Page 79 of Kit
She lay crumpled, half submerged in a foot of water. Lifeless. Her skin had taken on a green hue, like in the few minutes she’d been down there, algae had begun to grow over her.
She was slumped against another body. A man with shiny golden hair. The ‘god’ who had blessed the well centuries ago, and whose blood mixed with the water had kept the council living for centuries. Nick wondered fleetingly what the man was, how such a thing was possible? The council had held power over the well for centuries, yet the body at the bottom looked perfectly preserved, as if he might raise his head and climb right out any moment. There were no injuries that Nick could see, though he’d put money on his death being a violent drowning at Desre’s hands. The bedrock of bones they lay upon indicated he was far from the only one to have met such a fate.
Nick turned away from the corpses and faced Connor, who had reached Adonis and was running a hand over his tail.
“Adonis doesn’t have permission to kill anyone else,” Nick stated.
Connor’s gaze slid sideways. And so did Adonis’s, though his gaze was accompanied by a sneer.
Both looked at Kit.
It felt an age ago, but Nick realised that Connor probably recognised Kit from Vi’s party. Probably realised who had kidnapped him from the house. Kit’s tail lashed as they turned their gaze on him. He stood rooted to the spot where Nick had left him. Waiting. Watching.Trusting.
“He’s innocent.” Nick’s hand snaked out to grab Connor’s arm; he caught him just above the elbow. “Everything he did, he had no choice in; Desre made him do it with her power.”
“Is that so?”
“You’re not allowed to hurt him.”
“Alright.”
Nick scowled, his grip tightening. “And none of that shit you just tried to pull, hiding it. He did everything he could to help me.”
“I see.”
“And –”
Connor covered Nick’s hand with his own; if Nick was hurting him, it didn’t show on his face. “Nick.” Connor made pointed eye contact. “I understand. I’m not going to hurt anyone. Else,” he added belatedly.
Nick stared hard into Connor’s face, but he found no hint of a lie in him and dropped his hand. “Good.”
Nick’s gaze happened to meet Valor’s. Valor, whose manipulations had resulted in the exact outcome he’d hoped for; Nick’s family here, Desre dead. And Nick, very easily, could point out that his final betrayal was the reason Nick had got hurt. The reason he’d had his arm slashed open and, far worse than that, been subjected to Desre’s power.
Valor knew it. Nick saw in his eyes that he knew it, but like when they’d spoken on the riverside, Nick saw his resolution. Valor didn’t regret his actions. Not when he’d achieved his ultimate goal: Kit’s freedom.
Nick turned away from Valor, saying nothing.
He limped to Kit’s side. “Let’s go,” Nick muttered. “I’m sick of this place.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Adonis slid back into the well—a mini disaster that shook the church’s foundations—and disappeared that way while Connor fell in step with Nick. They followed Kit outside, and Nick breathed in deep, glad for fresh air to replace the smell of iron and blood. Mini trotted past them, taking off down a now deserted street with a tail flick in Kit’s direction. Nick watched him go, satisfied that the young kit seemed in good form, no worse for wear after his dip into the well.
“I’m a mess,” Nick said.
“This way.” Kit walked one street over, where three large buildings dominated the entire street. He produced a key for the nearest one and led them through a main hall to a large, luxurious bathroom. The stone floors were all tilted very slightly towards the centre of the room, which held a shining silver drain, and the bath and shower had pipes leading to them from the ceiling.
Nick drifted to the shower.
Kit turned the dials to start the water flow, and Nick, fully clothed, stepped under the spray.
Kit cast a look between Nick and where Connor slowly walked the perimeter of the room, an anxious tic in his cheek. “I will bring you clothes.” Kit took two steps towards the door, only to hesitate and look once more towards Connor. He redirected, grabbed the privacy screen arranged next to the bath and set it up between Nick and Connor, carefully separating them with an intricately woven latticework of dark wood, populated with pale pink blossoms.
“That,” Nick said, “is my brother.”
“All the more reason for the screen,” Connor said wryly. He dragged over a chair and set it a few feet from the screen. He sat, and Nick could just make out his shape through the divide, nothing more. “I don’t want to see anything below the belt. I’d either have to bleach my eyes or let Adonis drown you.”
Nick snorted.
