31. Kai

Chapter 3 1

Kai

O ur captors are coming.

After ensuring that Rowan is safely behind me, I let my weight droop onto my left leg, feigning exhaustion as if simply holding myself upright is taking every ounce of my willpower. It's a lie, of course. The incision is a barely noticeable throb now, the immortal blood circulating through me is once more filled with magic that’s mending the tissues and returning strength. Rowan had no idea who she was helping when she pulled out the auric steel that was leaching everything from me. Will she hate herself that much more when she learns the truth and realizes that she'd had the power to end me? All she'd have had to do was push that auric steel into my heart.

Or maybe she's already done that, because no matter what happens, she already owns a piece of it.

Footsteps clatter down the stairs before the door unlocks and three cadets are shoved inside.

“Ellie!” Rowan shouts and starts toward her friend—only to trip over her shackles. I have to let her fall, because the injured Kai wouldn't have made it to her side on time. Yet when her knees rap hard against the packed floor, I feel the impact as if it were me, falling onto auric steel nails.

Ellie gives me a wide berth and offers Rowan a weak smile that cracks the dried blood by her mouth. Her auburn hair, usually pulled back in a neat braid, hangs in tangled clumps around her face. She's already shackled and has a purple bruise blossoming across her left cheekbone along with a healing split in her bottom lip. Not a recent capture then, but a relocation. While she and Rowan hobble off together into a corner, I regard the other two cadets. Collin Chambers, who looks not nearly as worked over as Ellie and another man whose name I never bothered learning.

Logan says to tell you that the inn is crawling with guards and you should do nothing stupid, Ulyssus says into my mind, not bothering to hide his annoyance at playing relay. I have informed Nyx that such a direction is impossible for you to follow.

I'm sure you did. Is there anything else? Logan has been looking for a way to get Rowan and me out, but so far the mercenary contingent around Wishing Well Inn has only been getting larger. A few more and the arithmetic with the reward money will cease making sense entirely.

Ulyssus sighs in annoyance. He is still unhappy that both Logan and I stayed with Rowan instead of going with Kyrian to rescue the pair of captured draken. Someone named Hak, who is in charge of the mercenaries, has ordered a wagon and horses prepared.

"Hey you," Mercer calls to me, interrupting my conversation with Ulyssus. "Still alive boy?"

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Don't be. You are worth more alive." He tips his head, surveying me with a great deal more attention—and experience—that I find comfortable. "I just wasn't too sure you'd stay so. Didn't look too good a few hours earlier."

I shrug.

He frowns. "Unless... have we perhaps a healer on our hands?" He looks at Rowan with an evaluative glance .

A healer sold to the right buyer is worth a great deal more gold than the commandant is offering the local drunks.

I give Mercer a condescending smile. "No healer needed. Turns out I just needed to take a good shit."

"A shit?"

"Don't mock. I'd say you owe your life to my stomach ache. If I'd shit an hour earlier, you'd be dead."

Mercer regards me with an amused glint in his eye then snaps his fingers. The underling to his right—a wiry man with a face that’s all sharp angles and deep shadows—steps forward, raising a crossbow and leveling it at Rowan.

Everything inside me goes cold.

"Wait, you don't want to kill her," Chambers calls out. "That's the commandant's daughter. The commandant wouldn't want her dead."

A corner of Mercer's mouth lifts toward a bemused smile and my hands curl into fists with the desire to rip Chambers’s head off.

"Oh, I'm not aiming to kill her," Mercer says, his voice disturbingly casual. "But sometimes people require a reminder of just how fragile their position is."

With no more ceremony, Mercer kicks my injured leg. I fall to my knees just in time for him to bury his fist into my stomach, with a powerful blow I know better than to try and block. This isn't a fight, its punishment. And Mercer knows exactly how to ensure my cooperation. He's strong for a human, his fists forcing air from my lungs with the strike I let him take. A few hits later, I swallow my pride and double over, spitting out blood from a bite I give myself. The truth, that I'm now well enough to take him apart with my bare hands and that—thanks to Rowan’s earlier effort to corrode the chain—I can break my leg shackles anytime I want—isn't going to get me anywhere just now.

But this isn’t about winning a fight. It’s about keeping Rowan safe.

