Page 70 of Return of the Darkness
“Do you have healers stationed in the square?” Vigor asked Garridon’s commander. “I need supplies for Elisara.” She was grateful he did not specify her injury as Sir Cain nodded, his expression empty.
“Two months,” Larelle murmured, collapsing into a chair with Zarya, who stared over Elisara’s shoulder to where Sadira sat. “Were we presumed dead?”
“We did a good job of feigning your whereabouts for the first month, ensuring nobody knew you were missing. But things are getting… tense,” Sir Cain explained. “Forgive me, your majesties.” Slowly, Sir Cain rose from his chair. “I am happy to answer all your questions about the kingdom soon, but right now—” Sir Cain’s voice cracked. “I really must assist my queen.”
Larelle and Elisara offered their apologies. Elisara sighed withrelief when Vigor returned with a small vial of stalactite water.
“It’s not much, but if I use it sparingly, it will start to knit your wounds together, so I can stitch the rest. You will need to rest much longer this time,” he explained.
Elisara nodded and reached for Helena, kneeling before her. She squeezed Helena’s hand as the water burned her flesh, though she was quickly distracted from the pain when shouting and cursing sounded from outside the temple.
Chapter Forty-Six
Nyzaia
“What have I done?” Soren yelled over and over, pacing in front of the temple entrance. Trembling, she stared at her blood-covered hands before running them through her hair and tugging at the braids.
“Clear the square!” Nyzaia commanded the row of Keres guards in their blood-red uniforms. They did little to hide their shock or relief as they looked at their queen, wide-eyed. “CLEAR THE SQUARE!” she bellowed again. The guards from Garridon, Nerida, and Vala didn’t wait to see what Nyzaia would make of them if they instead chose to wait for a command from their own rulers and promptly scattered. Crowds filtered into the square to watch the spectacle, murmuring as the guards ushered them back.
“What have I done?” Soren shouted, her back to Nyzaia as she pressed her hands against the exterior rubble of the temple. A crack sounded as Soren punched the rubble, marking the pale stone in a mixture of Caellum’s blood and her own. “She’ll never forgive me.” She punched the stone again.
“Soren,” Nyzaia spoke clearly and calmly, resting a hand on her shoulder. She’d killed a king. The King of Garridon was dead. If Nyzaia had never released Soren from the cells, he would still be alive. Swallowing back her guilt, she focused on Soren to ensure she posed no danger to anyone else.
“No!” Soren shrugged Nyzaia off and resumed pacing, clutching her braids. “What am I going to do? I didn’t mean it! I didn’t want to. I—” Soren screamed. “Itmademe; his darkness made me. What am I going to do? I can’t—I can’t lose her—I can’t be alone!I can’t–” Soren’s breaths and steps quickened as she walked back and forth, beginning to hyperventilate.
“Soren, Iseeyou,” Nyzaia said, approaching slowly. Soren did not respond, but her breaths increased.
“I can’t– I can’t–” Nyzaia clutched her shoulders when she screamed again, grounding her. Soren shook her head. “What if it’s still in there?” she panted, gripping her temples. “I can’t! I can’t–” Soren’s panic was mirrored in her breathing, as she was unable to pause or focus on something, anything. She needed a distraction—something to tug her back to reality long enough for Nyzaia to understand if she still posed a threat. Would this be how Soren was now? Confronting the pain she caused others? Would she apologise for what she did to Kazaar and Caellum? Nyzaia tried to suppress the part of her that loathed Soren, the woman spiralling out of control before her eyes. Deep down, it was not her fault. “I can’t! I can’t. Nyzaia—” The way she had said her name rang through Nyzaia’s mind. It was Soren’s last word as the Queen of Keres grabbed her face and brought Soren’s lips to hers.
Flames flickered on her arms as a jolt of energy sparked through her. Now it was no longer restricted on the Isle of Gods, her power was eager to play. The muttering crowd faded into a dull thudding in Nyzaia’s ears while her back stayed rigid. It had never crossed her mind how Soren’s lips tasted, though she shouldn’t have stood there long enough to figure it out. Soren’s shoulders relaxed as she moved her hands from her braids to graze Nyzaia’s shoulders, and then her waist, her trembling fingers resting on the leather at her hips. Nyzaia counted in her head, listening to Soren’s heartbeat where their chests met. One… two… three…
Soren kissed her back.
Nyzaia’s flames burned brighter, setting Soren’s arms alight, too, like kindling. Soren tasted of the stone fruits native to Keres, the ones Nyzaia had forced her to eat while sailing to the Unsanctioned Isle, but she still smelt like a child of Garridon, like cedar and moss on a rainy day, drowning under her guilt.
