Whispers of Heaven (Saga of the Rose Book 1)

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Whispers of Heaven (Saga of the Rose Book 1) Page 28

by Krista Rose


  I eyed the man. He had an unpleasant, sallow cast to his skin, and his eyes were sharp and cruel. He managed somehow to look down his nose at me, though he barely came up to my chest. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” His voice was a grating, nasal whine, and I struggled against the urge to wince.

  Chanach nodded, dismissing us, and we wandered toward the baths, more or less in step with each other. Awkward silence stretched between us, and I tried not to squirm.

  A hand descended onto my shoulder, and I turned, surprisingly relieved to see Elias. He raised a brow at Baedon. “Is this maggot bothering you, cousin?”

  Baedon straightened. “I happen to be his new partner.”

  Elias rolled his eyes. “You’re only his partner because he hasn’t been here long enough to request a new one. Don’t worry, you’ll be back to being Chanach’s messenger boy before the month is out.”

  “You can’t talk to me like that.” His hands fisted at his sides, and he looked at me for support. “You’re my partner. Tell him he can’t talk to me like that.”

  I wished fervently that I were anywhere else. “Elias…”

  Elias held up his hands. “Alright.” Then he grinned, his eyes wicked. “So, Baedon, is your mother still coming to visit next month?”

  The shorter man glared, his face reddening, and stomped away toward the baths without a word. I stared after him, then looked back at my cousin curiously.

  “Baedon’s mother is a widow, with a… questionable… taste in men.” His eyes were bright and amused. “He’s never completely forgiven me after the last time she came to visit.”

  “You-” I glanced after my new partner. “You slept with his mother?”

  “No, of course not.” He shuddered, then laughed. “Could you imagine? I just let old Bae think I did. She got roaring drunk in the tavern, and I took her to the inn. Baedon caught me letting myself out of her room after she’d passed out.” He shook his head. “Woman snores like seven thunders.”

  “Ah.”

  His look was sympathetic. “I would have warned you, for what little good it would have done, but I didn’t know you were signing up.”

  “Warned me?”

  “About Baedon. Chanach always foists the weasel off on the new guy. He’s a two-faced little rat, and if you even think about making a mistake he’ll run to Chanach crying about it. He’s also an insufferable coward, and terrible with a sword.”

  “If he’s that bad, then why does he remain in the guard?”

  “Politics.” Elias gave me a pained look. “He’s the Captain’s nephew, unfortunately, though even he can’t stand him. But Chanach apparently gave his sister his word that he’d turn Baedon into a man somehow, so he keeps punishing the rest of us with him. So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ve dealt with worse.”

  He glanced at my face, thoughtful. “You know, I actually believe you have.” He put a hand on my arm, drawing me to a stop in the middle of the market. He glanced around, but other than the few vendors who remained open, hopeful in the twilight, the square was nearly empty. His face was serious as he looked back at me, and his voice was quiet when he spoke. “Look, Chanach’s put you on nightshift, and Baedon’s not the kind to have your back if something happens. So be twice as careful, alright?”

  I raised a brow. “Why?”

  He glanced around again. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. Public panic, you understand. But people have been disappearing at night. And, sometimes, we find what’s left of them.”

  “What are you saying? That people are just disappearing, and no one’s noticed?”

  “It’s only once or twice a month, usually when there’s no moon.” His voice dropped to a conspirator’s whisper, and I had to strain to hear him. “Two months ago, a man named Jenek was found in an alley off Yllwen Street, his head almost ripped clean off. It was all we could do to identify him. Chanach decided it was better to let everyone think he’d run off rather than admit there’s a killer on the loose and we can’t find him.”

  My mouth tasted of blood, and I realized I’d bitten through my cheek. White eyes, glowing, burning into me, filled with hunger- “Do you know what- who- it is? The thing killing these people?”

  “No idea.” He shrugged. “Probably some sick sonofabitch hiding in town like a normal person, and killing people when they think no one’s looking. I hear it happens all the time in Val Estus. But if you see anything, you should tell Chanach.”

