Twice Blessed

by Taryn Noelle Kloeden

  Yes, she was afraid. She feared the depth of her feelings, of what she would do to be with Channon, and of what he would do for her.

  But Rayna had never let fear stop her from doing anything important.

  She smiled. “Then I can’t wait to go home.”

  He took her hand and walked her back to her room.

  Rayna considered the countless times he’d walked her to her den. They'd missed so many opportunities, but she was determined to make up for that.

  “Good night, Ray.” He kissed her again, this time swift and chaste.

  “Good night.” She opened the door to her room and slipped inside, before she lost what little will she had to separate from him. Once the door was closed, Rayna collapsed against it, heart racing.

  “Hi.” Mina half-smiled from where she sat cross-legged on the bed. “I’d ask how your night was going, but from the shade of your cheeks, I think I already know.”

  Rayna touched her face, feeling the heat. “We, um, had a lot to discuss.”

  “I’ll say.” Mina laughed. “Don’t act so embarrassed—this is a good thing!”

  “You think so?”

  Mina rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. So, how was it?”

  Rayna sat on the bed’s other side, unlacing her boots. “You really have no respect for privacy, do you?” She’d rather discuss almost anything else. Seeking a distraction, Rayna remembered Mina’s odd moment with Rita when they’d first arrived at the Toe.

  “So if I’m going to share details with you,” said Rayna. “Tell me something.”

  “Can’t say I’ve kissed anyone since we’ve arrived in Halmstead.” Mina sighed. “Unfortunately.”

  “No.” Rayna chuckled. “I want to know what Rita meant when she asked you if you found what you were looking for?”

  “Oh.” Mina chewed her lip. “You noticed that, huh?” She leaned back against her pillow.

  Suddenly self-conscious, Rayna pulled back. “If I asked about something you’d rather not discuss, forget it.”

  Mina shook her head. “It’s fine. I probably should have told you this ages ago, but well, life hasn’t slowed down since we met. Speaking of not slowing down. I've been meaning to give this back.” She removed Coer's knife from her belt and returned it to Rayna.

  Rayna gratefully accepted. “Thanks. You were saying?” She dug out her comb and set about straightening her tangled locks.

  “I told you I left Glarioun because my father tried to force me to wed, and that I came here for about a year before I left for Kanton. I didn't mention my father found me while I worked here, at the Toe.”

  Rayna dropped her comb in surprise. Mina had always made it seem as if she had not seen her father since she'd left home. “What happened?”

  “I was shocked he cared enough to look for me, let alone find me. Turned out, there was something he needed to get off his chest—a secret my mother never had the chance to reveal.” Mina rolled over to face Rayna. “He told me he wasn’t my birth father, that he’d met my mother when I was a babe, and agreed to raise me as his own, far away from anyone who knew differently.”

  “Oh—that’s…wow.” Rayna did not know what else to say. It seemed a massive secret to keep, but Mina was surprisingly private, despite her animated personality. “Did he tell you who your real father was?”

  “He didn’t know. My mother made him promise not to ask questions about her past. It was like she was running from something.”

  “Or someone,” Rayna supplied.

  “Right. So, I followed the only lead my father had. I went to Kanton, where he’d met my mother working at the Stag and Arrow. Eventually, I met someone who remembered her. He said my mother had a Peninsular accent when she’d first come to Kanton, so I headed south.”

  “Your mother was a Peninsular?” Rayna clapped her hand over her mouth. She'd shouted in shock.

  “That’s what’s so strange—she looked Kyrean. She had fair hair, light skin, and blue eyes. I took after my father's darker hair and skin, which I suppose is true either way.”

  “Fenearens are fair-skinned, usually. Alvornians, too.”

  Mina laughed. “If my mother was either one of those, wouldn’t I have shown some magical proclivities by now?”

  “I suppose that’s true. From what I've been taught, half-peninsulars have powers. She could have been Maenoren, but from your description, she didn’t look it.”

