Chapter Sixteen Liars and Killers
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LIARS AND KILLERS
We’re stopping,” Thance said, dismounting his buckskin stallion.
Omira looked every inch the Alethian warrior atop her battle-scarred blood bay mare.
Caelan, on the other hand, was pale as a corpse atop Ciz.
He had been steadily worsening since they’d left the temple that morning, and Reya hated that she’d noticed, much less gave a damn.
He was a grown male. If he wanted to ride until he keeled over, that was his prerogative.
Caelan shook his head. “It’s not yet dusk. We go on.”
“Enough.” Thance grabbed the reins from Caelan, his face like stone. “You’re the one who decided not to give orders anymore.” The words were said with enough bite that Reya knew there was more to them. “Take the night to eat, rest, and recover. You’re no use to anyone like this.”
Thance and Omira both smelled of the sea.
Omira’s scent was laced with lemon and fresh basil, where Thance’s was neroli and rosemary hung out to dry in the window of a cottage along the coast. It was pleasant even in its bitterness, if a little overwhelming as it sharpened in the air with their emotions.
There was an aged familiarity between the three of them, and a deep hurt that even Reya could sense like a festering wound.
Caelan looked like he wanted to heal it, but was lost as to what it would take.
Their expressions kept shifting, as if they were having some silent conversation.
Thance’s look suddenly turned thunderous with warning.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and Caelan climbed off the saddle.
“Now seems as good a time as any,” Omira said, expression tight, as she dismounted behind them.
“Omira,” Thance said. “Let him rest. We can hash it out in the morning.”
“No. I deserve an explanation, and so do you,” she said to her brother before turning back to Caelan. “We were given express orders to court-martial you. Tyrus wants you in chains.”
“Of course he does.” Caelan’s reply was a snarl. “You’re welcome to try.”
Omira didn’t take the bait. “It’s been nearly a year.
You cannot be surprised the Elders are demanding you answer for where you’ve been.
It would be the same for any of us if we’d abandoned our position in the night without so much as a goodbye.
” She turned her withering stare on Reya.
“Though I’m sure when we return to the Order with her, all will be forgotten. ”
At that, Reya reared back. She was prepared to tell the female exactly where she could shove her spear, but before she could break her daylong silence, Caelan spoke.
“I’m not going back with you. Neither is she.”
Omira’s voice cut the air like a blade. “Excuse me?”
“Did I not speak clearly enough for you?”
The female’s severe blue eyes narrowed. “Oh, I heard you.”
“Caelan,” Thance interjected calmly, “we need to get Reya somewhere safe.”
“You are not taking her anywhere,” Caelan said through bared teeth.
Thance looked taken aback by the vehemence. “We haven’t seen that many Dread Wolves together in centuries, Caelan. They’re clearly amassing for her.”
“You think I’m unaware of the danger?”
“I didn’t say that,” Thance said.
It took Reya’s brain a moment to catch up. To process all that Omira had said. Then she let out a low, dead laugh. Then another.
They all turned to stare with expressions that made plain they thought she might have lost her mind in that temple. For all she knew, she had. “Order. You don’t mean… that Order?” When no one replied, she laughed again. “Stars, you do. This just keeps getting better.”
“Reyanwyn,” Caelan began, but she held up a hand.
This was the final piece of the puzzle. It made sense. They made sense. All of Caelan’s secrecy. His desperate thirst for vengeance. Their matching armor.
“I’m a problem solver.”
“Whose problems do you solve?”
“That, thief, is the first question you’ve asked that matters.”
Caelan was a member of the Order of Light, still a general centuries after the Fall. His war with Rhiterra had never ended; it had just moved into the shadows. And these two Sages, judging by how they dared to push him, were barely beneath him in the chain of command.
“Anything else you’d like to tell me?” Reya asked.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Caelan said.
“What am I thinking?” Her words were a bitter dare.
Caelan sighed and said to his friends, “Both of you should leave. Reya and I have business in Port Talluah.”
“What the rotting hell could be more important than this?” Omira said, pitch increasing with every word. “Are you saying she won’t fight?”
“Omira,” Thance cut in, “will you please just—”
“No! We are not the Elders, Caelan, we are us. For almost a year we didn’t know whether you were alive or rotting in the ground somewhere. Do you have any idea what we’ve been through? I want some damn answers.”
