by Meagan Hurst
“Well, for the most part,” Midestol admitted as his eyes moved back to Kitra. “Of course, depending on how she reacts to this event, those meetings may never occur again. I am not pleased with that possibility.”
“You’re making a mistake, Crilyne,” Kitra told the Shade, ignoring Midestol, which was always a bad idea. “Z trusts you; she will not accept this kind of a betrayal.”
“If she trusted me, she would have stayed away from the Dragon.”
“Seriously?!” Kitra shrieked and for the first time Z saw her struggle against her bonds. Since they were magic, they cut fast and deep into her wrists and ankles. “You’re doing this because Zimliya is with a Dragon?!”
“That particular Dragon is a danger. Have you forgotten everything—?”
“You do realize you are a Shade? Why does it matter to you? She was never going to be a Shade.”
“It matters,” Crilyne spat, surprising Z with the level of emotion he showed. “And I have no interest in telling you why. Not to mention, it is past time Zimliya played an immortal game. No one else is willing to start one, so the task falls to me. And I intend for this lesson to be memorable.” Kitra’s eyes widened in horror for a second before they narrowed and moved to Midestol. Midestol met Kitra’s glance for a minute before he returned his eyes to the Shade.
“Nivaradros is safe,” Midestol countered at Crilyne. “Though even I tried to steer Ksiria away from him. But as you refuse to see it, I find it works in my favor. You are, after all, assisting me. You did bring me quite the present.” Once more he turned to Kitra, but this time it was not to just give her a glance. He started his torture, and Z felt a small amount of twisted pride swell at how well Kitra resisted.
And throughout it all, Crilyne stayed. Throughout Kitra’s torture and her weakening condition he didn’t speak up, flinch, or react at all. Z didn’t expect him to, but since he knew Kitra far better than the Dragon did, and far better than most of her other immortal allies, she wished he had reacted to Kitra’s suffering in some way. Wished more that he had never betrayed Kitra’s trust, or her own trust. Grinding her teeth together, she let the rest of the recording fall from her fingers. She should have finished watching it, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t certain she would ever be able to.
~*~
The door unsealed thirty minutes later. Nivaradros was the first through. The second, however, was Sabaias. As there was only one set of remains in the room, it wasn’t hard for the Nialtian to grasp what had happened. His eyes went to hers and she saw a flash of pain before the anger emerged. There was a reason her second rule was ‘Don’t get attached,’ but she hadn’t foreseen the need to apply it to anyone else. The question was how long would it take for Sabaias to adjust to his loss, and would it be something she could use or something that could be used against her?
Nivaradros’s eyes, however, remained on hers even after Aliassya had entered the room with a group of other Rangers and began yelling at her for Kitra’s demise. It wasn’t, as far as Z was concerned, anything new. Aliassya had never liked her, but when Kitra had taken over her full guardianship, Aliassya had been furious. Aliassya hadn’t spoken publicly of her dislike, but Z had always known it existed. With Kitra’s death, Aliassya’s hatred would only double. Z knew Aliassya would take Kitra’s death just as hard as she had taken the death of Nivo, her father, and Z was also aware Aliassya would blame her even though Midestol had killed both Kitra and Nivo. Then again, Midestol had only targeted them because of their connection to her.
As questions continued to be thrown her way, Z sighed and began answering them as best she could. She didn’t tell them about Crilyne. She did, however, confirm Kitra had left her a message. Her refusal to turn over the recollection caused some concern—Aliassya had to be seized by one of their fellow council members—but in the end, they let it stand. They knew her well enough to know she was digesting something, and she couldn’t release the information to them until she had finished. The majority of the Rangers trusted her enough to give her that time.
She agreed to stay for the funeral. Since Kitra’s remains had been reduced to nothing more than fine ash, it the funeral would be more ceremonial than most, but this time she couldn’t just walk away. Making plans with the rest of the Council—minus Aliassya—Z participated in the difficult task of making arrangements for Kitra’s funeral, and she insisted on personally paying for all of it. No one argued, but she felt their desire to. As she had been Kitra’s charge and was the de la Nepioa, they had no way to counter her. Once everything had been decided upon, Z left the room with speed, taking both Sabaias and Nivaradros with her.
