26. The Biblical Bond

26. The Biblical Bond

Skylenna

As we sit in thestadium, I sip on the honey of Sweet Nectar Valley.

Gerta rubs a milky substance on my back, and Dessin refuses to be next in line. After a few minutes of arguing, he lets Warrose put the cream in his wounds. And of course, Warrose doesn’t help the cause when he makes jokes about getting an erection from all the creamy lathering.

“You okay?” I ask Niles. He’s been quiet for several minutes, which must be some kind of record for him. He’s sitting right next to me, legs crossed, fiddling with the iron collar and chain around his neck.

“Not really,” he answers.

“Let’s talk about it.”

He shrugs. “It makes me nervous about what Kaspias implied last night.”

“Me, too.”

I glance over at Marilynn stirring more of the milky concoction for Dessin’s back. Her features are soft yet striking. Shiny red hair, plump cherry lips, a face of freckles, and sapphire blue eyes that seem to hold so much knowledge. I had a weird feeling about her when she joined us on this voyage. Maybe I should have trusted my instincts.

“She’s a good person,” he claims warily. “I’d stake my life on it.”

“I’m not sure I would.”

Marilynn tries not to glance over at Niles, but I can tell it’s hard for her. If she is a traitor, could it be that her feelings for him are being faked? Is she acting?

“You know our first night here, I woke up in a blinding pain from my burns. Marilynn didn’t sleep that night because she put pressure on certain parts of my foot, relieving the pain for me so I could sleep.” His brow pinches, and he rubs his eyes with a rushed exhale.

My heart gives a violent thump, and I gawk at him in surprise.

“I—I didn’t know she did that,” I say breathily.

Why would she do that for someone she didn’t know? Was that all a ploy to get us to trust her? But if so, why wouldn’t she share what she did with the group? Why be modest and keep it to herself?

“I can’t believe she’s a traitor. Kaspias had to be lying.”

“Okay.” I pat his knee. “Kaspias was lying.”

Niles nods with a sniffle, and I know there must be more to his mood.

“Is there something else that’s bothering you?” I ask.

Niles’s attention is fixed squarely on the dirty floor under his feet. There’s a sudden weight of sadness that drapes over his eyes, carrying a thick sheen of unshed tears. It begs for the bittersweet, chest-opening release that comes from finally crying.

“I miss Chekiss,” he whispers thickly.

Damnit. Hot tears well in my eyes, too. “Me, too.”

“We’re his kids, you know that, right? He’s probably so scared, Skylenna. What if he thinks we’re all dead?” A strained sob breaks free of his tight hold.

“No.” I shake my head fiercely. “He knows we’re alive. He has to.”

Niles covers his eyes with one hand, silently crying to himself. “I just want to give him a hug.”

The tears overpower my lids, streaming down my cheeks. The heartache is tangible, a dull and quiet pain in the pit of my stomach. I’m afraid if I stay here too long, thinking about falling into Chekiss’s arms, the grief might swallow me whole.

“We’re going to see him again,” I mutter wetly.

“Yeah,” Niles agrees.

A soft pressure appears on top of my head, and a pair of hands pull my long hair back over my shoulder. A subtle breeze carries his familiar scent of cedar, reminding me of our days under the Red Oaks. Our adventures traveling through the forests of Dementia.

A final tear slips from my left eye as he sits next to me, wiping that tear away with his thumb. I smile sadly at his gesture, sliding my hand into his as he studies the glistening tracks of tears that run down my cheeks.

“I’m not crying, I had something in my eye,” Niles argues to literally no one.

“It’s okay, Niles. I miss Chekiss, too,” Dessin says softly. So soft, so kind, so gentle.

“You do?” Niles arches an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Yes. And you can cry in front of me. I’m not Dessin.”

My head perks up, turning to the tall man sitting next to me with wide, glossy eyes. I study his easy posture, his tender eyes, his caring expression.

“No…” I gasp, my heart doing a dance of cartwheels in my chest.

“I missed you, honey,” Kane says with the sweetest smile in the whole world.

A desperate whimper bursts from my lips as I throw my arms around Kane’s neck, careful not to touch his wounded back. He hesitates, his arms hovering over my back, quickly realizing he can’t hug me the way he wants to. Kane settles for placing his hands on the unharmed skin at my waist.

I cry against his shoulder like a small child. “What’re you doing here?”

Our friends stop talking among themselves as they try to understand my sudden outburst.

“I heard you cry,” he murmurs against my hair. The heaviness in his voice strikes a nerve deep in my bones. A memory that used to be thin as smoke, now cold iron in my hands.

When we were young, Kane hated hearing me cry. He never said as much, but there were times that I had a bloody nose or a broken arm, and he’d pull me from the basement. I’d throw my arms around his neck and burst into a flood of tears, bawling against him in both relief and devastation. He’d hold me fiercely, stroking my long hair, telling me that I was safe.

I thought he was as immovable as stone. A strong, unbendable force. But one day, he had to step inside the basement because I wouldn’t leave the corner I was planted in. It was then that he held me, and he shivered. In the reflection of two mirrors, I saw that he was in tears. Shuddering as he soothed away my demons.

And it’s in the storm brewing beneath those coffee-colored eyes, the way his massive shoulders slump forward, the damp heat permeating from his hands.

Kane still hates to hear me cry.

I weep harder, my tears dripping down his chest.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here,” he rasps unevenly.

“It’s okay,” I whimper. “You’re here now.”

Kane pushes me an inch away from our embrace, cupping my face like I’m a breakable little doll. A fragile treasure he wants to keep safe from the rest of the world.