Reya glanced between them, soaking in the silence. “They don’t know, do they?” Caelan’s eyes shot to hers, guttered and full of reproach. She knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Your general got himself cursed. He’s dying. That’s why he needs me.”
Two sets of pale eyes widened on Caelan, who ran a hand through his hair, looking more exhausted and defeated than she had ever seen.
The silence that followed made Reya feel more despicable than all the liars and killers in the Heap.
It was something Lennox would have done, and that realization made her feel ill.
“Caelan,” Thance said, and Reya hated herself a little more over the agony in his friend’s voice. “How could you not tell us?”
Omira bared her teeth. “You were forbidden to go to them, and you did anyway.”
Reya watched the commander in Caelan war with the friend and protector. “I do not have to explain myself to you.”
“The Fae were never going to help us!” Omira raged on. “They have no reason to. But the Delthians do—and their king will speak to no one but you.”
“The Fae are stronger than a human force could ever be,” Caelan said. “I had to try.”
“I ought to skewer you on my spear, you selfish bastard. This cannot be undone!”
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Thance said, already calculating.
Omira’s plait snapped in the air as her head swung between them. “Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Looking for a cure?”
“Not just a cure. A solution.” Caelan brushed his hand down Ciz’s neck before reaching into his saddlebag and retrieving three letters Reya recognized.
“Nivaan would never have left the safety of his borders if he didn’t believe his own people were at risk,” he said, handing them to Thance.
“We needed proof that they are. This gives him a reason to invade.”
“You could have come to us. You should have come to us,” Thance said, voice firm.
The twins each took a letter to read, finishing at the same time and trading without so much as looking up at each other, their movements so in tune it was eerie.
If the stories were correct, it was rare for Sages to have more than one child, much less twins, which made their existence all the more remarkable.
Omira folded the final letter with a wary hope in her expression. Then she pointed one straight, damning finger at Reya. “How is it this one can help you but we can’t?”
Caelan tentatively met Reya’s gaze in silent request. She shook her head.
But Thance’s eyes widened anyway in surprise, and Caelan cursed.
“Did he just—” Reya sputtered.
“Yes,” Caelan said. “Thance is a duo. A perceptor, like you. So he’ll read your thoughts and mine despite frequent requests that he use his tongue.”
“I was in your head, where I have permission to be, not hers,” Thance said defensively, then added to Reya, sounding a little more contrite, “It’s part of how I communicate. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Someone had better start talking,” Omira growled.
These three Sages were forces of nature.
One of them could fly, bring people back from the precipice of death, and burn entire towns with a flick of his wrist; one could fling boulders with his mind and read thoughts; the other could probably do all that and more, not to mention she was an artist with a spear. Reya felt small in comparison.
She didn’t know or trust them, but it no longer mattered, because Thance had read the answer in Caelan’s thoughts. They might be the most dangerous trio in the world, and downplaying the truth of what she was would only look like weakness to them. “I also go by the Crimson Dagger.”
Omira appeared to be waiting for a punchline. It never came. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The female put her hand on her spear. It looked like a motion of habit, but Reya didn’t think so. “So this is our Guardian? A half-breed thief.”
“Please ignore her, Reya,” Thance said. “I usually do.”
“I left for a reason,” Caelan interrupted. “I did not ask you to come here. Nor do I require your assistance.”
“If you think we’re leaving now, you have lost your mind,” Thance said.
“You have both lost your minds,” Omira bellowed. “Her—leading our people against the might of Rhiterra? It’s a joke, Caelan.”
“She is Una’s chosen,” Caelan said.
“I don’t care if she was chosen by every one of the All-Gods,” Omira said. “She nearly killed us all! She clearly has no control, and is a danger to herself and others. If you think the Elders will accept her—”
“The Elders will submit to the will of the All-Gods, as will we,” Thance said. He rested a hand on his sister’s shoulder, but she threw him off and started ranting at them both in the First Language.
Hector had only taught Reya a few words and phrases in the ancient tongue, but she was sure she heard several choice curses.
There was a warning in Caelan’s voice as he replied in the common language. “I don’t give a damn what you do. I’m not your general anymore. But if you’re going to stay, you’ll fall in line. Make yourself useful and take first watch.”