“Do you want to discuss what happened?” Nivaradros asked in an undertone once they were on the way to her house, a house she had been in twice for periods that might have topped three days.
“Not yet,” she said, cutting him off without meaning to. “Sabaias, what are you doing here?” she inquired as she glanced at the immortal heir beside her. “And why did you travel alone?”
“I took a leaf out of your book: safety in discretion,” the Nialtian told her in a manner that alerted her to possible danger down the road. “The Mithane contacted Zyrhis to let him know you were going to be indisposed for an unknown amount of time. Zyrhis—knowing you as well as he does—grew concerned and pressed the Mithane for further information. He enlightened us that it was not you who had been wounded, but…Kitra was well liked, Z. At least one of us had to be here.”
“And you requested permission to come here on everyone’s behalf?”
“It is well known Kitra and I were close, no one offered an argument. Since Midestol is, according to all information, nowhere nearby, even my father deemed it safe enough for me to come alone. Plus, with you here and the Dragon, Midestol would have to be insane to make an attempt to attack. Not that he can find or breach it.”
“Then how did you get in?”
“Oh, that. I let the Rangers arrest me.”
“I consider it a miracle you are still alive, and I am not referring to just this latest move of yours,” she muttered as she shoved them both into her house.
Chapter 18
“Do you want to discuss what happened in that room now?” Nivaradros asked hours later as he settled on the floor of the entrance room with her. She had been sitting here since she had shoved her allies into her house, and this was pretty much the only place he could talk to her.
“Not particularly. Especially since I will be called to the Council in a few hours to explain it again.” Closing her eyes and leaning back, Z let her head rest against the wall. She felt almost numb. Crilyne had betrayed her, and his actions had created a scar she wasn’t ready to acknowledge; only in part because she didn’t want to. If she let it be known that Crilyne had been involved, the Shade would be attacked from all sides. Since no one but she knew how to kill him, it would just be power thrown around until, best case scenario, thousands would die and Crilyne would be drained of his power. In the worst case, thousands would die, Crilyne would lose his power, and the world would be destroyed. For the moment, she had little in the way of options.
“They cannot blame this on you,” Nivaradros breathed. “Z—Zimliya—this was not your fault.”
“You would be surprised how unreasonable people can be when they want to,” was her tired answer. “Particularly when evidence indicates I made a mistake. I should have sensed that spell before sending you out of the room. Since I did not, it is considered an oversight—or worse a deliberate move on my behalf—and therefore it is my fault.”
“It is not your fault,” another voice interjected. And it was a harsh voice.
Z glanced up in surprise and saw Sabaias leaning against the doorway that led into the dining room. “Is it not?” she asked—holding his eyes with hers, seeing the grief and pain deep within them. Emotions she could so rarely experience. Emotions she wished she could feel more readily.
Blue was the color of loss, and it was a deep blue that the Nialti
an eyes had taken. “No, Z, it is not,” he told her. “May I join you?” he asked of both her and the Dragon. Upon receiving two nods, the Nialtian slid with ease down the side of the wall to sit beside her. “This has nothing to do with you and Midestol being blood-relatives. This is in spite of that. If I was to blame someone, I would blame him—and whoever handed Kitra over to him. She was too good to be captured, Z. Injured, yes, but captured? I find it hard to believe she slipped up that much. She was not, for a mortal, old.”
Damn it to hells if Sabaias started poking around! “It’s not—I’m going to look into it,” she promised as her shoulders slumped. And she was. Oh, she was going to look into it. She was still furious over Crilyne’s betrayal, and she couldn’t approach him until she was in control again. In this case her anger could cripple her.
She considered, for a second, contacting Midestol, which told her she needed to refrain from making any decisions for at least a day. Or two. Glancing at Nivaradros, she inclined her head in response to the narrowing of his eyes.
