The Half King

18

The sunset runes hadn’t come with a set of instructions, but according to what Cerise had learned from Daerick, she was meant to cast the dice at twilight, and then the corresponding runes would indicate how far to travel and in what direction for the following day.

She glanced at the position of the midday sun. With roughly five hours until sunset, there was no way of knowing which direction the caravan should go from the summit. Any time they spent in the saddle might be wasted.

“We have the runes,” she said to the group. “Now what?”

Kian thumbed behind him at the steep trail they had scaled earlier that day. “Let’s go back to the clearing where we made camp last night. We know it’s more or less protected, and the ride is short enough that we can make it there before dark. The altitude has been hard on the horses. They need rest.”

“And water,” Nero said, nodding in agreement. “There’s a spring near the camp. And I reset all of my traps before we left. We should have a kill for supper, even if it’s only jackrabbit.”

“Then that clinches it,” Kian told the group. “We’ll retrace our steps back to the clearing and cast the runes at sunset to plan tomorrow’s journey.”

With that decided, the six of them descended the steep summit path to the thicket where they had tethered their horses and left the wagon. Then they turned around and followed the same packed dirt trail that they had traversed earlier in the day. By late afternoon, they arrived at their previous camp and divided the tasks of pitching tents, building a fire, feeding and watering the horses, and preparing dinner. Nero took Blue with him to check his traps, and they returned with several jackrabbits, which Nero cleaned and roasted on a spit.

Even though jackrabbit was Cerise’s least favorite food, she was so famished from the day’s ride that her mouth watered the entire time the meat roasted. She slid a jealous glance at Blue, who didn’t have to wait for his meal to cook. As Blue gobbled up his raw rabbit, Cerise noticed he had grown again. The sweet puppy she had once cradled in the palm of her hand was now as tall as a mule deer, and he required so much food that she had to let him go hunting alone throughout the day. She wondered when he would reach his full size. The wrinkles on his hide told her he still had yet to grow. If he continued developing at this rate, she might return to the palace on Blue’s back instead of Ash’s.

As the sun slid closer to the horizon, Cerise and the others gathered around the fire and ate a dinner of roasted potatoes, oatcakes, and seared rabbit. All except for Father Padron, who had elected to fast inside his tent. Nero and General Petros devoured their food wordlessly while Cerise sat in between Kian and Daerick, examining the markings on the sunset runes.

“Can you read these symbols?” Cerise asked Daerick.

Daerick’s mouth was full, so he shot her a look of insult.

“Of course you can,” she said. “Forgive me.”

But there was still one problem. The time to cast the dice was fast approaching, and so was the hour of Kian’s nightly disappearance into the shadows. If Cerise wanted to try to follow Kian through the portal again, she would have to fall asleep before sunset. She couldn’t be simultaneously awake to cast the runes and asleep to follow Kian into the underworld.

She glanced at the low position of the sun. Perhaps she could cast the runes now. “It’s almost twilight,” she announced to no one in particular. “The timing is close enough, don’t you agree?”

Nero and General Petros shrugged.

“I see no harm in trying,” Kian said and looked to Daerick. “Do you?”

“None that I can think of.” Daerick swept a permissive hand. “Even if it is too soon to cast the runes, I doubt they’ll explode in your face.”

“All right. Here we go.” Cerise brushed aside the dust from the ground in front of her. “Mother Shiera, mistress of worlds, please guide our path.” She tossed the dice gently, careful not to cast them too close to the fire. The dice tumbled forward, but instead of stopping, they reversed direction and rolled back into her hand.

She frowned. Maybe it was too soon.

Nero pointed at her as he paused to swallow a bite of food. “Tell the dice what you seek and then try again.”

Cerise lifted the runes to her lips and whispered, “Mother Shiera, mistress of worlds, please take me to the hiding place of the Petros Blade.” She cast the dice once again, and this time they tumbled forward and landed firmly in place. “I think it worked!”

Daerick squinted at the symbols facing up on the dice. “It seems we’re to travel southwest for twenty clicks.”

“Twenty clicks.” Nero glanced in a direction that Cerise could only presume was southwest. “That won’t be an easy ride. The trail is rough that way.”

“Then let’s make sure we leave as close to dawn as possible,” Kian said. “Everyone, rest well tonight. You’ll need your strength.”

The king’s advice to rest well couldn’t have come at a better time, because it gave Cerise an excuse to ask if anyone had a sleeping draft that they could share with her. Even though the day had been exhausting, falling asleep naturally—and into a deep enough sleep to separate her spirit from her body—might require more time than she had to spare.

“I have Hoya leaf.” Nero frowned. “But that won’t make you sleep. We can look for dream weed…”

“Shiera’s bones, no,” General Petros said. “We’ll all end up in a coma. All she needs is a nip of this.” He retrieved a leather flask from his saddlebag and handed it to her. “Arrowroot syrup. My woman at the temple makes it.” He lifted a finger. “It works fast, though, so wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now,” Cerise told him. She took the flask from General Petros and thanked him by covering his scarred knuckles with one hand.

“Sleep well, my girl,” the general said.

As he had promised, the syrup did its job.

