Dipping the cloth back into the water, Leyna brought it up to her face, failing to wring the moisture out of it. Her body was on fire. She didn’t care about the water soaking into the bodice of her dress, dripping all the way to the waistline of her skirt. It felt good. But only for a moment. Almost as quickly as it had fallen, it dried up against her skin, leaving nothing but the dull damp stain on the front of her dress.
The nap, however brief it was, had done wonders for Feolan. His eyes once again had their usual flare, their soft grey burning into hers defiantly at her continued protests. Leaning forward, he pressed his fingers against Thade’s neck, counting softly to himself for the pulse before stubbornly taking up a position in front of Leyna. “His pulse is normal and his breathing is regular. He will be safe for the short time it will take me to see you back to Zander’s. By horseback, we should be there within the hour.”
Her eyes drifted over her shoulder to gaze at Thade. In her mind, she could still hear that dreadful wheezing noise that had been his breathing. The sudden lifeless pause of his chest. To hear Feolan’s assurances now. His pulse is normal and his breathing is regular. If only he knew! And what if that changed while they were gone? There would be no one to revive him. Why did she have to leave? If only she could stay there, for just a few more hours. A day. Anything at all to make sure he was safe.
“I will find a way to come back and visit in the next few days.” Calmly, she slid her hand around Thade’s. It was cold and clammy to her touch. Heavy. “There is still so much I need to discuss with you both in regards to the changes that will be happening. It will be easier to plan the details when you have had some sleep and when the Consul is healthy again.” Turning to face the bed, she moved her head down lower to Thade’s ear, her balance faltering from the weight of her upper body. “You hear me, Thade? You will get better. You and I both know there is still much I have to tell you before you can go anywhere, and you me. We promised, and I refuse to let either of us out of that agreement.”
As she struggled to straighten her back, she paused, staring down at her and Thade’s clasped hands. For a moment, she thought she felt something. A gentle return of the pressure between them. It was so subtle that it seemed she had imagined it. She must have. With her own eyes she could see he remained motionless on the bed. Sleeping. Unresponsive, the way he had been since she arrived, unaware of her presence there beside him. And yet she was certain she’d felt it. At the very least, it comforted her to believe it. Squeezing his hand a final time, she let her fingers slip away, giving one last somber look over him, pulling the blankets back up.
“Leyna, did you hear me?”
“What?” she asked. Confused. Had he spoken? “I must not have. My head feels a little funny.”
“You look sick. I am worried about leaving you with those people. They will not get you the care you need – especially since I fear the illness was contracted by whatever you did,” Feolan said, his voice filled with concern. “For the first time in hours, his breathing is even; his fever clearly lower than before… and oddly you have acquired those symptoms, quite suddenly.”
“I need air,” she whispered. Feolan knew. She saw no reason to explain anything to him when he had witnessed the light of her energy melded with Thade’s, seeping into her chest while she had laid there on the floor, gasping for breath. He was no stranger to the magic. “Do you have something with a hood I can wear to conceal my face while we ride?”
Feolan waved his hand at the candle, extinguishing the flame with a simple trick. The darkness only added to the cloudiness of her thoughts. Had Feolan not taken her hand in his to guide her from the room, she would have never made it to the door.
Something heavy was placed over her shoulders. A cloak. Her fingers fumbled over it, searching for a hood to pull up over her head. Noticing her trouble, Feolan helped to situate it over her hair, his grey eyes staring deeply into hers. “If I have not heard word from you to tell me of your condition by the time the doctors have arrived in Siscal, I will come find you. Do you understand me?”
“Come find me? Why would you do that?” In the back of her mind, it felt as though it should make more sense than it did at the moment.
“So they can see to your illness as well. I will accept no objections from you, and you will find that I am equally stubborn as you are, when I choose to be.”
She smiled. The room was spinning. If they didn’t get outside soon, she was at risk of losing consciousness, and if that happened – there would be no chance in convincing Feolan to take her back to Zander’s house. “Come,” she replied quietly, stumbling awkwardly toward the door. “Let us get on the road before it gets any later.”
Chapter Fourteen
By the time Feolan helped her through the small window of her room at Zander’s house, the sun was starting to lighten the horizon, heralding the coming of the dawn. All she could think about was the bed and how wonderful it felt to lie down. The sheets were cold against her burning skin, soothing her until her body heat transferred to the fabric.
Feolan had seen to it that she was covered and drifting off to sleep before finding his own way back out the window, closing it behind him. She wished there was some way for her to know if he made it back to Thade safely but her feverish mind was too scattered to focus on those concerns. Occasionally she was aware of someone knocking at her door. Calling out her name. She didn’t recognize them, the sound muffled and hollow in her head. When they received no response from her, they eventually would wander off, returning a short time later. Again, she lacked the energy to reply.
The sun had been high in the sky for hours before she became suddenly aware of the lock on her door moving. The metal scraped against the track as if pulled by some invisible hand, slowly, precisely, falling with a click against the wooden door. She wanted to move, to climb up from the bed, ready to attack if the person intended her harm. But physically she wasn’t capable. Her limbs were like deadweights, holding her down under the thin blankets, at the mercy of whatever came through that door.
