《The Diviner》


 Prologue

    The viper lingered at the fringes of the clearing for two days, waiting. Sometimes, she basked outstretched on the granite stones, her azureous scales warming in the autumn sun. Sometimes, she watched with lidless amber eyes from the shadows of the twisted oaks. Either way, the instructions were clear.


    Wait for the harmony of the Diviner. When the legion comes to bind the break, protect what lies on the ground.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The snake knew her duty. She saw the thoughts of the god who summoned her here. She would bend to her destiny as easily and naturally as she coiled her body beneath the fallen leaves of the forest. She would seize it as easily as she ambushed her prey.


    On the night of the second day, when the moon was high and the fire was dying, she heard the keening wail of the Diviner. She followed the legion of eyes and legs that descended from the trees and crept across the forest floor, into the clearing. And then she claimed her destiny, to fulfill the will of the gods.

 Chapter 1

    Ten Years Ago...


    "Come on, girl," Uncle Marcus said as he swung his canvas sack into the back of the horse-drawn wagon, the bottle inside clanking as the bag hit the weathered wooden planks. His bow and quiver were slung over his shoulder, and he tossed my heavy cloak at me with his other hand. It drifted down onto the grass, the blue edge of it flapping in a patch of mud like the wing of an injured bird.


    "Yes, Uncle." I stood from my sun-warmed spot next to the blackberry bush where I''d been watching the spiders, time falling away in the autumn sun. Uncle looked at me with the same expression he often regarded me with ¨C a mixture of confusion, annoyance, disappointment. A touch of anger, disgust. All of it blended to make a weathered, wrinkled mask of perpetual unhappiness. It still didn''t stop me from trying to please, however. "Where are we going, Uncle?" I asked as I brushed grass and mud from my cloak and smiled cheerfully.


    "Hunting." I took a deep breath and nodded, glancing to the web as the spiders retreated into the shadows of the thicket. I looked back at Uncle Marcus, whose hazy eyes blinked at the web beyond me, his brain not registering what his eyes were surely telling him. Even from that distance of a dozen feet, and even though the veneer of his morning whiskey, he could see what I saw; the shape of a rose woven into the pattern of the web, its bright lace twinkling in the sun. He shook his head as though to clear the image, and I knew it would go to the same place in his mind where all the other peculiarities went to die. I smiled just a little to myself. "Hurry up," he said. "We''ve got to make it before nightfall."


    I grabbed my doll, Mary, from where I''d put her on the half-fallen garden fence to keep her from getting dirty, or at least dirtier. At twelve, I knew I was too old for dolls. I was too old for watching spiders, for climbing trees to call to the golden hawks that crested over the fields of wheat. I was too old to sit near the fox den, waiting for the kits to tumble over each other as they left their secret hideaway to explore the glen in spring. I was too old for all these things, but too delighted by the everyday magic of them to give them up.


    I climbed into the wagon and sat next to Uncle Marcus on the bench as he took up the reins and urged Sage forward. The old piebald draft horse compliantly started up the lane and away from our cottage, my uncle turning him left at the end and onto the worn track of the road. We walked on in silence for some time, through our town of Salina, where the squat, pastel little houses were covered in vines and the lazy brook trickled under stone bridges. The residents spared barely a glance in our direction, not wanting to meet Uncle Marcus''s eyes.


    We passed the farmlands of wheat and pastures where mares stood guard as their foals slept in the sun. We didn''t talk until we reached the wall of Antioch, a bustling town about twice the size of Salina where most people didn''t know us, or they didn''t know enough to care. The city was walled in stone, but the massive wooden doors to the road were open, people coming and going for market day. Sage pulled us past the guards standing at the chambered entrance, their spears pointing to the sky, their swords gleaming at their sides. They were motionless as boulders, except one. His gaze connected with mine. I could see his eyes widen a fraction in the shadow of his helmet. He made no other movement as I hastily looked back to the road.


    "Where are we going, Uncle?"


    "We''re stopping for lunch at the Blackbird Inn."


    "And after that?"


    "The Twisted Wood." A little gasp left my throat. The Twisted Wood was a thick forest that stretched all the way to the Artaxian Mountains in the distance. Only experienced hunters that knew the tangled mess of centuries-old oaks and thorns went into the Twisted Wood. Even then, some never came back out, and those that did had stories of unnatural things. Frightening things. Some said that shadows walked in the thickets, calling you into the depths of the forest until you lost your way, until you panicked and ran and ran until your heart exploded in your chest like a crushed berry. Some said the animals grew unusually large and powerful from eating the men that came to hunt them. Some even said a sorcerer from the mountains controlled the Wood, casting a spell over all that entered, calling them into the mountains to join a demon tribe.


    "But isn''t it dangerous? What''s worth hunting there that we can''t get back home?"


    "Hush, girl," he hissed fiercely, pulling up on the reins as we arrived at the Blackbird Inn. I leaned away from him reflexively, half expecting the sting of his palm against my cheek even though I knew he wouldn''t dare attract more attention to himself in public. As if reading my mind, he eyed the patrons sitting outside with suspicion. "I''ve found a prize that will make me rich, rich beyond imagination," he whispered, his gaze snaring mine, his whiskey breath spilling over my reddening cheeks. His eyes were like slicing shards of ice, the clearest I''d seen them since I couldn''t remember when. Something that had been absent was suddenly piercing through them. Ambition.


    I didn''t ask any more questions, not through our lunch of lamb stew and buttered rolls, Uncle Marcus washing his down with two pints of ale. We didn''t talk as we left the Inn and untied Sage, rumbling through the rest of the town and continuing west toward the Twisted Wood. Eventually, the ash and maple forest gave way to oaks, the darkness creeping through, sunlight barely touching the ground below.


    "We''re here," Uncle Marcus said. He turned us down an overgrown lane that led to a small clearing not visible from the main road. He halted Sage and hopped out of the wagon, directing me to help him to remove the heavy leather harness. We gathered a bucket of water from a nearby stream and strung a tie line between two sturdy oaks at the edge of the clearing for Sage, who started to graze seemingly without interest that he was at the edge of a fabled, haunted wood.


    "What are we hunting, Uncle?" I asked as he walked back to the wagon, pulling his bag from the back of the wagon with a clunk. His head lowered and he looked around suspiciously at the trees, as if they could eavesdrop. The glint in his grey-blue eyes reappeared. My heart danced against my ribs.


    "Rathian."


    I gasped, my hand flying up to my mouth. My skin went cold, goosebumps prickling my arms, a rush of fear tightening in my chest. "Rathian? I...I don''t understand, Uncle...How?" He smirked triumphantly, as though he''d already killed his quarry. He pulled his bow and quiver across his broad shoulder and started walking to the edge of the meadow where a path cut an opening into the dense forest. Even though he spent most of his time drinking in Salina''s single tavern, the Speckled Hen, Uncle''s body still held onto a time long ago when he was an ox of a woodsman. Before his life slowly fragmented like the jagged edges of a broken bottle. I looked back to his quiver, noticing he had replaced the fletchings on some of his arrows. I didn''t think it would be enough to take down Rathian. "How do you know he''s here? Everyone says he lives in the mountains, beyond the fog." He glared at me over his shoulder, and I knew the time for questions was coming to an end.


    "Because, girl. I know the look of fear in a man''s eyes. Real fear. I saw it in a man that came into the Hen. He looked like he''d just seen a demon. He said he was stopped here at this clearing to rest away from the road when saw it, crouched at the edge of the meadow, almost as big as his horse. A giant tiger. Black with even blacker stripes. Silver eyes that glowed. It turned and stalked into the Wood, but he said he could hear it creeping closer, he could see the eyes in the shadow of the trees." I gave Sage a backward glance as we snaked into the shadows of the path, hoping he would be safe. "The bounty on Rathian will make me a rich man," he said. And then, at just a whisper into the Wood as he led us further into shadow, "a very rich man indeed."If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    We walked for hours in silence as the afternoon passed into dusk and then night, the temperature steadily dropping. I could see my breath in the flickering light of my torch. We passed hills and creeks, rocks and roots, and twisted trees that looked like people whose bodies had contorted in a vicious wind. Eventually, we descended a hill and came upon a small clearing next to a rocky outcrop. "Good a place as any," Uncle Marcus said, scratching at his beard thoughtfully. He eyed me and shoved his bag into my arms. "Take this and find us a flat spot for the night. I''ll get wood to make a fire." I nodded, my eyes heavy, exhaustion seeping into my limbs.


    Uncle Marcus came back with an armful of wood and we started a fire, laying two blankets down on the sparse grass to sit on as we ate a ration of cured ham, bread, and cheese. I folded my arms around my legs, keeping my cloak tight against the dark and cold, clutching Mary to my chest. Uncle Marcus started his bottle of whiskey, the only sound between us the popping and crackling of the wood on the fire. Eventually, I laid down with my head on Mary''s soft body, trying to remember every detail of my mother''s face in the darkness.


    It was much later when I awoke to a familiar sound. It was my uncle, his voice bitter as he whispered fiercely to himself. I tried to keep my breathing even as I cracked an eye open and looked over at him. His first whiskey bottle was empty, and he was a quarter through his second. The fear spiked in my chest as he glowered over at me and caught me staring. The gleam of ambition in his eye returned, though now hazed by the whiskey.


    "Get up, girl. I know you''re awake."


    I sat up slowly and pushed the hair out of my face, pulling Mary to my chest. "What is it, Uncle? Have you seen Rathian?"


    "No," he hissed, spitting into the dirt next to him. "No, I have not."


    "Maybe we should try another day?" I didn''t think he could hit a cow at ten feet away with an arrow given how much whiskey he''d had.


    "No." He took another long draw from the bottle, a dark look of determination crossing his face. "I''m not going back there without my prize." Uncle set the bottle down, exchanging it for the empty one while standing up. He stretched his back and lurched a drunken step toward me. "I''m not going back to that fucking village with those assholes judging me. Always judging me. No."


    "All right, Uncle," I said, as composed as I could, trying to diffuse his simmering anger. I scooted back on my bum, wanting to put distance between us. My heart was clawing its way up my throat. Uncle took another step toward me, then another.


    "No. It''s not all right. We''ll be waiting here on our asses for days at this rate. What we need is to lure him in. What we need is bait." My eyes locked with his for the briefest moment, his pupils constricting, and a breath later he crashed into me. We tumbled and twisted away from the fire as the impact of his body knocked us both through the night air. Landing between a rock and his crushing weight, the bones of my forearm snapped with an audible pop. I screamed and screamed as pain erupted across my left arm. I cried his name just as the bottle connected with my head, and stars exploded across my vision, the edges caving into darkness. "You lay there now," he said close to my face. I could feel his hot breath on my cheek as he pressed my head into the mud. "When Rathian comes, we''ll all be free of this miserable life."


    Clutching at consciousness, tears streaming down my face, I could hear him lurch away to the edge of the meadow. I held tightly to my upper arm, lying on my right side as my feet thrashed on the ground, desperate to climb out of my pain. I could feel the blood soaking the sleeve of my dress and didn''t dare look down, my stomach churning with adrenaline.


    I realized then that this hunt was always just for him. He would be rich, not we. He would claim his prize, not ours. "Uncle! Uncle!" I screamed his name through the pain and hurt and betrayal, my heart twisting. I tried to never be a nuisance, to not object when he spoke cruelly to me. I tried not to cry when he struck me, or scream when the leather of his belt connected with my back in a drunken rage. I tried not to feel hurt that he didn''t even bother to use my name anymore. I was just Girl, a burden to him. But I had never deserved that pain. And I didn''t deserve this.


    I don''t deserve this.


    Left as bait by a monster, for a monster. Left alone in the haunted Wood.


    I don''t deserve this.


    I cried quietly to myself, tears mixing with the blood that started to stream down my face from where he''d hit me with the bottle. My head felt like it was a barrel of water. Everything seemed so heavy. The world seemed to slosh around me. I closed my eyes tightly, my breathing starting to slow as the throbbing in my head and arm took over all my thoughts. It was all I could think about, all I could feel. I turned slowly onto my back, holding my arm to my chest, trying to will the throbbing away as I opened my eyes again and looked at the stars visible above the clearing. My chest heaved as I thought about how truly alone I suddenly was.


    I don''t deserve this.


    Something started pooling inside me, heating up the center of my chest, rising through all the other emotions and through the pain, blotting them out. My breathing sped up. Deep, pumping breaths powered through me, mist billowing from my mouth into the cold night. The heat in my chest spread through my shoulders, into my stomach, down my legs. It spread until it consumed me.


