Deadliest of Bonds: (The Blight 2), page 33
He looked at her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Thea swallowed hard and took a step closer, forcing herself to look at him. “I don’t know,” she replied, her voice hollow. “I—I felt—” She pressed her hand over her chest that seemed to hum. A shiver danced along her spine, and she closed her eyes for a second.
“Is the Inferling calling you again?” Ash’s voice had gone hard.
“No, no, it’s not that,” Thea quickly replied. “I just—I felt something when you opened the veil.” She shook her head. “It’s stupid, I must have imagined it. Or maybe it’s just being close to that much magic, I’m not used to it.”
Ash reached for her hand and paused, waiting for her consent. She lifted her eyes to his and sighed. His eyebrows were drawn together, as if he was worried about her. Thea didn’t like when people worried about her. Especially when there was nothing to worry about.
You have no right to tell me how I should feel about you. The echo of Ash’s words made her shiver.
“Come on,” he said finally, his hand still outstretched. “The door won’t hold forever, and I’d rather not cut my hand open a second time.”
Thea then did something she never would have done mere weeks ago. She accepted his hand, careless of the blood coating his healed skin, and followed him through the opening.
Everything changed.
The veil had not been only protection, it was also dimming the sounds, keeping the scents and the light inside. Even if they were in the middle of the trees, Thea felt like there was more light than out of the dome. She could hear birds chirping in the branches, could smell the familiar scent of wet earth and fallen leaves.
Home. That was what her heart sang, and she couldn’t understand it.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to shoot into the sky and fly above it all, in an attempt she knew would be fruitless to take it all in.
The land called her like it had been waiting for her for centuries. And her entire body tingled with a feeling she had never experienced before.
“What’s happening?” she breathed, Ash’s hand still gripped in hers. “What’s happening to me?” Her voice was shaky with emotions, and she was glad Zéfan had taken the lead and drawn the others further away.
Thea was frozen to the spot, she couldn’t walk, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was overwhelming and the fact that she had no idea what was going on or why it was happening made it all even more overwhelming.
“Thea, I—” Ash began, tearing his hand out of hers. She turned toward him so fast her head spun. He was looking down at his bloodied hand but met her gaze. He mumbled something in Hivernian that she didn’t understand. His eyes seemed even brighter here, as if being so close to his throne made him more powerful. She lost herself in those eyes as if they held the answers to all her questions. And when she felt him gently stroke against the walls in her mind, she let him in.
She let him see what was going on, she let him read all her questions and doubts, let him assess the inexplicable change that was happening inside her.
Why was this place so familiar? Why did it feel like she belonged here when she’d never set foot on Hivern before? How could she feel so connected to a land that wasn’t even hers?
“Thea,” Ash said gently. He shook his head and sighed, his throat bobbing when he swallowed. “I messed up, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I forgot—”
“What did you forget?” she repeated, frowning. She wanted to be mad at him now, because it felt like he knew what was going on and didn’t want to reveal it to her. But she couldn’t. She was in a state of euphoria so potent and strange that she felt like she couldn’t swim out of it. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“I—” He pursed his lips and Thea grabbed his hand again and tugged to force him to answer. The contact sent a thrill through her. “How do you feel?” he asked instead of answering her questions.
And Thea, instead of snapping at him and demanding answers, replied, “I feel good. Better than I have in years. It’s like all my negative emotions have disappeared.” She blinked a few times, surprised to be so open. “Why am I affected like this by this place? Why aren’t the others disturbed too?”
“I’m not sure it’s the land that’s affecting you, Thea.”
Her heart leaped to her throat and started beating frantically. She wanted to get closer to him. Closer and closer until his lips were caressing her skin, until every inch of her body was touching his. “What’s going on?” she asked, trying to fight the dizzying thoughts and feelings.
“It’s my blood,” he replied, his tone apologetic.
