Chapter 33 Rae #2
And then a howling fills my head, robbing me of all conscious thought.
It’s an ululation, strident and piercing, occasionally dropping into a vibration that makes my eyes throb, then rising again, filled with fury and accusation.
It has a rhythm that pounds against the inside of my skull, a war drum, but above it flows this relentless wave of sound that is driving me crazy.
I find myself on my knees, retching, my back on fire, my head a mass of pain.
Above the noise, I hear—or feel?—the sound of each lash falling on Jai’s back.
And then the king shouts, “Phaethon! Can you hear me?”
“Fuck you.” Jai spits a wad of blood and phlegm. He must have bitten his tongue not to scream. “Fuck you to the pits of the underworlds.”
“Another twenty lashes,” the king says.
“No!” I wail. “Enough!”
“Come on.” Arkin hauls me to my feet and pulls me away. I’m too shaken to resist this time.
“He will die,” I sob. “He will die!”
“He won’t. Told you, he’s a hard one to kill. Not sure his mind won’t break, but that’s nothing new.”
“Arkin, you’re not helping.”
“I know. Come on. You’re covered in his blood.”
I hadn’t realized it had splashed me. I shiver. He’s my mate. He’s Mars. And the first thing that happened when I found out was that he was tied to a pole and lashed half to death.
Another lash falls.
Another line of fire cuts into my back.
I shouldn’t be feeling his pain so acutely, should I? Our bond isn’t complete, nor will it ever be as long as I have the king’s mark on my skin. What changed?
“Phaethon!” the king calls out again when the lash stops its gruesome toil. “Astar!”
Jai groans, his head falling forward. Sweat and blood are dripping from his soaked black hair. “Stop yelling, my head really hurts.”
“Another ten lashes,” the king snarls.
“This is insane,” I shout. “You don’t need this to call Phaethon!”
“Then how would you call him forth, human?” The king bares his teeth at me. “Let us see you do it.”
I shake my head, my eyes hot. “Phaethon won’t appreciate you torturing Jai after—”
“Phaethon hates you. He hates all humanfolk.” He snaps his fingers at the flagellator who lifts the whip again. “You have no idea what he’d appreciate.”
The burly man is also splashed with blood, his arms, face, and beard painted crimson, the whip dripping with it. I quail at the thought of seeing Jai’s back, of how much pain he must be in. He has to be in agony if the echoes I’m getting are any indication.
“Phaethon!” the king calls a third time. “Show yourself or I might just kill this vessel of yours.”
“No!” I scream and struggle to get back to Jai. “Stop!”
But Arkin hauls me further away, and in the wake of my scream, a hush falls.
The flagellator is holding the whip up high. Its tails are dripping blood. Jai’s blood. Somehow that tiny sound is augmented, filling my ears.
Drip, drip, drip.
The king has lifted his hand, stopping the lashings.
Then, after a small eternity, Jai lifts his head. His eyes are flecked with burning gold.
“You will not kill Jai,” he says, his voice deep and clanging. “You need me, and I need him. So cease before I change my mind.”
“You need me, too,” the king says, “Phaethon.”
Phaethon wrenches his hands free of the bonds. The vines snap and fall to the flagstones, writhing, then falling still. “Are you so sure about that?”
The king’s expression is haughty. “We have to talk.”
“You should have found a nicer way to invite me for a drink.” Phaethon pushes off the pole and shakes his head like a dog, spraying blood all around. Some droplets land on my face and I flinch.
The king’s eyes narrow. “Phaethon—”
“She comes with us.”
“What?” The king gestures and the guards approach. “You—”
“Call your dogs back, king. I am here of my own volition, though you went too far. By Eos, you went way too far.”
“Athdara was keeping you a prisoner, I had to—”
“Had to? Had to?” Phaethon steps toward the king but only manages to fall to his knees. I jerk toward him but massive shadows fall over the yard. Not living shadows, this time, I realize, but the shadows of monsters circling overhead.
A collective gasp goes through the gathered crowd when, with a screech, a drak passes over us, swooping low, then another.
I’m gaping at Phaethon.
“As for the prisoner comment… you seem to forget my powers.” Phaethon glares at the king through his black, soaked hair.
Blood runs down his cheeks like tears, over the dark blooms that seem to gleam, metal-like.
“You know there is a fine balance between my vessel and I. You have known us for a century! Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending this wasn’t anything else but a petty ploy at revenge because Athdara played you, went against your orders and got the girl.
Because he humiliated you and you want to punish him for it. Is this how you pretend to be my ally?”
Why would the king care if Jai is with me? I thought his only motivation in deceiving me was to put that mark on me.
The draks continue circling overhead, now joined by darakins, and I think of Remi.
“Aethry!” he responds instantly in my mind. “What is happening? I feel a call…”
That name again, my pet name from way past.
“Why wouldn’t I use it?” Now he sounds confused. “It’s your name.”
Just… stay safe, Remi.
“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” Amusement tinges his voice. “You’re the one in danger in that accursed palace. Never trust a fae.”
“Never trust a fae or a toothless troll,” I whisper.
“A fae or a toothless troll or a tailless drak,” he sends the thought.
A fae or a toothless troll or a tailless drak or a morose moth.
His laugh is a sibilant hiss winding down the pathway of our communication. “Morose moth. Love that.”
Gods below… And now this. How is it possible? Why would this random darakin not only know the nickname my long-dead brother used to call me by, but also the game we used to play? A game we invented?
Then again, after finding Mars alive, nothing should have the power to shock me anymore.