    It was rage.


    I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. I screamed until my voice cleaved into two voices, a harmony of screams, my own and something lower. Something...otherworldly. My voices screamed and screamed until I suddenly registered something crawling across my face, my eyelid instinctively closing as the whispery tickle of it moved from my cheek toward the cut on my head. I blinked, and in the abrupt quiet in the absence of my screaming I heard a rustling. I turned my head, blinking through my tears.


    Spiders.


    Hundreds, maybe thousands, crawling toward me from every direction. I didn''t move, just watched as they scuttled toward me, over me, some stopping around me to create a swirling mass of black and brown and green bodies framing my own shape on the dirt. A cluster of them gathered on my broken arm and started furiously spinning layers of webs. They were attaching my arm to body, immobilizing it. I watched in fascination, barely moving, until I heard another rustling sound, something larger than before. Tilting my head, I watched as a sleek form twisted toward me through the short grass and wound through the rocks. The viper moved slowly but determinedly toward me as the spiders separated to make room for it to pass. Its tongue flicked, eyes on mine. I couldn''t break the sudden, foreign connection of its lidless stare. Its eyes were like chips of amber in the firelight.


    Suddenly I saw myself in my mind''s eye. The image was overlaid in my thoughts over what my eyes were seeing - the viper gliding toward me across the blood-soaked dirt. Its arrow-shaped head crested over my chest, its muscular blue body coiling on top of mine. It raised its head, staring into me. I saw my own startled eyes and parted lips almost as clearly as I saw the snake''s own face in front of me, its eyes boring into my mind.


    Still.


    It was a sudden whispered word that came with the image in a voice I didn''t recognize. A smell accompanied the image and word... like rotting leaves, moist earth. I knew it was not my own voice nor my own thoughts, and I knew it wasn''t human. The viper was communicating with me. I was seeing its thoughts.


    Still, the voice whispered again.


    There was a crashing sound of brush and broken branches, and I heard the uneven steps of my uncle approaching. I tried to tilt my head backward to look at him, but the voice came again.


    Still.


    "My gods," he said slowly, drawing out the words. He sounded awestruck. The spiders still scurried around me but had moved off my arm, which was now immobilized with webs. The snake stared into my eyes, showing me myself as it swayed gently from side to side. "My gods," he said again. "You will be worth ten times what Rathian is, girl." I blinked in confusion and darted my eyes toward him where he now stood to the left of my head. He carefully took his bow from his shoulder, gripping the limb of it like a club, drawing his arms to one side in preparation to swing. I knew he was going to strike the viper.


    A savage hiss erupted from the snake. It coiled and struck before he could bring the bow down, catching my uncle in the hand with a crush of its fangs. My connection with the viper was broken but I didn''t move, even as my uncle wailed in pain and shock. He dropped the bow and grasped his hand where two fang marks oozed bloodied poison.


    The viper coiled back to my chest and prepared for another strike just as a loud, slick-sounding crunch filled the night air. Something hot sprayed across my face. I turned away on instinct before a gurgling sound drew my terrified gaze back to my uncle. Blood gushed and bubbled from his throat, limbs twitching, his eyes wide with shock, his body lifting off the ground. A set of powerful jaws gripped his neck from behind. The teeth pushed harder into his neck, crushing his throat, his eyes going dim and unseeing.


    The jaws of Rathian then let him drop to the ground beside me. The silver eyes of the giant tiger bored into mine and I felt a sudden wave of both satisfaction and disgust.


    It tasted like iron and whiskey.

 Chapter 2

    Ten Years Later...


    "Quinn! Quinn!"


    I laughed as Adri called after me from below. She was running along the lower pre-wall of the castle, keeping pace easily, her leather soles tapping quietly in the night. I ran high above along the narrow stone ledge of the defensive fortress wall. I glanced down at Adri''s shadowed figure before skipping into a handspring, the ledge was just wide enough to place my hands on the cool granite with my fingers curling over the edges. I picked up my running tempo as soon as my feet landed. "Oh dear gods, I will kill you myself!"


    "You can''t!" I laughed, "It''s Balthazar''s turn to try." Adri cackled back in the dark.


    "You''ll probably die from his stench before he even has a chance to lay a hand on you."


    "No truer words ever spoken."  We slipped into silence as we approached the twin gate towers where the guards would be lazily pacing among the defensive chambers. I watched Adri hop down from the pre-wall and disappear silently beneath the shadows of the forest while I picked up speed along the ledge. I refocused my attention on the gate tower, launching myself into the night. As soon as my hands and feet made contact with the cool stone surface of the tower, I bounced away, my body twisting, my eyes instinctively locked onto my landing spot on the edge of the lower pre-wall. My knees absorbed the shock and I bounced and twisted again, flipping away from the fortress and landing with a soft thud on the balls of my feet.


    "Show off," Adri teased as she emerged from behind an oak tree.


    "I only do it to make you laugh," I said, taking my bag off of my shoulders as Adri did the same. I undid the ties of at the front of my dress and pulled it over my head. I was already wearing my black lace-up breeches underneath, and I pulled a hooded black tunic and cloak out from my bag.


    "Aside from Balthazar, who else is on the list for this evening?" Adri asked as she tied her cloak across her shoulders with long, graceful fingers.


    "Andreas is first, I believe, and then Rolfe. I think that''s it."


    "Well," she said, pulling down her silver mask and settling it into a comfortable position. The splayed wings of a butterfly were delicately painted in white and gold across the eyes and cheeks of the mask, the lips in a blush pink. "I think you should make easy work of the first two, but Balthazar will be out for blood since the last time you broke his nose."


    "I can''t imagine why, since I made him so much prettier," I said with a smile as I pulled on my own silver mask. Painted in white with black and blood red roses covering the upper half of the face and red lips to match, I considered it my lucky charm. We pulled up the hoods of our cloaks and stashed our bags beneath the low-hanging branches of the oak, then set off for town, sticking to the edges of the houses and buildings where we weren''t likely to be noticed. We crept to the back entrance of the Theatre, located on the far side of town close to the community''s low defensive wall.


    "Evening, ladies," Gregory said as we approached the back door. He stood aside for us to pass.


    "Evening, Gregory. Looking handsome as always," Adri''s musical voice was so charming that Gregory developed a deep blush up his thick neck, despite having never even seen her face. She trailed her fingers across his broad chest as she passed by him through the door. "You do such a good job keeping the Theatre patrons in line."


    "Yeah, well, word is that Balthazar is out for your blood this evening, Miss," he said, tilting his bald head in my direction. "I may be able to keep the patrons in line, but no promises about the fighters." I stopped next to him in the doorway, my head only coming up to his collarbone. I peered up at him, though he couldn''t see my eyes through the fine black mesh I had secured across the eye slits to obscure my unusual irises.


    "Gregory," I said, patting one of his thick pectoral muscles. Gods, it was hard as stone. "I wouldn''t dream of it any other way." I gave him one last pat and caught up to Adri with a skip, looping my arm through hers, both of us giggling with mischief and excitement. A fight was already underway, two slight but muscular men circling each other on the thinly matted floor. Sweat rolled down their spines, and both already had a collection of cuts and welts. The familiar scents of drinks and blood and sweaty men filled the room. The patrons yelled and cheered for their contenders from the wooden railing skirting the fight pit, some holding up coins, some sloshing ale on themselves. The tables toward the edges of the room were all taken, so we went to stand under a window along the back of the room where we could hope to have some fresh air.


    "There''s Rolfe," Adri said as we took off our cloaks. She nodded to a table across the pit from us. Rolfe was leaning casually against a chair, his black hair flopping over his forehead as he laughed at something a seated companion said. He was lean and tall, and didn''t look like he should be a proficient fighter, but he was. I wasn''t worried about facing him, however; he always had the same shortcomings - he was too interested in showmanship and too worried about ruining his handsome face.


    "Looks like he''s having a good time," I murmured as he laughed again. There was a red-haired woman at the table, who I could tell was beautiful despite the distance, and a dark-haired man in a grey, fur-lined cloak who sat facing away from us. There was a sudden mix of cheers and shouts, fists thumping railings, drinks on tables clanking, boots stomping the floor. We looked back to the fight pit where one of the men was lying prone, out cold, while the smaller of the two threw his arms in the air triumphantly. His mahogany-coloured skin was gleaming with sweat, and blood trickled from the split lip of his wide grin.


    "You''re up," Adri said, holding out her arms to take my cloak. I handed it to her and checked that my long hair was still secured in a low bun before pulling up the hood of my tunic. "Good luck."


    "I might need it today," I said, motioning toward Balthazar as he strode into the room across the pit from us. He spotted me immediately and pointed, then punched his meaty fist into his open palm. I bowed theatrically in return, rising to sweep my hand down the nose of my mask before putting on my prettiest pose. Adri and a few onlookers watching our exchange laughed, including Rolfe and the red haired woman.


    "Up next tonight, we have the mighty Andreas of the Artaxian Mountains," said the booming voice of Caspar, owner and ringmaster of the Theatre. He turned a circle in the ring as the defeated opponent from the previous match was carried out by his companions. Caspar stretched his muscular arms out wide to encourage cheers from the crowd, his black tattoos barely visible on his dark skin. Andreas passed through the parting crowd with a group of his friends clapping him on the shoulders as they followed him to the edge of the pit. "And fighting Andreas tonight is the undefeated champion - the feisty, the fearsome, the formidable...Flower of Fidelium!"


    A salvo of cheers and boos filled the Theatre as I made my way to the pit. I felt a momentary satisfaction that my cheers were louder than those for Andreas. I ducked under the railing and entered the pit, placing my hand over my heart as I curtseyed to Caspar and then to Andreas. Yelling and jostling surrounded us as men placed bets and argued about odds, Andreas warming up by boxing the air and dancing around in his bare feet. I harboured no ill will towards him, and I''d faced him a few times in the last few years. He''d landed a few solid punches, but he mostly felt like a warmup dummy to me.


    "Fighters, you know the rules. No weapons. Last one standing wins." Andreas and I nodded. "Begin!" Caspar yelled as the crowd roared. Andreas and I both crouched, circling as we each looked for an opportunity to catch the other off-guard. Andreas lunged first, trying to grab my shoulder, and I ducked low to avoid him. He spun as I came up behind him and trailed a punch with him, but again he was too slow as I bent quickly to my left. He regrouped and we started circling each other again. We traded a few light blows, but we each blocked the other easily. He was testing me out but I knew he would get frustrated quickly, which was always his weakness, and sure enough he took a risky opportunity at a big punch with his right arm. I bent backward as his fist cut the air over my chest. It felt like slow motion as I continued the dive, planting my hands on the floor as the momentum of the backflip brought my legs through the air. My left foot connected with Andreas'' jaw, sending him reeling away to the edge of the pit.


    I landed in a crouch with the crowd cheering and shouting and banging on tables and railings. Andreas still stood, rubbing his jaw. He shook his head and brought his fists up defensively, ready to continue. This time, I rushed him, running toward his blocky frame. What he couldn''t know is that I received a flash of the image in his mind of what he thought would happen as I ran toward him, and I knew then that he expected me to jump up and kick him in the chest. Instead, I dropped into a slide, my feet connecting just above his ankles. He hit the mat with a thunderous whack. I was on top of him before he had a chance to get his bearings, delivering two punches to the left side of his jaw in quick succession, followed by another to the right. That time I heard a crack and a groan of pain from Andreas. I wound up for another punch on his left but stayed my arm.


    "Yield!" I yelled at him. He groaned and I hit him again, cocking my hand back for another blow. "Yield!" Andreas tapped the mat, turning his head to the side and spitting out blood.


    "Andreas yields!" Caspar boomed. The crowd roared as I jumped off Andreas and offered him my hand to help him up. He took it, and gave me a quick pat on the shoulder before shuffling dejectedly into the audience.


    Rolfe was called next into the pit. He was taller and leaner than Andreas, with a boyish handsomeness that was somewhat diminished by his awareness of said handsomeness. He had a kind of grace and charm that was better suited to sword fighting than ring fighting, though he''d been bested at that too by none other than Adri. Still, he was a sly opponent who I knew could fight better than he cared to.


    "Lovely to see you again, my feisty little Flower," he said, sweeping my hand up as he bowed and bringing it to his lips. Always the showman. The crowd whooped and cheered. I curtseyed in my own dramatic fashion before pulling my hand away.