“I can’t stay long.” The long line of his throat ripples. “I told you I had a bad feeling before we left for the ship.”

I take my hands off his shoulders to wipe my eyes, soothe the puffiness in my cheeks.

“You were right,” I mutter sadly.

If we never came here, I wouldn’t be separated from DaiSzek or Knightingale. Chekiss wouldn’t be worrying himself sick. I’d get to see Kane all the time.

“I have another bad feeling, honey,” he warns, planting a small tickle of uneasiness in my stomach.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. We need to get out of here.” The cords in his neck pull taut, and as his jaw hardens, I can see he’s grinding his teeth.

I let out an exasperated breath.

Kane takes a hesitant look around. “I can’t stay long,” he repeats.

Tears rush back to the surface as I comprehend saying goodbye right now. I feel like a little girl all over again, watching Young Kane close the secret basement door, shutting me back into the cold darkness. I used to wave to him as I bawled loudly, hiccuping in uncontrollable gasps for air. I knew it broke his heart to leave me, too.

“Dance with me before I go?” he asks with his forehead pressed to mine.

“Okay,” I sigh, rising to my feet, not caring if anyone thinks we’re nuts for this.

Kane places a warm, large hand on my waist and reaches for my right hand. He rests his chin on the top of my head as I snuggle into his chest. We sway in silence.

“As old as night, was it a star that was split from shining too bright?”

I peek over Kane’s shoulder to see Warrose closing his eyes, singing for us. A rugged harmony building into a haunting rhythm. Warmth that can only be summoned by the love of family spreads from my scalp to the tips of my toes.

“Oh, heaven’s sweetest answer. Oh, heaven’s greatest treasure. Come to me, my soaring mate, for I have no wings to reach you. We were made to follow fate, not even the devil could undo.” Warrose’s voice carries, raspy, deep, and soulful. The notes shift through him, settling a lull over all of us.

I close my eyes against Kane’s chest, breathing in sweet memories that radiate from his skin onto mine. Bathing in the Red Oaks lagoon. Climbing trees. Chasing DaiSzek. Sleeping under the stars.

“Would two flames be born just to collide? Oh, oh, oh, come to me, my sinking mate, for I have no boat to reach you. We were made to swim with fate, not even the storm could undo.”

“I love you, Skylitte,” Kane whispers, slightly detached.

In a panic, I reach up to my tippy toes, desperate to kiss him before he leaves the front. Kane blinks in surprise at my brisk movement but closes his eyes to press his warm lips against mine. I sniffle as I open my mouth for him, feeling only a beautiful surge of love plow through my body.

In a blink of an eye, we’re standing in Ambrose Oasis. But somehow, it’s different. The sky is a soft shade of indigo, the stars twinkle through the misty clouds in the middle of the day, and everything is at peace.

I gasp, and it’s like it never happened. We’re back in the stadium. We’re standing in front of our friends, Niles and Ruth wiping tears and grinning up at us. And Warrose is still singing.

“Did you see that?” I ask, but the surprised look on his face tells me he did.

“What was that?”

A booming sound blasts through my ears, making my brain vibrate, my world tilts on its unstable axis. And I have to slam my hands over my ears to try to muffle the sound. It doesn’t work. The sound roars through every fragment of my being. I fall to my knees in crippling shock.

“Skylenna?”

The sound crashes through me. A warning. An alarm. A horn of something almighty.

“What’s wrong?” Dessin. It’s Dessin kneeling in front of me, hands gripping my shoulders. Those dark irises pinning me down with concern.

“That noise!” I hiss. Don’t they hear it?

“What do you hear?”

“It’s so loud!” I stutter, gasping for air.

“Skylenna, focus. What is the noise?”

I shake my head. I’m going to faint.

“Visualize the sound, baby. Tell me what it is.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Letting the earthquake pull me under. It’s enormous, great in power, like a…

“Lion,” I choke out.

“A lion?”

“No,” I say, letting the beast’s roar form in my head to completion. “A RottWeilen.”

“DaiSzek,” Dessin exhales.

His colossal howl rumbles across an ocean to reach me. I can see the ripples of dominance his voice carries. I sway with dizziness, grasping at what he’s trying to tell me. It’s urgent. It’s fierce. It’s shining like a lighthouse in a storm, piercing through space and time.

“He’s calling to me,” I finally state, realizing everyone is huddled around me.

“Is he trying to tell you something?” Dessin pushes his question like it’s life or death.

“Yes!” I lean into that beautiful, terrible sound, begging to understand his meaning. And it hits like a meteor shower. “He’s coming for us!” I nearly scream. “Oh, Dessin! He’s coming for us. He’s not alone! Oh my god!”

Ruth is the first to jump to her feet with an squeal of excitement. The rest of our friends follow her lead. Warrose whoops with a fist in the air. Niles leaps with Marilynn in his arms. It’s a combustion of happiness, relief, and love.

Dessin stares at me, breathing hard against my mouth.

“He’s not alone?” he asks with joy and hesitation clouding his dark gaze.

I breathe in the RottWeilen’s cosmic call, examining its depth, its range, its coded message.

“He has a great number at his back!” I remember what I told him when I visited Knightingale and him on the beach. “He did what I asked! He gathered the colonies.” My voice breaks off at the end, twisting into a happy cry.

Dessin grins, kisses me feverishly, then pulls away in thought.

“Judas said there would be a war,” he speculates.

I look away. “Six months.” That was what our coded messages from him revealed. How long has it been since we were in that asylum?

“This has to be it.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “We’re going to make it out of here, baby. We can’t let DaiSzek do all of the heavy lifting for us.”

Electricity passes from my breath to his.

“It’s time we made our move.”