Page 111 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
“No!” I shouted.
“Who else was with you between now and then? Who else could have done this? I left you alone with him and then you show up late, limping, looking like this!” He paused, his good eyebrow lifting. “Gods! That’s why you didn’t want to be rescued on your birthday? You were safer in prison?” His nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling as deep shadows crossed his eyes. He looked feral in that moment, like he was struggling for control, battling some primal desire to hunt down whoever had hurt me. I couldn’t let him.
“Rhyan!” I shouted. The blood oaths in my wrists were on fire. He was too close to the truth. “No! Tristan never laid a hand on me. Not like…not like you’re thinking. I swear on Auriel. He never—would never….” Unless I had a vorakh. Unless I stood in the way of him arresting my sisters for vorakh. I shook my head. “Rhyan, please. Just stop. You’re completely off track, and I need to go out there for the habibellum.”
“Lyr,” he pleaded. His jaw remained tense, his eyes searching mine. Something lifted, his rage turning to concern. “I’m not.” His voice softened. “You’ve been hurt before. You think I wouldn’t know? I see you. I see you hide your injuries.”
“I don’t!” My eyes searching his, desperate, pleading for him to let it go. To forget whatever he’d thought he’d seen. To stop asking questions.
His hands flexed at his sides, fingers curling into fists, then lengthening in frustration. “You wouldn’t let me help you after the first clinic. Gods! I shouldn’t have walked out, I should have known—”
“Rhyan! Stop it! Please! I can’t…we can’t do this right now. The Imperator is watching me! He came to watch me tonight! To test me! You know he’s looking to hold my performance against me in any way he can, and he’s going to use it against you, too! Remember?” Fresh hot tears burned behind my eyes.
He took my chin again, a finger brushing softly over my cheek. “I remember.” He sucked in a breath. “But I’m finding it really hard to care about that when you’re hurt.”
“Well, you need to start caring,” I said. “Because I have no choice. He won’t allow a single excuse.” I straightened my back, trying to summon whatever courage remained inside. “And I won’t give him one.” Not if it could trace back to my sisters. Not when the Emartis had threatened me with Ka Azria that very morning.
A raindrop fell behind Rhyan, landing with a soft plunk on the ground. It was followed by another. And another.
Rhyan’s shoulders slumped. “I hate this,” he said. “I know you…you’re seeing me differently, now you know I’m your guard. But when I swore to you in the Shadow Stronghold that no harm would come to you, that I’d protect you whenever I could…Gods, Lyr, I meant it.” And just as he had that first night, he pressed his fist against his heart, tapping it twice, then flattening his palm over his heart.
My eyes searched his. “You can’t protect me from this.”
He pressed his lips together, his eyes full of determination. “Yes, I can.” Rhyan released my chin, leaning his entire body in toward mine until his breath brushed against my ear. “Do you know the words to call on kashonim?” he asked, voice low. I could feel his heart pounding through his aura, and my own pounded in response, dread drowning me with every pulse, every breath. I leaned back against the cold, damp wall behind me, needing a way to steady myself, to feel grounded.
Kashonim. Calling on the blood power of my lineage to lend me extra strength. To take all Rhyan had and use my body as a conduit for it to flow through.
I shook my head. “I don’t know if it will work,” I said, heart pounding even faster. “It’s too dangerous. It tears through you.” I recalled all the soturi passed out on the ground after the Oath Ceremony. They’d had a rush of power and then none. “I’ll pass out from the force of it after a minute.”
“No.” Rhyan paused, stepping back as footsteps sounded behind him. Shadows filled our corner then vanished. Alone again, he continued, “It only tears through you when you use it all at once. It’s usually meant for big pushes, life or death. But this is different, you only have me. Remember, my lineage was broken. So it’s not that big, and I’m not fighting tonight. I don’t need it. It’s yours. All yours. I promise, it won’t tear through you if you don’t let it. You just have to ration the power. Use it carefully. You can do that. Think stamina, not speed.”
It was the same advice he always gave me about running.
I balked, fear racing through me. I wanted the extra push, the extra power and strength. I needed it. I was tired and limping, and I’d already been beaten up tonight. Even though I was drawing power from only Rhyan and not an entire kashonim, the force of him was so considerable, so full of might and strength, I imagined it wouldn’t be so different from calling on a full lineage. That force might knock me right out and put me in more danger. Not to mention, using kashonim on other students was illegal.
I shook my head. “It’s too risky in front of the Imperator and Aemon.”
“It’s too risky not to do it,” he hissed, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “Not with your injuries.” Another raindrop fell, then another. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you know the words?”
“Rhyan.”
“Answer me.”
“I…”
He held a hand up. “I’m ordering you, as your apprentice. Answer me. Do you know the words?”
“Yes, I know them. But—without magic of my own—.”
“It’s blood magic. My blood is your blood. It’s in your veins, in your armor. I’m Ka Batavia now, you’re Ka Hart. Remember? It’ll work.”
He was right. I knew he was right. The blood oaths mutilating my arm had proved it. I had no magic, but I was still touched by it, still bound by its manipulations.
“But what about all the maneuvers I haven’t mastered?” I still wasn’t great at sparring with just Rhyan. Now, I wasn’t just going to be fighting one person, I was going to be in the center of a five and then released into a habibellum with all of the novices at the University intent on attacking—attacking me, in particular.
“Focus on getting away. Evading like before. Not fighting. You’re not trying to impress the Imperator with your moves—you’re trying to survive. And you’re going to. Use the extra push from my strength to escape the first five. Then find your friends and stick close to them—they’ll protect you.”
“Apprentices,” Aemon called, “to the sidelines. Novices, take your positions.”
