Forty-Nine Roccurem

Another squeal came from above, followed by the splash of water hitting the floor. Logan’s cobalt gaze remained fixed on a spot across the room. Seeing them up close, I was utterly aware of how wrong Dianna was that they no longer contained any spark of life. I felt it as a small drum sounded in a vast valley. It was a whispered call for help, so far out of reach.

“Are they always like this?” the elf Orym from Flagerun asked as he entered the study.

I turned from the window and regarded him, slowly sipping my tea. His hands were in the pockets of the smooth, black attire Samkiel had acquired for all of them—a new set of clothes for his wayward allies. Orym’s tail swished, and he glanced toward the ceiling.

“The lack of their mark forms a hollow ache. It is a desire to be completed. Mated pairs usually settle after the mark has sealed, but until then, they tend to mate furiously. It’s natural. Nature demands its completion and seeks to seal their souls.”

Orym’s gaze landed on me with a flash of pain. I placed the teacup on the small coaster Miska had found. “You think of your lost mate, yes? That emptiness as well. It’s not jealousy that marks your words, but pain.”

He sat with a huff, placing one long leg across the arm of the chair. “You really are a fate.”

“That I am.” I nodded and gave him a small smile, hoping to put him at ease. “You should enjoy their copulation.”

His face turned up in disgust. “Excuse me?”

“It is far better than what they used to do. What the universe demands.”

Orym’s death glare eased as he glanced up, the sounds from above gaining in intensity. His tail swished from side to side.

“And what did they used to do?”

“Try to destroy each other.”

He huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that seems hard to believe. Since I’ve met them, they can barely keep their hands off each other.”

A grunt echoed from above, followed by more water sloshing. This time, a dark spot formed on the ceiling.

“It wasn’t always such. There was even a period of time I assumed she would win.”

“Win? Kill him?” Orym’s throat bobbed. “You think she could beat him? The actual World Ender?”

I raised one leg, crossing it over the other. “Absolutely. Dianna’s power stems from a part of her she gained from a complete loss of control. It is angry and dark and the definition of wrath. She could burn the very stars from the heavens if she wished. Her power is old, very old, and so is her anger. At times, it is evil.”

The room grew thick with tension and unease. I saw the knowledge in Orym’s eyes and knew my words were only a confirmation of what he had already sensed.

“Why doesn’t she? Could save us all from this war.”

“Do you believe that to kill a fire, it is appropriate to add more flames or extinguish it?”

“I just mean, why hasn’t she? Especially if you make it seem as if they were enemies.”

A blissful giggle filtered through the ceiling, and a slow drip of water fell onto Orym’s leather pants. He sighed and flicked it away.

“Because of love. Only her sister reached that celestial part of her, and now he does. He is order. She is chaos. One cannot exist without the other, and if she were to lose that, war would be the least of our problems.”

Orym’s eyes softened. “She had a sister.”

“And she damned near destroyed the world when she lost her. Imagine what she would do for him.”

Orym glanced up as the sounds of their coitus continued.

I reached for the tea Miska had crafted for me, my headache roaring back to the front of my eyes, and took a sip. The pain subsided, and I sighed in relief. “He finds peace in her, even before he knew what she was to him. It is something he has never found with another. I watched it from above. How that heart he’d encased in ice began to slowly beat once more.”

A grunt came from the hall and not one of pleasure, like those from above. Savees leaned in the doorway, taking up the entire frame with his bulk. His ears twitched as he glared at the ceiling.

“They don’t sound as though they hate each other now,” he snarled. “I hate Otherworldly hearing.”

“I assume it is treacherous for a Q’vineck.”

Orym jumped from his chair, nearly toppling it as he scurried to the other side of the room. Savees just rolled his eyes, those twin tails flicking in annoyance.

“You were with me for weeks, and now you fear me?”

Orym’s chest heaved. “You lot are supposed to be extinct.”

Savees’s teeth flashed, the white stripes along his neck darkening. “Don’t worry. We are now.”

I sipped at the calming liquid in my cup and regarded him. “I was surprised to see Nismera attempt to capture you. Your kind are a ferocious, rebellious bunch. I’m surprised she wished to claim you.”

His smile held no humor. “Claim is not the right word.”

“What?”

Savees cut a glance to Orym. “Whatever she needs creatures for, it is not for an army. I fear it’s much worse.”

“I think your concerns are an accurate assessment.”

Savees ran a hand behind his ear and glanced up again. “Samkiel needs to be careful with her.”

Orym snorted. “I think she can handle it. Trust me, I’ve been around them for weeks.”

Savees’s tail twisted in irritation. “That was not what I meant. She is power, power the Otherworld is raising its head toward. They will come for her. If they haven’t tried to already.”

“They will taste Samkiel’s steel if they even try,” Orym said.

Savees nodded in agreement before reaching behind him and pulling the thick hood over his head. He shifted his cloak, hiding his tail as it wrapped around him and secured the clasp at his neck. “When they finish, tell them where I went, won’t you, fate? I have a few people who I think will join the World Ender,” he said and strode from the room without waiting for a reply. Orym visibly relaxed once he was gone.

“You fear the Q’vineck?” I asked.

The noises above reached their crescendo, and Orym shifted his feet.

“I’ve heard stories of the giant beast they turn into. Fangs sharper than steel with claws to match. Their ferociousness in battle rivals even the Ig’Morruthen’s, and I’d prefer all my limbs stay attached.”

I turned toward the lost Elvian prince, who was completely unaware of his heritage or fate, and smiled. “I would not worry about the Q’vineck.”

His eyes caught mine, questions burning in them. “Who should I worry about?”

The ceiling groaned as wood split. With a crash, Samkiel and Dianna fell from above. Water sloshed from the tub, and the beams beneath the floor cracked with the weight and force of the fall. Samkiel held tight to the edges of the bathtub, and Dianna’s wide smile faded as she lowered herself under her king, her cheeks staining pink with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. “Sorry.”