Chaos & Crowns, page 23
part #1 of Divine Articles Series
His voice tickled my ear. “Well, that’s not exactly new information. I mean, she’s a literal goddess. It’s not like any blade forged on earth can kill her.”
Rhen gasped, and I looked over to see her brown eyes shining. Her hand had gone limp on the konari’s belly, and he squirmed in protest. “What about the Blazing Sword? The gods created it, right? Maybe—” She paused, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Maybe that’s why Athan is keeping her from getting a hold of it. Because he knows it’s the only thing strong enough to kill her.”
An eerie stillness enveloped the room suddenly, quickly replaced by a cacophony of voices as everyone loudly discussed the possibility.
“We have to find it.”
“Why didn’t he let you have it, then?”
“If that’s true, couldn’t the Spear do the same?”
All of which seemed to be valid concerns to me. While the others carried on their conversation, I felt I had no place in it and quietly excused myself to head over to the kitchen.
Finding something to snack on was more difficult than I’d imagined. Ayesha’s supplies were scattered everywhere on the counters. I started stacking them neatly to one side but ended up dropping a glass jar onto the floor. It shattered, spilling a black powder.
I tensed, reminded of Baz suddenly. The sound of wood cracking when my body was sent hurtling into the wall rang in my ears and I tried in vain to push away the memory. Kol sauntered in, finding me staring down at the mess on the floor in complete shock.
“You ok? Thought I heard something break in here.” He glanced down at the shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor and let out a deep sigh. “Don’t move. I’ll get the broom.”
I stared at the powder intently while Kol swept it up. Transfixed, my body was rigid and frozen as I relived the vivid nightmare of my near death all over again.
“So, the lovebirds are leaving again. They’ve got a meeting with the Hunt, apparently.”
“Oh,” I said, my body starting to tremble. “Aren’t you going with them?”
He dumped the debris into the waste bin and exhaled, swiveling his body towards me. His expression held sorrow and regret, as if he had been hoping for a different outcome. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed again before speaking. “I would, but it seems I’ve been left on babysitting duty instead.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I offered, but I was still paralyzed in that moment, the memory of his body holding me, rocking me as if I was a babe needing consoling.
Kol tilted his head, eyeing me intensely. “Uh huh, sure. I’ll be right back.”
He came back in a few moments, but I was still in the same place, unmoved. I could feel his gaze on me as he took in the sight of me frozen still, my own eyes forward and focused. “Looks like it’s just us again,” he said, a playful grin on his face. “You hungry?”
Chapter 36
36
Rhen
Phyre could have told the Hunt herself what had happened, but she thought Phylix would want to hear it directly from us. I’d been more than a little surprised when Kol said he was going to stay at the house since he’d been so hell bent ongoing with us before, but Elm only nodded as if they had a secret, unspoken language. I started once to ask him, but decided better of it.
The shadowy glimmer disappeared like black smoke, revealing a swarm of daemons. Panic caught hold of my organs. We’d forgotten to tell them about the rune. It was too late now, as the daemons descended upon us, too.
Oddly enough, once they closed in toward me, it was as if a barrier had been placed between us—a transparent wall that kept them at bay. Elm realized it too, and ordered Phyre to stay close to me.
With all three of us huddled together, we moved in closer to the battle. Not only were there daemons looming above, but fey fighting fey. I caught a glimpse of Phylix on the west side, locked in hand to hand combat with a tall, pale-skinned male.
Phyre sucked in a breath, her sword in her hands. “Oh, gods.”
I recognized the male. He’d been the guy that had interrupted one of my dances with Luka at the ball — What was his name?
Koataa.
“Ashrai,” Elm breathed beside me, confirming what I already knew. He turned to me. “You can’t fight them, Rhen. Their compulsion magick is too strong.”
I remembered the way I’d felt when I was dancing with him. How I would have let him devour me without putting up a fight. Fear strummed through me at the thought of losing control like that again. It would be like being underneath old man Hanes, hating every second of it, but unable to do anything to stop it.
Phyre clenched her sword tighter. “Traitorous bastards.”
But they’d been preparing themselves for this for years, so Phyre and Elm dove straight into the heat of battle. Elm brought the sword over his head and slashed through two ashrai males before they had a chance to stop him. Phyre became a literal flame, set her sights on another couple of targets, and engulfed them in her fire. And I, who had the least experience fighting, managed to keep up with them, my sword singing in the air as I came face to face with a female ashrai.
“Don’t look them in the eyes!” Elm shouted over the mass chaos.
That was harder said than done, but I did my best to focus my attention on the weapon in her hands, a massive mace that oozed a green poison. I might not have known much about feyrie war, but it was probably in my best interest not to let that slime touch my skin.
Bethalar.
I didn’t have to say its name aloud anymore for my sword to come alive. It vibrated with an electric magick that hummed a beautiful tune. I used it to block the mace from slamming into my face, then countered with a strike of my own. It bit into the female’s flesh, and she screamed, following up her own attack with bitter rage.
Bethalar was an extension of my arm. I’d remembered Kol telling me to view it as that countless times, but I’d never quite understood what it meant. Even the bokken I’d used as practice had been too heavy for me to lift overhead that I couldn’t imagine becoming one with a weapon.
