Kingsbane

“Have you told Remy?” he asked.

“No.” She glared at the nearest flickering candle until her eyes stopped stinging. “He thinks Red Crown is out there right now, searching for her.”

“And you believe Simon and Zahra?”

“About my parentage and my power? I don’t want to.”

“But you do anyway.”

“You weren’t there that day.” She shut her eyes against the memory of the battle in Karajak Bay, but that made the images even more vivid. “The things I saw—the things I did—shouldn’t have been possible. And yet they happened all the same.”

Harkan made a thoughtful sound. “Couldn’t it have been an ordinary storm? And, perhaps, since you had endured so much, you were susceptible to Simon’s suggestion? He offered an interpretation of what was happening, and you accepted it in the moment because the stress was so immense.”

“You’re asking if I was simply hysterical?” Eliana interrupted sharply.

Harkan’s reply was as gentle as his circling thumb. “I’m trying to find an explanation that makes sense.”

“I’ve tried that already. While it was happening, there on that beach, I felt something moving inside me. A force. Every lightning strike, every gust of wind, tore through my body like blows of pain. Like…” She paused, considering how to describe this impossible thing to him. “Like when you awaken the morning after a hard job, and your muscles ache—except a hundred times more painful, and it was as though I could feel every ounce of my blood, every inch of every muscle, and it was all erupting, all scorching. I could feel the ache being made. I thought it would tear me apart.”

She realized she was clutching Harkan’s tunic and released it at once.

“Could it have been someone else doing that?” he suggested. “Maybe someone else nearby, conducting magic, and you were simply feeling the effects? Maybe Simon—”

“No. It was me.”

“But how can you be sure, if you’d never experienced anything like that before?”

Eliana sat up, resisting the urge to shove his arms away. Her body itched to move. She pressed her palms hard against the bed.

“If you were standing in a crowded room, where everyone was talking,” she said, “and the layers of sound were so immense that you could hardly hear yourself think—if, in such a place, you heard me calling for you, you would recognize my voice, wouldn’t you? And you would follow it until you found me.”

“Yes. I would follow you anywhere.” He found one of her hands, kissed her rigid knuckles. “I did follow you.”

That voice, that tender touch, would have once melted her. Now, she bristled at it. His gentle presence inexplicably grated against her nerves.

“Well, it felt like that for me, on that beach,” she said sharply. “I knew that power belonged to me, even though it felt unfamiliar, even though it frightened me, just as I would know your voice anywhere and know the rhythm of my own breathing.”

That made her think of something, and she did soften then, and could hardly look at him, remembering the years of his quiet loyalty. “We never talked about it, and I thank you for not ever pressing the matter, but surely you noticed that any injuries I sustained while on a job didn’t last. You heard the rumors, just as everyone else did. The indestructible Dread of Orline.”

Harkan’s gaze was steady. “I did.”

She pulled away from him, wishing their conversation would rattle him. Only moments ago she had been steeling herself against the possibility of him pushing her away, of his disgust and judgment. Now, with him gazing up at her, acceptance plain and soft on his face, Eliana found herself craving a fight. How could he still look at her that way, just as he’d always used to, when everything had so utterly changed?

It would be easier if he recoiled, if he accused her of keeping secrets. If he lashed out at her, distrusting this new creature who looked like his oldest, dearest friend but had become something else entirely.

But instead he watched her, waiting for her to speak, and in the unbearable silence, Eliana wished suddenly for Simon to come storming in and say something nasty or scornful, so she would have an excuse to jump out of bed and hit something.

She rose and began to pace. “Remy thinks the reason for that indestructibility was my power. For years it lay dormant inside me, and its presence protected me from harm. It repaired me when I needed it, gave me incredible strength and resilience.”

“And now that your power is no longer dormant?” Harkan asked.

She stopped to look out the windows, the mountains rising dark beyond the glass. She touched the tiny lump on her skull, still tender from Navi’s attack, and was mortified to feel tears gathering in her eyes once more.

“God, what’s wrong with me?” she muttered. “I’ve cried more in the past two weeks than I have for the whole rest of my life. I’ve been reduced to some kind of weepy child.”

“What can I do, El?”

She wiped savagely at her face. “Now that my power is no longer dormant, it appears I’m no longer as invincible as I once was.”

“You mean, now you can get hurt?”

She moved her hair aside to reveal the still-healing cut. “I’m fragile. I’m vulnerable.” She spat out the word. “I could forget myself in a fight and get badly hurt, leaving Remy unprotected. And…”

But then came a thought she couldn’t bear to voice. That the pain she had craved for years, had relished, had sought out with every job, every fight and kill—the pain that had reminded her she was alive, that she was untouchable, that she could not and would not break—was now something she must guard against.

Harkan came to her, reaching for her face, but she jerked away from him.

Immediately, he withdrew. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” She resumed pacing. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“Simon and Zahra told me that my mother—the woman who gave birth to me—is the Blood Queen. Queen Rielle Courverie of Celdaria, of more than a thousand years ago. The Kingsbane. The Lady of Death.”

“I know who Queen Rielle is.” Harkan smiled softly. “Remy has told me many stories about her.”

Eliana closed her eyes at the mention of Remy. Harkan touched her hand, and she once again flinched from him.

This time, he could not hide his hurt. “I’m sorry, El, I just thought—”

“That we would fall into bed together,” Eliana said harshly, “just like we used to?”