Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
An hour later, I’m scooping up the last of the rice from my bowl as Gem admits to Kalden, “I see why you thought the food they gave us before the Hunt was barely edible.”
After several days of us snacking, Kalden organized an entire feast for us beneath an open pavilion nestled along the village’s western edge.
The late afternoon sunlight beams across the horizon, casting an amber glow across the array of now-empty porcelain dishes and two empty chairs—Aruna and Demi opted to stay behind in the shared bungalow that Kalden escorted us to prior to the meal.
Thanks to the nightstone in our lungs offering us temporary immunity from the sun’s effects, Gem and Twilynn agreed to let Kalden disarm the sensors in their helmets so they wouldn’t have to wait until sunset to eat.
“That’s because the food they feed you down there is grown with an artificial photosynthesis,” Niles comments while leaning back in his chair, “making it deficient in both natural vitamins and flavor.”
I wipe away the tangy sauce from the corners of my lips. “How do you two know so much about Caligo?”
Kalden and Niles share a look.
“Our mothers were born there,” Kalden answers after taking a long swig of wine.
When he doesn’t expand, Niles chuckles. “Damn, Kalden. You can’t just drop that on them without expanding on the details.”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I expect from him,” I say, sipping the deep berry liquid from my own crystal glass and ignoring the heated sensation of Kalden’s eyes on my face.
“You two are that familiar already, huh?” Niles glances between us with a lopsided smirk. “What else have you come to expect from him?”
I sense there’s more to Niles’s question beyond the flirty little game he’s presenting it to be, but I play along anyway.
“He’s calculated, yet selectively considerate.
Quick to make decisions. Led more by his own moral compass than by duty.
Obsessed with control, to the point where he pretends to be unaffected by trivial things like emotions, but he has his tells. ”
“I do?” This time, the question comes directly from Kalden.
I finally lift my gaze to his, struck by the intensity of his molten irises, even without the sun’s luster.
“Your eyes,” I breathe. “They’re the only place you can’t hide what you’re feeling. Like right now, your pupils are dilating. Maybe in surprise, but your hooded lids tell me it’s mostly satisfaction.”
Kalden rewards me with a rare lift of his full lips. “Good to know you’ve been studying me so closely.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so insistent on acting like a personified puzzle.”
“I think you like the challenge.” One corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other, and it’s truly ridiculous how much that simple movement awakens every nerve in my body.
Gem clanks her fork onto her plate, and I shoot her an apologetic glance, but she takes a sudden interest in ridding the tablecloth of invisible dirt.
“So, your mothers were from Caligo?” I ask, attempting to bring us back to Kalden’s blunt confession.
Niles answers first. “They were both selected for the Hunt about forty years ago. Their group left them for dead after a Pyre ambush about seven miles south of here. Kalden’s father was returning from a trip to our southern capital when he found them, pulses faint, but still beating.”
“He healed them?” I ask.
Kalden nods.
“I guess your hero complex is hereditary, then.”
Niles huffs in amusement, but Kalden’s smirk falls. “I’m no hero.”
“Not this again,” Niles groans. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“What happened?”
Niles shakes his head. “It isn’t my story to tell.”
A muscle twitches in Kalden’s jaw as he stares at his empty glass.
“About nine months ago, my older brother, Aurick, came to me in a panic after his partner didn’t come home the night before from his hunting trip with his sister.
Aurick wanted my help in casting out an electromagnetic wave to detect where he went.
You’ve probably already noticed that Sols can sense each other’s energy.
And the more often we’re around someone, the more we pick up on their unique essence.
It’s almost as easy as breathing, especially when we’re in close proximity.
But the farther we are from the person we’re trying to detect, the more it drains our power. ”
Kalden’s eyes gloss over as he continues recalling, “I’d already spent a good amount of energy that day, so I tried to assure Aurick that maybe his partner had extended his trip. I honestly thought he was overreacting. So, Aurick decided to do it alone.”
The wine sloshes uneasily in my stomach, my gut sensing what likely happened from there.
Niles rests a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Kalden exhales slowly.
