17. Kyros
Chapter seventeen
Kyros
Black blood drips into the basin after I splash the cool water over my face.
It creates a cloud of darkness expanding out like ripples of spilled ink, and my wet hair drips, creating rivulets of water that run down my body.
As I look into the small clouded mirror above the basin, I barely recognize the man who stares back.
I know my magick has to be somewhere buried deep within me, but not having access to it feels too much like the loss I was plagued with as a child.
Even more so now with the absence of my twin…
and nearly every person who has ever mattered to me is still unaccounted for.
I’ve never had to fight without the reassurance of its presence until today.
When I lit the pyre at the Shula Morana, it was supposed to signify a new beginning for the Neer people and in turn, the people of Eathian.
Instead, so many likely met their end that night.
The people there were not prepared for a battle.
I keep calling it that in my head at least, but that’s not what it was at all.
It was a slaughter, and those responsible will pay for what they’ve done.
The muscle in my jaw twitches as I swipe the towel down my body.
This is as good as it's going to get right now.
After ridding myself of the putrid remnants of the Cerkins I left slain, I slide a fresh, dark tunic over my head.
I left the door open when I came in here to clean up.
I don’t trust Ruaan and didn’t want a door to muffle any movement within the house.
So as I turn toward the hall, I see Astraea sitting in the room across from mine.
She’s tucked in close to the bedside where we laid Colette to recover.
Their hands are clasped as she whispers to her best friend.
Likely reassurances of survival. It's been nearly an hour since they arrived here—Colette and Ruaan. Even though I’m sure Astraea has as many questions as I do about what happened to them and what exactly brought them here.
She won’t leave Colette's side. I can’t fault her for it.
The living area is darker than usual. The hearth Kaeleith usually cooks over has gone cold.
The dweller is in the kitchen fussing over a wound that Ruaan has on his shoulder, as she's done with me many times in the same position.
He sucks in a sharp breath as the old woman presses what looks to be a potent mix of healing balm to the long cut steadily bleeding down his arm.
“Oh, hush. It will hurt more if you have to lose the arm to infection. Now hold still.” Kaeleith scolds as she grabs hold of his forearm, tucking it between her own arm and her body as she holds him in place.
He glares at the top of her head as she continues to slather on the balm and wrap the wound in clean bandages.
When Ruaan notices my arrival, his gaze hardens and his spine straightens just a fraction.
He watches as I lift the pitcher of water from the table and pour a measure into one of the large cups from the shelf on the wall and drain the contents without a word.
I already made sure that Astraea had some as soon as we got Colette settled.
“Did the girl eat the food I left her?” Kaeleith asks without looking over her shoulder at me.
“I made sure she did.” Even if she didn't want to.
I wouldn't leave the room until she had eaten at least half of the small plate and drained the whole cup of water.
After our training and everything that followed, I know she needed it.
I keep my eyes on Ruaan as I tilt my head and crack my neck.
Every second that passes without knowing what transpired and caused them to portal here has my already tense muscles tightening further.
“The girl fought like a warrior. It’s hard to believe she’s only been a handmaiden her whole life.” Ruaan says, turning his gaze to look down the hallway. He can look away all he wants, but I saw the look he tried to hide. I know he’s keen on where my thoughts are as I continue to stare at him.
“Why are you here, Ruaan?” I demand, planting my feet as I station myself in front of him.
There is no reason for small talk. None of us have time for it, and I sure as hell don't have the patience for it.
“Colette was with my brother last I saw; now she has arrived here with you and is too injured to tell me what happened with her own mouth.
It doesn't look good for you, seeing as you barely have a scratch.” I continue, looking at the nearly nonexistent injury on his arm.
“Well, I've been trained in combat my whole existence…
so, I'm a little better at the whole—surviving mostly unscathed—thing than a handmaiden to a princess. But thanks for your concern.” Ruaan sneers, though a cocky grin threatens to tug his mouth up at the corner.
