Page 65 of The War of Wings
Petra’s eyes narrowed for a moment. The tears had evaporated, replaced by a familiar rage. She was disconcertingly silent.
And for being not only a large, imposing man, but a fuckingSaint, Tyrak’s voice was small when he spoke. “I’m bound to his will out of fear he will end her life.”
Petra blinked, her brow furrowing as she leaned in. “Can he do that? Can he kill her? She’s a Saint.”
“We…don’t know,” he breathed, the words mangled and tortured. “In the beginning, when the New World was established, rules were set forth. Saints cannot kill humans. Humans, however, can kill Saints. The rule was made as an attempt to balance power. But Malosym is neither human nor Saint, and he is not bound to the rules of this New World. We simply do not know what he is capable of. And I have no intentions of finding out.” He shifted in his seat, swallowing hard. “Knowing he has her and there’s nothing I can do about it is the greatest burden I’ve ever carried. I’ve had no choice but to do as he says.”
Preserving the life of the Keeper of the Benevolent Saints was a valid enough reason. If the very heart at the core of the Saints were to stop beating, what would happen? But it didn’t quash my anger toward him.
“I tried to do work within the bounds of my fear,” he continued when the silence had gone on too long, his eyes on Petra. “I had a dagger forged for you. I left it for you the morning of Initiation.”
“Youleft the dagger?” she gasped.
“I was hoping the inscription would be a clue as to your lineage.THE MERCY OF KATIAandTHE FURY OF RHEDROSwas vague enough that it didn't violate the terms of the curse.”
One hand pushed through her hair. “When Malosym dropped the dagger back in Eserene, the inscription was gone.”
“He’s nothing if not theatrical.”
My nostrils flared as I stared down at Tyrak. “Why are you in Araqina?” I questioned.
“When Malosym was creating his army in Eserene, I managed to escape. I’ve been holding my breath since then, hoping he wouldn’t make good on his threat and take Katia’s life. Paid for a spot aboard a merchant ship leaving Aera and made my way here. I’ve been scouring the temple since I arrived,looking for anything that might help me work my way around Malosym’s curse to reveal my identity to you. I found nothing, until you three walked through the doors.” Already Tyrak seemed lighter, like each word was an individual weight he was dropping off his shoulders.
“And where is Malosym now?” Petra demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, but there was something defeated in her tone.
Tyrak let out a sigh, deflating in front of us. “I don’t know.”
Maybe Tyrak didn’t know, but Miles did.
I shoved that errant thought from my brain, conjuring up an image of a cliff and watching the thought tumble over its edge, hitting the ground below and shattering into a thousand pieces. I didn’t want to suspect that Miles may have known. Didn’t want to consider such a thought.
Tyrak’s eyes were hard on Petra, his mouth a thin line. “But I know he is somewhere gaining strength.”
“He has drivas,” Petra murmured, her gaze dropping from Tyrak and landing on the tabletop.
Tyrak’s olive skin went ashen, his eyes flying wide as he rose slowly from his chair. “What?”
She chewed on her thumbnail. “When we were flying here from Astran, we were attacked by another driva.”
Tyrak slowly backed away from the table. “He… He always said he wanted to create his own drivas, but the sheer amount of power he would need to do that… He shouldn’t be this strong.” His hands tore through his dark hair, his brows upturned as his head shook. “How is this possible?”
“What are you saying?” I asked carefully.
“He’s stronger than I thought he’d be by now,” Tyrak answered, and his voice was dripping with fear.
Petra placed her hands on the table again, and I recognized the look in her eyes. She was digging deep within herself, the same way she’d done since I met her. Her sights were set on survival, on what we needed to do to make it through this. “Weneed a plan,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “And you have information I’m sure will be helpful.”
“I will do everything I can.”
The Saint of Pain was nothing like I thought he’d be. I’d imagined some hardened, weathered monster. Tyrak looked like… Well, he looked like he wasinpain. Not like he’d be the one to cause it.
My thumb moved back and forth over the pommel of my sword. The sword that was the key to uncovering the identity of the Saint of Pain. The sword I’d carried for years and had no idea the depth of the power once held within the steel. “How did you get away with giving me Aegrabane? How was that even remotely acceptable to Malosym?”
“I told him I could use it to locate you,” he said. “That if there was ever a time you figured it all out and escaped him, I could use it as a beacon and lead us right to you.”
Outrage boiled in my veins. Another way he’d led Malosym directly to Petra. “An invasion of privacy, then.”
“A lie. I cannot use it to locate you. The blade holds no such power. In fact, it holds no power within the Human Realm. Its power is dormant.”
