Bound by Blood and Sand
Page 33
Not that it mattered. Whether she’d meant to kill Rannith or not, Jae was dangerous. If she’d kept the quake going longer, she could have shaken Aredann to the ground, taken it apart brick by brick. If the Curse couldn’t control her fully, there had to be another way.
“Highest?”
He looked at the open door. Lady Shirrad was back, with Jae’s brother—Tal, Shirrad had said—and he was staring at Jae on the sleeping mat. Elan stood and glanced at Tal for a moment, then back at Jae.
“Lady, we have much to discuss,” he said.
“Is…is Lord Rannith in there?” she asked, edging her way in carefully, but Elan hurried to meet her and block her view.
“He’s dead,” Elan said, then looked at Tal. “Was this the first time he ordered Jae to his room?”
“No, Highest,” Tal said softly, still studying Jae’s form.
“Do you think she’d have killed him, if she ever had the chance?”
“Lord Elan—” Shirrad started, but Tal interrupted her, compelled to answer.
“Yes, Highest.”
“Lord Elan, surely you don’t think— Jae couldn’t have had anything to do with…could she?”
He nodded, and Shirrad gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. Before she could say anything else, Elan ordered Tal, “Take Jae to my room. Carefully.”
Tal made his way to the sleeping mat. He picked Jae up gently. She didn’t stir at all. He kept the blanket wrapped around her as he found a way to hold her. They were about the same size—she was tall for a woman, but lithe and thin—and he carried her out.
Elan followed, Lady Shirrad at his side. Jae still didn’t wake as they moved, but that was for the best. Elan watched Tal carefully, the way he cradled her, the way he shifted to keep her as steady as possible, even when he had to climb through rubble in the halls. Jae was his sister, after all, and it was obvious that he worried about her, that he loved her.
For the first time, Elan wondered what life was really like for the Closest. To care and worry and want to help—but to be at everyone else’s mercy, unable to even speak. Elan would do anything for his own sister. Surely Jae and Tal wouldn’t do any less for each other, if the Curse allowed them. But he couldn’t imagine what it would be like, not really, to be cursed, to have to stand by and watch, and never be able to help at all.
Jae woke, feeling as light as steam. The Curse had been a weight on her body her whole life; every morning had meant waking to lingering pain and exhaustion. Waking to dread settling over her like a blanket as she thought about the long day and excruciating heat in front of her. Now, instead of her pulse echoing with the Curse, all she woke to was sunlight streaming in through curtains. She braced herself as she pushed up onto her elbows, but there was no familiar pounding. No Curse dragging her down. There was no pain.
Everything in the room seemed to be dimly lit from within, shining with energy, so bright and inviting that it took her a few moments to realize she was in Elan’s chambers. They were a wreck: overturned furniture, art fallen from the walls, bricks strewn across the floor, with a layer of dust coating it all. She could make out footprints in it, heavy steps treading from the door to the sleeping mat, where they grew too messy to follow, and then back to the door.
Someone had carried her in. Carried her in, and dressed her, because her last clear memory was of Rannith on the mat, and she’d been nude. Now she was wearing a long, loose shirt and her underclothes. The shirt was deep green, more vivid than anything anyone at Aredann owned. Elan’s, then, the cleanest and softest thing she’d ever worn.
She took a deep breath and sneezed at the dust, then almost laughed. Everything came back to her in an onslaught of memories, a rush of feelings more than images. She’d fought off the Curse, she’d beaten it, and then Rannith…
Her lips curled up into an unkind smile. She was free now—and that meant free to use her magic however she chose. No one could stop her, not even Elan, and she would never allow anyone to hurt her again.
The door opened, sliding until it hit a small pile of rubble. Tal walked in, saw her sitting, and hurried to her side.
“You’re awake,” he breathed.
“I am. And I’m— Tal, I’m free.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit on the edge of the mat. “I fought against the Curse, and I won. And it feels like—”
“Jae—”
“I feel so light. I can do anything,” she said, the energy around her shining and enticing. “The magic is everywhere. I can see it so much more clearly now. I can feel it, and once I’m better at using it, I’ll free you, too—”
“Jae.” He squeezed her hand, and when she fell silent, he continued, “You killed Rannith.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I did.”
He stared at her, as if she could deny it even if she wanted to—but the Curse didn’t control her anymore. She could lie if she wanted to, but why would she bother lying about Rannith? She wasn’t sorry, and it was no more than Rannith had deserved. She smiled again, until she saw Tal’s expression. No longer shocked, just frowning.
“You can’t blame me,” she said.
“I…” He trailed off, pulled his hand away from hers. The Curse still controlled him. She could see what was happening, had felt it too many times herself. She hadn’t asked him a question, so he wasn’t compelled to speak, but he was trying to find a way to shape the truth in his response anyway. “I don’t blame you. But, Jae, you killed someone.”
“I’m not sorry,” she said. That truth was easy, even without the Curse to force it. “He raped me. He was trying to rape me again.”
“I know,” Tal said, and his hand was back, a tether binding them together. “I understand. It’s just…you destroyed him. His entire body was broken, and there…there was so much blood.”
“Good.”
“Good?” he echoed, the incredulity turning it into a question.
“He deserved that, and—and more. When I find a way to free you, you’ll understand. The way Lady Shirrad treats you is—”
“But I don’t want to kill her!” His voice hadn’t risen above its usual hushed tone, but the words were harsher, carved from stone and left unsmoothed. “She’s not…She uses me, and I use her.” Tal shook his head. “I’d find another way if I could, but I wouldn’t kill her.”
