JUSTICE (The Ferryman + The Flame #2)

by Paille, Rhiannon

  Krishani waited until he was sure he had heard the door close before carefully climbing back into her room. Kaliel pretended to be asleep. He stifled a smile. She had the blanket pulled to her chin, her hands piled comfortably on her chest. Moonlight cracked across the room, shedding light onto her heart-shaped face, which was all pale white and shadows. He hesitated, wanting to climb on top of her and kiss her awake but he paused, glanced at the door and back at Kaliel. He slipped his tunic over his head and left it on the green embroidered rug. He paced back to the bed and took her hand in his, entwining his fingers through hers. He expected her to open her eyes, but she pressed her lips together to stifle a giggle. He put one knee beside her hips and straddled her between his legs. Both his hands came down around her face as he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She still didn’t move and he narrowed his eyes and dropped his lips to her ear.

  “You think you can sleep through this?” he whispered, his lips nipping at the pointed edge of her ear. Her unresponsiveness came as a challenge. He took her other hand and kissed the back of it before moving it to cup his face. She shivered underneath him, but didn’t open her eyes. He felt her tense, and he tensed too, desire flooding into him as he let her fingertips stroke his neck. He gripped her wrist and pushed her hand against his chest. She squirmed and he pressed forward, letting her hand slide to his torso. His lips were on hers as her fingers reached the hem of his breeches and he pushed her hand inside. She gasped and opened her eyes. Pulling her hand away she wrapped it around his waist, drawing him against her. She fiercely kissed him back as she kicked away the blankets. He wanted to feel her close against him, even if there was a layer of fabric between them. The blanket gone, he brazenly pressed himself against her, rocking his hips against her, careful not to crush her with his weight. Even though he was lanky, she was delicate and smaller than him. Her lips parted and the sweetness of honeysuckle forced his head to swell with passion. He gasped at the sexiness, almost reaching the point of no return. He reluctantly pushed away and untangled his other hand from hers. Panting, he gazed at her with a spurious frown. She smiled and giggled as he flopped down beside her and pressed his lips to her shoulder. She trembled at his touch and rolled onto her side, propping herself up with her elbow.

  “I told you she checks on me.”

  “I like that you have a tower. Why don’t you make me hide up there more often?” Krishani murmured, his lips still exploring her skin. He kissed the crux of her elbow and she pulled it away, tucking it under herself.

  She faced him, her green eyes hidden behind a shadow. “I like the waterfall.”

  Krishani smiled. “It might be safer to continue this there.”

  She pushed the blankets off and he grabbed her hand. She squished her toes into her slippers as he slid the boots over his feet. He fastened his cloak to his shoulders and she did the same with the black cloak from Evennses. She was a little shaky on her feet from the ordeal, but he knew he was her strength when she had none.

  They slipped into the hall, through the big doors and out into the courtyard, through the gates and over the mote. They walked playfully down the path to the waterfall, their hips knocking into each other as Kaliel sidled up next to him. The falls hadn’t lost their glory since he’d last visited them. She beamed as she skipped up the stone walkway and entered the cave. He followed, his hand still locked in hers, but before she could take another step he pulled her back and she crashed into him, his lips finding hers in a rough and desperate way. She linked her arms around his neck and let his hands press against her waist.

  “She was in a field,” Kaliel whispered as his lips found her neck.

  Krishani fell limp. He let go and she crumpled onto the grass, almost too weak to stand. He moved behind her and looked at the pitch black cave. When he turned back she seemed disappointed.

  He only nodded and came to sit beside her in the grass. “Tell me more.”

  “We were riding on horseback, in a . . . sack. We reached a cabin. There were mountains surrounding the field.” She stopped and closed her eyes. “He took her out of the bag and put her in a lantern, and then she glowed,” Kaliel finished. She looked at him for acceptance.

  He frowned, confused. “I still don’t understand how she could be in a lantern.”

  Kaliel’s face fell. “Neither do I.”

  “And she isn’t dying?”

