Chapter 31 #3
Kailia followed, making the conscious choice to sit closer rather than at the other end.
Start small.
“I asked Razik about the animosity between the two of you. He said to ask you,” she ventured.
She knew what it took to get two people to this place.
For two people to hate each other so greatly, something unforgivable and traumatic had to have happened.
She’d tracked down the people who’d done unforgivable things to her, vowing to rip vengeance from their blood.
Someday, she’d have extracted her vengeance from every single one of them.
But Razik and Cethin had to live with each other every day, and that was something she couldn’t understand.
Unless it wasn’t by choice?
In which case, she understood not having a choice very well.
“Razik believes I am the reason he was abandoned to this realm,” Cethin said, the wariness returning to his tone.
“Are you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then…?”
“There are things at play. Ancient traditions,” Cethin said. “Many have tried to coerce him into compliance over the centuries, and each time he resisted— Well, it’s not hard to see how we became what we are.”
“And this tradition involves what? What could be so terrible that it would cause such a rivalry?”
Cethin eyed her as he said, “It involves a bond that would force him to protect me and give his life for me if required.”
“Oh,” Kailia whispered. Her feet were tucked under her, and she ran a palm over her thigh. “Then I suppose I understand the animosity on his end, but are you simply upset he will not agree to this?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” he answered. “At this point, I don’t want it either, but he still blames me. For all of it. My mother was very insistent. She went to some extremes in attempts to get him to agree to the bond.”
She was quiet for a long moment. Cethin had never voluntarily discussed his mother. Or his father, for that matter.
King Tethys had been dead for over a year before she’d found her way to these lands, and Queen Selinya was rarely spoken of. When she was mentioned though, it was usually in reverence.
But beyond all of that, none of Cethin’s explanations gave her any insight as to why the Oracle would have appeared as Razik when she visited all those years ago. She’d been hoping there was a common thread buried in the reason for his hatred.
But perhaps there was.
She had been forced into a marriage, while Razik had possessed the strength to resist a bond being forced on him.
Now she needed to get him to talk about it with her.
But then another thought struck her.
“Why would that responsibility be placed on Razik and not Tybalt? Wouldn’t his father be better suited?”
Cethin shook his head. “Tybalt is his uncle, and that is a story for him to tell. As for why Tybalt didn’t take on the role, it is because one can only be bonded to one person in such a way.”
“And he already is?”
Cethin nodded. “To my mother.”
“That is why you know so much about the bond. Because Tybalt was bonded to your mother,” she said, sorting through all the information. “Do you blame Razik for not wanting the same?”
He sighed, pulling the band from his hair, the strands falling around his face, and there was something intimate in it. Not like the kissing, but intimate in a different way. He looked disheveled and casual, and he had never once allowed himself to appear this way outside these rooms.
“In a way, yes, but not in the way he thinks,” Cethin answered. “I think we—”
A knock on the door interrupted them, followed by a gruff, “Cethin?”
“Speaking of Tybalt,” Cethin muttered, getting to his feet and going to answer the door.
The Commander slipped inside, immediately scanning the room and his features tightening when they skimmed over her. “There has been activity in the area we’ve been monitoring. We can’t wait any longer to make a statement.”
“You’re sure?” Cethin asked, his entire demeanor changing.
Gone was the tired and contemplative male from a minute ago, replaced by a king who looked ready to go to war.
“I wouldn’t have come here if I weren’t,” Tybalt replied.
“Yeah. All right,” Cethin said, his magic converging around him as he spoke. It thickened, becoming so dense it obscured him, until it didn’t. Until it receded, leaving Cethin in thick leathers while his dark power clung to him like a second skin. He looked…
Well, he looked like the king that was only whispered about across the sea in the same way the death god, his wife, and their children were only whispered of in most of the realm.
“Razik is on his way to stay with the queen,” Tybalt was saying.
But she was on her feet at that. “I want to go. I can help.”
“I think that would be unwise,” Tybalt replied, scarcely glancing at her before giving Cethin a pointed look.