    "It''s been a while, Rolfe. What brings you back to the pit?"This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "I was called to the Court for business. Thought I might as well have some fun while I was here."


    "Is it fun getting punched by a woman?" I asked. Rolfe laughed heartily in reply.


    "Only one as formidable as you. Speaking of formidable women, I see you brought your friend, the one who excels with the sword," he said, scanning the crowd until he found Adri, who had wormed her way to a spot at the railing. "I''d very much like to spar with her again. I found her...enchanting."


    "Then you must really enjoy being beaten."


    Rolfe laughed again, his eyes sparkling in the lantern light. "Maybe I do."


    Caspar introduced Rolfe to the crowd, and it was time to begin our round. As with Andreas, we circled and traded easy blows, blocking each other''s attempts to feel out strengths and weaknesses, and maybe get in a lucky strong hit. Rolfe almost danced across the pit, covering much more surface area than Andreas had. I had wanted to minimize my travel to conserve my energy for the next fight with Balthazar, which Rolfe clearly used to his advantage.


    After a few more light punches and kicks, I finally surprised him with a strong kick across the ribs, which he then traded for a blow to my sternum. The wind was sucked from my lungs and the crowd let out a collective ''ooh,'' but I was able to recover quickly enough to stay upright. We circled again, Rolfe lunging for a takedown which I spun away from, catching him with an elbow to the back just beneath his scapula. He let out a grunt and faced off with me again, but I was already moving to take out his legs. We fell together on the mat, and I managed to wrap a leg around his throat and position my elbow for a blow to his face.


    "Ugh not the nose, that''s just ghastly," he said in a strangled voice. "I yield." Rolfe tapped the mat and I rose, offering him a hand. Like Andreas, he took it, then pulled me close to speak into my ear over the roar of Caspar and the jostling crowd. "I don''t want to end up like Balthazar before I''ve even had a chance to see your friend without her mask."


    "Who says she''s going to give you that chance?" I replied.


    "We''ll see," he said, then parted with a wink and a bow. Despite the solid blow he delivered to my chest, the fight with Rolfe seemed a bit short, even by his standards. I didn''t have time to dwell on it, however. Balthazar had already entered the pit.


    Balthazar was nearly as tall as Rolfe, but twice as broad, barrel-chested and thickly muscled. He had a shaved head and jagged scars over much of his body, one that crossed from the top of his forehead to just below his left cheekbone which looked particularly nasty. Whatever it had been from, which was most likely a bar fight as with the majority of his other scars, he''d been lucky not to lose his eye. His nose had healed crooked from where I''d broken it several months ago. I was positive it hadn''t been his first break, and that it wouldn''t be his last. Even so, the rumour had reached me that he was very put-out that The Flower had given him some new facial angles, and he''d been looking forward to a chance to return the favour. As if reading my mind, Balthazar gave me a sneer and jerked his chin in disdainful acknowledgement of my presence as he lumbered across the pit toward me.


    Gods, I couldn''t wait to punch his ugly head.


    "I''m gonna smash that mask off your face and beat you ''til you look just as pretty as me," he said with a grin. An incisor had gone missing since last I''d seen him.


    "Charming," I replied steadily. My heart thudded with a surge of adrenaline. Balthazar might have been dumb as a stone, but he was still a sizeable and aggressive opponent, and one that was motivated by revenge. I bounced on the balls of my feet and waited for the word from Caspar.


    The moment the fight was called to start, Balthazar was barreling toward me. There was no circling or strategizing as with my earlier two opponents, only a violent, vicious attack. I managed to dart away from Balthazar''s pursuit and caught a glimpse from his mind of his intent to punch my right temple. I was able to twist under his arm and deliver my own punch to his rib cage. Unfortunately, it didn''t seem to register with Balthazar and he swung again, connecting with my hip as I was trying to move out of range. The strike hurt but the pain was manageable, and it wasn''t until he kicked out a few attempts later and caught my sternum in the same spot as Rolfe that I thought I might be in real trouble.


    Severely winded and doubled over in pain, I knew I should have blocked with my left arm as it was positioned closer to Balthazar. Instead, I had tried to block with my right arm and failed. Years of avoiding the ever-present pain of my poorly set break had meant I was now in danger of having my face rearranged. Fortunately, Balthazar was busy celebrating his hit by turning his back to me to rile up the audience, and I was able to get in two good lungfuls of air before regrouping and launching my foot at his kidneys.


    The strike surprised him, and as he bent and twisted at an odd angle to come back at me through his pain, I spun through the air and kicked again. That solid strike got him right in the nose, squishing it to his face. I heard the sickening crunch and blood sprayed from his nostrils as he fell unconscious on the mat. The crowd erupted, banging and cheering, several big men entering the pit to drag Balthazar off to the healers. I bent over to catch my breath and Adri appeared at my side.


    "Are you alright?" Adri asked, her hand on my back as I took in a few painful breaths.


    "Yeah, he really got me. I think it''s maybe cracked but I''ll be fine," I said, gritting my teeth and pressing my palm to my throbbing chest.


    "You sure?" She asked, but I only nodded in response.


    "And the Flower of Fidelium wins again!" Caspar said to the uproarious crowd. "And now, we have a special surprise for you. There is a new contender to challenge your champion tonight." Both Adri and I snapped our heads in Caspar''s direction.


    "What?" Adri said in my ear over the banging glasses and boot-stomped planks. I groaned, pulling myself straighter.


    "Tonight, I give you a fighter from afar. Tonight, I give you...Kiran of the Elysian Isles!" The crowd was thunderous as Adri and I scanned the audience for this new opponent.


    "Good gods..." I heard Adri say as she gripped my shoulders and turned me to the right. The man that Rolfe had been sitting with, the one with the fur-lined grey cloak, approached the pit. Rolfe grinned at me as Kiran removed his cloak and handed it to him.  He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen; a hint taller than Rolfe, he had short dark hair and dark stubble across his tan, olive skin. His nose and jaw and cheekbones were strong but not severe, his lips full but still masculine. He smiled as an audience member said something in his ear, and two dimples appeared in his cheeks. Most striking of all were his eyes, a blue so light they were nearly white, a vivid contrast to his sun-kissed skin. "Try to avoid ruining the face, will you?" Adri said in my ear before patting my shoulder and leaving the pit. Kiran tipped his head to her as she passed him, then turned the full force of his smile on me. I was glad for the mask as I could feel the flush of blood creeping up my neck and into my cheeks.


    "The Flower of Fidelium," Kiran said with a bow. "I''ve heard of your prowess in the ring."


    "Interesting, as I''ve heard nothing of yours. Is that why you''ve come so far? To fight me?" Kiran laughed, a sonorous, musical sound.


    "Perhaps, Flower. Perhaps I''ve come not just to fight, but to win."


    "Well. That''s presumptuous," I said humorously. He laughed again, rolling the sleeves of his white tunic over his tanned and muscled forearms. I turned my back to him and walked to the other side of the pit, trying to push his beautiful face from my mind and prepare for the unknown.


    "No weapons," Caspar bellowed. "Last one standing wins. Let the fight...begin!" Kiran and I circled in the pit, and I got the immediate impression he was going to take his time to make a move. I drew it out, hoping he would become frustrated, but he showed no signs of impatience. The crowd, on the other hand, they wanted some action, and the onlookers grew steadily louder the longer we took.


    "Are you going to attack me, Flower, or are we going to dance all night?" The dimples came out in full as he shot me a self-satisfied grin.


    "If this is your idea of dancing, you must be very lonely at a ball."


    Kiran laughed again. "Is that why you wear a mask? You''re hoping for an invitation to a masquerade ball? Tell me, Flower, why do you wear a mask?"


    I rolled my eyes behind the black mesh screen. "Why does anyone wear a mask?" I scoffed. "To conceal their identity."


    Kiran''s eyes sparked like white-blue flames. "Well, what a shame for you," he said, coming close enough that only I could hear. "Because I already know what you are, Diviner." He flashed me a grin as my heart stopped in its cracked cage, and then he launched. One blink and I was flat on my back on the bloodied, stinking mats. My training took over and I twisted out from under him and scurried to the edge of the pit, but he was impossibly fast, and in a blur of motion he kicked my legs out from under me. As soon as I landed heavily on my side he had me turned over onto my back, his forearm against my throat as he leaned in close, his amused gaze bouncing between the eyes of my mask. "There you are," he said, grinning as my anger flared, my vision bathed in light.


    "And there you are," I replied as I smacked my knee into his groin. Kiran rolled off of me in pain and I took the opportunity to land a kick to his left torso. "Sorry, Adri," I whispered as I started to spin into a wheel kick with the intent of smashing into the side of his face, but my foot never connected. Instead, Kiran grabbed my lower leg and used my own momentum to throw me across the pit where I landed on my stomach. In the time it took me to blink, his weight and intense heat were on my back, his right arm around my neck in a chokehold while his left hand twisted my left arm behind my back.


    "Yield," he said close to my ear. I thrashed violently but couldn''t throw him off. Kiran twisted my arm, the old break sending sharp pains from my wrist to my elbow. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.


    "No!" I spat across the mat. Kiran flexed his bicep, the grip on my windpiper tightening. I gasped for breath.


    "Yield, and walk away with your identity protected. Or don''t, and you will be unconscious in a matter of seconds, and Balthazar will be the first to rip off this mask. I''m sure he must be awake by now. The choice is yours." His grip on both my throat and my wrist tightened again, and this time I let out a strangled cry of frustration. I kicked my feet around aimlessly, but I knew he was right - there was no other option but to yield.


    I tapped the mat with my right hand and the response from the crowd was deafening. Since I''d started coming to the Theatre three years ago, I had never lost a match, and this upset had the crowd in a frenzy. Kiran eased his grip on my throat but still pressed the hot weight his body to mine, trapping me on the mat. "I want to hear you say it," he said, his voice low.


    "Say what," I snapped venomously.


    "Say you yield." I laughed, incredulous at the arrogance of his demand.


    "Get the hell off me."


    "Say it," he said softly.


    "Get off!" I kicked out once more, not getting anywhere with the effort. The crowd didn''t even notice my predicament, they were too busy claiming bets and paying coins and skirmishing amongst themselves as I''d already declared defeat with a tap of the mat. "Oh my gods, you''re some kind of pervert, aren''t you?!" Kiran laughed, the sound of it rumbling through my chest.


    "While I cannot claim to not enjoy our flirting-"


    "We are not flirting-"


    "-I am not a pervert." He pressed his face close to my hood, his lips next to my left ear, his scent of cedar and sage sweeping around me. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "You could still win this match, if you really wanted to...if your motivation was strong enough. I will not take this win from you unless you give it to me. Just tell me you yield to me and I will let you go, Diviner." Kiran''s grip remained the same, not tightening but not relenting either. His chest rose and fell heavily from the lingering exertion of our fight, his heart thudding against my back.


    "I already tapped the mat," I snapped.


    "It''s not the same," he snapped back.


    "Fine! I yield. Now get the hell off." He immediately released me but I still pushed him anyway, exasperated and embarrassed. He offered me a hand to help me up and I smacked it away, which only served to earn me a laugh from the new champion of the pit. Adri rushed over and helped me up, guiding me out of the ring as Caspar presented his winner to the crowd. I glanced back at Kiran, expecting a gloating grin to be plastered all over his beautiful face, but instead I found him staring at me with a concerned, almost reverent expression. In that moment, I felt in the depths of my being that he was right...I could have won, if I was willing to pay the price.

 Chapter 3

    Adri hurried over to Frederik, Caspar''s second-in-charge, to collect my winnings from the first three fights. I waited on a bench on the far wall across from the pit, my forearms resting heavily on my knees, head down, not wanting to watch the animated crowd or the celebration of those betting against me. It could have been five minutes or it could have been an hour later, but eventually Adri reappeared to drop my cloak over my shoulders, pulling the hood up and guiding me to my feet. I felt like I was walking in a dream, replaying the fight with Kiran over and over in my mind, still not understanding how he could know who I was, or how he could best me so quickly. Adri noticed me lagging behind and took my hand to start pulling me along behind her to the back exit of the Theatre.


    "Have dinner with me," Rolfe said, suddenly materializing from the crowd to grab Adri''s arm as we snaked through the mass of smelly, sweaty bodies. Her masked face peered up at him and she ripped her arm away from his grasp.


    "I''d rather stab you in the chest."