“Highest?”
He looked at the open door. Lady Shirrad was back, with Jae’s brother—Tal, Shirrad had said—and he was staring at Jae on the sleeping mat. Elan stood and glanced at Tal for a moment, then back at Jae.
“Lady, we have much to discuss,” he said.
“Is…is Lord Rannith in there?” she asked, edging her way in carefully, but Elan hurried to meet her and block her view.
“He’s dead,” Elan said, then looked at Tal. “Was this the first time he ordered Jae to his room?”
“No, Highest,” Tal said softly, still studying Jae’s form.
“Do you think she’d have killed him, if she ever had the chance?”
“Lord Elan—” Shirrad started, but Tal interrupted her, compelled to answer.
“Yes, Highest.”
“Lord Elan, surely you don’t think— Jae couldn’t have had anything to do with…could she?”
He nodded, and Shirrad gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. Before she could say anything else, Elan ordered Tal, “Take Jae to my room. Carefully.”
Tal made his way to the sleeping mat. He picked Jae up gently. She didn’t stir at all. He kept the blanket wrapped around her as he found a way to hold her. They were about the same size—she was tall for a woman, but lithe and thin—and he carried her out.
Elan followed, Lady Shirrad at his side. Jae still didn’t wake as they moved, but that was for the best. Elan watched Tal carefully, the way he cradled her, the way he shifted to keep her as steady as possible, even when he had to climb through rubble in the halls. Jae was his sister, after all, and it was obvious that he worried about her, that he loved her.
For the first time, Elan wondered what life was really like for the Closest. To care and worry and want to help—but to be at everyone else’s mercy, unable to even speak. Elan would do anything for his own sister. Surely Jae and Tal wouldn’t do any less for each other, if the Curse allowed them. But he couldn’t imagine what it would be like, not really, to be cursed, to have to stand by and watch, and never be able to help at all.
Jae woke, feeling as light as steam. The Curse had been a weight on her body her whole life; every morning had meant waking to lingering pain and exhaustion. Waking to dread settling over her like a blanket as she thought about the long day and excruciating heat in front of her. Now, instead of her pulse echoing with the Curse, all she woke to was sunlight streaming in through curtains. She braced herself as she pushed up onto her elbows, but there was no familiar pounding. No Curse dragging her down. There was no pain.
Everything in the room seemed to be dimly lit from within, shining with energy, so bright and inviting that it took her a few moments to realize she was in Elan’s chambers. They were a wreck: overturned furniture, art fallen from the walls, bricks strewn across the floor, with a layer of dust coating it all. She could make out footprints in it, heavy steps treading from the door to the sleeping mat, where they grew too messy to follow, and then back to the door.
Someone had carried her in. Carried her in, and dressed her, because her last clear memory was of Rannith on the mat, and she’d been nude. Now she was wearing a long, loose shirt and her underclothes. The shirt was deep green, more vivid than anything anyone at Aredann owned. Elan’s, then, the cleanest and softest thing she’d ever worn.
She took a deep breath and sneezed at the dust, then almost laughed. Everything came back to her in an onslaught of memories, a rush of feelings more than images. She’d fought off the Curse, she’d beaten it, and then Rannith…
Her lips curled up into an unkind smile. She was free now—and that meant free to use her magic however she chose. No one could stop her, not even Elan, and she would never allow anyone to hurt her again.
The door opened, sliding until it hit a small pile of rubble. Tal walked in, saw her sitting, and hurried to her side.
“You’re awake,” he breathed.
“I am. And I’m— Tal, I’m free.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit on the edge of the mat. “I fought against the Curse, and I won. And it feels like—”
“Jae—”
“I feel so light. I can do anything,” she said, the energy around her shining and enticing. “The magic is everywhere. I can see it so much more clearly now. I can feel it, and once I’m better at using it, I’ll free you, too—”
“Jae.” He squeezed her hand, and when she fell silent, he continued, “You killed Rannith.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I did.”
He stared at her, as if she could deny it even if she wanted to—but the Curse didn’t control her anymore. She could lie if she wanted to, but why would she bother lying about Rannith? She wasn’t sorry, and it was no more than Rannith had deserved. She smiled again, until she saw Tal’s expression. No longer shocked, just frowning.
“You can’t blame me,” she said.
“I…” He trailed off, pulled his hand away from hers. The Curse still controlled him. She could see what was happening, had felt it too many times herself. She hadn’t asked him a question, so he wasn’t compelled to speak, but he was trying to find a way to shape the truth in his response anyway. “I don’t blame you. But, Jae, you killed someone.”
“I’m not sorry,” she said. That truth was easy, even without the Curse to force it. “He raped me. He was trying to rape me again.”
“I know,” Tal said, and his hand was back, a tether binding them together. “I understand. It’s just…you destroyed him. His entire body was broken, and there…there was so much blood.”
“Good.”
“Good?” he echoed, the incredulity turning it into a question.
“He deserved that, and—and more. When I find a way to free you, you’ll understand. The way Lady Shirrad treats you is—”
“But I don’t want to kill her!” His voice hadn’t risen above its usual hushed tone, but the words were harsher, carved from stone and left unsmoothed. “She’s not…She uses me, and I use her.” Tal shook his head. “I’d find another way if I could, but I wouldn’t kill her.”
