“And your Rivet. And your Revolver.” Florence grinned, opening her eyes halfway. She felt drunk off fatigue and high on the remnants of adrenaline. “It doesn’t matter what you want to call me. I promised the Vicar Alchemist I would get you to Ter.1, and you can bet that’s what I’m going to do.”
Derek rolled on his side, settling next to her. She watched him until her eyelids were spent and her neck was too exhausted to fight gravity a moment longer. Her head tipped onto his shoulder and Derek kept his arm around her.
They both stank of perspiration and blood, but neither cared. He tilted his head, resting it on hers. “Don’t be an Alchemist next.”
“Why?”
“Then you won’t need Nora or me.”
She huffed at the notion. “I don’t need you now.”
He chuckled by way of agreement.
“But I like having you both around,” Florence confessed. The two had been annoying for her, but it would be lonely without them on the journey. There was comfort to be found in the warmth of another, and the radiant heat reminded her for a moment longer that she was not alone.
22.Cvareh
The wind was still under his heels as Cvareh sped through the halls of the Xin Manor. Arianna was back sequestered to her room, only placated with the promise that he would return later to explain the Crimson Court in full. Ever since Zurut informed him that the Court was coming to Ruana, all he could think about was what he had to do to help Petra and his house.
For all the urges he felt toward Arianna, Cvareh would not let his loyalty to Xin be shaken. She was a new presence in his life, and he was loath to admit that she would likely force herself to be a temporary one. But his House would be his family forever. It was his home, his legacy, the greater picture of which he was only one small part.
He ignored all others, focusing on the one place he expected to find his sister. Up a curving stairway, he ascended to the heart of Xin Manor. The ancients lined the walls. Dragons with mighty bat-like wings and mouths filled with pointed teeth hovered overhead, sculpted with lifelike precision. Candlelight flickered over their faces, slowly diminishing into nothingness.
Cvareh emerged from the smothering blackness into a room of pure light, feeling like he had been born again in the process. His eyes narrowed to thin slits, adjusting to the sudden change in brightness. They found the room’s focal point. Not any sort of art, but a woman. Muscles bulged from her skin, fueled by frustrations that Petra had yet to relinquish. Her eyes were locked on the Temple of Lord Xin, visible in the far distance through the glass windows that made up more of the walls than the stone.
“Brother.” Petra shifted slightly on the pedestal where she sat.
He accepted her invitation, sitting on the opposite edge. He leaned so their backs and heads would touch. One mind, one body, one unit that existed for House Xin. Cvareh closed his eyes and readied his ears for the words of the Oji.
“Yveun seeks to root out weakness in our House.”
“He does.”
“I informed Cain that all are to be ready, that we are to be the ones to fight duels. We will open our land to his Court, but I will not give him our blood easily.”
Cvareh expected no less. “I will seek out Finnyr for potential challenge opportunities.”
“Let it be done.”
None could ever say that Petra hesitated. In moments she could assess a situation for an opportunity and decide upon the best course of action. It was more than Cvareh could do in hours some days.
“I cannot keep you from this Court.” Her voice shifted slightly at the mere notion of him.
Cvareh gave the world a tired smile. “We knew this day would come.”
“I cannot stand for you.”
“I understand.”
Petra could stand for nearly anyone in House Xin, but not Cvareh. He was her brother and the chosen Ryu. All eyes turned to him to defend the House in her name and carry the title of Oji should she be felled in some form of misfortune other than a sanctioned duel. He would have to defend himself, or he would never be accepted as the Ryu again.
“How many could you kill?”
Cvareh considered it a long moment. The first time he’d really put training to application was on Loom, and that had been a failure overall. Though using any combat against Arianna was entirely unfair… Responsibility suddenly crushed him, the supports that held it over his head breaking the moment he awoke to the real truth of his standing.
“No more than three beads.” He put it in the perspective of the King’s Riders—a somewhat universal standard for the might of a warrior.
Silence was Petra’s way of screaming her displeasure. “You must work with Cain.”
