The Vine Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 2)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “So,” she concluded, again looking at Krey, “I need you to fly me there. Tomorrow night.”

  “Nora.” His stubborn, sharp gaze sliced into her. “I can’t fly you to the palace. We might as well offer to let your father start up another militia, right there, with you and me as the first two members.”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” she hissed.

  “Maybe not to you. But he’d control me in a heartbeat. You know it as well as I do.”

  She opened her mouth but promptly closed it again. Her father had taken Faylie—Nora’s best friend, her only friend—for his own purposes. He hadn’t just controlled her; he’d turned her into a brain lyster. When Faylie had lost her very self to the sadism of dark magic, he hadn’t let up. Now he had his grip on Dani, a woman he used to love as a sister.

  Would King Ulmin snatch up the arrogant, talented lyster whose arrival at the palace had led to Nora’s exit? In a second, Nora realized. “Then we won’t let you get anywhere close to him,” she said. “You can drop me off outside the palace grounds. We’ll make another ice ladder. We’ll—”

  “No!” Krey interrupted. “If I thought this would work, I’d take you without hesitation! I’m saying no because it’ll make things worse, not better. I’m saying no because I care about the nation of Cellerin as much as you do!”

  “As much as I do?” Nora’s voice turned shrill. “It’s my land! I’m supposed to protect it!”

  She realized the entire room had turned quiet. She looked down at her untouched food. She was so tired. Was she even making sense? Her eyes flicked up and found three concerned gazes. No, two concerned gazes. Krey was watching her from under angled brows, his jaw clenched, lips tight. What did I say this time?

  “It’s not your land.” Krey’s voice was low. “This nation doesn’t belong to the royal family, Your Highness. It belongs to all of us. We’re all supposed to protect it. Not you alone.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. He’s right. Damn it. I hate that. “Okay,” she said, returning her gaze to his. “You’re right, we all need to protect the kingdom. It doesn’t belong to me. But I do care about it. More than I ever realized. And if anyone can reach the king and prevent war, it’s me.” She took a deep breath. “Osmius said he’d take me. I’d rather go with you, because my father will control Osmius if he realizes he’s nearby. But if that’s my only option, I’ll make it work. We’ll go at night.”

  Nora hadn’t planned this lie. She was exhausted and desperate, and the false words came far too easily. Krey always wanted to be in the middle of things. If he knew she was going anyway, surely he’d insist on bringing her.

  “If you’re gonna ride a dragon, why not Taima?” Krey asked. “The king’s never touched her. She’s safe from his control.”

  For a split second, Nora froze. Was he calling her bluff? She recovered, the lies again sliding effortlessly from her mouth. “She’s still healing from the militia battle. A wound on her side got infected. She can help us if the army invades. But she doesn’t think she’d make it all the way to the palace.”

  Krey’s eyes narrowed. Nora didn’t flinch. He looked away, returning his attention to his food. Over the next few seconds, Ovrun and Zeisha did the same. Other than the scrape of metal forks on clay dishes, the table was silent. Nora was trying to convince herself to eat another bite of sausage when Krey at last spoke again.

  “It’s a bad idea.” He took a sip of his water and set it down firmly. “But you win. I’ll take you.”

  Krey shoved feathers in his mouth and picked up his pace. He needed to get to his assigned rooftop and relieve the night watch. He’d stayed at the breakfast table longer than he’d planned, thanks to Nora’s terrible idea.

  “Krey, wait!”

  He turned to see Zeisha running toward him. When she caught up, she said, “I wanted to talk to you privately before we both go to our rooftops. I’ll walk with you.”

  They set off together. Krey stuffed his mouth with too many feathers and started chewing.

  “Do you really think you should take Nora to the palace?” Zeisha asked.

  Krey pointed to his full mouth. Zeisha’s dark eyebrows lifted. Her smile told him she knew he was avoiding the conversation. It’s nice to have someone in your life who knows you so well. Except when it’s not.

