Chapter 22
Isink to my knees, my hands clawing at my throat. I try to stand, but I can’t. My vision is blurring from the lack of air, the outer edges of my vision dwindling into little more than a pinhole as my head spins.
‘Thorn?’ Kyor’s hands are on my shoulders as fear utterly grips me.
Then, just as quickly as it left, the air returns.
I heave in a huge gulp of air, filling my lungs as my head clears, and find the strength to sit up.
What the fuck was that? Frantically glancing around, I search for the source, but I come up empty.
Only Toren and Astrid are on the other side of the grounds, and they are lost in deep conversation and not even paying attention to us. The rest of the yard is empty.
The attack was timed perfectly with Kyor’s winding knee, but there was no way that was natural. None. I would know. I’ve pulled the air from Jonas’s lungs, watched him claw at nothing too.
Stefan said removing air from lungs was a rare gift, but not unheard of. He gave Ranveeg as an example, but as I look around again, there’s still no one else here.
Still, I’m certain. A couple of ‘slips’ on the ice and now this.
Someone is trying to kill me.
‘Thorn?’ Kyor’s hands tighten on me. ‘What happened?’
‘I’m fine,’ I manage, my voice little more than a rasp. ‘Just winded.’
He frowns. ‘Gods, I’m sorry, Rose. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.’
He didn’t, and under normal circumstances I could have bounced back from that effortlessly…
(Okay, maybe a little effort would’ve been required – Kyor is strong!) But for now, I can’t tell him what I suspect.
He’ll go into full protective mode, and we can’t have that.
Not now, not when he’s just found out about his father, the war, everything.
Dammit, this moment was supposed to be about him. If he learns someone is trying to hurt me, maybe even kill me, he’ll push his own feelings down and we’ll never talk about him and what he needs.
‘Let’s call it a night,’ he says, offering his hand to help me up.
The dizziness has gone and my vision has cleared, but I don’t reject his help. I even hold him close as he sheathes his weapons.
‘Hey,’ I casually ask my guards. ‘Do you know where Ranveeg is?’
Astrid nods. ‘She’s on patrol near the pyrrhic. Do you wish me to summon her for you?’
‘I… No. That’s fine.’
It couldn’t possibly be her then. Stefan said they need to be close to pull air from you.
Astrid and Toren walk us back to the palace together, all four of us in silence as Kyor’s hand remains in mine.
Later that night, as we lie side by side underneath the covers, we watch the pinpricks of starlight cascade across the inky blue sky.
When Kyor begins to speak, his voice cracks.
‘He’s still my father,’ he says.
‘I know,’ I reply softly.
‘I … I know what he is. I’ve seen it in a hundred orders, a thousand deaths, but I …
I dreamed that one day he would redeem himself.
That he would make the right call. For himself.
For the kingdom. For me. I dreamed that he would love me properly, as a father should, with no reservations or conditions. ’
My own throat is thick as I nod, and I lace my fingers through his, offering silent comfort.
‘A fool’s hope,’ Kyor says harshly, dashing tears from his eyes.
‘No, my love, a human one.’
Kyor finally opens up to me then, the words spilling like blood pouring from an open wound. And as he speaks, the tears of a young boy mix with those of the strong man he is now. And in that moment, I see everything I need to know.
Kyor is ready to step out of his father’s clutches. All he needs is for someone to believe in him, just like he believed in me.
I can understand more than anyone what he is feeling.
After all, the evidence of my mother’s lies is here in every step I take around the city.
A city she never mentioned to me. Every time I stare at the paintings on the palace walls, I can’t help but wonder if she looked at them when she was a child.
Did she admire the same chandelier? Did she play with the Issen children in the street, making ice flurries dance and swirl on currents she made?
She knew she was hiding something from herself with every sip of gladden root she took. Did she never think that we, her children, might have benefited from knowing the truth? She could have told us and given us the choice to erase our family history, the way she chose to.
For now, I push aside my own conflicted feelings about family and simply hold his hand and stare into his eyes. And then, when he’s done, spent and exhausted, I cradle him close to my chest and watch him fall into a dreamless sleep.
Hopefully I’ll be ready to tell him my story too – William’s story – before the poison takes over my body.
‘I’m going to skip breakfast today,’ Kyor says as he stretches out in bed the next morning, evidence of his emotional outpouring still there in his red-rimmed eyes.
‘I’ll see you downstairs in a bit and walk you to the temple before your training.
