“They’re likely worried because of increased tensions with the Sireni,” Runa said. “Don’t take it personally, Ly.”
“I’m not,” Lyric said, though that wasn’t entirely true.
Two hours into their walk north, a glint of metal caught Lyric’s eye. She squinted, unsure of what was poking up over the rise ahead. “Do you see that?” she asked.
“They look like spears,” Runa said.
Kell cocked his head to the side. “I hear horses,” he said.
Looking back at the hill, Lyric focused on the sounds around them. In the wind, she heard the unmistakable whinny of a horse. A vibration moved through the ground, rumbling against Lyric’s feet and she grabbed Kell’s arm.
A group of twenty men and women astride large black and gray horses crested the hill. They wore scaled armor and held pikes with obsidian blades, the long weapons braced in straps near their feet. Despite their number, they were inexplicably quiet. Lyric could see the soldiers’ features before she heard the creak of shifting saddles and the thud of hooves striking the ground.
A woman, riding alone, lead the unit. She didn’t hold a pike like the others.
“Soldiers,” Runa said, quietly, as she moved to the side of the road with Lyric and Kell. “They must be responding to the ship at Heldon’s Rock.”
“Why didn’t we hear them coming?” Lyric murmured, watching the leader.
“She’s dampening sound,” Kell said.
Lyric wanted to ask how he knew, but she fell silent as the woman drew even with them.
Loosely holding the reins of her horse, the soldier glanced at Lyric as she rode by, her blue eyes flicking back to the road dismissively. Her sleeves were green, like the soldiers behind her, but a deeper color that reminded Lyric of dark moss. Blond and short, the soldier’s hair curled against the back of her neck and exposed her ears, making it easy to see the glinting orange runes tattooed down the length of her pale neck.
Lyric licked her lips, skin prickling. The woman was casting somehow, drawing magic, though her lips weren’t moving.
The stimulating sensation disappeared as the woman rode farther down the road, and Lyric turned her eyes to the other soldiers, watching them with fascination. She saw no more visible tattoos or the thrilling return of more magic.
“Do you think they’re going to fight the Sireni?” Lyric asked, stepping back into the road as the dust settled. Her stomach flipped, as she thought about the people of Heldon’s Rock and her unknown uncle, somewhere out on the water, on opposite sides of the war. Would he get caught up in this fight?
“I don’t know how they’ll reach them,” Runa said, “unless they take a fishing boat out to the Sireni ship.”
“They’re probably reinforcements for the city guard,” Kell said, “though the calvary is more effective on the field than navigating the city’s docks. I wonder why Rakarn didn’t send foot soldiers instead.”
“Maybe they’re following behind,” Runa said. “It’s good we left when we did. A battle might have trapped us in the city.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lyric said. She thought about the Daughters’ omen in the Veil. What did it mean? Who would die?
“How did you know the soldier was a mage?” Runa asked. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on Kell. “I thought you couldn’t do magic.”
“I can’t,” Kell said, “but I can feel it, an odd chill on my skin.”
Lyric blinked, thoughts shifting from the omen to Kell. Why could he feel magic when he wasn’t a mage? She thought about the tattoo on his back, the twisting lines that were part of a larger design. It’d been hard to see it in the dark house, but his tattoo didn’t look like the runes on the soldier’s neck or their mother’s arm.
What secrets was Kell hiding and why?
“I can’t make up my mind about you,” Runa said, staring at Kell.
Kell laughed, but there were shadows in his eyes.
When evening came, Lyric was ready to collapse on the ground and sleep. She was eyeing a thick stonecrop patch of reddish-yellow buds when Runa, scouting ahead, shouted back that she’d found a secluded pool.
Holding Kell’s arm, Lyric wearily stepped off the road and ascended a steep ridge of gray-veined stone. She found Runa waiting on the other side, facing away from her.
Lyric gasped, exhaustion fleeing, as she stared past her sister at a small turquoise lake at the base of a cliff. The crag beyond was monstrous, curving up from the ground like the spine of some forgotten beast. Eyes dropping back to the water, she saw it was clear and still, shielded from the biting ocean winds by the rocks they’d just climbed. Several trees grew nearby with rough, grayish-brown bark and scalelike leaves.