“It happened so quickly. One minute, I was grabbing produce from the greenhouse. The next, I felt his essence burning away. Smelled the bitter ashes of it. By the time I got to Aurick’s home, it was too late.
He’d burned through it all—his clothes, his skin, and his humanity.
” Kalden blinks, releasing twin beads of tears down his cheeks while making no attempt to wipe them away.
“I kept him restrained for a week while I tried everything to bring him back. Even let him feed from me, hoping my essence would replace what he lost. Probably would’ve died if it weren’t for Niles barging in to get him off me.
I knew then that it was time to put an end to it.
My brother had already died, and I couldn’t keep pretending I’d find him in the mockery of his corpse. ”
An icy pressure weighs on my lungs as I imagine the devastation of losing a sibling in that way, and no one speaks for a long minute. What’s the right way to respond to that level of horror? Perhaps there isn’t a “right” response, no right words beyond a simple acknowledgement of his grief.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Me too,” Gem echoes.
Even Twilynn nods her agreement.
Kalden fidgets with his empty glass before pushing it away. “I didn’t tell you that to gain your sympathy. I just thought you should know that I’m not the hero you think I am. If I weren’t so selfish, Aurick would still be here.”
“Aurick knew the consequences of channeling that amount of power by himself,” Niles says gently. “He could’ve asked someone else for help.”
“Two things can be true,” Kalden admits.
I sense Gem’s eyes on me, and I turn to find her jade irises glittering.
Two things can be true.
Like Kalden, I made a selfish decision that pushed Gem away. But I’m not the only one making choices.
Gem could stay with me. Now that she’s had some time to get to know Kalden and come to her own conclusion about the Sols, I suspect part of her wants to.
But I also know a larger part of Gem could never choose to turn her back on her twin, even if it means going back to the stifling darkness of Caligo.
And as much as I’ll miss her—miss them both—I can’t blame Gem for choosing Taur over me.
I nudge my boot into hers beneath the table. She nudges mine back.
Heavy silence compresses against the glass columns of the domed pavilion.
“Your mothers,” I begin to ask, hopeful my prodding doesn’t build onto the thick quiet. “Are either of them here?”
Niles’s smirk returns. “Eager to meet the parents already, little nova?”
I share a soft smile. “I’d like to meet the two women who survived the Hunt and made a new life for themselves.”
Eyes filling with pride, Niles shares, “I could take you to meet my mother in a couple days, if you’d like. Once you’ve had time to settle in. And Irene is away on travels, though she should be coming back soon, right Kalden?”
Kalden nods, but I barely notice as Niles’s words scratch at something I heard earlier.
“Irene’s birds,” I say, repeating what the stranger had said after we left the menders.
Both men share a look before turning their full attention towards me.
Brows arching, Kalden asks, “Who told you about that?”
I fiddle with the cloth napkin, folding it into squares. “There was a woman on one of the bridges earlier—the one with the people and their wired poles.”
Niles cuts in. “You mean the fishing deck?”
My forehead pinches, recalling how she’d reeled in a speckled fish. “Maybe? Anyway, she told me she’d been in a past Hunt and that she survived because of Irene’s birds.”
Twilynn perks up, quietly chiming in to ask, “Like the ones Jacqueline saw?”
“Demi’s aunt had a similar experience,” Gem explains to the Sols. “Saw some glowing birds that guided her back to Caligo.”
Kalden leans back in his chair. “On the first anniversary after my mother’s near death, after she had time to acquaint herself with her abilities, she wanted to help the new recruits somehow without having to explain that she wasn’t the same as the monsters they were meant to hunt.
So, she sent out winged solar constructs to act as her second set of eyes. ”
“The birds weren’t real?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around how that’s even possible.
“No, they’re real,” Kalden corrects. “As real as the blast of power you cast to level the Pyres earlier. But instead of a warm-blooded animal, her constructs are an amalgamation of energy manipulated into the shape of her choosing.”
Gem lets out a breath. “Shadows’ mercy, that sounds . . .”
“Difficult,” Kalden supplies.
Niles snatches the last bunch of grapes from the center of the table while clarifying, “Especially when the constructs are as detailed as Irene’s. And the distance she’s able to push them is no easy feat. Would push a lesser Sol to burnout. It’s a marvel she keeps it up year after year.”
