Page 47 of Brimstone
Lorreth barely even looked at it before thumping me in the shoulder. The resulting pop and twist of my arm slipping back into place made bile rise up the back of my throat. I glowered at him through watering eyes. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome. Now, come on. Guard.”
“I can’t lift this damn sword again. Not for at least ten minutes. I think I’m gonna puke.”
Mouth open, he was going to try bullying me to my feet again, but his eyes met mine and something in him softened. He took pity on me. “All right. You get five minutes. Take a breath. And . . .” Suddenly, he sounded awkward. “I know you feel bad, okay? Useless, even, stuck here in this shitty fucking palace while everyone else is out there without us. Ren’s warning the Gilarians. Danya’s orchestrating efforts to keep the infected at bay. Fisher and Carrion are scoping out whatever they can in Zilvaren while they hunt down the silver and your brother—”
“Oh,gods!” I cried, an awful realization striking me out of nowhere.
Lorreth’s eyes grew round. “What? What is it?”
“He made you promise to stay here and watch over me, didn’t he?”
Immediately, Lorreth’s expression went blank.
“He made you promise to stay and protect me!” Gods, I wassoblind. “That’s the only reason you’re trapped here in this training room with me, isn’t it? Otherwise, you’d be out there with everyone else, doing something useful, too!”
After hashing out the finer points of our plan, we had each set off about our individual tasks. Te Léna and Maynir had gone to tend to the wounded among the warriors who fled Irrín. Iseabail had returned to her people to askpolitelyif any of the witch elders knew how to seal Alchemical runes. Ren had ridden out to the small settlements east of Cahlish and along the coast to warn them of the rot. With what was left of the war camp at her disposal, Danya was sending out hunting parties to keep the infected at bay or at least keep them from progressing inland any farther.
The plan was to all meet back in Cahlish in three days’ time, come what may.
ButLorrethhad claimed he wanted to stay here and help me train.
He was incapable of lying; he probablydidwant to help me train. But I would have bet my left eye that he’d rather have been out there with Danya, tackling the infected instead. The warrior shrugged off my accusation, trying to feign ignorance.
“Don’t you worry about any of that. All you need to focus on is keeping these vampires distracted and figuring out your runes.”
“Lorreth!”
“All right, all right! I’m not going to confirm or deny your suspicions either way. But if you don’t kick up a stink right now and you finish training with me, Iwilltell you the story of Ajun Gate. All of it, every single gruesome detail.”
“I know the story—”
“Hah!” Lorreth grunted. “No, you don’t. Do you know about Merelle?” he demanded.
Merelle. The name was familiar, somehow? Maybe? I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”
The tension in Lorreth’s shoulders fell away; he knew he’d already won. “Merelle was Ren’s sister. She died on the side of that frozen mountain, and none of us have been the same since.”
“Tell me.” Now that he’d mentioned her, Ihadto know. “Ren had a sister?”
“Not just a sister. Atwin. . .”
I was already back on my feet, the pain in my shoulder forgotten. I raised Solace, but Lorreth let out an annoyed groan and batted the sword away before I could adopt a defensive stance.
“Y’know what? On second thought, if we’re talking about Merelle, we shouldn’t be fighting at the same time. We should be doing the next best thing.”
I had a feeling I already knew what Lorreth was going to suggest next, but I still had to ask. “What’s that?”
“Drinking, of course. Come on. These blood suckers are too fancy for beer, I’m afraid, but theyreallyknow their wine.”
What had I expected? An armed escort through the palace? A crowd lining the streets, cheering me as I passed? No, of course not. That would have been ridiculous. But I hadn’t expected Lorreth to toss a cloak around my shoulders, yank my hood up, and bully me out of Ammontraíeth without anyone stopping us or saying a word. That just seemed tooeasy. Though I hated it, I was getting used to residents of the Blood Court kneeling whenever I passed them in a hallway or entered a room. With my hood drawn up tonight, my reluctant subjects didn’t recognize me for who I was, and so I slipped out of Ammontraíeth unmolested.
I knew there were buildings outside the palace. Lots of them. I could see them from the balcony outside my bedroom.I hadn’t paid much attention to them, though. When I stood out on the balcony at night, my attention turned northward, across the barren plains that stood between me and my mate, and not down at the hub of activity that bustled around Ammontraíeth’s feet. The Cogs—that’s what Lorreth called the circular, interlocking neighborhoods, each connected by a steep downward staircase until they reached street level.
Rain hammered on the rooftops of the narrow buildings, sluicing over slate and pouring from cracked clay gutters onto the cobbled streets. We cut through the second tier of the Cogs—an area frequented by blood mages, the lich-born, and outcast paladins looking to trade questionable goods, according to Lorreth. Shadowy courtyards waited down narrow covered walkways that branched off the main thoroughfare. Brick-built shops with crooked roofs and windows fogged with condensation advertised tinctures, tarot readings, and familiars for sale.
As we walked, Lorreth held true to his promise and told the tale of the Ajun Gate. I was the only one who remembered the song he’d once sung about that terrible night on the mountain, but eventhathadn’t covered all of it. Renfis’s poor sister Merelle had burned to death in the most horrific way, and Ren had been there when it had happened. She lived on in a small way, part of her spirit bound to Fisher’s sword, but . . . it was hard to imagine how her loss had affected the band of warriors.
