Chapter Seven #2
So I listened. I flexed my muscles and nodded to Castor who swung at me again and again with all the ferocity of a legendary hero’s second in command.
Valin barked orders from the side to compliment Castor’s every now and then.
I took them all in stride, committing their instructions to memory as I leapt and dodged and survived.
I fought until my arms were so sore I could barely raise my sword, until my legs felt as though they might give out at any moment, until my mind was fuzzy with exhaustion and unable to keep up with the rapid movements of my body.
Only then did Valin announce my training for the day was complete.
Nodding to Castor in appreciation of his tutelage, I excused myself and left in search of a meal before making my way to Kleio’s home for my afternoon lessons in magic, same as every day.
My exhaustion always remained. What energy Valin and Castor did not manage to drain during morning sparring, Kleio always managed to destroy in our lessons with magic.
But I was getting stronger, both mentally and physically, I could feel it.
The aches turned sweet rather than sore, my mind grew clearer, the magic within me became easier to grasp.
Until finally, over a week into my training, Kleio announced we could move on from the senses.
“Not because you've mastered them,” he clarified, holding up a finger, “but because necessity and the powers that be have determined you need to progress in other skills sooner than previously anticipated.”
Brows furrowed in confusion of what that might mean, I opened my mouth to question him but was interrupted by a soft knock on the door behind us.
Kleio’s gaze flicked immediately to the door at our backs.
The way his lips parted slightly told me he hadn't been expecting a visitor. He rose and made his way to the door.
I waited where I stood in the common living space as he opened the door. I watched as every muscle in his body tensed immediately. Curious, I made my way around the massive dining table covered in maps and documents of all sorts to get a better view of Kleio’s guest.
“Callidora,” he breathed before I could properly see her.
But when I made my way up behind him, there she was.
She was unmistakable in her gauzy white gown which looped around her arms in a way that exposed the gleaming tanned skin of her shoulders and fell to the floor in rivers of shimmering white fabric, pure as snow.
Her sparkling blue eyes darted from Kleio to me and her pale pink lips stretched into an ethereal smile.
“Kleio,” she dipped her head elegantly in greeting. “Dante.”
I froze, every muscle locked in anticipation. The Lord of the Geist’s own sister, the only being in all of Pavos who truly had Deimos’ ear. I thought back to Castor’s warning the night before. I’d refused Deimos’ gift. Was she here to take me to him? Or to dole out my punishment herself?
“What are you doing here?” Kleio asked, surprise evident in his tone.
“My brother has sent me to check on the young Victor’s progress,” she replied easily, breezing past us into the small cabin my mentor called home.
She strode through the living room as though it was her own, eyes darting from corner to corner, falling upon the documents open on every surface, pausing at one or two to run her slender fingers over the ancient script.
She turned back to us, the cascade of her long, blonde curls shifting over her shoulder as she did.
“I'm here to observe," she announced. "I presume that will not be an issue.”
I expected Kleio to answer right away, to affirm we had nothing to hide and that the Lord of the Geist’s sister herself was always welcome in his home. But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all. After a moment, his silence drew my attention back to him.
He looked as though he’d seen a ghost. He stood in his open doorway and stared at Callidora where she stood beside his dining room table with wide-eyed shock.
I nudged him but he didn't so much as blink.
Slowly, Callidora raised a brow and I answered for him before the silence could stretch on any longer.
“Of course you're welcome…my lady,” I blurted.
She dipped her head serenely in thanks and turned back to the document she'd been analyzing before. I elbowed Kleio in the ribs, harder this time, and he seemed to snap out of it, blinking back to reality and finally turning his gaze from Callidora to face me.
“Right,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Moving on from the senses then.”
“Strength?” I guessed, hoping to keep him talking so he didn't revert to that strange stupor of before.
“No." He shook his head. “You utilize your enhanced strength every morning in your sparring.
I'd say you've practiced it enough. And it won't be underwater breathing either. That's of little use in the desert. Though, it does have its importance which we’ll discuss at a later date. No. Today, we focus on healing. Dositea!”
