Vulture

by Rhiannon Paille

• • •

  Krishani took the steps two at a time, slipping on the rungs as he fought to grip the railing. He roared at the snow as he reached the platform and skidded across it, stopping himself on the doorframe. He was out of ideas and sick of concealing what he was from her. He needed her in a way he couldn’t even explain anymore. Of all the bad things he’d faced alone and all the bad things she’d faced alone, this was something they needed to face together.

  He pushed the door open and shock hit him. Traveling sacks sat on the bed, stuffed full of dresses and cloaks—all her things, none of his. The box with the birthstone sat on top of the bag. He stared at it for a long time. His things were piled on the desk and in the wicker chair in the corner. He caught her eyes in the mirror, but she wasn’t looking at him. She looked frazzled. Her hair was disheveled, her cheeks red and wet with tears, her eyes puffy. They weren’t even green anymore. They’d faded to the gray he saw in Aulises’s eyes when he first found her on Amaltheia.

  She ripped open another drawer and it clattered onto the floor. She shrieked and cursed, balling up her fists in frustration, grabbing clumps of her hair as she let out another sob.

  Krishani didn’t know what to think. He was livid. Shimma made a grave mistake in leaving Kaliel and Pux here to die. He slammed the door and stalked into the middle of the cabin, his arms folded across his chest, his mismatched eyes blazing at the girl he loved.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, not caring how harsh or upset he sounded.

  She whipped around, her face full of terror and shame. Her grayish eyes found his, and her mouth opened but she didn’t speak. She glanced at the bags and at him, anger in her eyes. “I’m leaving.” Her tone was timid.

  Krishani recoiled in disbelief. He shook his head imperceptibly as he backed to the door, pressing his back against it. “I won’t let you.”

  She looked helpless, conflicted, confused. She dropped the nightgown she was holding and bunched her hands into fists, pressing them against her temples. “You can’t tell me what to do.” She glared at him, and he saw it, the Flame in her rising to encompass every part of her. Her aura flared and jagged lines of white in her eyes sparked through the liquid amethyst. He didn’t know what had gotten into her or why she was doing this to him.

  Krishani narrowed his eyes to slits. “I’m not letting you leave.” He wanted to hold her, make all of her dark emotions fade away, but he was shaking with anger of his own. Part of him wanted to crush the pain out of her, force her to be the girl he once knew.

  She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Get out of my way, Krishani.” The way she said his name, low and menacing, made all the whispering in the back of his mind intensify. He shot a venomous, cold look at her, refusing to move.

  “Not until you tell me why.”

  Blinding pain raked across his cheek as she crossed the floor lightning fast and smacked him so hard he almost fell on the floor. He tasted blood in his mouth and swallowed it down, straightening up to face her, completely unable to fight back. He didn’t know why this was happening, how in the blink of an eye she could change.

  “You’re a liar. You promised …” she hiccupped as she sunk into the floor. Her fingers were curling around clumps of her hair and she pulled tight.

  His cheek throbbed as he rubbed it with his uninfected palm and thought about everything he’d promised her. He’d promised Crestaos was dead, he’d promised the Valtanyana weren’t coming for her, and he’d promised her a happy ending. Guilt sang through him as he stared at her, broken and fragile.

  “I didn’t—”

  Her head snapped up, her face full of fury. “You didn’t think I’d find out? You didn’t think I knew about Morgana? Cassareece?”

  Krishani frowned. “Who’s Cassareece?”

  Kaliel stood and moved to the traveling rucksacks on the bed, pulling the drawstrings taut. She wasn’t looking at him anymore. “You didn’t think I’d find out about the Vultures?”

  Krishani blanched, his pulse hammering so loud he felt the pulse in the palm of his left hand. He wanted to take it all back, wake up with her on the battlefield and warn her about the impending war. He should have said something, anything. He hung his head. “I wanted you to be you.”

  Kaliel seemed stricken by his words. She reached for the rucksack and threw it over her shoulder, taking a step back. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “What?”

  “I have to leave.”