  She walked quietly next to him while he continued chewing. If anyone else were questioning him, he’d take to the air. But he couldn’t keep the truth from Zeisha. He swallowed. “I’m not going to take her.”

  Zeisha’s head tilted to one side. The sun glimmered in her wide, hazel eyes. “You lied?”

  He sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “She lied to me first. Do you really think a two-hundred-year-old dragon would be stupid enough to take her to the palace? She’s determined to get there no matter what. I’m just delaying her until I figure something else out.”

  Zeisha’s voice was gentle. “Krey, you lied to your friend.”

  He stopped and faced her. “I lied because she’s my friend.” The words dredged up something in him, some anxious fire he couldn’t explain. He resumed walking, faster now. Why did he care so much about the spoiled princess who’d brought him to her palace for her own entertainment?

  But he knew the answer to that question. Nora had risked her future, her comfort, her very life, to save the militia. By the sky, the only reason Krey was walking next to the girl he loved was because Nora had killed her best friend. He hadn’t wanted to give the princess his friendship, but she’d earned it. No way in hell was he going to let her return to a father who’d break her heart and ruin her life.

  How could he explain all that to Zeisha? He wanted to assure her that Nora was only a friend. And that was true; Krey had eyes for no one but the girl at his side. But . . . only a friend? That term minimized what he, Nora, and Ovrun had forged in their few months together. Krey honestly believed he’d die for either of them. Would Zeisha understand that?

  Her hand found his, and her mouth softened into the smile he loved. “These recent months have changed you,” she said, “and I want you to know I love who you are.”

  The words were a breath of peace to his soul. He stopped for long enough to kiss Zeisha’s temple. “I don’t want Nora to get hurt,” he said as they continued walking. “I didn’t want to lie to her, but I . . . I needed some time to figure out how to stop her from sabotaging her own future.”

  “How will you stop her?”

  The question, direct and simple, had an odd effect on Krey. An idea had been simmering in his mind—for how long, he wasn’t sure. Certainly since before the battle for the militia. The notion had lurked in the background, so unthinkable that he’d barely been aware of it.

  Until this moment . . . when he realized the reckless, stupid, horrible idea had somehow morphed into an actual plan.

  Zeisha won’t like this.

  He considered hiding it from her, then chided himself for the thought. It was bad enough to lie to a friend. He wouldn’t set that precedent with the girl he hoped to marry.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to come out and say it either.

  For the first time since Zeisha had found him, Krey took notice of their surroundings. They were in an uninhabited part of the city, between trog clan territories. Their route formed zigzags around old vehicles. The empty buildings looked almost sad, their gaping windows and doorways reminding Krey of dead eyes. In the distance, the call of a feral caynin—uh-uh-uh—rang through the city air.

  “Krey?” Zeisha asked.

  He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath. “At some point, we gotta fight fire with fire.”

  She stopped walking.

  He’d expected her to respond with questions. But when he halted and met her gaze, he realized she knew exactly what he was saying. Her eyes were wet, her chin and lips tight. She shook her head slowly and spoke in a choked voice. “Krey.”

  Oh, this had been hard enough when he was just thinking about
it. Seeing Zeisha’s face, her beautiful mouth twisting with dread . . . that made it ten times worse. She was as hesitant to speak the words aloud as he was. Neither of them wanted him to take the path he was now considering.

  But what other choice did he have? Something in him had known it would come to this, to him returning to a time in his past he’d promised himself never to revisit. Better now than in the middle of a battle, with people already dying.

  “I’ll be careful,” he said.

  She was still shaking her head.

  Would she tell the others? Expose the piece of his history that no one in the world except the two of them and Krey’s aunts knew about? Would Zeisha do something to stop him?

  If she asked him not to do it, he might not be able to. He could deal with Zeisha being angry with him, not that it happened often. Could he live with her disappointment? He brought his hands to her cheeks, wanting to comfort her, anxious to know what else she’d say.

  She didn’t speak at all. Just wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. He held her tight, appreciating her warmth and acceptance.

  Then she walked away. When she was out of sight, Krey took to the sky.