  I had killed the thing stalking my sister- did that mean Fallor was free of this monster? I didn’t know. What I did know was I was not telling Chanach about it my first day in the guard. It would lead to too many questions, and I was determined to hide my fire until I could control it better.

  Elias was looking at me strangely, and I wondered if he had read my thoughts on my face. But he said nothing, and merely gestured. “Come on. I think we’ve given Baedon enough of a head start that he shouldn’t ruin our bath. Besides, I really need a massage. Did you know there were three brawls in the tavern last night? Three!”

  He continued to chatter as I followed, though I scarcely heard him as attendants stepped forward to escort us inside. My mind was racing, and I reached out impulsively to Kryssa.

  She responded immediately. Yes, dear heart?

  I told her what I had learned.

  She listened, quiet as she pondered what I had told her. I will go to the library again tomorrow. Hopefully, I can find out more. In the meantime, please be careful. And I will tell the others not to wander around alone at night.

  I nodded, forgetting that she couldn’t see me. Thank you, Kryssa.

  Be safe, dear heart.

  I relaxed as she retreated from my thoughts, calmer for having shared my worries with her, and joined Elias in the water.

  LANYA

  16 Driel 578A.F.

  I spent my first week in Fallor cleaning Hamar’s shop, scrubbing away years of dust and neglect until every bottle, window, and surface fair gleamed with polish. When I finished, Hamar set me to organizing the storeroom, which was such a daunting task that I almost gave up before I’d begun. It wasn’t because I was trapped in a cramped, windowless room, nor even that I did not recognize most of the exotic herbs and powders within it.

  It was simply because his penmanship was so poor that I despaired of ever being able to translate it.

  I was forced at last to borrow one of his heavy books on ingredients, pouring through the pages until I discovered what was in each bottle, and then relabeling it. It would have been easier if he hadn’t simply placed the bottles at random on the shelves, poisonous powdered nightshade lurking beside medicines for colic and arthritis, syrups for lung-rot sitting side-by-side with pesticides for cabbage-worms. I spent long hours with an aching head and straining eyes, struggling to memorize everything in his stock and making detailed lists of his inventory, wondering how he had managed to never accidentally murder any of his patients.

  All in all, it was a long, arduous, thankless task, and took me days to finish.

  I talked Alyxen into repainting the sign above the shop. Though Hamar grumbled about the cost, he paid my brother fairly for the work, and I smiled as I gazed at it. With the windows cleaned and careful displays set in them, the apothecary no longer looked abandoned. Hamar rolled his eyes at my enthusiasm, but he did not complain, and all my hard work paid off when the shop saw more business that day than it had the entire month before.

  Hamar rewarded me by paying me extra on Firesday and giving me not only Starsday off, but all of Sunsday as well. I took the coin to the market and spent it all, cheerfully crossing items from the list I’d made our first day. Kryssa sent Alyxen and Reyce to help me cart it all back to the apartment, and they grumbled as they were forced to make multiple trips for the food, the chairs, the table, the heavy bottle of whiskey and the three casks of apple cider I had purchased. I ignored them, clutching the dark fabric I had picked
out for our curtains to my chest, feeling almost giddy as I smiled up at the cloudy afternoon sky.

  Starsday dawned with a wet, miserable rain. I worried that it might prevent Elias from coming to dinner, until Brannyn reassured me that he had asked him about it the day before, and our cousin had said he would arrive around sunset.

  I pushed everyone but Kryssa out of the apartment after breakfast, ignoring their protests about the weather. While Kryssa spent the morning scrubbing floors and washing sheets, I set up our kitchen. I made bread by hand, soft-baked over the coals on a wooden paddle, and prepared a thick soup of vegetables and fresh chicken, liberally flavored with seasonings.

  When the others returned at noon, the apartment was filled with the smells of my cooking, and I was forced to divide my time between watching the soup and driving Alyxen from the kitchen with a ladle to prevent him from eating it.