  “Now you understand the mystery.” Mina flipped onto her back. “The truth is, I don’t think I want to know. My mother ran from her old life for a reason. I was being immature when I sought answers. I should have respected her choice.”

  “But—”

  Mina spoke over her. “When we met, I was looking for an excuse to stop my search. I’m glad I did. Helping you save Channon and fighting for Fenear, those are much better contributions than chasing ghosts. I’m not one for looking back.”

  Rayna swallowed any protests. It was Mina’s secret, and her choice whether to pursue it. “All right, if you say so. But if you ever change your mind, I’ll help if I can.”

  “I did think about asking you to dream me an answer.” Mina quirked a smile.

  “I would if I could, but lately…” As if on cue, Rayna’s head began to ache.

  “I know. Don’t worry about me, Wolfie. I’m far more interested in what happened between you and Channon.”

  Rayna groaned.

  Mina waved her off. “I won’t force you to spill the details—Wolnor knows the two of you weren’t exactly discrete, anyway.”

  Rayna buried her head in her pillow.

  “Listen,” Mina said between giggles, “Happy as I am for you two, I do have some advice.”

  Rayna peeked out from beneath the pillow. “What’s that?”

  “Be careful. Passions run high at times like this, but I know how important Channon is to you. It's a big step, but don't let it distract you for now. You both need clear heads if we’re going to survive tomorrow.”

  Rayna nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

  But as Rayna pulled up the quilt, thoughts of Channon consumed her. She had to admit the truth, at least to herself:

  When it came to Channon, she was not sure if she could be careful anymore.

  Channon walked the narrow cliff-side road to Krymammer prison. On his right, Rayna stared straight ahead. Rope tied her hands and an over-sized hood hid her face. Channon's own bonds itched, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the pain caused by the Monil clasped around his neck.

  Cassian and Daveed strode behind them, wearing the stolen Council Guard armor.

  As the path wound through the rocky terrain, a structure came into view. The prison compound was built into stone cliffs, and walled in on three sides by solid rock. A stone wall a dozen tail-lengths tall blocked the front side. Four guard towers loomed along the wall.

  The sentinels would soon see them coming, if they had not already.

  Channon and Rayna lowered their heads. Channon moved with a slight limp, to appear cowed and beaten.

  Daveed and Cassian’s stolen armor clanked in time with their steady marching.

  A horn blared from the closest guard tower. They had been seen.

  Channon willed himself calm. This was part of the plan.

  The massive wooden gates pulled open. Six guards rode out on horseback, cantering toward them. The gates closed again within moments.

  “Halt!” One of the approaching men commanded.

  Cassian and Daveed paused and Rayna and Channon stumbled to a stop.

  “What's going on? Who are these people?” The head of the procession asked once they were within a few tail-lengths.

  Cassian and Daveed pulled back Channon and Rayna hoods, revealing their faces and Monils.

  Cassian spoke, his Peninsular accent expertly cloaked. “We’ve captured two of the fugitives, and mean to bring them to Krymammer to await the Council’s judgment.”

  “Razorn’s blood!” He and the other guards u
nsheathed their swords. “Is that really them? The Fenearens?”

  “Aye,” said Cassian. “We need to lock them up, now!”

  “Where’s the other one? The traitor?”

  “Tsanclar wasn’t with them—another reason we need to get off the streets quickly. She might be coming for them.”

  All the guards glanced around them.

  “All right,” said the leader. “Let’s hurry.” He walked his horse to stand behind Cassian and Daveed. “Back to Krymammer!” he shouted.

  Channon and Rayna stumbled along between the horses and armored men.

  They reached the gate. Channon held his breath, praying the guards would not second-guess their decision.

  “Open the gates! We’ve captured Rayna Myana and Channon Lyallt!”

  The gates drew back as two men on either side operated a pulley system.

  Channon and Rayna pretended to struggle.

  Cassian grabbed Channon, forcing him inside the compound’s walls.

  The last guard rode in behind them. The gates slammed with uncomfortable finality.