  15

  Deroga’s mayor, Mintin Shew, just celebrated his seventieth birthday by running from the western edge of the city all the way to Burig Bay.

  I’m proud of the guy, really. But I’m embarrassed that I could barely complete the two-clommet run my school required last week.

  -“Mayor Shew Wears out His Shoes” by Genta Ril

  The Derogan Chronicle, dated Quari 23, 6293

  Zeisha didn’t know how long she’d been lying awake, but it felt like hours. The sun had finally risen, and she heard a few former militia members quietly getting ready. She couldn’t bring herself to climb out of bed. Too anxious to sleep. Too tired to get up. Covering her head with her thin pillow, she tried to drown out the reminders that daytime had arrived.

  Krey had first told her of his plans—or rather, not told her of his plans—three days ago. She hadn’t gotten any time alone with him since then. He’d ended up with extra guard shifts, thanks to a sick trog. When he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Yesterday, he’d finally had time off, but she was on a rooftop, growing plants.

  Would he willingly return to one of the darkest times in his life? Should she ask him not to? She understood why he felt it was the only way. But the consequences . . .

  “Happy birthday!” several voices shouted.

  The sound made Zeisha jump. Whose birthday was it? And why couldn’t they celebrate later in the day?

  Someone pulled the pillow off her head. She groaned and opened the eye that wasn’t smashed into her bed.

  Krey stood above her, beaming. “Happy birthday!”

  “Oh.” Her voice came out rough. She knew it was the month of Wolf, but had the 26th come already? Was she really eighteen today?

  Krey kissed her. “Kinda weird,” he said, “kissing an adult.”

  She hit him with her pillow.

  Zeisha didn’t know why Eira had agreed to give her, Krey, Nora, Ovrun, and Isla the morning off. But she appreciated it. After breakfast, they’d all remained in the militia dining room.

  Nora and Ovrun had strung together pieces of broken, multicolored polymus, then hung the impromptu streamer above the table they all used. The festive decoration reminded Zeisha of birthdays at home, when her mom decorated their dining room. She missed her family so much, her chest ached with it. With effort, she pulled her focus to the present, letting her friends’ banter redirect her maudlin thoughts.

  About half an hour into the party, Isla said, “I wish I could stay, but my team has a ton of buildings to sweep today, and I don’t want to leave it all to them.” She gave Zeisha a hug and jogged off.

  Zeisha tried to smile as she watched Isla leave. Not many people understood what it had been like in the militia. She’d thought she and Isla could help each other through this strange, painful time. But unlike Zeisha, Isla seemed to be handling the transition from mental bondage to trog life with aplomb. She’d made new friends and was enjoying her life as part of the Star Clan.

  Zeisha had made new friends too, but she wasn’t really settling in. While Kebi was infallibly kind, they hadn’t known each other long. Krey, Nora, and Ovrun were all wonderful, but their closeness and inside jokes often left Zeisha feeling like an outsider.

  Isla’s moving on. Everyone else is embracing trog life. Why am I the only one who feels so stuck?

  “Zeisha?” Nora’s soft voice brought Zeisha back to the moment.

  Krey and Ovrun were standing. “Be back soon,” Krey said.

  “Where are they going?” Zeisha asked as they walked away.

  Nora laughed. “You were in another world, weren’t you? They have a secret mission. Very hush-hush. Ovrun wouldn’t even give me a hint.”

  Zeisha’s lips relaxed into a smile. Birthday surprises from Krey, just like old times. Maybe some things hadn’t changed.

  “While we’re waiting, want to play some Skip Slide?” Nora asked.

  “Sure.”

  Nora retrieved the game from a chest across the room. Back at the table, she unfolded the simple wooden board, which was covered in painted triangles. She distributed the carved game pieces—flat circles and crescents, representing suns and moons. “Birthday girl goes first.”