  In mid-afternoon, Kryssa dragged everyone outside again, and we trudged off to the baths. I took mine hurriedly, worried about leaving the soup for too long, and rushed back to the apartment in time to meet Elias at the door.

  “Elias.” I gulped, suddenly nervous. “You’re early.”

  “That’s what Mother’s always said.” He grinned, and offered me a bottle. “Valorian red. For dinner.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” I clutched it, abruptly aware of my damp hair and rain-soaked clothing. I stared at him, my mind terrifyingly blank.

  “So… can I come in?” he asked after several moments of awkward silence.

  “What? Oh, yes. Of course.” Stop being an idiot, I scolded myself as I opened the door.

  Elias took a deep breath as he stepped inside, his eyes warming. “It smells amazing in here.”

  “Thank you.” I shook my head, finally remembering my manners. “May I take your cloak?”

  He shrugged out of it, looking around curiously. He noted the pallets on the floors of the bedrooms, but made no comment about them. “Is Eloise downstairs?”

  “I imagine so.” I moved to the fireplace and hung up his cloak before checking on the soup. “Why?”

  “I thought I might ask her to join us, if that’s alright.” His tone was casual, but he radiated nerves.

  I glanced at him, surprised, then bit my lip to hide my smile. “Yes, of course. I made plenty.”

  He grinned at me, relieved, and headed down the stairs toward Eloise’s shop. I watched him go, amused, before turning back to the soup, listening with half an ear as he flirted shamelessly with the shy shopkeeper, bullying her into closing up for the day. The others arrived while she was stammering, their loud voices drowning out her weak excuses.

  I turned as Alyxen walked into the kitchen, raising my ladle half-threateningly. His hand was on his face, and blood gushed from between his fingers, dripping on the clean floor.

  I gasped and grabbed a rag, rushing to his side. “Naitre’s mercy, what happened?”

  “He was being an idiot,” Kylee answered for him, sauntering into the room to lean against a wall.

  I pushed him into a chair. “Idiocy causes bleeding?” I peeled his hands from his face, relieved when I saw his nose was swollen but not broken.

  Kylee smirked. “It does now.”

  I scowled at her as I tilted Alyxen’s head back and gently pressed the rag to his nose. “We have guests, Kylee. What were you thinking?”

  “Yeah, Kylee,” Alyxen echoed nasally. “What were you thinking?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, now I’m thinking I should have hit you harder.”

  Kryssa walked into the room, her brow raised, though her expression remained serene. “That doesn’t sound like an apology, Kylee.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t.”

  Alyxen tried to move his head, and I held him still. “Can I kill her, Kryssa?”

  “No.”

  “Just a little bit?”

  “Still no.” She walked to the fireplace to check on the soup. “Kylee, since you’re feeling so feisty today, you can set the table.” She glanced at me. “When do you think Elias will get here?”

  “He’s downstairs.” I placed Alyxen’s hand on the rag to hold it in place, then looked down at my dress, now speckled with his blood. “I need to change. And Eloise is joining us for dinner.”

  “I have to fetch Brannyn. Reyce!”

  He stuck his head around the corner. “Yes?”

  “Stir this for me, please.”

  He took her place.

  I fell into step beside her as she walked toward the back of the apartment. I wanted to rush, to change before Elias returned upstairs, but the annoyance radiating from her made me curious. “Where is Brannyn?”

  She made a disgusted noise. “Flirting.”

  Beneath her frustration, I could sense the ache, and knew without looking that she was thinking of Vitric. He’s still grieving over Marla, I reminded her gently.

  I know. But drowning his sorrows in another girl won’t help him heal.

  No, but it will help him forget. It hurts too much to heal right now.

  She sighed, and left the apartment without another word. I went into my room and changed, putting my dress in the cold water of the wash basin to soak.

  Elias was standing in our great room when I returned, his face alight with triumph. Eloise stood next to him, blushing furiously, looking uncertain and overwhelmed as he prodded her toward the table.

  I checked on Alyxen’s nose. One of his eyes was starting to blacken, but the bleeding had stopped. I glanced down at his tunic and sighed. “Go change. And leave your clothes in the wash basin to soak.”

