Protector of the Flame

by Isis Rushdan

  She took his forearm and they continued down the hall. They crossed the usual threshold and he stared at her when she proceeded without a sign of any ailment. Sensing Cyrus, her energy stream stirred in anticipation of their connection, but not a quiver of the desperate thirst that had recently plagued her.

  Their streams melded, the feel of it comforting her like a cozy blanket on a cold night.

  He stopped in front of her door. “How do you feel?”

  “I could probably use a nap.”

  The door swung open. Cyrus roped an arm around her waist and kissed her. “Adriel,” he said flatly.

  “Cyrus.” Adriel handed him the painting.

  A cocky smile spread on Cyrus’s face at yet another portrait of him naked.

  Adriel rolled his eyes and turned to Serenity. “Are you sure you feel all right?”

  “What’s wrong?” Cyrus asked, setting the painting inside the room.

  “She yawned five times and the sickness she feels when she connects to you seems to have stopped.”

  Cyrus stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Are you tired? You should rest.”

  “I can bring you breakfast,” Adriel offered too quickly.

  Cyrus pulled her into the room. “I’ll get her breakfast.”

  “Thank you, Adr—” Cyrus slammed the door in his face, cutting her off. “You don’t have to be so rude to him.”

  “Does he stay down there with you all night?” His tone was more irritated than angry.

  “Just for a couple of hours before sunrise. He usually reads off to the side.”

  He ushered her to the bed as if she were an invalid. “Get in.” He pulled back the covers and tucked her in. “I’ll go get you something to eat and I’ll be right back.”

  “I can go down with you and take a nap after I eat.”

  He gave her a stern look.

  “Or I can stay here.” She pulled the covers up and watched him leave.

  Rolling onto her side, she touched her breasts. They’d grown tender and were beginning to swell. She hadn’t complained during their nightly lovemaking before she retreated to the lounge to paint, but she wanted to scream when he fondled her lately.

  She stretched and curled up into a ball. With one last yawn, she shut her eyes and sleep drifted over her.

  When she woke, Cyrus was nestled around her, rubbing her stomach.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Three, maybe four hours. You had a nightmare and talked in your sleep. I thought about waking you, but this is the first time you’ve slept in weeks.” He pressed his cheek against hers. “Do you remember what you dreamt?”

  A fog clouded her mind. “What did I say?”

  “Something about fire and that you were afraid of water. You sounded terrified, and then you called out to me. Anything coming back to you?”

  There was nothing. A blank slate. “I don’t remember dreaming.”

  None of her dreams were pleasant or boded happy things. She’d dreamt of her mother leaving and her father dying, then it happened. Twenty-five years later, she’d dreamt of a blue angel guiding her through darkness and death nearly taking her. That also happened.

  Now she dreamed and couldn’t even remember the warning.

  Her stomach growled. “I guess that means it’s time to eat.”

  They sat up and he handed her a bowl of Yaki. It was cold with the same soupy consistency. She ate it without thinking about it. “How did you get out of your work detail?”

  “I told Neith you weren’t well and needed me. They won’t miss me down at the quarry.” He tugged her shirt up and kissed her stomach. “You’re starting to show.”

  She gazed down at her softly rounded tummy.

  “I like it,” he said.

  A flutter rippled through her stomach, but it wasn’t through her energy stream. It was through the wall of her abdomen. She set her bowl down. A series of disturbing pops rattled in her belly. An acute pain tightened in her abdomen, making her touch it with fright. First a nightmare, now this.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Something doesn’t feel right.”

  He leapt out of bed. “We’re going to see Carin, right now.”

  Without arguing, she put on her sneakers, and they rushed to the silkworm hut.

  Ximena came out carrying a basket of spooled silk. When she spotted them, unease tightened across her face.

  Serenity suddenly wanted to leave. Staring at Ximena, squirrel monkey on her shoulder clawing at their approach, she had an inkling of what she might feel due to the link with Adriel and didn’t want to upset her.

  Setting the basket on the ground, Ximena met their gazes. Less than twelve inches separated them and she glanced at Serenity, eyes sharp with jealousy and hatred.

  The monkey stopped clawing the air in their direction and a confused expression took over its face as it scratched its head. Squealing, the monkey jumped to the ground and ran to a tree past the tiger.

  “Where’s Carin?” Cyrus asked.

  Ximena stared at the monkey with a bemused look, watching it scurry up a tree. “Inside.”

  Cyrus went to the hut and called Carin out.

  The monkey screamed and threw nuts at Ximena. The bald woman made kissing sounds, trying to encourage him to come down, but the monkey screeched while clinging to a branch.

  “Cyrus said something is wrong with the baby.” Carin hurried to her.

  “I felt a weird popping, but it’s stopped. I have a strange pain and my energy stream has gone back to normal.”

  Carin touched Serenity’s stomach and closed her eyes.

  Bracing for a diagnosis of some odd affliction, Serenity pushed emotion aside.

  A strained look crossed Carin’s face, then she staggered back, covering her mouth with a shaking hand.

  “What is it?” Cyrus asked.

  Eyes filled with terror and tears, Carin just stared at Serenity, slowly retreating.

