29
Kora
Weak, pathetic human.
Kora’s eyes flew open, a familiar stench of earth and disinfectant filling her nose.
She was back in the dungeons.
Panic seized her in a chokehold and Kora rolled off the bed onto the white-tiled floor, crisp white sheets tangling with her legs as her body smarted with the descent. Ouch.
Wait . . . white sheets? White floor?
Kora sat up, her vision dizzying as she blinked at the warm, low lighting of the cavernous space.
It stretched long ways, with huge columns, as wide as a ship’s main mast supporting the ceiling covered in stalactites.
Kora frowned as she rubbed her bleary eyes, adjusting to the dim lighting from the rounded, black-ironed chandeliers dangling from the ceiling.
“Hello?” she called.
Two stools were empty on either side of the bed she’d fallen from, and Kora gingerly sat on the side as she cased the space.
She was inside a smaller cavern, with a sweeping glass door separating her from what she assumed was the infirmary, but granting her the spectacular view.
She shuffled forward to the door, peering around.
Multiple small, low-level caverns lined the walls, all with a large glass door and two beds placed inside, some with patients, some empty.
Kora froze. Two beds. She pivoted on her foot and released a small whimper at the figure in the bed beside hers.
She ran, tucking her knees onto the mattress as she curled up beside Erick’s legs.
He looked deathly, the bruises from his imprisonment were healing, but his skin was paper-thin, his cheekbones prominent against dark eyes.
“Erick!” Kora sobbed, her hands trembling over his chest. “Please wake up.” She nibbled her cheek at the small smattering of dried blood on his pillow from an ugly gash near the back of his head.
Bandages had been left on the trolley between their two beds, with an assortment of salves, vials, and herbs.
“Please,” Kora whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks as she gently shook his shoulders. “Please, I need you.”
Erick’s breathing was slow and shallow, and Kora placed her head on his broad chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She closed her eyes, absorbing the sound, the constant drumbeat keeping her anxiety at bay.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered to him.
She had no idea whether he could hear her, and Kora cried into his chest as her fears spilled along with her tears.
“I don’t know what’s real anymore. My mind it .
. . it’s tricking me. I feel like I’m drowning, like I’m going to be crushed at any moment.
I need you here, I need your guidance, I need your assessments. I need you to tell me what to do.”
Kora released an exasperated breath, sitting up.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, and furiously yelled at the empty essence within her once again, her water beast slumbering.
She’d pushed too far again, hadn’t heeded Raiden’s warning of losing her gift.
But she couldn’t control it, her emotions kept surfacing, lashing out at every moment.
Emotions. Don’t let them get the better of you. Please remember that.
Blake’s voice rang true in her head and Kora screamed her anguish, her cry echoing off the walls.
“How can I control whatever is inside of me! It has its own mind—Kordelia’s mind.
We’re two separate people, Erick, how can I handle that?
” His silence continued, of course. “I thought I could recover my past, but it’s never going to happen.
I’m never going to know my family. This thing in my head is dark.
And I feel like it’s eating me from the inside out. ”
Kora faced Erick, half expecting him to rise from his coma from her ranting, providing her with all the answers she could ever need. But his breathing steadily continued, shallow but persistent.
“What do I do? Do I try to tame her? She may have the answers I need.” Kora’s knees quaked, her hands visibly shaking, reminding her of Finlay. “Do I lose myself? My mind? My memories? Please, just tell me. Tell me . . . Father.”
Flashes of Kora’s life flew before her. Of sailing and training with Erick, drinking with Samuel and Finlay, even intimate moments with Blake when all seemed right with the world.
Could she willingly lose all of that, to resurrect a tainted Kordelia, who was corrupted so dark, she may never be the same? All so she could learn of the past?
Familiar cold darkness teased her mind, a stinging sensation running from the scar on her temple, following it down her neck, wrapping around her throat, reminding Kora she would never be free from Barron.
She would never be free from the prison he’d erected within her mind.
“No,” a voice answered.
Kora jolted, her mask slipping into place. Raiden lingered in the glass doorway, his face hardened, a tray delicately held between his hands, but his body radiated violence.
“You will not lose yourself, Huntress. No truth is worth the darkness. I’ll make sure of it.”
She swallowed down the scoff threatening to rise. “How can I trust you? You sought me because of her. You want a different version of me.” And he’d let Agatha die.
Undeniable truth flashed across his face.
Whatever connection they possessed, whatever pulled her towards him, was all because of the corruption within her mind, leaking into her powers.
Raiden and his jolly siblings had rescued Kora in hopes of fixing her.
Into erasing her existence away, and probably disposing of Erick in the process.
Kora shifted, raising a hand to protect Erick’s slumbering body. Raiden’s jaw clenched, and with a sigh, he stooped into the small cavern, placing the tray of sweet treats and savoury pastries, with a steaming mug of something hot on her cot.
“I’m not going to hurt him.” Raiden raised a brow. Kora twitched, her body still vibrating with nervous energy. “I promise you.”
“Galenite promises mean nothing to me,” Kora scorned, as she caught a set of mercenaries hovering outside the door, their familiar armour dredging up the sound of war.
“What about a vow?” Raiden countered.