  Elias watched him leave the room, his eyes curious. “What happened?”

  I shrugged. “Apparently bleeding is a new symptom of idiocy.”

  “Really? Well, that should make drills more interesting tomorrow.” He pulled out a chair at the table for Eloise, urging her to sit. She did, mumbling her thanks and trying her best to become invisible.

  Kylee finished setting the table as Kryssa rejoined us, her brows drawn together in irritation. Brannyn swaggered in behind her, grinning and unaffected by her mood. He greeted Elias warmly, and I made introductions for those he had yet to meet. He smiled charmingly before sitting as Kryssa and I ladled steaming soup into bowls.

  When everyone had been served, we sat, and Kryssa looked around the table. “Who will say the blessing?”

  “I will,” Brannyn offered, and we closed our eyes as he began to pray. “Dear Gods and Goddesses of my Faith, we thank you for this and all our blessings. We thank you for Elias, for Eloise, for Fallor and our time here. Most of all we thank you for Naitre, most gracious Goddess, who grants us love.”

  “So mote it be,” we murmured, and opened our eyes.

  Spoons rattled. Elias took a bite, then moaned. “Dear Gods. This is fantastic.”

  “Thank Lanya.” Kryssa passed Alyxen the plate of sliced bread. “She made it.”

  He grinned at me. “Pretty and talented.”

  I flushed. Somehow I had ended up between him and Kryssa. “Thank you.”

  “You should thank Kryssa for not cooking,” Brannyn joked. “She burned water once.”

  “I did not. The pot caught fire on the outside, because someone didn’t clean it well enough.”

  “So you’ve said.” He rolled his eyes. “A lot.”

  “I’m sure she has other talents,” Elias interrupted smoothly. “She’s a Rose, after all. We’re all marvelously talented.”

  Brannyn snorted.

  “How about it, Kryssa?” Elias continued, ignoring him. His eyes were warm and friendly. “What secret talent do you possess?”

  “She can read minds,” Reyce piped up, then withered when we all glared at him. “I mean- um-”

  “You can read minds?” Elias leaned forward. “Do it. Tell me what I’m thinking.”

  She raised a brow. “You already know what you’re thinking.”

  “Then tell them. Come on. I’ll give you a hint. It’s a number between-”

/>   “Seventeen.”

  He gaped, his eyes going wide. “You can- you really can-”

  “If you want to make it more difficult, try not shouting it at me. Keep it hidden, like what happened at Goodman Jensen’s fishing pond when you were fifteen.”

  Eloise choked, and Brannyn had to slap her on the back until she could breathe again. Her face was nearly as red as Elias’.

  I pretended to cough to hide my grin.

  Kryssa calmly returned to her soup. I checked her emotions carefully, but sensed no relapse in her madness. I began to wonder exactly what had caused it in the first place. Did it only appear when she attacked?

  “Well,” Elias managed finally, “that’s… unsettling.”

  “You did ask,” Brannyn pointed out, smirking.

  “I did. And now I shall ask something else.” He glanced around the table. “Kylee.”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What?”

  “What’s your talent?”

  “She punches people in the face,” Alyxen muttered, and tenderly touched his nose with a wince.

  She shrugged. “You shouldn’t try to tell me what to do. If I want to wear a dress, I will.”

  Elias blinked. “You punched him in the face for telling you to wear a dress?”

  “Of course not. That would be stupid. I punched him in the face for saying I looked like a nine-year-old boy in need of a haircut.”

  I groaned. “Alyxen…”

  He grinned. “It was worth it.”

  “As far as talents go,” Kryssa interrupted, trying to prevent another argument, “Alyxen is our storyteller. When he’s not insulting his sister, anyway.”

  “I love stories.” Elias smiled. “So does Eloise. Don’t you, darling?”

  She ducked her head and mumbled something.

  “See? She wants to hear one, too.”

  “Well, I did just hear a new one while we were in the Temple of Vanae-”

 

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