44. Diar
Diar
Idreamt of a burning manor, of smoke filling my lungs. Huddling in the corner of my flaming room, I waited for death.
A sword cracked through my door, forcing it open. Akemi rushed through the fire, grabbing my hand and pulling me after him.
I’d had this dream a thousand times. I knew how it would end.
Through the burning halls, we ran, lungs burning. A shadow stepped from around the corner, lithe and graceful. They drew a blade of steel from their hip and summoned a twin sword of light from the fire blazing around us.
My heart burst as I watched my brother fight to protect me. As I watched him fail.
The radiant blade plunged through his lung, spraying blood across my face. The shadow stepped over his body as it slumped, raising their steel to bring down on me.
Curling into a ball, I waited for death.
But the dream ended differently, this time. Wind rushed in circles around me, beating back the assassin. Lightning crackled along its streams. The storm itself shaped into a dragon—blazing eyes and a maw glowed from within the clouds and smoke.
The leviathan snapped its jaw open, revealing the endless tempest brewing inside. It lunged at my face.
I sat bolt upright, sweat pouring down my forehead. My chest heaved, and my vision blurred as I came to my senses.
A hand wrapped around mine. “Are you alright?”
The world changed before I fully grasped it. Water spread beneath my body, extending as far as the eye could see. Thunder rumbled above, buried within a ceiling of black clouds and violet lightning.
Ferris knelt beside me, holding my hand—skin on skin. Shadows darkened his eyes, and his steel curls were messy. He wore only a thin white undershirt, one sleeve rolled up.
Had I woken him?
“It's not like you,” Ferris said. “To call out in your sleep like that.”
Pulling up my knees, I wrapped my free arm around them. “I’m fine.”
“You didn’t sound fine.” Ferris shifted closer to me, hand tightening around mine. “Was it a nightmare?”
“Yes. The same I’ve had for five years.”
Ferris’s emerald eyes flicked across my face, but he didn’t press. “I have a recurring nightmare, too,” he said quietly. “You think with how often I dream of it, I’d get used to it. But it feels real, every time.”
“So does mine,” I murmured. Lifting my head, I studied the prince beside me. “What do you dream of?”
He looked away. Every muscle in his forearm tensed, his fingers curling tighter around my hand. “Someone who hurt me.” His voice cracked. “Someone who died.” Sitting up, he pulled the collar of his shirt down, revealing his chest.
Thick scar tissue ran from beneath his collarbone toward his side.
“This is my memento of the real thing,” he said with a smile.
Whatever had left such a deep scar must have been a nasty wound. Pulling back my sleeve, I showed him the faint burn scar on my elbow.
“For how much fire there was,” I said. “This is all that I was left with.”
“Makes it harder to forget.” He pulled his tunic back into place, eyes gazing forward into the endless sea.
Silence hung around us, broken by the gentle thunder.
“Who hurt you?” I asked.
Ferris hesitated to answer. He gazed ahead, eyes glazed over. “I don’t know who my real mother is, but I have a guess. I confronted my father about it, once, and . . . ”
I waited for him to finish, but he never did. Sitting forward, I stared at his chest. “Your father did that to you?”
His throat bobbed, his eyes fixed on mine, and the world spun out of control.
Suddenly, I was somewhere else, looking through eyes that weren't mine. Pastel green walls wrapped me in their cozy embrace, potted plants cluttered an oaken desk. But for its comforting appearance, this place set my heart racing.
The king of Aenir stood over me, steel curls loose and disheveled, mouth twisted into a snarl. His fingers tightened around my collar, drawing me close to him while his other hand hefted a broken bottle.
A bottle whose razor edges were already stained with blood.
He brought it down toward my head. Raising my arms, I tried to shield myself from the blow, but I only managed to knock his strike off course. The bottle shattered against my side,
Blood spurted from the wound, and pain lashed through my body. I looked down to see a shard of the bottle stuck in my flesh and white bone gleaming beneath the red.
The world grew hazy and dark. Blood pooled beneath me, soaking my clothes. A red-haired man knelt above me, light streaming from his fingers. Reese.
The world spun, and I was slammed back into my own body. Ferris gasped, fingers strangling my hand.
We gazed at each other in confusion. Ferris stuttered out a few words. "You . . . that was . . ."
A rethaite. Our people could share memories through an intimate ceremony they said could only be performed when genuine consent bloomed between two souls.
