Chapter Nineteen
As much as Cary's appreciated a private supper, discontent lingered. It didn't help that Cal, now included in Meical's inner circle, stared at her throughout the meal. She supposed he still resented the time that she sent him into the snake pit.
A story that Meical enjoyed telling.
"My sister is more ruthless than a Curse Creature." Meical raised his goblet. "If she wasn't so busy, I'd have weeded out the broken reeds."
Bradon curled his lip. "How fortunate this young warrior was not a broken reed," he said, as if he thought the opposite.
"Aye," Meical said, either missing or ignoring Bradon's pointed tone. "We will need as many lionhearted warriors as possible for the next attack."
Carys' attention drifted as they started talking war plans.
Her neck burned as Cal's black eyes remained fixed on her.
The young warrior probably thought that she threatened his chance of finding a higher position with Meical.
She distracted herself with the food, which was much more appetizing than the communal meal.
Heavy seasons concealed the foul taste of Curse Creature meat, blue cheese, barley bread, little cakes, and eggs.
The origin of the eggs always nauseated her.
Her mouth watered at the sight of apples from the impossible tree. As she bit down on a wickedly juicy slice, it reminded her of what she needed to discuss with Meical.
But war plans still occupied him. "I need to find a way to entice Curselord Tadas. Aside from Curselord Kieran, he has the largest force of mages and beasts."
Nyx sliced off a hunk of blue cheese. "Didn't he turn you down flat last time?"
Meical tore into a rough chunk of meat, as if tearing into the recalcitrant Tadas.
"Last time it would have been suicide to join the mission," he said, after swallowing.
"It will be different now that we've the prince.
But that bastard won't take my word and won't come here to find out for himself. "
Bradon leaned forward, candlelight dancing on his impassive face. "Didn't you try to kill him during his last visit?"
Meical slammed his dagger into the table. "I didn't like the way that he looked at Carys!"
Everyone froze at his temper, but Carys just sighed. "I can take care of myself. That was a considerable time ago, and he only lusted for my power. I've heard he participated in a Curse Ceremony with some unfortunate witch. So he couldn't get his lecherous hands on me, even if he desired."
"Wives have a mysterious way of disappearing when they become inconvenient." Meical stared into his goblet. "I need him on our side, but I won't risk my sister."
Carys was caught between resentment and a sweet warmth that her brother didn't want to risk her.
"Why don't we just have her wed someone else?" the practical Bradon proposed. "If she's locked in a marriage, none of these warlords would look at her." He shrugged. "Or at least they wouldn't have a chance at marriage."
She scowled and her glass of wine shot across the room, crashing into the wall, staining it with scarlet. "I shouldn't have to marry anyone!"
Gil recoiled from her anger, and Cal dropped his dagger. Bradon, one of the few indifferent to her temper, remained unruffled. "Surely you aren't suggesting the world is fair? We all make sacrifices. This would keep you safe and off limits during negotiations with the warlords."
Her dagger began spinning on the table as she fought the desire to plunge it in his heart.
"I'm trying to unite these bastards. If Carys were to marry, it would be an insult to someone," Meical said, evading the subject. "Mind you, she's the key to controlling the prince. I refuse to hand that sort of power to anyone."
"You can still keep the power."
Meical downed his ale, scrunching his face in disgust. "I'm not wedding my own sister. I don't care what the dirty minds of the Starlands think of us, I will never do something so foul."
Bradon exhaled. "That wasn't my meaning, my lord. She could wed the shapeshifter or Cal, and that wouldn't threaten any lord's power. The prince would remain in your hands, and the balance of power in the Curselands would remain disturbed."
Carys stiffened as Gil burst into a fit of coughing. He wouldn't meet her eyes. It would be suicide to show any hint of desire.
Not that there would be any hint of desire. His affections were for someone else at the table.
She raised her head in Cal's direction, surprised to find that he still stared at her. Not stupid enough to reveal eagerness, but there was something peculiar about his gaze.
Nyx scoffed. "Gil or Cal? I believe you forgot to mention your own name."
Bradon grunted. "I didn't forget anything. I would never presume—"
"No one." Meical pounded his goblet on the table. "I am not binding my sister to anyone just because it would be convenient. She is a witch, not a thing."