    Rolfe''s head tilted back as he laughed. "Well then," he said, ducking his chin. "How about I make you a deal. We cross swords. If you win, you can stab me in the chest if you wish...though I hope you choose to spare my heart. If I win, we have dinner." Adri was silent, her head tilting, considering the offer. "I''ll be a perfect gentleman, I swear. And if you don''t have a truly wonderful time, you can stab me anyway, but only with a fork." This time Adri laughed.


    "I''ll think on it," she finally said, and Rolfe smiled widely, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the flickering light of the lanterns and torches. Gods, he was so handsome when he wasn''t thinking about how good looking he was.


    "I''ll be at the castle for the next few weeks. Come and find me...please..." he said after her as she started walking determinedly toward the door.


    "Maybe," she tossed over her shoulder. Rolfe smiled, then turned to me and nodded as I passed him. I honed in on the door, not wanting to catch a glimpse of Kiran, desperate for fresh air and a chance to clear my confused mind.


    "Are you all right?" Adri asked as soon as we were clear of the building and any passersby. The night air crept into me through uncovered spaces and chilled the lingering sweat on my skin.


    "I don''t know. He... he knew what I was."


    Adri grabbed my upper arm, pulling me into a narrow lane between two rows of stone houses. "What?! What do you mean he knows what you are?"


    A chill crept up my spine at the shock and concern in Adri''s voice. "He called me ''Diviner''. He didn''t use my name but he definitely knew what I was and that I didn''t belong there."


    "Gods..." she whispered nervously. "Did he say anything else?"


    "Not really," I said, leaving out the part he said about my ability to win the match. Something about his statement, delivered so assuredly, rested like a ball of unease in the pit of my stomach. I wanted time to consider that privately, even if Adri was my closest friend and confidante.


    "We should get going," Adri said, her masked face gazing up at the night sky, then down the lane toward the Theatre. "I think we''ve had enough surprises for one night."


    "Agreed," I said, and we started off down the narrow alley, walking only as quickly as my battered body would allow. We removed our masks once back at the oak where we stashed our bags, trudging along in silence to our secret culvert entrance on the far west wall of the castle. It was a much longer way home than climbing the gate tower, but my injured chest offered no alternative. Once within the castle walls, we slipped through the back entrance of the blacksmith''s shop where we could change and stash our bags in the unused loft.


    We walked in silence and shadow to the Sanctum, the wing of the castle that housed our rooms, easily avoiding the guards in their languid patrol through the castle grounds. Adri came with me to my room to help me undress and tend the damage from the fights, making me a tea of herbs for pain relief. She smoothed arnica cream she''d stolen from the healers onto my hip and the deep purple bruise blossoming in the center of my chest. "I always knew your bleeding heart would be your downfall," she said with a wink and a smile as she tapped a light finger on my throbbing breastbone. I winced and pulled up the shoulders of my nightgown, settling into my bed. "Get some rest. I''ll see you in the morning." With a squeeze of her hand on mine she rose and left the room, gently shutting the door behind her. As the tea took effect and dragged me into a bone weary slumber, Kiran''s whisper from the pit was like a ghost following me into the night.


    Just tell me you yield to me and I will let you go.


    The next morning I awoke to the sound of birdsong, the light of the mid-morning sun bright beyond my closed eyelids. Everything hurt, not helped by a heavy pressure on my chest. I cracked an eye open reluctantly, the lidless amber eyes of a serpentine face boring into mine.


    "Gods! I hate it when you do that," I said, wincing as my jerky muscles set off an eruption of pain through my battered limbs. An image appeared in my mind of my bedroom in the dark, infused with a sulferous smell, the scent of fear. "I''m sorry, Skye, I didn''t mean to scare you. I went to the Theatre with Adri. I''m alright, just sore." As my mind started to gather itself from its drug-induced slumber, I realized that Skye hadn''t been worried for me in a long while, not since the first few times I''d gone to the Theatre and returned victorious. I projected a feeling of confusion back to her, asking what was wrong.


    I received a rapid succession of images and feelings in response: the earth moving, vibration growing stronger, radiating through scales. Horses'' hooves, in groups of four, the rumble of their shoes on cobblestones. Clanking, metal against metal. Men speaking authoritatively, commands being given and obeyed. The trellises, the feeling of Skye''s belly on the ivy as she climbed to my room. Looking down from the balcony, the legion in formation, their standards flapping. An unfamiliar flag, a golden ship embroidered on shimmering purple silk. The Queen and her consort greeting the commander.


    Soldiers, Skye whisper-shouted into thoughts.


    "Oh my gods!" I yelped, rolling out of the bed. Skye tumbled onto the deerskin rug beside my bed with an irritated hiss.


    Ass, she said, rolling herself upright. Ass was one of Skye''s favourite words, especially when it came to me.


    "I''m sorry!" I chirped as I limped toward the bath chamber.


    Ass, she said again, this time sending me an image of my back as I scampered away, my nightdress hanging open over my bare backside.


    "Not like you haven''t seen it before!" I called to her as I slammed the door closed behind me. After washing up, I unravelled my braid from the previous night, combing my fingers through the long wavy strands before securing pieces from the front away from my face with delicate rose pins. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and tried to conjure the likenesses I had in common with my mother. Her full lips. Her delicate ears. Her large, expressive eyes, her feathery black lashes. My features were an echo of hers - not as perfect as the original, but an impression of the beautiful source. I saw my father too, what I could remember of him. His straight nose and dark hair and most of all, his violet irises. I was the surface of their memory, reflecting them back to the world.


    I took a deep breath, swept the loose strands from my face, and exited the bath chamber to find something appropriate to wear. It was Council Day, so I pulled a black dress from my wardrobe and started easing it over my shoulders as a knock sounded at my door. Skye''s tongue flicked and she sent me the impression of gardenias and lavender.


    "Come in," I said, knowing from Skye''s communication that it was Adri. The door opened and she swept in, her beautiful cornsilk hair spinning in a diaphanous halo around her shoulders as she circled and closed the door.


    "Good morning, Skye!" She said brightly as she spied the viper''s body coiled on the chair by the fireplace. Skye sent me one of her favourite images of Adri, of an evening when they fell asleep aside each other on a chaise in the library. The scent of woodsmoke filled the back of my throat, warm and comforting. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "She says it''s nice to see you," I replied on Skye''s behalf. The snake''s tongue flicked, her crystalline eyes impossibly bright.


    "How are you feeling this morning?" Adri asked, turning her attention to me with a scrutinizing eye.


    "Sore, I won''t lie," I said, placing my splayed palm above my heart. "Training is going to be hell next week."


    Adri shot me a concerned, lopsided smile. "It was bound to happen sooner or later." I was a little pained to know that she considered my loss in the pit an inevitability.


    "Yeah, I suppose." I finished lacing up my dress and walked over to Skye, extending my hand for her to coil up my arm. The weight of her muscular blue body settled across my shoulders, her arrowhead face skimming over my cheek. We left my room and headed for the royal wing of the castle.


    "It feels like buzzing today, like insects but inside," Adri said as we walked through the Great Hall, passing several groups of people chattering in hushed but excited tones. Adri''s control over the air element meant she could feel the vibration of their voices rippling through the space.


    "Skye saw something last night, shortly after we left," I whispered. "A group of soldiers arrived. It looked to be about forty or so. I didn''t recognize their banner."


    Adri looked over and winked. "Should be an interesting morning at Council then, for a change." I smiled at her as we entered the royal wing, passing down the long stone corridor adored with the armour of famous knights from the kingdom''s history. At the end of the corridor stood the armour of two war horses, facing each other, frozen in imposing rears. Valdamora and Windemere had been the kingdom''s most illustrious cavalry horses, and now their polished silver armaments were forever locked in poses of war. I wondered, as I often did when passing their glittering mail and helmets, if a Diviner had urged them into battle, or if they did so of their own accord.


    We passed the war horse armour and entered the foyer of the royal wing, with its vaulted ceilings, elaborate tapestries, and statues of kings and queens past. From there, we passed the row of six guards and entered the council chambers, where the other Diviners were already congregated, quietly chatting in their black and gold finery like a murder of adorned crows.


    There were nine of us in total, myself and Adri included. We''d had ten up until recently, but lost Deacon, Diviner of Fire, at the Battle of the Blackmoors. Neither Adri nor I had been to that battle, and from the tales from those that returned, we were glad for it. Shuddering slightly as I recalled the worst of the stories, Adri and I walked over to Freya, Diviner of Water. She smiled brightly when she saw us. She and Adri trained with each other since childhood and worked seamlessly together in battle, as though they were a single person. We said our greetings and shifted subtly away from the main group.


    "Did you both see the soldiers arriving last night?" Freya asked quietly, her gaze bouncing between us.


    "No, but Skye did," I offered as Skye twined around my neck, hiding the top edge of the bruise on my chest. Skye sent me one of the images she''d shown me earlier, the foreign banner flapping in the breeze. "I didn''t recognize their pennant, do you know where they''re from?"


    "Word amongst the guards is they''re from the outer allied territories, the Scipian shore."


    "That''s a long way to come," Adri said, pensive. "That''s got to be a couple of weeks by horseback. Why now?"


    "That I don''t know, but I would guess the reasons aren''t good." Worry crinkled Freya''s brow. "Maybe it''s got something to do with what happened at the Blackmoors..."


    "Maybe," Adri mused, a similar concern etching into her normally serene features. Guards opened the set of doors on the opposite side of the room which led to the private royal chambers and reception rooms, the two captains of the royal guard entering first. Queen Myrian followed, flanked by her husband, Commander Vigos. There were then six royal guards, and beyond that the squadron of foreign soldiers, arranged in pairs. They wore polished gold armour, and deep purple tunics and breeches. Purple and white crests adorned the top of their helmets and swords were sheathed at their sides, the elaborate hilts clanking against their armour. The Queen and commander stood in front of their thrones on the dais, the royal guard and the foreign squadron fanning out in formation on either side. Our group of Diviners lined up, standing along wall at the back of the room facing the dais, our usual place in the council. Legion commanders then led in the other council members and advisors, entering from the foyer doors and all standing ready to take their seats along the massive carved table that faced the dais. The attendees recited the kingdom''s motto, For the kinship of humanity stands the Kingdom of Fidelium, then they bowed to the crown and sat. Only we and the guards remained standing, though we Diviners were less rigid and formal than our soldier counterparts. Skye''s face came alongside my left eye, her gaze sweeping across the newcomers and her tongue flicking endlessly.


    "You may have noticed we have some guests this morning," Queen Myrian began, ever direct, ever formidable. Her voiced almost challenged any council advisor to raise a concern, and her subtly amused smile hinted that she knew such a challenge would never arise. "This squadron has joined us from the Scipian Territories. I have asked similar squadrons to attend the other castle strongholds of the kingdom. These are elite warriors that have come to help guard Castle Eridanus and provide specialized, advanced training for some of our key soldiers." The Queen''s eyes swept across the council, and then onto our group of Diviners. I felt the weight of her piercing brown eyes linger on me for the briefest moment. She stood. "What happened at the Blackmoors was a tragedy, but it was also a blessing. We underestimated our opponent. We lost good soldiers and a valuable weapon. We sacrificed more than we should have to win. But we now know the strength of our enemy, and we will not come so close to failing again." Fists banged on tables in approval.


    "Commanders, you will welcome the input and guidance of these soldiers," Vigos said after the banging quieted. He remained seated as the Queen slowly descended the dais with the two captains in tow. "These allies have unique skills, skills that we will need to learn if we hope to keep our kingdom safe. Training will begin tomorrow." The commanders nodded in assent. Queen Myrian crossed the room and stopped when she reached our group of Diviners.


    "What happened in the Blackmoors will not happen again," she said, looking at each of us.It was as much a promise as it was a threat. Her eyes then softened after a loaded pause, and she walked the length of our line. "You are our greatest strength, our greatest gift. But without mastery of yourselves, you can destroy many lives. Including your own." Queen Myrian stopped in front of me.


    "Your grace," I said, with a bow of my head. She smiled, her hand coming to the right side of my face as she swept a stray lock of hair from my cheek.


    "Our enemies are coming, and they are more bold than ever before. It is our responsibility to ensure you are ready for anything you might encounter on the battlefield. And it is your responsibility to give everything for your kingdom, no matter what happens. No matter the cost." She smiled at me with benevolence. Skye''s tongue flicked.


    "Yes, your grace."