  Cyrus stepped toward her. “What did you feel?”

  “I didn’t…didn’t feel anything.” Carin shook her head. “It’s like she’s dead.”

  “What are you saying?” Cyrus grabbed her by the shoulders. “Try again,” he demanded.

  “No!” Carin pulled away horrified.

  Refusing to succumb to panic with hysterics, Serenity turned on her heels and headed for the library to Adriel. She could hear Cyrus pleading with Carin, commanding her to take another look, but her response was the same.

  Quickening her pace, she took off jogging toward the main building. By the time the gleaming, octagonal structure was in her sights, Cyrus was at her side.

  “I want to see Adriel.”

  “I know.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  When they reached the dormitory level of the walkway, they slowed at the sight of a line leading up to the library. She recognized the various team leaders of the record-keepers. Near the front of the line, which led to the ancient archives were Atlas and Tosia.

  Sothis leaned against a wall, dressed in a cream outfit, arms folded, watching as the record-keeper team leaders took their turn one at a time inside the archive.

  “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you training the others?” Serenity asked.

  “I have the others working with the rest of the warriors. I came to speak to Neith about Cyrus.” She looked at him. “It’s time I worked with you one-on-one. You need to prepare. And Serenity—” she handed her a wide leather cuff, “—I want you to wear this from now on.”

  She took the rigid cuff from her mother. “Why?”

  “It has a concealed blade. A flick up with your wrist releases it. If you have trouble using a knife, I’ll teach you.”

  One record-keeper left the ancient archive, carrying three weighty books and two scrolls.

  “What’s going on?” Serenity asked.

  “Neith is dismantling the library and giving them each a piece of it,” Sothis said.

  Dread trickled throug
h her in a slow burn. Serenity watched the next one go into the archive. Mira greeted him in the doorway and pointed to Neith seated at a table inside the room. “But why? Unless she thinks we’ll fail.”

  Her mother met her gaze but didn’t respond.

  “We can worry about that later.” Cyrus took her hand and led her to the computer terminals.

  Twenty historians sat busy at work, including Adriel.

  “May we speak with you in private?” Cyrus asked him.

  Dante and Rabi eyed them suspiciously, but Adriel got up without delay and took them into Neith’s office.

  Serenity rattled off her symptoms, desperate to know what was wrong. “We went to Carin, but…she couldn’t see anything. She said…” Serenity looked at Cyrus.

  “It doesn’t matter what she said.” Cyrus shook his head dismissing it. “You take a look.”

  Adriel tentatively put one hand on her stomach, the other on her shoulder and caressed the slight roundness of her belly.

  He could’ve healed her by holding her hands. He didn’t have to touch her in such an intimate way, but it didn’t surprise her in the least that he would milk any opportunity which allowed him to put his hands on her, especially in front of Cyrus, despite the risk.

  Adriel closed his eyes. She waited for his hands to get warm and his palms to glow. A second later, he grimaced, opening his eyes. He put both hands on her stomach.

  “You can’t feel me or the baby?”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” He removed his hands and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “Give me a moment.” He left the office, passing Sothis who lurked in the doorway.

  Adriel went to Rabi and spoke fervently. She lifted her hands and he held them. His palms glowed. At his insistence, Rabi followed him back into the office.

  “I’d like you to use your ingenium,” Adriel said to Rabi.

  “In here? Neith has forbidden me to in her office. It’s too disruptive.”

  “Please indulge me,” Adriel insisted.

  Rabi twirled her hands in the air, but nothing happened. Her brow crinkled and she tried again. Her eyes widened and she stared at her hands.

  “Go back out there and try again,” Adriel said.

  She left the room. Standing near the air outlet, she waved her hands and a gust of wind blew in, tousling the curtains, rattling the computers and knocking two historians from their seats. Relieved, Rabi spun, clapping her hands.

  Sothis entered the office, but hovered off to the side.

  “It’s not that I can’t see you. Our ingeniums don’t seem to work around you, as if you’re blocking them. I felt clogged when I touched you.” He looked at Cyrus. “Can you still shift?”

  His wings unfurled in a whoosh and he shifted from blue to the ecru shade of the walls, and back to normal. Retracting his wings, he gazed at Serenity.

  “I guess warriors aren’t affected,” Adriel said. “Only those of the Psi class. Perhaps it’s because our ingeniums work in a different way.”

  “How is this possible?” Serenity stroked her belly, hoping there was nothing wrong with the child. The tightening sensation hadn’t eased. “Do I have a new ability?”

  “It might be the child’s power manifesting.” Sothis stepped forward.

  She looked at her mother. “Did this happen when you were pregnant with me?”

  “No. When your great grandmother Willa carried Arcturus and his brothers, each of their gifts manifested through her while she was pregnant, but not until she was close to delivery.”

  “But that doesn’t explain what’s wrong with the baby. I felt something strange earlier and I have a weird tightening sensation, like cramping.” A series of pops rippled through her lower abdomen like popcorn going off inside her. “There it goes again. Something’s wrong with him.”

  “Him,” Cyrus and Adriel said in unison. Cyrus narrowed his eyes, and Adriel moved to the other side of Serenity so that she was in between them.

