Chapter 9 #2
“He was,” I said. “He was stri—” My voice cracked.
I felt dizzy. I was trying, but I couldn’t get the words out but I knew I needed to.
Sean was the one person in Rhyan’s family he most trusted after his mother.
He was the only real parent figure he had left, who actually loved him, cared for him.
Sean was the first person who deserved to know.
Rhyan would want him to know. And, I knew he’d want me to be the one to tell him.
But the words were stuck in my throat. I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t. I felt faint, and like the grief was going to swallow me whole again.
Auriel and I had barely discussed what happened.
And I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to talk about it. To say it.
“Sean,” Auriel said, stepping forward. “Do you maybe want to sit down?”
Sean shook his head violently. “I do not.”
“You might wish to,” Auriel said gently.
“Just say it,” Branwyn said. “We need to hear. He needs to hear.” She’d taken Sean’s hand, and he was holding onto her so tightly, his knuckles had whitened.
I met Sean’s eyes, every part of me shaking. “Sean, he— um—he—” My vision blurred. Fuck. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t say it.
Auriel took my hand, and cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Sean, to have to tell you. But, Rhyan was caught using his vorakh in the capital. He was tried and sentenced, then stripped in the arena,” Auriel said.
“NO!” Sean yelled. “No. It can’t be. Can’t be true.”
Branwyn cried out.
The tears started falling down my face again, my vision swimming in and out of focus as my stomach pinched in pain.
“Did he—” Sean started, his eyes full of unshed tears. “Did he—oh, Godsdamned fucking damnit. I know it’s rare but, did he … Did he survive it?”
“The stripping,” I whispered, and nodded my head carefully. “He was so strong, and so brave,” I swallowed. “He survived that.”
The look of relief in Sean’s face was fleeting before his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean—he survived that?”
“I tried to save him. I killed the Blade to get to him.” My voice broke.
“I killed everyone in my path. But there were too many. And I was too slow. He was alive at the end, but just barely. His magic was … they took it. They took it all. I,” I sniffled.
“So I carried him from the stage. I was going to get him to safety, heal him, heal all his injuries. But we were trapped in the arena, and we couldn’t …
we couldn’t get out—” My voice caught, “the attack.”
“The vorakh attack?” Branwyn asked.
“There was no vorakh attack,” I said. “It was …” I pressed my head in my hands. I couldn’t bear to be the one to tell Sean the truth, to break his heart like mine had been.
Auriel placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “The Emperor’s lying about the vorakh. The arena was overrun by akadim.”
“Akadim?” Sean asked. His eyes widened. “He’s killed plenty before. He’s strong.”
Branwyn wrapped an arm around his waist, her bottom lip shaking.
“He was.” Auriel took a deep breath. “So strong. Just not at that moment. I’m sorry. He was turned. He’s one of them now.”
Sean sank to his knees, his mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Branwyn crouched beside her husband, wrapping her arms around him, her face buried in his neck.
The look on his face was too much, too raw.
Too full of horror and grief. Too painful.
I knew the feeling—knew it too fucking well.
Knew my face looked the same when I realized what had happened. When I realized I’d been too late.
I wanted to go to Sean. To comfort him. And at the same time, I wanted to throw myself at his feet and beg for forgiveness because I should have stopped it.
I should have been faster. Taken Dario with me.
Not bothered with the orange fucking shard.
Not dealt with Morgana. I should have gone straight into the arena.
I could have made a thousand different choices.
And surely, surely, one of them was the one that would have saved Rhyan’s life.
But I didn’t know which one. And it was going to haunt me.
For now, all I could do was sob, my body swaying. My arm …
A thunderous pounding on the door pulled me back from my thoughts.
“Turion check. Open up!” The voice boomed all the way down to the basement.
Branwyn’s eyes widened. “It’s Turion Kevel. What do I do?”
