Kingdoms of Ether (Kingdoms of Ether Series Book 1)

by Ryan Muree

  “What if the escort doesn’t come in time before the wedding?” Jahree asked.

  Adalai hadn’t thought that far. “Then we’ll get her a dress and pretend she’s a guest with us. I want her on it the second it lands. She needs to be out and ready, and we can sneak her out the back or something. We’ll just watch out for her.”

  Kayson, leaning back against the wall with his eyes shut, groaned. “That’s insane. If something happens—”

  “We’re the best damn team to protect her!” Adalai said. “We’ve kept her from that Avrist guy. We’ve kept her from the REV. She has her Keeper. We can handle a few Ingini.” She turned for Urla.

  Urla nodded.

  “Mykel and Jahree—you’re going into the city today?”

  They looked to one another. “Yes.”

  “Then get Grier and Emeryss something to wear for the wedding, too, just in case. I don’t even want to think about it, but I don’t want to be unprepared. If you see or hear anything not making sense, tell Sonora, and she’ll tell all of us.”

  They didn’t nod or say anything else; they merely walked out.

  They were losing faith in her. She knew she wasn’t the official leader of the Zephyrs, but Urla had supported her and given her freedom to get her feet wet.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. She knew she’d lied to Emeryss, but it wasn’t for much longer. And that’s what separated her from Tully. She could be selfish, too, but she felt bad about it. Tully felt nothing.

  Sure, she was a shit person for doing it, but it was more than Adalai’s job on the line. It was everything she’d worked toward, every tiny bit of anything good she had in her life. She was the RCA, and the RCA was Adalai. There was nothing else. No family. No home.

  Emeryss, however, would get on that ship, and she’d escape again. Grier would help her. Or she’d negotiate what she needed from the Librarian. Emeryss would be fine, and she’d understand why Adalai did this. Maybe. One day.

  She straightened her spine. It didn’t matter. People come and go. It had to happen. No way out. No excuses. Emeryss’s freedom or her life… The choice was simple. Putting Emeryss on that ship was the smartest thing she could do for herself.

  And Emeryss would understand.

  She shook the tension out of her arms.

  Chapter 24

  Spare cabin — Zephyr Airship — Marana

  The bitter tang of metal had filled Emeryss’s mouth. Her eyes were heavy and difficult to open, but where ever she was, it was soft, warm. That was something at least. And though she could smell the metal deep in her nose, there was something else permeating the scent.

  M’ralli paper. Sweat. Grier.

  Her left hand was limp against soft sheets, but her right hand was grasped by something, by someone.

  Blinking to test the brightness of the room around her, she slowly opened her eyes. Metal bars were above her—the bunk. She was in their shared room, and in her hand was… Grier’s.

  His head rested on the mattress beside her thigh. Eyes closed, mouth barely open, he was hunched over her bed frame sleeping. His hair had almost gotten long enough to fall into his eyes.

  She wanted to slip her hand through it, brush the hair from his face. But she couldn’t… She was done wishing.

  Trying to recall the night before, she could only get bits and pieces to come back. The kiss. Her leaving. The air grimoire. She’d messed up somehow. She’d been outside casting, and it had gone very wrong. There was spinning light, the tightening circle, the clamping around her chest. The memory of her scream and the air slicing through her made her shiver.

  Adjusting her back, she strained a little, and Grier jerked up with a gasp, his dark-blue eyes wide and his mouth open. He blinked two or three times at her. “Emeryss?”

  She froze. “I’m okay.” Her voice sounded too soft to be her own.

  His chest rose and fell sharply. “Oh, thank Goddess.” He took the back of her hand and pressed it against his forehead.

  “So, it was that bad?” she asked.

  He looked up at her. “Y-you died.”

  She wasn’t sure how to process that. The Old Mother hadn’t come for her.

  “Urla resuscitated you, and Kayson healed you, and Mykel fixed your suit… And I could do nothing.” He glanced over his shoulder to the corner where his armor rested. Clothes sat in a pile with dark-purple stains.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “My old clothes… and your blood.”

  Her blood? All of those stains were her blood? “You found me and carried me in.”

  “Casting nearly cut you in two…” He ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath. “I was watching you one minute, and everything was fine. The next, you were in a pool of your own blood…”

  She pushed herself up to sit on her elbows. “I lost control of it.” She pulled some strands of her hair away from her face and felt bumpy skin at her cheek—a hard line. Skimming her fingertips across it, it seemed to run from her jaw to her forehead.

  “Kayson said that would take longer to heal. He… ran out of ether.”

  He ran out of ether because she hadn’t been scribing. They’d done everything they could to save her even though she hadn’t been able to keep her end of the bargain. She pulled back the bed sheet she was under. “Let me see.”

  “It’ll go back to normal. Kayson just needs more ether.”

  But she was already up, finding her footing and bending over the sink. And she wouldn’t ask him to fix it if she ever managed to scribe again.

  The scar felt worse than it looked, like a line of pink ether. It wasn’t the prettiest thing, but it wasn’t the worst either. “Do I look tougher with it?” She turned and looked at him.