“What about it? Is it special? Is that why it can open the veil? Why would it affect me? I don’t understand a thing.” Thea clamped a hand over her mouth, surprised at her words. She rarely talked that much, but she couldn’t control it. She felt like anger wanted to rise in her but couldn’t, so instead, trepidation and excitement and awe grew.
Ash swallowed. “Yes,” he replied after a moment. “With all the magic surrounding us, it’s powerful… For someone not used to it, it can be disturbing.”
“But the others didn’t—”
His eyes snapped back to hers and he exhaled slowly. “The others didn’t touch my blood.” Thea pulled her hand out of his immediately, looking down at the blood stains on her skin. “Adraki blood is very powerful. And it gets more powerful as I get closer to coronation.”
“Will it fade?” she asked, her finger rubbing at the stains on her hands and trying to erase them. Before Ash had time to answer, she frowned. “But my mother touched it too.” She paused, Ash avoiding her gaze. “Why wasn’t she affected as well?”
Ash stayed silent, and Thea forced herself to step forward and demand an answer, even as her brain was foggy with emotions.
“Asher,” she pressed. “Answer me.”
He shrugged, finally meeting her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe she is affected, but they’re far, we can’t see her.” He turned away. “Come on, we need to catch up.”
Thea’s hands balled into fists as she fought against the euphoria in her mind. Despite her confusion, she was certain of one thing—Ash had just lied to her again.
Chapter 43
Fyreen couldn’t take it all in. They had crossed the small forest surrounding the palace, and now, the building loomed before them, imposing and inviting at the same time.
It was absolutely breathtaking. Huge and so, so beautiful Fyreen’s heart stopped for a second. It was nothing like the one she had spent her entire life in. It didn’t feel like a prison, didn’t feel pretentious or dangerous. It felt welcoming, like a place where happiness bloomed and thrived and conquered all.
“Welcome to my home,” Sil whispered in her ear.
Her home. For a second, Fyreen had forgotten that Sil had grown up here. That she was the daughter of the Royal couple they would soon be meeting. She was stunned. And she wanted Sil to show her every single room in this place until she grew tired of it.
But they weren’t here for that.
Fyreen smiled nonetheless and let Sil guide her inside. The guards must have recognized them because they opened the gate without question, letting them step into the courtyard. Again, it was nothing like the palace in Citadia. Instead of huge walls of bricks and bushes trimmed too sharply, the castle before her was surrounded by only a low fence of metal bars that let people see through it easily. They were black and pictured animals and faces at the peaks.
As for the vegetation, it was a beautiful mess of trees and flowers of various colors, some Fyreen had never even seen before. The smell of the flowers tickled her nose, and she breathed it in with great pleasure, marveling at the mix of odors. She wanted to touch them all, to brush her fingers over the petals and leaves as if the plants were somehow calling to her.
She turned around, looking for Thea, but neither she nor Ash was anywhere in sight. Fyreen frowned and looked around her. “Where are Ash and Thea?” she asked Sil.
“Do not worry about them,” Sil replied. “They will join us soon, I am sure.”
Fyreen nodded but the worry in her chest didn’t disappear. She hoped they were okay, even if, now that they were in the protection dome of Rénani, they couldn’t be in much danger.
“Are we going to leave to look for the Cup today?” Fyreen asked to keep her mind off Thea.
Sil shrugged and resumed walking to guide her closer to the palace. “I do not think so, we still have a lot to discuss,” she said. “It will depend on my parents. But I think we will likely leave in the morning tomorrow, so we can get a good night of sleep.”
That made sense. And Fyreen really needed some time to rest and relax before starting the journey. Along with a good bath.
Zéfan crossed the threshold of the main door and stepped inside the palace, Zéna in his wake. Fyreen watched her brother’s form disappear as Zéfan walked further away and her legs started moving faster on their own. She didn’t want to lose sight of Kirion, even if she trusted Zéfan.
“Relax, Cressa,” Sil said gently, sensing Fyreen’s anxiety. “He will be alright, I promise.”
