It isn’t until the next morning that I’m able to return to Rite Hall and force myself to feed.
Sometimes I loathe this thing that I am, but I feel better now. Stronger. Complete healing will require even more feeding, but my wounds are already mending, the gash across my face tingling, my burns tightening.
After the deed is done, I leave and stroll the cloisters. The air is still and cold, the sun rising as I walk toward the western side of the quadrangle.
Rite Hall, formerly Thamaos’s throne room, sits on the campus’s eastern side, one of ten halls that surround the courtyard and meditative garden. The north side houses the Brotherhood’s dormitories and living areas, while the south end contains their gathering, dining, and artisan rooms, still empty and quiet at this hour.
On the western side is the Triad—three buildings that mark the public areas. The worship hall and grand library, topped with gilded domes, and the central observatory—the temple’s crowning glory—domed in panels of magick-tempered glass.
As I enter the wide expanse of the central observatory, the captain of my Royal Guard, Thresh, slips through the main entrance where two night sentries wait for the day guard to take their shift.
Thresh stalks toward me across the burnished floor. Clad in bronze leathers and tall boots, he stops outside the library’s massive wooden doors where he falls into a severe stance. His feet are spread wide, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, his broad shoulders and strong chin held high.
Two torches mounted to columns that bookend the library’s entrance, along with morning’s first light filtering through the observation dome, illuminate the hall. The firelight reflects off the steel of Thresh’s cuirass and the polished hilt of his sword. It even glimmers on the strands of his short blond hair, thick and tame and golden like his skin, save for that unruly darker lock that falls over his brown eyes when he glances my direction.
As I close the distance between us, my gaze slips past my captain to the library doors. Out of nowhere, a sharp pang strikes my chest and my throat burns, the way a throat burns to release a scream. A scream that howls in the recesses of my mind, drowning out the heavy raindrops pelting the night-dark glass above.
Taken aback, I pause. Look up. I’ve just come from outside. There’s nothing in the sky other than a few puffy clouds and the promise of a cold, sunny day. Yet I’m filled with the inexplicable need to swipe at imaginary water dripping from my hair into my eyes. To rush into the library, a cry ringing from my lungs. The impulse is so strong that it takes all I have not to shove past my captain and haul those doors open.
In search of what, I do not know.
As fast as the feeling arrives, it passes. Bewildered, I swallow the tightness in my throat and keep walking, if a bit unsteadily. Thresh trains his gaze on mine for a long moment, spine rigid as a bowstring. I can see the question burning there.
Who did this to you?
I take the last steps separating us as he turns his eyes from me, staring straight ahead at the worship hall entrance instead. This is proper for the captain of my guard when standing before his prince and his men, but I sense a struggle as his throat moves on a swallow. His discomfort at looking upon me in this wounded, withered state.
“I didn’t expect you back from the coast so soon.”
Thresh keeps his voice down, low and tight. “I received word that you’d returned with Colden Moeshka and the God Knife. There must be much to do. With Vexx in the Northlands and Garujo…gone…I wanted to be here.”
Gone. As if it were that simple. As if I didn’t kill my oldest friend.
“I’m glad you came,” I tell him, focusing on the business at hand. “I need you to retrieve one more criminal from the prison. Bring them to my chambers.”
The thought gnaws at my conscience. Thresh will kill them for me, before he even brings them through my door. All I must do is inhale their souls.
A sick feeling arises anyway, and I mentally chide myself for such a reaction. Eat or remain wounded and weak. Eat or die. The choice isn’t difficult.
Thresh turns his head, peering at me from beneath dark lashes. “One more? Given your condition, my prince?” He studies me for some flinch of correction.
He’s right. Much as I don’t want him to be.
“Make it three. We’ve a trip to Un Moritra in the coming days. I need to heal faster. Three should do the trick.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Anything else?”
“Yes. Send Gavril and Crux to Malgros with a message. Alexi of Ghent and Raina Bloodgood are very likely headed to Malgros. I want them found, captured, and brought to me. Immediately. They share a runic bond, so they could possibly be a force to reckon with. But I want them in my possession. Soon.”
Another nod. “I will go to the aviary now to see Crux, Your Highness. He should be ready to fly again.”
“Make sure he informs Vexx that I want our enemies alive. Should the general feel the need to seek revenge, he may punish Raina Bloodgood before her arrival. Long as he leaves a little for me. But Alexi of Ghent isn’t to be damaged. No more than necessary.”
My captain inclines his head. “Yes, my prince. Consider it done.”
Thresh awaits my dismissal. After a wave of my hand, he turns and stalks toward the main entrance and his sentries, obedient as ever.
When he’s gone, my attention slides toward that damn library again. I can still hear a powerful rainsong dancing on the dome, rattling around like an angry ghost in the back of my mind, chased by whispers.