  “And sacrifice yourself again? I won’t lose you—I can’t lose you.” He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss every inch of skin until she trusted him, until she understood everything he’d done to protect her. He winced as he felt the mark of the Vultures crawling across his skin, spreading faster than it ever had before. Without her, he had no hope—he’d let go, he’d give in, he’d let them have him. He glanced at the small window above the desk in the corner, nothing but trees and sky visible through the tiny square. People were dying, and he couldn’t stay with her but he couldn’t take her with him knowing the Valtanyana were out there.

  She gritted her teeth, her arms folded across her chest. “I’m not yours, not anymore.”

  Krishani lost it. He crossed the floor and pulled her to him, forcing his lips to find hers, but she struggled against him, turning her face so his lips fell on her cheek. He made a trail down her neck, tasting her pulse under his tongue. “You’ll always be mine. You belong to me,” he whispered.

  She let out a cry and wrenched herself out of his grip, trying to move around him to the door. He caught her by the waist and, without realizing how strong he was, thrust her across the floor. She hit the scattered dresser drawers, her head smacking the wood hard. He gripped the doorknob, ready to storm out of the cabin, when he took one last look at her. Blood covered half her face. It seeped through her fingers as she stared at him, shock coloring her expression. She went to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.

  Krishani thought of Desaunius and the time at the Elmare Castle when he’d hurt her. He never meant to hurt Kaliel but he couldn’t listen to her blatant accusations, her pain-filled laments. He couldn’t admit she was right about everything he’d done wrong. He ripped the door open, the hinges whining as a gust of chilled air stung his face.

  “I can’t leave you, but you’re leaving me?”

  He heard her strangled voice behind him and turned a fraction of an inch to face her, his hand lingering on the door. “I have to help the villagers.”

  “So you don’t become a Vulture, right?”

  Krishani’s eyes widened. She knew. His stomach dropped. “Aye …” She didn’t say anything, and he went to leave but stopped in his tracks, his foot hovering over the threshold. He didn’t look at her. “If you’re leaving, be gone before I return.” He thrust himself into the cold and clamored down the steps.

  • • •

  Kaliel fell on the bed, her back pressed against the traveling bags. She was numb. There were tears to cry because she couldn’t bring herself to blink, breathe, or think straight. She was shocked, unable to react to what Krishani had said. The way he spoke to her, his volume, and his strength all scared her. She didn’t belong to him, not in that way. She meant to break his heart because she was exiled, but she hadn’t meant to let him break her heart. She called him out on his mistakes, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Betrayer.

  It was over. He wasn’t coming back, and even if he was, he didn’t want her there. She’d raised the magic, she’d caused the storm, and she was the reason all the villagers would die. It didn’t matter because Krishani wasn’t hers anymore. Self-pity welled in her chest as she fell onto her back, incapacitated. Aches ran the length of her arms and legs, a lump formed in her throat, and moth-sized piranhas attacked her stomach.

  She couldn’t let him walk out on her.

  Not without knowing the truth.

  Tremors dug into her bones and tears stung her eyes but she pulled herself to her feet and m
ade it to the door. She fell against the frame and closed her eyes. She sucked in a breath and threw the door open, the coldest gust of wind hitting her face. Her slippers slid on the sheets of ice covering the porch. She tried to get down the stairs. Her feet slipped, her body slamming onto them. She landed on the ground, sprawled out, her back aching from the fall. It was nowhere near the worst pain she’d ever felt. She forced herself to her feet and ran, limping towards the main road. She’d check the castle first, then the barn and the stables. She checked off places he might go when she reached the main road and glanced at the gates. They were wide open, and beyond them, Kaliel saw the clear sky littered with ribbons of orange and pink.

  Sunset.

  It was sunset.

  She grabbed her skirt and ran, crossing the threshold, slowing when she found Krishani.

  He stood in the middle of the field in nothing but his tunic and breeches. He had his back to her, his eyes on the streaks of light in the distance. His arms stretched out, the cold licking at his fingertips. She tried to ignore the disease on his right hand as she approached, wanting to put her arms around him one last time, but her legs gave out before she reached him and she let out a loud sob.

