20. Kiera
Chapter 20
Kiera
I wake up alone, and for that, I’m grateful. My limbs are shaky and my head feels full of lead. Slowly, I climb out of Kalix’s bed and pause only once my feet have touched the cold floor to look back. The snakes are all gone and I half wonder if I imagined them there—but they had been there before Kalix had bit me and injected his venom into my veins. They must have been there. A shudder works through me. Spiders are one thing. Serpents are another. A large part of me shies away from the memories of what happened between Kalix and me. The act of not thinking of them isn’t difficult considering that those images feel warped as if I’m trying to look at them through the bottom of a jar.
I quickly gather the scraps of my clothes, but when I try to pull them on, I realize that they’re torn beyond repair. With an annoyed huff, I leave them on the floor and go through his wardrobe. Pulling on a pair of smaller trousers that were left in the bottom that are still somewhat too big on me, I grab a dark tunic and haul that on as well.
When I exit his room and peek over the railing, the Darkhavens’ main room is blessedly empty. I hurry down the stairs and to the door. At this point, I don’t care about their reasons for keeping me in their tower. I head down a floor to my old Terra room and steal inside.
Thankfully, my old things haven’t yet been removed. I dig through the small number of items I own and frown when all that’s left is the one dress Regis had forced me to bring when I’d first entered the Academy all those months ago. Holding it up, I glare at it and debate if I’d rather walk around with my trousers falling every few steps or just give in and wear the damn thing.
Being reminded of Regis doesn’t exactly endear me to the fabric, but I release a long slow breath and give in. Stripping out of my stolen clothes, I don the dress. It’s far less elaborate than the ones I’d had to borrow from Maeryn, but I still dislike the feeling of so much fabric around my thighs and legs. Despite the flow of the skirts, it feels more restrictive than breeches.
I sink onto the creaky cot I’d once called my own and drag my hands over my face. My cheeks feel dry and stiff. I reach for my neck, intending to scratch the side only to pull away when dried flecks of blood come off at the scrape of my nails. Standing, I go in hunt of the small mirror I’d kept in my sack and lift it to look at the damage Kalix had done.
Any evidence of Kalix’s bites is gone now though. They had obviously healed over sometime during the night. The only remainder is the darkened flecks of crusted blood. I scratch them off and let them fall where they may.
A taptaptap at the window pauses my actions. Shock rolls through me as I turn my head and spot none other than Regis’ crow outside the window with its clawed feet hooked around the bars and its little beak tapping repeatedly on the glass. Forgoing my task, I move to the window, quickly pulling it open, and retrieving the little scroll tied to the animal's foot. For several moments, I just hold the piece of paper without opening it. If it’s from Regis, then I have half a mind to burn it without reading the contents. He should know, though, that it’s far more dangerous now than ever before to attempt to send me notes.
I’m no longer a Terra in the eyes of the Gods but a newfound Mortal God. They’re watching me and I’m not so naive as to think they don’t have eyes everywhere. I peer around the room and then close my eyes, calling out with my mind.
Almost immediately, a hundred little minds respond—their emotions nearly overpowering in their strength. I flinch and focus on the loudest and brightest one. Ara. I convey my need with a thought and she quickly responds. The other spiders’ minds fade as I pull away and I know that they’ll be watching and keeping an eye out while I deal with this.
Protection in place, I slip my nail beneath the end of the scroll and unravel it. The words scrawled on the parchment are short. One line.
Can we meet? — R
Fresh anger burns hot within me. I close my eyes as I crumple the paper in my fist. What would be the point? I know who his loyalty lies with now, and though it should not have surprised me—I admit that it did. It had hurt far worse than all the torture Ophelia had heaped upon me at a young age.
Not stopping to think of my actions, I move to the candle sitting on the nightstand and light it. Holding the parchment over the flame, I watch as it eats away at the paper until there is nothing left but ash falling from my smudged fingertips. Then I blow out the flame and wave the crow away, shutting the window without writing anything back.
Even if it weren’t far more dangerous now than before, I don’t think I’d be willing to meet with Regis. He was part of my life in the Underworld and that life is over now. The brimstone is gone and I’ve been released from my contract. There is nothing left for me in the past. So, there is no use dwelling on it.
Still, I watch as Regis’ crow flaps its wings outside of the tower window a few times before it turns away and flutters off. I’m sure I confused the animal with my actions, but that’s no longer my problem. My problem is finding a way to survive this new chapter of my life—in the Mortal Gods Academy.
I turn back to my things and start to pack them into my satchel, intending to bring them to the Darkhavens’ quarters. I’m mostly done when I spot the old volume that Caedmon had gifted me back when I thought he knew nothing of my heritage. Ice fills me, erasing whatever heat had been poured into my veins the night before as I realize the title has changed again. The stitching has been reworked into new words. Lifting it in my hand, I drift a palm over the front.
