by Tara West
She fanned away the skunky aroma. Romulus had acquired the habit of smoking the medicinal herbs after losing his leg, and now the pipe was an extension of himself. He claimed it was the only thing that settled his nerves and dulled the ache in his soul after losing so many brothers-in-arms to the menacing leviathans.
Sidling up to him, she glanced over her shoulder, not liking the watching eyes of the other two guards. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
“Of course.” He led her back down the hill toward an alcove.
Heaving several loud sighs, Jade followed them, the pitter-patter of her sandals nearly drowned out by the sound of Romulus’s wooden leg striking the cobblestones, echoing across the walls.
Inside the alcove Romulus ducked to prevent his head from hitting the arch. Jade stayed outside, crossing her arms and looking none too pleased. Ignoring Jade’s grumbling, Kyria looked up into Romulus’s dull brown eyes, noticing new lines drawing down his mouth. He’d lost more of his hair, too. Time had not been kind to a man who couldn’t have been more than thirty.
Her brother brought him home once during leave, but the gentle giant had kept to himself, hobbling around on his makeshift leg and mourning those he’d lost to the dragons a few months earlier.
Kyria’s parents had been upset with her brother for bringing Romulus home, acting inconvenienced by his presence. They showed little appreciation for the sacrifices he’d made for his country. Ashamed of her parents’ behavior, Kyria had done her best to make him feel welcome, helping with daily tasks such as strapping on his leg and collecting his herbals from the apothecary. He’d stayed only a fortnight, hitching a ride to the city in the back of a farmer’s wagon. After discovering he’d found a job at the prison and was living with a family in town, she’d written him often, not minding that he never wrote back and praying her letters brought him some peace. Not until after Alexi’s bonded brothers visited her that fateful night, carrying her brother’s shield, had Romulus finally sent her a letter. From that moment on, they’d kept up a steady correspondence. Though she didn’t want to take advantage of a friend, she was hoping he would remember her kindness to him over the years and return the favor. The child’s life depended on it.
“What has brought you out of your temple so late at night?” he asked, concern marring his wide brow.
She decided to get straight to the point. “I’ve come to inquire about the slave child who was attacked by the dragon.”
He backed up a step, looking uncomfortable while scratching the back of his head. “What about her?”
Wringing her hands together, she looked at him with pleading eyes. “Is it true she will be put to death?”
He grimaced. “Probably so.”
Kyria felt as if her heart had imploded. Clutching her chest with one hand, she braced herself against the wall with the other. “That’s not fair.”
“I know it isn’t.” With a groan he dragged a hand down his face. “Tell me, were you the heroic priestess who defended her?”
Holding back tears, she nodded.
Grasping her shoulders, he smiled. “I knew it had to be you. You have your brother’s fighting spirit.”
“Is there anything I can do to commute her sentence?” she pleaded.
Romulus shrugged, averting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just the jailer. I’m not the decider of fates.”
“Damn.” She kicked a wet pebble against the stone wall. “Who is?”
“The district judge will decide in two days.” His bushy brows drew together. “And he’s none too lenient.”
“There must be some way I can override his decision.”
“The only way is to appeal to the prince. He overseas judicial matters.”
The prince? She’d never even met him. Coddled by the mad king, he spent most of his time secluded within the castle. “How do I do that?”
“I’m not sure you can.” Romulus shifted, darting a glance at Jade. “He’s got his hands full with the rebellion.”
Damn. How could she have forgotten the rebellion? This past summer the Dragon Defenders, the army her brother had died serving, had declared their outpost at the treacherous pass a sovereign city because of the king’s unfair treatment. Though they’d been rebelling against the king on and off for three years, they’d had a tentative truce until their quarrel had started up again. This time they said they would no longer negotiate with the king, that he must agree to all their terms, including recognizing their sovereignty. Among other demands, they said the king must pay them back taxes for protecting the city from a dragon invasion or they would abandon their posts. She’d always thought they had been bluffing. She knew from her late brother and his brothers-in-arms that defenders took their oaths seriously. Then a dragon had breached Sawran’s city walls.
