He nodded slightly in agreement.
“Oh, I see.” Her expression became sympathetic. “Because of the foundling spirits?”
I arched a brow. “The what?”
“You know, the ones from the final battle? When he destroyed the god stone?” She looked at Jaevid like she was hoping he might back her up.
He just stared back at her, frosty blue eyes wide. He still couldn’t speak until she’d finished doctoring his lip.
“You really don’t remember, do you?” She smeared a bit of healing salve over the place where it had split and then gingerly reached out to take his arm. “May I?”
Jaevid blinked as he allowed her to take hold of his arm, unlace the vambrace there, and roll back his sleeve. On the inside of his forearm, covered by a grimy old bandage, was a mark. It looked almost like a brand, or tattoo, of swirling black designs that went from his wrist almost to his elbow. The instant I saw it, I got a strange feeling like pins and needles under my skin. There was something odd about that mark, almost as though it had an aura all its own.
“I only heard this tale once, from one of the old storytellers who used to sit in the market square. My mother said it might not be true. Foundling spirits can be unpredictable and treacherous. They’re almost as old as the gods and have incredible power.” She brushed her fingers over his arm. Maybe she didn’t mean anything by that, or perhaps she was just mystified by the sight of that design—either way, it was clear that touching him that way made Jaevid even more embarrassed.
I gnawed furiously on the inside of my cheek.
“The story said that you made a bargain with the foundling spirits. They agreed to help you bring the god stone through the dangers of the jungle and protect your loved ones, but at a high price,” she said.
“What price?” I pressed.
“My memories,” Jaevid finished suddenly, clarity dawning on his face. “I remember that. They wanted some of my memories, the ones from my ancestors.”
“Do you think that’s why you can’t remember anything now?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Everything is muddied, like I can’t focus. I’m … ” His voice died away before he could finish.
“Tired?” Enyo guessed with a gentle smile.
He ducked his head as though he were ashamed. “After forty years of doing nothing, is that bad?”
She laughed. “I suppose we can grant a night of sleep. We’ll let it slide, just this once.” She regarded him so warmly, so affectionately, that it made my blood boil.
They went on talking, and I got the feeling I might as well have been invisible. Why did that bug me so much? Why did I even care how she looked at him? Before I could sort it out, Jaevid dismissed himself to go upstairs, wash off, and rest. I’d loaned him my bedroom for as long as he planned to stay here. No way was I putting him in the room with Enyo.
Now that we were alone by the glow of the fire, Enyo let out a deep sigh and slumped back to rest her weight on her palms. “I can’t believe I punched Jaevid.”
I snorted. “What’s the big deal? You’ve hit me plenty of times.”
She shot me a look. “Only when you deserved it.”
“You never bandaged me up after, though. Or looked at me like that.”
Enyo blinked in surprise. “Like how?”
I didn’t want to explain it—it just made me more frustrated. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
She was still staring me down, though. “Reigh, what happened? You disappeared for two days, do you realize that? I didn’t know where to even begin looking for you. And then you come back, out of the blue, with Jaevid Broadfeather?”
I kept my mouth shut.
“Tell me what happened, please. You did this, didn’t you? You awakened Jaevid.”
When I didn’t reply, she touched my arm.
I couldn’t help but look at her then. “It was kind of an accident, okay?”
She looked puzzled. “An accident?”
“I didn’t go there with the intention of waking him up. I know that’s what everyone is going to think now, but that’s not what happened.”
“Where did you go?”
“To the tree, the one at the old temple grounds. I—” my voice caught, and I checked over my shoulder to make sure Jaevid wasn’t anywhere in sight. “I went there to kill that stupid tree, not to bring him back to life. I used my power on it, to make it rot and die. But when it disappeared, I found Jaevid’s tomb. I went down there, you know, just to see if he was there. I didn’t do anything to him, I swear. He looked like a statue, like he was made of stone. So, I just thumped his face a little and the next thing I knew, he woke up.”