“If she wants to go, then she comes with us,” Cethin said simply.
She was unprepared for what those words did to her. No hesitation. No debating or arguing or second-guessing. A simple acceptance of her and her capabilities.
“Cethin—” Tybalt started.
“Are you ready, Kailia?” Cethin asked, turning to her and ignoring the Commander’s protest.
“Yes,” she answered, summoning her bow as she approached the king.
He glanced down, noting her bare feet, but he said nothing. He only extended his hand, and when she placed her fingers in his waiting palm, he tugged her a little closer. Smirking at her gasp.
But that second of playfulness was gone a moment later when they stepped onto too-soft grass.
She immediately recognized the Shira Forest behind her.
If she was correct, they were on the opposite side of the forest from where the hunt had taken place.
South, based on the warmer temperatures for the middle of the night and the stretch of river running off to the right.
Razik appeared, stepping from the air seconds behind them, and Wren was with him.
She looked nervous, but relief flashed in her eyes when she saw the river.
It made sense considering her affinity for water.
Kailia could only assume she was here because Razik anticipated needing to draw power from her.
“Where is the threat?” she asked Cethin.
“They’re watching. Give them a minute,” he answered, squeezing her fingers.
It was then she realized they were still holding hands.
She hadn’t pulled away from his touch the moment they got here.
That was when the earth beneath their feet shook, sending a violent tremor through the ground. She stumbled right into Cethin, his arm looping around her and keeping her on her feet. Razik had done the same for Wren, the female nestled into his side like they’d done this before.
“Where do you think it’ll surface?” Razik growled, his eyes glowing and scanning the night.
“No idea,” Tybalt answered, his eyes glowing too. “Ariadne and Bram are monitoring farther north. This was the area with the most activity.”
“Cethin, I need direction here,” she muttered, for the first time in a long time feeling out of her element in a fight.
“Just stay close, wife,” he said, his fingers flexing where they still held her to him.
She was about to protest, to shove him off, but the ground shook again, jostling all of them, before things went silent and still, as if even the winds were holding their breath.
Then, a streak of bright light burst from the ground, shooting into the sky.
No. Not light.
A giant winged serpent.
It twisted in the air above them, bright multicolored wings flapping and keeping its glowing body airborne while it elicited a bone-rattling hiss, fangs bared. Its massive body coiled more, preparing to strike, and she had three arrows nocked and aimed.
But she didn’t need to.
Cethin’s magic was growing, twisting and swirling like a cyclone of darkness.
He’d released her when she’d pulled her arrows, but now he was solely focused on his magic.
More than his eyes were glowing. In the trickling moonlight and the light of the sky serpent, she could see the faint outline of his veins.
The serpent hissed again before it struck, diving straight for them, but Cethin met it with his power. Dark and light collided, exploding outward.
Kailia was yanked to the ground, Razik covering her and Wren with a shield of black flames, but she wanted to see.
“Lia!” Razik growled as she pulled free of him.
If she could just get past the flames…
Without thinking, she tried to step into her ashes. Felt her body go weightless, floating among the smoke of Razik’s flames.
Then she was being tossed around once more, her body flickering in and out of existence, before she was dumped back on the ground. Having gone nowhere once again, Cethin was a few feet away.
Scrambling to find her bow, she looked up as another bone-shaking hiss rent through the night.
But Cethin was…
She could do nothing but watch, her mouth hanging open. Cethin’s magic was coiling around the sky serpent like inky vines. Cethin himself was off the ground, his power beneath him like a moving platform of sand dunes. It rose and fell, lifting into the sky and avoiding the strikes of the serpent.
Then all those cords of black yanked simultaneously, dragging the serpent back to the ground.
The shudder when it hit the earth had her losing her balance again, even on her knees, and her chin hit the ground, teeth sinking into her lip.
She tasted blood, but hardly noticed as she managed to get her feet under her.
Only for an arm to loop around her waist.
She shrieked, her bow still on the ground a few feet away, and she couldn’t grab her daggers because her arms were pinned to her sides.
