She bowed her head. “He’s woken up.”
54
Bastian
Orpha had already tried to get him to talk the messy way.
Granted, things could get messier, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d talk.
But I had another way, potentially.
After I ensured Kat was safe and we received a report confirming the last of the Horrors had been dealt with, I apologised to Faolán for how I’d spoken earlier. I was about to march headlong into a quagmire of guilt—I needed to get forgiveness where I could. He shrugged and clapped me on the shoulder in wordless acceptance.
That was one of the comforting things about Faolán. Simple and straightforward where so much of my life was… not.
With a heavy step, I set off for a small house on a side street and steeled myself to face the last person in Tenebris who wanted to see me… who just so happened to be the only one who could help.
I knocked. There was no answer.
Of course not. He probably knew it was me.
“Let me in,” I called, knocking again.
Nothing.
“I’m not going until you do.”
I could hear the sigh in my head a moment before he opened the door.
Chest tight, I faced my father.
Stone-faced, jaw set, he stood in the doorway. “What the hells are you doing here?”
Oh good, so it was going to be as friendly as usual. I pulled myself tight and straight, masked with professional detachment. “It’s for the security of the realm. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
“Of course it is. What else could the Serpent of Tenebris possibly be interested in?” His smile wrinkled his nose, sardonic and sneering.
“I’m not discussing this on the street.”
“And I’m not discussing this at all—not with you.”
But when he went to close the door, he found my foot in the way.
“Three minutes. Let me in. Let me talk. And then tell me to fuck off.”
He exhaled through his nose as he stepped back. “Two minutes.”
I gritted my teeth as a dozen familiar scents and sights hit me. I couldn’t let myself focus on them. I wasn’t his son—not right now… maybe not anymore. If I allowed myself to see the books on military tactics that had been Baba’s or his carved deer on the shelf, I would be that boy in the stables again. Their scrawny child who adored them for teaching him, for laughing at his jokes, and for the simple fact that they loved him.
And the Serpent of Tenebris couldn’t afford to adore anyone.
So I screwed my eyes shut and turned as he closed the door. Arms folded, he raised his eyebrows. “‘The security of the realm’—is that how you describe what you did to your father?”
His hurt hurt me, as painful as the slice that father had delivered across my chest and belly—an injury I’d been lucky to survive.
“I’m not going to get into another cyclical conversation with you, Athair.”
His jaw flexed and I thought he was going to tell me not to call him that, but his gaze flicked over to the orrery on the mantelpiece. “A minute and a half.”
Had he looked this cold as he’d led those families to the Horrors in Innesol? Or had his dismay shown? He’d always been the one to express his emotions, where Baba hid everything behind a stoic mask.
Athair’s face dropped. “Innesol. You went there. You… you saw.” Back bowing as if all his vitriol turned inward, he spun on his heel, and once again, his pain wounded me.
“You were in an impossible situation with only terrible choices.” I wasn’t sure if I was telling him that or myself. “It meant you survived long enough for you and Baba to—”
“Don’t lecture me on terrible choices, Bastian. I could’ve chosen to die rather than…” He shook his head. “Rather than doing what I did. That is always an option.”
One I’d considered for a moment during my battle with Baba—for as long as it had taken him to cut me from collarbone to bellybutton and step back, eyes wide at the blood spilling from me.
“Die and give up any power you have to affect the world for better or worse, you mean?”
“Exactly,” Athair rasped. “Some people shouldn’t have that power.” He turned and I understood what he was thinking.
I shouldn’t have that power.
If I didn’t, Baba would still be alive.
His expression hardened. “What did you come here for?”
“I need a favour.”
He scoffed, raising one eyebrow. “You have fifteen seconds before I tell you to fuck off.”
“The attack.” That would be enough to tell him how important this was—not to me, but to Elfhame. “I have one of the people responsible. He won’t talk. But you could scrape his mind, find out where their base is, how many there are, what they really want.” His gift was a rare one—there was no one else in the city who could do this.
His lip curled. “You might be willing to do anything for your queen, but I am not. I don’t toy with people’s minds without their consent. Not anymore.”
“But—”
“No.” His voice boomed in my head as well as around the room, silencing my arguments. “You’ll have to find someone else to do your dirty work.” He opened the door and gestured out into the night. “Now, fuck off.”
55
Bastian
Folk swept the streets and set to work on repairs while low laments drifted through the crisp night air. They nodded as I passed, and some placed a hand on their heart as they did.
Even though I wasn’t deserving, I touched my brow in acknowledgement.
I still wore my bloodied and acid-pitted armour. There was a good chance it was about to get messier, too.
My jaw tightened the closer I got to the Hall of Healing, and when I entered and spotted Elthea, my blood boiled.
“He’ll live.” She indicated a door at the far end of the wide entrance hall—one I’d never entered before.
I arched an eyebrow at her as she fell into step beside me. “No favours this time?”
“This isn’t for you. It’s for Elfhame.”
The sun had set now, but it had still been high when Orpha brought the man in—Elthea was under no obligation to help. Useful to know she would forego a favour for the realm’s sake.
“Who’s with him?”
“No one, currently. I was just in there making sure he was… comfortable.”
“Good.” I went to open the door, but she hung back. “Not joining me?”
Her usual calm stiffened—not quite a change in expression, but almost. “I’d rather not. There’s nothing for me to learn about his health from your… activities.”
My teeth ground behind my smile. “Ah, so you like torturing human patients, but when the subject is a traitor responsible for dozens of deaths, suddenly you can’t stomach it. Noted.”
She backed off a step, perhaps mindful of the fact we were past sunset. Dusk was ascendant now and I could order her to accompany me. For a second I was tempted, but this would be easier without any interference, so I dismissed her and entered.
Another bright space, like her treatment room, but this one had a chair at its centre and a slumped figure strapped to it. Blood and dirt caked the Ascendant’s dark hair and clothes. It had once been a smart uniform but from the tattered hems and tears on the knees, it looked as though he’d been dragged across the ground for miles. Maybe that was how Orpha had brought him here.