Chapter Eleven
Upon arriving back at the command center, Kiva did a stutter-step through the door when she saw that Jaren had returned. He stood with his arms crossed, his expression closed, his eyes avoiding her entirely. But he was there. And Ashlyn, too, standing at his side in a similar position, her maid’s outfit making her look considerably less intimidating.
“Took you long enough,” Ashlyn grumbled to Caldon, before turning to Kiva and asking, her voice much kinder, “Are you all right? Is your
shoulder —”
“I’m fine,” Kiva said quickly.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Caldon asked, peering from her left arm to her right, but her dress covered all evidence of the wound.
“Nothing,” Kiva said, sending a warning look to Ashlyn, who cocked a pale eyebrow in response but thankfully didn’t say anything else.
Jaren’s expression hadn’t changed — he’d clearly decided to ignore Kiva, and while she wanted to run into his arms and beg for forgiveness, she knew the best thing she could do was give him space. Caldon had seemed confident Jaren would warm up to her — eventually — so she just had to be patient and not push him into anything before he was ready.
But Kiva didn’t feel like being patient. Not when he was so close, after being apart for so long. She unconsciously moved a step nearer to him, but a twitch of Cresta’s head caught her attention, and Kiva looked toward the ex-quarrier only to see the warning in her hazel eyes.
Don’t, Cresta seemed to be saying. You’ll regret it.
Kiva bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood, but gave a nod of resigned understanding.
“Have you learned anything yet, Eidran?” Caldon asked, prompting Kiva’s gaze to shoot to the unfamiliar young man, her eyes widening with realization.
Eidran was the name of the Royal Guard who had originally planned to infiltrate Zalindov, but he’d broken his leg, leaving Jaren to go in his place.
From what Kiva had gleaned while eavesdropping on the Royal Council, he
was one of Evalon’s best spies when it came to gathering rebel intelligence.
Last she’d heard, he’d been recovering from his injury in Albree, but that had been months ago — he’d had plenty of time to heal and, apparently, find his way back to Jaren.
“The general said we should wait for you,” Eidran answered, his voice quiet, calming even. Despite his formidable size, there was something very settling about him.
“Well, we’re here now,” Caldon said, offering no further explanation as he strode toward them, with Kiva quickly following. “Remove their gags, and let’s hear what they have to say.”
If Ashlyn was annoyed that her brother was giving the orders despite her outranking him, she didn’t let on. Her focus was solely on Torell and Cresta as Eidran tugged the cloths from their mouths.
Immediately, Tor looked at Kiva and rasped, “Are you —”
“Quiet.”
The word was low and brimming with barely restrained fury, a command even the bravest of souls would know not to ignore.
And it was said by Jaren.
It was the first time Kiva had heard his voice in weeks, and it took everything in her not to start tearing up again. She only managed because Cresta sent her another look, this one saying, Get it together, you softhearted fool.
Kiva fisted her hands until her fingernails dug into her palms. She was desperate to find out how her brother was there, what Cresta was doing with him, why Caldon had said Tipp hadn’t wanted to be near them, and so many other things. But she knew better than to speak, the very air simmering with tension. She shot a pleading glance at Caldon, but he was too busy looking worriedly at Jaren to notice, so Kiva turned to Ashlyn. The princess held her eyes before offering a slight nod and stepping forward until she was in front of Tor.
“Torell Corentine,” she said, “I’m Ashlyn Vallentis.”
“I know who you are, General,” he replied.
His emerald gaze was steady and full of respect, which seemed to take Ashlyn aback. But she rallied and said, “It takes either a brave man or a stupid one to turn himself in as you did tonight. You’re wanted for treason, the penalty for which is a life sentence at Zalindov.”
Kiva flinched, and all eyes shifted to her — including Jaren’s frosty gaze.
“Since we just came from there,” Cresta drawled, mercifully reclaiming their attention, “it’d be really annoying if you made us go straight back.”
Kiva sent her a grateful look, to which the redhead just rolled her eyes, as if reminding Kiva that it was becoming an irritating habit to save her — even from herself.
Ashlyn squinted at the ex-quarrier. “Have we met before? You look familiar.”