Kaeleith chooses that moment to angle his arm and thrust the bone back into the socket.
He lets out a growl aimed at the dweller with narrowed eyes.
I don't give him the satisfaction of a reaction, though I have to fight it from showing on my face just how satisfying that sound of pain he let out was.
Instead, I cross my arms and stare, waiting for him to give me the answer to my question.
After a beat, he sighs, stretching out his stiff arm, and finally starts talking again.
“As I’m sure you’re probably aware, Queen Phaedra was looking for something…
You and your team were there on an assignment, were you not?
” He asks, and I level him with a glare.
When I saw him at the palace, I should have figured that Diemos was not the only one there to find something out about Connard and his shady ruling.
“She was not the only one to discover the knowledge that Connard was hiding something from the other kingdoms. My father has had his suspicions of the false king’s rise to power, just as many of the people who watched it happen. ” He confirms.
Kaeleith gathers the tinctures and excess bandages from the table next to Ruaan and dismisses herself from our conversation but not before ambling around the kitchen and gathering food and ingredients to make another meal.
“As you can imagine, he was not pleased to be kept in the dark. There is word of a prophecy.” I presume he is speaking of the relic…
Though I never really questioned the information or how it was obtained, now I’m curious.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kaeleith pause.
She looks over her shoulder for only a fraction of a second, but the look on her face tells more than her silence does.
I've known her long enough to read what she doesn't say, at least some of the time. Though Ruaan continues before I am able to ask anything of her, what he says has both Kaeleith’s and my attention snapping back to him.
“I think Connard made a mistake opening up his gates and letting so many of us into that palace. Not when he seemingly has been sitting on something so coveted.” Ruaan declares, as he inspects the mending Kaeleith had done on his shoulder.
When his eyes lift, they hone in on mine.
“I suspect you have already figured out the princess is quite the conundrum.” The room seems to darken at his words.
Violence is leaking from every one of my pores, and every nerve ending is on fire at the possible threat to my twin flame.
“I sensed something about her the moment I met her. Call it a recognition of a sort…” I know he is hinting at the magick I thought I felt coming from her, too.
Still, I wonder—what is the reason Connard has gone to the lengths he has to hide a prophecy?
Why kill so many people and outlaw the magick that was the backbone of the realm and condemn its users to death?
All the while, the princess of his name seems to radiate the very energy he's so willingly decried.
“What is this prophecy?" I ask as I saunter toward the window, trying to will myself to appear as though every muscle is not bound so tight I could snap at any moment. Ruaan’s brows stitch together as he lifts his gaze from the wound dressing he was casually inspecting and watches me walk away.
“What do you mean? You don’t know?” He asks suspiciously, and I spin on my heel to meet his gaze.
“Don’t toy with me, Ruaan. We both know that I’m not one to ask idle questions.” The words come out as nothing short of a growl, and Ruaan lets out an indignant huff, as though I am annoying him with a shake of his head.
“The prophecy tells of a great betrayal. The locking of realms and what happens when the gate is lifted between worlds. There will be a coming of tides. A sea of shadows set loose to devour the world. The line between nightmares and reality is blurring, sending the world into a chaotic melancholy.” Everything in me stills, and as hard as I try not to react, Ruaan is just as trained as I am and notices the subtleties that others might overlook.
“And you think that has something to do with her?”
“Don’t you? I think we need to take her back to Eathian and have a conversation with the usurper king.” Ruaan casually suggests. It takes only seconds for me to close the space between us. I have Ruaan's tunic bunched in my fist, and I pull him in close and growl at what he’s implying.
“Why the fuck are you here?” My mouth barely moves as I speak through clenched teeth, low and menacing. Ruaan keeps his composure; I’ll give him that. The cocky bastard simply looks down at where I hold onto his clothing. His lip curled just a fraction.
“Believe it or not, I’m not your enemy right now. Although, that can easily change if you don’t get the fuck out of my face.” He says coolly, but our eyes clash like dueling blades.