Chapter Twenty-Four Faylinn
Chapter Twenty-Four
Faylinn
“There,” I said, tying a tight bandage around a little girl’s arm.
Her doll sported a matching wrap, and I kissed both lightly, much to her amusement.
She couldn’t have been older than five, her little giggles kickstarting my heart once more and thawing the healer’s persona I’d adopted once I returned to the Academy.
It was easy to lose myself in the methodical nature of healing, of assessing for injuries and treating what I could. The last time I’d done this, the Bondsmith—my mother—insisted I save my blood and Rune Magic for only the most extreme of cases.
I held no such restraint now.
A child was plagued by nightmares? I inscribed a rune to help ease their sleep.
A woman with a gash that wouldn’t stop bleeding? I tattooed a rune to help staunch the blood flow and knit her skin together.
A husband who wanted to forget the memory of his home collapsing, burying his wife and three children alive? I etched runes of forgetting and healing around his brow.
By the time Asha and I had worked through nearly all the patients from the lower districts, I was shaking and near exhaustion, the loss of blood taking a far greater toll than I ever expected.
“You need to rest,” Asha grumbled as she helped the little girl down from my makeshift exam table and escorted her back into her mother’s waiting arms. The mother—now a widow and missing two of her eldest children—smiled at me gratefully before wrapping the little girl in a hug.
I smiled wistfully at their retreating backs, sitting heavily in a chair to catch my breath.
“Here,” Asha said, shoving a water skin in my face and gesturing to a plate of meat and cheeses. “Eat. Drink. I don’t want to be subject to the General’s harsh questioning and explosive ire if you pass out.”
I rolled my eyes, doubtful the reticent General d’Alvey would have any such reaction, but obligingly popped a slice of cheese and dried meat in my mouth before washing it all down with a generous sip of water.
Even if it all tasted like ash against my tongue, Asha was right.
I needed to keep my strength if I wanted to keep helping in whatever capacity I could.
“You’re good with them,” the fiery redhead said as she sank into the chair next to me, both of us grateful for the brief reprieve.
Many of the survivors from the lower districts flocked to the Academy this evening in search of healing and a hot meal. I had no doubts that more would come in the following days once their friends returned, speaking of the generosity of General d’Alvey and the Academy.
I smiled to myself, thinking of how much Rohak hated his new position, but how good it already looked on him.
He was made to lead, made to help people.
“Fay?” Asha asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.
“Sorry. Stuck in my own thoughts,” I mused.
She laughed, hand coming to clutch her belly.
“It’s fine. I said that you’re good with them—kids,” she added with a slight tick of her eyebrows again.
I hummed and popped another cube of cheese in my mouth.
“I guess.” I shrugged, not letting on to how much I actually adored children.
“Do you want children?” she asked, pale fingers stroking her lower stomach while she spoke. I tracked the movement, realization dawning, before I answered.
“Eventually, one day. Not right now, obviously. But . . . it would be nice, yes.”
“Your opinion changed since Isrun,” she noted, and I blinked rapidly in shock. Asha chuckled but shook her head at my expression.
“Ben and I . . . there are no secrets between us, Rune Master. What he knows, I know, and vice versa. You were—are—an important part of Ben’s life. Kids were always in his future, though not in yours.” There was no animosity in her voice, just an open curiosity that instantly relaxed my hackles.
“Things change,” I said simply, and Asha sighed in response.
“Indeed, they do,” she mused quietly, hand still softly stroking her belly.
“Anything you care to share?” I asked with a pointed nod at her hand. Asha flushed scarlet before laughing lightly.
“Should have known I couldn’t conceal anything from you,” she muttered with a shake of her head, copper hair dancing around her face.
“Wasn’t hard to figure out, Asha. What with the talk of children and you sitting there practically glowing while stroking your stomach.”
Asha laughed again, her blue eyes light and dancing with pure happiness.
“Is it bad that I’m so happy when the world is collapsing around us? That I’m excited to bring this one into the world despite the fact that others are being so brutally taken from it? That I’m celebrating while others are mourning the loss of their loved ones tonight?”