Cresta shrugged within the confines of her ropes. “Are you the one who arrested me five years ago?” When Ashlyn shook her head, Cresta said, “Then no, unless you’ve visited for Family Day in that time. Maybe we shared tea and cookies.”
Kiva resisted the urge to snort at the very idea of Zalindov hosting a “Family Day.”
Ashlyn’s mouth tightened, and she returned her focus to Torell. “You came here knowing that we’d —”
“Can we speed this up?” Cresta interrupted, shifting on her seat. “My ass is numb.” She jerked her chin toward Kiva. “You already know we’re here for her. Sure, we didn’t know she’d be here, so we got lucky with that.
But now that we’re all together, how about you save time by leaving the threats and just asking your questions?” Cresta continued before anyone could respond, “I’ll start you off. This one” — her chin jerked toward Torell this time — “was unconscious during everything that went down with their sister at the palace.” Her hazel eyes locked with Jaren’s as she brutally added, “You know, the night you lost your throne and your magic?” She whistled through her teeth. “Not your best day.”
“Cresta,” Kiva hissed, the strangled word barely leaving her throat.
“What?” Cresta asked with fake innocence. “We all know what happened. Gods, you wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks at Zalindov. I’ve never seen anyone more broken, and that’s saying a lot, considering where we were.”
It was as if all the air had been sucked from the room. Kiva shut her eyes to block out what she might see — or not see — but then she felt a hand on her arm, and she reopened them to find Caldon’s pale face before her.
“You were back at Zalindov?” His voice was raw, as if he didn’t want to believe it.
Cresta snorted. “Where the hell did you think she was? After how much she’d come to care for you all, do you really think she would have stayed away of her own free will and not tried to fix things?” She snorted again.
“Do you really think she would have stayed away from him?” Her gaze speared straight to Jaren again, and Kiva couldn’t resist looking as well, only to see him standing as still as death. His face remained blank, but his
eyes — They were blazing.
Kiva’s traitorous heart gave a thump of hope, but then he blinked and whatever he’d felt at the news of her being back at Zalindov vanished as swiftly as it had arrived.
“There was nothing she could do, though,” Cresta went on, her words landing like blows. “Warden Rooke sentenced her to the tunnels this time —”
A jerk of Jaren’s body had Kiva’s eyes flicking back to him, but he’d frozen again before she could decide whether she’d imagined it or not.
“— and when she arrived, she was too messed up from the —”
“CRESTA!” Kiva finally snapped. All eyes returned to her, including Jaren’s, and a panicked desperation came over her. He couldn’t learn about the angeldust — after the abuse he’d suffered from his mother’s addiction, Kiva feared it would only give him another reason to hate her. She might not have willfully chosen to use the drug, but she still recalled her darkest moments of begging Cresta for it. Her shame was suffocating, something she couldn’t stand the thought of him knowing about. And not just him — the others, too. So she cleared her throat and said, “It’s fine — I’m here, aren’t I? Yes, I was back at Zalindov, just for a little while. But I got out.”
She held up her hands as if to prove she’d sustained no permanent damage, at least not physically. The scars on the inside . . . those were hers to bear alone.
“How did we not know?” Caldon asked, horror clear in his features.
Kiva wanted to reassure him that there was nothing he could have done, but Cresta answered before she could.
“Zuleeka and Mirryn snuck her out of Vallenia in secret. They knew she’d try to help you, and they wanted her out of the way.” The exquarrier didn’t mention the state Kiva had been in upon arrival — having clearly
noted Kiva’s reaction to her previous attempt — and smoothly segued back to her earlier story. “That all happened straight after the masquerade, but when Torell woke the following day, he —”
“Why don’t we let him tell his side of things?” Ashlyn cut in smoothly, her silvery eyes shifting to Tor’s. “I’d like to hear it in his own words.”
Torell straightened in his chair. “After the attack, I woke up in —”
“Attack?” Ashlyn interrupted.
“Mirravens,” Caldon answered for Torell. “They kidnapped Kiva to bait Jaren.”
Ashlyn looked like she had more questions, but Caldon waved Tor on.