  They had made it inside Krymammer’s outer wall, but not the prison itself. Four long barracks flanked them—enough to house hundreds of guards. Beyond the barracks, lay the doors to Krymammer. The prison was cut out of the rocky hillside, part cave, part man-made structure. Like the outer wall, only a single set of doors allowed entry.

  A gray-haired guard with a pointed goatee approached them. “I’m Commander Jeris. Has the Council been informed?”

  Cassian nodded. “We sent an urgent missive.”

  “Good,” Jeris said. “But to be safe, I'll send another.” He motioned over two men. “Take the tunnels to the Upper City. Make sure the Council has been informed of the fugitives’ capture.”

  Channon’s lips twitched. That had not been part of the plan. They hadn't known about any tunnels. But, there was no way Cassian and Daveed could prevent it without arousing suspicion.

  “Right then,” Jeris turned his attention back to them. “We’ll take it from here.”

  Cassian stiffened. “I think it best we remain with the prisoners—as representatives of the Council Guard.”

  Jeris chuckled. “The Council Guard lost Rayna Myana once before, but as you say. Come.” He turned toward Krymammer's entrance.

  The twin oak doors opened slowly as the guards within turned a pair of winches to move the immense weight.

  Channon, Rayna, and their Maenoren allies followed their enemies inside the dark stronghold.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rayna winced as the prison doors shut behind them. She glanced around the entryway.

  It was a hewn rock chamber with three doorways—one to her left, to her right, and straight ahead.

  Two guards stood at each exit. Added to the six already escorting them, they had twelve opponents in this room alone. She itched to tear off the Monil she'd put on herself, but they couldn't attack until they had more information.

  Daveed shoved her with mock cruelty. “Maybe we should put you with the other dogs, and let you fight over scraps with your own kind.”

  “No,” Commander Jeris said. “We don’t want them to be near any allies. We’ll put them on the western block—as far away from the Sylrians as possible.”

  That meant the Sylrians were likely in the eastern portion of the prison.

  “I heard that some other Peninsulars were arrested yesterday,” said Cassian. “Where are they being held? We don’t want these prisoners anywhere near them, either.”

  “Not to worry, they’re in the eastern block, too,” one of the other guards piped in, eager to help. “We keep the western for our most valuable prisoners.”

  It was enough.

  As Jeris turned to the right-hand door, Cassian and Daveed unsheathed their swords. Daveed stabbed the gap between Jeris’s helmet and armor, killing him instantly.

  Rayna swallowed her revulsion and tore off her Monil.

  Channon did the same.

  They shifted, each leaping onto the nearest target.

  Rayna slammed her guard onto the hard stone floor.

  He fell limp, but Rayna could not stop to see if he were unconscious or dead. The Kyreans had recovered from the surprise offensive.

  She dodged a sword slash, and bit the man’s hand. His thumb popped between her jaws. She spat it out as he fell backward, screaming, his severed stump gushing blood. Guilt and metallic human blood turned her stomach.

  Channon, golden-furred and crimson-splattered, leaped into view. He tore out the maimed man’s throat.

  Regaining her four feet, Rayna looked around the entryway.

  Daveed and Cassian stood back-to-back defending the barred door. They used the prison’s own security against the possibility of reinforcements from the courtyard. Six Kyreans remained standing, four of whom fought Cassian and Daveed.

  The remaining two men ran for one of the interior doors.

  They could not be allowed to escape and warn the others within the prison.

  Rayna's hunter’s instinct ignited. She attacked the guard closest to her. Her teeth clamped around his ankle. She dragged him to the ground.

  She'd knocked the sword from his hands, but he slashed at her with his dagger. She yelped as the blade cut her shoulder. It was a flesh wound, but her skin felt like it had caught fire.

  As the man struggled to stand, Rayna slammed into his chest.

  Her claws found his neck. She opened his jugular.

  He collapsed, his life blood staining the floor.

  Mina shielded her eyes, checking the sun’s position. A quarter-hour has elapsed since Rayna, Channon, and the Maenorens had gone ahead.