Had the winged dragon been let in by the defenders, or had it simply flown over Perculi straight to Sawran? Either way, she suspected the king and prince had their hands full. If she couldn’t count on receiving help from the prince, then she would find another way to save the girl.
Batting her lashes, she coyly bit her lip, hoping a little harmless flirting wouldn’t compromise their friendship. “What if she were to escape?”
“You know I can’t do that.” His cheeks colored, and his lips thinned. “It would be our necks in the noose if we were caught,” he said sternly. “I might consider risking my own life, but I won’t jeopardize yours.”
Curse Romulus for caring about her! “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “My brother’s legacy will protect me.” At least she sure in ten hells hoped it would.
“Kyria,” Jade hissed, “the guards!”
She spun around to see two temple guards barreling toward them.
“Hey, you two!” one of them yelled.
“Dragon balls! Run!”
Snatching Jade’s wrist, Kyria picked up the hem of her long tunic and tore off, only making it a few steps before Jade slipped and tumbled with a shrill cry, pulling Kyria down with her. Jade landed on her bottom and rolled on her side when Kyria fell on top of her with a grunt. Kyria slid off her friend and looked up at two pairs of angry eyes, blinking back at her from under metal helmets.
Holy Fae farts! They were in so much trouble.
Chapter Two
KYRIA WAS NOT SURPRISED to see Melandris waiting for them with a long line of shit pots behind her, a greater number than were used by the guards. She must’ve nabbed additional ones from every peasant in the square as well.
A triumphant gleam in her droopy eyes, she said, “I had a feeling you’d try to save the slave child, so I had cook serve the guards beans tonight.”
“That woman is pure evil,” Kyria whispered to Jade, but her friend didn’t respond. When she looked over at Jade and saw the tears welling up in her eyes, she felt ten shades of dragon shit. “I’m sorry.”
When Jade refused to look at her, Kyria’s heart sank like a stone. She couldn’t stand the thought of her best friend being angry with her.“I’m really sorry,” she added, her voice cracking like old seaweed.
Jade tightened her expression and still refused to answer.
“I’ll clean the worst pots,” Kyria added sheepishly.
Marching past Melandris, she refused to look the bitch in the eyes. She didn’t want to give the matron the satisfaction of knowing she’d finally broken her spirit. The sight of the pots nearly made her lose her supper. They had to have come from the neighboring infirmary. Fucking cow.
She clutched Jade’s shoulder. “Don’t look. I’ll dump and rinse them first.”
Clucking her tongue, Melandris wagged a finger in Kyria’s face. “You will each do an equal share, but before you start, the king’s guards want a word with you.”
“What for?”
“How would I know? Seems you’re a popular girl.” She let out a shrill laugh. “Rumor of your stupidity has spread all over town.”
THE TWO GUARDS HELD their helmets at their sides and stood as stiff as s
tatues when Kyria and Jade were ushered into the private wine room, which was lit with the pleasing glow of flickering candlelight. The room was soft and feminine, decorated with several low sofas piled with feather cushions and colorful vases filled with fresh flowers. Moonlight shone through the sheer curtains that blew in the portico’s summer air like sails at sea, a sharp contrast to the two beasts standing on the plush rug in the center. Though the space was large, it felt oddly small because of the guards, whose domineering air seemed to suck life out of the room.
They had seen their share of battles, especially the bigger, one-eyed one, who was built much like Romulus. A long, jagged scar dissected the side of his face with the missing eye and disappeared into his cropped, black hair. Instead of wearing an eye patch, he left his raw, empty socket uncovered for all to see. His left arm ended in a gleaming silver hook. His thin mouth was drawn into a deep, acerbic scowl. She imagined it took a lot to make a man like him laugh, like setting a litter of kittens on fire. His friend was a head shorter and had a feral look in his eyes that made her flesh crawl. He had all eyes and limbs, but he was missing an ear.