  He whipped around, his mismatched eyes full of confusion. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

  “I took the Flames,” she cried, a lump forming in her throat. “I took them and I gave them to the Valtanyana.”

  His eyes widened as he crossed the distance between them and pulled her up by the wrists. His eyes searched hers, but he wasn’t angry anymore. “Why?”

  She hung her head, bile rising in her throat. “Because …” She didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true.

  “Why?” Krishani roared, shaking her hard.

  Tears escaped her eyes as his fingers dug into her skin so callously she cringed. She forced herself to meet his eyes while trying to push the words out of her mouth. “I hate what you are.”

  He dug his fingers in deeper and she gasped at the pain. There were tears in his eyes. He cupped her face with both hands. She knotted her fingers in his tunic, desperately wanting to pull him against her, feel the last burning energy of their love before it died out with the force of the storm. He didn’t respond and she got scared, her heart dropping. He didn’t kiss her, didn’t let go of her; they were locked in limbo.

  “Do you hate me?”

  Krishani chuckled without humor. “I could never hate you, Kaliel.” She remembered the first night they spent in the cave behind the falls. She grimaced in an attempt to smile, but the cold curled around them, gaining fortitude. The wind picked up and snow showered them in heavy, wet flakes like thousands of tiny white flags of surrender. She hated the inches between them. The Flame burst, the violet aura lighting up the sky, her eyes snapping to liquid amethyst. Wisps of violet light reflected off the snowflakes, turning them a white violet as they rained down. She closed her eyes and went to lean into him but he held her at bay. She opened her eyes, scared of what he was going to say. Fear sent shockwaves through her as she waited. He brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb thoughtfully, savoring every last memory of her.

  “I can’t stop this.” He gestured to the black marks crawling down his left arm. They snaked up his neck, spider-webbing into his cheeks. Her eyes filled with horror as he glanced at the sky, and she knew what was on the horizon.

  It wasn’t the Valtanyana.

  She tightened her grip on his tunic to steady herself. “Ro tulten amin,” he whispered, melancholy tainting his words.

  She glared at him, frozen in fear. “Tell me I can stop it.” A whimper rose from the back of her throat, and she fought to hold in her fear. Her stomach roiled. He was dying, and it was all her fault.

  The cold closed in, frostbite pressing into her bones. She cringed at the sensation of ice filling her body, fighting against the heat of the Amethyst Flame. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate hard enough to heal him, hard enough to stop the mark from spreading, changing him. He pressed his cheek to her cheek, his lips near her ear.

  “You can’t.”

  She didn’t think she could feel worse, but he pulled back, his eyes full of shattering terror, and kissed her harder and more passionately than he ever had before. He wound his fingers into her hair and broke the barrier between them, pressing his body against hers. She let go of his shirt and wound her arms around his waist, crushing him to her as hard as she could. His lips moved along hers. The mark was spreading, the Vultures covering them in a thick cocoon until she couldn’t feel him anymore. She kissed him as his body disintegrated in a fanfare of icy darkness. She kept her lips pressed firmly to his until his hands left her, waving away in the violent wind.

  She pitched forward in the snow, unable to hold herself up, and rolled onto her back. It seemed subtle to her, but a sonic boom erupted from the inside out, and in that moment the storm doubled, the temperature plummeted, and the land froze over. Her amethyst eyes stared at the sheets of snow. Her lips buzzed with the feeling of his last kiss, a kiss she didn’t deserve. Self-hatred pooled into her, burning worse than she imagined, hurting more than anything she’d ever felt before. Her mind circled around one thought. Cassareece gave her exactly what she wanted, exactly what she wished for.

  Krishani wasn’t a Ferryman anymore.

  * * *

  43 - The Golden Pocket Watch

  The snow was cold on her face. Cold and terrible, it covered her, buried her in the depths of her own faults. She couldn’t see the sky from the storm anymore. He was too late. When she’d made the volcano explode, he wasn’t there. Rock and molten lava shot into the sky, memories behind her liquid amethyst eyes.