  She shook her head. “She’s a prisoner of the man, but not the foe.”

  He smiled. “Did it hurt when you saw her?”

  She gave him a faint grin. “I was still…when I saw her…”

  “What Melianna puts on your forehead would make anyone heady.” Krishani laughed. He pulled her hand and she wound her fingers through his and moved so her head was on his shoulder. He wanted to kiss her again and make all the bad things go away, but he knew the moment dawn came she would be bedridden. Lady Atara would take over monitoring her, healing her, helping her.

  “Will you ever be awake again?” Krishani whispered.

  Kaliel looked at him, her eyes full of misery. “I want to be, but you don’t understand.” She stood and went to the waterfall, letting the mist soak her cloak. Krishani followed, putting his hands on her shoulders.

  “No, my dreams have never been like yours.”

  “I can feel them,” she admitted. She turned and let his arms fall around her waist, his palm pressed against her lower back. He waited for an explanation. “When I concentrate, I can reach out and touch them. All of them are tiny little orbs of light, each one a separate glow. I know where some of them are.” She stopped and pressed her lips together like she wanted to stuff the words back into her mouth. Lotesse died because she knew where they were and she wouldn’t tell. Krishani didn’t want her to know, because if she knew, the foe had all the reason to come for her.

  “You can’t tell me,” he said.

  “I know, but you know, too. The Lands of Men….” Krishani pulled her closer, pushing her face into his shoulder.

  “We need to go back. Dawn will come, you need sleep,” he said into her hair. He took her by the hand and led her towards the Elmare Castle.

  “Tiki was on Terra,” she muttered as they trailed along the path.

  “And I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” Krishani smiled. He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. She braced herself by wrapping her arms around his waist. They walked intertwined towards the castle and stopped before they got too close to be seen together.

  Krishani turned to face her. “Avristar must be so envious,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Why?”

  “I love you more than I love her.”

  Kaliel locked eyes with him. She was stunning in the morning light, strands of hair illuminated by the soft rays of sun that crept over the horizon, creating a halo of light around her. She pecked him on the cheek and slipped away.

  “Find me when night covers the land,” she said as she disappeared from sight.

  Krishani’s eyes snapped open like he was swimming to the surface of the lake. He coughed and choked. The bed he slept in was raw, the room was dank and dark even with the candle flickering away on the table in the corner. The room was only big enough for the bed. When he rolled over and put his feet on the floor he could touch the short door in front of him. It was less than a foot from his face. He buried his head in his hands and closed his eyes, trying to bring the memory back to him, but his insides shook with grief and fear.

  Tiki is on Terra.

  He hadn’t forgotten a word she had said in their time together. Every time he found her in dreams it hurt less for moments, and then it stung like salt being rubbed into a fresh wound. He tried to find his strength and pushed himself back onto the bed. Kaliel knew where the Flames were. They were linked in a way that allowed them to communicate across great distances.

  If he found Tiki, he could find the others.

  Krishani’s heart stuttered as he tried to drift back into a dream about h
er. Nothing in the bleak world mattered anymore, nothing but finding the Flames and keeping them away from Crestaos.

  He shifted his weight and ended up catching his right hand in the faint candlelight. It was pitch black, the disease creeping up his forearm, wrapping itself like an ivy plant around his elbow. He stifled his disgust at everything the Ferryman was and pulled his sleeve over his arm, covering up the atrocity of his identity.

  15

  Vultures

  Mallorn sat in the hall before dawn. He stared at the grooves in the panels, the cracks between them, the wrinkles in his hands. He heard shuffling from the east wing and glanced at Tulsen. The Watcher looked cleaner, his face sullen. He caught sight of Mallorn and his expression weakened. He sat down reluctantly. Mallorn met his gaze.

  “What vile thing has happened on Avristar?” Tulsen asked.

  Mallorn sighed and his gut tightened. He didn’t want to share the entire story, but when he told Tulsen Krishani had been in love, the lord had turned pale. He still looked sickly in comparison to the night before. He cleared his throat and tried to find the simplest way to describe it. “Crestaos attacked.”

