Chapter 32
Kierana sat cross-legged at the end of Wren’s bed. The warrior princess’s dress was scrunched around her legs, and the teacup she was taking sips out of made her look more dainty than Wren knew she was.
“Kelda was from a different clan than me,” Kierana began. Wren’s fingers tightened around her teacup as Kierana’s grief peppered her senses. “But I knew her. She was strong and kind and smart. I don’t know why anyone would want her dead.”
“Do you know what happened to her? Blossom gave me some details, but she was unsure of their validity.” And was likely holding back so as not to upset Wren.
Kierana picked at a small layered cake on the plate next to her.
“You know I am not one to mince words. Are you sure you wish to know?”
Wren took a sip of tea, followed by a calming breath.
“I don’t want to be uninformed,” she replied.
Kierana gave a resolute nod. “Very well. Her chest was cut open. The killer carved out her heart and put it in one hand, and a rose in the other.”
Wren flinched at the image. She thought of her brother, torn open and left for dead in the woods. Thought of his eyes–the same color as hers–devoid of life. Of him swathed in yellow fabric at the bottom of the Tides. Kelda’s fate was the same as his, but why?
“I’m sorry that you lost two people you knew in such awful ways,” Wren said in a consoling manner.
Kierana offered a meager smile in return. “She was a mere acquaintance, and your brother a friend. It is nothing compared to the loss you suffered.”
Kierana’s grief rose as she spoke. It was painful, but also comforting. For Wren doubted her new friend could feel that way if she had been the one to commit such terrible atrocities.
“Do you know the details of my brother’s death?
” Wren asked Kierana after a moment of heavy silence.
It was a question they had not broached before.
Wren did not want anyone to be suspicious of her investigation.
But now that there was another victim, it would look sensible for her to ask questions.
“I could be in the dark about certain aspects, but to my knowledge, there was no mention of a rose near his body. He was torn open–” Kierana paused, gathered herself with a breath. “But those who saw him claimed it looked to be the doings of a cryptura. Not a person.”
Wren tucked her knees to her chest beneath the blanket. She was not versed in patterns the way Castien was, but she didn’t think herself incapable, either. There wasn’t one to be found here. Her brother was outside the wall, Kelda in. His body looked to be ravaged, hers staged.
“Did they know each other?” Wren asked.
Kierana shrugged a shoulder. “I never saw them spend extensive time together. Perhaps they shared a class or sat at the same dining table, but nothing more than that. Your brother was kind to everyone, but he was not one to have a multitude of close friends.”
Wren shook her head, frustration rising.
“I don’t understand,” she confessed.
Kierana heaved a sigh. “Neither do I. The only similarity I can garner between them is their amiable personalities. Such character traits are rare at the academy, but not so much so that a killer would target those with it.”
There had to be a deeper reason. Perhaps Kelda was associated with the Order, just like Heron.
But Wren had no way of knowing that. She couldn’t ask Kierana.
She was stuck figuring things out on her own.
In the past, she relished being alone, but in the midst of this fear and grief, a part of her wished she could have a friend to help. There were too many risks, though.
“You’re certain neither of them possessed enemies?” Wren questioned, hoping her inquiry was not too suspicious.
Kierana met Wren’s gaze. “I did not say that.”
Wren’s heart began to pound behind her breastbone. There was a fierce look in Kierana’s gaze that made Wren wonder what her friend had seen and done.
“No one attends the academy without making an enemy,” Kierana added. Wren’s heart rate slowed.
“But you don’t know anyone specifically?”
Kierana eyed Wren. She would need to be careful from here on out.
“No. If I did, I would report them to the headmaster immediately,” Kierana said in a pointed tone.
Wren nodded as if she would do the same. The Falconroot hidden in a nearby trunk said otherwise.
“Do you know how the investigation is going? Do they have any leads?”
Kierana shook her head. “They’ve interviewed students–myself included–”
“I am sorry for that, also,” Wren interrupted. “That must have been difficult.”
Kierana huffed. “It was more ridiculous than difficult. They wasted their time on me. Though I suppose their suspicion was slightly warranted, given that the killer could be anyone. Student, teacher, butler, maid. I think the whole ordeal has the headmaster too on edge to be productive.”
Wren’s stomach twisted with anxiety. The idea that a killer could be walking the halls of their house right now had struck a match of fear in her.
The academy expected her to ignore it. To move on while they handled things behind the scenes.
But it would be difficult to do so with the unknown lurking above her like a cryptura ready to devour her whole.
“I do not trust easily,” Kierana broke the eerie silence.
“So I have not lived on the Whispering Isle feeling safe and comfortable, but there used to be a balance to things. Everyone knew where they stood. The threats were always political, never physical. Now…” she traced the rim of her cup.
“Now the balance has shifted. There’s something in the air.
I worry what it will mean for the future, even after the murderer is brought to justice. ”
Wren’s brow furrowed. Kierana’s anxiety swirled like a maelstrom.
“What do you mean?”
Kierana lifted her emerald gaze.
“There was an understanding between students that you did whatever it took to get to the top, within reason. If one of us is killing the other, that understanding is lost.” She paused.
Wren’s stomach bottomed out. “I fear that if this is not handled properly, the Whispering Isle will look more like a Grimhaven arena.”
Kierana didn’t need to say more than that. Wren understood. If something wasn’t done, this island would be drenched in blood.