“Everything was hazy at first, but Rhessinda — my friend and second in command — helped me remember,” Torell said, his gaze unfocused in memory. “I’d been stabbed in the heart, but it wasn’t by a Mirraven soldier — it was by Zuleeka.” He raised his eyes to Kiva’s, his face haunted. “She nearly killed me. You saved me.”
The sudden spotlight on Kiva’s healing magic was as subtle as a rabid bear in the corner of the room.
“Rhess filled me in on what had happened at the palace,” Tor went on.
“She’s never trusted Zuleeka, so as soon as she heard about the takeover, she moved me and Tipp from the rebel safe house to her hidden apartment in the city while we were both still unconscious.”
“Who is this Tipp I keep hearing about?” Ashlyn murmured.
“Unnaturally happy kid,” Cresta said, sounding bored. “Like a little brother to Kiva, until he learned she’d been lying to him for years. Keep up, would you?”
Ashlyn scowled at Cresta while Kiva fought back her pain from the too- candid answer, all while Torell continued, “That morning, I went to the palace and confronted Zuleeka. I’d had no idea that she —” He broke off, his eyes moving straight to Jaren. In a broken voice, he said, “I swear, I had no idea what she’d planned. If I’d known, I would have —”
“What?” Jaren said, his voice whip-sharp. “You would have what?
Stopped her? You’re a Corentine. The Jackal. The rebel general. Isn’t this what you wanted? Congratulations, you succeeded.”
“Jaren, mate,” Caldon said quietly, moving closer to his cousin and placing a hand on his shoulder. “We talked about this.”
“No,” Jaren said, shrugging Caldon off. “You talked about this. Just because you believe he’s more than what he seems, that doesn’t mean I
have to. He’s from a family of liars and murderers. Trust him all you want, but you’ll only bring about your own ruin. Then you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
Jaren wasn’t talking about Torell. Everyone in the room knew it, Kiva especially. Her eyes burned, every word like an arrow shooting into her chest.
“Gods, were you this dramatic when you were at Zalindov?” Cresta asked, pulling a face at Jaren. “No wonder I never liked you.”
“Why are you here, Cresta?” he asked flatly.
“Tor isn’t done yet,” she replied, heedless to Jaren’s mood. “He needs to finish before you can see how I fit into things.”
Sensing everyone’s patience was growing thin, Torell quickly summarized, “Zuleeka wouldn’t tell me where Kiva was, and demanded that I help her take control of the kingdom. When I refused, she tried to attack me with her magic.” There was enough disbelief in his tone to confirm he’d had no knowledge of her deadly power. “I only managed to escape because Mirryn arrived and talked some sense into Zuleeka, giving me a chance to flee.”
Kiva’s eyes widened at the thought of Mirryn intervening. Jaren, Caldon, and Ashlyn all showed visible reactions as well, making her wonder how they were dealing with the emotional fallout of her betrayal.
Jaren especially.
“After that,” Torell said, turning to Kiva, “it took me some time, but I found a witness from the masquerade who saw you being carried away by two guards. I assumed they were Royal Guards, so I lost even more time trying to hunt them down, only to learn they were transfer guards who had taken you back to Zalindov.”
His sorrowful green gaze held hers. “I’d already abandoned you once — I wasn’t going to let you rot in there a second time. But I also worried that the rebels might report what I was planning to Zuleeka, so I knew I had to go alone. Rhess agreed to stay behind as my eyes and ears inside Vallenia, and Tipp —” Torell looked down at his lap, before meeting Kiva’s gaze again. “He was harder to convince, but he knew he couldn’t go back to the palace while Zuleeka and Mirryn were there. Since he had nowhere else to go, he agreed to travel with me to Zalindov.”
Kiva’s heart shriveled, now understanding what Caldon had meant earlier. Unlike Torell and Cresta, Tipp wasn’t there because he’d wanted to
find her. He was there because he’d had no other choice.