Sean’s nostrils flared, as he inhaled a sharp intake of breath, and wiped his eyes. “I’ll answer it, come with me, love—so they’re not suspicious.”
Nodding, Branwyn already started back up the stairs, smoothing back her hair.
“You two,” he ordered, “Closet, now.”
Auriel helped me to my feet, and we rushed into a tiny closet in the back of the basement. I was pressed against the wall when Auriel slammed the door behind him, enclosing us in total darkness.
The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, a bolt locking into place, and then I heard the creak of the front door opening.
“Turion Kevel,” Sean said, his voice carrying through the house.
The air was warm and still inside the small closet. My head started to swim. I tilted my head back, my breathing labored and erratic. It was becoming more difficult. Everything was becoming more difficult.
“Lyriana?” Auriel whispered. There was a rustling sound, and movement near me that I couldn’t see.
“You were called to the city, Soturion Sean. I expected your wife, not you. Didn’t you receive your orders?” the turion spat.
“I was on morning patrol when the orders came through. Lost a sword to the river. Came back for a replacement. I’m on my way to rejoin my unit as we speak.”
Auriel’s arm wrapped around my waist, and I leaned into him, letting him take on most of my body weight. “I feel faint,” I whispered.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Is it your arm?” he asked.
I shook my head.
Footsteps sounded above us.
“We’ve had conflicting reports of Lyriana. She’s apparently capable of appearing on every end of Urtavia, north, south, east, west at once. Ridiculous. Unless she’s vorakh like her dead forsworn lover—”
I stopped breathing. Auriel tightened his hold on me.
“I doubt that,” Sean said, his voice tense. “Last I’d heard, her seraphim was spotted in the woods. Quite a way from here. And she’s … well, not exactly one to move quickly. She’s the powerless one, right?”
“Not anymore it seems. She took out the Blade with her own hand, massacred a dozen of our men last night in Numeria.”
“Did she now?” Sean said, the surprise in his voice real. “Well either way, I would like to return to the field and find her. Before I go, is there something I can help you with?”
“Not unless it involves you returning to your post immediately,” he yelled. “Your beautiful wife can walk me through the house.”
My throat tightened, a nervous gasp escaped my lips. Auriel kept one hand on my waist, but the other he pressed against my mouth, stifling the sound of my breathing.
“If you don’t mind, since I’m here,” Sean said coolly, “I’ll walk you myself. I’d rather my wife not be alone here with you.”
More heavy footsteps pounded on the ceiling, like the turion was walking in circles.
“This is protocol, soturion. I don’t like what you’re insinuating. Or your insubordination. If you’re not out the door in the next ten seconds, you’ll be at the pole tonight.”
“Turion,” Sean said. “We’re not hiding anyone or anything here. If you wish to search the house, you may, but I’m going to insist on being present.”
“That’s three lashes, Soturion Sean,” barked the turion. “We could have completed the search by now if you’d shut up.”
“I’ll accept my punishment,” Sean said. “Gladly.”
The boots continued to stomp, moving across the room, closer and closer to the kitchen.
To the door to the basement. A pair of steps and a door between us.
We were in a closet— but that was it. All the turion would have to do is open the door and we were caught.
And then Branwyn and Sean would be arrested. And …
The basement door shook. “Why the fuck is the door locked?” barked the turion.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Branwyn said quickly. “There were some small rodents coming inside—I locked the door to keep them out. But I can unlock that for you if you like— though, honestly, the door has been getting a bit stuck with this humidity.”
“Unlock it,” he ordered.
My heart thundered, and my stomach turned, my body swaying again. I was so fucking dizzy, I could barely stand straight.
“Auriel?” I hissed, prying his hand from my mouth. “Can you travel?”
“No,” he whispered, forcing his hand back to shush me. “Not this time.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, barely daring to breathe. The front of my hair was plastered to my forehead with sweat. Auriel’s body was too hot next to mine. I was burning up.
The door started to open.
Shit. Shit.