Kalden shrugs. “It’s worth it for her. She’s not always able to locate the Huntresses in time, but when she does, that’s one less life stolen by Caligo’s lies.”
“Did she send any this year?”
Kalden’s gaze turns downcast, and Niles clears his throat, answering on his friend’s behalf, “No. Ever since Aurick, she’s been . . . more cautious with her channeling.”
“Right,” I say, kicking myself mentally for steering us back into sensitive territory. “Well, thank you for putting this meal together—though I’m not convinced you didn’t ‘construct’ all this food into existence.”
Niles shakes his head. “Eating a construct would be highly inadvisable, unless you enjoy the flavor profile of acrid radiation and having your taste buds melted.”
Tongue souring, I scrunch my nose.
Kalden graces us with an almost-smile. “I can assure you that no solar constructs were used in the preparation of this meal, but I’ll pass along the compliments to the culinary staff.”
Niles lifts his glass in a toast before downing the rest of its deep berry liquid.
“They outdid themselves. Pulled out all the stops for the return of the High—you.” He winces. “Sorry.”
Kalden waves off the apology. “It’s time I tell them the rest.”
My eyes skate over the lavish dishware and intricate floral arrangements. Even the food itself tasted like luxury. The whole private dining setup is brimming with an extravagance that I should’ve questioned sooner.
“You’re the High Sol, aren’t you?” I say, remembering the term I’d heard floating around during our arrival.
Both Kalden and Niles turn their widened eyes to me.
“Where did you hear that?” Kalden asks, his gaze flicking to his friend with suspicion.
Niles holds up his palms. “Wasn’t me.”
“It really wasn’t,” I confirm, then explain, “When you were leading us through the village earlier, I heard people gossiping about the High Sol and what he planned to do about the black cloud.”
“And you presumed that was me?”
“Not initially. But between you having this grand feast organized for us on very short notice, and Niles almost slipping up, it’s not a far reach.”
Gem nods. “It makes sense. You’re a natural leader, albeit a reluctant one.”
Kalden arches a brow, and I point out, “You swooped in with our training sessions when that guard made it clear he wasn’t concerned about preparing us for the Hunt.”
Gem chimes back in to add, “And once we were released, you took charge and kept calm, even when those Pyre things attacked us.”
Kalden lifts his chin, irises gleaming as he glances between us. “I guess I haven’t been as covert as I thought.”
“So, what does it mean to be the High Sol?” Gem asks. “Are you the elected leader of this village, or were you born into it?”
“The High Sol isn’t a genetically inherited or formally elected position. It’s something you are or aren’t.”
Niles gives Kalden a teasing look before clarifying on his behalf, “Every Sol has their own bandwidth for how much of the sun’s power they can channel before reaching burnout.
Some can only use a few short bursts of raw energy each day.
Others can draw from it long enough to achieve a highly specialized task, like Joss.
A few of us can sustain more prolonged periods of channeling, but even we have to cap it after a few hours.
Sometimes shorter, depending on how much focus and power the task requires.
Then there are the High Sols, blessed by the sun with an unfathomable bandwidth. ”
Kalden groans. “‘Unfathomable’ is a stretch.”
Niles slaps a hand on his shoulder. “I once saw you sustain a magnetic field barrier for ten hours.”
Brows lifting, I ask, “I take it that’s impressive?”
Niles nods. “I’d reach burnout after maybe two hours. Three, tops.”
“Damn.” Gem tips her cup at Kalden. “Do you even have a limit?”
Shadows flicker in those golden irises. “I do.”
Just when I think he’s about to return to his intentionally vague ways, Kalden surprises me by sharing, “I nearly reached it once. After Aurick . . .” He clears his throat.
“Channeling often has a pleasurable heat. A consuming warmth that magnifies each of our senses. But when a Sol is nearing burnout, it becomes scorching. It overtakes all feelings. All emotions.”
A shudder claws down my spine. “How close did you get?”
Kalden’s haunted gaze flicks to mine. “As close as a Sol can get before becoming a Pyre.”