Cerise drank a mouthful of the tonic, and by the time she had finished the other half of her oatcake and a few more bites of jackrabbit, her vision blurred and her dinner plate tilted out of her hand. Fortunately, Blue was there to rescue the meat before it hit the ground. He licked his chops and peered at Cerise for more, and all of a sudden, the sight of his round, black eyes stirred so much emotion inside her that a tear spilled free.

“I love you,” she said to Blue. She gathered her enormous pup into her arms and hugged him close, only releasing him when her muscles went slack and allowed him to wriggle free. Then she glanced at Daerick and told him she loved him, too. Daerick snorted a laugh, but she didn’t care. One by one, she peered around the group with misty eyes, starting with Kian, the dark and sultry king who captivated her with his bottomless gaze; then General Petros, the warrior with a tender heart; and finally, Nero, brave and strong. They had all carved out a permanent place in her heart.

“I’ll feed Blue,” Daerick offered, nodding at the tents. “Go ahead and hit the blankets, lover girl.”

Cerise tried to stand up too quickly, and the world slanted on its axis. Kian was already there to grip her elbow and guide her to her tent. Once they made it through the canvas flaps, he made a motion to lay her down on the blanket pallet, but she resisted and pointed at a bundle of oversize clothes that she had previously set on the floor.

“First help me put those on,” she slurred.

Kian tilted his head in confusion. “You want to change into those clothes?”

“No, put them o-ver,” she mumbled.

“Over the clothes you already have on?” Kian asked.

“Mmm-hmm. I’ll…’splain…later.”

He humored her without argument. Her dizziness made her clumsy, so it took several minutes for him to dress her in the extra layers. When the task was complete, he helped lower her body onto the blanket pallet, and then he cradled the back of her head as she lay on a pillow that she could have sworn hadn’t been there before. At once, her body melded with the soft linens, and she couldn’t tell herself apart from the bedding.

Kian propped himself up on one elbow beside her, his mouth sliding into a crooked grin. “My lady of the temple, you’re painfully adorable when you’re drunk.”

The canvas roof spun, and Cerise had to shut her eyes to make it stop. Once closed, her eyelids didn’t want to reopen. She sank deeper and deeper into a basin of warmth. Soon, her senses went blank and there was nothing.

She didn’t know how much time passed before her awareness returned. When she became conscious again, she found herself sitting cross-legged at the foot of her sleeping body, much like she had done the previous evening. She was sober now, and mortified to see how ridiculous she looked passed out with one pant leg covering her sandal, both shirts twisted high around her torso. Kian didn’t seem to mind. Still grinning, he moved his gaze over her face with a tenderness she had come to cherish more than her next breath.

Kian skimmed a delicate finger along her lower lip, and then his hand curled into a smoky shadow that quickly claimed the rest of him. The same dark portal appeared behind him, and in a blink, he stood on the other side of it, colorless, naked, fully formed, and peering into the tent as if looking for her. She knew she was invisible to him when his eyes passed twice over her dreaming form. He couldn’t see her until she stepped through the portal and joined him. Then, in amazement, he volleyed his gaze back and forth between her two forms until the portal closed.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured in awe. “There are two of you.”

“I think there’s only one of me,” she said. “I’m just divided. What you see in the tent is my mortal form. Until I come back to it, my body is like a glove without a hand. But this part of me,” she added, palming her chest, “seems to be my spirit.”

Kian skimmed a thumb along the outer curve of her neck and raised chills on her skin. “Then how are you solid?”

“Everyone here is solid,” she pointed out. “And all of them except for you have been dead for a long time, so they’re spirits.”

“That’s true,” Kian said. “Still, I’ve never seen anyone divide themselves in half, except once at an extremely unfortunate joust that I wish I hadn’t attended. You’ve accomplished something impressive, my lady of the temple.”

“Not as impressive as when you turn to shadow,” she said. “That’s an incredible thing to watch.”

“You still win.” He nodded at her layers. “You get to keep your clothes.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. That’s why I wore these.” She pulled off the extra shirt and pants and offered them to him. “To make the night a little more comfortable for you.”

Kian held the clothes against his chest with the reverence of a child hugging a treasured blanket. “They’re still warm!” While putting on the clothes, he gathered the shirt to his nose and then smiled. “It smells like you.”

“After a day in the saddle?” she asked with a grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” he told her. “I like everything about you. It’s a privilege to know the scent of your body…and the taste of it.” His eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “It’s a privilege I don’t intend to share with anyone else.”

The intensity in his lingering gaze made her blush. Her feelings were still tangled up. The goddess had found her worthy, but Father Padron’s words about her future rang in her head. And then there was the matter of the Sight. She still wanted it—wanted it badly.

Kian gently ran his hands down her arms, the heat from his palms warming her skin through the thin fabric. He took her hand in both of his and murmured, “I’m yours to command, my lady.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears. She caught herself angling her face toward his, parting her lips in anticipation of his touch. Surely, the goddess wouldn’t fault her a kiss. She’d proven as much by earning the sunset runes. So she told him, “Kiss me.”

And he did.