She studied him for a moment. His crystalised eyes were fascinating, almost reflective, absorbing the tones around him and showcasing them in a dazzling display. She shook her head. Stop staring at him.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Had he known of her vow with Blake? Was he mocking her?
“Look,” Raiden sat down on the bed. “You’ve been let down a lot. Gods, you’ve been through some of the worst horrors. Erick led you to believe we’re the enemy, and it can take a long time to unpick that. But I don’t make promises lightly, Huntress. Not in Galen.”
Kora lowered her arms. “So, you’re going to let me live? Let . . . Kordelia . . . die within?”
Raiden rubbed his jaw, his pain so physically palpable Kora wasn’t sure whether she was genuinely feeling it or if it was through whatever fucked-up connection they had.
“It was never a choice, but I saw inside your mind. She’s not there. Whatever remains isn’t her. I have to think of what’s best for the island, and unleashing a potential trap left by Barron isn’t it, just for the sake of your memories.”
“A trap?” she repeated. Raiden shrugged in return before offering one of the pastries to Kora.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. I don’t trust anything he’s touched. His reach stretches far, and he possesses illusion mentality magic that’s never been seen before.”
Kora took the plate, her mouth already drooling at the scent of honeyed bacon and puffed pastry with a cream sauce. She took a bite, trying to suppress the moan that followed. Sweet Calypso, the food was good here.
“Is that what this is?” She gestured between them, munching on her pastry between speaking. “Do we have mind magic?”
Raiden’s lips quirked, his eyes sparking. “No, you don’t have mind magic.”
“But you do?” Kora gently sat on the edge of Erick’s cot. She didn’t trust Raiden enough to leave Erick’s body exposed.
“Of sorts.” Raiden held out the mug to Kora, the steam wafting off it enticing her as a sweet scent filled the air.
“Can you read my mind?” she asked quietly, staring over the mug at Raiden, her gaze following the trail of his muscled arm wrapped in a tawny shirt that clung to all the right places.
“I cannot read minds.” Raiden pointedly glanced at the mug, and back to Kora. She didn’t move. “We don’t know what this part of my power is, only that I can somehow push my voice directly into people’s minds, using the wind.”
Kora took the mug, her fingers brushing his.
Warm sparks rolled through her, and she jerked as Raiden’s stare snapped to where their fingers barely touched.
A hairsbreadth of skin anchoring her. Warmth spread, trickling its way down to her core, and Raiden’s finger extended up the length of hers in a subtle caress.
“Thank you,” Kora murmured, her body cooling as she retreated from Raiden. She wrapped her fingers around the cream pottery, seeking to replace his warmth. It’d been painted with swirling blue patterns, and the liquid inside was brown.
“Try it,” Raiden encouraged and Kora nearly jumped at his voice in her mind.
“Wind can’t enter people’s minds,” Kora replied, as she took a sip of the mysterious liquid. Sweet, silky chocolate burst on her tongue, and she gasped as the flare of heated spice followed. “What is this!”
Raiden smiled. “Good, right? It’s hot chocolate with a little . . . kick.” He chuckled lightly as she gulped it down, ignoring the burn in her throat. “I don’t know how, but my power can just do it. If you focus, you may be able to hear the faintest of wind currents when it happens.”
Kora pondered his words. She’d heard wind currents her whole ten years. She was intimately familiar with the wind, how it roared . . . how it caressed.
“How much of my life did you see?”
Raiden’s smile faded. “Not as much as you think. I tried to help when I could, but depending on how far away you were from Galen, it made it harder. I couldn’t always see when you were with . . . him.”
Kora’s cheeks burned, and her heart thudded as she pushed down the betrayal. “How did you see, though?”
“I’m not entirely sure on that either.” Raiden stood, flexing his hands as though mentioning Blake had somehow made this dynamic awkward.
“I’d be sucked into the void, and there was your life, playing through your eyes.
And then . . .” Raiden’s stare flashed, reliving a memory, and within a blink, a weighted gaze met Kora’s and her breathing stopped.
“You were so near. I’d somehow managed to break through and guide you to the Mist. I tried so hard in hopes you could make it here by accident .
. . but the pirates intercepted without realising the wider picture.
” Raiden frowned. “I don’t understand why they were out there.
They’ve not ventured to Peril Cove for a long time. ”
Kora swallowed. Almighty Thanos. This was beyond her knowledge of magic, of the factions and Devanian history. And that day. That damned day that was the catalyst of events leading her here . . . it’d been Raiden all this time. His desperation to save her had led her right to Peril Cove.
“That day changed everything,” Kora whispered, and Raiden audibly swallowed. She couldn’t resist watching the bob of this throat, the way his broad shoulders pinched. “And this void . . . I’m guessing that’s not normal either?”
Raiden shook his head. “It manifested a few days after you were taken. Before that, you and I . . . we were connected, but it was the same as everyone else. Me talking to your mind and receiving no response.”
Just how it was now, then. Was that . . . melancholy? Kora studied him for a moment. Was he sad that there was no one else like him? Was it lonely to have these one-sided conversations, despite possessing such a unique gift?
“Maybe Barron’s magic opened some kind of magical mental rift in me? If he can manipulate my mind, he surely can do other . . . mind-related things?”
“Perhaps,” Raiden headed towards the door. “Or it’s something new entirely.”