Curse and Whisper

by A J Gala

  Tizzy chewed the inside of her cheek. The conversation was headed exactly where she wanted. “They’re Ethereal abilities. I have no idea how to control them, and it seems all I can do is travel the Ethereal Realm, and only when I’m asleep. I would be lucky to kill anyone with that.”

  “What? If they’re Ethereal, there are tons of possibilities!”

  “None that would harm a fly,” Tizzy growled. “How long do you think I have before Louvita realizes I’m worthless and kicks me out? Or could I stay and be a punching bag like my brother?”

  Eidi sniffled. “If you promise not to kill Torah, I’ll teach you some things, okay? Do we have a deal?”

  Tizzy let a second of silence pass between them, then ran her tongue over her teeth. “We do.”

  Night had fully fallen over the land, but none of it could be seen behind a heavy blanket of clouds. Torah had been on the balcony of Korrena’s room to watch the deep colors of sunset but hadn’t left since. He liked the room, even more so without his sister to occupy it. Louvita had decided to give her something worthy of her strength with lavish décor that appeased Korrena’s twisted heart. Torah was grateful she was away, busy with an unsavory deed in town.

  There was something satisfying about smoking letalis in her room, behind her back.

  Louvita had not offered him a room of his own. He knew why. He knew he was not expected to stay much longer. He exhaled an impressive plume of smoke that was blown away by the wind. He waited a few minutes to take another drag and heard the first patter of rainfall.

  The sound was faint, but he also heard someone enter the room from behind him. It was not Korrena’s haughty, shuffling steps or poignant door slamming to announce herself. It was silent like a wraith.

  Aleth.

  The time had come. Torah sucked in again, deeper than before, but the high couldn’t compete against his anxiety.

  Aleth came onto the balcony with him. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at him. He plucked the rolled-up letalis from his fingers and leaned over the balcony railing, taking a deep drag of it himself.

  “You shouldn’t be doing—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Torah.”

  Torah sighed and threw his hands up in defeat. He leaned against the outside wall, the worn gray brick hard on his back. The rain and dark clouds were muddying the shade of blue overhead. How blue was it? How deep into the night were they? How many stars had come out? He stared ahead at Aleth smoking away the last of his letalis.

  Torah dared to break the silence. “I’m glad you’re back.” He didn’t get a response. He didn’t know that he should have expected one. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

  Aleth spun around and jabbed his finger at him. “I thought I told you to shut the fuck up.”

  Torah gritted his teeth. “Gods, just let me make my peace!”

  “Peace?” Aleth tossed the letalis to the ground and stormed up to Torah. “You’re telling me you want peace after what you did?” He grabbed Torah’s tunic and held him against the wall.

  He searched Torah’s ice blue eyes, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to find. Regret was plastered all over the man’s face. But it wasn’t that. He clenched his fists harder around the fabric. Fear. He wanted to see fear.

  “I looked up to you!” he growled. “I trusted you! And you…” His voice broke, and he slammed him against the wall. “You violated me!”

  Torah looked down at Aleth’s shaking hands. “And that’s why I want to apologize. I hurt you. I fucked up. You have every right to be angry. Whatever it is you’re going to do, just do it! It’s what I deserve.”

  Aleth huffed and narrowed his eyes. “What you deserve.” He released Torah but pushed his finger into his chest. “No. I’m not going to let you have anything you deserve. You want me to take my anger out on you so you can have closure! But you don’t get closure. No, not you.” At last, he saw the fear he wanted. “This will remain an open tear on your conscience as long as you live. Your guilt will rot you from the inside out.”

  Torah had no more words for him and averted his eyes. The shame was unbearable, and there was so much he couldn’t bring himself to say. Not more apologies—Aleth wouldn’t have been looking for them anyway. He supposed what he really wanted to say was an excuse.

  Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn’t. He decided it wasn’t worth it and let Aleth have the last word. Aleth broke away and returned to the balcony, staring out to the horizon.

  “You’re stronger,” Torah told him.