Even most married couples never managed to perform one.
"Saints," Ferris breathed. "Your father's a fucking asshole. And your mother. . ."
I blinked a few times, realizing he must have seen a snippet of my past: Father's backhanded strikes, Mother's disdainful scorn.
"Why?" I demanded. "Why did he hurt you?"
Ferris stared into the sea. “There’s more to the story, but I don’t want to tell it.” His eyes sharpened, and he smiled again. “I couldn’t let your father do the same to you. Scars like that they . . . they cut deeper than others.”
I stared at him, drinking in this information, remembering the night we met.
The night assassins had struck at his father.
“The Solheart assassin,” I blurted out. “I shouldn’t have stopped him.”
Ferris looked up. “What?”
“The one sent to kill your father. I shouldn’t have stopped him.”
Taken aback, Ferris stared at me silently before lowering his head again. “No, I’m glad you did. Despite our . . . complicated relationship, I don’t want him to die.”
“Why not?”
“Why?” He shifted closer again, nose an inch from mine. “If someone tried to kill your father, would you stop them? Even now?”
A chaotic ball of emotions formed in my stomach at his question. Even amidst its din, I knew my answer without thinking.
“Yes,” I said.
Ferris spoke, and his words mirrored my thoughts. “I can’t even claim to hate him. I just wish . . .”
“He loved you,” I said, throat tightening.
Once it had become clear I was not the girl my father wanted me to be, he’d never looked upon me with fondness. Only disappointment. Contempt. Growing indifference.
Ferris chuckled. “I’m supposed to be comforting you.” He traced his thumb across the back of my palm.
Ripples spread through the calm waters surrounding us, and the wind picked up in the heavens.
My chest did something it had never done before; my heart flipped. Butterflies rushed through my stomach.
I yanked my hand away.
Our strange little world dissipated. I sat on a mattress in a small guest room, blankets twisted around my legs. Ferris sat beside me, back turned to the window.
A shadow flitted across the glass.
Had it been my imagination?
I shot to my feet and grabbed my sword. “How did you get in?”
Ferris tilted his head toward the open door. “I picked the lock. It wasn’t all that hard, actually. You’d think the palace would—” He cut off, eyes widening.
I heard what he did—the sound of muffled footsteps closing in on us.
The window shattered. Glass shards flew across the room, striking my back. I whirled around as a shadow burst into the room.
He wore ebony armor, and a cloak and cowl hid his features. Sword raised, he brought it down on me.
I blocked his strike. The assassin leaned in. Torchlight from the hall illuminated the lower half of his face.
And his wicked grin.
A glint of light shone behind me as a radiant blade formed from the torch’s fire.
I broke from the assassin and spun around—too late. The blade would strike my chest before I could block it.
Wind tore around me, knocking the radiant sword off course. Lightning coursed through the breeze as it circled me, and emerald light shone in its wisps.
The head of a dragon formed in the storm—just like in my dream.
Ferris. His hand was extended toward me, eyes blazing with light.
Soldiers thundered through the door, knocking it off its hinges. Soldiers—not assassins. They wore the uniform of the Nazumi guard.
The storm dragon surged around me, protecting me. Through the pulsing lightning, I saw one of the soldiers charge Ferris.
And heard a gasp of pain.
The dragon erupted, throwing everyone in the room back. Shielding my eyes from the chaotic wind, I counted my enemies.
Five soldiers, two more in the hall. The assassin at the window. Ferris, back pressed to the wall, hand clasped over his side.
Blood streamed between his fingers.
We were outnumbered, locked in tight quarters. The odds were stacked against us.
Normally, my mind honed in on a single target. An enemy to attack, a target to destroy.
This time, it focused on Ferris—and my desire to protect him.
As Akemi had protected me. I felt my catalyst answer my call—the blood folded between my blade.
Sliding toward the prince, I summoned Siotha to my hand. Two spears charged at my back. I drew the ice from my bow.
A wave surged from the bow and wrapped around us. Ice streaked through the water, hardening into a shield.
Cracks splintered through the ice as the spears struck it. Standing before Ferris, I raised my blade—prepared to meet my foes when they broke through.
The room shook. My shield shattered—but not from the soldiers' assault.
