Lichgates: Book One of the Grimoire Saga (an Epic Fantasy Adventure) (44 page)

“I suggest you use his title to avoid offense,” Gavin said, but his voice was distant and he seemed to speak more out of habit than real concern. His fingers resting on his chin as he watched her with unfocused eyes, as if lost in thought.

“What’s wrong, Gavin?”

“It—the drenowith intervened?” he finally asked. “To help us?”

“Of course they did. Why does everyone have such a hard time understanding that? A drenowith trained the first Vagabond. A few of them want peace in Ourea as much as you do.”

“I never knew,” he mumbled.

“Well, now you do. We shouldn’t advertise that, though.” Kara groped for a suitable lie that would protect the muses without explaining why they needed protection. “They like their privacy.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“Thanks,” she said, sitting down across from him at the table. “Though the Blood of Kirelm is a bit of a pig, he agreed to talk with you so long as Losse agrees as well.”

Gavin grinned, bringing his feet to the floor with a
thump
and renewed vigor. Whatever he’d been thinking about, he wasn’t going to burden her with it.

“That is fantastic news!” he said.

“I thought so, too.” She draped herself over two of the chairs, exhausted, and picked up one of the cookies sitting forgotten on their plate. The first nibble left crumbs on the corners of her lips, and the tart filling stung her sinuses. The bite snapped her from her train of thought.

“These cookies are delicious.”

“You’ve done well, Kara. Negotiations will begin soon, then, and there will of course need to be a celebration when we sign the treaty.”

“Here?” She took another cookie, unable to stop now that she’d started. They were amazing.

“No, it would be foolish to expose Hillside’s location.” He waved away her question and pondered. “Richard used to tell me of a Unity Gala that was held back in the times of Ethos. Each winter, they came together and celebrated light to give people hope against the cold. Sometimes, the Gala would last for weeks.”

“Sounds like my kind of party.”

“We could restart the tradition, but use it as a celebration of unity instead of light.” He grabbed a cookie. “These were for me, you know.”

“I was hungry. Besides, you shouldn’t eat a whole plate of sugar.” She shrugged, but he was smiling.

“Glad you could help, then.”

“Just doing my part.”

“We would need a neutral location.”

She was confused for a moment, until she realized that his train of thought lacked tracks. They were back to the Unity Gala conversation. He leaned back in his chair as he thought aloud.

“What about Ethos?” he asked.

“Isn’t it all in ruins?”

“Most of it, yes, but there’s rumor of a central hall that survived. With the four armies together, we would have nothing to worry about in terms of security. It would be perfect, completely closed off, and neutral to everyone.”

“Not to mention the symbolism behind uniting the kingdoms once again in the city where it all began,” she added. “It sounds great as long as we can make sure it’s safe.”

“Absolutely. I’ll send a company out to investigate. I’m in your debt, Kara.” He smiled and took her hand in his. She flinched at the touch, but the movement was subtle enough that he either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge it.

“Thanks, but you don’t owe me anything.”

Relief sank into the pit of her stomach even as she tried to wriggle her hand free of his grip. Gavin might have been rash and a bit temperamental, but he seemed to have relaxed while she was gone. She had an ally in him. A cloud skirted around the sun and a beam of light lit the room, stinging her eyes. She needed sleep.

“You look exhausted.” Gavin let her hand slide to the table. “I’m sorry to have kept you. Please, get some rest. Can we bring you anything?”

“I’m too tired for food, but thanks.”

“But not too tired to eat my cookies, apparently.”

She laughed. “I guess not.”

He grinned. “To bed it is then.”

She left, returning to her room without running into a soul along the way. The door swung closed behind her, and she traded her Lossian training gear for the loose shirt and clean pants someone had left for her on the bed. She collapsed into the mattress with no intention of waking up until the next afternoon.

Someone knocked on Kara’s door.

“Go away,” she mumbled, two layers deep in the comforters. Smudges of dirt from her face stained the white linens.

“May I come in?” a soft voice called through the wood.

Kara tried to block the sun with her pillow as she searched her memory. The voice was familiar, somehow.

“Twin?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m talking to a door, which is awkward. May I come in yet?”

“Yeah, it’s unlocked.”

Kara sat up and wiped drool from her face. Oh, gross.

Twin opened the door and slid into the room. “I just wanted to let you know that Braeden returned.”

“Thanks.” Kara hadn’t asked anyone to tell her that, but at least it was an excuse to be in the same room as Twin. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t find their way to her mouth.

Where do I even start to apologize? “I’m sorry I made you relive your sister dying. My bad?”

The room went silent. Twin wrung her hands and examined the floor while Kara played with the edge of her comforter.

“Well, I’ll leave you alone then,” Twin mumbled, bolting for the door.

Kara reached out to stop her. “Wait. Please. I’m sorry for what I said by that spring. It’s not my business. What I said was just mean.”

With a sigh, Twin stopped at the door. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t better explain the consequences. Just promise me you’ll never try it.”

Kara’s heart panged with the memory of the water demon she created on the way to Losse. Its sharp teeth seared her thoughts.

“Unless—” Twin gasped. “Oh Bloods! Did you—?”

“I won’t do it again.” Kara’s jaw tightened, and she watched the floor.