“There’s a smaller pool down that way,” Runa said, pointing towards the far edge. “It’s tucked beneath an overhang. I think it’s heated. I saw steam on its surface.”
“That sounds wonderful, but I’m too tired,” Lyric complained.
“Don’t collapse just yet,” Runa said, walking towards her. “Let’s get a fire going. The air is cooling off. It might be cold tonight.”
Gathering wood from beneath the trees, Runa and Kell started a fire while Lyric prepared their meal. They ate quickly, not bothering to talk, and after Lyric swallowed her last bite and could no longer keep her eyes open, she mumbled permission to wake her for her turn to keep watch, then promptly rolled into her cloak and fell asleep.
Lyric woke to Runa heating porridge in a small clay pot on the leftover coals from their fire. She looked for Kell, but he wasn’t there. “You didn’t wake me,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
“We decided not to,” Runa said, glancing at her.
“Where’s Kell?” Lyric pulled off her cloak and shook it, knocking off dirt and small stones that’d caught in the heavy wool. Laying it across her knees, she felt across her scalp and began to re-braid her hair.
“He went down to the pool,” Runa said.
“Oh.” Lyric glanced towards the overhang. Was Kell naked down there? She flushed and stood up to help Runa with breakfast.
“You should be careful, Ly,” Runa said, stirring little pieces of dried apple into the porridge.
“With what?” Lyric asked. She looked down at the ground for danger.
“With Kell.”
“What do you mean?” Lyric blushed despite herself, her thoughts straying back to Kell bathing in the pool.
“You don’t know much about him,” Runa said. “Don’t forget, Mother asked him to protect us. He’s with us because he wants something.”
“That’s why he found us, yes,” Lyric said, “but he’s not staying now out of obligation.”
“Maybe,” Runa said. “He needs us now that Mother isn’t here to take him to the capital. He’s dangerous, Ly. He’s involved in something he doesn’t even remember or understand. What if our grandfather caused the Taint and tattooed Kell? What do you think happens if he recognizes him? Or what if Mother is wrong and our grandfather wasn’t involved? What if Kell had a bigger role in Thenda’s destruction and somehow caused the death of all those people?”
“You can’t be serious,” Lyric said, eyes wide. “You think Kell, as an eight-year-old boy, destroyed an entire city?”
“I don’t think he did it alone,” Runa said, “and it probably wasn’t his idea, but maybe he has uncontrollable magic that was unleashed somehow; power he doesn’t know he has. Why did he sense the mage, Ly?”
“Kell?” Anger flared in Lyric’s chest, and she curled her fingers into fists, feeling her nails bite into her palms. “He’s been nothing but nice to you, Runa, to both of us, and you’re accusing him of — of killing people? If that were true, Mama would never have sent him to us.”
“Mother’s not infallible,” Runa said. “I’m suggesting that you should be careful giving your heart to someone with secrets. And not just a little secret, Lyric, but something world-changing.”
“You don’t want me to be happy.”
“What
?” Runa’s eyes flared, her spoon pausing mid-stir.
“You’re afraid I’m going to leave you, that you’ll be alone.” Lyric couldn’t stop herself. The words poured out of her mouth, fueled by something dark and angry inside her, something that wanted to lash out.
Mouth tightening, Runa glared at her. “Run along then, Lyric. Someday you’ll realize you can’t save everyone and that sometimes people don’t deserve saving.”
Lyric stood abruptly. She stared into her sister’s eyes, glare meeting glare, and drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m going to get Kell,” she said.
Turning, Lyric stalked towards the lake and down the embankment beneath the overhang. As she rounded the corner, disappearing from Runa’s sight, she saw Kell standing at the edge of the water. His back was to her, and he was wearing tan breeches and nothing else.
