Chapter 37
‘This isn’t the first attack on Rose,’ Kyor begins as soon as we’re in Magnus’s presence.
I wince. ‘Actually, that’s been resolved.’
He stares at me. ‘Resolved?’
‘I spoke to the person in question, and it was a misunderstanding. And this is different. The focus was definitely on the dagger here, not me.’
‘Who was it?’ Kyor demands.
I slide a glance at Magnus. ‘We’ll discuss it later,’ I say vaguely, ‘but I can say with confidence that person wasn’t involved in this.’
Brida didn’t give two shits about my dagger, and even if her mother had demanded she fetch it, shading definitely isn’t her power. No, I’ve felt that firsthand.
Silence settles on the group, uncomfortable and heavy, pressing down upon us as we all wrack our brains for answers.
In the end, it’s Benny who asks the question I can’t bring myself to. ‘What about you, Kyor? Do you know of any shades that are powerful enough that they can hide their scent and even their sound?’
The slowness of Kyor’s inhale is all the answer we need.
‘Why though?’ he replies, yet his avoidance only serves to confirm that he knows at least one person with such magic.
‘The shades I know with that kind of strength also have the power to conceal multiple weapons on their persons. If they had wanted us dead, they could have killed us while we slept.’
‘So it was never about either of us,’ I say slowly. ‘It was only about the dagger.’ I pat the dagger to reassure myself it’s still there. As I do so, I look at the inky black marks upon my hands, reminded once again that I have very little time left.
If I die due to Veil poisoning, someone else will need to bond with the dagger to protect it.
Something to raise with Kyor when we’re alone later.
He won’t want to hear it, to consider my impending death, but we must. We must begin to face the reality that time is no longer on my side.
More than half a moon has already vanished like sand through my fingers.
Further silence follows my words, and I let out a long breath, trying to steady my thoughts and fit them together. The blades. The three blades. They’re so important that a shade was hired to come and steal mine from me, but why?
‘What do they do?’ I don’t expect a response and continue straight on. ‘We know there are three blades of Vindrun and that they’re powerful, but what makes them so important that a Morathkian would steal into my room to try to get it?’
I shift my attention to Kyor.
‘The dagger worked against the Myrkr and the Rottings. Could one of your men have known it’s capable of doing that and tried to steal it for that reason?’
He hums slightly, as if he’s contemplating the question, but I can tell he’s not convinced.
‘No, none of them knew of a blade that could kill a Myrkr or anything about the pyrrhic. If we had, we would have stormed it decades ago.’ He turns to Magnus. ‘Respectfully.’
Exasperation makes me snap as I hit my fist on the table. ‘Well, somebody knows more than we do!’
‘The Myrkr I have heard of in books of myths,’ Magnus says, ‘but we have only spoken briefly of these Rottings. Tell me more about them. You said they are no longer living. They’re not a people?’
‘No, they’re not a people, not a race like the Sannings or the Issen or the Torailians. We truly don’t know what they are,’ I tell him. ‘But they attacked us, more than once, in the forest. They appeared to be led by a Myrkr but also travelled on their own.’
I pause again, still trying to work out the best way to tell him everything we went through without appearing insane.
Though maybe it’s a little late for that.
‘I think they’re connected to Sanrott. There was this Sannthrall – a creature, a spirit in the trees – who tried to take Caz one night and turn her into one of them. ’
‘So the Rottings are creatures the forest has claimed?’ Magnus asks.
‘Perhaps,’ I say. ‘But people can be turned by scratches and bites too.’ An image of the mottled green spreading across Stide’s body forms in my mind, but I push it down.
‘We think – I think – there’s another way as well.
Some other way of turning men and women who aren’t scratched or taken by a Sannthrall. ’
Now that I’ve started this, it only seems right that I disclose as much as we know to Magnus. But there are still details I don’t feel are mine to share.
My gaze meets Ruben’s, but it’s Benny who speaks.
‘Only if you want to,’ he says softly as he squeezes Ruben’s hand, making clear which of us he’s talking to.
‘It’s fine,’ Ruben replies, glancing at Benny in a manner that makes me wonder how there could ever be any doubt between these two. I can see it, even if they can’t yet. ‘Magnus should know everything we do.’
I try to offer Ruben a reassuring smile, but it fades before it even forms. Merely looking at him causes a pain that resonates through my chest. Quashing it the best I can, I continue my explanation to the king.
‘There are Rottings in the forest, yes,’ I tell Magnus, ‘in great numbers. But I’ve seen others … with my Raven Sight.
‘I was in a cave the first time it happened – a cave full of Rottings – and I saw people I knew from the slums. Ruben’s mother, Noleen, was among them.’