“Keep in touch, I would like to be apprised of what you find,” Sabaias requested in a controlled tone. He stood then and nodded once to her and once to Nivaradros before heading up her stairs. She heard a door close—with a hint of force—and winced.
“He is not taking this well,” she muttered under her breath. “Not well at all, and I so do not need this on top of everything else that is going on.”
“You should sleep with him,” Nivaradros suggested. Z choked on the breath she had been taking. Just where in the hells had that idea come from?
She just stared at him. Too shocked to be embarrassed. “I beg your pardon?” she forced herself to ask. Her voice was higher than she wanted it to be.
“You heard me.”
“No, I didn’t, because you cannot have just said what I think I heard you say,” she told him as her mind tried to make the words become anything else.
“You should have sex with Sabaias,” Nivaradros repeated. “Probably sooner rather than later,” he added with a frown.
And she continued to stare at him. Of all the things he could have said, that was what he came up with? As he was possessive in general, this change in his demeanor wasn’t something she could grasp. And, he knew her, did he believe she could trust Sabaias enough to be intimate with him even if she wanted to?
“And just why should I consider this…insanity?” she demanded to know.
“Because he’s lonely and upset, and I’m convinced you could help. I am even more certain he has been interested in you since before you and I met—if you met him before you met me,” the Dragon amended.
“I am not going to sleep with Sabaias,” she told him while reining in her temper. “Honestly, Nivaradros! What in the hells is that about?!”
The Dragon offered her a smug smile, but he didn’t elaborate, and he instead leaned over to kiss her. “Just trying to get you out of dwelling on this so deeply.” His eyes were a bright green that warned her before he spoke. “What happened in there, Z?” he pressed. “You’re not off balance, but something isn’t sitting well with you.”
“Just what Sabaias said.” She tried to be evasive. “I am worried about how Kitra got caught.”
“She could have slipped up,” Nivaradros offered with a tone that told her he was trying very hard not to offend her but was trying to help at the same time.
“She didn’t,” Z replied at once.
“You are certain?”
“Yes—no—yes, damn it I am,” Z sputtered.
“How?” Nivaradros pressed. His tone told her he suspected or was already aware that she knew something more.
“Please…” she whispered. If she told him—if he pushed—she didn’t know how he would react. And she feared the outcome of his anger if he decided the Shade was once again a threat to her. Especially because she was starting to believe he was right.
To her astonishment, he didn’t push. By all magic, he had come so far from the Dragon she had first met. He wasn’t happy about it, but he nodded and fell silent—still sitting on the floor beside her. “What will the Council ask of you?”
“They will demand an explanation of what happened, and why I didn’t foresee or prevent it—which I already told you. Next, they will evaluate my state of mind to make sure I haven’t gone rogue. Once that is decided it will be put to vote on whether I can leave. Once that is decided, things will proceed as normal.”
“Unless they believe you have gone rogue, then they will kill you,” Nivaradros inserted with worry in every word.
“I carry my amulet, Nivaradros, they cannot deny that.” She reached to her chest and it appeared in her palm—the power within it causing it to glow. “I am still a Ranger, and as long as the amulet exists, they cannot contest my position as a Ranger. Not even Aliassya can argue that.”
“She does seem to harbor some dislike for you. What exactly caused it?”
“I was dangerous when I came here. Nivo was her father and he was also my original Guardian. Aliassya saw me as a threat to his health since I lashed out at everyone else—”
“But not him?”
“No. Never him. I knew him before everything in Tenia started to go from bad to worse,” she whispered as she recalled the man who had been willing to take her in to his house after breaking her out of Tenia’s dungeons. She wished she had been capable of returning even thirty percent of the affection and care the man had shown her, but it had been impossible for her to express fondness then and it was still out of her reach for the moment. Well, to anyone who wasn’t Nivaradros. “He worked so hard to just coax me into the Ranger city, and then into his house. I had already killed a Ranger and I was out of control. Everything seemed like a threat and I couldn’t trust my own judgment.”
“You trusted him?”