“You went there to kill that tree? Why? Why would you do something like that? Especially if you didn’t know you could wake him.” Enyo frowned, her eyes searching mine. “I know you’re upset about Kiran, but that’s no excuse to—”
“It’s not that,” I barked at her. There was so much she didn’t know about me, where I’d come from, and what I was really capable of. If she didn’t prefer Jaevid now, she would after she found out.
“Then what is it?”
I turned away and started to get up. “Nothing.”
She wrenched my arm and yanked me back. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Reigh.”
I took a deep breath. She wanted to know? Fine. “I wanted to destroy that tree because if he had been there, if he’d woken sooner, none of this would have happened. He could have fought at Barrowton. He could have stopped the Tibrans and Kiran would still be—”
I stopped. My expression skewed with pain and I bit down hard to keep it in. “I just wanted to stop everyone from expecting me to fill his shoes somehow. I can’t do that. I’m not like him. I’m not a hero. I’m not even a good person.”
Enyo touched my face. I felt her cool, smooth palms slide over my cheeks as she leaned in to touch her forehead to mine. “You’re stupid sometimes. You’re reckless. You’re ridiculous, too. But I don’t believe that you’re a bad person, Reigh. I’ll never believe that.”
“I murdered him, Enyo. I murdered Kiran,” I rasped. “The king and queen don’t know. They think it was a monster fighting for the Tibrans. And, gods, I might as well have been, right? I killed just as many Maldobarian soldiers as I did Tibrans. I killed my own father!”
She paused as though she were thinking it over, choosing her words carefully. “You lost control. This power you have, while I don’t understand it, I can see that it is strong. It could overtake you again, just like it did that day. You have to be stronger. You can’t let it own you like that ever again. Maybe that’s why Jaevid has come back now—to show you how.”
“That woman. She called me her Harbinger.”
Enyo’s brow creased with concern. “What woman?”
“The one I keep seeing in my dreams,” I replied. “She said her name was Clysiros.”
Recognition flickered over Enyo’s face the instant I spoke that name. Her body tensed, and she held my gaze with wide, fearful eyes.
“You know that name?” I dared to ask. “Do you know who she is?”
Her lips pressed together, and she took a deep breath. “That old storyteller, the one I mentioned before, I used to visit him all the time when I was little. I liked his stories because sometimes he told ones I’d never heard before. He knew things no one else did. The last time I saw him, he told a tale about the ancient gods. It was about how the world began, how the gods of the earth and sky were lonely, so they came together and had two children.
The first they called Paligno, who was the god of life. He filled the dormant world with plants and animals, beautiful things that pleased his parents.” Enyo hesitated, her multihued eyes catching in the light from the fire pit and sparkling like two fiery diamonds. “But the other child was much different. She was the exact opposite of her brother. They called her Clysiros, and her touch brought death to all the things Paligno had crea
ted. The god of the earth was so disgusted by her, he banished her from ever setting foot upon the ground he ruled. But her mother, the goddess of the sky, loved her. She recognized that while death was terrifying to most, it was also necessary. The sky goddess hid Clysiros away in the stars, protecting her there.”
“And?” I asked, breathless.
She shook her head, her mouth scrunching thoughtfully. “I never heard the ending of the story. My mother came in to get me, and when she heard which story he was telling, she immediately took me away. She told me never to utter that name again and never tell anyone what I’d heard. I’d forgotten about that until now, when you said it.”
“But why? Why doesn’t anyone talk about her? Clysiros, I mean.”
“I don’t know. After that, I never saw the storyteller again. I suppose he could have passed away. He was quite old, after all.” She flashed a worried glance up at me.
I was just trying to let that sink in for a second. I’d never heard that before. I wondered if the king or queen had. And Kiran—had he known?
“Reigh,” Enyo whispered. “If it’s true and you are seeing Clysiros, then maybe you are like Jaevid.”
