The Sharpest Blade ml-3

by Sandy Williams

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Aren can’t fight both of them. Neither can I.

  “I’ve got Cardak.” Kyol’s voice cuts through the air. My adrenaline’s been pumping way too hard to realize how close he was. He’s just entered the back room and is standing a few strides from the false-blood.

  I nod, acknowledging Kyol’s words, then look at Aren. He’s facing Nimael, but his brow is furrowed.

  “McKenzie?”

  Crap. The elari is illusioned.

  “Swing!” I shout as Nimael rushes him. I shove a rolling cart forward. Aren’s wild swing makes the elari twist out of the way, but the cart hits him. A toolbox and a small TV topple over.

  Sparks erupt when the TV smashes to the ground. They’re blue sparks, bright and sizzling. Aren leaps back, but Nimael falls on his back with a cry.

  “Drop the sword!” someone shouts.

  I wouldn’t pay any attention to the order except that it comes from a human.

  I look behind me, see a security guard with a Taser pointed at me. Kynlee’s standing next to him.

  Kyol sees the Taser, too. He fissures away from Cardak’s attack and knocks the device out of the human’s hand.

  It skitters across the floor, landing by my foot.

  “Behind you, Taltrayn!” Aren shouts at the same time I yell, “Kynlee, run!”

  Kyol sidesteps, barely avoiding the false-blood’s attack.

  Aren’s back on his feet. He and Kyol close in on the fae. Cardak’s glare shifts between the two of them, then, ever so casually, he raises his sword and slashes through the security guard’s stomach.

  Kyol and Aren both lunge forward, but Cardak fissures out of the way. Some instinct tells me he’s going to appear behind me so I sweep up the Taser, turn, and fire.

  The cartridge shoots out, striking the false-blood’s cheek. Edarratae explode across his skin like a million blue veins. He drops to the ground, shaking, vomiting.

  His legs kick out, striking me so viciously I’m knocked off my feet. A surge of electricity flows into me, but it disperses quickly, and I watch Cardak twitch as froth bubbles out of his mouth. I don’t feel a twinge of remorse. I remember Sosch and Shane and a countless number of others who are dead because of him and when his body gives one last twitch before it disappears into the ether, I know that this is a death that I will never regret.

  “Are you hurt?” Kyol kneels in front of me. He searches for an injury.

  I grab his hands, hold them still. “I’m okay. Lena?”

  “I fissured her to the Realm,” he says.

  He fissured her to the Realm. She’s safe. The false-blood’s dead.

  My breath whooshes out of me, carrying with it a thousand worries. I squeeze Kyol’s hand as I look past him, searching for Aren. I find Nimael instead. He’s still here, still alive. His eyes are wide, like he’s just witnessed the death of someone he worshipped, and he’s still on his back with the TV and the tools and parts scattered around him. I don’t think he’s a threat, but—

  No. He is a threat. The edarratae draw my attention first. They’re leaping and spiraling and crashing over the hand he lifts. The hand that’s holding the Taser I dropped when I fell.

  “Kyol!” I scream, but I’m too late. Nimael lunges forward, firing the Taser as he slams it into Kyol’s back. Light explodes all around us, then . . .

  THIRTY-ONE

  ALL I SEE are shadows upon shadows. In this emptiness, I should feel nothing, but there are sensations. Sensations of falling. Sensations of burning.

  Sensations of loss.

  I try to catch hold of something, anything that will ground me and make me whole again.

  * * *

  THERE may be light in the shadows, bolts of blue and white and shades of silver at the edges of my vision, but every time I try to focus on the flashes, they disappear. I think they might be remnants of my soul. It’s missing, and I’m a shell of what I was before. Shells can be crushed. They can be ground into powder and scattered in the wind. I feel scattered. I feel lost. The only way to find a path home is to follow the lights. There’s a certain color I need to hold on to. It can sew my soul back together, so, blindly, I search the shimmering night . . .

