Chapter 7 #3
Hours passed. Vic rolled a small brass ball across the floor. Click immediately perked up, his predatory instincts overriding his fear. He darted after the ball, tail whipping excitedly behind him.
"Well, at least someone's enjoying themselves," Vic said with a tired smile. He rolled the ball again, and Click pounced, his little claws scrabbling against the smooth metal.
"He's easily entertained," I said, watching him chase after Vic's contraption with single-minded obsession.
After a while, Zoya and Vic settled down to rest while I took the final watch.
The eerie glow of the vegetation outside cast strange shadows through the cracks in the walls.
In the dim light, I could see Cypher was still awake.
I moved to sit beside him, checking his bandages.
They were soaked through with blood and whatever clear fluid the scather's venom contained.
"These need changing," I said, reaching for Vic's medical pack.
"I can do it," Cypher insisted, trying to take the pack from me.
"Don't be stubborn." I batted his hand away. "Let me help."
Surprisingly, he relented, sitting back with a barely suppressed groan. I carefully peeled away the soiled bandages, revealing the puncture wounds beneath. The skin around them was angry and inflamed, with thin red lines spreading outward. Itchy, he'd said. It looked considerably worse than that.
I cleaned the wounds as gently as I could, though Cypher still hissed through his teeth at the contact. "Sorry," I murmured.
"Not your fault."
"It is, though." I applied fresh salve, my fingers light against his hot skin. "You took that bite for me."
"I told you. My crew, my responsibility."
"I'm not really your crew, though. I'm just a passenger."
His eyes caught mine, reflecting the strange light. "So say you."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I focused on rewrapping his shoulder with fresh bandages. My fingers brushed against old scars that marked his skin.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For saving me."
He was quiet for so long that my face heated in embarrassment.
But then he said, "I need to tell you something." He shifted, wincing as the movement pulled at his injured shoulder. "Something I should have told you before we came here."
I finished securing the bandage, then sat back on my heels. "What is it?"
"I haven't been entirely honest about why I took this job." His eyes searched mine. "About why Nytheris matters to me."
"I figured there was more to it than money."
He took a deep breath. "I hope you don't hate me for keeping this from you."
"It's hard to be mad at someone who just took a scather bite for me," I said, attempting a smile.
He didn't return it. Instead, his expression became more somber. "The reason I have unfinished business here is because..." He paused, as if the words were difficult to form. "Because I'm Nytherian."
I stared at him, processing this. It should have been a shock, but somehow, as he said it, it felt right. It explained his knowledge of the realm, the way he navigated its ruins with such familiarity. But there was more, I knew that already.
"Not just Nytherian," he continued, leaning in closer. “I was born Cypher Orian Corvane, second in line to the throne of Calvaris."
Calvaris—the name of the main island, and if I remembered correctly, the name of the largest empire in Nytheris.
"You're royalty," I whispered. It wasn’t a question. I was sitting here next to royalty. A prince. A prince who just nearly died to save me from a scather attack.
He nodded once. "I was. The last surviving member of my bloodline to make it out when everything collapsed.
My father and sister died the day of the collapse," he continued, staring past me at something only he could see.
"I was only eight when they made me go through the portal.
The last thing I remember is my father telling me to survive, no matter what. "
"How did you...?" I couldn't finish the question.
"A wayfarer captain found me. Captain Harrow of the Stormchaser. He saved me, raised me on his wing ship." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Taught me everything I know about void sailing. Never once treated me like the broken prince I was."
The pieces fell into place. All of it. His oddly specific knowledge of Nytheris, his conviction to return despite the dangers, despite losing crew members, and his reluctance to speak about his past.
"The codex," I said. "Does this mean it belongs to you then? The royal family would have had control over any valuable artifacts."
"Yes. My family was sworn to protect it. It contains knowledge that could reshape the Gallery and if it fell into the wrong hands, it could be catastrophic."
"Is that why you agreed to this job? To make sure Gideon doesn't misuse it?"
Cypher's eyes met mine again. "Partly." He didn't elaborate, and no wasn't the time for that particular battle, so I didn't push.
I sat back, trying to absorb everything he'd told me. It was insanity. Like something from a myth or a story. A real lost prince of a fallen world, set out to save his people and reclaim his throne. What in the realms was I doing here?