Twin sat on the bed. “It’s a dangerous addiction.”

“If you know that, why haven’t you stopped?”

“I have, actually. After you found me out, I could never bring myself to go back. You made me finally accept that my sister...” Twin trailed off and sighed. “She’s dead.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?”

“Yes.” Twin laughed and stood, waving her hand over her nose. “Take a bath. You smell terrible.”

Kara laughed and threw a pillow at her, but Twin caught it and used it as a shield against the barrage of pillows that followed. When the fluffy arsenal was depleted, Kara made her way toward the bathroom. A full tub, a change of pants, new boots, and a clean, green shirt were already waiting for her in the adjacent room.

“So,” Twin said with a giggle. “I’m sure you missed Braeden after all this time. Are you planning on paying him a visit?” She batted her eyes mockingly from where she sat on the bed, and Kara wished she had another pillow to throw.

“Not really.” She tasted the lie, but kept that to herself. “I’ll see you later.”

“He’s just a floor above you,” Twin called over her shoulder as she left. “Third door on the right.”

“Uh-huh,” Kara answered, trying not to sound interested. The bedroom door thudded closed, and she repeated the directions under her breath so that she would remember the way.

She heated the water by submerging her hands and lighting a flame in each palm. While the flames didn’t appear underwater, the bath bubbled and warmed until steam danced along the surface. Kara grinned, happy with her progress since her first miserable bath in Hillside, and she treated herself to a long soak before dressing and heading off to find Braeden.

She knocked on his door when she found it, and he wrenched it open before she could knock a second time. His hair was clean but unkempt, and he’d managed to find fresh clothes.

“What a surprise,” he said with a grin. “How was your chat with Gavin?”

“Astonishingly jovial.”

“Come in.” He left the door open and turned back to the piles on his bed.

“Is that appropriate?” she joked. “Don’t I need a white-gloved chaperone or something?”

“And here I thought you were a modern American girl.” He smiled again and continued sifting through the piles of cloth on his blanket.

“So, when are we going to leave? I figure—”

He interrupted her with a curt laugh. “You have no idea how to relax, do you?”

“It’s kind of important that I find this amulet,” she said. “I don’t have time to relax.”

“Don’t be so boring.”

Kara stepped inside as he leaned over several sharp, glinting weapons on the comforter. There was a cloth with several red and black streaks on it, which he used to wipe down the various knives and other sharp contraptions as they spoke. He cleaned each item thoroughly before setting it on a tall, crowded shelf across from the bed, as if he always had mundane conversations while tending to his small, well-organized armory.

“Braeden, come on. I know you don’t really want to go, but—”

“It’s not that I’m hesitant to go,” he interrupted, pausing as he polished a sword with two curling blades that twisted around each other like a DNA double-helix. She shuddered at the thought of what it could possibly be used for.

“Then what is it?”

“If you work too hard for too long, you’ll wear yourself out. Most normal people know that.”

“Really? You’re comfortable using that word? I have a glowing bluish-orange egg in my bag that’s supposed to hatch into a mammal with superpowers. I don’t even know what the word ‘normal’ means anymore.”

“All right, all right. Still, you should relax. Eat, at least. We can take a walk, get some food, and then we can go. Will you grant me that?”

“Fine,” she said with a mock sigh, smiling as he set the last of the daggers on his shelf.

He belted a sword around his waist and held the door open for her. Together, they walked into the hall. A young girl stopped on the stairwell as they left his room, frozen mid-step as she watched them. Kara caught the girl’s eye, but the Hillsidian tore away in an unbalanced giggle-dash down the stairs.

“And the rumors begin,” Braeden said with a chuckle. They headed down the same stairwell at a slower pace.

“Seriously, is the gossip here that bad? Maybe she was just—” Kara tried to give the girl the benefit of the doubt, but she couldn’t think of an alternative reason for stopping, staring, and then tripping over oneself in an impish chortle.

“It’s their entertainment. All Hillsidians have is shopping and gossiping about who’s going to finally bond to each other.”

“What?”

“Bonding? It’s, well—it’s our marriage, I guess. Yakona don’t marry in the sense that humans do. We pick a partner and stay with them, sure, but there’s no ring and there’s no divorce.”

“What do you use, then?”

“Maybe this is a topic for another day. If anyone hears us talking about this, the rumors are going to burn people alive with excitement.” He shot a nervous look around at the empty stairs.

“I’ll just ask the Grimoire.”

She rolled her eyes as the stairwell ended, and they walked into the main dining hall. The room was loud, filled with Hillsidians who laughed and jeered at one another. Kara grabbed some fruit, honeyed ham, a loaf of bread, and a block of cheese before heading for the orchard through a side door.

Birds chirped as she and Braeden walked through the orchard on their way to the lakeshore, where they sat and ate. Kara lay back on the grass when the food was gone, listening as Braeden told her stories about his isen hunts, almost all of which ended with him in the human world. As he spoke, she let her mind wander and wondered if she would ever go back.

Even though she’d relaxed in the warm sunshine, Kara couldn’t stop thinking about the village and the last obstacle in her way. She asked Braeden about leaving for the Stelian amulet at least once every thirty minutes for three hours until he finally conceded that they could go.