“Yes, even in my darkest moments I knew he was not a danger. I overheard the arguments that went on in his study for days after I arrived. They wanted him to turn me over, he refused. Aliassya wanted him to turn me over—he refused even her. If I had to guess, it was that argument that turned her against me. She believed he had chosen me over his own daughter.”
“And his death? You said you didn’t attend his funeral.”
“I wasn’t around,” Z said around a tight throat. “I was…injured and was in the midst of recovering from a skirmish that had happened the day Nivo was attacked while he was traveling. I got the news, but I couldn’t make it back—I didn’t want to—and Crilyne was searching for me, so I needed my space. I’ve never regretted my choice, Nivaradros, but Aliassya saw my refusal to come as an insult to Nivo. Kitra had to argue on my behalf for days before the Council agreed to let the matter lie.”
The Dragon frowned, but as he opened his mouth to continue the conversation, Z felt her amulet awaken. Even Nivaradros knew what that meant. He kissed her before she could stand.
“Be careful,” he told her. “Tell them I will burn this city to the ground if they do not listen.”
“Don’t threaten the Rangers,” she chided. “It will only make things worse.”
Standing, she sighed and debated about how she should address her people. Glancing back at Nivaradros, she offered him a smile and then slipped out the front door. She had no idea how things would go this time—she feared she would be on the receiving end of the blame. Worse was the possibility they would find that because of her long absence, part of the blame lay on her. With Kitra dead, Z had very, very few true allies among the Rangers; most of them simply appreciated her skills.
Upon reaching the Council room, she hesitated at the door and glanced to the left. There, on the wall in shiny new letters, was Kitra’s name. It stung more than she would have expected it to. Emblazoned on the wall were all the names of Council members who had fallen as a ranking Ranger, and though Z had known three others to fall since she’d been a Ranger, none of the previous deaths had caused this much pain. She was definitely becoming soft, and she found she didn’t care. For once, she did
n’t even consider who was watching her. Putting her hand over Kitra’s recently engraved name, she bowed her head and sent out a touch of power. Pulling her hand back she glanced at her work. The name would always shine as though it was newly engraved, Kitra deserved no less.
Turning away from the plaque, she glanced at the doors and waited until they swung inward. She felt the resonation of power that signified the doors both knew and welcomed her—and considering how the day was likely to go she took it as the small gift it was. The hall she had to walk through was both cool and unwelcoming, but it was meant to be. The Rangers had realized that they had needed a city with a ‘castle-like’ building in it to gain the respect of the immortals and mortals they might occasionally host. This building was the result. It was stone, and the Rangers had refrained from decorating even the smallest of areas; this place was meant to be their version of a war room.
Though her people had had kingdoms before, that had been millenniums prior to this. Now they made do with their hidden civilizations and brought only those they had to inside. Her goal had been—and still was—to be able to return the Rangers to the world, but so far, she had not gained the support she needed to achieve that goal. But she was getting closer. If this event hadn’t set her people against her.
The hall led to two large doors that were engraved with steel. The Rangers didn’t enjoy or like the usual displays of power, but in an effort to make their ‘castle’ more impressive, they had conceded to do some interior decorating; the doors were one attempt at this. With a solid push on each door, Z strolled through them the minute she could without getting hit. Six of the nine Council chairs were already filled—the eighth chair with its emptiness hit her hard. The loss of Kitra was something she wanted to downplay, but the reality of it was painful. And while she was here, alone in her thoughts, she felt safe enough to face that pain.
If a room could be made to make those in power feel more significant over those they considered beneath them, this room was not it. If your goal was the opposite, then this room fit just fine. The official seating number was fifty-thousand, but that wasn’t the number present, and as Z wasn’t required to explain her actions to the general population—in theory, not practice—she didn’t care how many people were here. No, the design of the room was what caught her attention as it always did. All exits and entrances were at the top—the members who made up the Council, however, were located at the bottom. It was a sharp display of how Rangers viewed their council members; important enough to be separated from the rest of the population but loathed enough for statements to be made about their power, or lack thereof. Z always felt inferior and small when she took her seat, no matter how full the room was. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stepped onto the platform and began to head to her chair—the one that was at the end of the line.