Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I crept away from the fire and over to the cave. Nothing stirred save for the faint flicker of the candle. I pulled the curtains open just slightly and peeked into the small room. The candle sat on a block of wood beside the bed. Dakin had created a nest out of his own sheets, and nestled in the center lay Qita. The cat wasn't in the typical ball but was stretched out on his side with a blanket laid over him up to his shoulders.

"You're letting a draft in." The voice was weak but still held that bite that so characterized the cat.

"I'm sorry," I apologized as I slipped inside. "I was just wondering how you were doing."

The cat opened his eyes and their shine had lost some of its luster. "I feel as if a herd of qasi had run me over."

I eased into the seat beside the bed and looked him over. Even after such a short absence, he looked gaunt, and occasionally his whole body would twitch. I grasped my hands together in my lap and bit my lower lip. "I'm so sorry. . ."

His ears twitched. "For what?"

I bowed my head and stared at my fumbling fingers. "That dart was meant for me, but you caught it to save me. What happened to you is all my fault."

The cat studied me for a long moment before he turned his head slightly away from me and scoffed. "Even after hundreds of years, I fail to understand you humans. You accept blame where this is none and you never fail to get me into the worst kind of trouble."

"But-"

"But nothing," Qita scolded me as he whipped his head back to glare at me with illuminated eyes. "And wipe those tears out of your eyes. I never could stand to see a human female cry." He adjusted his spot beneath the covers and sighed. "Such a blubbering nuisance. . ."

"Then you need to at least let me thank you," I insisted as I leaned forward closer to the feline. "And I feel I really do need to thank you for risking your last life to save me." His whiskers twitched, but he said nothing. "This is your last life, isn't it?"

Qita sighed and his body drooped a little. "Nobody likes to admit how old they are, even we cats."

"Then you're not really six hundred years old?" I asked him.

"I might be a little older than that."

His evasive reply piqued my curiosity. "How much older?"

"A little older."

A smile crept onto my lips. "Come on, Qita. Don't you want to tell me about your grand and impressive age?"

His tail twitched slightly beneath the covers. "I know what you're doing, human. You're tempting me."

I shrugged. "What could it hurt to tell me?"

The cat rolled his eyes. "Very well. I told you my grandfather witnessed the destruction of the old capital?"

I nodded. "Yeah. That happened over a thousand years ago."

"Well, that conversation might have happened because we were reminiscing about that time."

My eyes widened. " You were alive then? A thousand years ago?"

"Don't act like that!" he scolded me as the blanket was thumped with even more force. "I was just a kitten! Hardly more than twenty!"

"But you still remember it?" I persisted.

His tail relaxed and he shrugged. "Just bits and pieces. My granddad was reminding me of what happened to us as we escaped the destruction. Our. . .our human companions weren't quite so lucky, nor were many of my siblings."

His words sucked all the enthusiasm out of me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

He had a faraway look in his eyes as he shook his head. "I would rather remember them than forget."

I scooted forward onto the end of my chair. "What do you remember of that time?"

His whiskers twitched again as he stared ahead. "Flood and fire. Screaming and shouting. All of it mingled into a single night of catastrophe. The rising of the Thaqiba broke with the rising of the dawn." He shifted beneath the covers as I watched the memories flood across his eyes. "I can still remember seeing them for the first time, standing there in the middle of devastation. The unceasing tide of water that crashed one last time against their barrier before it receded into the ocean, and all was calm." A deep sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes. "I think I'd like some calm now. . ."

I was disappointed, but I smiled at him as I stood. "Thank you again."

He wrinkled his furry brow. "I said there was no need for that, human."

I leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his brow. His eyes were big and I swore I could see a faint blush glow from underneath the fur on his cheeks. "You have a big heart, Qisa."

The cat shifted beneath the blanket and closed his eyes again. "Y-yes, well, that's enough thanks for one night. Now get out of here so I can get some sleep."

I slipped out of the cave and plopped myself on the overturned log beside Ben. He set his half-finished bowl on his lap and studied me. "You look as though you have news for us."

I nodded. "And do I." I recounted Qisa's tale to me down to his age admission.

By the time I was done, Ben had a bemused look on his face. "I must admit I'm surprised to hear he was so modest about his age."

"I'm surprised he's alive at all," Dak spoke up as he set about pouring a bowl of soup for me. "Somebody with knowledge I had hoped was lost put that poison on the dart."

Ben lifted an eyebrow. "What sort of lost knowledge?"

Dak handed me the bowl and jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his cave. "Knowledge only something that old would know about. Even my old man never found the exact recipe for this stuff, so potent and coveted was it. He scoured every library he could find, and some he could steal, to find that one."

"Does it have a name?" I asked him.

He pursed his lips. "Aye. It's called the King's Bane. Nobody but the royal house knew how to make it, and everyone always knew somebody had gotten on the wrong side of his majesty when they died of that poison."

I cocked my head to one side. "If nobody ever knew the recipe, then how could anyone tell what kind of poison it was?"

Dak tapped the left side of his nose with one finger. "The nose. It has the foul odor of death on it. Nothing else on the island has that scent."

"Was it perchance lost in the great flood a thousand years ago?" Ben asked him.

Dakin nodded. "That's right, or so I thought."

I studied Ben's pensive expression. "You're thinking something."

He turned his head to meet my curious gaze. "We know of some who are excavating the ruins from that time."

My mind was blank before realization struck me. "You mean Diana and the other magikologists?"

"They may have found the recipe for the poison in the lost halls of the palace," he pointed out.

"What's this about the magikologists?" Dakin spoke up as he gave us a sharp look.

Ben had a slight touch of confusion on his face toward our host. "Those who are digging up the ruins in the east toward the ghasl. Haven't you heard of them?"

A dark look settled on Dakin's brow as he shook his head. "Something of them. How did you come into contact with them?" Ben related the story of our sudden introduction, and by the time he'd finished Dakin's expression was no lighter. "They're the fools who dug up the Kneeling Stone. At first hearing about it, I thought it was Maram's people who had snooped around the ruins again looking for that temple of theirs."

"Temple?" I repeated.

He nodded. "The temple of their serpent god. He was said to be the first king of the island but he stepped down to let us rule ourselves. His followers have been looking for that place for as long as it's been lost." He lifted his bowl and shook his head. "Nobody even remembers where the palace was, much less an open-air platform with some coiled columns around it."

Ben leaned back and folded his arms over his chest as he stared hard into the fire. "It seems we have quite a few places to visit tonight."

"Getting into more trouble?" Dakin mused.

Ben smiled at our host. "It can't be avoided if we're to figure out what's going on around here. We'll be on our way after we've finished our food." He nodded at the cave entrance. "Think you could watch our friend in there?"

Dakin nodded. "Aye, but don't go getting yourselves mixed up with more of those dart spewers. You don't have your cat to stop them the next time."

Ben turned to me with a curious look on his face. "I think we may be able to avoid that again with your insight."

I blinked at him. "With my what?"

"You sensed trouble before it happened," he reminded me.

I couldn't quite understand what he was talking about before I recalled my stopping before the attack. "I just felt cold, that's all."

"Deadly peril is very much a chilling matter, especially for those sensitive enough to feel the danger."

"Well, my being sensitive made me a good still target," I pointed out.

Dakin stroked his chin as he studied me. "Sensitive, eh? Not many of you around here, anymore. Blood's getting thin and all that, even among the old families."

I shook my head. "It was probably just a fluke."

"The aqara didn't think it was a fluke," Ben pointed out before he lifted his spoon and took a sip of his soup. "But we can talk about this another time."