“No,” I snapped. “He’s like Paligno. He heals people, brings life and hope to them.”
She stared up at me silently, a mixture of apprehension and the smallest trace of fear in her eyes. It was as though she didn’t know if she should run or hold perfectly still. Would I hurt her? Would I lose control again?
“I’m the opposite,” I whispered. “I … am the Harbinger of death.”
Even after the house became quiet and still, with Enyo snoozing away in Kiran’s old bed and Jaevid borrowing mine, I couldn’t find any peace for myself. I’d made a pallet on the floor beside the fire pit, but I didn’t expect to be sleeping tonight, anyway. Too much was happening for my mind to relax. Everywhere I looked, I saw memories. Kiran hadn’t been my real father, but he’d been the only parent I’d ever known. He had raised me from an infant. With him gone, this place felt so empty. Part of me kept hoping that somehow, some way, he’d come striding through the door with that signature scowl on his face and start lecturing me for being so reckless.
Only I knew that wasn’t possible. He was gone. And regardless of what Enyo said, I knew that was my fault.
Once I was sure everyone else was down for the night, I got up and pulled my boots on. I sat out on the front steps. I soaked in the gentle night sounds of the city. Frogs and insects sang in the tall reeds. Fireflies winked like warm yellow spots against the jungle. The rumbling whoosh of the magnificent waterfalls pouring down the steep cliffs behind the palace was constant. Everything was so familiar. It made all that chaos, blood, and agony in Maldobar seem like a faraway nightmare that I could easily ignore. I didn’t have to go back. It wasn’t my fight. I never should have gotten involved in the first place.
Except I knew better than to think the Tibrans wouldn’t come here, too. I’d seen their brutality with my own eyes now. I knew what they were capable of. Maldobar would fall and then that ruthless Tibran woman who called herself Hilleddi would come looking for me here. She had seen what I could do, she knew I had power, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think she wouldn’t tell their leader, Argonox, about me. I was a threat they couldn’t afford to ignore, and Luntharda wasn’t the military powerhouse Maldobar was. The wild jungle and all its natural horrors was our biggest defense. We could run, hide, and use our environment to drag out the inevitable, but eventually … they’d find us. They’d find me.
And what then?
“Then we crush them, eat them, burn them!” Noh’s voice rippled over my brain, making me shudder.
His wispy dark form came slinking out of the gloom like a huge wolf made of licking, flickering black shadows. His glowing red eyes watched me, and his wide canine mouth was smiling with rows of jagged white fangs.
“You know the truth, don’t you?” I growled at him under my breath. “Am I really Clysiros’s ‘chosen one’ like Jaevid is for Paligno?”
The mention of her name made his form ripple like a reflection on a pond. When he didn’t answer I let out a sarcastic snort.
“And what does that make you? My nasty little sidekick? A perk of being some sort of death-dealing monster?”
He still didn’t answer as his shadowy form came striding closer, sitting back on his wolfish haunches and studying me with ominous, flickering red eyes.
“If that’s the case, then you might as well move on to someone else. I meant what I said to Clysiros at that tree. I’m done. I won’t use my power again. I’m staying here and running the medical clinic. I’m not fighting any more battles or wars. I don’t want anything to do with it.” I scowled down at the tops of my boots. “Besides, with Jaevid here now, they won’t need me anyway. I’m sure he can handle it.”
“And if he fails?”
His reply made me look up again. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jaevid’s fought in battles before. He’s trained for it. He was a soldier, a legitimate dragonrider, for crying out loud. I’m nothing like that.”
Before me, Noh’s form rippled and changed. It moved with fluidity like smoke on the wind, blurring and reforming into another shape—one I’d seen him take before. He looked exactly like me. Well, a darker, shadowy, red-eyed version of me. His skin was a dark, charcoal gray color and his hair as black as night. When he smiled, I could see that his incisors were pointed.
“And yet, in us, he has met his match.” Noh sounded deliciously confident.