    "We will do everything possible to keep you safe," she said, turning from me, the gilded edge of her black cloak skimming over my feet. "We are increasing your protection. There will be additional guards posted in the Sanctum. You will each be assigned three guards from the Scipian squadron, one to lead and two to support. They will oversee specialized training for each of you, and a guard must accompany you at all times when you move throughout the castle. I know I do not need to remind you, but travel outside the castle is strictly forbidden." Adri shifted slightly next to me and I fought a grin. There was a rule we''d never abided by. As if reading my thoughts, the Queen turned back toward me. "Diviner," she said, my stomach dropping to my feet.


    "Yes, your grace?"


    "Please proceed to the Oraculum. The mage needs you to tithe. We need to see what we can uncover of the enemy''s plan." My stomach returned from the floor only to twist into knots. While I was relieved that my extracurricular activities at the Theatre had not been uncovered, I both loathed and feared the Oraculum. I could feel Skye tighten slightly around my neck, her face caressing my jaw as it passed.


    "Of course, your grace."


    "Captain Donseer?" the Queen called over her shoulder, not taking her eyes from me. A man stepped forward from the Scipian ranks.


    "Yes, my Queen?"


    "Who do you nominate as lead guard for Quinn the Diviner?" Skye sent me the briefest flash of something she could smell, had already smelled once before. Something that had clung to my hair and skin as I slept. It was cedarwood and sage. I knew then what Captain Donseer would say before he even opened his mouth. I wanted to laugh as much as I wanted to rage.


    "Kiran, of the Elysian Isles," he said. I felt Adri tense beside me and I resisted the urge to grab her hand.


    "Kiran," the Queen said, turning to face him as he separated from this comrades and removed his helmet, cradling it in the crook of his elbow. His other hand rested on the ornate hilt of his sword. Impossibly, he was even more beautiful than the night before, his skin and dark hair glowing in the light reflecting on his armour.


    "Yes, my Queen," he answered in a low, warm voice.


    "In the Kingdom of Fidelium, our bonds are not taken lightly. A promise made is a promise kept. To guard the life of another is a duty kept forever." Queen Myrian took a purposeful step toward Kiran. "If one perishes, so does the other. Do you accept this position as guardian of the Diviner?" His snow blue gaze locked on mine. The air in the room seemed to still, as though no one was breathing, not even me. I felt my arms go cold while my chest went hot.


    "I do, your grace," he said, not taking his eyes from mine. "I will protect Quinn with my sword and with my life."


    "Excellent. You will accompany her to the Oraculum."


    "Yes, your grace." We stared at each other, the spark in his glacial eyes the only hint of his amusement. My life was now under the protection of my adversary from only a night before. Fate, it seemed, had plans for me.


    Plans I didn''t like.

 Chapter 4

    "You must be most pleased with yourself," I snapped as I marched through the foyer of the royal wing. Kiran''s long strides caught up to me quickly with a clank of armour and sword.


    "I am a little, actually. Yes." I chanced a glance at him and his eyes sparkled down at me in amusement, deep dimples appearing in his cheeks. I huffed and focused forward before an unwelcome blush could claim my cheeks.


    "You knew before the Theatre, didn''t you. You knew exactly where to find me."


    "Of course," he said. I could almost hear his grin spreading wider.


    "So you''re a pervert and a stalker. That''s just wonderful."


    He laughed, the sound bouncing through the vaulted ceiling of the foyer. "I''m neither a pervert nor a stalker. But I did need to get to know my ward." I stopped dead just before the passage to the Great Hall, glowering up at Kiran.


    "Your ward? I''m not a child. Does it look to you like I need your protection?"


    "Maybe not from others," he said, tilting his head as he regarded me with sparkling glacial eyes, "but definitely from yourself."


    I inhaled and exhaled deeply, despite the throbbing pain in my breastbone, glaring up at him. "You... are... unbelievable." With that, I turned and stalked off down the passageway, Kiran quickly matching pace. "How did you know who I was, at the Theatre?" I demanded.


    "After the Blackmoors, when the Queen asked Scipia for aid, she requested protection for the Diviners as one of her priorities. We were told that one Diviner in particular had a rare gift not seen among others of her kind. A powerful Diviner that could summon beasts to her aid. One whose abilities were not fully realized. She requested the best of our guardians to protect her. Captain Donseer asked me to take that role." A small group of courtiers started toward us from the opposite end of the hallway and Kiran suddenly seemed much too large for the narrow space. We stepped aside, allowing them to pass, Kiran positioning himself in front of me while he gave them a curt nod. He waited until they were several paces beyond us before walking again.


    "I started asking a few friends in the area if they knew of the Diviners here," he continued. "Rolfe had heard of your abilities and said he thought you snuck out regularly to fight in the pit. He caught a glimpse of a very unusual spectator hiding in the rafters of the Theatre a few years ago, intently watching a match between a masked woman and a bald, scarred, smelly brute named Balthazar." Kiran smiled down at me, dimples faint in his cheeks. "When I saw you fight, I knew. Your training, your grace, your ability to take the blows you did and still fight - it had to be you. I agreed to Donseer''s request as soon as I got back to the castle last night."


    "Why though?" I asked, slowing to a stop as we entered the Great Hall. "You know what the oath demands. I will be your... ward... for the rest of your life. If you fail to protect me and I die, the kingdom...they will kill you." A wedge of concern penetrated my earlier irritation as I looked up at Kiran. I didn''t wish that risk for anyone, especially not on my behalf. All amusement vanished from Kiran''s eyes, an unreadable expression hardening his features.


    "I was asked, I was not ordered to take this responsibility. I understand what you''re capable of and I knew the repercussions of the decision I was making. This chance to protect you, it... it is my highest honour."


    All of my concern from moments ago evaporated. I swallowed thickly. "I see. What an honour to guard the kingdom''s most powerful weapon," I said through a sardonic grin. Kiran''s eyes flashed in response like twin white flames.


    "I took an oath to protect you, Quinn," he said, taking a step toward me, then another. "Not a weapon. Not a Diviner. You."


    "We''ll see about that," I said with a smirk, holding his eye contact for a moment longer before turning on my heel and striding toward the center of the Great Hall. We walked on in silence, the only sound between us our footfalls on the polished stone floor and the clank, clank, clank of Kiran''s sword and armour.


    As we passed through the heavy oak doors and into the courtyard, the mid-morning sun was inviting, bright and warm, and I stopped momentarily as I tilted my face to the sky and tried to absorb everything good from my place in the world. I closed my eyes to memorize it all. The sound of sparrows, the trickle of the fountain, the feeling of Skye''s warm scales on my skin. The sounds of people passing by as they chatted about pleasant things like bread or the wheat harvest or their children. The heavy clop-clop of a draft horse''s hooves, it''s rhythmic gate faithful and steady, just as Sage''s had been. One more step away from that moment would be another toward the Oraculum, and I would need something good to hold onto.


    "Are you all right?" Kiran asked quietly. I opened my eyes and met his but couldn''t reply. Breaking his gaze, I looked across the courtyard in the direction of the Oraculum. Skye shifted around my neck and down my left arm, the anticipation building in her, too. I started to shut out her thoughts as she was already sending an onslaught of words and images and feelings to me. Pleas and desperation. I built up a wall in my mind, thicker than the widest castle rampart, and I would hold it closed as long as I could to keep her out. "Quinn?..." A gentle hand landed on my sleeve, startling me. I looked up at Kiran, his head angled downward to capture my gaze, his brow creased. I caught the moment his eyes flicked to the top section of my chest that was now left uncovered in Skye''s wanderings. His frown deepened.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "What? Don''t like what you see?" I asked, tugging up the top of my dress to better hide the edge of the dark bruise. A mirthless smile tugged at Kiran''s lips, no dimples in sight.


    "Not this time."


    I looked away again to the dark archway on the opposite end of the courtyard, the passage to the Oraculum. "Come on, pervert," I said with a grin that faded as quickly as it appeared. I hesitated before finally taking a step. "Let''s get this over with."


    We passed through the courtyard and under the archway, the keystone carved with an ''O'', inlaid with obsidian. The dark passageway led through the stone wall and to a set of stairs that spiraled downward beneath the courtyard. The stairway opened to a huge natural cavern nearly the size of the castle itself, lit by torches spaced every ten feet. The walls glistened with moisture and crystals. The air seemed to never move here, and the thick smell of smoke and incense and sweaty rock made my stomach churn. We slowed as we approached a low, round, windowless building constructed within the space. The walls and roof were made of black stone, the door of mahogany carved with ancient spells. The air around it seemed to shimmer. To the left of the door was an empty hook. To the right of the door hung a cage with metal bars encased in layers of thick leather. The door to the cage was open. I looked over at Kiran as his eyes scanned over the space around him, taking everything in. He felt me watching and met my gaze with a hard but curious expression.


    "Tell me, Elysian. Do you have an Oracle in Scipia?"


    Kiran''s eyes darkened a little. "No.e have a mage, who came here with us, but not an Oracle."


    "Perhaps you''re fortunate then," I said. I smiled briefly as I started untying the laces on my left shoulder that attached my sleeve to my dress. "Did you know that we''ve been through three mages since I''ve been here?" I asked. Kiran shook his head. The ties loosened and I slipped my left sleeve off. I heard the subtle intake of Kiran''s breath as I hung the first sleeve on the hook beside the door. The filigreed tattoo of black and embedded gold wound from my wrist to mid-forearm, the metal reflecting the torchlight. Kiran took a step toward me, staring down at my arm. His hand raised slightly and his fingers tensed. I could tell he wanted to touch my skin but he restrained himself.


    "The viper killed the first mage the very first time I came to tithe. I brought the snake in with me. No one knew any better. When the tithing started, when the pain started, Skye came to my aid. She bit the mage on the face first, then on the arm, on the neck... everywhere she could, until my pain subsided. I watched the mage writhe in Skye''s grasp until her face became waxen and poisoned froth bubbled from her blue lips. I watched until her last breath," I said. I smiled faintly, working the laces on my right arm. "The Queen knew she could not kill Skye in retaliation, since I would not have been able to control my rage at her loss. I was still just a child after all."I slipped the other sleeve off of my arm and hung it next to the first. The matching tattoos glittered on that arm too, beautiful reminders of painful memories. "That''s when the Queen had the cage installed."


    Kiran walked over to the enclosure, his fingers running over the leather-coated bars. He felt the dimples and tears in the hide from Skye''s attempts to rip the cage apart. He looked back to me, a muscle feathering along his jaw. I started unwrapping Skye from my body as Kiran stepped back a safe distance toward the door.Skye was already writhing and agitated, but she complied nonetheless. "The next time I came to tithe, I put the viper in the cage. It prevented her from coming into the Oraculum, of course. But when it was done and I left with my first marks on my arms, Skye caught the scent of the mage on my skin. That night, she hunted the mage and killed her while she slept."


    I placed Skye in the cage and she hissed at me defiantly as I closed the door. Tears threatened to burn my eyes as they always did when I placed her in the cage. My heart pained for her helplessness, her desperation. I shored up the wall in my mind, keeping her thoughts safe in the distance.


    "With the next mage, they knew to mask her scent and hide her appearance. So, after a few tithings, Skye tried something new. She bit me as I placed her in the enclosure," I said, walking a few steps toward Kiran. I lifted my right hand so he could see the twin scars on the pulp of my palm where her fangs had sunk deep into my flesh. "She wasn''t trying to kill me, of course. That''s how I found out I was immune to her venom. Maybe she already knew. But it rendered my blood unusable that day. My scream also coaxed the mage out of the Oraculum. Skye heard the mage''s voice as she spoke to me. It took her a while longer, but eventually she found that mage too." I turned away from Kiran and walked toward the cage. Skye''s body was coiling around itself in infinite motion, her head raised and swaying, her tongue flicking. I gazed into Skye''s amber eyes, feeling so much love and gratitude and sorrow that emotion threatened to consume me.


    "There is nothing she wouldn''t do to protect me," I said as I faced the door and grasped the cool iron bar of the handle. "She would break her teeth on the bars. She would attack everyone that stood between us. She would kill the gods themselves to keep her oath to me." I pulled the heavy door open, the rush of incense and alchemy spilling over me. I turned back enough to look at Kiran, his dark brows furrowed, one large hand clasped tightly on the hilt of his sword, the other gripping his golden helmet with white knuckles. I could see the light building in my vision until my violet eyes shone like a cat''s. "And if what you said is true, Kiran, that your promise is not to protect the Queen''s weapon, nor the kingdom''s Diviner, but to protect me, then you are about to fail within an hour of making your vow."


