Page 24 of Brimstone
Taladaius took a closer look, peering into the bag of heads. He wrinkled his nose. “Honestly, I couldn’t say. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this before.”
You’re coming back to Cahlish with me, Little Osha.
Was I ever going to get used to the sound of Fisher speaking into my mind? His voice was so close, as if he were whispering right into my ear. My skin broke out in goose bumps in an instant.
Oh? I thought I needed to stay here?I answered.
A tiny frown formed on Kingfisher’s handsome face.No one will know you’re gone. We’ll have Tal tell them all you’re engaging in blood-fueled orgies all day. That’ll convince them to think you’re making an effort to fit in.
I was aware that Lorreth was explaining something to Taladaius about the feeders absorbing Ren’s power.AndKingfisher’s.
I looked to him, startled, but before I could say anything he quieted my worry.It’s okay. We both felt off, but we slept a while and Te Léna worked on us. We’re fine now.
This was hard, loving him. I’d barely slept a wink all day, worrying about him. Some deep, unsettled feeling inside me had told me something was wrong in Irrín. I hadn’t pursued romantic connections back in Zilvaren, though I’d had plenty of opportunities to do so. I’d had responsibilities. Keeping Hayden out of trouble had been a full-time job, for one, and then there had always been the problem of keeping food on the table and water in our bellies. Developing a relationship with somebody would have been a fool’s errand that would have distracted me from the business of survival.
But this was nothing like that. This . . . was two stars colliding. The end of everything and the beginning at the same time. The idea of forming a relationship with someone back in Zilvaren was trivial in comparison to this. Fisher waseverything. I was attuned to him. I could feel the shifts in his moods like the ebb and flow of the tides that I had read so much about, and worrying about him while we were apart was enough to drive me mad.
I had to admit, the idea of leaving with him and returning to Cahlish rather than Irrín, where we would be able to sleep in a warm bed and have some privacy, was appealing. It would halt my thoughts from racing, even if it was only for a night.
Okay. I’ll take your word for it. And yes, I’ll come back there with you tonight. But on one condition.
Kingfisher arched an eyebrow at me.Oh? Making demands, are we, Your Highness?
He was teasing me when he called me that, but I didn’t like it. I didn’t want there to be any greater a divide between us, and the fact that I was now half vampire was already causing issues. I could stand to be out on the terrace in the early morning daylight, but not for long. Once the sun was high overhead, I found myself exhausted to the point of nausea, and I couldn’t bear the direct light on my skin. I could still eat, but my appetitefor food was much decreased, which I hated. And I could deny it as much as I liked: I didn’thaveto feed to survive the way Taladaius and the other members of the Sanasrothian Court did . . . but Iwantedto. Since I’d awoken, a vague curiosity had slumbered within me, and now that I had fed from Fisher, it seemed to have stirred and was stretching its legs. Even now, my throat felt scratchy, as if I was coming down with a cold.
Technically, I represented everything Fisher detested . . . and I was a queen now, too? My mate’s disdain for royalty was understandable. My home was ruled by a tyrant queen. Zilvaren suffered every day because of Madra, but Fisher had also experienced pain at her hands. Madra had closed the quicksilver portals and taken his father from him. Not to mention that the Yvelian throne had been stolen by King Belikon, who had tortured Fisher his entire life, and then Malcolm, ruler of the Blood Court, had come along and thrown him into the maze. It made perfect sense that there would be a sharp edge to his tone when he said the wordsYour Highness. But hearing that edge in his voice when he spoke to me? That hurt more than I cared to admit.
I did my best to cast the niggling sensation in my stomach aside.I suppose I am, I told him.Don’t worry. I’m not asking anything too unreasonable. At least, I hope I’m not.
Go on.
I want to train properly. With you. Our time at the Blood Court isn’t forever. I am not theirrealqueen. I have no interest in flouncing around Ammontraíeth, pretending to lord it over my reluctant subjects. I need to stay fit, and I still need to learn how to wield Solace properly. The sword is so heavy, I can barely hold it.
Fisher didn’t even bat an eyelid.Done. Though you might want to train with Lorreth, if youreallywant to learn.
Why not you?
He gave me the faintest look of reproval, as if I should already know the answer to this.I can run drills with you, Osha. I can raise a sword to you and pull my blows. I can show you footwork and teach you about warcraft. What Icannotdo is attack you like it’s real. And that’s what you need, if you truly want to learn how to fight with a sword. The stakes must be genuine for you to learn how to think and react under pressure. And I will never come at you with everything I’ve got. You are my mate. I’m in love with you. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to. Which . . .he added softly,I do not.
“Are you two even list—urgh! They’re not even listening.” Carrion was on his feet, standing over the bag of heads. Lorreth watched him, dark eyes full of amusement, apparently trying not to laugh. Taladaius had rolled one of the heads out of the bag and was inspecting it closely while studiously ignoring Carrion. How he managed it, I would never know. It was as if he could completely tune him out.
I felt a frisson of annoyance rise in Fisher, though he didn’t show it outwardly when he addressed the smuggler. “Apologies, Swift. You have our full and rapt attention. What seems to be the issue?”
“I was just going to point out that there is something else worth noting about these feeders,” he said tartly. “But if no one’s interested in hearing what that is—”
“Just spit it out,” Fisher commanded.
“Well, I mean, I haven’t spent a great deal of time studying feeders, but—” He shoved another slice of apple into his mouth as he bent over the rotting heads, squinting at them. At least he finished chewing before he finished his sentence. “From what I can recall, they normally come from Yvelia, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Lorreth answered.
“Well, these ones are from Zilvaren.”
“What?”I took an involuntary step forward. “What are you talking about?”
“Are the feeders normally marked here? Tattoos and the like?” Carrion asked.
Taladaius looked up, turning his stoic gaze upon Carrion. “Some slaves are branded when they’re turned, yes, but most members of court don’t bother. Feeders are bound to the high blood who made them, no matter what. They will only obey their sires. They have no choice in the matter. Runes and tags of ownership are never required since dead-stock cannot be stolen.”