  She’d betrayed them.

  She’d betrayed him.

  She’d betrayed herself.

  She’d destroyed the only thing she’d ever loved.

  Her fingers turned blue and purple as the cold worried at her fragile body. Frost gathered on her fair skin and numbness burrowed into her bones. Her vacant eyes remained open as it happened, the cold inching up the sleeves of her black dress, pressing into the last of the warmth she held inside herself. It nipped at the Flame, threatening to snuff it out forever. She let the cold crawl into the knots in her stomach, let it pour through her veins, let it stop the only noise beating in her ears—the traitorous sound of her heart.

  The girl she used to be was far away, lurking in the depths of a wondrous place she could never call home. Her days of talking to trees and blooming flowers seemed blissful. And days of lips and hands and hips pressed against her seemed unjust.

  The unnatural wrath of the Valtanyana was unstoppable. Nothing but the utter surrender of everything she was would hold them at bay.

  Her skin burned as the cold pressed in deeper, winding its way into her nerves. It made her feel like she was on fire. The Flame inside was fighting against the currents of destruction washing over her. It was only now as the cold rushed through her veins that she saw how impossible it had been from the beginning.

  The trees were right; it was never meant to be.

  The Valtanyana treated her as though she were a thing—a candle in the darkness, a talisman of ancient power, a cauldron of wealth. She was worth more without her eyes, her limbs, or her beating heart. And they were willing to take those things away from her. They wanted to turn her into their weapon.

  Silent and obedient.

  Destructive and vengeful.

  She drew a shaky breath, tasting the cold in her lungs. It made her gasp for breath. She found the last bits of air in the dead of the storm. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, stinging her face as frostbite hardened into a river of ice. She faded in and out of consciousness, death so close she felt it on her blue lips.

  There was a reason the Valtanyana lusted after her with an insatiable hunger. It was incomparable to the way they sought the other Flames. They had a sick, masochistic obsession that drove them to covet her. It wasn’t until she
was clinging to Krishani, begging him to tell her how to help that she understood why.

  She was the weed, a weed that grew from the inside out, hiding in the cracks of her Flame. Icicles formed on her eyelashes, and her eyes blazed with the fire of the Flame. All of its essence was drawn into her irises. They burned with the last truth she would ever hold, a truth that would haunt her until she could make things right. She longed to go back to the beginning, to relive the life she had before the cold poured into her veins, stripping her bare, leaving her naked and judged.

  She needed to remember who she was before she killed him.

  • • •

  Footsteps crunched the snow, flat traction-less shapes of soles appearing in the flaky whiteness. Tor neared the girl, her eyes frozen open, the liquid amethyst locked inside. Her arms were splayed at her sides, fingers curled inwards, ice encrusted to the outskirts. She was a beautiful blue angel—lips bruised purple, cheeks pale blue. He sighed at the sight of her, life still pulsing through the shell of a dead body. The storm waned considerably, the sky a light gray, the air moist with wisps of soft flakes. He crouched at her side, brushing snowy curls of black hair out of her face.

  She was the one thing he counted on in his hour of dire need. And she was broken. He thought about the prophecy from the First Era. Without the Amethyst Flame and the Tavesin Ferryman, the Lands Across the Stars would always war. Their union was a fragile paradox. On the one hand, their love would win the war to end all wars.

  On the other, their love would destroy everything.

  He wasn’t sure where he would go or what he would do. The Valtanyana would strike, and she wouldn’t be there to fight them. She’d made her choice and she chose them. He didn’t have hope anymore.

  Kaliel had failed.

  He pulled out a golden pocket watch and opened the face. Below the glass plating were symbols. They weren’t human symbols, but they mimicked them. He heard the tick-ticking above the whistling winds rippling across the surface, kicking up snowflakes, forming them into dunes. The storm may have moved on, but it left a thick sheet of ice over everything that used to live there. It would take years for the land to repair itself, for life to bud amidst the endless winter.