To Those Who Have Been Stolen
I frown down at the words, but because I can’t seem to help myself, I flip the book open once more and watch in fascination as words begin to form.
Demetria Gyllmare
Atticus Varlane
Philomena Deveras
Cecil Marr
Seline Xarxis
Abeyance Wellbriar
Malachi Ortison
I scan the names that appear on the first page, stopping only on the last one as I recognize it. It’s the only one without a line crossed through it. I know none of the other names, but from them, I don’t think they sound like any mortal name I would know. Instead, they sound like … the names of someone with status. Names of Mortal Gods. With the final name, too, still sitting there on the front page like a beacon, my mind rolls over the list with confusion.
Frowning, I flip the book closed once more, staring at the title. “To Those Who Have Been Stolen…” What does that mean?
The only person I could ask who might have some idea is Caedmon. I grit my teeth and shake my head, turning and shoving the book into my sack before hefting it over my shoulder and stomping to the door. I’ll ask him when I’m forced to be in his presence again, but until then, I will simply remain silent.
Whatever the book is trying to tell me, it all leads back to him anyway. I don’t know what to ask the book to get the answers I need, the truth that Caedmon won’t give me.
I leave behind my old Terra room and return to the Darkhaven chambers. After all, where else am I supposed to go?
My stomach rumbles with hunger as I approach the door and when I open it and step inside, I’m greeted by two familiar faces. Ruen and Theos are standing in the middle of the room, dressed for the day. They both stop talking the second I enter. Ruen’s midnight eyes fall to the strap of the satchel over my shoulder.
“You went back to your room,” he states.
I don’t acknowledge him and instead, stride across the room to his reading table. Once there, I unload my burden and drop it into his seat before cracking my neck to one side and then the other.
“We’re about to leave for breakfast before we head to our classes,” Theos speaks up, drawing my attention. “Would you like to come with us?”
I face the two of them, ignoring Ruen’s disapproving glare as I reply. “I didn’t know you deigned to eat with the rest of the Mortal Gods.” For the most part, when I was their Terra they’d either skipped meals or ordered me or one of the numerous kitchen Terra to deliver their food to the North Tower.
Theos flashes me a smirk. “We go with the masses on occasion,” he says with a shake of his head. “Are you coming or not?”
“She is,” Ruen snaps before I get a chance to answer.
My eyes jerk to his. “ She ,” I hiss out, “can speak for herself.” Though I know I wasn’t using my full strength during our sparring match, the fact that he won still burns through me with violent annoyance. I hadn’t been trying—not really. It wasn’t like I could reveal my training right there for all to see.
Ruen arches a brow at my tone but doesn’t say anything. It’s Theos who darts a look between us before leaving his brother and moving across the room in my direction. As he gets closer, though, and notices my attire, he pauses and glances me up and down.
“You’re not wearing that, are you?” he demands.
I shrug. “I don’t have anything else.”
The scoff he releases is followed by a shake of his head as he turns and disappears through the doorway that leads into his bedroom. A moment passes and I say nothing. Not even when Ruen drags a hand up his face and through the dark strands of his hair, mussing them. I’m not going to ask what his problem is.
Theos returns quickly with fabric tucked over one arm. He approaches me and hands over what looks like a new tunic and a pair of trousers. I take them but eye the pants. “Will these fit me?” I ask, arching a brow.
He snorts. “Yes,” he says.
“Where, may I ask, are you getting clothes for me?” I peer at him curiously. “And why don’t I know where you all are keeping these?” I lift the clothes now in my hands.
“There are clothes for you in each of our rooms—well, save for Kalix, I suppose.” Theos frowns at that and glances up. “Have you seen him this morning?”
I stiffen. “No,” I say quickly—too quickly if Ruen’s sharp look is anything to go by. I ignore it as I turn and head towards his room. “I’ll get changed and be right back,” I toss over my shoulder as I enter Ruen’s bedroom and slam the door shut behind me.
Heart pounding, I repress the heat spearing through my face as I quickly strip out of the dress and pull on the trousers—sans underwear since none was provided. Thankfully, the dress had an under corset that could be separated and I leave it on as I don the tunic as well, tucking it into the waistband that molds perfectly to my hips.
Taking a moment to stride to Ruen’s wash basin, I splash some water onto my face before patting the skin dry. I peer into his mirror and am relieved to find that all hints of crusted blood are now gone.
When I return to the main room, I think I’ve calmed my face enough to deceive Theos and Ruen. While Theos merely offers me a smile at my new attire and gestures me towards the door, Ruen hangs back, eyeing me with an analytical interest. Theos is easier to fool than Ruen and I hate that about the eldest Darkhaven.
Ruen Darkhaven sees past my flesh into all the things I want to keep in the dark.
The smile he gives me when I glance back at him over my shoulder is full of teeth.
Maybe he’s not Kalix, but he unsettles me in a different way, and he knows it.