“I see you,” Nyzaia murmured, pulling back enough to look into the clear green of Soren’s eyes. The darkness was gone. Only when Nyzaia became aware of her lingering thoughts about Soren’s taste and smell, did she pull back. The Queen of Keres cleared her throat and took two steps back, tucking her hands behind her back. She briefly glanced down before meeting Soren’s eyes, the face of a queen returning. Still, Soren’s hands lingered in mid-air, her lips slightly parted, and her breathing even. Nyzaia had beheld Soren in many lights—stubborn, furious, vengeful, powerful, scared, tearful, loyal—but hadneverseen her shy as she blushed and looked away. An invisible line of tension pulled taut between them in the silence.
“Is it gone?” Nyzaia finally asked, acting as though she had not just kissed the person who helped kill her brother—and worse, not feeling guilty for it. But now, as Nyzaia watched Soren, Kazaar’s face faded to ash. Nyzaia blinked and tempered the fire within as the odd feeling of guilt about Caellum tried to rear its ugly head. Soren closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her eyelids fluttered, as though searching.
“I think so,” she finally whispered. “What is going to happen to me?” Nyzaia heard the slight crack in her voice but avoided looking at her. She glanced around the square instead, where the crowds were pushed further down the streets as the guards glanced between the pair. Her lip curved when Jabir pushed through the crowd, forging a path through the Keres guards. His face was slack, filled with relief. Two months they had been gone, and what did they have to show for it?
“You killed a king, Soren,” Nyzaia sighed. “As Queen of Garridon, it is Sadira’s decision. There is nothing I can do about it.” Soren tilted her head, searching Nyzaia’s eyes. Still, the Queen of Keres could not quite meet the bright green.
“And if it were you?” she asked. “What would you do?” Nyzaia looked back at the temple entrance for a way out of this conversation, for they both knew Soren’s true meaning. Nyzaia had alreadymade that decision when keeping Soren as a prisoner for her role in Kazaar’s death, running blades through her arms during questioning as she lost her mind. Soren knew this—knew what Nyzaia would have done. Yet the unasked question was if she would do it again now, if anything had truly changed between them. Nyzaia turned and strode towards the temple.
“It is not my decision,” Nyzaia repeated, falling into step beside Jabir as they briefly put an arm around one another and returned to the others. She surveyed the room. Elisara sat holding Helena’s hand, wincing as Vigor worked on her back. Larelle sat on the opposite side of the stone table, where a banner of a ship with three sails fluttered in the breeze. The princess sat on her lap, burying her head into Larelle’s shoulder while her mother spoke quietly to Alvan. Sadira’s sobs still sounded through the room as Sir Cain knelt beside her, his head bowed, and his hand on her shoulder. They both leaned over Caellum’s dead body, directly before the mirror at the edge of the room. Nyzaia scanned the room again and sensed Jabir shifting on his feet as they eagerly searched for the same person. Panic rose in her stomach as she rifled through the emotions within, hunting for the quiet presence that was always there, the tie that reassured her of his safety.
“Where is Farid?” Nyzaia asked, trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Soren quietly approached her side, her arms still trembling as she watched her sister with Caellum. Everybody looked around the room as the realisation settled in. Nyzaia turned to Elisara. “Where is Farid?”
Elisara opened and closed her mouth. “I–he was right behind me. He was carrying Caellum’s arms,” she said. Nyzaia turned cold as she searched for their tie within herself. Hurrying around the room, she paused at Caellum’s body directly before the mirror, his hands still touching the glass. There was no space for Farid to have followed through.
“No,” Nyzaia breathed. Sir Cain was quick to move Caellum’s body as Nyzaia approached the ancient mirror, planting her palmsagainst the glass, hard and cold to the touch. She slammed her hand against it over and over, but no matter what force she used, her body did not push through. “No!” Nyzaia shouted, pulling a dagger from her thigh. With a furious roar, she stabbed the tip into the glass, but instead of pushing through to the isle on the other side, the glass cracked.
Nyzaia’s fractured reflection stared back, and she dropped the dagger with trembling hands. Silence filled the room. She no longer felt Farid’s reassurance, but she felt no fear, either. She felt nothing. Turning her hand slowly, Nyzaia held her breath, terrified of what could be missing. She sighed quietly at the mark of their tie on her skin, but knew what the others were all thinking. Despite Kazaar’s death, Elisara still bore her mark. Yet Nyzaia would not accept that as truth. ElisarafeltKazaar die. She would know if Farid was gone. That’s what Nyzaia kept telling herself; he was still alive but trapped on the Isle of Gods. She refused to face the alternative.
Jabir said nothing before he cleared his throat and left the temple, his feet quick on the stone floor. He, too, ran from the possibility that Farid was gone forever. A light hand hesitantly paused on her shoulder.
“We’ll find him,” Soren murmured, and Nyzaia did not have the strength to shake her off. Bowing her head, she leant her palms against the mirror, refusing to let anyone see her tears.