  “I wish you had done it now instead of six months ago.” He drummed his hands on the railing, then swallowed a lump in his throat. “If you had tried it now, I could have stopped you.”

  Torah didn’t doubt it. A ruthlessness had returned in Aleth, and it had come with new strength and new conviction.

  “Korrena.” Ruthlessness suddenly reminded him where he was. “Korrena could be back soon. Neither of us should be here.”

  Aleth turned to face him, shaking his head. “Fuck her, fuck you, and fuck everyone here.” When he left, he shoved past Torah. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

  The day was done. As was the night. Tizzy crawled under the blankets with a book, trying her hardest to relax despite the untrustworthy atmosphere of the Convent. But she was fully unpacked, and her clothes were clean, so she had a small comfort. She opted out of lighting a fire in the hearth and let the rain take center stage.

  She liked being able to read in the dark with her heightened senses. If anything could make being a bloodkin worth it, it was that, she thought as she flipped to her page.

  She hadn’t read more than a couple sentences before Aleth came in. She’d been so distracted by the prospect of reading that she hadn’t sensed him coming.

  She sat up a little. “There you are! I haven’t seen you all day.”

  As per his new trend, he didn’t respond. She tried something else.

  “Maran is staying with Tal tonight. They made fast friends, just as I suspected they would!”

  He pulled his tunic off over his head and threw it to the ground without a word.

  “I see you washed all the blood off yourself. That’s nice.”

  She thought he might be angry—and her stupid remarks were likely only making it worse—but the hollowness in his eyes crushed her. She would have beckoned and told him to come to her, but in the next moment, he was already stripping down, in bed beside her.

  She couldn’t say anything. His lips were on hers, gently at first and then deep and reaching. She wove her fingers through his hair, and his hands went under the blankets to undress her.

  She didn’t dare break the silence. He needed this, needed something. He needed her. He kissed down her neck, and she bit her lip to suppress a moan. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. Their bodies were bare and pressed so close together, she could barely make the distinction anymore. They were becoming one. He ran his hands over every inch of her as if he’d never see her again.

  When he was inside of her, he could have been there all night—the time slipped away and was meaningless. She wouldn’t have known how long it had been, and she wouldn’t have cared, either. She held him as close as she possibly could, feeling the sweat of passion across his skin. His lips danced across her cheek, her jaw, her ear, her shoulder, sending shivers down her spine each time. The rain masked some of their panting, but then she moaned into his shoulder as he brought her closer to her edge. He gripped her thighs tight and kissed her, and his pace became fierce.

  She wouldn’t make another sound, she told herself. She’d stay quiet; she’d keep their beautiful silence. She panted, the pleasure threatening her promise. Aleth buried his face in her hair, and she felt his hot breath on her skin as he panted with her. His hands tangled up in her every which way they could, and with his final thrusts, they reached their edge together.

  He rolled over after a moment, his body shuddering, and he relaxed into slumber. She left the bed to cle
an up, stealing another glance at him. She was sad for him, or at least she had been for a second. Peace finally surrounded him.

  She softened her curls, running her fingers through them to comb out a few tangles before returning to bed. But then she touched her cheek. And then a few locks of her hair. They were damp.

  She settled back into bed beside Aleth. He slept on his back, his chest rising and falling with deep sleep. She leaned in closer and brushed aside his bangs, kissing his tearstained cheek.

  Rori lit new candles in the infirmary, and their erratic flames flickered in a new corner. Cato’s corner.

  Lazarus collapsed into a chair with a sigh, a mountain of blood-soaked bandages on a stand beside him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  “Whatever you gave him, Rori, seems to have worked,” he said. “He’s stable.”

  “With that poppy and julian oil salve, I doubt he can feel a thing.” She rubbed her neck, her own exhaustion setting in. “What’s going on with you? You don’t look much better off than this guy.”

  He scratched his forehead, searching for an explanation. He couldn’t tell her he was harboring a necromantic parasite that sucked the life out of him if he didn’t suck the life out of someone else first. He wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her. But the Maw snapped beneath its bandages.