“Turion Kevel.” This was a new voice, more distant. From a vadati? “New sighting inside the Katurium. We’ve got Lyriana. Arresting her now.”
“Turion Abner, bind her and anyone you see with her at once. Lock the whole Katurium down. I’m on my way.” His footsteps moved back over our heads, returning to the front door.
“See you at the pole tonight,” snapped Kevel. “Three lashes. Sundown. You miss it—you won’t be leaving your house for a week, Glemarian shit.”
The front door slammed shut. I pressed my back against the closet wall and sank to my knees, no longer able to hold myself up.
Auriel swung the closet door open, allowing light on me and my crouched position.
“Lyriana?” Auriel yelled in concern, and sank before me. His hand was on my forehead. “You’re not just feverish. You’re burning up. I thought you felt off in there.”
I was clammy, and nauseated. And for a second, I wanted to push his hand away. His skin was too warm.
I needed to cool down. I needed Rhyan’s cool touch. His aura. His cold. Him. Just him. I needed Rhyan. Not Auriel.
Not …
Auriel craned his neck back, shouting at Sean and Branwyn who were rushing down the stairs. “Help me!” Auriel yelled.
“We need to get her into a bed,” Branwyn said, her eyes on Auriel. “Now!”
He lifted me up into his arms, my head cradled against his chest as Branwyn led us to a cot that she pulled out from behind a shelf. Gently Auriel laid me down on it, asking Branwyn to grab fresh water and sunleaves. He pulled back the bandage and I hissed. “No. Not you. I want Rhyan.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I looked at my arm, bile rising in my throat, my vision blurring.
Everything above my elbow was red and swollen.
The bandage was soaked through, mottled brown and yellow.
Dark blood still oozed from it. Alongside the blood, cloudy yellow pus eked out, making a path down my arm and onto the bed.
I swallowed back bile as the smell hit me, like something rotting.
“Shit!” Auriel yelled. “Lyriana, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was this bad. We’re going to have to clean it out. It’s going to hurt. A lot. But I’m going to put you to sleep so you don’t feel it.”
I shook my head. “What? No. No. I can’t sleep. We don’t have time for that.” My eyes burned—I wasn’t sure from the fever or tears.
“Well, we’re going to make some.” He pushed my hair back from my forehead, and I became aware of Sean.
His face had paled, and his aura was exploding with grief.
He’d been keeping it clamped down since he’d found me, since the visit from the turion.
But now, it was rushing against me. A mirror for how I felt inside. And it was agony.
“Auriel,” I whimpered. “Please. Don’t. It hurts.”
He kissed my forehead. “I know. I know it does, Meka. We’re going to fix it. You’ll be okay. You’re going to rest, and we’re going to take care of you.”
“Not my arm,” I said, shaking my head. “My heart.”
A tear rolled down his cheek. “We’re going to try and fix that, too,” he said, his voice hushed. “But first this. Okay? I’m going to put you to sleep now. You won’t feel anything.”
“No!” I shouted. “No! No! I can’t! Please, I need to stay awake. To find Rhyan. To find Meera and Jules! And—”
“Lyriana!” he scolded. “You’re burning up with the infection! You’re in no condition to fight. You can’t even stand up right now. Not until you heal.”
“Auriel! Sean! Please, please don’t—”
But Auriel’s hands were on my face and my eyes were closing. Nothing I did could keep them open.
“No,” I gasped. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I have to.” A door opened and closed at the top of the stairs.
“Branwyn,” I said slowly, my words slurred. And suddenly in my haze, I’d remembered something. Something important. “She needs to know. They’re in Thene. You must … warn Cal and Marisol.”
“My grandparents? Warn them about what?” she asked, her voice frantic.
I could hear her feet scurrying down the stairs.
“Lyriana?” Branwyn called out.
“Warn them,” I said, barely getting the words out. “Warn them that they’re coming.” My eyes closed.