    The flickering of the torches seemed to slow. Time seemed to almost halt. I could see Kiran''s heavy breath in the rise and fall of the reflections in his armour, my mirrored irises shining back at me, amethyst and otherworldly. His lips parted slightly, his beautiful face looking wounded. Maybe despairing. The ivory blue of his eyes churned with fragments of colour, like an opal.


    I gave him a heartbeat more than Skye would ever need, and then I closed the door behind me.

 Chapter 5

    The door sealed shut behind me. The shimmer of spells locked into place. The interior of the Oraculum glowed faintly from behind the billowing curtains that covered the walls, a breeze shifting through the room from a source unseen. I couldn''t see the floor through the fog-like incense that swirled around my feet to the height of my knees. The mage stood to my left with her back to me as she mixed her serum and gold on a table filled with shallow bowls and glass flasks. In front of me was the obsidian altar, its glossy black facade contrasting its jagged, unpolished edges. The iron shackles lay open on the surface, already waiting for me. The Oracle was suspended in the air in the very heart of the open space beyond the altar, long blond hair swirling around her, pearlescent skin silvery white and shimmering, the gauzy panels of her ethereal dress shifting in the current that always snaked around her. Eyes closed, unresponsive, she was the same as always. Beautiful. Powerful. Unpredictable. Terrifying.


    "Greetings, Diviner," the mage said in a distorted voice, not turning from her work.


    "Greetings," I said blandly, having learned long ago that being rude to a mage garnered no benefits in the Oraculum.


    "Lay down." I took a deep breath, and another. I closed my eyes. I imagined block after block of stone floating into place and building the wall higher and wider to keep Skye out of my mind. When I opened my eyes, the mage was directly in front of me. It was always unnerving how she could move so fast and without sound, but I would not let that disarming feeling show. I stared at her, and she stared back at me from behind the chain veil that fully obscured her face. The subtle movement of it with her breath was the only indication she was any more than a ghost. "Lay down, Diviner." I let out the air from my lungs and stepped around her, placing my hands on the cool volcanic glass and pulling myself onto the surface of the altar. I put my own shackles on, starting with my feet and then with my wrists, sliding the metal pins in place to keep them closed. One more deep breath and I lied down on the unforgiving surface of the obsidian slab.


    "Let your sacrifice open a channel to the Oracle," the mage recited, taking my left hand and turning it so my palm faced upward, the flesh of my forearm exposed. She dipped a brush into black ink and painted a swirling line on the skin that had not yet been marked. "Let the Oracle show you what has happened, what is now, and what shall come to pass." The mage walked around the end of the altar and did the same with my right arm. She then walked back to the table, my heart kicking against my chest and the taste of bile creeping up my throat.


    I swallowed and tried to slow my breathing. The mage picked up the amphora and a curved obsidian blade, a handle of gold. She turned to me. "Let your blood strengthen the Kingdom. Let your pain free Fidelium." I couldn''t stop my breathing from quickening, and as the blade bit into my left arm I closed my eyes. I felt a twin pain in my right arm and opened my eyes again as the mage marked that one with the knife too. The thick, wet blood flowed in rivulets down my arms. This, I knew, was only the beginning.


    The mage started chanting in the ancient language of sorcery that I didn''t understand as she slowly raised the amphora above my left arm and poured the serum and liquid gold into the open wound. The pain increased a hundredfold and seared through my flesh, the gold creeping beneath my skin and slowly burning a new layer of filigree in a band across the circumference of my forearm. The mage walked around the altar, chanting continuously in her distorted whisper. She poured the liquid into the incision there, draining the amphora into my arm.


    The liquid sizzled through my flesh as the gold erupted through my skin like lava through a fissure in the earth. Smoke rose from my arms and the mage''s chanting grew louder. I was sure that this time my heart would break free of its bone cage. My body shook with pain and grew slick with sweat. I felt like my whole being was on fire as the mage directed the smoke from my arms toward the Oracle. As the first wisps of it touched the Oracle''s face and she stirred, the mage stopped chanting. Everything was quiet except for my laboured breathing and the thrumming of my heart in my ears. I felt the crumbling of the wall in my mind and knew I couldn''t keep Skye out much longer. The mage looked down at me and bent close to my ear.


    "Have I ever told you that you''re the only one that doesn''t scream?" she whispered.


    "Only every time I tithe," I gritted out. I would never give her the satisfaction of hearing me wail or beg, but the effort it took just to speak those five words started the rapid erosion of the wall in my mind.


    Like a river breaking free of a dam, Skye''s thoughts and feelings ruptured what remained of my defences and flooded into me, as my thoughts did to her. She felt my limbs shaking and straining against the shackles, and I felt her exploding with violence in her cage. She felt the burning in my arms as new bonds of ink and gold formed in my flesh, and I felt her snapping at the air and hissing in reptilian fury. She tasted sweat and blood on my lips and I tasted the leather and venom as she sank her fangs into the bars, testing the cage for weaknesses. I saw Kiran step toward her, the look of astonishment on his face, the helplessness in his eyes as he turned and rushed to the door and tried to pull the handle, staring at the inscriptions holding it shut as though he might be able to decipher them in time. I heard Skye yelling in my mind - Save! Save! Save! Save! - and I realized she wasn''t talking to me, she was yelling at Kiran and he couldn''t hear her.


    The blinding luminescence of my pain and rage started to burn through the edges of my vision and I knew the connection to the Oracle was almost complete. The light drained from the room and the incessant billowing of the curtains stopped, and for a moment the fabric was suspended in time as though frozen in ice. The light behind them pulsed and a deep, reverberating sound came from every direction, descending in pitch until it reached tones too deep for me to even hear. The last of the searing gold marks burned through my arms like fuses sparking, and when the final one flared out, a blast of wind shot through the room and toward the Oracle.


    The room darkened as though we were thrust into the night sky, constellations twinkling around us. The Oracle opened her eyes and looked at me with a white, pupiless stare, her arms outstretched to the sides. My head felt like it was cracking open, my throat like I''d swallowed glass. The Oracle drew from my power and took over all space in my mind, pushing me aside until I was little more than a conduit. The connection was complete. I was blind to everything else in the world but what she would show me.


    Though more bearable than before, the pain still radiated through me, seeping through every vein and winding through me like worms of fire. My eyes were open, but I wasn''t seeing the Oracle, or the darkened room. I couldn''t hear the sound of my ragged breathing or my racing heart, nor could I smell the thick incense or the singed flesh and hair of my arms. All I could see and smell and taste was a battlefield. The Blackmoors.


    I was looking down at the familiar face of a man. Captain Stelos. His eyes were open and unseeing, locked on the sky. There was a splash of blood along his cheek. A knife in his open palm. A slash across his throat. Heat still radiated from his skin. I bent and licked it, tasting salt and iron. I whined. Desperation. Despair. I looked down the length of his torso. His legs were partially submerged in the thick, oily black water. The air smelled of blood and piss, sweat and excrement. Sulfur. I heard a man cry out in the distance and looked up. He was about thirty feet away, kneeling, dressed in a black sleeveless tunic embroidered in gold and black pants. He cradled a soldier in his arms and rocked over him. He cried out again. A name: Theo. Over and over. Theo, Theo, Theo.


    The man went quiet but his body shook with sobs. I heard a distant clanking sound and looked away, across the mottled battlefield of bodies on little islands in the black water. The enemy advanced toward us from the fringe of the solid ground. I focused back on the man, who didn''t look up from the person he held in his arms as he gently laid the soldier down and stood. His head was bent. The man turned until he faced the advancing troops, raising his head, then standing motionless. The ash and dirt on his face were streaked with tears. I will never, he said, though there was no man left to listen. He raised his arms with his palms facing the enemy soldiers encroaching in the distance. An intricate lace shone on his arms. A whisper came on the wind and I smelled life and decay. Magic. The gold on his arms started to glow dark orange, and he looked down at the design with an expression of pained surprise. The orange became yellow, and then an intense white. The man laughed and refocused on the line of soldiers ahead. Until the pyre, he said, and then he released a thick stream of fire across the moors to the enemy line. He sprayed the army with flame. The oily water burst into fireballs around us. I started to run away. When I stopped to look back, the army was incinerating. Soldiers ran until they fell. They contorted in anguish. They all screamed. All except the Diviner of Fire, who hunched over the fallen soldier and burned until they both became one, a single soul, aflame.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Next, I saw hills and rocky outcrops from high above. I circled effortlessly on thermals, gliding over the expansive army of our enemy, the Kingdom of Viceron, as they advanced eastward. Their black armour seemed to catch and destroy light. It had no shine in the high and unforgiving sun. In the distance was a ruined castle tower. It stood several stories high, constructed of brilliant white alabaster, the east side of it missing blocks that had tumbled down the hill it stood upon. The remaining west side pointed into the sky like a jagged spear. I didn''t linger here as there was no death to feast upon. Not yet.


    Lastly, I saw the Artaxian Mountains, and I knew this body almost as well as I knew my own. Scales against skin, an unblinking gaze. The familiar rocking gait and smell of horses from the shoulders of my own human body. The scent of rose and sandalwood. I caught cedar, too. Pine. Decaying leaves under the hooves of our horses as we walked along a mountain road. The leaves were changing colour and falling. I looked around and saw Kaylon beside us on our left. Freya and Nikolas were behind us, talking quietly, followed by some unfamiliar guards, and trailing behind them was Rolfe. Ahead of us were more guards, as well as Ansel, Kiran, and the red-haired woman from the Theatre. Ansel said something and the other two laughed, Kiran turning toward us with a warm smile lighting up his handsome face. I felt my own heart rate pick up through Skye''s scales on my chest. As he turned back again, we rounded a corner in the road and a high waterfall came into view. The waterfall fell into mist and a long wooden bridge connected the sections of road bifurcated by a deep gorge cut from the mountain by the river below. The unsettling roar of water over rocks rose up through the sparse trees that clung to the jagged cliffs. The skin below my scales went hot at the sight of it, the pulse rapid, the breathing unsteady.


    The one place I thought I''d never see again. The one place I never wanted to return to.


    No. No, no, no, no, no.


    I had to get out of this place before I got any closer. I pushed at the Oracle in my mind, but it was like she was protected by a thick, opaque film that held me back. I didn''t give up. I pushed harder. The pain increased. She wanted to explore this place in the future, and I wanted to leave. A buzzing sound started to take over, and with it a high-pitched, constant squeal that felt like a knife in my brain. I couldn''t break the barrier between us, but I finally heard the voice of the mage as the connection started to loosen. The pain began to recede until only a thin thread of the bond held us together. I was already talking, relaying what the Oracle had seen and deemed worthy of expression in a voice that was not under my own control.


    "Diviner of Fire, the Blackmoors. The spell was cast and the bonds were burned, the army devoured in flame. A great love lost in ash. Viceron marches past the White Tower of Jacan and into the morning sun. Weapons of the Kingdom journey where hope falls on the mountain pass. The past will find the future. The strength of the Kingdom is not whole. The war is still upon you."


    With that, the connection drifted away, and I was finally free of the presence of another being in my mind. The mage continued chanting and the pain ebbed away until it was a throbbing ache in my arms and head. My breathing was still ragged and my body quaked in shock. My jaw clattered no matter how hard I tried to clench my teeth. My eyes burned as though I''d been staring at the surface of the sun. I felt completely drained of everything but the thinnest sliver of my soul.


    "You may leave, Diviner," the mage said after removing my shackles. I sat up slowly and glanced at the Oracle, back in her serene stasis as though nothing had happened. Her hair swirled. The curtains billowed. The incense coated the floor. I don''t deserve this, I thought, forlorn. I had no energy left to fight.


    I rose unsteadily and shuffled my way to the door. I held my head up, even though it felt like a sack of stone. My stomach churned and the room spun. It took all my strength to move one leg at a time. I knew how many strides I had until the door; I''d counted them many times. Only ten more. Only nine. Only eight. Finally I made it to one and I reached out with a shaking hand, curling my fingers around the iron handle. The spell sensed my presence and the door unsealed. I pushed and the incense swept out in curling fingers as I passed the threshold, as though the Oraculum didn''t want to let me go. Kiran was there on the other side and he reached for me, but I threw out my palm in a wordless request for him to stay back. I needed to stand unaided for as long as I could manage until the door closed behind me. I would not let the mage see anything less than me on my feet with my back straight and my head held high until I heard the door seal again.


    The second the door was closed, I ran with jerking, lurching steps as far as I could away from the building, fell on my hands and knees, and vomited on the cavern floor.