Fyreen swallowed hard but didn’t slow down, following Ruelle and Leethan inside.
The corridor they arrived in was wide and gleaming with white marble. It was absolutely beautiful and once again, Fyreen lost her breath. Ruelle was ecstatic too, squealing with delight at every new thing her eyes landed on. Seeing her friend so excited made Fyreen smile and loosened some of the tension in her shoulders.
“I am going to get the Prince settled but you can go ahead and meet with the Croné,” Zéfan said.
“I’m coming with you,” Fyreen immediately intervened.
Zéfan smiled and nodded. “I thought you might say that. Follow me then.”
“I have to go see my parents,” Sil said, halting Fyreen. “But I will see you soon, yes?”
“Of course.” Fyreen grinned at her and let go of her hand. “See you later.” Then she followed Zéfan down the corridor while the others turned right after Sil.
“I will get him settled in one of the guest chambers that are next to the ones we will all be staying in tonight. The healer’s quarters are very close to this part of the palace, that way he will be able to keep an eye on Kirion.”
Fyreen only nodded, wringing her fingers together. She didn’t know why she was so stressed out, nothing bad was going to happen this instant. She was probably safer in the palace than she had been anywhere else. And yet, ever since she’d let go of Sil’s hand, the vial bumping at her chest seemed to weigh more, as if the Inferling himself was watching her more intensely. Of course, Fyreen knew it was impossible but she couldn’t help feeling anxious about everything that was about to play out.
Zéfan was quiet as he led her through the castle, and Fyreen didn’t think to remember the journey. She was too focused on what was happening inside her head. She only followed him absently, not really seeing anything around her. Her eyes were trained on Kirion’s legs that dangled on Zéfan’s right as he walked.
Finally, Zéfan stopped in front of a door. Contrary to the castle Fyreen had grown up in, there weren’t any guards stationed at the door, ready to open it for them or to prevent them from entering if they weren’t supposed to. Instead, Zéfan placed one hand flat on the wood and the lock clicked, the door opening for him.
“How did you do that?” Fyreen asked, her eyes wide with admiration, as she followed Zéfan into the room.
“It is a magical lock,” he replied. “But I could not explain how it works, I do not know myself.”
“I can’t believe my mother banned magic when it can be so useful and good…” Fyreen mumbled to herself.
“Sometimes, things we do not have or understand can seem very threatening. Especially when we can not control it.” Zéfan smiled at her and walked to the bed, lowering Kirion on it gently.
Even the furniture was nothing like what Fyreen was used to. The bed was simple, without the huge posts on each corner and the heavy drapes. It was just a large mattress on four feet and a pretty, wooden and carved headboard depicting animals and plants of various nature. The bricks on the walls were apparent, no ugly tapestry to hide them, and there was a small fireplace on the right wall. A wardrobe and a small table of dark wood stood in each corner and a large window lit the room in a soft glow behind the bed.
The light streamed over Kirion’s features, brightening his face. Fyreen walked over to him and grabbed the red blanket at the foot of the bed to spread it over his body. She didn’t know if he could feel the cold in his state, but seeing him so still and unresponsive on a bed was painful. At least, with the blanket, he looked more asleep than dead.
“Thank you for bringing him here,” Fyreen said to Zéfan.
“No problem,” he replied. “I will go find someone to take care of him and then we can join the others. Wait for me here if you want.”
Fyreen nodded, her eyes glued to her brother’s face. The door closed softly behind Zéfan as she gently brushed her fingers over his cheekbone, his skin cold and hard. “We will help you very soon,” she whispered to him. “I’m not giving up on you, Kirion.”
She sat next to him on the bed and took his hand in hers. She often wondered if he could hear her. And if he could, then what would he say when he finally woke up? Would he know her as if he’d never left? Or would he only remember the girl she’d been when he’d fallen asleep? Did he know that it was all their mother’s fault? Would he care? Would he still want to be king after everything? Would he feel tired, lost?