  Tulsen gasped. “Was Krishani involved?”

  Mallorn took a sharp breath and turned his eyes to the red carpet. His voice sounded monotone when he finally spoke. “Krishani was the reason for the attack.”

  Tulsen stiffened and slowly curled his hands into fists. “Tell me the whole of it.”

  Mallorn stood and moved towards the door. “He won’t stay and be your Ferryman.”

  “I don’t care what he wants,” Tulsen hissed.

  “Then you shouldn’t care what happened in Avristar,” Mallorn said, his temper flaring equal parts. He wanted to protect Krishani from the tyranny of the lands, not put him in the middle of it. There was no need to turn his identity as a Ferryman into a battle. Everyone would lose.

  Tulsen’s eyes turned to ice. “I will offer no provisions if you leave me without answers.”

  Mallorn’s face fell. He didn’t want to be so easily defeated, but he was a guest. He felt guilty telling Tulsen anything about Avristar. He had an obligation to protect Kaliel, even in death. He didn’t want Tulsen getting any bad ideas about the Flames. The problem was, she was what held Krishani together when he was starving for air and fighting against foes he had never seen the likes of. She was everything and she was nothing because she was gone.

  Mallorn avoided Tulsen’s stare and leaned against one of the pillars. “Kaliel was a Flame and Crestaos came for her and Krishani . . .” His voice broke. He couldn’t say the rest; he had already said too much. The truth clawed at him like a rabid animal.

  Tulsen looked fearful. “You didn’t say she was a Flame last night.”

  “I also didn’t tell you she’s dead.”

  Tulsen looked stricken. He was silent. He stood and snapped his fingers. A servant poked their head between the pillars. “You will prepare horses and food for our visitors and have the guards prepare weapons and armor. Go!” The servant nodded and slunk into the wings.

  Mallorn sighed. “Krishani will do what he wants for his will is broken.”

  Tulsen set his lips in a line. “I won’t stop him, but mark my words, death will follow him. The lands outside this compound are dangerous and unpredictable. I will provide him what protection I can offer, but I cannot change what he is.”

  “I would be a stranger either way,” Krishani’s raspy voice carried from a shadow in the wings. He stepped into the light. His hair was limp and oily while his face was paler than usual. Mallorn thought he looked more elven than human in a way that the villagers would notice.

  “Have you changed your mind?” Tulsen asked, sizing him up. He glanced at Mallorn like their conversation wasn’t over.

  “No, I want to leave.”

  Tulsen nodded. “I cannot force you to stay.” He glanced at Mallorn, but didn’t say anything. Mallorn nodded, understanding. Krishani’s parents. His mother was elven and his father was human, but both of them had died over a century ago. He had taken on the elven traits more than the human ones. Mallorn was wary of how many enemies he would create simply because of his appearance.

  “Where is Pux?” Krishani asked.

  Mallorn’s gut tightened. The servants sent him to sleep with the pigs and the feorn hadn’t refused. “I’ll return,” he said to Tulsen, though he was sure Krishani couldn’t hear him. He took one last glance at the boy and stepped out of the hall.

  Krishani watched him go, bewildered. Without Mallorn, there was nothing stopping him from attacking Tulsen.

  “You won’t be cursed if you accept who you are. The Ferrymen have been around since the First Era. It’s their job to take souls to the Great Hall.” Tulsen poured a goblet of wine and sat on the throne.

  Krishani scowled at him.

  Tulsen leaned forward, setting the goblet down and clasping his hands together. “Davlin showed you how to do it. Grab their hand, look into their eyes, say the incantation. Do not be late.”

  Late, Krishani thought, his heart breaking. He gripped the stone pillar harder, warding off the memory of the mountain exploding.

  “The Vultures devour souls. They leave nothing behind,” Tulsen added.

  Kaliel wasn’t the victim of a Vulture; Avristar wasn’t infected with Vultures. Krishani thought about her in the Great Hall. She was safe, he was sure of it.