In the silence that followed, the click of Kleio’s bedroom door opening seemed to echo in the small home.
We all turned to find a small woman emerging from the room, head bowed low as she strode toward where we stood in the center of the common area.
She was small, perhaps a whole foot shorter than me, with a tiny, birdlike frame, and the absence of that telltale glow. Human, I realized.
I turned a narrowed glare on Kleio.
“What's the meaning of this?” I asked, unsettled by the girl’s shaking frame, her inability to meet my eye.
Kleio just squared his shoulders and met my gaze.
“Training,” he reminded me, tone brusque.
“I don’t understand—”
“Heal her.”
With that, he pulled a knife from his pocket and slit the girl’s throat.
“Gods!” I cursed, forgetting I was currently in the room with two of them.
I lunged forward to catch the woman before she fell.
Blood spurted from her open neck, spraying my face, my chest, my clothes, as I caught her and cradled her against me. Her eyes were wide, her fingers clawing at her ruined throat. Her lips opened and closed but only blood bubbled out between them.
“Are you insane?” I cried, looking up at Kleio.
His lips were set in a grim line but I could see the aversion in his expression. It was clear he didn't necessarily enjoy employing such tactics. But he made no move to help either.
“Heal her,” he repeated, a sense of urgency entering his tone. “She doesn’t have long, Dante. Seconds, not minutes.”
“I don’t know how!” I screamed.
He blinked down at me, unsettled for the first time.
“You didn’t study your Blessings?” Callidora asked from the table behind us. “You were given the gift of healing and you never used it?”
“We could only heal each other,” I explained quickly.
My hands were coated in blood now that I was applying pressure to the girl’s neck, trying to keep her alive for as long as possible.
The warmth had leeched from her skin already.
Her eyelids were drooping, her lips opening and closing far less frequently.
Callidora and Kleio exchanged a glance, but I didn’t have time to figure out what that might mean.
I flexed my fingers, pressing them into the wound.
I'd never done this before, never healed anyone, but Adrian had.
And she'd described it to me in great detail while I remained bed bound for days after losing my arm in the fifth Trial.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember her words, pushing past the pain I felt at even thinking her name once more.
I could hear her voice in my mind, the way she'd described what she'd done and how incredible it had been.
I could hear her, see her, almost smell her.
“Dante—” Kleio started.
“Quiet,” I snapped, concentrating.
My fingers were shaking, my breaths coming in heaving gasps, but I heard it all the same. The heartbeat. Faint but there, growing fainter every second. I could feel it as well, in my fingertips, the steady thumping of her heart. It was exactly how Adrian said it would be.
I reached for that beat, wrapping my magic around it, strengthening it.
Then I plucked at the threads of flesh and vein I could see in my mind’s eye, weaving them together with a light mental touch.
It felt right, this magic. It felt good.
My fingers twitched with the movements I was completing in my mind.
Reconnecting the artery, knitting the muscle and flesh back together.
I'd never had the best grasp on human anatomy but I didn’t need it.
I could see when something was broken which needed healed and the magic itself seemed to guide my hands in an effort to fix it.
Because it belonged that way, I realized. Because it wanted to be whole.
I didn't open my eyes until I could sense the skin was whole again, until I felt the girl’s heartbeat, strong and thumping wildly against her chest, until the blood dried on my hands and my fingers ceased their shaking.
When I finally raised my gaze to the girl, I found her watching me with wide eyes, hands around her healed throat, staring back at me in wonder.
I pulled my hands away from her, leaving her where she laid on Kleio’s blood-stained rug. My eyes snapped up to Callidora and Kleio who were both watching me with wide eyes, jaws slightly unhinged.
“Dante—” Kleio began, but I didn’t wait to hear the rest.
I turned on my feet and stormed to the door, wrenching it open and striding into the midday sun. I only made it three steps before I bent over and heaved the contents of my meager lunch over the garden gate and onto the white lilies below.