Painfully aware of how many people she’d hurt with her lies, Kiva only half listened as Torell explained how he and Tipp had stayed at the inn in Vaskin until they’d overheard some guards complaining about the new recruits who had finally arrived to replace those killed in the riot. Tor quickly realized that was something he could exploit, especially when the guards went on to laugh about “that healer girl” locked in the Abyss. It took a few days, but he eventually managed to corner a different guard and knock him out, before stealing his uniform and sneaking into the prison disguised as one of the recruits. Thanks to Tipp’s reluctant sharing, Tor knew exactly where the punishment block was and headed straight there, only to find not Kiva, but Cresta.
“You’d already been taken by then, and I told him I’d only share where you’d gone if he got me out,” Cresta said, shameless. “So he did.”
Kiva had a feeling their escape wasn’t as straightforward as they’d claimed, but she didn’t pry for more details. Instead, she looked at Cresta and stated, “I would have come back for you.”
Cresta’s face was solemn. “I know.” Her features filled with mirth as she added, “But now you don’t have to get your ass stuck in there a third time because of some idiotic rescue attempt that was doomed to fail.”
“Back up,” Caldon interjected, looking between Kiva and Cresta. “Why did those guards say you were in the Abyss if you weren’t?”
“Because I was,” Kiva said, and she thought she saw Jaren give another twitch, just the faintest of movements. “Until Navok had me released.”
This time she was certain Jaren gave a visible jerk.
“That part I didn’t know,” Cresta said. “I just lied to Tor so he’d get me out.” She flashed an unrepentant grin — the expression transforming her face enough that Kiva heard Caldon suck in a swift breath — and said, “He wasn’t very happy with me. Naughty Cresta.”
Caldon coughed to hide his amusement, and Kiva shot him a warning look.
“Tipp was even less happy,” Torell said, his tone revealing that he wasn’t quite over Cresta’s lie, even if they appeared to have reached a truce.
“We had to come up with a new plan, but it was around then that we heard whispers that the Vallentis princes were with their army at Stoneforge, safe from Zuleeka’s reach. So we headed here, hoping you’d be able — and willing — to help.”
“He dragged me along, saying I owed him that much, but I would have come anyway out of curiosity,” Cresta said. “This has been the most entertainment I’ve had in years.” She wiggled her feet. “Well worth the blisters.”
Kiva eyed Cresta’s boots, taking in her travel-worn clothes properly for the first time. Somewhere along her journey she’d traded her prison tunic for a functional shirt and leggings, but both she and Torell were covered in dust and in need of a good wash.
Cresta yawned loudly, stretching her arms over her head. “As fun as this is, I’m tired. And hungry. Are we done yet?”
Caldon shifted forward, his cobalt gaze narrowed on her hands. Her unbound hands. “How did you —”
“Oh, was I supposed to wait to be freed?” she asked, picking up the untied ropes resting uselessly on her lap. “I’m afraid I missed the how-to- be-a-good-prisoner lecture on my first day at Zalindov.”
Despite the emotional trauma of the night, it took all of Kiva’s willpower to keep from laughing at the guileless expression the redhead
was attempting to pull off.
“Eidran —” Ashlyn started.
“Never mind, I’ll do it myself,” Cresta muttered, retying her own ropes.
This time Kiva couldn’t hold back her snort, and was mortified when the frowns that had been focused on Cresta turned her way.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just — I mean —” She waved a hand weakly toward Cresta, as if that was answer enough.
Caldon returned the warning look she’d sent him mere moments ago, then came to her rescue by indicating between her and Ashlyn and saying, “You mentioned Navok. Is that how you two ended up together?”
Kiva nodded slowly, unsure how much she wanted to share about her own misadventures.
Ashlyn, however, had no such hesitation, and launched into an explanation of how she’d traveled to Mirraven to spy on the king, only to delay her return when she heard he was having Kiva collected from Zalindov.
“But why would he —” Caldon stopped mid-question and turned to Kiva. “The night of the masquerade, you’d just found out about a deal your family made with him, but you didn’t know what that deal was. Does this have something to do with that?”
Kiva rubbed her arms, stalling, but the look on Ashlyn’s face told her that if she didn’t explain, then the princess would.