  “I’m just tired,” he said. “Always tired.”

  “I know you’ve got something under those wraps. It’s not fair to keep me in the dark. I bet everyone else knows!”

  He shrugged. “Not Athen.”

  “Oh, wonderful!” She slapped her thighs. “I’m on the same ship as Athen. No one ever tells him anything!”

  They heard a throat clearing, and Adeska stepped into their corner of the infirmary.

  “Should you be making so much noise around a patient who’s trying to rest?” she asked.

  Lazarus leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “No, you’re right. We shouldn’t. I suspect you’re going to ask to be alone with him.”

  “I am.”

  He took a deep breath and rose. “Is he the one all the fighting was about?”

  “That had better not be a lead-in to a lecture.”

  “No lecture from me,” he said. “Come on, Rori. Let’s go.”

  Soon, the room was quiet and empty of everyone but Adeska and Cato. A draft came and swept through the yellow sheet separating Cato’s corner from the rest of the infirmary. Yellow sheets for the healer goddess Hespera. Adeska dragged her chair to his bedside and sat in silence. Her mind was a fog.

  “Adeska.” His voice was hoarse and cracked.

  “I figured you were awake.” She smiled. “Who could sleep with my siblings babbling on all the time?”

  “I have a message.” He swallowed hard. Adeska winced at the sound, and she stared at the marks on his neck where Centa’s hands had been. “One for you. One for the queen.”

  She held his hand. “Allanis is on her way. The court physician left, and she’s just going through his report. Once she hands it off to Lazarus, she’ll be in. Is everything alright?”

  “Caequin.” He tried to clear his throat. “I came to tell her about Caequin. The high-priest king is training Hunters for Lord-Hunter Cyrus.”

  “Gods, the elves and their titles. High-priest king. If that’s not the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard…” Her words trailed off, and she cocked her head. “How do you know all of this? And how do you figure this is news Allanis should know?”

  “I know the things you need to know. I pick up a lot of information doing what I do.”

  “Which is what, exactly?”

  He closed his eyes and took a moment to steady his breathing. Despite the salve he’d been given, he was still in pain.

  “Spy for hire,” he answered her. “I call it ‘private investigating.’ Better clientele.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds shady.”

  “Shady as hell, but I’m good at it. I found out the Hunters are paying a lot of attention to Suradia lately. Whatever the reason, I figured Allanis would want to know that she should be wary of Caequin.”

  “And what’s your message for me?”

  He rubbed his neck. “Your husband’s an asshole.”

  She held her side and laughed. It felt good to smile completely, to laugh even, despite the pain. She gazed down at the lambent light glinting off his bruised, swollen face. Cato had never had strong features, not like Centa. He did not have his strength, his grace, his alluring darkness and silent charm. But Cato never would have hurt her.

  She would have hurt him. Brutality was a part of her, and that was why she chose Centa. It was a part of him too.

  “You should meet Mariette.”

  “Adeska, you know that isn’t a good idea.”

  Her smile died, and she nodded. “I know.”

  When Allanis came into the room, she did so waving a long piece of paper through the air to make her entrance. Lazarus and Rori followed her in.

  “Well,” the queen began, “yet again, there is another victim of Centa’s in my infirmary.” She held the paper out in front of her. “The court physician left his orders. Lazarus agrees with most of them, but seeing as how Lazarus isn’t actually a doctor—” the glare she shot him was flat, “—he will comply with all of the orders. Right?”

  “Right.” Lazarus took the paper from her.

  “Alright, enough of that. You’re awake!” Allanis pulled up a chair and sat at the bedside. “Cato, it’s been ages since the last time I saw you. You’ve only ever been to one of my parties. You are aware I have them every year, aren’t you?”

  He rolled up his sleeves. “I have a message for you. I ran into someone before I ran into Centa. It’s been a rough trip.”