  * * *

  LOW, incoherent murmurs invade the darkness. The shadows fluctuate with the volume of the voices, but I’m still lost. Still cold. Still wandering.

  “. . . better when . . . together.”

  “. . . loves him.”

  “Of course . . . Ten years. Not even you can erase that . . .”

  The conversation should make sense. If I listen harder, if I climb my way out of the abyss, I can understand.

  “I want her to be happy.”

  “So does he.”

  He. Kyol. Aren. The names twist through my memory. I have to climb out of this abyss. For them.

  * * *

  HOW long has it been?

  My question is attached to a voice. Not my voice, though. It’s Aren’s.

  “Long enough that I’m ordering you to leave.”

  That’s Lena. I’m almost there. The fuzziness in my brain is fading, but something’s still not right. I don’t feel . . .

  Kyol. He’s lying beside me, his cold arm touching mine. I try to make my hand reach out for him, but I don’t have command of my body yet.

  I don’t have command of my voice either, so I reach out with my emotions. There’s no response from him, just emptiness.

  “I’m not leaving her,” Aren says. “She could wake.”

  “She may not. And if she does, Aren, she may not be well. The tech . . .”

  “She’ll pull through this,” he says. “They’ll pull through this.”

  “You need to prepare yourself for the possibility . . .”

  * * *

  I’M in the Realm. That accounts for some of the lightness I feel. The air has a different quality to it, a different viscousness than Earth’s. My head hurts, my mouth is dry, and I feel so weak, like I’ve been lying here for weeks.

  I try to open my eyes. I can’t.

  Kyol?

  “Any change?” Lena asks.

  There’s no response. I know Aren’s here, though. I smell cedar and cinnamon, and I can feel his presence.

  “She was angry,” he says. “She didn’t understand why I claimed to be the garistyn.”

  That’s not true. I told him I didn’t understand why he didn’t leave with me afterward.

  “You’re an idiot,” Lena tells him.

  A small snort of laughter. “That’s what she told me, but I did what I had to do to protect her, and to secure your seat on the throne. Hison arrested you. If news of that became public . . .”

  “We would have found a way to secure the throne despite his interference.”

  “Would we have?” Aren asks.

  I want so much to open my eyes. I think I might be able to now. I should try. I shouldn’t lie here and let Aren immerse himself in guilt.

  Lena sighs. “If Taltrayn had stepped forward instead of you, he wouldn’t have let any harm come to her. He would have fought for his freedom. If he didn’t achieve it on his own, he would have left when she found him in Hison’s offices.”

  “She took down half his guard,” Aren says, admiration softening his voice. “She thinks so little of herself, but she’s strong. She’s amazing.”

  “She’s okay,” Lena says.

  I almost smile.

  I really should open my eyes now.

  “We finished identifying the documents Taltrayn and Caelar found in Jythkrila,” Lena says.

  “You can link him to Thrain?”

  “Yes, not that it matters now. There were letters between Cardak and his brother. There were also several old documents. One was a map of the Sidhe Tol. It’s old and faded, but the Sidhe Tol he gave to Caelar was on it. So was one other we hadn’t learned about yet.”

  There’s a long pause. This would be the perfect moment to groggily open my eyes, pretending I’m just now waking. The only rea
son I don’t is that emptiness I’m getting from Kyol. It feels . . . different now. More like a wall than a bottomless chasm. I try chipping away at it.

  “She thought I was dead,” Aren says.

  “We both did. There was no word from you, and Taltrayn heard rumors of your death.”

  “He was there for her. I’m glad.”

  “Are you?”

  I think he nods. Or shakes his head. I hear some kind of movement. I could open my eyes to very narrow slits. They might not notice. They might not be looking at me at all.

  “Staying away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Oh, come on, Aren.” Lena’s voice is gently scolding. “You didn’t stay away from her.”

  “I didn’t talk to her for three weeks.”

  “So you never once fissured to her apartment or to the library to check in on her?”

  Silence. My ears strain to hear another nod or a shake of his head, something to indicate his response.

