Page 75 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame

‘You were right. This timewillbe different, okay?’ She didn’t want to be a reminder of his pain, but he had to know her heart. If nothing else, they could both hold onto that truth. ‘I swear it.’ Cahra stared into his eyes, not breaking his black gaze.

‘I believe you.’ Hael’s words were quiet, barely a push of air from his lips. ‘I saw your suffering, last we met. You are different from the other Scions, Cahra.’ It took a moment, but he softened as they sat on his robe in his chamber, the temple’s shrine, bound by the dust and demise of centuries past.

Cahra breathed out, relieved. ‘Good.’ Returning his smile, she squeezed his hands. ‘We will find a way through all of this. Together.’

And I will find a way, she vowed, not letting go of Hael. A man, no matter what Wyldaern said about his otherworldliness.

I will find a way to free you. And not just from this tomb.

CHAPTER 30

Her eyes still closed, Cahra awoke to a strangeness in her own body. It wasn’t the bed; every bed had felt different since Kolyath. This was something else. She could feel, smell, the fresh linen of the sheets, coarse against her calloused fingertips as she grazed the flax fibres interweaving to form the fabric.

Hael, she couldcountthose threads.

And she knew things. Like that Thelaema had just hobbled down the hallway and into the glass ball of a room at the other end of the house. Cahra heard the Oracle’s lopsided gait, the creaking groan of the wicker chair as she sat.

Wyldaern’s approach, however, was lighter, although just as distinctive, the Seer’s robe swishing against her sandals as she glided down the hall.

Cahra hadneverhad hearing this good before, and hers was excellent. Was this all part of Hael’s powers, the ones she’d received from their rite?

She sat up as Wyldaern turned the doorknob, its strangled squeak louder than it should have been. The Seer froze when she realised Cahra was awake.

‘Oh!’ Wyldaern said quickly, ‘I didn’t—’

‘Wyldaern.’ Cahra figured they may as well talk, while the abreption strained to hold and her emotions weren’t all-consuming. She gestured for the woman to come in.

The Seer hesitated by the door, fiddling nervously, before stepping inside to shut it.

‘Cahra,’ she began, leaning heavily against the wood, ‘I am sorry.’

‘I know,’ Cahra said quietly.

‘Please, let me finish. If I had known the true scope of what Thelaema was to disclose, I would have revealed that which I did know. No one should be expected to bear what you learned today all at once.’ Her shoulders slumping, Wyldaern moved for the seat beside Cahra. ‘I am so sorry for your loss, and what you had to endure.’

Cahra could feel a crack in the veneer of her abreption’s perfect peace. ‘You don’t agree with your Oracle’s methods?’

‘I would have done things differently,’ Wyldaern admitted.

Cahra said nothing. ‘You can answer my questions now, can’t you?’ The Seer nodded. ‘The vision that led you to me. It was because I’m the Scion, not just a Kolyath Princess?’

There was guilt in Wyldaern’s eyes. ‘So, the Reliquus revealed all to you. Good.’ She fingered her Seer’s pendant. ‘Yes. Thelaema shared it, so that I may bring you here to learn your fate as the realm’s Empress.’

Cahra’s mood darkened at the word, but she let it be. That, she would address with the Oracle directly.

‘And the ‘tell none’? It was because of the white light?’ Frowning, she murmured, ‘Like the crack of light outside Hael’s tomb.’

Again, Wyldaern nodded. ‘If I had required any evidence that you were the Scion, that vision was it. We saw what lies beyond the void’s eternal darkness. It was a confirmation.’ The Seer fidgeted with the bell-like cuff of her sleeve. ‘When I told you to “tell none”, that was because you travelled with others and I knew not how Luminaux’s royals – how Thierre – would react if he, they, knew your true role. I was trying to protect you.’

Cahra didn’t doubt Wyldaern’s words. But the trust between them…

‘I thought we were friends,’ she whispered. Another, bigger crack in her abreption. Piece by piece, her sense of contentment was slipping from her.

Wyldaern clutched Cahra’s hand. ‘We are,’ the Seer said adamantly, looking pained. ‘I did not want this, to upset you after you had already suffered so greatly, all in the name of some long-awaited, fateful obligation. Yet, it is as Thelaema said. I did not see all the facts. Had I told you one thing, and left out core facets that, with such context, would later have been perceived as untruth, would that have been more, or less, helpful to you?’

It was fair. But Cahra couldn’t help feeling tired of the secrets, the omissions, after everything that had happened with Thierre.

Unlike Thierre, however, Wyldaern had warned her, told her there were things she couldn’t say but that the Oracle would. That at least put the Seer above the Prince.

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