  She glanced at Roxen where he stooped beside her along the steep hillside. They'd climbed up the rocky landscape running parallel to Krymammer’s only road. Mina and Roxen hid behind an over-hanging rock. A few tail lengths away, Katrine and the Trues crouched behind a cliffrose bush.

  Mina peered at the fortress where it lay a half-league down the narrow road. The cliffs became too perilous to risk if they climbed any farther. They could not reach the prison that way, but it served well enough as a place to wait and observe. They'd seen the main gate open, and knew Rayna and the others had succeeded in gaining entry. Beyond that, Mina had no idea what was happening.

  “You said last night the prison has two wings?” Roxen whispered.

  Mina nodded. “The guard I met complained about how far apart the eastern and western cell blocks were. Kellan and the Sylrians who haven't been sold already could be in either.”

  “Hopefully Cassian and Daveed can maintain their cover long enough to get the lay of the land, otherwise it will be up to Channon and Rayna's noses.”

  Mina gulped. A lot was up to chance, but this was not the first time they'd faced poor odds.

  Another quarter hour passed in near-silence. The wind rustled the white-and-yellow cliff-roses Waves crashed along the rocky shore far below them.

  Suddenly, Gar whined.

  Roxen jerked toward him.

  “What is it?” Mina hissed. Not for the first time, she longed to speak Wolven, though she knew it was impossible for a non-wolf to master.

  “Someone's coming.” Roxen sniffed the wind currents. “Over a dozen men and horses. From the scent of the horse's sweat, they're riding hard.”

  “Like they know something's wrong?” Mina gulped and looked to Katrine. “Looks like you'll get your fight, Little Wolf.”

  Rayna shifted human, staggering away from the man she'd killed/ She clutched her bleeding shoulder. Channon’s arms wrapped around her from behind, and she collapsed against him. Blood wet his leather jerkin, but from its scent, she knew it wasn't his blood.

  Cassian and Daveed joined them as they surveyed the twelve bodies littering the room.

  “The east block,” Cassian reminded them as he led the way to the leftmost door.

  Rayna turned to follow, but Channon did not release her. “Wait. You’re hurt.”
/>   “It’s a scratch.” She gritted her teeth. It would need stitches, but for now she had to ignore it.

  Channon let her go. There was no time to argue.

  Cassian kicked open the door, revealing a dimly lit corridor. It was a narrow hall carved from stone, wide enough for only two to walk abreast. The Maenorens gestured for Rayna and Channon to take the lead.

  “What can you scent?” Daveed asked.

  Rayna sniffed the air. It was damp and coppery blood covered most of her awareness. But beneath that, as she focused, other scents registered—few of them pleasant. The acrid currents burned with urine, smoke, and moldering hay. There were people, too, somewhere farther down the hall.

  “We’re going the right way,” she said. “Sylrians and Maenorens, I’m sure of it.” Thick blood oozed beneath her jerkin, staining the doeskin lining. She had not lost enough to become light-headed, but it was only a matter of time.

  Channon’s nose twitched beside her as he, too, scented the currents. “Just a scratch?” He turned to her, his expression equal parts concerned and irritated. “Rayna, wait.”

  “Channon, there isn't time,” Cassian began.

  “This will only take a moment.” Channon tore a strip away from his shirt, revealing the sharp lines of his abdominal muscles. He tied the fabric around Rayna’s left shoulder, staunching the bleeding.

  She bit her her lip to keep from crying out. It felt as if he’d stuck a hot poker in her already sensitive skin, but it would do the job.

  “You all right?” His eyes focused on hers. Again, the blood splashing his face brought out the vivid cornflower gradient of light blue to violet.

  She nodded and continued down the hall. As they went, the scent of people strengthened. In the dim torchlight it was difficult to see too far ahead. She scented the nearby guards before she could see them.

  “Guards,” she whispered. “At least another four or five.”

  “They must be stationed at the cell block’s entrance,” Channon guessed. “Get through them, we get to the prisoners.”