Chapter 18
KALLIE
"It's not fair!" Kallie shouted, her fists slamming against the ground.
"What's not fair?" a boy much taller than her, with shaggy black hair, asked. He peered at her with silver eyes, his brows drawing together and a wrinkle creasing the center of his forehead.
"I'm too little!" Kallie said through the tears that began to roll down her cheeks.
"Little?" the boy repeated, brow arching curiously.
Kallie nodded, biting her lip.
Her brothers had already sprinted ahead, their legs longer and stronger than hers. Even though she had tried to run faster, Kallie couldn't keep up. They were four years older than her and over twice her size.
It wasn't fair. She wanted to play with them, to be as fast as them.
But every time she ran after them, they hurried away, faster and faster than she could force her feet to go.
The boy looked at Kallie. Unlike when the adults around her peered at her, he didn't look down at her. He sank to the ground, propping himself up on one knee.
While he wasn't her brother, he lived in the castle with them. When Kallie had asked her mother where his family was, her mother said they were his family since his mother had left this world long ago. Although Kallie didn't understand what that meant, she didn't mind him being around, for he was always kind to her.
When her brothers would push her down or run away from her, he was always at her side, pulling her up. He didn't have to. She wasn't his responsibility.
Her brothers were the ones who were supposed to be taking care of her; at least, that's what her mother and the caretakers reminded the young princes before they traipsed through the castle's forest like hooligans.
Yet the boy with the sad silver eyes and raven-black hair was always the one who made sure Kallie didn't get hurt and left behind.
"Kal, you're not little," he said softly.
"Mhm! Little like... like..." Kallie bit her lip, looking around the forest. A gray furry critter scurried across the ground, over the roots and leaves. "A mouse!"
The boy chuckled. "You're little like a mouse?"
She nodded frantically.
He reached out a hand and pulled a leaf from her long brown waves. "Well, little mouse, do you want to know a secret?"
Kallie looked at him with wide eyes as if he held the entire world in his palm. "Yes!"
"Shh," he said, raising a finger to his lips. "Do you remember what we do with secrets?"
Kallie nodded enthusiastically, mimicking his gesture. She listened with eager ears as he wiped the tears from her cheek.
"A mouse may be small, but it is a mighty little creature."
"Mighty?" Kallie repeated the word, chewing on it. She didn't know what it meant, but the way he said it made it sound like it was a good thing.
"Mhm. Mighty," he said, nodding. "It means strong."
Kallie narrowed her eyes as she pursed her lips. "Small but mighty?"
"That's right. And you'll grow taller eventually."
Kallie perked up. "Taller than Fynn and Ter?"
The boy chuckled. Long strands of hair fell in his face, and he pushed them back as he leaned on his heels. He shrugged. "Probably not."
"Taller than Gray?" she asked, poking him in the chest.
Shaking his head, he chuckled more this time, his eyes alight with amusement. "Most definitely not."
Kallie pouted and sank into the dirt.
"Come now, princesses do not pout."
Kallie shook her head. "Little mouse," she whined.
Gray stood, his body towering over hers. But when he looked at her, he neither looked at her as if she was smaller or weaker than him, nor as if she was just some annoyance that followed after them.
"You may be small, little mouse, but you are mighty and fierce." He reached out a hand. Kallie wiped away the last remnants of her tears and wrapped her fingers around his. He murmured, "Never forget who you are."
Never forget who you are.
Kallie's eyes shot open.
Sharp, cool air burned her lungs. The stench of smoke was long gone, replaced with the faint smell of moss and bergamot. While the fresh, clean air should have been a relief, it wasn't.
As various images flashed across her mind, anger quickly filled her veins.
A bloody, severed head.
A scimitar gleaming in the sunlight.
Sharp silver eyes staring down at her.
Terin's hands wrapped around Graeson's throat.
As each image passed, a spark ignited in her mind. At first, it was small--a puff of smoke, a strike of a match. But then, a breeze swept across her, and the flames burst to life, consuming every inch of her body.
She had been taken. Again .
Her entire body vibrated with red-hot fury.
How long had she been out? Where had the Pontians taken her?
Although her memory was hazy, she couldn't recall the nauseating rocking of the ocean, only the faint memory of horses' hooves pounding the ground. She had to have been on the mainland still. At least, she hoped.
No matter where she was, she would wreak havoc.
For the past few months, Kallie had blamed herself for everything that had ensued. She had blamed herself for the death of Fynn, for the homes of innocents burning to the ground on the shore of the Red Sea.
She hadblamed herself for failing her father time and time again.
She had forgotten who she was. But she was Kalisandre Helene Domitius, and she had vowed to set the world aflame.
Despite knowing exactly what Kallie could do, the Pontians seemed not to have learned their lesson last time.
