Page 91 of The Duke and the Disciple

“You can’t force someone to address their trauma.”

“I suppose you would know.” She smiled thinly. “But she’s different with you, since you came to the Cross. She has purpose again. Even when we’re all so worried about matters back home, she’s come alive. So why is this resurfacing for her now? Is it the situation with Val?”

Aesylt disappeared again. Imryll made a frustrated sound.

Rahn stared at the empty spot, the shape of Aesylt still embossed in the dent of the pillows, the wrinkles of the sheets. “I suppose that in order to peel back the curtains wide enough to allow yourself to experience the light, you risk letting the dark in too.”

Imryll frowned, considering his words. “Tell me again what happened when you found her.”

“I was... several paces behind Lord Dereham when he spotted her, and by the time I got there, he already had her in his arms, where she was shaking and... speaking nonsense, fragments of words or thoughts.” Rahn shook his head at the empty bed. “She said something about bonfires, soldiers. She’d wake up long enough to be confused about all of it and then slip away again. Thank the gods she didn’t starwalk when all those men were watching.” He’d had no choice but to let Imryll in on Aesylt’s secret after the first time she’d disappeared right in front of them. “But, Imryll, it was the stack of carcasses.” Rahn breathed deep to recall just the facts, not the way they’d made him feel. “She insisted it wasn’t her who had done it, but the animals were already in a neat pile in the valley when the dressing boys found her. They looked sincerely scared when they told Lord Dereham about it. About the boar, her spear still stuck in his throat. Now the birds, of course, those are easy to move. Even the deer, perhaps, if you balance your weight properly. But the rest? There’s a reason they put those boys in pairs when they go out to retrieve the carcasses. For some game, they even send three.”

“So it’s impossible.”

“I know.”

“But you’re not proposing a more reasonable explanation either. So what are you suggesting, that she has beyond-human strength?”

“Do you remember what I taught you about how people are capable of impossible feats in certain heightened scenarios? How something within us kicks in to protect us or others. It’s how mothers can lift fallen carts off their injured children when under ordinary circumstances, they could barely tilt it. We don’t have a name for it yet, but there are instances of this happening everywhere, all throughout history. No one yet knows why, but we will one day.”

Imryll squinted, then nodded. “What I remember is that the other students didn’t believe you.”

He almost grinned. “Few appreciated my lessons as you did.”

“But Aesylt wasn’t in danger out there, was she?”

“You should have seen the size of Dereham’s guard.” Rahn startled when Aesylt reappeared. He again took her hand, tighter this time, as though it would do anything to keep her from leaving. “But there’s more than one way to be in peril.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered, standing. With a stretch, she glanced out the window, where the thaw had ended as quickly as it had begun. Fresh snow had already carpeted the ground in the few short hours they’d been back. “We had a scout from Eastport today. Tasmin sent a letter to Teleria that she may extend her visit in Whitechurch.”

“Why?” Rahn shook his head.

“She didn’t say. But it worries me. Marius is a skilled manipulator. He handled me like a marionette, and I fear...” She sighed. “Tasmin is wise though. I have to trust she knows what she’s doing. Anyway, whatever my fears about her situation thousands of miles away, we have a bigger problem closer to home.”

“Which is?”

“No one has seen Marek since they reported him having disappeared.”

“Even if he did come here...” He gestured around with his hand. “He’d get no more than a step before he was cut down. You’ve seen the amount of guards Dereham has.”

“If he came in sword swinging, yes.” Imryll turned toward him. “But you don’t know the reason the Barynovs felt so comfortable tossing around the word koldyna.”

“Weak men only know how to engage in weak reasoning.”

She laughed. “It’s because they have a koldyna in their own employ.” She ground out the last word. “And before you ask why Drazhan has done nothing about it, he’s tried. They deny it. We can’t prove it, and if we can’t prove it, we cannot make a public accusation without subjecting ourselves to the same laws he’s trying to hold them to now. But we know it’s true.”

Rahn warmed Aesylt’s hand between his. Every time she’d returned from starwalking that evening, her hands were like ice. “And what could a koldyna do... that a sword could not?” He asked slowly, uncertain if he wanted the answer.

“Koldynas don’t respect any rule of law. They answer to the demon realm. We cannot know what their limits are. We don’t even knowwhatthey are, other than they come from some remote hovel in the Seven Sisters. Presumably.” Imryll crossed her arms with a look down at the bed. “She’ll stay with me tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll talk more.”

Rahn braced even before saying the words. “I’m not leaving her side until whatever this is passes.”

Imryll closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and laughed. “You’re not even trying to hide it anymore, Adrahn. I hope for both your sakes you know what you’re doing. You think because we’re not in the Cross, word won’t reach my husband? That the walls here talk any less than the walls of Fanghelm?”

“If you want me to deny that I care about her, I won’t. But you’re making more of it than there is, Imryll, and I would expect more nuance from you, given how many nontraditional friendships with men you’ve had in your own life,” Rahn said, watching her eyes widen with each word. He sighed, easing off on the unintended chastisement. She’d asked him a question, and she had her answer. He stood. “Drazhan looked me in the eye and made me promise I would keep his sister safe. Aesylt wanted to hunt alone today, and I should have pushed harder to stay together. I could have... I might have prevented this—whateverthisis. When she wakes, I need to be here, not a thousand yards away in a tower. If she needs me, and I’m not here... Well, it can’t happen.”

“If she needs you, and you’re not... Rahn, I mean this as your friend, but are you listening to yourself? The words you choose when you speak of her?”

He scoffed in indignance. “I choose to speak of her as someone who respects her and who has promised not to let her down.”

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