  Zeisha slid one of her pieces from one spot to another. Nora did the same. They quickly got into a rhythm. They’d both just learned the trog game, but it had simple rules, making it easy to talk while playing. Zeisha used a moon to skip over one of Nora’s suns. She flipped her opponent’s piece over, rendering it temporarily immobile. “Now that we have a few minutes alone,” she said, “I want to know what’s going on with you and Ovrun.”

  Nora countered with a move that trapped several of Zeisha’s pieces in a corner. “He’s a very, very nice guy.” The corner of her lip twitched. “If he were just better looking, I might even be interested in him.”

  Zeisha burst out laughing. Her attraction to Krey never wavered, but Ovrun was the most objectively gorgeous human she’d ever seen.

  Grinning, Nora said, “Your move.”

  Zeisha ignored the game and leaned forward. “I won’t pressure you to talk about it, but I think sometimes it helps to be honest with another girl.” The statement caused her a twinge of guilt. She wasn’t being totally honest with Nora . . . but Krey’s secrets weren’t hers to tell.

  Nora sobered. “He’s . . .” She sucked in a deep breath and groaned. “He’s too hot for his own good. Or maybe too hot for my own good. If he were a jerk, it would make things a whole lot easier, but he’s not. He’s a genuinely good guy. We like each other a lot.”

  “But . . .?” Zeisha prompted.

  “But he’s focused on the future. We’re trying to live in the present, but he keeps worrying about what comes next.”

  “What do you think comes next?”

  Nora shrugged and laughed, though she sounded more frustrated than amused. “That’s the difference between him and me. I’d rather not consider that question at all.”

  Zeisha made a move, then returned her attention to Nora. “You’ll figure it out, you know.”

  “I hope so.” Nora skipped over one of Zeisha’s pieces. “Your turn.”

  Zeisha moved, though she didn’t know this game well enough to tell if she was winning or losing.

  Nora chuckled. “I just realized, I said, ‘Your turn,’ and you thought I meant the game.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. Your turn for girl talk. How are things with Krey?”

  Now that was a loaded question. Zeisha’s mind latched onto the secrets she couldn’t share. Krey’s lie. His plans. Her uncertainty.

  Nora saved her by speaking again. “I know you’ve chosen to fight when the army attacks. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.”

  Zeisha tried not to make her exhale too obvious. Now this, I ca
n talk about. “It’s a relief, in a way. To have made the decision.”

  “Is it? A relief?”

  “Yeah.” Zeisha took in Nora’s narrowed eyes. “I mean, it’s scary too. Of course.”

  “We’re all scared.” Nora’s smile was gentle. “But you—well, I was surprised. You didn’t want to fight. Why did you change your mind?”

  Zeisha looked down at the board, then realized it wasn’t her turn. She gazed at her hands, like she’d find an explanation there. At last, she lifted her eyes. “I’m not sure. It felt like the right thing to do.”

  Nora made a move that didn’t change the game much. Attention still on the board, she asked, “Did you change your mind because Krey wanted you to?”

  “No!” The nearly empty room seemed to amplify the single word. “No, of course not. He wouldn’t push me into fighting. I know you haven’t known him that long, but . . . well, Krey has strong opinions, but he doesn’t try to control me.”

  Nora’s hand covered Zeisha’s. Their eyes met again. “I know Krey’s not a jerk. Most of the time.” Her grin softened the statement. “I respect him. I also know his opinions outnumber the hairs on his head. And he never hesitates to share them. Am I on the right track here?”

  Zeisha nodded. All strategy forgotten, she used her free hand to move a random piece.

  Nora squeezed Zeisha’s hand, then let go. “Think about this from my perspective. You insisted you wouldn’t fight. Krey obviously hoped you would. You changed your mind. Doesn’t it make sense that I’d wonder if he had anything to do with that decision?”

  The question squeezed Zeisha’s lungs. A sheen of moisture invaded both eyes. What’s wrong with me?

  “Want some juice?” Nora pointed at a table that held a pitcher and several cups.

  Zeisha pushed herself into a standing position. “Yes—thanks.” As she followed Nora, she filled her chest with cool air and slowly blew it out.