Our Vicious Oaths, page 22
“Samira is a fighter. She’ll be all right,” Kadeesha firmly answered Theo, not leaving room for any other outcome. Live, she commanded Samira once more. Live.
Trystin ceased the drawings. He sank to the ground, sitting with his hands braced against his thighs. He panted. His white tunic with silver threading stuck to his torso, drenched with sweat. Samira’s wounds were gone and her chest … Thank the Celestials, her chest vigorously rose and fell, a clear sign she was breathing. Kadeesha leaned forward and squeezed Samira’s hand, needing her sister to open her eyes before she allowed herself to truly believe she’d be all right. Several moments passed, and it didn’t happen. Yes, Samira was breathing, but she didn’t otherwise stir.
“What’s the matter?” she asked Trystin, her gut tightening.
“The damage was severe,” he replied. “So severe that I could only do so much with a rune. Her body needs time to mend itself fully.”
Kadeesha let out a slow, controlled breath. “She will wake up, yes?” she whispered to Trystin. You had better, she demanded of Samira.
Trystin’s sympathetic expression made her stomach lurch. “I am exceptionally adept at rune work, so hopefully. But even I have my limits of the feats I can achieve.”
She didn’t want to hear about limits. She didn’t want to hear words like hopefully. She was about to say just that when Leisha once again squeezed her hand. Kadeesha looked to her friend, and Leisha nodded, trying to pass along whatever strength she could. Kadeesha took a deep breath, somehow managed to wrestle her frenzied worry under control, and softly said to Trystin, “Thank you for doing what you could.”
She then prayed to the great Celestials that Samira’s immortal body would repair itself fully and she would wake up. This made twice now that she’d placed her sister in danger and she’d been harmed because of Kadeesha. If Kadeesha had never insisted on traveling to the Stone Keep with Malachi, if she’d backed down when she was met with opposition, then Samira would’ve never been anywhere near the wall when it blew apart.
If if if, she thought. Too much of my life right now is surrounded by if.
Chapter Nineteen
ZAYVIER AND SAMIRA WEREN’T THE ONLY TWO LYING in infirmary beds. The entire wing was crowded with more injured fae than it had proper beds. Cots from the stores of surplus military supplies had been brought in, and yet there were still people scattered among the floor with wool blankets as their makeshift bedrolls. The healers had given the actual beds to those with the gravest injuries, the cots to those who only required moderate treatment, and spaces on the floor to those who had come in with wounds that required brief triage. Then, there were those like Zayvier and Samira—fae whom a healer had done all they could for and whose psyches and bodies had slipped into stasis while their immortal bodies worked overtime to restore that which was beyond the reach of any mending a healer could achieve. Even ones as extraordinary as Malachi was with his void magic and Trystin was with his rune work.
Malachi scrubbed a hand down his face. It’d only been a handful of hours, but it felt like he’d been sitting in the chair at Zayvier’s bedside for days. “Have you arrived at a better estimate of when he’ll rouse?” Malachi asked the healer—a black-haired fae male—who’d just finishing recording Zayvier’s heart and breathing rates.
“I have not, Your Grace,” he answered. “Such precision cannot be—”
“Then what the fuck are you good for?” Malachi growled.
The male paled. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not mean to give insult. It is only that—”
“It is only that you need to get out of my face.”
Malachi knew his anger was misplaced, and that the healer was just unlucky enough to be a target within reach. But he didn’t care too much about any of that. He stood, took a step toward the frightened man, towering over him by a good head. “The lord in this bed is very important to me. Do you understand? He had better wake up. And you better do everything within your power, use every scrap of knowledge, herbs, runes, and whatever else is at your disposal, to see that he awakens sooner rather than later. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The male vigorously nodded his head. Hands trembling, he turned to a tray that an attending servant held and picked up some clear tincture in a glass vial.
“I understand you’re out of sorts, but bellowing at the healer tending to your friend won’t much help matters,” came a feminine voice. It carried an unmistakable rebuke.