But when you were fighting for not only your life, but those around you, the sword almost felt weightless. Then a revelation hit me so hard and so fast it made my head spin. The Blazing Sword, the one that Athan had spoken about, could only be wielded by an earth walker. That I was the key. He’d meant I’d have to be the one to slay her, and with the Sword. But doing so would mean—No, Elm would never let me willingly waltz into her grasp like that.
The female launched another attack, swinging her mace lower, aiming at my knees. She was so fast, I barely had time to dodge out of the way before she knocked me to my feet. Not taking another chance, I jabbed the blade into the ashrai’s arm. She yelped, dropped the poisoned mace, and collapsed. She reached out for the weapon, dirt collecting under her fingernails as she dug into the earth.
Still unable to do a killing blow, I kicked it further from her reach and stabbed her in her thigh. She screamed obscenities at me, but I knew I’d injured her enough that she wouldn’t pounce on me again immediately.
I whirled, staring at both Elm and Phyre, still deeply engrossed in their own battle and the countless other enemies charging in. So many of our own were already lying in pools of blood on the ground.
I saw another pale faced ashrai and heaved myself at them, but I made a fatal mistake. My eyes met his, and my body was no longer mine. His sly smile turned my stomach, and he whispered words through the distance between us.
My fingers, one by one, released their grip on Bethalar. It clanged to the ground with a loud, angry cry as if I’d betrayed it.
“Such an obedient human,” the male said, closing the gap between our bodies. He grabbed my ass with one hand, making sure to caress the curve of it before slipping a finger into my waistband.
All I could do was stare at him in horror as he prepared to do—gods know what he was planning to do. But his foul grin gave me chills that I’d not felt in a long time. I shut my mind off and nestled down in the safe space I’d created so long ago to shield myself from the ache of this sort of trauma.
But the ashrai was yanked back. When I felt my body regain its own autonomy, I turned to see what happened, only to find Elm standing over the male’s body, his sword deep in his chest. He met my eyes, ripped the blade from the ashrai, leaving a coat of blood on it.
“I’ve got to get you out of here.”
Everything inside me wanted to scream no. I wanted to stay, but I knew he wasn’t trying to deflate my ego; wasn’t telling me I wasn’t a good enough fighter. I was too much of a liability. He couldn’t keep fighting if he had to keep his eyes trained on me, too.
And let’s be honest. I couldn’t kill these people. It was one thing to rip a beast like a kaanhound or a daemon to pieces. But I’d grown to care for the fey, even those on the opposing side. Of course, they had flaws. Some really did have dangerous powers, but that didn’t mean they were bad people.
I glanced back at Phyre, who shrouded herself in flame as she battled two ashrai at the same time. She was a phoenix spinning through the air, a lightweight sword in each hand. Fire ripped through the air, tearing through the wind.
Her magick was clearly dangerous, yet I considered her a friend. I looked back at Elm, who had his hand outstretched toward me. His eyes were a desperate shade of blue. Like he was afraid of something.
Somehow, he always knew me better than I knew myself. He could tell when I was in over my head but had no problem stepping back when I needed to do something myself.
I caught sight of the faded rune on my wrist, the one Baz had given me months ago. The one signifying his promise to me, the one he’d broken. And an idea sparked to life. It was risky. So risky, but I wasn’t sure if we had another option anymore.
My chest tightened as I slipped my hand into Elm’s as if I’d just realized what my body already knew.
I was in love with him.
It changed nothing, though. I knew what I needed to do and telling him would only complicate things.
Chapter 37
37
Luka
Kol placed a heavy metal stockpot on the stove and lit it. As the fire caught, it began to lick the sides of the pan. In no time at all, I could hear it sizzling. He grabbed a rather large spoon and dropped in a heaping scoop of margarine from the jar that was standing by his side. It melted almost instantly, creating an aromatic smoke that filled up our kitchen with its pleasant smell. Kol stirred it around until all the butter had been absorbed.
“Do you want some help?” I offered, feeling a bit useless. I’d let him clean up my mess, and now I was just standing there watching over his shoulder as he cooked me yet another meal.
He smiled, and I saw his gray eyes soften. “Well, I know you can eat, but if you’re cooking is anything like Phyre’s—”
“I’m actually quite good. My mom worked as a chef at the palace for a long time. I’m not as good as her, but I know my way around a kitchen.” I hoped I hadn’t sounded too self-absorbed the way that it had come out, but his wide grin told me he hadn’t thought that at all.
He pulled a wooden spoon from one of the drawers and beckoned me with it. “Okay, hot stuff, prove it. Can you make the roux?”
“Easy peasy,” I retorted. “Where’s the flour?”
He pointed to an upper cabinet with the spoon, stepping aside for me to grab it. Quickly clearing off more counter space, Kol handed the spoon to me.
“I’m going to cut some vegetables. Don’t burn it.” He warned, but his eyes danced happily, as if he’d been aching for someone to join him in the kitchen.