“The creatures of old wake. It is a sign from the Fates,” a female voice crooned into her ear. “We cannot let this be.”
Kailia kicked and thrashed, hearing the female grunt when her bare foot connected with her knee, but she didn’t release Kailia.
Instead, she dragged her backwards a few more feet before shoving her at another.
Someone bigger. Someone stronger. Someone with fire gifts because his touch burned and the smell of charred flesh reached her nostrils.
Pain flared along her middle. Bile filled her throat, but there was a hand clamped over her mouth, so there was nowhere for it to go as she gagged on her own vomit.
The palm keeping her quiet was burning as torturously as the one keeping her still.
Desperately, she slipped into her smoke and ashes, hoping to at least be released from their hold. She was pulled this way and that, her body twisting and tumbling, and then she was being dumped on the ground again, her stomach convulsing as she pushed onto her knees and retched.
Someone touched her hair, and Kailia jerked to the side, crawling away. Eyes wide, they fell on Wren, who was staring at her, palms up placatingly.
“Don’t touch her,” Razik said, crouching beside the female. “Cethin will handle it once he’s done.”
Once he’s done.
She twisted around, finding the king with a hand raised and fist clenched, the two figures on the ground several feet away. They were clutching at their chests, muffled, agonized moans sounding.
“Leave one alive for questioning, Cethin!” Tybalt barked from where he stood at his side.
“We’ll find another,” Cethin responded, his tone nothing but icy death as the two figures continued to writhe in torment.
Razik had pulled Wren into his chest, her face buried there, but Kailia watched. Watched as the king tortured and took and drug out their deaths that she was certain could have been over in seconds.
Finally, the moans fell silent. Kailia had wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the tender flesh at her middle.
The charred skin on her face where a hand had covered her mouth.
There was a dagger in her hand, and she had no idea when she’d grabbed that from the sheath at her side. Thank the gods she hadn’t stabbed Wren.
Cethin lowered to a crouch before her, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he noted the puddle of vomit before his still glowing eyes slid over her.
“Razik will bring your bow. We’re going home,” he said, a hard edge to his tone. “I have to touch you, but you can keep that dagger in your hand while I do. Okay?”
She only nodded, and seconds later, they were in the same positions on the floor of their bedchambers.
“What happened to the serpent?” she asked.
Cethin’s eyes were raking over her again as he answered, “It slumbers once more.”
“What’s all over you?”
And how had she missed the splatters of gold all over his clothes, his hands, his face?
“The serpent’s blood,” he answered, reaching for her.
Instinctively, she raised the dagger, keeping it between them. He paused for only a moment, giving her a small, tight smile before he continued his movement, fingers brushing across her brow and pushing back stray hair.
“You have burns,” he ground out.
Her eyes dropped to her lap, spying small splatters of bile on her dress. That was…just great.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can move through smoke and ashes, but fire still…”
He nodded. “I’ll have Niara send up a salve.”
“That’s not necessary. They’ll heal quickly enough,” she answered, struggling to her feet.
Cethin followed, staying close. “I’ll still send for it.”
“Great,” she muttered. “I’m going to clean up.”
Avoiding a bath because of the burns, she used a cloth to wash herself as best she could. She rinsed her mouth and cleaned her teeth, feeling the phantom touches the entire time.
When she emerged, Cethin did the same, leaving her in the bedchamber. She found a glass jar of balm, along with a note from Niara with instructions, and she sighed, applying it to her stomach and her cheeks where the male’s fingers had dug in.
She was nestled under the covers when Cethin returned in those loose linen pants and sans shirt, his moon Mark visible on his chest atop the other Mark.
Rounding the bed, he pulled back the blankets.
She didn’t have it in her to lift her head as she murmured, “What are you doing?”
“Monitoring my wife,” he answered.
“I have questions.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with another grim smile. “But we’ll save them for tomorrow.”
That was fine with her. She was more than ready to escape to the safety of her dreams.
As sleep came for her, she could swear she felt the barest brush of fingers along her brow and down her hair.
And it didn’t burn.