Assuming you plan on training before you try the Veil again? ’
It’s a tough call. I want to get to the Veil and learn what the third stage involves as soon as I can, but at the same time, yesterday showed me – repeatedly – that I have to master my power.
And as I can only visit the Veil once a day, I might as well train first and work at harnessing those powers before they destroy me or someone else I care about.
‘Yeah, I’m going to train, but are you sure you don’t need to eat? You didn’t have much last night.’ Having already showered and dressed, I pick up my dagger from the bedside table and sheathe it on my thigh.
‘I’m fine. I feel like having a long shower this morning. I figure the cold water will clear my head a bit. See you downstairs in twenty?’
‘Sure,’ I reply before kissing him softly on the lips.
Before he lets go, he pulls me back and whispers into my hair, ‘Thank you for listening, Thorn.’
He might have a desire to skip breakfast to avoid seeing Caz and the others after storming out of dinner, but what Kyor did last night – the things he finally admitted to himself and accepted – shows he is so much stronger than he can imagine.
And as far as I’m concerned, he has no reason to be embarrassed that he trusted his father.
That’s what we do as children, as I well know.
Downstairs, Thessa is using the brush Magnus gave her to work on her fox stole and looks quite content, while Caz has her nose in a book.
Thessa doesn’t do well with sitting for great lengths of time, and though I’ve heard she will often leave the others in the library to go off on her own, I’ve no idea how she’s been filling her days.
I haven’t heard so much as a whisper of animosity towards the Sanning the way I have towards us Morathkians, but I assume she’s still chaperoned.
Rather than disturb either of the two women, I quietly help myself to a moderate bowl of yet more riverweed, and I’ve just taken a seat when Benny and Ruben walk in, both yawning.
‘You two look tired. Did you stay up all night having fun?’ I ask hopefully.
‘We were talking,’ Benny replies. ‘Ruben was telling me some very interesting stories, actually. About a tannery, as it happens.’
‘What!’ I almost spit out my riverweed. ‘You’re joking, right? Ruben!’
Ruben grins and gives an unapologetic shrug. ‘Sorry, it just sort of slipped out.’
I shoot him my most dagger-filled glare.
There’s a reason he and I promised to keep that story to ourselves.
I’ve never told a soul, but I guess it’s a good sign of how close Ruben and Benny are becoming.
I’ll happily sacrifice my dignity if that means they’re one step closer to forming something real.
‘Anyone seen Fen today?’ I ask. He wasn’t sleeping in the corridor outside my room.
‘I have seen your wolf outside, The Rose,’ Thessa says, placing her brush down and looking at me. ‘Asleep. Well-fed, I think.’
Relief flushes through me. ‘That’s good,’ I reply. ‘Thanks.’
It also explains why I haven’t heard Fen at all this morning. Clearly, a decent meal has knocked him out. And the fact that he went out of the city and beyond the pyrrhic and returned with no issues is more than a little relieving.
‘So any plans for today?’ I ask, looking at Thessa as I speak, hoping to get a few more details about how she spends her time, but she simply shrugs.
‘Maybe. I am not sure, though.’
‘Well, we’re going to be heading down to see Loch, then straight to the library, right?’ Ruben looks at Benny.
The way he speaks for the pair of them makes me think there was definitely more than just talking about the tannery last night, yet Benny shifts in his seat.
‘Actually, you might have to go see Loch on your own this morning. Tell him I’ll pop in later.’
Ruben frowns. ‘Why? What are you doing?’
‘Nothing really. Just got chatting to one of the Issen. Wanted to ask them a few things.’
‘Which one?’
‘Which one what?’
‘Which Issen. What’s their name?’
‘Oh … um, Leif, I think. Yes, Leif.’
There’s something about the way Benny is avoiding looking at Ruben that causes a knot in my stomach. I can’t believe Benny would be playing with Ruben and meeting up with some random Issen for a bit of casual fun, but why else would he be acting so strangely?
‘What are you going to talk to them about?’ I ask, taking over the questioning role from Ruben.
‘This and that,’ Benny replies vaguely. ‘Actually, I was going to ask if there were any defectors they know of who came from the Eastern Isles. People whose families might think they’d passed on.
You know, so I could give them the happy news that they’re still alive when I get back …
without letting everyone know about Isthyr, obviously. ’
‘That’s sweet,’ Ruben says, a soft smile back on his lips. ‘Trying to bring those people a bit of comfort. That’s good of you. We’ll meet you at the library when you’re done.’
‘Of course.’