Having delivered the appropriate retribution for my insolence, Mercer steps back, giving me a final appraising look. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to decide whether to press the issue further. I must have pissed him off more than I intended. But that's par for the course for me.

Very much so, Ulyssus agrees. His concern for me dissolved once Rowan removed the auric steel from my leg, leaving his usual apathetic self behind.

I’m glad at least one of us enjoyed that. There is a small wince in my mental voice, another marker of my split focus.

If you’d gone where you were needed, you’d not be here.

I tighten my shields, shutting out the rest of that conversation.

Mercer lets out a thoughtful grunt, then tosses a small sack in my direction. It smacks onto the dirt floor and rolls to a stop by my knees, spilling out a few meager rations—stale bread, dried meat, and a handful of apples that have seen better days.

“Keep your strength up,” Mercer says in that same disturbingly casual tone. “We’ll be back soon enough.”

I force myself to keep my head down as I clutch my stomach and pant like a man struggling to keep breathing. The footsteps of the mercenaries retreat up the stairs, their heavy boots pounding against the wooden steps. The door slams shut, and the room plunges back into near-silence, broken only by the faint rustle of the others adjusting their positions and the distant murmur of the storm raging outside once more.

A nagging feeling that something isn’t right about this whole set up seeps into me. It’s vague, not concrete enough to even form a coherent thought toward Ulyssus, but it’s enough to have me on alert.

I give it another beat, then push myself up where I crouch on my haunches, keeping one hand on my stomach for effect. "Well, that was charming," I mutter, then make the mistake of meeting Rowan's gaze. Her eyes are wide, filled with concern that twists in my gut like the auric steel should have done, if it had taken root.

“Kai,” she scrambles toward me with her shackles clanking against the cold stone floor. "Are you?—"

“I’m fine,” I manage to snap out. I don’t want her touching me, not when her concern makes my guilt sting even more.

Rowan looks hurt for a moment, but then her jaw sets with that stubborn det ermination that I’ve come to both admire and loathe. She reaches for me anyway, attempting to lift the hem of my shirt to examine the bruises. They are there, they just don't go as deep as she thinks. And they are certainly not behind the blood I'd spit out. But I can't tell her that, no matter how worried she looks.

It’s a necessary deception. Everything I do is necessary. Which doesn’t stop the bitter taste in my mouth.

“Ainsley, stop.” No point in hiding her name now that Chambers spilled it. My voice is hard and I catch her wrist before she can truly examine the damage. “I said I’m fine. Save your energy. And your pity.” I press the sack of food into her hands. "If you want to be useful, you can distribute these."

"Right." She lifts an eyebrow at me, but I have no idea what that means, so I ignore it and find a spot near the wall. I'm used to lying. I'm not used to feeling so stars' damned guilty for it and I need for it to go away, because when I knelt on the floor, taking Mercer's hits... part of me wanted him to keep going. The part of me that wants to somehow make up for all the wrongs I'm bringing into Rowan's life.

The other part of me though, it just wants to make it stop. This insistent, burning connection to the woman who I have no right to love. I wish I could just make it stop.

I lean my back against the stone and address the room, my eyes narrowing on Collin Chambers and the other nameless cadet. That feeling of something being off returns. "When were you taken?"

"Just took me now," nameless replies, but Chambers stays suspiciously quiet.

"It's been a full day for us," Ellie offers from where she and Rowan huddle together. "They had us down here for a bit, then in a room upstairs for a while, and now here again."

"Wait, what?" Rowan's spine snaps straight, her eyes flashing with something dangerously close to fury as she glares at Collin. "If you've been with her all this time, why does she still look like this? In fact, why are you sitting on your ass over there now instead of healing her?"

I lean my head against the wall, because I know the answer. Chambers has done the same calculation I had about a healer’s value, except his came squarely in favor of his own hide.

"Calm down, Ro," Chambers says, biting into his apple. "Ellie’s injuries are superficial at best. Bruises and split lips are part of the trade, and—unlike you—Ellie knows it. She is one of the best and toughest cadets we have. Smart tactics say there will be worse to come, and my reserves are of better use in saving a life than soothing a bruise. Unless you think a few slaps is all we can expect to see?"

"If we are talking expectations, I didn't expect you to look so remarkably... comfortable after a day of interrogation,” Rowan retorts. Good girl.