She stiffened as she walked toward them. These were no ordinary guards. They were ruffians. Jade leaned into her, trembling.
Not one to forget the teachings she’d learned among the priestesses of Kyan, Kyria bowed politely and then tugged on Jade’s elbow, leading her toward the wine server. She grimaced when they set their grimy helmets on the white sofa. “Would either of you gentlemen like a drink?”
The one-eyed giant scowled. “Which one of you is the priestess who battled the dragon?”
She froze in the process of reaching for the wine goblet and slowly turned her attention to the guard. “I didn’t battle him. I only held him off for the guards.”
He made a grunting noise that sounded like a bear waking up too soon from slumber, and sneered at Jade. “Did you take part in this?”
She clutched her throat, her eyes as wide as saucers. “I-I was on the wall. I threw the ladder down to her.”
“You threw it down?” The guard arched a black brow. “So it wasn’t already hanging there?” He shot Kyria an accusatory look. “How did you get to the ground without a ladder?”
“She climbed down the ladder,” Jade blurted, nervously toying with her fingers. “I meant to say I threw it over the wall so she could climb down.”
Kyria’s breath hitched when the guard leveled Jade with a long look. Time seemed to stand still, and it wasn’t until he looked away that she released a slow breath of air. Jade had to have known she had Fae blood, yet why hadn’t she turned her in?
“Did either of you get a good look at the dragon?” he asked.
“You mean his wings?” Kyria blurted.
When Jade gave her a dark look, she feared she’d said the wrong thing.
The guards gave each other sly looks, and the big man’s one-eyed black gaze drifted over her, lingering too long on her breasts before meeting her eyes. “Did you tell anyone else about the wings?”
She vehemently shook her head.
He moved toward her like a cat stalking a mouse, stopping within a breath of her personal space. Grabbing a lock of her long, dark hair, he twirled it around his finger. “You swear on the goddess?”
“Yes.” She tried to pull away but backed into the buffet server. “Why does it matter?” She spoke while trying not to inhale, overcome by the stench of stale wine on his breath.
“That’s none of your concern.” Shadows fell across his face. “You are not to say a word to anyone about the wings, do you understand? If anyone asks, that dragon escaped the coliseum.”
She pressed against the server until it dug into her backside. “You want us to lie?”
His upper lip pulled back in a feral snarl. “You will do as we say or face the consequences.”
She refused to be intimidated. She was Kyria Faustus, sister to their nation’s most cherished fallen hero. He wouldn’t dare hurt her. Would he? “We weren’t the only ones who saw the dragon. What if they’ve already said something?”
He chuckled. “We’ve already taken care of the other witnesses.”
“Taken care of them?” Bile burned the back of her throat. An image of those poor villagers lying face down in pools of blood flashed in her mind.
“They were commoners and easy to silence.” He unsheathed a long dagger coated in dried blood and ran his thumb along the sharp edge. “Because you are temple priestesses, we are showing you more consideration.”
“Oh,” she rasped, afraid to say more. Clutching the counter behind her, she dug her nails into the wood, praying her trembling knees wouldn’t give way. She didn’t dare pull out her blade, for she wouldn’t be able to take down these soldiers without injuring herself or Jade.
“We bid you a good night.” He winked at her with one eye, then slid his dagger under her chin and pressed the blade into her flesh until she felt a prick. “Remember, priestesses, not a word,” he hissed, his hook digging into her ribcage with bruising force. “We would hate to have to snap your pretty little necks. We’d have our way with your first.” The hook crept higher until it cradled the bottom swell of her breast. “It would be a shame for you to die virgins.”
She turned away when he growled like a dragon protecting a meal, squeezing her eyes shut as he breathed hot and heavy in her ear, his rancid breath like a poisonous fog.
Only when the beast abruptly released her, spun on his heel, and marched out the door, his partner following closely behind, did she expel air sharply. Jade steered her to a chair, then wordlessly cleaned her neck with cool water. Retrieving the medicine bag from behind a nearby dresser, she applied a poultice to the cut.