  In the chaos of the moments following Cato’s arrival, all of his serious wounds had been tended to, but some of the surface ones had gone unnoticed. He showed her one of those very wounds—the words that had been carved into his arm.

  When she read it, her eyes grew so big they could have rolled out of her head.

  Alli,

  Be there soon. Stay safe.

  -Ali

  Rori peered over her shoulder. “I don’t get it. It’s from you, and it’s to you?”

  Allanis stifled it at first, but then she was overcome with laughter. “No!” She grabbed Rori’s shoulder to steady herself. “It’s Aleth! He and I used to call each other ‘Alli’ when we were kids. Then Lazarus heard him say it to me and started calling me that too. Aleth stopped because he said other people doing it ruined it. Made it less fun since it wasn’t our thing anymore.”

  “I wish somebody would have told me that!” Lazarus groaned.

  “Wait, Aleth did that?” Adeska ran her fingers over the scabs, her heart jumping a beat in horror. “Good lords, Cato. I’m so sorry.”

  Rori shrugged. “He’s got pretty good handwriting, though, for a runaway who probably hasn’t written an essay in ten, eleven years.”

  “Could have been worse. Do you know he’s bloodkin?” Cato took his arm away and pulled his sleeve back down. “And that he was at Burshen?”

  Adeska sighed. “And Crana Camp. And probably a lot of other places we burned to the ground looking for the Greater Daemon. And it’s not just him.” She flashed a glance to Allanis, and the queen nodded back at her. “Our sister Tizzy is bloodkin too. Figured if you knew about one, knowing about the other wouldn’t make much of a difference. You have to know, Cato, that everything was just one horrible accident. They didn’t seek out being nightwalkers. It just… it just happened. We’ve been trying to find them, to get them back here to protect them from the Hunters.”

  “If so many Hunters are going to be in Suradia,” Cato said, “it might not be any safer for them here.”

  Allanis started to pace. She tapped her fingertips on her lips, and the others looked on.

  “Peyrs said all of this is Lord-Hunter Cyrus’s doing. That it’s got nothing to do with King Mabus
in Vandroya. And you know what? I believe him. And furthermore, I think Mabus would be relieved if the Lord-Hunter and his ilk were to suddenly vanish and be out of his hair. You could hear it in Peyrs’s voice when he said Mabus had no idea how much was going on.”

  “What exactly are you thinking?” Lazarus asked.

  “Anavelia never misses an opportunity to talk bad about Mabus, but I can’t help but think about how little I know him myself. I think I should reach out to him.”

  “I think you should too,” Lazarus said. “You may lose a little love with Queen Anavelia, but the stakes are getting higher every day.”

  “Alright. I’m going to sleep on it and send a letter in the morning. Good night, everyone.”

  They watched her go, and Adeska patted Cato’s arm, away from the scabs. “We’ll tell her about Caequin tomorrow. This is the first time in a while that she’s been in such good spirits.”

  “I can make an ointment for your arm,” Rori said, turning toward the door. “For the scarring. I’m sure you don’t want Ali’s little note in your skin forever.”

  She left to get to work, and Lazarus left with her. Adeska stayed to look after Cato through the night.

  17

  Debts Paid

  Vayven 21, 1144

  A message carved in flesh.

  Cells void of their captives.

  Adeska’s deep blue eyes, open.

  Black veins against tan skin.

  Rhett.

  Rori had hardly slept at all. Each of the recent incidents took turns with her mind, burning her fears into House Hallenar’s worsening narrative. Rhett, in particular, weighed heavily on her. She’d made him something for his fever as promised, but Madame Blanche had informed her that there was no change in his condition. The old woman was convinced he was faking it. He had spent the whole day mumbling about nothing and staring at ghosts.

  Rori sat up in bed early in the morning, well before dawn. Alor had his own little bed in her room and was sound asleep, which was a comfort. He had probably been lulled by the rain. It was pouring outside, and she could hear it from the halls. As soon as she was dressed, she scoured her books for anything that could help Rhett.