Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
RAE
He’s standing on the dock, tall and brooding, the wind toying with his black hair and the hem of his dark shirt. He lifts a hand to shove the strands out of his eyes and with his sleeves rolled up, I can see the play of impressive muscles in his corded forearm.
I stare at him, scanning that tall, powerful frame I’d mapped with my hands last night, the tousled, unruly hair I’d touched, and the arrogantly handsome face that makes my heart trip and my belly tighten with need. That strange sense of familiarity hits me again and I fight it.
Something is off, I realize as Jai strolls toward us. From the first moment I laid eyes on him, back when I was rescued from the swamps, he’d moved like water, each motion perfectly controlled and powerful.
Yet now his limbs seem uncoordinated, his steps lurching.
What in the world happened to him? He isn’t dressed in the white uniform we were given, instead he seems to be dressed in the formal clothes he had on last night, now rumpled and wrinkled.
That’s not all. As he approaches, I see that his dark eyes are glassy, and the light-hearted grin he’s sporting doesn’t reach their depths. His whole expression looks painted on, a mask he’s wearing. A wall he’s erected.
And it shouldn’t hurt my soul, not after everything that happened. How did we manage to get so entangled in a matter of days?
He stumbles a step, throwing my heart into my throat. I make an abortive movement to grab him. I’m too far for that and I stop myself before I do.
He finds his balance the next moment, planting his booted feet more securely on the paved floor, and yet, for all his weird, worrisome behavior, he hums with power, his shadows writhing around him.
“Athdara.” The telchin frowns. “There you are. Collect your shadows and control yourself.”
Chiding the King’s Sword as if he’s a boy, which is kind of funny, and… I hadn’t realized Jai’s shadows had been prowling about. They are turning into a vortex around his legs, snapping at anyone getting too close like snakes as he makes his way through our group, one lazy step after another.
“Whatever you say, telchin,” Jai drawls, sounding amused, coming to a stop before the bearded priest. “By all means, tell me how you propose to fucking make me do anything.”
The telchin grips his staff so hard the wood creaks. His bushy brows lower, and I swear lightning sparks through his long gray beard. “I don’t need to control you, Athdara. Because that’s something you need to do yourself.”
Jai waves a negligent hand. “Don’t you ever choke on all those huge pearls of wisdom you cough up? Have a care.”
I swallow a shocked laugh.
The telchin turns away to face the barge awaiting us, dismissing Jai’s behavior. I mean… this is different. The Jai I’ve known over the past few days has been brooding, quiet and decisive. As for Phaethon, he’s an asshole. But this Jai… is playful. Insolent. Damn rude.
As if he doesn’t give a damn anymore.
Then again… I recall the way he’d sat at the formal banquet, beside the king. Sprawled in his chair, looking bored. And then his shadows sweeping everything off the table and lashing at the walls and doors like a cry of anguish.
What am I missing? Is this insouciant facade just another one of his masks? Is it the calm before a storm? Or is it something else entirely?
Turning away from the telchin, Jai starts toward us with lurching steps.
But Axwick steps in his way. “What is this?” he demands. “You went and got drunk before the trial? Are you serious?”
Jai lets out huff of nearly soundless laughter. He lifts a hand marked with those black swirls that also decorate his neck and cheekbones, flicks it, and a flight of colorful draks starts circling lower. “Does it matter? I’m not a mere human like you, remember?”
I frown.
“Mighty is the hand that wields the king’s sword,” Mera sneers. “Mighty drunk, that is.”
“Shush,” Amaryll says, shooting me a quick, apprehensive sideways look. “Don’t anger him.”
Is he angry? If the shadows are a mirror of his state of mind, then yes. They whisper at the edge of my hearing, the whispers rising into screeches and wails. How isn’t he stark raving mad from that cacophony of noise?
Isn’t he, though? I can almost hear Arkin’s voice in my mind, saying, “Told you he’s crazy.”
I just never realized why. Could it be that it’s not the second soul he carries inside his mind that costs him his sanity—Phaethon, ancient Eosphor, an alien and powerful creature who can control dragons—but the noise?
Well, crazy or not, he’s too powerful a presence to ignore.
With difficulty, much more difficulty than is healthy, I tear my gaze away from him, drawing a deep breath.
But as I attempt to fill my lungs, he comes closer and his scent of smoke and leather infuses the air.
That hint of bitterness and sweetness underneath the other, musky layers seeps into my airways and awakens my body.