  Grier’s mouth dropped open before he half-laughed. “That’s what you have to say about it? You nearly died, you’re up out of bed like nothing happened, and you’re asking me if you look tougher?” He shook his head.

  She made her way back to the bed to sit, tongue dry and woozy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Really? You’re okay about it?”

  “Everyone did everything they could to save me. Of course, it’s okay. I—I can never thank any of you enough for that. I’ll spend my life repaying all of you. But…”

  “But?”

  “It’s also proof I did it. I casted.” She licked her lips twice, three times. Still dry. “All this wasn’t for nothing.”

  He filled the cup by the sink with water and handed it to her. She thanked him and gulped it down until he’d refilled it twice more.

  “Anything to get the taste of blood out of my mouth.”

  “Okay but take it easy.” Grier shoved his hands into his pockets. He had new pants that fit him snugly around the hips but hung off them well. It was cute, rustic—not so official like a flight suit or his armor.

  “How long have I been recovering?”

  He looked out the window. “Over a day.”

  She gasped. She’d slept a day? And he’d stayed here the whole time? “What about the escort? Have I missed it?”

  “The escort hasn’t arrived yet. The wedding is tonight though, so I’m not sure what’s happening about that. But Emeryss, we really need to talk about this before it comes.”

  “Talk about what?”

  His eyelids fell along with his smile.

  They’d kissed just before everything went upside down. He’d held her. And then he’d pulled away, and she’d walked out. She swallowed and sat back against the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees.

  He took a deep breath. “You can’t do that again.”

  She flexed her sleepy fingers, ankles, and toes. “Do what? Die? Okay, I’ll try better next time—”

  “No, there can’t be a next time.”

  “Well, until I get back home—”

  “No, Emeryss.”

  Shaking her head, she didn’t like where this was going. “I didn’t know that would happen, Grier.”


  “I know.”

  “So why do you sound like you’re scolding me for this? I’m very grateful everyone saved me, and I won’t do it here again. But you won’t be responsible for me when I’m back in Neeria—”

  “No, Emeryss.”

  “No, what? Are you going to stay in Neeria and make sure I don’t?” He said nothing. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”

  He paced in the corner. “I’m in charge of protecting you.”

  “Are you serious right now? I’m in charge of my life.”

  “And I can’t protect you if you’re off killing yourself.” He stopped and loomed over her. “You are your worst enemy, Emeryss. Not Avrist, not the Librarian, not even Stadhold—you. And you’re going to kill yourself, and I can’t sit by and watch you do it.”

  “Then don’t!” she shouted back.

  “I can’t walk away. My life is tied to you—”

  “Not anymore.”

  His eyebrows pulled together.

  “I’m not a Scribe anymore, Grier.”

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does. You just said that your job is tied to mine—”

  “No!” he boomed, stepping up with his hand on his chest. “I said that my life is tied to yours.”

  Stunned at his ferocity, her heart fluttered. “Why? Why would that be? I can’t scribe anymore. I don’t need a Keeper. Go back to Stadhold and—”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Of course not! But isn’t that what you want?” She focused on the sheets below her. “Between the zipper stunt and kissing me and pulling away—you’ve made it very unclear what you want, thank you very much.”

  There was a long pause, and it made her sneak a look at him. His eyes were fixed on the ground by his feet.

  “I can’t live in a world where you’re not in it.”

  She pulled back. “What does that mean, Grier? What does that really mean?”

  “I can’t let you try to cast again.”

  She scoffed. If this is how he felt about her, then so be it. What was the point? “So, you’re going to knock me over the head and drag me back to Stadhold? You’ll have to kill me first.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’m being ridiculous? What are you waiting for, Grier? I’m not strong enough to stop you. Take me away, put me in my cell, throw away the key, make sure I never leave my little box.”

  Hurt and shock registered across his eyes when someone knocked on the door. And he was lucky they did. She wasn’t about to let him take her to Stadhold without a fight. She would have stood right there in front of him and tried to cast just to spite him. It was her life to live, and she wasn’t a Scribe anymore.

  Grier grabbed the latch and pulled the door open.

  “You up finally?” Adalai smiled ear to ear, her giant, bright-blue waves of hair bouncing as she stepped into the cabin. She leaned against the bunk pole and fidgeted with her fingernails. “You scared us to death, you know.”

  “Sorry,” Emeryss breathed. “Adalai, I’m so grateful. I don’t know how to thank everyone—”

  “Grier was right.” Adalai futzed with her uniform’s wrinkled overlay and shot him a glance. “I said I’d be responsible for your safety while casting, and then this happened.”

  “Not you, too. Seriously, Adalai. I chose this.” She put her hand to her chest. “I put you all in danger—”

  “Stop—”

  “No, I’m sorry, and I want to do something for you. Maybe not now, but when you all are able to take time off, come to Neeria. Let my family and I host a dinner and get you supplies or something. I don’t know. I just owe you so much.”

  Adalai shook her head and wiped the corner of her eye. Was she crying? Her nose was a little red. “Absolutely. When we get time, we’ll be sure to do that. But, uh, I actually wanted to tell you not to worry about the grimoires.”

  Emeryss turned to the stacks of books now absent from her bedside and looked at Grier.