“My mother” — Kiva struggled over the word when Jaren’s expression tightened — “wanted to get to me in Zalindov. But she also wanted to, uh . . .”
“Take over Evalon,” Cresta said, yawning again. “Blah, blah, evil queen, we all know this part.”
Kiva frowned, but Cresta only winked in return, her serpent tattoo shifting with the movement.
Deciding just to get it over quickly, Kiva said, so fast that the words blurred together, “Mother allied the rebels with Mirraven.”
The room stilled.
“She what?” Torell demanded.
Kiva swallowed and explained, “She said they’d help Navok’s forces invade if he got her into Zalindov — and if a Corentine ended up on the throne. She, uh, didn’t know about the Royal Ternary” — Kiva avoided looking at Jaren — “so she thought it was the best chance she had. Or at least, the quickest.”
“Why would Navok agree to that?” Eidran asked, his head tilted in thought. He’d kept so quiet for most of their conversation that Kiva had nearly forgotten he was there. “He’s wanted Evalon for too long to just conquer us and then hand over the crown.”
Kiva dreaded sharing the answer, but once again, Ashlyn didn’t hesitate.
“Navok retrieved Kiva from Zalindov to marry her,” the princess said.
“That was the deal Tilda made. Her daughter, for our kingdom.”
Kiva stared at the ground, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at her.
“She didn’t,” whispered Torell’s agonized voice. “Kiva — tell me she didn’t.”
She said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood there, wishing for the earth to open and swallow her whole.
“And I thought my family had problems,” Cresta murmured.
That made Kiva finally look up, ignoring everyone but the redhead as she said through clenched teeth, “You’re not helping.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Ashlyn’s voice was deliberately light, as if to ease the sudden waves of emotion in the room — emotion that wasn’t coming from just Kiva and Torell.
Kiva didn’t want to look, was afraid to look, but her gaze moved to
Jaren without her permission.
His face — His eyes — He turned away and ran his hand through his tousled gold-brown hair.
When he turned back again, his expression was blank once more.
But Kiva had seen it.
She hadn’t imagined it.
He’d been horrified — for her.
And he wasn’t the only one. Because unlike Jaren, Caldon didn’t have a reason to deny what he felt, and the way he was looking at her . . .
“I’m all right,” she said quietly, to him — but also to Jaren. “Ashlyn got me out in time.”
“Not quite in time,” Ashlyn said. “He did manage to torture you first.”
Kiva’s body locked, and she snapped, “Ashlyn,” forgetting that she probably shouldn’t speak to a princess — and a general — in such a tone.
But Ashlyn held her indignant gaze and said, “They need to know.”
“Why?” Kiva demanded, throwing out her arms and wincing when the move pulled at her shoulder.
“They need all the facts so they can help us figure out why Navok agreed to the deal,” Ashlyn said calmly. “And don’t tell me you believe he said yes just so he could ally with the rebels. We both know it’s more than that — something to do with your magic. Why else would he have been so desperate to see you use it? And so furious when you wouldn’t?”
“Please,” Kiva said, rubbing her forehead, “can we just —”
“And you’re not the only thing we need to worry about when it comes to Mirraven,” Ashlyn went on, ignoring Kiva’s pleas. She turned to her brother and Jaren, and grimly revealed, “Navok has been collecting anomalies. Not one or two, but dozens. More than we ever thought existed.
More than should exist. I don’t know how he’s finding them, but their numbers are growing, and they’re seemingly loyal to him.”
“Dozens?” Jaren repeated, eyes wide. “How is that possible?”
Anomalies were supposed to be incredibly rare. Kiva was still amazed that she’d encountered two in her lifetime — Xuru and Galdric. That Navok had found dozens . . . Anxiety welled within her as she wondered what he was planning.
“I wish I knew,” Ashlyn said, visibly unsettled. “Voshell found out and was furious. He feared Navok might use them as leverage against the whole of Wenderall, including Caramor, so he confronted him and demanded a guarantee of safety for his kingdom. But Navok didn’t like that Vosh wasn’t acting like a weak-minded pawn, and when Vosh threatened to break their alliance, Navok laughed and said, ‘Go ahead’ right before he —” Ashlyn exhaled unsteadily, before finishing, “Navok attacked him. If Serafine hadn’t interrupted them, Vosh would be dead right now, rather than on his way back to Terith and preparing to close Caramor’s borders. Mirraven’s closest ally — Navok willfully destroyed that. And he did it laughing. That means there’s more going on here than any of us realize.” Her focus returned to Kiva. “And something tells me it all has to do with you.”