That familiar heat flows through my veins, under my skin. It travels through me, bypassing my rational brain and pooling between my legs.
“I see the festivities have begun,” Jai mutters, his mouth twisting to one side. “Hurray.”
“If you are inebriated,” the telchin says, scowling at Jai’s back, “you may be barred from the second game, and the human you replaced will be thrust back into the trial. Is that your wish?”
“Thrust?” Jai laughs. “Yeah, let’s talk about thrusting.”
“Pull yourself together,” Axwick hisses, grabbing his arm. “You can’t be barred from the games. You are our only hope!”
I almost snort out loud. Though of course, Jai saved some lives in the first trial. They hope he’ll do it again.
But the way Jai’s lips pull back into a snarl isn’t funny or promising. “You…” He shoves the man away, sending him stumbling. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
What’s going on with him?
The telchin marches past me, his feet making no sound on the paved terrace. “Let me look at you, dragon summoner.”
He’s almost as tall as Jai, all seven feet or so of him. In his robes, he had somehow seemed smaller before, but now they’re facing each other, tall like pillars, they see eye-to-eye.
But when the telchin reaches for him, Jai jerks back. “I said… don’t fucking touch me.”
“I wasn’t asking for permission.” The telchin strikes like a snake, grabbing Jai’s chin and sniffing at his mouth, not caring.
“Damn you,” Jai hisses.
“Hm…” The telchin sniffs again right before Jai shoves him off for good and takes a swing at him.
He leans back to evade Jai’s fist. “Not drunk. And too late for bloodletting. This isn’t looking good, Athdara.
You might lose control. You should have gone to the king.
Now you’ll have to deal with him yourself, won’t you? ”
“Fuck you.” A thin crimson line flows from Jai’s left nostril, coating his lips. His fist is still raised, all nonchalance gone from his stance. He’s shaking, and his shadows rise over his head like a spiky crown as he bares his teeth in a feral snarl. “What choice do I have?”
“None.”
What is he talking about? And why is Jai shaking like that?
“Look at me,” the telchin says. “Listen to me.”
“Listen to you? Ah, iereus…” Jai gives a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “You have no power over us.”
Us. Which means…
“Greetings, Phaethon.” The telchin takes a step back, brow furrowing. “I see the king didn’t exorcise you last night.”
“The king was too busy last night,” Jai drawls, his eyes flashing with gold, “to bother with me. Which was a refreshing change.”
The telchin sighs. “Just… don’t get Athdara killed today. The king won’t like it.”
“Are you jesting?” Jai straightens, his head tilting back, mouth setting into an arrogant smirk. “The king’s purpose and mine align. And for our plans to succeed, I need this body alive.”
“Don’t forget his mind,” the telchin says, and I suddenly become aware of the hush that has fallen over the terrace during this strange exchange.
“And you, gate guardian, don’t forget that I’m not the one throwing myself recklessly at danger. That would be him.”
“Indeed.” The telchin strokes his long, gray beard. “And since the king was busy, shall I make you bleed instead?”
Jai throws his head back and laughs, his black hair a silken ripple, his shadows coalescing into his black armor, the hilts of his two swords forming over his shoulders—then fading away again.
His laughter stops abruptly, his head coming up. His dark eyes glimmer. “Keep your hands and blades to yourself.”
So why did he laugh? There’s nothing funny about all this. Nothing at all.
Make him bleed? Is he threatening Jai? Bleed instead of what? What does the king have to do with exorcising Phaethon, and how does he do it?
“Nobody can chase me out of this body,” Jai growls, his eyes glowing dark. “Not even you, telchin, and you know it.”
Ah, there is my answer. Inexplicably, my chest grows tight. After what the king told me, I shouldn’t care about Jai, shouldn’t let the intimate moments we had affect me like this, and yet…
Athdara Two-souled. I can’t begin to imagine what it feels like to have Phaethon inside his head. What if he—?
Jai jerks. It’s an unnatural, animal-like movement that raises the fine hairs on my arms and makes my scalp prickle. He jerks again, growling, eyes closing as he lifts a small, bejeweled dagger—and drags its edge over his thigh.
A hiss escapes him, and it’s impossible to see given the black hue of his pants, but it seems to me a darker patch is spreading there.
“Shall I make you bleed instead?”
Jai grunts, lashes fluttering, and yes, the pale blade of the dagger is smeared with crimson. He brings it to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick at the blood. “I don’t need the king’s fucking help. Didn’t you say I should take care of it myself?”