"You sound disappointed I'm not more injured." Collin sighs, shaking his head at Rowan. "I know you are upset about the breakup, but can we be professionals for the moment and focus on working together instead of against each other? That's how we get out of this mess."

Rowan opens her mouth to retort, but Ellie whispers something in her ear and the pair focus on each other instead.

"You’ve been here a day already?” Nameless asks Collin quietly. “How did you manage to… you know… keep them off you?" There is actual hope in the kid's voice, which makes me want to roll my eyes.

"It’s about knowing how to talk to people. Making yourself human to them. Real," Chambers replies, doling out his horseshit with sage sauce. His eyes flicker toward me, then back to his pupil. "The point is to accomplish the mission. There aren't bonus points for getting beaten to a pulp."

Chambers’s creative storytelling aside, there is an interesting point to consider here: Why haven’t the mercs started interrogating us all in full yet? I understand prioritizing hunting over questioning while the element of surprise remains, but according to Logan the mercs have people to spare.

I lean my head back against the wall, let the others talk, and try not to count every bite of food that goes into Rowan's mouth. She'd divided up the rations and didn't leave herself enough. I’ll need to change that.

For her part, Rowan isn't even bothering to look at me anymore.

Wasn't that the very goal you were going for? Ulyssus points out. Because you’ve been moping and whining about how much easier it would be to be separate from the human for days now.

Good stars, I’ve not had this much of a problem keeping my mental shields in place since Ulyssus first bonded me. Not that I don’t know exactly what my problem is.

Is Arianda back in range? I send back.

I am not a postal pigeon.

That's a no then, but it's still early. According to the draken, there was increased action coming from the north east, where a large contingent from Flurry had penetrated past the wards. They’d brought air support—though in Eryndor’s conditions the draken are as much a liability as a weapon—and unfortunately a pair of riderless young draken had snuck along without invitation. And paid the price. I wager the young ones didn’t even know that Eryndor doesn’t just kill draken—they collect them. Especially the female ones.

It’s bloody frustrating that even after two years here I still don’t know why they do it.

In any case, even if Kyrian’s mission to help them went perfectly, it would take him and Arianda longer to regroup with us than had passed thus far.

My job is to ensure Rowan is still in one piece when he returns. And I’m doing a hell of a good one, aren’t I?

As the hours stretch on, Mercer appears periodically to toss more unfortunate cadet victims down to the cellar before heading back out. He collects basic information from each—names, specialties, background. None of the questions are against the rules of the commandant's game, and the cadets answer easily, saving their resistance and energy for when it counts.

I settle myself into a more comfortable spot and try to get some rest, though I mostly end up watching Rowan's fitful sleep. The way she’d helped me with her magic is proof that our mission concept is right. If anyone can develop a way to reverse the effects of auric steel, it’s an al chemist. There are so many who need help and hope. Draken. Shifters. And a young dragon named Lilith.

I can’t let them all down. Even if it means destroying the world of the woman who’s taken my heart. I drop my head into my hands.

I'm still watching Rowan when her eyes flutter open, meeting mine in the dim light. For a moment, we just stare at each other across the cellar. She can’t possibly still want anything to do with me, can she? Not after all I said to her.

To my surprise, she carefully extricates herself from Ellie's sleeping form and makes her way over to me, her chains clinking softly with each step.

"Can't sleep?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

"I have a problem,” she whispers, her brow furrowed with concern as she settles down beside me. She's close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her body, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to pull her closer.

I raise an eyebrow instead. "Besides the obvious?"

Her jaw clenches further, the little muscles going taught beneath her cold skin. She gathers in on herself and I can tell she doesn’t want to be here, near me. But she looks back at her friend and then turns to me with resolve. “I need your help.”

“You have it.” The words are out of my mouth before I can consider their wisdom.

Though when Rowan nods her gratitude, I know I’d never have been able to say anything but ‘yes’ anyway.

“We can’t let Ellie be returned to the Spire. She…” Rowan’s voice drops. “She gave up her codeword. We need to get her out. Somehow.”

“Out to where?” I ask. “She’ll be charged with treason if she runs.”

“And she’ll be tortured in front of the whole class if she returns.”