I sat quietly for a moment, letting her words hang between us as I ate another slice of cheese and meat.
“No,” I eventually said with a shake of my head.
My hair had come loose from its confines at some point, and I quickly tied it back into a bun while I spoke.
“No, it’s not. That’s just life, Asha. There’s beauty in destruction, hope in despair, love in loss.
Just because that mother we just saw lost her children doesn’t mean that you need to dampen your happiness.
Life happens, death happens. We can’t have one without the other, and it’s okay to celebrate while others mourn. ”
Asha’s smile returned in full force, so bright it almost lit the dark room.
“Thank you, Fay,” she said sincerely. I waved her away, cheeks hot from the attention. “If you’re . . . willing, I’d like you to help me deliver.”
I choked on the water I’d just sipped, sitting forward as I roughly hacked. Asha’s small hand beat against my back, but stopped when a larger, much more masculine palm joined.
“Trying to kill my Bonded, Asha?” a dry, unamused voice intoned. Snot ran from my nose, and my eyes leaked tears as I desperately tried to breathe normally once more.
“No, General,” Asha sighed, and I could practically hear the roll of her eyes. “I simply asked her to deliver Ben’s and my baby. Seemed she wasn’t quite expecting that question.”
Rohak’s palm paused its soothing ministrations, simply resting on my back, and I bit back the building request to have him continue stroking. The heat from his hand bled through my tunic, warming the skin below, and it was all I could do not to groan at the sensation.
“Congratulations,” Rohak said, a bit of excitement bleeding through. I felt down the Bond, surprised to find it open once more. His sincerity was overwhelming—as was his own desire for children.
My face felt hot as I retreated down the Bond, back into the safety of my own mind, which I slammed shut nearly immediately.
Rohak audibly grunted from the force, and I winced in response.
“Yes, congratulations,” I rasped, wiping the tears from my face as I drank once more. “And I’d be happy to deliver your baby.”
Asha’s smile reached her twinkling eyes, and she squeezed my hand in thanks. “I’ll give you two a minute?” she said, rising carefully and dusting the back of her pants before exiting the healing room, closing the door behind her.
We were encased in near darkness, the few Mage Orbs attached to the walls waxing and waning as the night progressed. The silence hanging between us was oppressive, and I tapped my fingers together in an effort to relieve the building tension.
Rohak removed his hand from my back, and I instantly ached at the loss of contact. A whine built in my throat that I tamped down enough that, when it finally emerged from between clenched lips, it only sounded like a “mmph.”
My Bonded chuckled deeply—the sound igniting a flame deep in my core—before sitting heavily in Asha’s vacated chair. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a large book clutched in his hands. Instantly, it stole my focus, dispelling all other previous thoughts and desires.
“Here,” he said with a sigh and little fanfare, dropping the book into my waiting lap. It was heavy, much weightier than I expected, and thrummed with a low undercurrent of energy—energy that was vaguely familiar.
“What is it?” I asked, thumbing through the blank pages. “Where did you find it?”
A thousand questions bounced around my mind, but they all fled the moment Rohak opened his mouth once more.
“In Alois’ study, hidden behind some sort of bookshelf.”
My hands halted, thumbs opening the book to a random page before I let it fall closed with an audible thunk in the dark, small space.
“It was hidden?” I asked, excitement and trepidation warring for dominance. Rohak grunted something that fell between a laugh and agreement as his hand came up to gently caress the cover of the book.
“There’s runes etched into this cover. You can’t see them very well in this light, but they’re there. And I have no idea how to read them.” The last part was said with a mixture of frustration and longing.
“Do—do you want to learn to read them?” I asked.
Rohak grunted again, pulling his palm away from the mysterious book.
“Could be helpful, considering my Bonded is a Rune Master and the only person in Elyria fully fluent.”
“I’m not. My mother knows, too,” I blurted suddenly, both wanting to get the secret off my chest and uncomfortable with the praise Rohak was all too willing to shower upon me.
“You mentioned that earlier,” he hedged. I glanced a look at his face, finding it easier to confess things to him in the secrecy the darkness offered.
