Eissa hums low in his throat, and I turn to look at him. The look he’s giving me makes me shrink back, holding my tongue. My sudden urge to engage in fisticuffs with monsters twice my size dissipates immediately.
In his eyes is a warning not to do it, no matter how much I want to.
Rathyn says something in Eretharian, and I hear Eissa respond. He looks almost sad as he utters it. They carry on discussing something, and it pisses me off that they’re not including me.
But that thought dissipates when the guards rush at us.
Only, they don’t grab me, or Rathyn.
They take hold of Cielo.
For a moment, I do nothing but stand aghast for a few seconds before lurching forward, only to be brought back by the twist of Rathyn’s tail around my waist. “No, human. You stay with me.”
“But…they’re taking him!” I shout, feeling like everything is tipping sideways. “They can’t take him. He did nothing wrong.”
Jyrion scoffs. “Human. Listen to your keeper. You know nothing of our ways. You cannot speak about the law of Erethar.”
I glower at him as Cielo struggles for a moment, trying to escape before something shifts, and I see his shoulders slump as he’s led away. It’s a terrible sight, one I never want to see again. Guilt claws at me, making my eyes sting and my chest ache. What’s going to happen to him?
Oh god. This is my fault. I made him take me to his world.
Whatever happens sits solely on my shoulders.
I feel a prod at the opening of my mind, a small stroke, a reassurance before it disappears entirely.
I glance at Rathyn, who is standing stoically, not showing that his wounds are still healing. It bothers me for some reason, but once again, I say nothing. Instead, I turn my gaze to Eissa, begging him with my eyes, “Help him.”
But he’s not looking at me, the lowly human. He’s speaking to Rathyn. I turn my furious glower on Jyrion instead, but all he does is smirk, making my entire body shake with rage.
Eventually, Eissa steps forward, a sad song in the air, and he clasps something around Rathyn’s wrist. It’s a bracelet, thin and metallic, and it winds up his forearm and squeezes, making Rathyn wince.
And then it’s done, and Eissa steps aside.
The prince doesn’t go as easily. He almost seems to jeer at the sight of Rathyn wearing this band. What is it? Is it some kind of monitor?
Eissa says something to Jyrion, soft but with authority, and then the two of them are speaking in low, off-tune hums.
Eissa turns back to Rathyn and gives a small nod before guiding Jyrion out of the shed.
Rathyn and I stare at one another but say nothing. It doesn’t feel safe yet. I don’t know if they’re listening. So instead, I push the shed door open, and we step outside.
It’s still dark out, and I wonder if time moves differently in Erethar, but I don’t have time to think too hard about it because Rathyn is rubbing at his arm where that metallic band is pinching his skin.
“What is that?” I ask quietly.
“A way to track me.”
My eyes widen. “What?Why? You’re not going to run, are you?”
“No. It is an insult more than anything. I will not run. I will face the tribunal with pride.”
“A tribunal?” I ask, my voice trembling. “For what?”
“For breaking the rules. For allowing you into my world without an escort.”
“Do they know how you showed me the way?”
“They do not,” he says, glancing down at me, his hand going up to gingerly clutch his bruised chest. “And they cannot. They think I must have told you more than you have a right to know.”