He worked his jaw. He turned and swept a withering look down the length of Kadeesha Mercier, who now stood beside him. She squared her shoulders, raised her chin in the infuriating manner she often did to make him aware, in no uncertain terms, that she thought him beneath her and a brute.
So he grinned, ready to be exactly what she judged him as. He needed a better outlet for his wrath. One who would give as good as he did. One who would present a true challenge. A formidable fight. One who wouldn’t cower and make directing his rage at them less fulfilling.
Celestials be damned, the explosion had been an attack aimed at him. Why else would the blast have gone off right as he was returning to the palace? He was sure the goal had been to kill him. Too bad for his enemies, he lived. Worse for the bastards, it wouldn’t be only the individuals who schemed against him that paid. Their gall to attack his inner court and his palace had signed the death warrants of their entire bloodlines. He’d wipe out every trace of the polluted families that bore them. Starting with Lady Niyarre and Bloodline Niyarre.
But first, he needed to clear his head.
Kadeesha didn’t disappoint. Instead of quivering, she remained maddeningly collected. She waved off Malachi and the wisps of shadows that now ominously swirled around him. “Save that energy for the ones who deserve it. I wasn’t the one who detonated the equivalent of a magical blast. I didn’t place your friend in an infirmary bed.”
“Make no mistake, Princess, those who did will be addressed. Once I am done with them, the devastation the earth tremors wrought will look minor by comparison.”
She nodded curtly. “Good. I’ll be helping.” She stated it coolly, but the thirst for blood was evident in the fury mixed with a particular brand of darkness that Malachi knew well.
He smiled, and for once it was an earnest one. It was also the opposite effect he’d expected her to have on him. He’d been aiming to trade satisfying snipes and snarls with her. But her pragmatism—and shared enthusiasm for bloodshed—was oddly soothing. “Someone of your inner court is lying injured, too,” he said with less bite. “So, I suppose you would be, and you have every right.”
“Do you think Lady Niyarre is responsible for the attack?” Kadeesha inquired.
Malachi clenched his jaw so tight his teeth ached. “I do.”
“So that means the wider Cleric’s Rebellion is also involved, whose remaining members you have not tracked down.” This time, the princess posed no question. Rather, she delivered an observation that let Malachi know she had filed away the pertinent details they’d extracted from the Stone Warden’s sentry.
The shadows grew denser and thickened around him as he said, “I’ll have my hands on all guilty parties soon enough, as well as indisputable proof incriminating everyone involved, including any lord primes who are colluding with Lady Niyarre.”
“I know you’ve set your people to an inquisition among the Stone Warden’s soldiers, but I’d simultaneously go after her daughter,” Kadeesha suggested. “From what I ascertained when I met her, Arrenia seems a weak and easily broken sort. And if you want indisputable evidence, then testimony from a fellow noble always holds greater weight above any other source.”
“I agree,” he said, the shadows about him churning violently, “but on the chance she gives nothing up, or if Lady Niyarre was smart enough to place a charm on her that prevents her from speaking of her deeds, then I’ll have tortured a daughter of a cardinal bloodline, one I’ve slept with, no less, and that will look very, very heinous.”
Kadeesha cocked her head, and the judgment she rendered was clear on her face. He drew himself up tall.
She sighed, started to say something, then stopped and pursed her lips. When she finally spoke, it was to point out, “I am surprised you’re concerned with looking terrible. Isn’t that what you get off on?”
He chuckled. “Usually. But there is that pesky prophecy about me being too great an ass, so I’ve been trying to play mostly nice with my lord primes in order to prove it has no merit since ascending the throne. I’m sure you overheard how I’ve got to work around that too while hovering in the skies.”
Kadeesha studied Malachi for a time. As she did, it was clear she was weighing something. “It sounds like someone who isn’t you or a part of your Cadre needs to question Arrenia, then,” she said. “If I am your supposed plaything, I’m guessing that leaves me too close to you as well. But I can have Leisha do it. If Lady Niyarre is behind the explosion, then she now owes me twice the blood debt, and Leisha is extraordinarily good at extracting information from those who may be reticent to give it up. If there isn’t a charm in place, she’ll get whatever Arrenia knows.”