I started on the simple roux, adjusting the flour to the amount of already liquefied margarine in the pan. Slowly stirring the contents together until it created a thick, creamy texture. I glanced at Kol. He was busy cutting up broccoli and onions, his hands deftly sliding the knife through the vegetables with ease.
The smell of cooking wafted through the kitchen, and I found myself smiling watching him work. A strange feeling started in my stomach. I had to look away quickly, turning my attention back to the stovetop.
Sweat poured down my forehead. The heat from the stove was no joke. I wiped furiously at it with my sleeve, not wanting to taint the roux. Turning down the heat, I stirred constantly so it wouldn’t burn. Thankfully, Kol brought over a cup of cream to add to it.
He chuckled behind me, but I focused on the pan to the best of my ability, hyperaware of his breath on my neck. I could feel my heart thundering against my breastbone.
He was so close.
“You know,” he murmured in my ear. “You really are quite cute.”
I couldn’t tell if it was the heat from the stove or if I was blushing, but I kept my eyes averted from his. Though I could feel his boring into my back.
“Here,” he said a few moments later, handing me a glass jar filled with fresh milk. “Add about half.”
“Kay.” Something about the intensity of his eyes had me in a choke hold, like I was compelled to do anything he asked. If I hadn’t known he was a sylph, I’d assume he had ashrai magick.
Once I’d poured everything into the pot, he casually scooted me to the side with his shoulder. Not in a forceful way, but assertively. I watched as he dumped in finely chopped broccoli and onions.
“Cheese,” he ordered, still stirring the soup, “There’s a plastic bag in the refrigerator.”
I felt a little defeated and slightly disappointed, like he’d taken over because he didn’t think I was doing a good job, but when I brought the entire bag of cheese to him, he smiled lazily at me and backed up.
“How much?”
He winked, and chills ran up my spine. “The whole thing.”
I did as he asked, dumping the entire contents into the soup. Why did I feel so awkward around him? His flirtatious commentary wasn’t only targeted at me. He was like that with everyone, so why did I get so flustered when he directed it toward me?
Kol reached out to me, brushing a finger over my forehead. I startled, staring at him with bewilderment.
“Wha—”
He smiled once more, this time with a proud glimmer in his eyes, and held up his finger to display the white powder smudged on it.
Oh, so that’s why he kept staring and laughing at me. I felt foolish, so I laughed, too.
“Oops. Guess I’m a messy cook.”
Silver eyes twinkled with curiosity as we locked gazes, and I found myself instantly captivated by them. They shone like the stars in a night sky, or the gleaming waters of a lake at noon. As I stared deep into them, I could feel my heart rate quicken and my breath catch in anticipation.
“A messy chef is a good one.”
Kol’s hand twitched, but he dropped it beside him. His face crumpled, and I didn’t understand the change in mood. I started to ask if he was okay, figuring his wings might be causing him some pain, but couldn’t form the words on my tongue.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “Well, I need to go stretch my wings and get some fresh air. It should be ready when the cheese is all melted.”
He seemed flustered about something, though I didn’t know what. With a quick nod, he vanished, leaving me alone in the kitchen with the mess we’d created. I finished the soup, making sure there were no clumps of cheese before placing it into the refrigerator.
Nearly two hours passed before he finally returned to the house. I had begun to worry if I had scared him away with my terrible cooking, yet still, I persevered and waited for him to arrive despite the burning sensation of hunger deep within my gut.
He’d offered me no explanation for the change in attitude, and I didn’t press for an answer.
But when he started questioning my relationships with both Rhen and Elm, I couldn’t help but wonder if he thought maybe I was standing in their way.
That was until I offered to pour him a bowl of soup and he uttered a single phrase under his breath when he’d thought I was out of earshot that had me shaking.
I like you.
No.
I must have heard him wrong. No way he would have said something so painfully confusing. And even if he had, he didn’t mean it.
Right?
He was always saying things like that to everyone. I’d heard him hit on literally every single person, no matter their gender or race. It was just—Kol.
No. I laughed uncomfortably to myself.
I like soup? Yeah. That’s it! I had just offered him a bowl.
Right?
Rhen
Elm dropped me off at the door, then glimmered back to the Hunt without so much as a word. I wanted to pull him back, tell him that I knew how to fix it, but I knew better. If I even uttered a word of my plan, he would refuse to let me go through with it. It was better this way, leaving him in the dark, so I watched him disappear into his black shadows.
My heart was heavy as I stumbled inside, tracking snow into the entranceway. I had hope, an almost expectation that Luka would be there waiting to greet me, but no one did.
“Luka?” I called, but it was Kol that answered me.
He emerged from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. “His room, I think.”
“Thanks.”
He blocked my path, an odd expression in his eyes. “Hey, Rhen? Can I ask you something?”
I fumbled over my words. “Uh, yeah. Yes, what’s up?”
“Do you think Luka is still in love? With Elm, I mean?”
Caught off guard, my mouth opened as I processed what exactly he was asking me. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why?”
He sighed, a long and heavy sound that radiated from the depths of his chest. “Just—Just wondering if that’s what’s stopping you from going for it. I mean, it’s obvious that you have feelings for him. It’s exhausting.”