  “Are you listening to me?” Tulsen snapped.

  Krishani met his eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

  Tulsen scoffed. “You don’t want to know that when a Vulture takes a soul it no longer exists? What will you do when that feorn is dying?”

  Krishani punched the pillar, a growl bubbling in the back of his throat. “Leave him out of it.”

  “Nobody is safe.”

  “I am. I’m the only one that can’t die.” He wanted to blot out Tulsen’s acidic tone. He wanted to be nothing. He stalked towards the wooden table. The servants had brought in a tray of bread. He took a piece, biting down hard on the chewy loaf.

  “You’re the only one that can protect them after they die.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Krishani asked as he swallowed hard. His jaw muscles tightened as he processed Tulsen’s words. After death, that’s what Davlin meant when he said he helped them.

  “The Vultures will tempt you. You’re not strong enough to face them.” Tulsen picked up a piece of bread and began tearing off small bits of it and folding them into his mouth.

  Krishani shuddered. The one hovering over the girl made him nauseous, and it was only a dream. He wanted to run from death, escape everything that was decayed and rotten about the lands. All he had left was finding the Flames and saving them from a fate worse than death.

  “I’m strong enough to find the Flames.” Krishani smiled at Tulsen, in a mocking sort of way. He wanted to piss off the man as much as he possibly could, prove to him he wasn’t worthy of being a Ferryman. He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “If I end them before Crestaos finds them . . .”

  Tulsen choked on his bread. “You plan on killing them?”

  The doors burst open as Pux bounded into the hall, scampering towards the bread. Mallorn was on his heels, panting. He bent over, resting his hands on his thighs. The feorn smelled as filthy as the pigs. Krishani scrunched up his nose and glanced at Mallorn. He was covered in dirt.

  “The pigs are lively Tulsen,” Mallorn said with disdain. “Will you have your servants give us some extra garments?”

  Tulsen gave Krishani a warning glare. “Aye,” he muttered.

  By midday they were fastening sacks onto the backs of the horses, fitting chainmail over their tunics, strapping swords around their waists. Pux wielded a dagger and wore more clothing than was necessary for a feorn. Breeches fell past his knees and boots fit uncomfortably.

  “Get up,” Krishani ordered Pux.

  Mallorn cocked an eyebrow. “I thought he would ride with me.”

  “You can’t h
andle the smell,” Krishani replied. He climbed onto the white horse after Pux and looked back at Tulsen. He stood on the landing. When their eyes met Tulsen came towards them. Mallorn pulled his brown stallion to the gates, but Krishani waited.

  “You mustn’t do anything rash,” Tulsen said.

  “Nobody is safe,” Krishani mimicked Tulsen with a sneer. “He will destroy anything to get to them.”

  “But you cannot kill them!” Tulsen’s voice went up an octave on the word kill, but he kept his voice low.

  Pux shifted uncomfortably on the horse and Krishani regretted the fact the feorn had to see this.

  “I will do what I must,” Krishani said. He snapped the reins and trotted towards Mallorn.

  “We can return anytime.” Mallorn tried to say it to be reassuring, but Krishani only grimaced.

  “I hope that won’t be necessary.”

  The gates opened. Krishani led his horse first, trampling over the dirt road. He waited for Mallorn to catch up, speeding into a gallop.

  16

  The Desecrated Village

  They kept to the main road now that they were well armed. Krishani reached the line of trees in the distance and continued up the gradual incline with force. Tulsen would never understand how it felt. The pain never stopped. It throbbed on in the background, tightening muscles, churning his stomach, tearing his heart. The pain of death was nothing compared to the pain of living.

  Krishani paused on top of a large mound. It was nothing but an elevated piece of land. Below it the path thickened into trees and in the distance was an outline of mountains. Mallorn rounded his horse and stopped beside Krishani. Both of the horses were out of breath and wanted water.

  “Will you cross Gott’s river?” Mallorn asked.