Page 44 of Crown of Iron
“I don't think siphoning is that simple,” he says, his voice gentle as if he is speaking to a frightened animal. “If it were, there would be no stopping people from doing it and therefore no reason for them to abandon Lucent for Stigian. Many suspect Esmeray possesses a conduit.”
Every word coming out of his mouth sounds so definite, so sensible. I wish I could give in and be satisfied with his explanation, but it only leaves me with more questions. I can't leave this alone until I have all the answers.
“Then how do you explain the way your gift calls to me?” I ask.
“You mean the way your gift calls mine. The way you call to everyone's.”
“I don't understand. What is the difference?”
Kyron licks his lips and looks up at the ceiling. “What you did was controllable. The cravings are not. It's a piercing pain, a burn, and an all-consuming need. Fighting it is impossible.”
I can’t help but to let those sneaking suspicions about him rear their ugly head again. “So then do you still…”
“Fighting it isalmostimpossible.”
He smiles, but I see the pain hidden behind the playful guise, and I feel it in the way the energy trembles between us. Its comforting warmth has been replaced with an empty cold so frigid it burns.
He continues, saying, “The withdrawals are so painful, that to this day, I still feel them wreaking havoc on my body.”
“How old were you when you stopped?” The question leaves my lips on a whisper.
“Six or seven. I don't remember anything before the withdrawal. My first memories are of pain and a recurring nightmare.”
My chest tightly constricts, and sorrow sweeps through me. “You were just a boy. Where was your family?”
“Here. This is my family.”
I can't imagine being so young and without my mother and father. They were the ones who chased away my nightmares and held me until myfears subsided. All the best parts of me come from them. If I didn't have my family, I would be lost. But not all family is by blood, some are by choice.
I understand why Kyron considers this his home. In a matter of weeks, this new family had welcomed me. They have taught me and wanted to see me succeed. I've learned about a whole new side of myself because of them. I like the person they've helped mold me into.
“The pain I felt from detoxing from the power is something I never want to feel again. I'll do whatever it takes to tear the Stigian kingdom apart to save others from it.” The conviction found in the firm tone of his words and his black eyes is astounding. He will do it; Kyron will stop at nothing to overthrow the Stigians. It’s another thing we have in common.
This man who I thought was my enemy has become my strongest ally. I won't take for granted what I know he is capable of. Together, we can finish what I set out to do and then some.
“I'll help you. Whatever it takes, I’ll stand by your side and take down the Stigians,” I say.
The corner of his lips ticks up, and he chuckles. “I've inspired you with my story.”
“You know the reason I want to fight beside you.”
Kyron sits up, and I reach out to press him back, but stop when the sheet falls to his lap. I curl my fingers and bring them to my chest. Scars of all shapes and sizes pepper his chest, and a tattoo of ancient symbols runs down the side of his torso. With the sheen of sweat on his body under the sun's rays, I didn't notice the imperfections when he was chopping wood. Now I see all of him so clearly.
He looms over me, the epitome of the general I met the first day in his office, and says, “Do I know your reasons for being here?”
“Yes?” I mean for the word to sound sure, but I hesitate, and it’s more of a timid question.
Kyron glares at me, folds his arms, and leans against the wall at the head of his bed. “I don't think I do. I've given you my truth. I think it's time you tell me yours, Raelle Mansi.”
I open my mouth and snap it shut. Kyron has never called me by name, and most definitely not by the name I took special care to hide from everyone.
“I—I don't know who?—”
“Stop,” he says, spreading his fingers across his forehead and rubbinghis temples. “I'm done playing games, Your Grace.”
“Please don't.” I lift my palm and swallow past the lump in my throat. “How long have you known who I am?”
“I received a letter from His Majesty about fifteen minutes before you arrived at camp.”