Malachi crossed his arms over his chest. “She didn’t manage to break my soldiers that you captured and then killed,” he murmured, although without any real heat. They had been encroaching on and spying within her territory, after all, and if their positions were reversed he would’ve done the same. However, he did enjoy needling Kadeesha, and their back-and-forth was a welcome distraction from Zayvier’s circumstances.
She responded as he expected. “Since we are directly addressing that now, they were a trespassing enemy force. Also, your soldiers were trained well to be loyal to a fault—I don’t know if Arrenia will have had such training.”
Saying yes to turning Arrenia over to Leisha handed a great deal of power to Kadeesha by allowing her, an outsider, to meddle in affairs of his court. But, as she’d stated, the warden did owe her double the blood debt, and if one of her people interrogated Arrenia on that basis, then it wiped his hands clean of the stain while still getting the information he wanted. “I’d like the task performed tonight. She must do it discreetly,” Malachi decided. “I’ll arrange a private space in the palace dungeons and make sure she isn’t disturbed. Jakobi will alert Leisha when everything is in place.”
“I’ll fill her in on the task,” Kadeesha responded with a dark edge that made him recall she was the very same woman who’d burned an encampment of his soldiers to the ground before leaving only a few alive for questioning. He watched after her as she departed. Her hair had changed, he noted, since they’d departed the palace for the keep earlier that day. The numerous waist-length braids she’d woven her hair into had been pragmatically gathered into one thicker braid then. Now, her hair was unbound and the silky braids swayed in sync with her hips as they brushed against them. His eyes dipped down. The way her flying leathers hugged her lush ass made his cock jump, made him want to grip her hair—which was devastating when hanging loose—while he pushed into her from behind.
He scowled, because for once, he could fully admit this wasn’t the proper time. When he got it together and pried his eyes away from her ass, he sighted Kiyun approaching. His tense gait let Malachi know there was more bullshit going on. Fantastic.
“Have the healers said anything different about Zayvier?” Kiyun asked once he stood in front of Malachi.
“No. They’re being useless,” Malachi said.
Kiyun cursed.
“I’ve set Trystin to searching for a rune that may speed up his awakening if it lingers,” Malachi told Kiyun to ease both of their nerves.
“If anyone can unearth something of that manner, Trystin can,” replied Kiyun confidently.
Malachi nodded and then shifted topics, lowering his voice so that what he spoke was only heard by the two of them. After he passed along the conversation he’d had with Kadeesha about Leisha interrogating the warden’s daughter, he asked Kiyun, “Can you coordinate what’s needed for it to happen so I can remain here?”
“I’m on it,” Kiyun said, his voice as low, “but as for you staying here … we have a problem that needs to be addressed and you can only do it yourself.”
“And that problem is?” Malachi asked tightly.
“I understand you want to remain at Zayvier’s side. We all do. But you can do nothing for him here, and Cassius, at present, is leveraging the explosion to his benefit. He is at the attack site, standing atop the ruins, and he’s pointing your absence out to all who will listen. He has pledged to help with restoration efforts and people whisper that you have done no such thing yet and you disappeared right when it happened.”
“Because one of my inner court was gravely injured!” Malachi cried, not believing what he was hearing. “Surely those whose Cassius’s speech reaches the ears of will reflect on that. It is no secret where I am. And I am taking care of the rest of my people too. I’ve tasked Trystin, our grand duke, to act in my stead and do whatever needs to be done.”
Kiyun laid a hand on his shoulder. “The fact still remains, friend, that Zayvier is one person, and you are the Apollyon Court’s sovereign. The people, and the lord primes, expect you, their monarch, to place the needs of the whole above the needs of one and they expect to see you doing it. You know this.”
Fuck the lord primes! Malachi bit his tongue so as not to bellow it and create more talk for people to pass around. A black haze overlaid his vision. Kiyun’s touch was the only thing that kept him grounded, thinking rationally, and from descending fully into the rage. However, it was a hard-won effort. “Cassius is a snake,” Malachi hissed. “I wouldn’t put it past him to have had knowledge of or been directly involved in the blast to weaken me prior to the challenge, and now he stands before the court pretending otherwise. Acting as if he gives a damn about anything other than his little power grab.”