    "Gods," I spat out hoarsely, pulling my hands off the obsidian and wiping them on the hem of my dress. "She has the power to cast illusions. You''d think she''d at least make the outside a little more cheerful. You survived another tithe, now look at this pretty forest. Not this disgusting, slippery cave," I said in a wavering, weak voice as I glanced around. "It''s just so... so... moist." Cringing, I took a few deep breaths and looked up at Kiran, unable to read the meaning behind his expression. "Ugh, your face," I said, looking away again, crawling from the pool of vomit. "I don''t know what''s worse, your pity or your disgust."


    "Oh, you think this is my pity face? No, this is my awed face," Kiran said. I looked up at him in undisguised surprise. He smiled, jokingly, but with both worry and sadness too.


    "If that''s your awed face, it needs work."


    "I''m out of practice. Not many people awe me anymore." We stared at each other a moment, and Kiran knelt down to meet my eyes. The tense smile drained away and concern overtook his expression, wrinkling his brows as his eyes darted between mine. I knew how terrible they looked. They would be bloodshot for the next two days at least, not a speck of white visible against the violet irises. "I''m sorry, Quinn," he said, laying a hand on my quaking shoulder. "I''m so sorry."


    "No," I said, closing my eyes and shaking my head. "There''s nothing you could have done, and you tried. I saw. It''s more than anyone else has done." I bent my head, exhausted. "This is the way it is. It''s been this way long before you came. It will be this way long after you leave." I glanced up and offered an understanding smile. Kiran''s eyes darkened.


    "I''m not going anywhere," he said quietly. I thought that he was right, he probably wasn''t, but I suspected we had different reasons for believing that. He wanted to be valiant. The kingdom wanted to horde the best soldiers. Different reasons, same result. "I think someone wants to see you," he said, nodding back to the cage where Skye weaved anxiously. "Is she going to bite my face if I let her out?" I looked back over my shoulder at her and smiled weakly.


    "As entertaining as that might be, I don''t think so, but I make no guarantees." Kiran offered a lopsided grin before he stood and walked over to the cage, careful to not stand between us as he opened the door. Skye dropped out of the enclosure and serpentined toward me as fast as she could go. A rush of relief came from her, and the scent of roses and sandalwood that I knew she associated with me.


    Safe, she said, winding herself gently around my waist. Safe.


    "Yes, I''m safe. It''s alright now. Thank you, Skye." I closed my eyes as her face met mine and caressed my cheek.


    Sanctum, she whispered, showing me an image of my room. I heard Kiran''s footfalls coming up behind us, slowing to a stop on my right. I glanced up at him where he stood with his helmet and my sleeves in his hand. His face was still etched with concern, but also curiosity as he watched Skye comfort me.


    "Yes, we''re going home now." Skye uncoiled from my body and drifted toward the stairway. As I started to push up from the floor, Kiran''s hands gently grasped my upper arm, careful not to touch the throbbing skin of my forearms where the fresh marks glinted in the torchlight. When I was sure my legs could carry my body, I took a few slow steps, pausing whenever I felt close to either vomiting or falling. After a few stops and starts, a strong arm slipped around my waist and steadied me, taking the bulk of my weight before making some ground-covering strides toward the stairway.


    "As much fun as this has been, I suggest we make some progress and get back before next week," Kiran said with a faint smile.


    "I was managing on my own," I snapped, trying and failing to infuse my voice with strength.


    "Yes, you were. Slowly." Amusement danced in his eyes and a dimple appeared as he looked down at my scowling face. "Incredibly slowly."


    "I think I hate you."


    "I think you''ll love me at least a little bit when I get you back to your room in a quarter of the time it would take otherwise."


    I glared up at him, assessing the pros and cons. Since we had already made it to the stairway, it was clear he had a point. "Don''t you dare pick me up," I groaned.


    "I wouldn''t dream of it."

 Chapter 6

    The next morning, I woke late to a knock at my door. The sun was high and bright, the day warm and the sounds of people chatting in the courtyard drifted up to my balcony on the summer breeze. I got up and gingerly pulled a robe over my aching body before heading to the door. Adri stood on the other side, her skin glowing from morning training, a plate of cheeses and fruit in hand. There was a guard I didn''t recognize in Scipian armour standing next to my door, facing the corridor. He looked down at me and nodded once. Another guard stood behind Adri. He was handsome, if a little stoic, with dark red hair and fair, freckled skin. Adri''s grass green eyes darted to the side and back to me, widening with sparkle and mischief. A wordless communication simmered in her expression that said look what else I brought with me. I smiled.


    "You brought snacks," I said thickly, my smile widening. "You do know how much I love a good snack."


    "Oh yes, in the morning in particular," Adri replied, the mischief in her eyes brightening. I swallowed, tramping down a laugh.


    "I''m famished."


    "I bet you are. You haven''t eaten in so long. Really, a long time. You''re in dire need of snacks. It''s just becoming sad."


    I shot forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her into my room before I could burst out laughing. I shut the door quickly with a word of thanks to Adri''s guardian who took up post beside the other soldier. "Oh my gods, you are truly terrible," I hissed through a giggle. "So who is this new snack of yours? He looks very serious."


    "He''s my lead guardian," Adri replied, climbing up onto my bed and setting the plate down on the blankets. "His name is Rikar," she said around a grape.


    "Well, Rikar may be in need of some lightening up," I said, climbing onto the bed next to Adri. I popped some cheese into my mouth and relished the strong flavour, not realizing until that moment how hungry I was.


    "My thoughts exactly. It would be a fun challenge," she said with a wink as she brushed some sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. "I''ve still got nearly a year to play before the wedding, and it would be an entertaining way to pass the time until then. If only he weren''t my guardian... I''d rather not be done for treason." We fell quiet for a moment as we picked at the plate Adri had brought, both thinking about her upcoming arranged marriage to Nikolas, Diviner of Smoke.


    "What about Rolfe?" I asked, the joking tone from earlier having ebbed away. I knew she was intrigued by him and the boldness of his offer at the Theatre. She didn''t say anything for a long moment.


    "I haven''t searched him out yet, but I''m thinking about it." Her eyes were cast down toward the blanket as she plucked at a broken thread. "I do like his terms. Stabbing him still holds a certain appeal." She smiled up at me, infusing her expression with a bit more of the mischief she''d entered with.


    "I think you should," I said, lying back on my bed while I inspected a particularly delicious slice of cheese. "He is obviously smitten and he hasn''t even seen your face. If nothing else, you''d have a nice dinner and an opportunity to stab him with a fork. What more could a lady possibly want from a date." We smiled at one another but I could see something lingering in her eyes, something that dampened the usual brightness there. "What''s wrong?" I asked, laying my hand on hers.


    "I just... I don''t know what the point is. I barely know him but I feel... drawn to him. Not like the other snacks around here," she said with a joking yet vulnerable smile. "What if I like him? I''m fated to another. It''s not like I''ll be able to get away with what Deacon could, being married and loving another as he did. I''m not related to royalty. I have nothing to bargain for keeping secrets like that. Once Nikolas and I are wed, that''s it." Adri looked down and tugged at the broken thread of the quilt. "It doesn''t seem fair."


    "It''s not. It''s not fair at all," I said, squeezing her hand gently. "But what''s also not fair is stopping yourself from living now because of what might happen in the future. That''s not being fair to yourself. Anything could happen over the course of a year. You could have dinner with Rolfe, end up hating him, and stab him in the chest with a fork." Adri giggled, though I caught sight of a tear rolling down her cheek. "You could fall madly in love with him, and the marriage laws could change. Or you find a way to keep it a secret love, like Deacon did, even without royal connections. Maybe you end up realizing you''ve been madly in love with Nikolas all along." She shot me a doubtful glare and then laughed. "How will you know unless you let yourself try?"


    Adri shrugged. "I just don''t want to get hurt."


    "No one gets away from life unscathed. We Diviners know that better than anyone." I crawled carefully off the bed and went to my wardrobe, flicking through the dresses until I found a dark blue one. "How much time do you have until you''re needed back at the training yard?" I asked over my shoulder as I disrobed.


    "About an hour, why?"


    "That should give us plenty of time to find Rolfe," I said as I pulled the dress over my head.


    "Oh gods no, not now!" Adri whined but still slid off the bed, brushing crumbs of cheese off the front of her training tunic. "I look like I''ve been dragged behind a horse. I smell like it too."


    "Never. You''re as beautiful as always." I walked over to her and swept back a few strands of her cornsilk hair that had escaped from her low bun. She rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders, heaving a heavy sigh as she smoothed out her sleeves with her hands.


    "Fine, let''s get this over with. I''m taking your falchion, though," she said, grabbing the sword from where it hung on the side of the wardrobe. She strode toward the door, determination in her steps.


    "That''s the romantic spirit." I followed, albeit stiffly, the pain from the last two days still radiating through my limbs and chest. Opening the door, Adri focused on her new guard.


    "Rikar, we''re going on a little expedition and I need you to keep your distance. This is Quinn. She has an attack snake. You''re going to want to be nice to her." With that, Adri strode off down the hallway, and Rikar and I blinked at each other. I could tell that my bloodshot eyes repelled him, but he was too polite to look away.


    "Pleased to meet you," he said, stunned by the unexpected encounter with his new ward.


    "Pleasure''s all mine," I replied. I turned to the other guard. "Are you joining us?" He gave a stiff, slightly confused nod. "Alright, we should get a move on then. You don''t want to keep a Diviner waiting. Particularly not that one..." I pivoted away from the Scipians and started down the corridor after Adri, the guards following a few paces behind. I caught up with her as she reached the end of the corridor and headed down the flight of stairs toward the foyer of the Sanctum. Once outside the building and into the fresh air, she stopped abruptly.


    "I haven''t a clue where to look," she said, sounding surprised, as though the realization had only just struck her that she knew very little about Rolfe or his habits. "What does he... do... exactly?"


    "I have no idea, but I think I know someone who can help." I turned toward my guard, who I still hadn''t even met, and marched over to him and Rikar. "Do either of you know where Kiran is, please?" They looked at each other, seeming surprised that I would address them so directly. Rikar swallowed.


    "He''s with Captain Donseer, my lady."


    "...My lady?" I repeated, squinting.


    "...Your grace?.." I shook my head. "...Diviner..." I shook my head again.


    "Quinn," I said emphatically.


    "Lady Quinn."  I rolled my eyes and glanced back at Adri, who simply shrugged and shook her head, equal parts dumbfounded and ready to move on to the task at hand.


    "Can you lead us to him, please?" Rikar gave a nod and the two guards led us toward the barracks where the Scipian soldiers had taken residence. Though it was one of the more utilitarian buildings within the fortified walls of Castle Eridanus, the foyer and reception rooms were still decorated with sculptures, armour, and beautiful silk tapestries that depicted images from the Kingdom''s history. Kings and queens, brave soldiers, legendary battles, and successful meetings with the leaders of allied territories all hung on the cold stone walls. As we waited in the foyer while Rikar summoned Kiran, I looked at each tapestry in detail, stopping in front of one with the title The Fallon Fields embroidered at the top. Adri came to stand next to me, scrutinizing the battle scene.


    "Wasn''t Kaylon at the Fallon Fields? Didn''t they call upon him to help win that battle?" Adri asked, searching for his likeness.


    "He was, yes," I replied.


    "Do you think they''ll do the same for the Blackmoors?" Adri asked quietly after a long and thoughtful pause."Make a tapestry and leave out the contribution of the Diviner who granted them that glory? Seems like the lot of the Diviner, doesn''t it. We win the wars, and then we are erased from history." She ran her fingers over the fabric, tracing the face of one of the soldiers immortalized in silk. "For all our sacrifice, we deserve a little thread," she whispered.


    Before I could reply, we heard footfalls approaching from the corridor where the study and common rooms were located. Rikar strode toward us, followed by Kiran. I swallowed thickly as our gazes met and then quickly looked away, remembering how awful my eyes still looked and how unaccustomed the Scipians would be to seeing the aftermath of our tithing.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    "Good day to you both," Kiran said, coming to a stop beside us.


    "Good day," Adri replied.


    "Is there something I can do for you? Rikar said you were in need of my assistance." Adri fidgeted, shifting from side to side on her feet.


    "Yes, I..." she said, trailing off. "I need to..."


    "I believe you know Rolfe?" I supplied, meeting Kiran''s gaze again. He showed neither pity nor revulsion in his expression, only a hint of amusement as his eyes darted to Adri and back to my own. "We need to speak to him. Do you know where he might be?"