She was both relieved and frustrated to see Kael’s face peek through the crack of the door before letting himself in. Her heart and her mind were not strong enough to handle a confrontation with him right now. Whatever he had to say, she wasn’t interested, not caring about any explanations for the terrible things she’d heard. There would be plenty of time when she was healthy and clear-headed to discuss those matters.
“Eleni? Everyone is asking about you. Are you alright?”
Words built up in her mouth to give assurances that she was fine, their form never taking shape on her lips. It took too much effort to speak. Her voice came as a mumbled unintelligible noise from under the blankets.
The mattress sank under the weight of Kael’s body where he sat down next to her. He seemed to not notice the misery on her face. Her skin was paler than normal with dark, sickly circles drooping under her eyes. She could feel the sweat from her fever soaked into the long strands of her hair matted against the side of her face and neck, drenching the pillow under her head. “I came to you last night, to be with you. Can you imagine my surprise when you did not answer the door and upon entering, I discovered you were not even here? Where did you go?”
She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for him. He had come to her? That was just great for him, but she had not been interested in being with him last night. To her, their engagement was the furthest thing from her mind. It all felt like a mistake anyway. “I was not feeling well last night,” she coughed, her voice strained. “Quite frankly, I still feel as though I am dying. In a matter of speaking.”
He seemed to take notice of her, for the first time since entering. His eyes blinked in shock, his hand reaching out to rest over her forehead, checking her temperature. “My god, Eleni. You are burning.” Rising swiftly to his feet, Kael took long strides toward the door, pausing slightly to speak before heading out into the hallway. “I will fetch someone to call for a doctor.”
&n
bsp; Great. A worthless Siscalian physician. They wouldn’t be able to do anything for her. If what she suffered was remotely similar to that of the Consul’s, only the Vor’shai shamans would be of any use. Being seen by them was out of the question. Too much effort to contact them, and even more time wasted in waiting for them to arrive in town to see her. For all she knew, she would be cured by then. It couldn’t possibly have advanced to the severity of the Consul’s illness. She just needed to drink plenty of water and get lots of bed rest.
There was no time for bed rest! They were set to meet with Kyros that evening. She needed to be back on her feet by then. It was imperative that she be present for that meeting, attentive to everything the man had to say so she could properly manipulate him into accepting her business proposition. She couldn’t count on Kael to unknowingly help her the way he had with Oksuva. It was more likely that he would be attempting to gain Kyros’s trust in a similar fashion, knowing his position was precarious in the mission. If he couldn’t gain the trust of Kyros, he would be out of the way completely, useless to their people until another opening presented itself. Given his previous involvement, however, a second chance at weaseling his way into anything would be next to impossible.
It was Zander who reappeared in the doorway, his breathing heavy from running. “What happened?” he asked, reaching her bedside in only a few fluid steps. “Do you think you are having a reaction to something you ate yesterday? What hurts? Your stomach – head – what is it?”
“Zander,” she chuckled. The effort it required to laugh caused her chest to tighten, making it difficult to maintain her breath long enough to continue. “It is my own fault. I do not need a doctor, if you will just help me out of this bed so that I may get dressed. I can tell by the sun’s position in the sky through the window that it is nearly time to meet with Oran’s man.”
“You look like death warmed over. I think it would be unwise to let you go anywhere tonight.”
“I did not ask you what you thought. Now, please – help me up?” Begrudgingly he did as he was told.
Sleep had done wonders for her, in and of itself. The energy inside her still felt scattered and misaligned, but not to the extreme she’d suffered while still at Thade’s home. It had settled throughout her body in strange places, adding to the heaviness her arms and legs experienced. The sickness was more a constant discomfort than the pain and confusion it had been that morning. An improvement. By far.
“What do you think you are doing?” Kael’s voice boomed loudly from the doorway. “I told you to get a doctor. She needs to stay lying down.”
“She insisted I help her to her feet. That is what I am doing. Save your lectures for someone who cares,” Zander grumbled, holding Leyna steady before slowly stepping away, testing to see if she was able to stand on her own. Satisfied that she was managing well with her balance, he made his way over to the tiny closet near the window, retrieving a garment bag from inside it. “I would help to dress her as well, but something tells me that would not be approved of by you. Or have you already made plans to help Oksuva out of her clothes – Oh, into them. I meant into them.”
Kael moved with such speed and ferocity that Leyna wasn’t sure exactly how he covered the distance to Zander, only that he was on him, clutching the front of his shirt angrily. “What are you implying, you imbecile?” he hissed. Zander’s casual, nonchalant expression seemed to add to Kael’s irritation, his grip tightening as he shook him roughly. “Tell me! If your intentions are to insult me, then speak plainly, coward!”
“Only someone with reason to be insulted by my words would be angered by them. I see no reason to justify anything I have said.”
Silently Leyna hoped for Zander to press the issue. She wanted to hear the way Kael would explain himself to someone other than her, without the need of sugar-coating it in hopes of lessening the pain that the truth brought.
