“And Cielo?” I ask, thinking about my friend, who I asked to risk it all…oh my god. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“He will face trial and severe punishment. His station is not as elevated as mine.”
That makes me stop, a rush of emotions pulsing through me once more: anger, grief, guilt. My mind conjures up the dilapidated warehouse, the leaking roof, the crumbling walls.
“He’s not as elevated as you? Well, that’s fucking obvious. I’ve seen where he lives. How you treat him. Oh my god. He’s so fucked, isn’t he?” My steps falter, and I press my hands over my face as a sob threatens to break free. “Oh hell. This is all my fault.”
Rathyn stops and glances down at me once more, his tail reaching out and tightening around my thigh. “It is not your fault, my Everest.”
“It is. I should have found another way…I should have pieced it together, but it’s so hard when I know nothing!” I grab at my hair, feeling tears sting my eyes.
“There was no other way.”
I inhale roughly. “There’s always another way.”
He says nothing for a long time, and my mind wanders back to the cave as we make our way to the apartment. The mood between us is tense, but there’s nothing that can be done to fix it. Cielo is gone, and it’s not like my anger and indignation can change class issues in the Vyastil society.
I broke the rules by going without an escort. Cielo broke the rules by agreeing to help me.
I feel like I damned us all, and I’m so lost because nothing is what it seems. Walking into the living room, I flop down on the couch and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to hold back tears. I will do something about Cielo. I don’t know what, but for now, I know I’m helpless.
I hear Rathyn moving around, probably doing something with his healing herbs, and he comes into the room a few moments later with fresh bandages over his chest. I wince at the sight, but I’m not feeling very fond of him right now.
“You are angry.”
“I’m confused. And sad. And yeah, angry.”
He perches on the cushion beside me, and when he reaches for me, I stiffen. He pulls his hand back. “My Everest. Ask your questions. I will do my best to answer what I can.”
I swallow thickly. I want to ask why he’s okay with the way Vyastil from the Outerlands are treated, but I don’t think that’ll get me anywhere. So instead, I think about the Tarek and what he told me, and eventually ask, “What is a VySytheh?”
Rathyn visibly stiffens, and he says nothing.
“Don’t fucking ice me out. It clearly means something, and I want to know. That Tarek obviously seemed startled that you can read my mind and I can read yours. And I think you’ve been keeping the reason from me.”
“It is not for humans to know or understand,” he says.
I pull back like I’ve been slapped. “Really?”
“My Everest…”
“Whatever.” I’m too damn tired to fight him on this. I’ll make him tell me later. “I don’t care anymore. This whole thing fucking sucks.”
Our eyes clash, and I see the way his ears flutter. He’s as upset as I am, but he’s also injured. I need to give him what I can so he can heal. So he can face the tribunal, strong and assured. I can at least offer him that.
“I want to go to Cielo’s trial. I want to be there,” I say as Rathyn tries to get himself comfortable on the cushions. The strain on his body is evident.
“That is not possible.”
“Fuck that. I want to be there. He’s my friend.”
Rathyn freezes, his ears bent down, his eyes flashing. “Vyastil and humans are not friends!” His voice makes me pull back slightly.
“What? What the fuck?”
“Humans are simply a tool.”
I stare at him, horrified, my lips parted, my cheeks flushed. “Oh, is that what I am? A fucking tool?”