Carys smiled. "Thank you, Meical."
Now that she held her brother's attention, she broached the subject of what Aidan's blood, producing the grass as proof. All, except for Meical, leaned forward to see the scarlet splattered grass. Even the dour Bradon appeared awed.
Her brother remained inscrutable. "I'd have thought the poison of this land would have affected his magic by now. I'm surprised it's still so pure."
"He's a direct descendant of the original Star Mages." Bradon shrugged. "Likely it affords him stronger protection against the rot of the realm."
"I think we could do more with his power." Carys flipped an apple slice back and forth. "Grow some food, heal the land."
Meical frowned. "The plan is to leave this hellhole. I don't want to drain the Dalon bastard while we still have need of him."
If he thought this would delay the invasion, he would never agree. She took a deep breath. "I think with the right process, we wouldn't drain him. Wouldn't it be more helpful for the warriors and those who serve you to have decent food. No one would be weakened from contaminated food..."
That was the wrong argument.
He linked his fingers together. "If people aren't strong enough to serve me, they may as well perish."
Carys couldn't counter the Law of the Beasts. She needed another tactic. "If we had more food, Curse Creatures wouldn't have to be slaughtered for meat. You would have more beasts to set upon the Starlands."
He scratched his beard, as if considering her words.
Bradon tore off a piece of bread. "This could help with the negotiations with your fellow lords."
Nyx stabbed her knife into meat, as if skewering Bradon's heart. "How could it possibly help?"
Bradon tapped a blade of grass. "More wonders and resources would entice the lords. We might have something to offer."
Nyx leaned closer to Meical than Carys wanted to see. "And, if the lords decide to be arses, we can always lure their underlings. People already come to you, Meical, because you offer them something better. You don't sacrifice the people under you for your own gain."
Bradon's face twisted as Nyx fed an apple slice to Meical. "It's more important to gain the support of your fellow lords and not look like you are picking away their own followers. This might persuade the lords that Meical is the only way back to the Starlands."
"You don't want those selfish bastards." Nyx waved her hand. "It's the people that matter."
Nyx's fingers lingered on Meical's mouth as he finished chewing the apple slice.
"People do love anything that has the taste of the Starlands," he murmured.
"Lords or followers, I can make use of it.
Carys? Do what you will with the prince.
Bradon? If anything comes of it, spread the world. We'll see who bites."
Carys' gaze rested on the grass and she gave a discreet sigh of relief. She tried imagining the dead Curselands covered in green, the stench of death smothered by sweet flowers, and the cool sensation of pure water. Like the rain from her limited time in the Starlands.
She couldn't imagine it. The bloody blades of grass remained abandoned on the table, taunting her. The Curselands would always be a carcass.
But if she could create a patch of green, even a single flower, that would be better than nothing.
As with every private meal, Meical and Nyx progressed from lustful behavior to lewd acts. Bradon seemed to struggle at hiding his fury as the two of them touched and licked, showing no regard for anyone else's comfort.
Carys wanted to vomit.
Everyone made excuses to leave. Bradon, who controlled his anger better than most in the Curselands, asked Gil to accompany him to his quarters.
A spy mission, but Gil perked up. Most wouldn't perceive his excitement, but Carys knew him too well.
A little taller, a firmer jaw and more muscles than were part of Gil's form.
She never understood why he reacted that way to Bradon. If Bradon had a heart, a doubtful prospect, it only had room for Meical. It would be more understandable if it was simple lust. Sometimes she believed she was the only one immune from lust in the Curselands.
Although Aidan would have an immunity. She couldn't imagine the proper prince feeling anything more than pure love for his own betrothed.
But the happiness in Gil's very being indicated something more. She didn't understand those feelings, especially regarding someone who would never return his affections. Perhaps it was because Gil hadn't grown up in the Curselands.
The thoughts and questions made Carys burn with discomfort. But she could never ask Gil, unable to bear the look of pity that would follow.
Despite having his hands full with Nyx, Meical had enough presence of mind to command Cal to escort Carys back to her quarters.
Irritation clawed at Carys. "By the Blood Dragon, I don't require an escort. My room is right down the hall."