“Cassius is the lowest form of scum,” Kiyun agreed. “But he is charming and has a silver tongue and excels at presenting himself as savior, not serpent. You will kill him during the challenge and be rid of him. But prior to that, you need to play Cassius’s game. Rather, you need to best him at his own game,” Kiyun impressed upon Malachi. “Which means you must force yourself to step away from Zayvier’s bedside and show yourself to our people. You must let them behold you, this court’s king, leading efforts to render aid to those affected by the blast and to restore the palace wall. Do not let Cassius be the sole face that offers support and empathy and shows up for our people after catastrophe has struck.”
As much as Malachi loathed having his strings pulled by the tiresome games of court instead of just tending to what needed to be done, Kiyun was right.
“Come here,” he instructed a healer who was passing by. The woman approached Zayvier’s bedside and bowed. Once she’d straightened, he pointed to Zayvier and told her, “This man is essential to me. I want him cared for during every moment of every day. I also want updates at sunrise, high noon, and sunset about his state.”
The woman bowed again and replied, “Of course, Your Grace.”
Before departing he looked over at Kadeesha seated beside Samira and added, “That same order goes for the Aether woman who is being cared for by healers in this infirmary. Work to get her awake and fully restored to health as speedily as you do with Zayvier.” He issued the command because there was no question that he owed Kadeesha a debt—two, actually—following the blast. He’d seen Kadeesha fling herself atop Theo, the defenseless green stripling, and provide him safety when the palace wall had been blown apart. She wasn’t an Apollyon fae, and she held no allegiances to Malachi or any member of his court. She didn’t have to help the boy, and perhaps, if she’d ignored his peril and aided her own people first, Samira wouldn’t have ended up buried under stone. Then, there was the needling matter that while he knew he hadn’t directly violated his oath that no harm would befall her people while in his court, one of them had been injured. He’d expected Kadeesha to express both points when she’d approached him. He was a mighty fae king, and most others wouldn’t have passed up the golden opportunity to remind him that he owed them fresh boons. But she’d offered her aid to him instead. He shook his head because it was a mystery as to why she chose one route and not the other. He didn’t have the time to press her about it, though. Making himself content with having repaid one of his debts to Kadeesha, he made a mental note to gain answers about everything later and then prowled toward the exit to play his cousin’s infuriating games.
Chapter Twenty
SHE’D WANTED TO HOLD VIGIL AT SAMIRA’S BEDSIDE, stay there until her sister woke up. But the more she heard talk of the ruin at the palace’s gates from those venturing in and out of the infirmary, the more impossible it became for Kadeesha not to help clear away the wreckage. She shouldn’t have cared; this was neither her kingdom nor her people. But then she’d looked at all of the injured folk in the infirmary and she’d felt completely useless. Had been feeling that way since she’d arrived with Samira, trying her best to stay out of the healers’ ways. So, she’d kissed her sister’s forehead and ordered her to wake up soon, and then she’d gone to the destroyed section of the palace wall. There was so much rubble to clear away, so many bodies to still dig out. Magic-less fae cleared what they could with bare hands, hauling the slabs, boulders, and smaller rocks into wheelbarrows. Those who possessed void magic used it to eat away at and break up the largest of stone and onyx pieces that were too enormous to be lifted. Kadeesha set about helping the Apollyon fae with the arduous work. Witnessing the utter carnage made her gut viciously wrench, and though these were not her people, she mourned for each of the dead that were unearthed.
At some point, she found herself toiling away beside Malachi. As she used her aether to burn chunks of rock to fine ash, Malachi used his shadows in a similar fashion. He engulfed large areas in pools of blackness that left only fine silt behind when the blackness vanished. They worked silently, well after the waning moon appeared in the sky and night spilled across the land. When the cleanup crews were starting to thin out, Malachi breached the silence that had lingered between them.
