expected. “We only have one shot at River Storm. That one shot was for Maren and Jacob.”
“I know,” Kienna said, grasping the weight of it all. All she could do was trust that Connak would figure it out and that he meant what he said when he told her Vaerin wouldn’t hurt her family. “I’m giving it to Moira.”
“Kienna,” Connak growled, the gentleness disappearing.
He placed his hands in the air as if wanting to grab her.
Shake her. Do something to tire out his frustration.
She pleaded with eyes so big that she could see his anger subsiding.
Connak shook his hands in the air and pulled himself out of her mind with a suddenness that nearly disoriented her had she not been so resolved to stay in River Storm.
“Was that a yes?” she asked.
River Storm cleared, bare when it had been full. Kienna’s magic was fading in and out, and she sensed it might be dangerous if she continued. The need to pull away and unhand Moira itched at her quickly.
Something else stole her attention, fighting her to go back.
Fear surfaced. “Let me go,” she demanded.
“I’m glad to see you in my first home,” Vaerin’s voice echoed. “Tethered to a baby to get here. Moira’s, I presume.”
“Stop.”
“I can feel its power inside of yours. It’s strong.” Vaerin’s words slithered like a snake around Kienna’s body, licking her mind. “How delightful.”
Then, he let her go, but his voice lingered with smoke.
As Kienna reeled back into her body, she caught one final image—a scorched corridor inside the castle, walls blackened, banners tattered.
The echo of footsteps that weren’t hers.
A burning scent, sharp and bitter, clung to her thoughts. War was upon them now.
Kienna’s mind floated back to her bright apartment.
Birds chirped on the terrace, speckles of sun floating around as it made its descent into the sea.
Kienna panted frantically, snatching her charm away from Moira.
She quickly placed it back on her wrist, chest pounding as she searched her friend for any hint that she could have hurt her or the baby.
The humming of magic slowed to a stop inside Kienna’s body.
Moira sat in front of her, eyes wide and inquisitive. She was safe. “What happened?” she asked, reaching for Kienna. “Is Rhior okay?”
Kienna gulped. “I made a mistake.”