I sighed, leaning back against the chair. It creaked with my weight, but settled.
“Fate is my grandfather, the Bondsmith is my mother. I discovered a letter from her a few months back. Torin was with me”—Rohak stiffened imperceptibly at the mention of another man—“It was after you Bonded with Gisei.”
Rohak said nothing, but I could feel the conflict down the Bond.
“We didn’t do anything,” I said hurriedly, not wanting him to think I’d slept with someone else. “He’s Ellowyn’s, and I’d never betray a friend. Besides, I wouldn’t simply jump into bed with someone else. You’re buried too deep inside here”—I pressed against my sternum—“even then.”
My confession hung between us like heavy summer air. The longer Rohak was silent, the more I fidgeted, convinced I’d admitted too much.
“So you found a letter?” His voice shook slightly, but I couldn’t tell from what emotion; the Bond was still locked too tight.
I nodded, even though he could barely see.
“Yes. I found a letter in my pack from Isrun. It was from the Bondsmith, explaining everything while saying nothing. She knew Torin would end up in that room with me—there was a part of the letter about him.”
Rohak sucked in a breath of surprise, and I laughed ruefully.
“Still left many more questions than answers, I’m afraid. At least I knew Holt was actually my father, and she is my mother. A little too late, if you ask me.”
Rohak was silent for a moment longer, his hand rasping against his pants as he thought.
“Perhaps it was all she could offer at the time. Perhaps, if you were to see her, there would be more.”
“I don’t know if I want more,” I said immediately, the words like acid on my tongue. Despite the subterfuge, I did still want more from my mother. I just wasn’t in the space to accept or pursue it.
“Anyway, she can also read runes. But seeing she’s in Lishahl, I’m your best bet,” I finished lamely. Luckily, Rohak let it go, though I knew he’d find a way to poke that festering wound again later.
“Even if she were here, I would still want you to teach me, Faylinn. You’re my Bonded now . . . we should probably learn to at least coexist together.”
I nodded harshly, my heart plummeting and hands growing numb at his dismissal of our new relationship. If coexistence is all he wanted, then I would do my best to give him only that.
“Speaking of, we’re going to need to find a way to quiet this Bond,” I said, pressing my sternum once more. “I’m not sure about you, but this entire time, it’s wanted me to crawl into your lap and burrow there.”
“Same,” he grunted.
“The Bond wants you to climb into my lap?” I teased. Rohak laughed half-heartedly before he shook his head and adjusted his position in the chair.
“No, it wants you close. On me, me in you, as close as two people can be.” His tone was carefully neutral; the Bond closed to all of my experimental prodding.
“Sol said that proximity helped her and Thandi before they completed the Bond”—my cheeks flamed at the insinuation—“Maybe that will help us?”
“It’ll have to be more than a few casual meetings in the dark, Faylinn,” Rohak practically growled and caused my core to clench.
“You should move in with me.”
I sputtered at his casual statement, thankful I had no water to choke on once more.
“Move in with you?” I parroted.
“Yes. There is plenty of space in my suite in the manor. We can move your stuff into mine. Perhaps that will encourage you to organize your books.” Rohak’s tone was light, and I relaxed at his teasing.
“They are organized,” I grumbled. “There’s just quite a few of them.”
Rohak’s deep chuckle filled the space and warmed me from the inside out. He pushed to a stand, and I instantly wanted him to sit back down.
“After you’re done here, come up to my—our—rooms. We’ll move whatever you need into my space and try and decipher that book together after you show me Vespera?”
I nodded my head.
Rohak took my unspoken agreement before crossing the empty room and opening the door, bathing his imposing figure in light.
“And perhaps you’ll explain to me why you’ve tormented yourself down here all day. I felt it through the Bond, Faylinn,” he said at my wince. “I understand self-flagellation, but this seems extreme, and I’d like—deserve, even—to know why.”
Weakly, I agreed. Rohak studied me once more with piercing green eyes that I swore could see the depths of my sins with a singular look. Then, he nodded and left the room, taking my breath and crumbling my resolve as he did.