I narrowed my eyes. “Who are you—really?”
He stretched out one of his shadowy hands toward me, fingers spread wide. “I am you,” he replied. “You are me. We are one. Two souls, two minds, one body. That is the mark of the Harbinger.”
I didn’t understand. Mark? What mark? No one had ever mentioned anything like that to me.
Even as the doubts sparked in my brain, I couldn’t ignore a strange pull toward him—like a hook lodged deep in my gut. It tugged at something, a sensation I couldn’t explain. I had the uncontrollable urge to put my hand against his, just to see if it really was the exact same size as mine.
But before I could move, a commotion from the jungle broke my concentration. Overhead, the glimmer off translucent wings caught in the moonlight. A single shrike came streaking out of the jungle, passing right above our street. It was alone and flying high, bearing a rider headed straight for the palace at an urgent speed.
“News from the battlefront, no doubt.” Noh’s form flickered with delight. He licked his chops hungrily.
“Something else has happened.”
“They’ll be coming for him,” Noh hissed in agreement. “Seeking practiced hands to strum the instrument of war.”
“I’m sure.” Frowning, I turned to look back at the front door of the medical clinic—my home, my refuge. “And something tells me they’ll want to make it a duet this time.”
THIRTEEN
Hours—that’s what we had left. The king and queen would soon come knocking, either personally or by sending one of their messengers. It only made sense to let Jaevid enjoy those hours resting. I passed the night sitting at the fire pit, watching the flames dance in the dark, and skimming Kiran’s old medical journals. He’d almost finished translating another one from the human to gray elf languages. It was tedious work, going back and forth between the two languages, and his unique knowledge of the medical practices and terms in both kingdoms was unique.
I got to the end of the final page he’d translated and stopped, running my fingers over the heavy parchment pages. There was still a lot left to go in this journal—a lot of work left unfinished. He’d stopped mid-sentence. And while I could probably read the rest of it in the human tongue and translate it, it just felt wrong to tack my sloppy handwriting on to the rest of his neat, perfectly-uniform script. I’d spent most of my life right here at his side training to be a medic. Until Enyo, I had been the only apprentice
he’d ever taken on. At least, for any length of time. If he’d been teaching Enyo, then she’d barely had enough time to learn how to properly apply a bandage. I was the only one qualified to run this place now. But considering I was to blame for his absence … would he have even wanted that?
That question stuck in my brain like a thorn, keeping me awake until the sun began to rise. My back was aching along the area where I’d been burned by dragon venom during the battle at Barrowton. Two nights without much sleep was wearing on me. My clothes and hair stank from sweat. I needed a bath.
All I needed was a clean shirt from the spare closet in Kiran’s room. That was it. I’d only intended to go in long enough to grab one, so I could change after I took a quick turn in the washroom. Enyo was still sound asleep in the bed when I crept in. I didn’t want to wake her. But one glance at her made me pause, my body freezing up with a hand on the closet door.
She was curled up on her side with her long, silvery hair spilling over the pillows like bolts of white silk. It made a beautiful contrast to the warm, golden color of her skin. Soft rays of morning light fell over her face, and her eyelids fluttered as though she were dreaming.
Gods, had she always been that beautiful?
The longer I stared, the more an intense squeezing sensation pulled the breath from my lungs and made my heart start to pound. My face grew hot just thinking about how she had smiled and acted so bashful and friendly with Jaevid. It wasn’t fair. I … I didn’t want her to look at him like that.
I took a step closer to the bedside and let my fingertips lightly graze the curve of her cheek.
She’d always been the voice of caution and reason, which I’d deliberately ignored. Nearly every time we’d gotten into trouble, it was because I’d dragged her off somewhere we weren’t supposed to be in the first place to do something we weren’t supposed to be doing. And then I’d left her behind here in Luntharda to chase the idiotic idea of finding my human family somewhere in Maldobar.
Talk about stupid.
Harbinger Page 10