Meical ignored her. "Cal? If you don't see her there safely, Nyx is getting some new jewels."
The audacious Cal's look of horror would have been amusing if she hadn't been so aggravated.
She couldn't shake him after Meical's threat.
The hall was a lot longer than she made it sound, leading all the way to the other side of the vast Ghost Tower.
Torches on the wall only added a scrap of gloomy light, and unsettling forms shifted in the shadows.
But, as only the privileged were permitted to lodge on the ninth floor, the trip was safe.
Deep down, she understood it was a fantasy. Nothing was safe in the Curselands.
Cal offered his arm to her, and she stared at it like it was a python. After an awkward length of time, he withdrew it. Gil shot her a sympathetic look, but still hastened after Bradon.
The unbearable silence compelled Carys to speak. "I apologize for my brute of a brother. I'd tell you to leave, but I understand the price of defying Meical."
Cal snorted. "I don't suppose the price would ever apply to you."
She forced herself to meet his expressionless black eyes. "I'm not stupid enough to test his patience."
They walked slowly down the hall. Her body tensed, wanting to run to her room. But she refused to appear weak.
She didn't know what to make of Cal. The Curselands hadn't worn on his appearance.
Somewhat clean and combed dark hair, height and muscles helpful for the harsh conditions, and the inevitable swirl of black magic concealing his true eye color.
She understood his looks were appealing while feeling no particular attraction.
Lust disgusted her. It rendered weak men pathetic and strong men into monsters.
When she spied Aidan with his princess through the Seeing Water, she knew the prince was no better. Now she wasn't as certain. His utter joy at seeing Bella, even when he couldn't partake of her flesh, seemed at odds with what she learned in the Curselands.
That's what Nyx didn't understand. An unselfishness ran through Aidan's affections, alien to Carys.
It resulted in grim feelings about her own lacking and solidified her distaste for Cal.
She had no logical reason to dislike him for attacking Aidan.
He was following the Law of the Beasts. Do what you will.
But it was a waste of time to attack Aidan, the only denizen of the Starlands who didn't deserve retribution.
"I apologize for that talk of marriage." Cal laughed, shaking Carys out of her thoughts. "I would never presume that far."
"Most men do." She ran her hand across the stone wall. "I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. My magic is quite alluring."
"Are you certain it's your magic that is alluring?"
She blinked. "What else could it be?"
He smiled. A crooked smile, but it did wonders on his iron face. "Your fairness brings to mind the moonlight of the Starlands."
The compliment fell flat. Her only image of the moon was a large white circle woven on her brother's tapestry of a starry night.
"I've never seen the moon," she said, as toneless as the dead.
She inhaled, lowering her head and not speaking another word during the long walk down the hall. Thankfulness filled her when Cal remained silent. The only sound was his boots scuffing the floor and the faint echo of howling from outside the walls.
As they reached her door, she looked up at him. Lust lingered on his face, but something else. Something she just couldn't understand.
"You needn't say such things to me," Carys said before she could stop herself. "We're all beasts down here, I've no need of false praise."
"Perhaps I wrong you to compare you to the false beauty of the Starlands." He ruffled his hair and gave a sheepish chuckle. "You are a lamb in appearance with the eyes of a beast."
That compliment also fell flat on her. She hated appearing helpless, but despised her beastly nature.
"Please don't waste your words on me." She folded her arms. "Find another maiden with magic."
He leaned so close that she smelled his breath. "You are the only one who tossed me into a pit of snakes."
She held her breath, curious if he would kiss her. The only kisses she ever received were from maidens in sacrifice rituals—she could scarcely imagine a kiss without the flavor of cursed bovine.
Before he moved any closer, her magic attacked on its own, tearing open her door. She backed into the room, her power slamming the door shut on Cal's confused face.
She turned from her own tapestry of a starry night sky and went over to her window. Red and gray stretched on for miles. A patch of grass would never add beauty to the land.
Cal's expression ate away at her. Shame rose as she warmed at someone finding her attractive. One thing interested Cal. Nobody would care about her if not for her power. Not even her brother or Gil.
Only one person in the Curselands didn't lust for her power. But he would never look at her with any kind of lust.
He was occupied with staring at true beauty.