Anger forgotten, Lyric stopped short, breath catching in her throat. Tattoos covered Kell’s back, a mass of looping, twisting lines in black and green that shimmered in the morning light. More startling than the intricate tattoos were two bony protrusions atop his shoulder blades. The nubs were rough as if cut by a saw.
A bird cawed overhead, drawing Kell’s head up. He paused, tunic in his hands as he stared at the sky.
Lyric stared at his back, trying to comprehend what she saw. Had Kell had wings? Why and how? Who had done this? Did their mother know?
Runa’s words rang in her mind, but Lyric didn’t feel afraid as she stared at Kell. No, she longed to understand, to know who he was. What are you? she thought.
Kell resumed pulling his robe over his head and turned around before Lyric realized she was still standing in place, staring at him. He paused when he saw her, his tunic falling the rest of the way to cover his chest, skimming the tops of his thighs. His hair was wet and slicked back from his forehead, and his eyes were bright, almost crystalline like the cool water of the lake behind him. A smile broke over Kell’s face, one of the lazy, skin-tingling smiles he had that surely made women go weak at the knees and innkeepers give him free meals.
“I’m sorry,” Lyric said. “Breakfast is ready.” Her words tumbled over each other as she hurried to explain why she’d been staring at him like an addled fool. She flushed, her face growing hot as Kell continued smiling without speaking. What was he thinking?
“I didn’t see anything!” Lyric blurted. “I mean, I didn’t … I didn’t see your … I saw your back.” She gestured loosely, searching for words and a way out of her humiliation. “Your tattoos, Kell. I didn’t know. What are they?”
Smile slipping, Kell ran a hand over his hair. He didn’t seem annoyed that she’d surprised him, but there was sadness in his face that she didn’t understand.
“Did you get them in Thenda?” Lyric asked. She walked towards him, drawn closer by his eyes until she was an arms reach away.
“They’re from before,” Kell said.
“Before?” Lyric frowned. “I don’t understand. Your parents did that to you?”
“Not Triska and Jiri, who raised me,” Kell said. “They weren’t my birth parents. They took me in when I was four or five years old. They didn’t know where I came from or what my tattoos meant.” He smiled sadly. “They loved me even though—”
“Even though?” Lyric asked.
“They’re spells, Lyric,” Kell said, taking her hand. “My tattoos.”
Lyric looked down as Kell’s fingers twined with hers. His palm was warm and dry, and she could feel the calluses on his fingers.
“What if I was bound because of something horrible inside me, something evil? What if my mother, my birth mother, tattooed me to prevent me from unleashing something? What if I’m dangerous?” Kell tried to pull away, but Lyric put a hand on his arm. “What if I caused the Taint?” Kell asked.
“No,” Lyric said, shaking her head. “I don’t believe it.”
Kell smiled, his face sad and weary. “Sometimes, the monster in the room is an actual monster.”
“No, whatever the reason this was done to you, you’re not evil, Kell.” Lyric shook her head again. She didn’t believe it, and neither could her mother, not if she was helping Kell. Lyric thought back to the Daughters in the Veil and their omen. They’d stared at her and Kell, addressing them alone. When that which is hidden becomes whole again …
A chill settled inside Lyric’s chest. Kell’s nubs on his back. The Daughters had wings in the old stories. They hadn’t in the Veil, but she’d heard the fluttering of feathers when they’d disappeared. Was Kell’s mother a Daughter? What did that make him?
Lyric stared into his eyes, and all she saw was doubt and pain. She would not fear him.
“Maybe there’s magic inside you that’s powerful and unknowable, but you decide what it means,” Lyric said. “You are not responsible if someone took advantage of you when you were a child.”
Kell drew in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. “You think I destroyed Salta. You think I killed all those people. My mother —”
“No,” Lyric said. “I don’t, Kell.” She reached up and took his face in her hands. When he looked at her again, she held his gaze and stared deep into his blue eyes. They overflowed with grief and guilt that broke her heart. “There must be another reason you were there,” she said. “Something you saw, not something you did. You’re good, Kell, I can feel it in my soul.”