Shock and sympathy line every crease in Magnus’s face, the pain there so raw and visceral I could easily believe it was his own.
‘I’m sorry, Ruben,’ he says instantly. ‘For your loss and this additional heartache on top. If I may pry further, she had not come into contact with these … Rottings? Not been scratched?’
Ruben immediately shakes his head. ‘Not that I know of,’ Ruben replies.
‘No, she couldn’t have. My mother was sick for many, many years.
We didn’t leave Wrohelm, and the last time I saw her was when the priestesses told me it was time for her to return her powers to Mortidem. They took her to the temple to do so.’
I frown as a thought occurs to me. ‘The priestesses also took my neighbour, Evelina,’ I say, almost to myself. ‘She was one of the Rottings too.’
It can’t be a coincidence.
‘These are priestesses of which God?’ Magnus asks.
‘Etta,’ I respond, ‘but I can’t believe they know what’s happening.
Not all of them, anyway. It was Etta’s priestesses who raised my mother.
They’re good people.’ Except, I think slowly …
are they? Has my perception been blinded by my love of Dinah?
Because what do I really know of the priestesses?
I know High Priestess Mila stabbed every single Rettling with a magical blade, not caring who lived or died.
I know from the Veil’s visions that Dinah has been manipulating events my whole life.
And I know we trusted Noleen and Evelina with the priestesses, and yet they became Rottings.
‘Not— Gah!’ Kyor interrupts. ‘There are some priestesses who … who… Fuck!’ His throat jerks, his chest constricting as if he’s trying to force the words out, but he can’t. And every single one of us knows why.
‘A vow?’ Magnus watches him carefully. ‘You are silenced by a vow?’
‘Yes,’ Kyor forces out, frustration thick in his voice. ‘I’m sorry. I just…’ He shakes his head. ‘I need to break it.’
‘It’s not possible,’ I remind him quietly. ‘We just have to find a way through this without the information you hold.’
A vein pulses across his forehead. ‘I didn’t choose—!’ He clenches his jaw as he balls his fists at his sides. ‘I didn’t— I didn’t—’ The snarl that rattles in his throat sounds more like Elska than I would have thought possible.
‘Take it easy, Ky,’ Ruben murmurs. ‘None of us blame you for what you can’t say.’
Kyor’s fists open and close. ‘I blame me,’ he says through gritted teeth.
‘Well you’re the only one,’ Benny says firmly. ‘So like Ru said, take it easy.’
‘We’re not going to get any answers here, now. We may as well head back to bed,’ Caz interjects, breaking the thrumming unease that’s taken hold of the room. ‘Tomorrow I’ll double down my focus and seek the help of Tove and the other librarians. We will find information on these blades.’
‘Thank you,’ I tell her gratefully.
‘I’ll help too. Do everything I can,’ Ruben adds.
It’s still dark outside, no sign of morning’s light, yet I can’t imagine going back to sleep. But Caz is right. Standing here, like this, isn’t helping any of us.
‘Go. Sleep,’ Magnus echoes Caz’s suggestion. ‘And you do not need to worry. I will see that you are safe here, even though it means I must do something I have not done for a very long time.’
‘What?’ I ask him. ‘What do you have to do?’
He meets my gaze, a sadness dulling his eyes. ‘I must put guards inside the city. Inside the palace.’
At breakfast later that morning, a heavy silence accompanies our slurping of the riverweed.
As we walked down the stairs, Toren and Astrid were waiting. But unlike Ylva, who had been sitting, reading her book, they were both visibly armed and alert, fully present as their eyes scanned up and down the corridor, creating a feeling of unease that has followed us down here.
‘Are you coming to train with me today?’ I ask Kyor, feeling the need to say something.
‘What, instead of leaving sleazy Stefan to get his hands all over you? Yeah, I think I’ll come.’
‘Sleazy Stefan.’ Caz smirks. ‘He can’t be that bad? Not if he was going to take over ruling from Magnus.’
‘Yeah, I don’t know how the fuck that was going to happen. The guy is an arsehole, and the way he looks at Rose…’ Kyor finishes his sentence with a growl, making his feelings on the matter perfectly clear.
‘Seriously?’ Ruben asks, a clear look of disgust on his face. ‘If you need me and Ben to step in here, we’re game.’
‘We can do some death glaring,’ Benny chimes in.
I groan. ‘Don’t. It reminds me of the Rowell crew.’ They used to gather to glare at me, so much so that I wondered if they had a rota.
Ruben and Benny’s hands are clasped on top of the table. Whether they’ve completely straightened out matters from the day before, it’s impossible to know, but it’s still very sweet to see.