6. Chapter 6
Ifelt all the air leave my body as Therian came closer, his gaze flitting between us before settling on Malik.
"The Malik Dures," Therian stated, as if it was a damnation. "The moment I heard of your arrival, I should have known this would happen."
Therian circled us, his eyes not leaving Malik until they slowly slid to mine.
My breath caught as his onyx eyes stared me down, so much communicated between us in just one look.
Therian and I never shared many words, yet we could read each other as easily as any married couple could.
I knew then that he could tell I was frayed by Malik's reappearance, and even more shaken by the disturbance in Yllsora.
But even with that knowledge, I knew Therian found it all laughable, his compassion for Yllsora and the Mother Blessed less than negligible.
"There is nothing happening here other than me making sure Allyra is okay," Malik said, breaking the silence.
Therian scoffed. "And there is nothing happening outside other than men sparring for fun. Do not take me for a fool."
Even after all the time Therian and I had spent together, he still knew little about me, but he did know about Malik, how we had been promised to one another before he was torn away from me.
I never said much about Malik—Therian said I never had to, as the truth of how I felt was always plain on my face whenever the Dures were mentioned.
Making the position he had just found Malik and I in all the more damning.
There was no telling what Therian thought when he walked into the council room and saw Malik and I standing next to one another. I had been so thoroughly focused on Malik that Therian had become an afterthought. But now, the air seemed to crackle with tension as the three of us took one another in.
Therian continued to circle the temple, his eyes not leaving the pair of us. "If there is one thing I know about Allyra, it is the soft spot she has for you, so I am not surprised by this in the least. Though I am surprised by how quickly your fathers came for each other's necks."
I pushed out of Malik's hold then and stood before Therian, my eyes going to the sword he held unsheathed, the tip of it dripping with blood.
"What did you do, Therian?"
"I did nothing."
"If you laid a hand on my men," Malik hissed from behind me, surging towards Therian.
I stood in front of him, my hand at his chest, forcing him to come to a pause.
"Why?" I asked Therian. "Why are they fighting?"
Therian shrugged. "Your father is less than thrilled about the Dures' return.
Their civil conversation turned to one spoken better with iron rather quickly after you left.
Old, unsettled business. But mostly because Malik here tried to claim what was not his, and your father feared I'd be upset.
Or that word would get back to the mainland king that the Dures were here, speaking ill of him.
But you all are lucky Sorrel has a soft spot in my heart and that I'm willing to defend it against those who threaten the work the king and I have put into this place. "
It made sense why my father would be angry at the Dures and their opposition of the king.
My father had come to cherish my marriage to Therian and the tie to the mainland king it provided us, despite the way they spoke of the Mother Blessed and all we did for our survival of this world.
It was the one piece of contempt I held against my father, the one thing I wished I could get him to understand—that making friends with the enemy was still to our detriment.
"We did not come here to threaten Sorrel," Malik growled. "We came here to save it. From men like you."
"Careful now," Therian said. "You don't want to be seen as a traitor and a hypocrite, Malik."
Malik did not hesitate, swinging at Therian, knowing that he would immediately retaliate. I wanted to stop them, as I did not want any more violence in the village for one night, but as they began to fight, what Therian had just said sunk in.
Malik, a traitor and a hypocrite?
I had often wondered what Malik was doing while he was away, if it was something I would even want to know.
I kept myself afloat all those years assuring myself that Malik would never do anything against the Mother Blessed, that he would always be on our side and fighting for us.
Yet at Therian's words and Malik's reaction to them, I was more unsure than I had ever been in my life.
Their fighting was a dance of anticipation, both parties foreseeing the other's next step.
I could see in Malik's movements that this had become second nature to him, his sword parrying Therian's strikes as easily as if it were breathing.
Time seemed to stretch as they fought one another, their blades meeting in a song that echoed off the walls of the temple.
It was brutality, but it was art. I could see that now. And looking at Malik, I would have feared him if I didn't know him.
I was never one for fighting, even in practice skirmishes.
I spent a lot of time with Malik when he trained, usually while working on my logs, so I was a passive audience.
Yet, as I watched Malik fight now, I understood why people said sword fighting was akin to being a painter or carver.
There was a skill to it that had to be honed.
And I could see why Malik was such a revered swordsman growing up.
He moved fluidly, nothing about his fighting style was heavy or severe, more so striking and precise, each movement with a pre-planned purpose.
"Struck a chord, did I?" Therian asked when they came close, their breaths mixing.
"You know nothing," Malik growled.
"I know that you are not as innocent as you seem. That you too conversed with the king and his men before you fled and came here, your tail between your legs because you knew you could not stand against the mainland men on your own."
The revelation that Malik had conversed with the king sent a rush of shock through me, catching my attention.
Before, Malik and I had thought nothing of the mainland men, good or bad, only agreeing that they were sometimes too weary of the Mother Blessed to be fully trusted.
But since the Shroud, my opinion of them had veered drastically, so much so that I was wary of anyone who entertained them and their way of ruling.
Even with all the time that had passed, I knew that Malik did not converse with the mainland king because he wanted to be on their side. I knew Therian was trying to catch Malik in a confession that would damn him, but that Malik was too smart to fall into that trap.
Therian said nothing else for a moment. Letting the silence thicken, letting his opponent become uncomfortable was Therian's way of gaining the upper hand in any situation, but he didn't know Malik's stubbornness.
Malik would stay there all night if it meant not backing down from Therian.
And they did just that, the pair of them staring at one another, the power play between them palpable.