Everyone in the room was as still as a statue listening to Ashlyn, even Cresta, who had paled significantly toward the end of the princess’s speech, as if finally realizing the gravity of what they faced.
But Kiva couldn’t think about Cresta, her mind too busy processing Ashlyn’s words. She wondered how badly Voshell had been hurt, whether the closing of Caramor’s borders would affect the rest of Wenderall, and what would happen to Serafine now that the alliance — and therefore her betrothal — had been broken. Her thoughts spun until she realized the others were all watching her, waiting for an answer.
“I already told you everything Navok said to me,” Kiva croaked to Ashlyn. “He thinks my magic” — she shot a quick look at Jaren, wincing as the damning word hung in the air — “can combat Zuleeka’s. But he’s wrong, because when I tried to fight her, I failed.”
“You didn’t,” Caldon disagreed, his unusually grave eyes on Kiva. “You broke her hold on us.”
Kiva shook her head. “That took almost everything I had, and it still wasn’t enough to keep her from — from —” Her eyes flicked to Jaren’s chest, right where Zuleeka had stabbed him, and she rasped out, “I couldn’t stop her. Whatever Navok thinks, whatever my mother told him, I’m not powerful enough.”
She turned back to Ashlyn, silently begging for help. The princess eyed her closely, then sighed and said, “I think we’ve all had enough for tonight.
In the morning, we’ll talk with Galdric and see what he can tell us about Navok and Tilda. Hopefully he’ll be able to shed some light on the situation with the anomalies — and with Kiva.”
“Galdric?” Torell repeated, his forehead scrunching.
Kiva cursed quietly, having forgotten all about the supposedly dead ex- rebel leader who had likely already been delivered to the base.
After hearing their quick explanation about how he’d been waiting in Navok’s dungeon as a wedding gift for Kiva, Torell looked stunned, but Cresta just drawled, “This is lovely and all — weddings and reunions and people coming back to life — but have you decided what to do with us yet?” She held up her re-bound hands. “Can I take these off again?”
“No.”
The word came from multiple voices — all three Vallentis royals and Eidran — causing Cresta to grumble under her breath and slump down in her chair.
But then Caldon mused, “What are we going to do with them? She escaped Zalindov — do we just send her back? And Torell . . .”
Kiva’s heart jumped to her throat as he trailed off, and she turned pleading eyes to Ashlyn for what felt like the millionth time that night.
The princess sighed again and said, “Let’s sleep on it and figure that out in the morning. They came here for Kiva — they won’t try to escape without her.” To Eidran, she said, “Take them both to the barracks and allocate them bunks, but make sure they remain under watch all night.”
When Cresta’s stomach rumbled loudly, Ashlyn added, “And have someone bring them some food.” To Kiva, she said, “You should eat, too. You haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“That’s what happens when you knock me out for an entire day,” Kiva muttered, but her voice carried more than she’d intended.
“You knocked her out?” Caldon asked Ashlyn, his eyes narrowing.
“Only so she wouldn’t do anything stupid while I went to spy on Navok and Voshell,” she answered, brushing a wrinkle from her apron. “It was for her own good.”
Caldon frowned. “You make it sound like you were at Blackmount today. But Zadria is hundreds of miles away.”
As Eidran began to lead Torell and Cresta away — the former looking at Kiva like he wished he could stay by her side, and the latter merely yawning again — Ashlyn quickly explained about Galdric being an anomaly who had used his air magic to help them escape, causing wide eyes around the room. No one was more surprised than Torell, who heard
everything just before Eidran prodded him out the door, and who had clearly been oblivious to the ex-rebel leader’s magical ability.
