Chapter 52
—Kienna—
It’s awful, Kienna said to Ruva, her hands covering her mouth.
The scars of battle clung to Dove Port. Rooftops collapsed in on themselves, walls braced with splintered timber, and stones piled where homes once stood.
The streets were scorched, remnants of the dead scattered as a reminder of what they endured.
Smoke lifted in thin, stubborn trails from chimneys and open forges, curling upward.
Dove Port may have bent to the war, but it did not break. Not fully.
The first true rays of sunlight spilled across the wounded city, gliding over it in a soft, fragile gold. Kienna exhaled a shaky breath from the bottom of her lungs.
The city needs help, Ruva whined, pushing her head onto Kienna’s arm.
Behind her, Connak cleared his throat. His mind trailed them every step of the journey through the forest. For a commander of stealth, he was piss-poor at being quiet around her.
“Mind telling me why you’re running?” he asked, stepping into view. The light kissed his high cheekbones, illuminating the green in his eyes.
“I’m sure you already know.” Kienna adjusted the charm on her wrist. She turned to see him standing at the edge of the trees. “Mind telling me why you followed?”
Connak shrugged. “I go with the wind.”
Kienna swirled her eyes upward, and Connak’s mouth tugged into a ghost of a smile.
“Does Danek know?” he asked, casual in tone, though the weighted pressure pressed in underneath.
Kienna tilted her head. “Yes, I told him I was leaving.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Ruva stirred beside her, gently pressing the thought into Kienna’s mind. The bonds.
Her stomach tightened. Kienna huffed out a breath, attempting a laugh.
In their moment together, it never crossed her mind to mention that parts of her belonged to others as well.
At the thought, a queasy sensation arose.
She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
“He knows you can…talk to me. Through the mind.”
Connak’s face didn’t soften. “You need to tell him. A bond is eternal, and he should know that you’re connected to our souls. He deserves to understand what that means for him.”
Kienna stared at her boots, kicking lightly at the damp moss underfoot.
“I don’t even understand what that means.
” A breeze stirred through the trees behind Connak, slipping through the canopy and sending a shiver crawling down Kienna’s spine.
She hugged herself. “I don’t want to claim that part of me yet.
” She dared a glance at Connak again to see if her words struck him hard.
They didn’t appear to. These were things he probably already knew from being one that was bonded to her thoughts.
“I need to know who I am away from it first. Which only makes your presence here a little difficult.”
Connak stepped close, staring into the city and its destruction, with the Lysiria to their right and the Goldmere flowing majestically to their left.
He stared at it with pain. “Moira first,” he said, pulling away from the sight.
“We’ll figure out the rest later, but we’ll need to be quick about it.
There’s not a single person in Trinity who will understand your leaving like this. Danek doesn’t count.”
—Moira—
Moira curled up in her bed, staring at the wall. The apartment’s structure remained unsteady, cracked walls and jutted floorboards reminding her of what she had lost. Tislin once lay in this bed, healing his body. She tried to find his scent. Anything to remind her of him. Everything smelled burnt.
When the front door opened, Moira didn’t budge.
If someone wanted to ransack the place, she’d let them.
There was nothing left there she wanted to hold onto.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She almost didn’t turn, but the intruder smelled of calming rain.
Moira let a single tear run down her cheek.
Emotion flooded her when Kienna sat and pulled Moira into her arms. An ember sparked in her chest.
“No one sent word back since the armies packed up. I didn’t know if you were…” She trailed off. Thinking of everyone she loved dying brought her overwhelming grief.
Kienna shushed her. Ruva padded over to place her head on Moira’s lap.
“You’re not alone anymore, Moira,” Kienna whispered. She adjusted her body on the bed to lie down, holding her tightly.
Moira fell into it. “I miss Tislin. I would trade anything with Rhior to have Tislin back.”
“I know.” Kienna stroked her hair.
They lay there for a while. Moira eventually felt comfortable enough, safe enough, to sleep.
She couldn’t before. The walls flickered with a shadow that reminded her of the man she fell in love with, and grief kept her awake.
She knew it wasn’t good for the baby, but she had never known hurt like this.
Despite all the things she endured with the king.
Despite Rhior pushing her away and telling her in a roundabout way that they’d never see each other again… none of it hurt like this.
Tislin was stronger than any man around them, even now. He fought against shadows and willed them to his command. He implored himself to be honorable, even with the darkness seeping through him. He was the best of them all, and he was gone forever.
Kienna’s loving embrace helped Moira ease into the grief.
It took away the lonely ache to know someone was there for her.
Someone remembered her. Moira knew, of course, that Kienna was temporary.
The energy in the air around her danced differently.
Something else commanded Kienna. It was a force Moira would never fight against.
That sort of power held Moira tightly. She sank into the cleansing smell, letting Kienna keep her warm for a moment. Through that warmth, she drifted into a dreamless stupor.
—Kienna—
“They left the city alone,” Kienna gritted through her teeth. “How could Tristian do that?”
Connak sat on the navy couch staring at a broken board. “I can’t make excuses for it, Kienna. We shouldn’t have left. Tristian wouldn’t have, but…” He fluttered his eyes to process whatever thoughts rolled in his head. “We were too consumed with everything else. War brings out the worst in us.”