So many questions that Fyreen didn’t have the answer to. But soon she would know, because he would be awake and she would ask him.
Soon.
Zéfan led her through the palace again and stopped in front of a door that looked exactly like all the others Fyreen had seen so far.
“I thought we were meeting with the King and Queen?” she asked when he pressed his palm on the door to open it.
“We are,” he replied.
“This is the throne room?” Fyreen frowned. She understood why guards weren’t needed in front of empty rooms, but the throne room? Surely the rulers required more protection than just a simple door, right?
“There is no throne room here. It is the… meeting room, I would call it.”
“Alright,” Fyreen said. And then the door slid open.
“Zéfan,” a woman Fyreen had never met exclaimed as soon as they entered the room. “Lan él ru.” She walked to them and embraced Zéfan with a smile on her face.
Zéfan hugged her back, and Fyreen stood awkwardly to the side, her eyes detailing the stranger. Her skin was the same color as Sil’s if not a little darker and her long, jet-black hair shimmered around her lithe body. It didn’t take Fyreen long to understand that she was Sil’s mother—the Queen.
She pursed her lips. Her own mother would have never showed such signs of affection in front of so many people. Especially regarding someone who wasn’t a part of her family or the future heir. But it made Fyreen feel more welcome, more like she belonged in a way.
When the hug ended, Fyreen was still standing in the same spot, wringing her hands together. Her eyes were trailing over the soft decorum of the room, from the delicate silver ornaments that adorned the pillars to the gleaming, almost black wood of the table that stood in the middle. She finally saw Sil, who offered her a gentle smile. But before Fyreen could join her friend, the Queen spoke to her.
“And you must be Fyreen,” she said.
Hearing her name, pronounced with that same melodic accent all the Hivernians had but with a perfect mastery of Fyreen’s language, she turned toward the stranger.
Fyreen swallowed and dropped into a small curtsy. After all, this woman was a queen, even if there was no trace of a crown on her brow. She wore a pale blue tunic that matched the skirts—or rather large pants—underneath. Her feet were covered by thin slippers that looked so comfortable Fyreen almost sighed. Around her neck, a gleaming, silver chain held a small medallion that rested on the smooth, copper skin of her chest elegantly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Crona,” Fyreen replied. She had taken a point to remember the word for “queen” in Hivernian so she could address her properly.
The Queen’s light chuckle was followed by an intervention from her husband—her mate—who Fyreen had not yet noticed. “Please, there is no need for such formalities,” he said gently, smiling.
Fyreen rose from her curtsy and met the King’s deep red eyes. He had the same strong nose and sharp cheekbones as Sil, and it made Fyreen feel more at ease. His hair was cropped close to his skull and his dark, large hand rested lightly on his wife’s waist.
“Your—” Fyreen was at loss for words. She didn’t know what the Hivernian equivalent for “Your Majesty” was, and since they had asked her to drop the marks of respect, she didn’t know what to say.
“My name is Kari,” the King offered. “And my wife is Séhana. You can call us by our names.”
Fyreen’s heart sped up. She was so lost it hurt to breathe. Nothing here worked the same way as in Estiv and for someone like her who had spent her entire life learning complex social conducts, letting go of them to call foreign Kings and Queens by their first names was going to be a tough task.
Sil came to her side and grabbed her hand. “Let us begin now that everyone has been introduced,” she said softly, dragging Sil to the other Hivernians.
Ruelle immediately joined her and smiled in comfort, while Ariella detailed the room and Leethan was leaning over the table, on which a map was painted.
“Will Asher be joining us?” Kari asked. “Did he not come home with you?”
Fyreen frowned and glanced at Sil in confusion. Asher? Did he mean Ash?
“He did,” Sil replied, confirming Fyreen’s guess. “But he had something to deal with. We can fill you in for now and he’ll talk to you later.”
“Alright then,” Séhana replied, clasping her hands together and sitting down on one of the chairs available. “How many people do you need with you?”