  He chewed on his lip. “I had to tell them. They’re being taken into Marana today to be recycled as they should be.”

  So, they know. They all know.

  She blinked and looked back at Adalai. “I’m sorry—”

  “For what?” Adalai shook her head. “You freakin’ casted, Emeryss. You did it. You technically did the impossible.”

  “We did it.”

  Adalai’s cheeks burned bright red. “Nah, I don’t—”

  “No, I know it looked bad because I nearly killed myself, but you were the first one to believe me when I said the library was imprisoning me, and you were the first to support what I wanted to do. You’ve been so helpful. You’ve been such a great friend. I can’t thank you enough.”

  Adalai paled as a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. “Don’t thank me. Like you said, you nearly killed yourself. So…”

  “But I did it. You’re right. I just need more practice, and I’ll be able to practice in Neeria.”

  After a brief silence, Adalai swallowed and stiffened. “So, about that. The escort is late. We haven’t heard from Orr or seen it, and I was thinking. You’ve been cooped up in this airship all week. You’ve been in bed for over a day. You feel well enough to go to a party?”

  Grier’s head shot up. “No—”

  “Yes,” Emeryss said. “You think it’s safe enough to go to the wedding?”

  “Well, Grier should come, too.” Adalai gestured at him. “I mean, I think it’d be good to go out for a little while. Jahree and Mykel said they found you both something to wear. And that way when the escort arrives, you can hurry and jump on and go.”

  “It is entirely too dangerous. What’s wrong with waiting on the Zephyr? Especially if it’s so late?” he asked.

  “Well, I thought the same thing, but it’s a masquerade reception, so no one will recognize you. And, to be honest, the units in the city have already cleared the streets. The venue is clear, too. We’ve checked everything.”

  “This is a stupid idea,” Grier ground out through a clenched jaw.

  “I think it’s a great idea. I’m in danger all the time, and it’s not like I’m a Scribe anymore or anything. I got a second chance. I refuse to live my life afraid.”

  Adalai smiled at Emeryss and turned for the door. “I’ll have them bring your clothes for tonight.”

  She smiled, feeling more like herself since she’d woken up.

  After Adalai left and the door latched shut, Grier shook his head. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

  “No, I’m living my life.” She was done being angry, done being frustrated trying to figure out what he wanted. Done.

  “You’re putting yourself in harm’s way intentionally to spite me.”

  “I’m living my life. You can’t keep me locked up in this metal box all night after being on a ship all week, just like you can’t lock me up in a room my whole life in a library.”

  “It’s for your safety.”

  “Is it? Is it really? The library can throw me out, say I never existed—I don’t care. But you care. You care about Stadhold which is fine. That’s your dream. You’re the one who thinks our lives are tied together. They’re not. Go live your life, Grier. Go be happy.”

  “I don’t want to take you back to Stadhold and lock you up.”

  “But I can’t cast because I might get hurt—”

  “—die, yes.”

  “And I can’t go to a wedding for a couple hours because it might be dangerous. You can’t have it all, Grier. You can’t get everything you want, while dictating my life, too.”

  “That’s not—” He huffed. “None of this is coming out how I’d meant it. I need—”

  “More time?” Her skin burned a little at her own brashness.

  He stared back at her.

  “Time’s up, Grier. The escort is taking me home tonight.”

  He shook his head, opened the door, and stormed out.

 
; She had held it all in, but as soon as the door closed, she let the few tears balancing at the corner of her eyes fall. She’d told herself she had to let him go and to stop wishing they could be something, but it was impossible.

  Being just a job to him would be easier than this. It was clear he was fighting himself over something, but what, she wasn’t sure. If not a job, then what else? She’d wanted more—she used to—but now…

  She could never tell him how much she cared about him, how she’d thought he had feelings for her, too. He had to be the one to say it. He had to figure out his own issues, fight his own battles. She couldn’t do it for him.

  She was tired of the games and the back and forth. She was tired of being caught up in his confusion. He had to figure out what he wanted and do it. He couldn’t have it all or juggle it all at once while she was caught in the middle. She had a lot more to worry about than Grier’s feelings for her.

  Neeria.

  She’d be returning home soon to face their questions. She’d considered lying and telling them she was just on a break, but her parents and older sister would see right through it. She was never good at lying.

  And when her people found out… They’d been so proud of her being a Scribe. If she didn’t at least try to lie and say she could still scribe, she’d have to face their disappointment, face her mother’s harsh words about not being special and how stupid it was for her to want to be different. Her father would chastise her for wanting more than she’d been given. He’d say it was like throwing back the catch that jumped right into her boat.

  She could cast. Sort of. She should have been celebrating, and yet, everything was so much worse.

  She gripped her pillow harder. Grier’s lingering scent had been completely overtaken by the smell of her own blood, and she hated that it had. Grier had always been there, always beside her. Their time together had brought them closer than before and yet had also brought more hurt and pain.

  Whether she liked it or not, needed it or not, she’d be in Neeria, and he would then leave to go back to Stadhold. And she hated how much she feared it would be lonely there without him. Or would it feel normal, and she could forget him one day, just like she’d forget about scribing?