“She has a chance of coming out of that alive,” I point out. “If she runs?—”

“Nevermind.” Rowan starts to get up, but I grab her wrist gently pulling her back. The touch sends a jolt of awareness through me, and I have to take a breath before I am sure I’ve control of myself .

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to help,” I say. “I just wanted to make certain you know the risks. That she knows the risks.” I catch Rowan’s wince and my brows narrow. “Is this Ellie’s idea or yours?”

"Both of ours,” Rowan admits. “She may not seem like it, but she is terrified. And she has cause to be.”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” She goes to get up and return to her friend, but suddenly I’m not ready to let her go.

“Wait.”

She does.

Which is when I realize I don’t know what to say.

“Kai?”

“Are you alright?” I ask. It’s the best I can come up with. Ellie had used her aeromancy to dry out Rowan's clothes earlier, so at least she has something dry to wear.

“Fine. As fine as anyone is. Are you alright?”

I pull an apple out from my pocket and hand it to her. “You need to eat.”

“So do you.”

“I had extra food in my pocket,” I lie. “I’m fine. Eat.”

She does, which is a relief. But it’s also the last reason I had to hold her near me any longer. I brace myself for her starting to rise, but she hesitates a moment longer.

“Is there a plan?” She asks. “Beyond waiting for them to start torturing us that is? There are eight of us here already. If we organize, could we overpower Mercer and his contingent? Wouldn’t it be better to do it soon, before they start tying our hands?”

I shake my head. “The new prisoners report that the Wishing Well Inn is swarming with mercs. They’ve made it their base of operations. If we mount an assault now, we’ll be recaptured.”

“And you think this will change? That waiting gives us better odds?”

“I think Logan will give us a signal when it’s safe to start fighting. Or as safe as it gets. Timing is a part of any battle, and yes, sometimes it means just waiting. Painfully waiting.” At least that’s all true. “Best thing y ou can do is be at full strength and ready when that happens.”

“What kind of signal?”

“I’ll know it when I get it,” I assure her. “Plus, I think the less information we share around right now, the better. Just in case questions come. Can’t share what you don’t know.”

Her face pales and I wish I could pull my words back. Still, she raises her chin like the too-brave woman that she is. “But when the time comes-”

“If Ellie wishes to avoid returning to the Spire, I will help.” I lean forward, my voice dropping so low that even Rowan must strain to hear. “What about you, Ainsley? Do you want to go back? If there was a choice.”

Her eyes widen at the question—which she obviously has never even considered before—and my stomach sinks because I know the answer before she speaks it. “I may be an enchanter, not a soldier, but I care for Eryndor no less for it. My magic is what keeps the people of Eryndor safe. I would not turn away from that just because I dislike training drills. I’d thought you’d know that about me by now.”

Unfortunately I do. But I still try, just one more time. “But you are alright with Ellie -”

“Ellie is replaceable, I am not. And unlike me, the commandant will let her die. If you can’t understand that difference?—”

“I got it,” I clip, the kernel of hope I’d been stupid enough to nurture dying a quick, deserved death. “Go rest and let me do the same.”

She does. And she doesn’t look back.

The next day, which is filled with more cadets captured, basic questions asked, and meager food distributed, Ulyssus confirms what I’d finally worked out. The reason why Ellie wasn’t turned over to the commandant already, why the interrogations haven’t started, why Logan’s been reporting more mercs gathering than the offered gold was worth is because our captors are playing a different game all together.

Hak is making plans to transport the prisoners north-east, Ulyssus info rms me. Which, if you’ve been paying attention, is toward -

The approaching Flurry fae host. The mercs aren’t playing the commandant’s game, they are selling their easy earned bounty to a higher bidder.

Good. You’re still in possession of some wit.

I rub the back of my head. Have the civilians started getting uneasy about the delay in cashing in their prize yet?

Logan said they are starting to. Ulyssus hurumphs. Or maybe he said they are smelly. I didn’t care to mind the difference.

That sounded about right. On all counts.

The mercs are having a large meeting across town in two hours time. Skeleton guard left at the inn. Logan thinks he can get you out then. Can you be ready?

I look at Rowan and beg the stars that she might one day forgive me for what I’m about to do. Tell Logan to stand down. If Hak and his crew are kind enough to give us a ride toward home, no reason to turn them down.

Approval radiates from Ulyssus and I haul up my shields.