Their lips met, and her world exploded. The sensations rushed over her, each one headier than the last: the taste of him; the heat of his body pressed tightly against her; the sweeping, seductive motion of his tongue. She opened wider for him, taking him in, exploring his mouth until the need to breathe forced her to break the kiss.

Kian didn’t miss a beat. His lips appeared at her ear, the tickle of his warm breath sending a shiver over her as he whispered, “You amaze me. Have I ever told you that?”

She couldn’t answer him. She was too dizzy with the pleasure he created as he gently took her earlobe between his teeth and alternated between nibbling her tender flesh and suckling it.

“What you did today at the shrine,” he murmured. “It took my breath away. You have a light inside you.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “And in the moments when you let yourself shine…” He paused to lick a sensitive patch of skin, sending her blood rushing to the juncture of her thighs. “You’re so radiant I can hardly bear it. You didn’t perform a miracle. You are the miracle.”

She buried her hands in his hair and drew him closer, kissing him with a ferocity she didn’t know she had within her. But his words reminded her that they still had much to do, more miracles to perform. So she pulled away from him, even though every part of her body screamed in resistance.

He didn’t complain, but his face was at war with the same disappointment and desire that she felt in her bones.

For him , she told herself. This is for him .

She cleared her throat and used her fingers to smooth down his tousled hair. Then she looked around at the dark stone walls, trying to find something more innocent to talk about than their previous conversation.

“This place,” she finally said. “I think Daerick’s theory was right. Coming here must be a gift from the goddess.”

Kian huffed a dry laugh. “More a gift to me than to you, I’m afraid. I hate that you were ever exposed to this hell, but if I’m honest, your company is the only thing that makes it bearable.” He interlaced their fingers and held up their joined hands for show. “I still don’t understand how you can be here, but I’m grateful.”

“I don’t understand it, either,” she admitted. And she was grateful for her time alone with him, too, even though it tested her resolve.

“Come, my lady. Let me show you around.” Kian offered a gentlemanly elbow. “The night is long, and there are more comfortable places to spend it than in this tunnel.”

Cerise accepted his elbow, and they strolled through the dim corridors, filling the quiet with small talk until they reached the dilapidated courtyard and its four arched doorways. She chose a bench facing the empty fountain and sat down gradually, testing her weight. When the ancient marble didn’t crack, she patted the spot beside her. Kian sat down and wrapped an arm around her as she leaned into his warmth to stave off a shiver. She almost preferred the dark stone corridors to this. The crumbling courtyard was like a cold, black mirror to civilization, reminding her with every glance of how far removed she was from anything civil.

“What do you think this place used to be?” she asked. “The courtyard, I mean. It’s the only part of the labyrinth that looks real, like it was something that actually existed.”

“I asked myself the same question when I first came here,” he told her. “It took me moons to figure it out, but I eventually found a sketch in an old record book that belonged to the distant grandfather of the palace groundskeeper.” He indicated the fountain and the marble benches surrounding it. “A thousand years ago, this exact courtyard stood at the heart of the shrubbery maze in the east garden.”

“The shrubbery maze.” She glanced at the four arched doorways, recalling how many hours she had lost trying to explore their twisted passages. “Does that mean the stone labyrinth is meant to represent the garden maze?”

“I can’t say for certain,” Kian said. “But it would seem that way.”

Cerise tilted her head and studied the fountain, looking for details that might set it apart from any other lawn ornament in the mortal realm. As far as she could tell, there was nothing special about it. The marble benches seemed equally ordinary. The timing, on the other hand, was undeniably significant. “A thousand years ago. That was when the Great Betrayal happened.”

“Which I’m sure is no coincidence,” Kian said. “I think something sinister happened in this courtyard—something so offensive to your goddess that she recreated the scene here as a reminder to those she condemned to suffer.” He released a bitter huff. “A pity she didn’t think to give us infinite memory so we would know the reason for our punishment.”

Cerise tried to imagine what kind of offense could have taken place in a courtyard at the heart of a garden maze. A forbidden rendezvous, perhaps. Though the courtyard had changed over time, it was still being used for secret meetings. That was where she had stumbled upon Delora and her lover.

“I can only think of one possibility,” Cerise said. “No one knows what role the Mortara dynasty played in the betrayal. I always assumed it was house Mortara that brought the other noble houses together. If I’m right, maybe this courtyard was where it happened.” She swept a hand toward the scattered benches. “Maybe this is the place where the four noble houses met and agreed to try to murder the goddess. I can’t imagine anything more sinister than that.”

Kian made a throaty noise of agreement, but his thoughts seemed to have shifted. “I don’t want to talk about your goddess anymore,” he said quietly.

She matched his smile. “She’s your goddess, too.”

“As you continue to remind me.”

“Because you continue to forget. But I won’t hold it against you.”

“Then I’ll hold you against me,” he told her, and he embraced her in his warm, powerful arms. “Not even the blasted Order could object to that.”

Cerise nestled against him, resting her cheek against the solid plane of his chest. She couldn’t imagine such an objection, either. And she would take refuge in a chaste embrace for now.

Because soon, it would be her Claiming Day.