His eyes flashed in his fury, their strange coloration sending a shiver through Leyna’s veins. Dull. Shadowed. The gentle green was warped with tones of grey that she’d never noticed there before. “Kael,” she whispered. “Let him go. We have other things we need to do before this meeting. Fighting will only waste what little time we have.”
“Get out!” Kael shouted, pushing Zander toward the door. “We will discuss this later. Don’t think I will forget it.”
Zander smirked, idly straightening his shirt where Kael’s hands had been. “I look forward to it.”
When the door clicked shut behind Zander, Leyna feared she would faint. The change in Kael was disturbing. For years he had been there for her, always thinking of her, never caring about himself. How could a person suddenly become somebody else? Once in a while she would see traces of the old Kael, hidden away inside the mind of this new creature living in his skin. He was in there, somewhere, but she didn’t know how to reach him. The tainted energy was more powerful than she’d given it credit for.
“What kind of lies has he been feeding you?”
“He has said nothing,” she replied. Her legs carried her unsteadily over to where Zander had been standing, the garment bag from his hands having fallen to the floor while Kael had been pushing him around. She came to a stop over it, debating whether or not she should attempt to bend forward to lift it up. The strength the motion required felt somewhat beyond her limits. “Why are you so defensive about a random comment? Do I have need to be concerned about your involvement with Oksuva?”
“I was not the one who was out all night. If anyone should be answering questions right now, it is you,” Kael huffed. “Where were you? And I already know the truth so if I were you, I would think very carefully about how you answer.”
The truth? There was no way he could possibly know where she had gone. “I just went for a walk. Did you follow me?”
“A walk? A walk!” he shouted. “And that walk just happened to lead you to the house of the Consul? Until morning? So which one of them was it? Did you wear him out, causing his assistant to give you a ride back home, or is the Consul not aware of the little fling you have going on with his partner?”
The last of any remaining color in her face drained away. All she could do was stare at him, dumbfounded by his accusations. He accused her of an affair? And with the Consul and Feolan, no less! He, who had himself been unfaithful to her prior to their engagement and kept it hidden from her, was now pointing the finger at her for such adulterous actions.
Unable to maintain her balance, she dropped to her knees next to the garment bag, gazing blankly off into the distance. She didn’t know what to say. No words could describe the feelings boiling up inside her. They increased her heart rate, her blood pressure rising, adding to the fever she already suffered. “You are out of line,” she said through gritted teeth. The room was spinning, but she no longer cared to look at him. The creature standing there with her was not the Kael she had grown to care for over the years. This was nothing but a monster in his flesh. “You make these claims and yet you ignore my questions about Oksuva? Do you honestly believe I do not know about the two of you? That Mikel found you with her? And no, it was not Zander who spoke of it. I heard it from Mikel himself while he was attempting to take advantage of me in order to exact revenge for what you did.”
“He did what?” Grabbing onto Leyna’s arms, Kael lifted her into the air, looking into her eyes as if to determine whether or not she was lying. Speaking of the topic idly in hopes of calling his bluff.
She had to admit it was partially so. There was enough evidence to tell her that it was very possibly the truth, but a part of her hoped he would immediately deny it, assuring her that it was not what had happened and explaining to her, in detail, exactly why Mikel would have said something so outrageous. Instead, there was no immediate denial. Only more anger. “You heard what I said,” she replied quietly, closing her eyes to avoid the blur of the moving room across her vision. “Did you ever plan to tell me about it? Or is that why you refused to hear the things I wished to speak
with you on before I was bound to you? Did you think that if I told my secrets, that you then might tell me about what you did, and that I would deny your proposal? Or did it simply slip your mind?”
“I was drunk! Alright?” He shouted, throwing her back down to the ground at his feet. “We were talking and she offered me some wine and we just kept drinking and the next thing I knew, she was on top of me. I don’t even know what happened before Mikel walked in. In my alcohol warped memory, I have no recollection that we ever did anything beyond kissing.”
“But the fact you were drunk means that you are not required to tell me about it? Does alcohol give you forgiveness if you behave inappropriately behind my back?” Leyna snapped. “If I were to get drunk and kiss another man, would it be overlooked because I had imbibed that wretched liquor?”
“You were not mine yet when it happened! And if I ever find that your lips have been on another man’s mouth, drunk or not, I will kill them. Do you understand me? I don’t care if that man is the Prince himself, I will strike him down. Do you hear?” He was screaming. His breath reeked of some cheap wine, most likely taken from Zander’s cabinet in the kitchen. It explained some of his actions, but in no way did it justify them, or forgive them.
She slapped him, hard, bringing the flat of her right palm against his left cheek. The crisp smack echoed through the tiny unfurnished room. She’d never before lifted a finger against him but she refused to just sit there and take such ridiculousness from him. There was little else she could do in her condition, but it was enough to let him know he had crossed a line.
Wasn’t his when it happened. How dare he! For nearly six years he had courted her so desperately. Had none of it meant anything to him? Was it so easy to throw it all away in a single evening over a few glasses of wine? And with an Esai! Of all people, to have touched a half blood. A woman whom he on many occasions insulted specifically for her heritage and insisted he would never have considered her romantically.
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 45