“Can you do the wind tornado thing?” Caldon asked Ashlyn, curiosity lighting his features. Kiva tried to focus on the conversation, but she was achingly aware that she was now alone in the room with the three Vallentis royals, one of whom would normally have been an active part of the magical discussion, but no longer had any power. Because of her.
“I’m not sure,” Ashlyn said. “But that’s something I’ll be asking him tomorrow.”
With how much they’d been through that day and all that was still ahead in the morning, Kiva felt suddenly exhausted and was desperate for someone to show her where she could sleep. But her night wasn’t over yet, and she knew that when her eyes skittered toward Jaren, only to find him already staring back at her.
Her chest constricted, and she made herself hold his gaze, keeping her face as open and remorseful as possible. But her hopes for any kind of reconciliation were dashed when he turned to Caldon and said, “Bring her.”
“Jar —”
“Now, Caldon.”
Caldon planted his feet. “It’s late, and she’s been through —”
Kiva had no idea what was happening, but her alarm grew when Jaren leaned forward, his voice low as he repeated, much more firmly, “Now, Caldon.”
And then he turned and strode out of the command center, clearly expecting them to follow.
Caldon swore and looked at Kiva with an apology in his eyes. “I know you must be tired, but this hopefully won’t take long.”
“What’s going on?” Ashlyn asked, staring at the door, her face puzzled.
“I know he’s upset by . . . everything . . . but he’s never acted this way before. Jaren’s not the kind of person to lash out or —”
“He’s been through a lot,” Caldon defended him.
“We’ve all been through a lot,” Ashlyn returned, her voice hard. “Some of us have even been through it alone, and still managed not to lose ourselves in the process.”
Caldon flinched at the barely veiled reminder of how he’d avoided her for years, but he only said, “Jaren hasn’t lost himself. The first few days after the masquerade were . . . not great . . . but he’s adjusting well,
considering. He’s only acting this way because of —” He stopped talking, but he didn’t need to finish. They all knew Kiva being there was what had set Jaren off.
She blew out a breath and said, “Come on, we’d better follow him before he has something else to be angry at me about.”
Caldon was reluctant, but when Kiva threatened to wander aimlessly around the base until she found Jaren herself, he finally led the way out of the command center, winding a path through the luminium-lit military buildings. Ashlyn walked with them part of the way before stopping at the entrance to a watchtower that reminded Kiva a little too much of Zalindov.
The princess waved them on, saying she’d find out what all the fuss was about later, but for now, she needed to locate Captain Jenaire and update her about the Mirraven situation.
Caldon said nothing as his sister disappeared into the tower, and Kiva wondered how she might encourage him to mend their relationship, before noting the set of his features and realizing that now wasn’t the time. Instead, she kept in step with him and asked, “Where are we going?”
“To see Naari.”
Kiva stumbled slightly. “Jaren wants me to see Naari? Now?”
Her insides twisted as she wondered how the guard would react to seeing her, after everything that had happened. Naari, who valued honesty and loyalty above all else.
When Caldon remained silent, Kiva’s nerves grew, and she hedged, “Maybe we should wait until morning. I’d hate to wake her.”
“That’s exactly what we want you to do,” Caldon murmured, but he said no more because they’d arrived at a clean-looking building with a healers’ emblem carved into the side, indicating it was the base’s infirmary.
Jaren was waiting just inside the door, impatience radiating from him as he grabbed Kiva by the arm and dragged her through the quiet, sterile space, past empty beds, right to the end of the room where a white curtain was drawn. Through all this, Kiva was aware of nothing but his warm fingers wrapped around her elbow, certain he had no idea he was touching her, even if she felt his strong yet gentle grip right into the very core of her being.
Her heart sang at his nearness, but the feeling evaporated when he released her to pull open the curtain, revealing Naari’s still form lying beneath a white sheet.
The guard could have been sleeping, her amber eyes closed, her normally alert features relaxed.
But with a single glance, Kiva knew that wasn’t the case, and she staggered backwards, colliding with Caldon, who had halted directly behind her.
She barely felt him steadying her, her horrified eyes locked on the guard — and on the familiar black shadows of Zuleeka’s death magic swirling around Naari’s body.