Because when Kallie twisted her wrist slightly, she found her hand unbound.
They trusted too easily, and their mistake would be their undoing.
Kallie's limbs felt heavy, and a prickling sensation crept over her skin, freezing her in place. She refrained from moving, lest she rouse someone's suspicions, and contained her rising terror. Panicking would only get her killed.
No, she needed to assess the situation first.
Her vision was slow to adjust, however. In the thick darkness that enveloped her, her surroundings slowly came into focus as she listened.
Muffled noises echoed from somewhere outside the room. Although Kallie couldn't make out their words, she could identify several indistinct voices. Somewhere nearby, an owl called out into the night, and a chilly breeze kissed her neck, the smell of moss and mold growing stronger.
Quietly, she looked to her right and spotted a cracked window. Moonlight seeped into the room, casting a faint glow across the floors. Small tables were scattered across the large space, the moon's rays catching on the glass vials. A couple of small, empty beds sat between her and the window.
Kallie's brows twisted together. She wasn't in a bedroom then, but rather what appeared like an infirmary.
Close by, there was a slight creaking of wood.
Kallie stilled, her heart hammering. Soon, the creaking disappeared, the sound falling away, and she waited with bated breath.
When nothing came of it, she reached down to the pit of her stomach, and tendrils of her gift stirred eagerly as if her power had been waiting for her to wake.
It's now or never , she told herself.
Gently, she pushed herself to a seated position. Her vision blurred, the familiar warning of a migraine stirring.
Although her limbs ached as if she had been sedentary for much too long, Kallie pushed through it. She looked to the right and quickly muffled her gasp with a hand. Her other hand gripped the stiff cotton sheets, her fingers curling as her chest rose.
There, on the last bed, lay a ghost.
The moon's glow through the window brushed upon her brother's face. But despite the constant back and forth between dreams and reality, Kallie knew she was not sleeping or imagining things.
Fynn was not lying on the bed but rather Terin.
Terin's hair was disheveled and strewn across his face, cutting across his features. In the moonlight, his tan skin had a sickly green hue. The skin beneath his eyes was a deep purple as if he hadn't slept in weeks.
Pain spiked her head, and she balled the sheet tighter within her palms.
Kallie shook away the rising pity she felt for the Pontian prince. He may have shared her blood, but blood meant nothing when the person abandoned and lied to you.
Terin's bed, however, was right next to the door.
He had yet to stir, his breathing still even.
Kallie's hand went to her thigh where she had strapped the dagger before the wedding, but it was gone, of course. She scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon.
If this was an infirmary, there had to be a scalpel or something else she could use. Cabinets lined the wall near the cracked door, and she bit her lip.
She would have to be quick and quiet.
Tossing her legs over the bed, Kallie stood. When she straightened, her legs wobbled, and she grappled for the wall, her palm pressing against it for stability.
Being quick, unfortunately, would not be an option if she could barely stand.
She took a deep breath in and counted to four in her mind. She held the oxygen in her mouth for five seconds, steadying herself and calming her raging thoughts before she exhaled.
Then, on quiet, unsteady feet, Kallie crept toward the nearest table. She searched through the instruments but found only strips of cotton, gauze, and miscellaneous herbs. She sifted through several drawers, finding only aprons, linens, and flimsy gowns.
"Shit," Kallie hissed when she pulled open the last drawer and discovered only more sheets. She shut the dresser, the vials on top shaking slightly from the force.
Cursing, she looked over her shoulder but found Terin still asleep. She sighed in relief.
Hurrying to the cracked window, she pried it open. The wood creaked as the hinges turned. Her heart thundered, but she didn't dare waste any more time. She pushed open the window the rest of the way and quickly surveyed the environment.
All around the property, tall, foreign, white-barked trees covered the area as far as she could see through the darkness of night.
Kallie looked down.
Shit!
Her fingers curled around the window's ledge. She was too high to jump without hurting herself in the process. Her eyes widened, an idea spinning together.
She hurried to the dresser and pulled the sheets out, constantly checking if Terin had awoken. Quickly tying the sheets together, Kallie tossed one end of the makeshift rope out the window and tied the other to the nearest bed anchored to the floor.
Kallie lifted herself onto the windowsill, her legs dangling from the ledge. Sending a silent prayer to the gods, she twisted around and grabbed onto the sheet with a deadly grip as she began her descent.
Just one foot after another. That's all she needed--
A tear in sheet ripped through the silence, the top of the sheet snagging on a jagged piece of metal that Kallie hadn't seen. If she was quick enough--
The tear spread even further the moment she shifted.
Quickly, Kallie reached for the window ledge, trying to find purchase, but her nails only clawed at the wall. As the fabric ripped, Kallie squeezed her eyes shut as she prepared for the inevitable fall.