  “Her friend is here,” Lena says after a moment. “She’s offered to watch her for a while.”

  My friend? Paige? That has to be who she’s talking about.

  “I already told you I’m not—”

  “You are,” she cuts him off. “You’re going to eat and sleep and live. Get out of here now, or I’ll have you removed.”

  I hear Aren sigh, hear him standing, moving away. My thoughts aren’t completely centered on him, though. There’s a tightness in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s mine or an echo of someone else’s.

  The door clicks shut.

  Cautiously, I open my eyes, focus on the ceiling, then—

  “If he doesn’t fight for you, he’s a fool.”

  “You’re awake, too!” I accuse, turning my head and lightly punching Kyol’s arm. A smile curves my lips. He’s looking at me. I’ve never seem him so pale and weak, but his gaze is sane. His magic might be fried from the Taser, but it will return. He hasn’t turned tor’um.

  God, he could have turned tor’um. He could have died.

  My body is under my control again. I roll on top of him, ignore his oomph, and hug him tight.

  “That was too close,” I say.

  He wraps his arms around me. “I agree.”

  Chaos lusters careen across me. They’re heating his skin, but I don’t pull away. He’s cold. I saw what happened when I Tasered Cardak. The life-bond is the only reason he’s alive.

  I move back just a little, lifting myself up enough to look in his silver eyes. “You’re okay?”

  He reaches up and touches my cheek. The gesture is tender, but it holds no little amount of sorrow. I close my eyes, that emotion cutting through me. I want so much to make him happy.

  “I will be okay,” he assures me, sensing the pain within me. “I was content during the ten years we worked together. I can be content again.”

  Oh, Kyol. Don’t you know I can feel your lie?

  I sit up, help him do the same. He’s so much weaker than I am right now. The electrical current that was pumped into him . . . I’m thankful he survived it, but I wish it would have severed the bond. I don’t think he’d hurt as much if it were gone. Sure, he would be broken-hearted, but he could take his mind off me more easily.

  I have to find a way to sever the bond. Kelia and Naito might have tried everything she could think of to end hers with Lorn, but that was a fae-to-fae connection. Mine is human-to-fae. Surely, that makes it weaker. I’ll try everything I can to break it. For now, though, we have to be okay.

  “It’ll be easier once you move on and find someone else.” I’m not sure if my words are meant to assure me or him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look at me, but I can feel the doubt circling through him.

  “You will find someone else, Kyol. I’m not the only girl for you.”

  He doesn’t believe me. Not yet, at least.

  “Jacia’s pretty,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood.

  His gaze slides my way. “McKenzie.”

  “So is Lena, but that would be a conflict of interest, I think. Plus, we hate each other.”

  “McKenzie,” he scolds again, but my words have helped. There’s a smile in his stormy silver eyes. “We should tell them we’re awake.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “Probably.”

  The door to our room opens. Paige steps inside, then does a double take when she sees us.

  “They said you weren’t awake.” She grins and rushes forward, throwing her arms around me. Her hair is down, cut into sharp layers, and it’s bleached blond except for the ends, which have been dyed red, purple, blue, green. Basically, all the colors of the rainbow.

  She grabs my shoulders, putting distance between us. “You are the absolute hardest person I’ve ever known to get in touch with.”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” I tell her. “You’re doing okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says, but her voice takes on an odd note. “I’m fine.”

  “You know about the Sight serum? That it might not be fatal?”

  “It’s not,” she says. “At least, not the serum I was injected with.”

  I tilt my head to the side, studying her. “Lee?”

  She shakes her head.

  Damn. I don’t have much love for Lee, but I don’t want him to drop dead. And I don’t want anyone else who injected the serum to either.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her.

  “He deserves it,” she says. It sounds like she’s forcing herself to believe that.

  “Where is he?”

  “At Naito’s. He and Lee are going through some information the vigilantes gave them. Harper and the others captured some fae a while back. They won’t say if they’re still alive or where they’re holding them, but Naito and Lee will figure it out.”