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“What we came here to do. We’ll send soldiers, I promise, but we need to go back.”
Kienna growled an exhale. “What if I don’t become who you’re hoping I will?”
“We’ll see,” he laughed.
The way he sat there so casually infuriated Kienna.
How could he not feel the weight of her turmoil?
The struggles? She didn’t intend on being a queen of anything—Trinity or the Ashes.
She didn’t want to be Kalyra of Belok. She wanted to be Kienna of nothing.
When she became nothing, maybe she could become something.
It made sense in her head, but she figured she wouldn’t share it with Connak.
You’ve always been something, Ruva huffed, stalking out of Moira’s room.
Anything I am is tainted by River Storm.
Ruva walked to Kienna and licked at her hands, her silver eyes glancing up cautiously. Have you ever thought he tainted you because you are special?
Kienna was told she was special her whole life, while the rug under her was always ready to be pulled.
King Vaerin gave her the Starborn role and had Dren force her to do vile things like burn a woman’s arm to get her to comply with her execution.
Outside of his grasp, Kienna’s trauma nearly swallowed her whole. Coming out of it felt impossible.
“You’re not tainted,” Connak said, leaning back on the couch to close his eyes.
Oh. Can he hear me? Ruva’s shock matched Kienna’s.
“When Kienna’s mind hangs wide open, I can.”
Kienna looked to Ruva. How often did she leave her mind open for him?
There were times she was aware of his presence, and she closed herself off, but was she an open book if she didn’t actively shut him out?
The thought scared her. What could he hear when she didn’t hide herself from him?
She thought back to Danek, her cheeks flushing with heat.
Ruva lowered her head. I’m insulted that we haven’t spoken before now.
Connak smiled. “We shouldn’t be speaking in her mind if we want her to keep us around.”
Kienna shut it down, pushing him out. He sat up and rubbed his hand over his face before standing to look out the terrace.
Near the doors sat a pile of books shuffled around the floor—the ones she took from Elowen.
She tidied the area, stacking each book on top of the other.
The last cover caught her attention. One about spells outside the normal realm of magic.
The book whispered to her, a darkness that wasn’t there before.
Kienna looked out to the terrace where Connak remained, staring out at sea.
I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Little Flame.
It’s only a book. She opened it and flipped through the pages.
There were spells in there to conjure shadows, summon curses, and shade tethers.
Kienna lingered on the shade tether. It spoke of tethering one to another through darkness.
As she read, it sounded like the bonds Connak spoke of, but more volatile.
It allowed a person to bind themselves to the deepest roots of another, something only the power of Sinmara could accomplish. Power that was granted to the Shades.
Who is Sinmara? Kienna asked.
Ruva stared blankly ahead, keeping watch for Connak.
Good girl. She pushed her ash-laden hair over her shoulders and continued reading. This is interesting, she said again as she skimmed over bits of information on breaking bonds. Only the source that tethers two entities together can break it. Otherwise, the tether is permanent.
Kienna clutched onto that, though she wasn’t sure she could do anything about it unless she found the source of the bond itself.
A flicker of guilt seeped in at the thought.
At first, she thought about the bond with Vaerin, but if the magic applied to the darker tethers, perhaps it would apply to the tethers that bound her to Tristian and Connak.
She could rid herself of all the bonds she didn’t choose for herself.
She flipped the page to clear her thoughts. There were other spells and tips on wards. Kienna skimmed it, learning only bits of information about forming, strengthening, and breaking barriers.
Times up, Ruva said.
Kienna closed the book and stuffed it under the others before Connak turned to walk back inside. “Find anything interesting?” he asked.
Kienna busied herself with the other books. “I was trying to clean up for Moira.”
Connak picked up the first book on top, which was, luckily, no longer the spells. “Care to learn about the Edranic language?”
She studied the old leather cover. “Do people still speak it?”
Connak opened it without answering. The pages crackled at his touch, brittle with age. Dust stirred, clogging the air with the scent of ink, parchment, and old memories. “Your name is in here,” he said casually.
Like he expects me to believe he didn’t search for that on purpose. Kienna leaned over to Connak and glanced into the pages anyway. Her name was written elegantly on the page alongside a definition of its origins.
Kienna: an old Elvish word for: EMBERS THAT DO NOT DIE. Some scholars would argue that the name once meant HOPE BURIED IN ASH.
“Give it a rest, Connak. I see what you’re doing.” It took everything in her not to throw the book on the ground. This was exactly why she didn’t want anyone to come with her. “Why does it matter to you if I’m the Ashborn? Or the queen? Or anything at all? Why do I have to be?”
“You don’t,” Connak said, his voice light with amusement. “But don’t you want all the facts before you decide that for yourself? I came here to ensure you didn’t miss the facts while being flooded with old emotions.”
“I’m going to bed.” Kienna stood and went into Moira’s room. Hers was never cleaned after the war. The door remained closed to hide the smell of the dead, and Kienna didn’t dare go in again. She’d help Moira burn everything when ready. She cast one last glance in Connak’s direction.
He held a sparkle in his eye and a half grin on his face.
Kienna scoffed at him and closed the door.