Page 84 of Spirit Rites
“Hey.” Farrah’s voice is soft as she puts her hand on my knee. “It’s okay. You have enough on your plate; don’t add guilt to it.”
“You have no idea,” I mutter.
I sit in the chair next to the bed and reach forward and take Kaldar’s hand in both of mine. His hand is so cold, and I hate that. “What’s going on, Kinsley? I’m trying to be patient. I really am. But they brought Kaldar here, and he was barely alive.”
My head snaps up at this. “He was barely alive?” My words are barely a whisper.
“And then you guys show up, and they say you’re the Queen now?” She puts her hands up. “I don’t know what to make of any of it.”
I continue to hold Kaldar’s hand, trying to warm it. I stare down at his hand, wondering if I’m making a difference. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about at the beginning?” she asks softly.
I continue to stare at his hand; it feels easier than looking at Farrah. “Everything in the Jaguar Kingdom is so,” I pause, trying to think of what I want to say. “Different. Everything is formal and ritualistic and built on old magic. You already know I had todo the Rites to prove myself, but that wasn’t it. I had to do what’s called the Jade Ceremony.”
“Jade Ceremony?”
“Yeah, it’s basically another test to see if I’m worthy to be queen, Kaldar’s mate, and all that. I passed that, though that was stressful. If I’d failed, I would have been burned alive.”
“What?” she shrieks.
“That didn’t happen, obviously. I survived. Anyway, when it got done, Kaldar showed up. He was beyond furious. I don’t really know how the next part happened. Kaldar’s uncle called for a kind of challenge, called the Reckoning. Oh, Kaldar’s uncle is crazy and has wanted the throne for forever. So, he called this challenge. I guess it was for me; I didn’t even know.” I think about how Kaldar responded at the challenge. “Then he and Taren fought against his uncle and another guy. Okay, here’s where it gets crazy. You ready?”
“Like the rest of it hasn't been crazy?”
For this, I turn to face her. “They each got to choose another person to fight with them. Kaldar chose Taren, one of the guys downstairs. And the uncle chose this other big guy with a scar. During the fight, the man with a scar turned into a guivre.”
It’s silent in the room. “I don’t understand,” she finally says.
I sigh what feels like the world’s heaviest sigh. “Join the crowd.”
“Kinsley, are you messing with me right now?”
I look over at her. “Why would I mess with you over something like this?” I close my eyes a moment. “It was pretty awful. More guivres came. People got trapped inside the arena.”
“Kinsley.” Farrah’s voice is shaky.
“I know,” I say quietly.
It’s quiet, and only the sound of Kaldar’s heavy breathing remains. “Do you think all the guivres are doing that?” Farrah asks.
“I don’t know. It’s terrifying to think about.”
“Did you know the man, the man that turned into one of those things?”
“No, but Jorren and Taren did; and I'm sure others.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Farrah says suddenly.
“What?”
“Do you think this is happening because Terron died?”
I think about her words and think about the man that was the figurehead of the Spirit Trials. His spirit animal was a gryphon, one of the last of his kind. He’d been killed during a battle between Rysden and Farrah and the former king, Rysden’s father. “I hadn’t really thought of it, but it would maybe make sense.”
“The guivres were once part of the dragon kingdom and were cursed. Part of their curse is that they're forever stuck in their animal form. The gryphons were the ones that gave them that punishment. But with the death of Terron, I wonder if it weakened the magic or even released it all together.” Farrah continues to make sense of it all, but I can’t even think of it that way. It was all too much. I close my eyes, just wanting a break for just a few minutes. My night of little sleep is catching up with me. “Kinsley.” Farrah shakes me gently. “You’re exhausted. Why don’t you crash for a little bit. I’ll tell Rysden what you’ve told me, and we can talk when you wake up.”
I don’t even bother arguing. I’m so tired; I can’t hold my head up any longer. “Jorren and Taren?” I ask.