A hand suddenly gripped hers, and Kallie's eyes sprung open.
Eyes sharp as steel stared down at her. "Going somewhere, little mouse?" Graeson said, his voice low and sending a vibration through her core.
"Let me go," Kallie spat.
"I don't think so."
Before Kallie could argue more, Graeson was yanking her up and back through the window. His large hands wrapped around her, pulling her inside.
He pressed her back against the wall, his hands gripping her arms.
"What was the plan, Kalisandre?" Graeson asked, his voice low and cold. "Jump out the window and hope the swamp cushioned your fall?"
Kallie jerked against his hold, but that only caused him to tighten his grip. Her gift stirred within the pit of her stomach, but she knew it was useless. Graeson was immune to her manipulations.
"Oh, come on, Kalisandre, don't act like you aren't at least a little happy to see me."
"Happy? You kidnapped me!" Kallie frantically scanned the wall, searching for anything she could use to aid her. From the corner of her eye, she saw the flicker of light. " Again."
His lips parted, but the words struggled to come out.
Kallie, however, didn't waste the opportunity his pause provided her. She wiggled a hand free from his loosened grasp and struck the mirror on the wall beside her. Before the shards fell, she snatched a piece of glass.
"You should have gone home when you had the chance," Kallie said, gripping the glass. The sharp edges cut the inside of her palm, and warm blood began to drip down her wrist, but she ignored it.
"And you should have never left," Graeson said, briefly observing the shard of glass before returning his cautious silver eyes to her.
Everywhere Graeson touched, hot fury heated her skin, burning her from the inside out. Her fingers wrapped tighter around the glass, the edges piercing deeper into her flesh. Even the pain slicing through her hand couldn't sedate the rage that rose within her blood.
"The last thing I remember was that I was home."
Graeson scoffed, his leg pressed against her thigh. His eyes were a brilliant silver in the moonlight, as bright as a scorching fire. "Frenzia is not your home."
Kallie reared her hand back. Graeson dogged. Then, in one quick maneuver, he gripped her wrist, shaking her hand free of the glass. Kallie struggled against him, her arm pushing back against his, but his grip was too tight.
"You do not want to play this game with me right now," Graeson warned, his words clipped. "You're not yourself. I do not wish to hurt you."
"Hurt me?" Kallie laughed, the sound bitter and cold, even to her. "You think you have that much effect on me?"
"Kalisandre."
The rising spikes of a headache began to form, and she tried to shake it away.
Graeson was her enemy, not her savior.
She seethed, "If you cared for me as much as you claim to, you would have never taken me in the first place."
"I took you because I care for you! Can't you see that?"
Regret and sorrow glistened in Graeson's gaze, but Kallie refused to accept it. Not when his words never seemed to line up with his actions.
"You care, so you kidnapped me? Is that it?" Kallie looked at the wrist, which he was still gripping. "Did you finally run out of your supply of rope?"
Confusion contorted Graeson's features as he looked at Kallie's wrist. His grip loosened momentarily, and she let her body become dead weight suddenly. She sunk to the ground and slipped between Graeson's legs before he even had the chance to register what had happened. Adrenaline pumped in her veins as she snatched the shard of glass and faced Graeson.
"Kalisandre, you don't want to--"
Graeson shouted in pain as Kallie drove the shard of glass into his side.
Kallie didn't waste time. She spun and ran.
"Leaving so soon, Princess?"
Kallie skirted to a stop as she nearly ran into Dani, who appeared at the door.
A sneer ripped across Dani's face, her golden-hazel eyes aflame. Kallie's lips parted, the command on her tongue. But before she could utter a word, Dani spun Kallie around, locking her arms behind her back and placing a gag in her mouth.
"Your gift is useless without your voice, is it not?" Dani spat as Kallie hit the floor, and Dani's knees pressed against her spine.
Kallie struggled against Dani's hold, a muffled scream bursting from her lips.
Graeson said something across the room, but Kallie couldn't hear it as her anger roared in her ears.
She would not let them win. She couldn't.
Flashbacks of Kallie beneath the tree flooded her mind.
She would not be rendered helpless.
She kicked, struggled, and made it as hard as possible for Dani to get a hold of her.
Ahead of her, Graeson rippedthe shard of glass from his side, and sticky blood coated his fingers. He pressed his hand against the wound and stepped forward, doubling over.
Kallie's heart thundered, sweat beaded at the base of her next, soaking the back of her hair.
She had to get out of here.
Kallie grabbed onto the tendrils of her gift, tightening them within her hold as Dani snapped metal cuffs to her wrists, the chain connecting them clanging together.
"Grab him!" Dani shouted.
As chaos erupted around her, Kallie released the command, and the sound of pounding boots filled the air as figures dashed past her.