Kell smiled at her, and she felt his hands settle on her waist. His fingers were warm through the fabric of her dress. “I don’t deserve the way you look at me, Lyric,” Kell said. “I don’t understand how you can see my tattoos, my scars, and don’t run away. The blackmail …” His eyes dropped. “Another student saw my back at the Radiant Hall. Called me demon spawn, made up stories. If I hadn’t paid —”
“People can be idiots,” Lyric said fiercely. “I'm sorry.” She dropped her hands to his shoulders.
“I should walk away from you,” Kell whispered, his head bowing towards hers.
Lyric’s breath caught, and she tightened her hands on his shoulders. “No.”
Kell’s eyes darkened to a deep blue, and Lyric’s breath caught as he bent his head above her. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she shivered as his fingers shifted on her waist, drawing her closer. “Stay,” she breathed.
He kissed her, and Lyric stopped breathing altogether.
It might have been hours or mere seconds, but when Kell’s lips left hers, Lyric could do nothing but stare at him with a dazed expression, her lashes fluttering open. She smiled, a curve of the lips that grew wider and wider until they both grinned like addled fools, arms wrapped around each other.
“We should go,” Lyric whispered, staring at Kell’s face. A part of her was afraid if she looked away, he’d disappear. Nothing this wonderful would last. The giddy feeling sending sparks tumbling beneath her skin paled as thoughts of her mother resumed their place inside her mind.
“Yes,” Kell said. He lifted a hand to Lyric’s face and ran a thumb across her bottom lip. His eyes were still dark with desire. Stepping away from her, Kell reached for his pack and cloak, lying forgotten beside the pool, then held out his hand.
Blushing, Lyric slipped her hand into his, and together they walked back to Runa.
Returning to camp, they found Runa eating porridge. She eyed Lyric and Kell, then looked back down at her bowl and took another bite, saying nothing.
Lyric picked up the other two bowls and divided the remaining porridge between her and Kell, then settled herself on the ground to eat. Each caught in their own thoughts, they ate in silence, neither speaking of their shared moment by the pool.
What if Runa was right, Lyric wondered, and their grandfather used Kell to create the Taint despite his binding? Would King Rakarn recognize him when they arrived and prevent them from leaving? Were they all marching towards imprisonment?
We could walk away, Lyric thought. Disappear.
But no, that wasn’t an option anymore. Not with their mother close to death. They needed their grandfa
ther, his influence, and power.
Dread and need tangled together, as Lyric thought about the end of their journey. In a few hours, they’d reach Rathgar’s Hold. One way or another, it would all soon be out of their hands.
19
Runa
Rathgar’s Hold was a noisy, bustling city. It sprawled along the coast, a sun-beaten labyrinth of black stone buildings that punched into the sky, all vying for a view of the eastern harbor. Rising from the city’s center was the hold itself, a massive stone castle built atop a vast plateau that lifted it high above the streets and buildings below.
Standing in the center of a broad, busy street that stretched into the city’s heart, Runa could see their goal in the distance. The towering castle was impossible to miss.
“I need to sit down,” Lyric said, staring at the distant plateau.
Runa eyed her sister, seeing sweat beading along her hairline. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“I just need a moment.” Lyric wandered ahead, veering off the main street beneath a narrow archway.
Confused by her sister’s unease, Runa followed her into what appeared to be a small public garden with a burbling fountain that misted the air. Arranged around it were three stone benches, shaped like half-moons. The garden felt private and quiet, the clamor from the market dampened by the high stone walls of the houses around them.
Lyric sat down on a bench and pressed her fingers against her temples. She looked at the ground, posture stiff, so Runa wandered along the garden’s enclosing wall. Gray-green succulents trailed down the dark stone like long, braided tassels. Peering closely at the vibrant plant, Runa saw that small, pink pods peppered the fleshy leaves. They looked like tiny gems, and she scratched one with a fingernail.
Abandoning the plant, Runa resumed pacing around the garden, fingers tapping against her hips as she walked. She was impatient to keep moving. She could tell Lyric was nervous about presenting themselves at the castle, but unlike her sister, she wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Waiting wouldn’t make it easier.
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