  “They’ve captured fae?” Kyol asks.

  Paige turns to him, smiles as if she’s glad to see him. That’s a change. She’s never liked Kyol. She always said it was because he strung me along.

  “Yeah,” she says, then she nods toward me. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

  “She’s taken care of me.” He squeezes my hand and stands. “I’ll go speak with Lena.”

  “Good luck with that,” Paige says. At Kyol’s questioning look, she adds, “Her schedule is beyond full. Nobles and potential nobles and merchants and I don’t even know who are lined up and knocking on the palace doors.”

  I frown. “How long were we out?”

  “Just two weeks, but we killed and chased off the elari, and Hison immediately put Lena on the throne.”

  “She’s queen?” Kyol asks at the same time I say, “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Yes,” she answers Kyol. “And ‘we’ is Caelar, Tylan, me, and the rest of the remnants.”

  I look at Kyol. “We missed a lot.”

  “Yep,” Paige says. “All the pomp and circumstance.”

  Kyol’s presence suddenly softens, and a tension I didn’t realize was there eases out of the life-bond. It’s startling how different he feels. All that stress and responsibility he’s been carrying around, it impacted me despite the wall he tried to build between us. With it gone . . .

  A gentle, contented smile spreads across Kyol’s normally stony face.

  “She’s queen,” he says, and for the first time in months, there’s optimism in his voice.

  * * *

  THE war is over. We won. We survived.

  My heart thunders in my chest, and there’s an energy, an excitement, under my skin that I need to share. Even my chaos lusters seem to sense it. They zigzag across my body, anticipating Aren’s touch as much as I am.

  I have to find him. I have to hear him confirm that the violence is over, and we have forever to be together.

  I head for his room, don’t find him there, then head for Lena’s apartments. Paige said she was busy, but maybe she’s overseeing his meals and his sleep. He didn’t get much of either because he was watching over me. It’s so damn sweet.

  But
I still can’t find him. I pass through the sculpture garden for the third time. Maybe he’s not in Corrist? He could be at Naito’s or—

  “You looking for Aren?”

  I turn and see Nick sitting on a stone bench.

  “Hey,” I say in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

  “Avoiding the police,” he says, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “They want to know why I fired a gun at my house and left a few bloodied swords lying on the ground.”

  Oh, hell. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t have to let you in.”

  “But you did, and I appreciate it. I didn’t want—”

  “It’s okay,” he cuts me off. “I knew what I was getting into. Plus, she’s happy.” He nods to the left. There’s Kynlee. She’s sitting on the edge of a raised flower bed with Lord Garon, her brother. They’re both grinning, and it’s easy to see the similarities in their smiles. She has a name-cord in her hair. It’s made of bright green and white stones and matches Garon’s perfectly.

  “He’s been cool about everything,” Nick says. He watches them a moment before he shakes his head and straightens. “Anyway, I saw Aren at the training grounds a little while ago. He’s probably still there.”

  I give him a smile. “Thanks, and I hope all of this works out,” I say, indicating Kynlee and Lord Garon. Then I all but run to the training ground.

  It’s a strip of land that lies between the palace and the silver wall. This morning, it’s filled with swordsmen. They’re all wearing jaedric armor that’s engraved with Lena’s seal—the seventeen-branched abira tree. I try to spot Aren, try to hear his voice but the clinks of the practice swords are a steady hum in my ears.

  Maybe he isn’t here. Maybe he’s already left. Maybe—

  “McKenzie!” Aren sweeps me into his arms before I’m able to turn. My feet come off the ground as he spins me, and I hold him tight, clinging to him.

  “Nalkim-shom,” he whispers as he sets my feet back on the ground. He breathes out a thank-you to the Sidhe, then holds me half an arm’s length away.

  My heart flips. Lena must have healed him at some point. His sharp cheekbones and strong jaw are no longer bruised and swollen, and his posture is relaxed. He’s not tense and hunched in pain.