A pillar of stone ruptured the floor and slammed into the ceiling. Vines broke from the cracks in its rocky surface and snared around my two attackers’ necks. They choked, gasping for air as the vines yanked them back, slamming them against the pillar.
Agendra burst through the door, halberd mid-swing. An eagle constructed of earth flew from his weapon and crashed into a third guard, knocking him into the wall.
Steadying my grip on my blade, I turned toward the assassin—and saw him leap through the window.
Without thinking, I threw myself after him.
Cold air washed over me as I leaped through the window and landed on the balcony. Darkness swallowed everything around me—I could barely make out the branches of the trees, the multi-tiered roof of the palace, and the assassin racing across it.
My boots slammed on the roof tiles as I gave chase. Sheathing my blade, I summoned my daggers to my hands and threw them at the assassin’s back.
He spun at the last moment and managed to deflect one. The other scraped across his wrist, drawing blood.
The daggers blinked back to my hand, and I drove them forward. They sang against his blade.
The force of my attack knocked the assassin back, throwing off his hood.
He was a Solheart—and I’d seen him once before. This man had met with Quinn just before Tsuyan had been attacked.
His green-gold eyes gleamed in the night. Alistair—that had been his name.
"You should thank the prince," he said. "He saved your life."
"Why are you working with the guard?" I demanded. "I thought you wanted me to have Siotha."
"Quinn did," Alistair hissed. "We wanted Siotha—not you. I thought I'd give you a chance—see who won. You, or them." He leaned forward, blade grinding against mine. “Nazumi's commander thinks you’re working for us. Isn’t that fucking hilarious?”
We broke apart. A radiant blade came whirling toward my back. I darted out of its path, but it managed to catch me across the arm.
Hissing in pain, I stepped back, watching the magicked blade hover around Alistair as he thrust his steel sword forward and marched toward me.
Blood streamed down my arm where he'd cut me. My heart thundered against my ribs as he charged.
I blocked his strike with only one dagger, keeping the other free to intercept the radiant blade. It took everything I had to keep him at bay. With each assault, he drove me back.
"Quinn knew his choice would get you killed," Alistair yelled, swinging his sword at my side. I winced as I twisted my arm to block it. "Forlaith has made the rules to keep themselves in power. They won't let anyone step out of line. Because if they do?"
His radiant blade whirled around me, driving toward my lungs. I managed to swat it aside with my left dagger, but he swung toward my other side with his steel sword.
The flat of his blade slammed into my wrist, throwing me off balance. My back struck the roof tiles, and my right dagger flew from my grip.
Alistair stood above me, radiant sword floating at his side. "Their god, their superiority? It falls apart. And then they have to face how small they truly are." He raised his blade. "Sorry, kid. I'll make it quick."
I lifted my last dagger, but with the radiant sword singing in harmony with his blade, I wouldn't be able to block them both.
The emerald dragon soared over me, slamming into Alistair and throwing him back. A crevasse tore through the roof behind it, seeking the Solheart. A pillar of earth erupted from it and whipped toward Alistair, tip sharpening into a spear.
Alistair leaped away, and the stone spear struck the roof. Dust, smoke, and lightning filled the air, blocking my view.
Someone grabbed my shoulders. Their voice was far away.
"Diar?" Ferris pulled me up, and the world snapped back into clarity. "Are you okay?"
Agendra rushed past me, maul clutched in his hands. Coughing, I grabbed at Ferris and pulled myself up.
Blood streamed from his side and trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Doubling over, Ferris coughed. He covered his mouth with his hand. Blood coated his palm when he pulled it away.
Agendra marched across the roof, eyes searching the area. “Can you stand?" He asked.
“Yes.” I pressed my hand to my bleeding arm, and finally got a good look at Ferris’ wound.
A spear had punctured his side, just below his ribs. It tore an angry red line up to his shoulder. If he was coughing up blood, his attacker had struck something vital. He was bleeding inside, too.
“He needs a doctor,” I gasped.
Agendra grabbed Ferris’ arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, kid.” He turned to me. “The Solhearts’ still out there—stick close.”
I did, at first. I followed them back to the window and froze.
Alistair was still out there. But I’d learned something about him from that fight.
He was not the assassin in the smoke, the man who’d taken my brother’s life.
I’d let Quinn escape, and he’d stolen away with his secrets intact.
I would not let this one get away, too.
Turning from the window, I ran toward the edge of the roof.
And leaped.