Clutching Jade’s hand, she said, “Did you see the murderous look in his eye?”
Jade grimaced. “I saw it.”
“Hurry up,” Melandris called from the other room. “Those pots aren’t smelling any fresher.”
“Ugh.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she pinched the bridge of her nose in a fruitless attempt to ward off a tension headache. “It’s going to be a long night.”
KYRIA AND JADE WORDLESSLY cleaned several dozen chamber pots well into the night. She didn’t know if her friend remained silent because the stench made it hard to breathe or because she was angry with her. After they retired to the bathhouse, she quickly stripped down and slipped into the steaming water before Jade could get a good look at her long, slender limbs. Not that Jade hadn’t seen every inch of her, including her most intimate parts, but for some reason, she was feeling uncomfortable.
Swimming to the other end of the tiled pool, which bubbled with pockets of warmth filtered in from the volcanic springs on Mt. Olion, she avoided eye contact with Jade as guilt washed over her—not just for the trouble she’d caused her, but also for the cursed blood that ran through her veins. She sat on a bench that ran along the side of the pool and grabbed a scrub brush and bar of soap from the basket on the ledge. She vigorously scrubbed her hands and arms until the rough bristles made her skin raw. She didn’t care. She had to wash off the putrid grime. If only she could scrub away her cursed blood.
She lathered soap in her hair and was surprised when Jade rested a hand on her shoulder. “Close your eyes.”
A soft moan escaped her when Jade poured water over her head, stopping to work out the tangles from her hair, her touch causing gooseflesh to rise. Wringing out Kyria’s hair, she pinned it atop her head and whispered, “All done. Now do me.”
Jade sat patiently on the bench, her soapy strawberry-blonde hair piled high on her head. Jade, with her curves and pale skin, was the epitome of Sawran beauty. Kyria, on the other hand, with her olive complexion and small, perky breasts, was not. She was Fae-cursed and forever would be.
She filled a pitcher with water and poured it over Jade’s hair. She was tender with Jade, knowing her fair skin was delicate.
Overcome by guilt, she stopped after rinsing her hair. What was she doing, touching Jade like this,
and why wasn’t her lover repulsed?
“Why did you lie for me?” she blurted, her voice raw with emotion.
Jade sat up. “About what?”
“You know.” She was afraid to speak the truth aloud.
Jade turned to her, a wayward patch of soap bubbles clinging to her rosy cheek. She looked deeply into her eyes. “They would’ve hung you if they’d suspected.”
A knot of emotion formed at the back of her throat, making it hard to breathe, much less speak. “How long have you known?”
Jade wrapped her fingers around Kyria’s wrist and stroked her long arm. Kyria would’ve had the pointy ears to match her slender Fae bones if her mother hadn’t clipped them during infancy and concealed the scars with dark magic.
“A long while,” Jade answered, looking at her warmly.
Kyria’s heart swelled, then beat rapidly. Could it be that her dear friend knew of her blood and loved her anyway? “And y-you don’t care?” she stammered, afraid Jade would change her mind, or worse, announce it was a cruel joke.
Jade gave her a sideways grin. “Why should I care?”
Shaking her off, Kyria crossed her arms over her breasts and backed away, shame washing over her. “Because I can make you sick.”
“Pshaw!” Jade splashed her with a playful giggle.
She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry at the flippant reaction. When Jade tenderly grasped Kyria’s hands, her expression soft, her heart swelled with joy.
“My parents have a medical book written in the time of the prophets,” Jade said. “We knew Fae Fever existed before they made contact with us.”
She could hardly believe her good fortune. “I thought those books were banned.”
“They were, but my grandfather hid his. The fever used to be called the pox, and it dates back thousands of years.”
Kyria’s mother and father had told her as much, but she’d been regaled with frightening stories from her hometown’s villagers while growing up. That one touch from a Fae could cause a deadly pox that would spread through the town. She’d once loathed and feared the Fae until her mother had told her of her Fae blood on her thirteenth birthday, that tales of Fae Fever were nothing more than exaggerations.