“The king will be here soon,” Therian continued, breaking the silence. “He wants access to the Mother Blessed—Allyra specifically, for her connection to Yllsora. We can hand her over together. Forget this night happened,” Therian bargained with Malik.
Malik lowered his sword and stepped in front of me. "You're a fool if you think I would agree to that."
"What are you talking about, Therian?" I asked, not moving from behind Malik, my mind reeling with what he could mean, how he could possibly know what the mainland king could want with me and why he seemed so eager to comply.
"The king anticipates burning Rida to be difficult and knows that his men will have to be careful or else risk their deaths as well. He needs you to commune with the roots while they do what needs to be done. Keep them calm so they do not attack."
Every part of me went still at Therian's words.
I had wondered, on occasion, in the quiet hours of the night, if my husband had continued to work with the mainland king after our marriage, secretly telling him all the movements of the Mother Blessed in Sorrel, and more importantly, if he told the king about me and my ability to feel Yllsora and how it could be abused.
This only confirmed that my suspicions were correct, and that I was right to keep him at an arm's distance all these years.
"And when he is done with me?" I asked.
"That is his business," Therian said.
"And how do you know that this is what the king wants of her?" Malik asked, standing taller before me.
"I've never lost contact with the mainland since I came here. I knew of the king's arrival before you crested our shores. I made a deal with him and now he has come to collect."
"Why?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
Therian turned towards me. "Because Yllsora is dying.
You know this. That much is obvious to anyone who pays attention.
It is also obvious that the Mother Blessed are not doing enough about it, so the mainland king wants to take matters into his own hands.
He wants to hold the power where you all cannot. "
"And what if the mainland king is playing you for a fool?" Malik asked.
"That is for me to worry about. So, give me my wife and we can all move on from this," Therian said to Malik.
"Not a chance," Malik said, pushing me further behind him before bringing his sword up once more. But he wasn't fast enough. Therian brought his sword down at the same moment, pushing forward in an attempt to get to me, Malik shuffling both of us out of the way just in time.
"Get out of here, Allyra," Malik said as he released me, turning to face Therian again.
"You act so noble, but you come here and try to take what isn't yours," Therian spat at Malik. "There is nothing noble about you."
"She was promised to me first, but even then, a woman is not something to be traded," Malik growled at Therian. "She is not a prize to be claimed."
"And yet you showed up to Sorrel trying to claim her for your own benefit."
Malik stumbled at Therian's statement, his sword arm dropping for just a moment.
"We came to reinstate peace between our families, not cause a war," Malik countered.
"It seems you have failed spectacularly if that was your objective. Your fathers are at one another's throats because of what you did. Work with me, and the fighting will end and you could get back in everyone's good graces."
"That is the last thing I will ever do," Malik growled, moving away from Therian and taking me with him.
Therian prowled after Malik, unused to men disobeying his commands.
They began to fight once more, moving swiftly, the clash of steel ringing, their swords glinting in the moonlight.
I stumbled away from them, pressing myself up against the temple wall, watching as Therian brought his blade close enough to Malik's throat to cause me to panic, for me to wonder what would happen if somehow Malik didn't make it out of this alive.
I felt helpless watching them, until Malik shoved Therian back with the hilt of his pommel against Therian's chest, catapulting him into the wall of the temple opposite of me. Therian lost his footing for a moment before he was back swinging at Malik, the tip of his blade slicing across his brow.
Before I could blink, Malik's sword was rounding his body, preparing to swing towards Therian. Only, Therian was too fast, catching Malik's blade with his own, right at his neck. One move and either of them could end this in a wave of blood I was not prepared for.
Maybe it was the feeling of panic deep within Yllsora, or maybe it was the sight of Malik and Therian dueling one another that made me do it, but before I could think otherwise, I ran forward and dropped to my knees, digging my hands into the dirt at the base of the Astaros.
Dirt nestled its way under my fingernails, and I pushed into the earth, willing the roots to rise, the sound of fighting in the center of the village only emphasizing the growing chaos inside the temple between Malik and Therian, and now the roots and myself.
I pushed and pushed, fighting against their biting cold as they refused me, focusing my efforts towards the roots surrounding Therian as I urged them to rise from the frozen earth. To grab hold of him and stop this fight.
What I was doing was a risk, and my only advantage was my sensitivity to Yllsora, the ability to feel when the roots would finally strike.
The more I sunk into the roots, the more I felt their icy tendrils pushing their chill into my body, making a home there.
I gasped, the feeling pricking throughout my entire body, but I kept pushing, giving more of myself to the roots, risking my safety and my power to stop this fight, to give Malik and I a chance to escape this place.
I watched as, finally, the roots shot towards Therian, wrapping around his ankles, and yanking him backward, causing him to fall to the ground, to be dragged away from Malik right before he could strike a fatal blow.
Therian looked down and saw what had interfered, his gaze swinging to me, his brow twisted with anger, but also betrayal, as though he'd thought so much more of me than this.
I knew he always saw me as pliant and easy to mold, but there was so much of myself I hid from him, even from the start.
When we married, hiding that fiercer side of myself was my only defense, just in case Therian were to suddenly turn on me one day.
I just never thought that day would actually come.
I pulled my hands from the dirt, my fingers dirtied and sore from the push and pull between me and the roots.
"You will regret this, Allyra," Therian growled, fighting against the roots that continued to make their way up his body.
I trembled as I stood before him, a cold ache snaking through me.
There was nothing I could say in that moment, nothing that would encompass all the strife I had been through, and the way Therian's constant ignorance had only made my disdain for him grow.
Even so, he did not deserve an explanation, did not deserve the effort, as I knew they would fall on deaf ears.
So, I turned, and left him without another word.