  Sothis put her hands on her stomach. The pops rattled again. “Is that what you’re talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mother grinned. “That’s the baby kicking and the slight discomfort is most likely growing pains, your body accommodating the fetus.”

  “I didn’t think it would start moving around so early.”

  “How far along are you?”

  “Seventeen weeks in two days,” Adriel answered before Cyrus could.

  Serenity wished Adriel would stop antagonizing him. If only he knew how much Cyrus wanted to crush him into the dirt, he wouldn’t dare provoke him.

  “It is a little early for us. The average Kindred pregnancy is forty-eight weeks.”

  “Oh.” Something so simple and basic, she didn’t even know. Yet, she was supposed to be a mother to this child if they survived. Sothis touched her shoulder. “I forget how little you know of your own kind, how everything is filtered through your human eyes.” Compassion warmed her voice.

  “Maybe we could spend some time together in the evenings. You could tell me what you went through when you were pregnant and what I could expect.”

  “I’m not sure how much good I’d be to you. Your pregnancy seems to be different.”

  Serenity shook off the rebuff. “Of course.”

  “Sothis,” Cyrus said, “I think you could be a great help to her. She won’t talk to me about what she’s experiencing, but she needs to talk to someone.”

  Her husband knew more than she gave him credit for. He understood her desperate longing to connect with her mother, but he recognized her need for help in navigating pregnancy.

  “We’ll have to do it before or right after dinner. I’m adjusting my schedule to stand watch with the sentinels in the evenings and I’ll work with Cyrus during the day.”

  “Why are you going to stand watch?” Serenity wondered.

  “It’s something I’d already given thought to, but after today and the steps Neith is taking, I feel compelled. If someone comes here with the intent to snuff out your flame, they’ll do so between dusk and dawn. It’s how I’d do it. I need to be ready.”

  Serenity hugged her. “Thank you, for everything.” When Sothis didn’t reciprocate the embrace, Serenity let her go.

  “Cyrus, I’d like to start working with you today,” Sothis said. “You’ve wasted enough time on Neith’s game.”

  Cyrus turned Serenity so that her back was to Adriel. He smiled, but not at her or Sothis. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her. It was long, passionate and purposefully over the top to get under Adriel’s skin. His hands wandered across her back and buttocks, and when she thought it would finally end, he continued for another thirty seconds.

  The display was absurd, but if it kept Cyrus from ripping Adriel apart, she was happy to oblige him.

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” he said.

  She gave him a disapproving look at which his smile widened, then he left with Sothis. Serenity punched Adriel in the shoulder.

  “What was that for?”

  “You have no idea what it’s like for him to tolerate this link between us.”

  “He doesn’t have a choice,” Adriel said coldly.

  She looked at him hard. “When your flame goes out, will this bond die with you?”

  He didn’t respond right away. Hurt or shock passed across his face like a shadow. “The unnatural tether between us, as Neith likes to call it, will end when my flame no longer burns. But the bond between us will never die. You can keep telling yourself that the only reason you love me is because of the endearment link, if it makes this easier for you.”

  There had been a strange attraction from the very beginning, but she would have severed all association with him the minute their friendship dared to ruffle one hair on Cyrus’s head if not for this damnable tether.

  “Why do you insist on making the situation worse by saying things like that?”

  A sad, tortured smile propped his lips up. “I’ve never healed someone that hates me, so I can’t
be sure exactly how my secondary gift works, but I suspect such a person wouldn’t be inclined to feel affection for me. Everyone that I’ve healed thus far loves me, as a son or brother or a friend. Can you honestly say that’s the extent of what you feel for me? It’s different with everyone that I heal. It’s different for a reason.”

  “Ximena doesn’t love you as a brother or a friend.”

  “She had an interest in me before I healed her. My gift only heightened what nature put in her heart.”

  It was true that he’d stirred something dangerous inside of her beyond the hold of his secondary gift, but she’d never admit it for both their sakes. “Stop saying such things and stop riling Cyrus.”

  Adriel turned and walked away.

  Right behind him, she said, “If you keep pushing him, you won’t get up next time.”

  He stopped in the doorway and faced her, the corners of his mouth tilting up. “Are you telling me this out of love for him or love for me?”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Serenity suppressed the urge to slap Adriel and sat at a computer terminal next to Dante. “What’s going on?”

  “Neith assigned each of us to one of the record-keeper teams. Once we’re done updating the database with the latest information, she’s going to download the database, giving us each a portion of it. Then we’ll wipe the mainframe here clean,” Dante explained. “She’s also sending most of the workers away, except for essential personnel to keep things running at a bare minimum.”

  Rabi looked around Dante at her. “Would you mind moving to a different workstation? I don’t wish to be rude, but it’s creepy being near you now.”

  Dante lowered his head. “Forgive us.”

  She hadn’t noticed how the historians had closed off their collective stream to her until now. They even feared her and the growing abilities of the child. The one place on the island where she’d found acceptance was no longer a refuge.

  She moved as far away as possible and watched the next record-keeper enter the archives.

  The island was being evacuated and the library dismantled for its protection. Alarm flooded her entire system, making her lightheaded.