    "Actually, I do," he said, barely containing the faintest smile. "He''s in the Queen''s Garden. He will be securing purple jade from the East for the new extension. I believe he''s there now to take measurements." I looked at Adri, raising my brows in question. The look of renewed determination was set again in her jaw and her vibrant green eyes. She gave a little nod.


    "Many thanks," she said, and with a turn as elegant as a dancer, she was off again, headed to the open doors of the barracks and into the sunlight. I offered Kiran a slight smile and said good day, following after Adri but keeping some distance. I heard the footsteps of the guards as they fell in step behind me. Once outside, Adri headed toward Queen''s Garden, which was spread beyond the rear of the Great Hall, and I veered off toward the balcony at the back of the Hall where I might be able to watch from afar.


    "Stay with me, please. She needs some space for a moment," I called over my shoulder to the guards without looking back.


    "Yes, Lady Quinn," I heard Rikar say. I shook my head and resolved to show Rikar how unladylike I could be on the training grounds once I had recovered from the tithe. The guards and I walked up the wide stone steps of the balcony adjacent to the Great Hall and looked over the gardens, spotting Rolfe standing in the distance, bent over a table that had been brought out for his work. I smiled to myself, thinking he had no idea what storm approached.


    "He''s in for quite a surprise," Kiran said, his low, rich voice startling me as he came to stand on my left. I hadn''t realized he''d replaced my earlier guard and come with Rikar. My heart stuttered a broken rhythm as my injured eyes took in his tanned olive skin that glowed in the sun. A dimple appeared in his stubbled cheek as he offered a lopsided smile.


    "Just wait until she stabs him with a fork. Then he''ll really be surprised."


    Kiran chuckled in response, and we were silent for a long moment, watching Rolfe as he dipped a quill in ink and wrote in the journal laying open on his desk. "Are you alright, Quinn?" Kiran asked quietly. I glanced up at him, entrapped by his white blue gaze.


    "Yes... why?"


    "The tithe..." he said, trailing off. I looked away again, not responding for a long moment.


    "It has happened before, and will happen again. It is the sacrifice all Diviners must make from time to time," I said quietly. I looked down at my hands, turning them over as if there was something to be foretold from the lines on my palms. "Why do you ask, Kiran? Are you concerned?" I asked, trying to infuse my voice with a little brevity through a faint, joking smile.


    "Yes," he said. I felt heat rolling off of him and turned my gaze to his. Kiran''s eyes were piercing shards of ice, his expression hard, his jaw set. We stood motionless, staring at one another, his anger warming the space between us. He seemed too close, and yet not close enough. When I tried to avert my eyes, he moved his head and kept my gaze locked to his. "I am very concerned."


    I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Everything I thought I could say died on my tongue: you can''t change anything, you don''t know what it''s like, I don''t need your concern... none of it felt right or true. The truth was, I wanted to be able to change it, and I did think he knew what it was like to have to sacrifice, somehow. And I did want him to be concerned, because it stirred something in me to have the care of someone who wasn''t like me, who didn''t have to tithe at the Oraculum and who wasn''t bound by the same fate. Someone who cared even though they didn''t have to experience the same pain.


    Our gazes finally unlocked when we heard a yelp of surprise from across the garden, and we looked across the lush beds of exotic flowers and blooming shrubs to see Rolfe standing rigid at his desk with Adri pressed up behind him. She had the falchion drawn against his neck and was speaking quietly into his ear, too distant for us to be able to make out what she was saying. Rolfe''s hands were posed in surrender as he listened, finally nodding once to whatever Adri had said. She then slowly withdrew her sword from his neck and backed away a few tip-toed steps, and then took off at a run toward the low garden wall that she scaled in a graceful, twisting jump. Rolfe then slowly turned around, hands still raised, scanning every flower bed and tree for a glimpse of the woman who had already melted into the air like a whisper. He turned fully until he saw us on the balcony and offered a wide, bright smile, his hand smoothing over his neck where the blade had kissed his skin.


    "They are fated. He could only fall in love with a woman better than him, and I have a feeling she''s better at everything than Rolfe," Kiran said with a dimpled smile after instructing Rikar to head back to the training yard where Adri was due to arrive. His eyes lost all of their iciness, replaced with warmth and affection for Rolfe who was packing up his belongings on the table.


    "I won''t argue that she is better at everything, nor that he will fall hopelessly in love with her..." I said with a touch of sadness etching my voice.


    "But you don''t believe they are fated?" Kiran''s eyes darkened, faint lines appearing between his brows as concern crept through his expression.


    "I can''t speak for fates or gods," I said. "I don''t know what the future holds. But if the path she follows is that decreed by the Queen, then Adri is to marry the Diviner Nikolas next summer." Kiran''s eyes seemed to flare with refracted colours. They looked like hurt, and sadness, and anger.


    "An arranged marriage," he said as looked toward Rolfe, who was starting to wind through the garden toward us.


    "Yes. We are to marry others of our kind, carefully matched by our capabilities, in the hopes that our children will inherit blended powers."


    "And you?" Kiran asked, his voice deeper and with an edge as though it was being dragged through jagged stones. He gripped the bannister of the balcony, his knuckles turning white. "Are you fated to marry?"


    "No," I said after a pause. "Not yet. There is no other like me, no other that I would be well-matched for." I looked down into the garden, so many emotions fleeting through my chest like falling feathers. Loneliness, as I felt separate from the other Diviners. Relief and sadness, both always twining together whenever I thought of our arranged marriages; I was still free of that obligation and the potential to be wed to someone I didn''t or couldn''t care for, but sadness for how it kept me from ever moving forward. And lastly, a hint of excitement, that the most handsome man I had ever seen seemed relieved when I said ''no''. The way his grip on the bannister relaxed, the deep breath he''d taken - none of these small gestures went unnoticed by my skipping heart. Even though I knew it was forbidden to be with a guardian, and I knew nothing would ever come to pass between us, the fact that he cared would be enough. It would have to be.


    Rolfe joined us on the balcony before either of us could say anything more, taking the steps two at a time with a flourish when he landed on the last, like a magician performing in front of children. His smile was wide and his face beamed. "I will be crossing swords!"


    "I don''t think I''ve ever seen a man say that with such a smile before," Kiran said with a grin, his expression losing the edge it had acquired during our talk of arranged marriages. He seemed hopeful and pleased for his friend. "I take it that the lady Diviner has agreed to your deal?"


    "She has. Three days from now, at midnight. If I win, she will have dinner with me the following night."


    "And if you lose, you die?" I supplied. He turned his gaze to me and his smile widened, his warm brown eyes sparkling through thick, dark lashes.


    "Perhaps, though I tend to have luck on my side." Rolfe took a few steps toward me and reached for my hand. "You must be the Diviner of Beasts," he said, and brought my knuckles to his lips. "After all this time, I finally have the chance to see your face."


    I blushed, looking down at his knees at the grass and dirt lingering on the fabric where he''d knelt during his work in the garden. Something about it felt sincere and endearing. "It''s a shame then that this will be your first impression. I am usually more put together. I apologize for my disturbing appearance, it will resolve in a few days." I saw Kiran''s hand fold into a fist in my peripheral vision, and looked back up to meet Rolfe''s gaze. His smile softened and he squeezed my hand gently.


    "Not at all, Lady Diviner," he said. "You are more beautiful in person than Kiran described." I glanced up at Kiran, surprised, and saw a blush flame briefly across the tops of his cheeks as he kept his eyes trained on Rolfe. Rolfe''s smile flickered with amusement at the scrutinous glare from his friend.


    "Please, call me Quinn. It''s a pleasure to meet you outside the pit."


    Rolfe gave me a nod and let go of my hand, and the conversation shifted to his work procuring rare stone for a new section of the garden for the Queen. Rolfe was a trader in many rare objects it seemed, and he spoke of travelling to the East to obtain the purple jade and other gems that were destined for clients at Castle Lakeridge. As they spoke of precious stones, my gaze flicked to a movement in the garden. A large bridle dog trotted down one of the pathways through the beds of brightly coloured dahlias, its tail down and its head low to the ground. I recognized it immediately, having seen it at the edges of the training yard many times before.


    "Excuse me," I said to the two men with a brief nod before picking up a brisk pace down the stairs to head off the dog before it could disappear from the garden. Keeping it in my sights, I jogged past the beds of chrysanthemums and starflowers and stopped in front of the surprised animal.


    Hello, I projected, with intentions of warmth and safety, expressing an image of seeing the dog lying in the sun at the training yard. I knelt down and communicated the scent of blooming roses and rich sandalwood. My name is Quinn.


    Draco, the dog said. I saw an image of myself at the training yard, the dog showing me a time when I''d been practicing hand-to-hand combat with Brogan, Diviner of Sand.


    I saw the Blackmoors through your eyes. I am sorry about Stelos. I grieve for your loss. I showed Draco the image of Captain Stelos'' face from a happier time, when I''d seen him walking through the courtyard joking with fellow soldiers, Draco trotting happily next to his master. I felt sadness from Draco and he whined, sitting on his haunches. His amber eyes looked troubled, darting around the garden as if he wanted to escape to the shadows. The Diviner of Fire, I said. I saw his bonds burn.


    Smelled magic, the dog said, the smells of the battlefield flooding my sinuses and the back of my throat. The smell of life and decay, the scent of magic and ash.


    Yes, I felt it. Why did the Queen burn his bonds? I asked. He was destroying the enemy after they killed our soldiers, and I don''t understand. The dog tilted his head and regarded me, confused that I hadn''t seen all of what he had. Draco then jumped backward suddenly, his hackles rising and his head down, startled as Kiran approached me from behind.


    "No," I said, throwing a palm in each direction, imploring them both to stop. "Please wait."


    Not safe, Draco whispered. A chill raced across the gold in my arms and up the back of my neck.


    Who... him? I asked, showing an image of Kiran''s face in response.


    No. For you. The dog looked around and whined, and then he showed me. I saw our soldiers in the Blackmoors, stalking around the oily bogs toward the enemy in the distance, their weapons drawn. I saw smoke drifting toward them, crowding them, and then they all stopped, standing motionless. I felt the unease in Draco, the smell of stagnant water, of sulfur, of sweaty men, of metal and fear. Draco looked up at Stelos and scraped at his leg with a paw, but the man didn''t look down, caught in an unbreakable trance. In unison, the men raised their arms, tilted their heads to the sky, pressed the sharpened metal to their skin, and drew their blades across their necks. They fell, gurgling, gasping. They all fell except one, Deacon, who staggered in disbelief and despair toward the dying body of a man. Theo.


    "Another Diviner..." I whispered aloud. "But I don''t understand, Draco. Why did the Queen burn Deacon''s bonds?"


    But Draco did not reply, and backed away until he finally turned and disappeared into the shadow and safety of the dahlias.

 Chapter 7

    "What was that about?" Kiran asked as I rose and turned toward him. I laid my hands on my hips, looking around as though the willows and flowers could tell me more than Draco had. Skye appeared then from beneath a spray of forsythia, winding her way to me slowly, a lump in her belly from a recent meal. I bent down and offered my arm to her so that she could climb up onto my shoulders.


    "I was asking Draco about what I saw at the Oraculum," I replied, looking in the direction that the dog had left in. "I saw the Blackmoors through his eyes. It was only a few moments on the battlefield, and I didn''t understand all of what went on. He just showed me more." Kiran blinked, confounded.


    "I have many questions," he finally said. I gave a brief smile, tracing my fingers down the ridges of scales on Skye''s head.


    "I''m sure you do."


    "You... speak to them? And they speak to you in return? I thought perhaps you compelled them to do as you asked, but I didn''t realize you... communicated." I laughed at the disbelief in his voice.


    "For a stalker, you seem to know very little about me."


    "What do they say to you? What does the viper say?" He asked, ignoring my playful jab. It was nice to have someone take interest, rather than just distant curiosity or even fear. Walking around with a viper necklace didn''t often endear me to others, particularly when Skye''s protective nature became well-known among the castle inhabitants.


    "Skye says ''ass'' a lot," I said through a smile. Kiran let out a laugh of surprise, a nearby group of young women who were strolling through the gardens giggling in response. They were close enough that I could see one blush crimson. Kiran didn''t take any notice as he stared down at Skye with a gleam of delight in his eyes. "She doesn''t say many words," I explained as we started to walk back toward the courtyard. "She communicates mostly with images, smells, sounds, and feelings. When she uses words it''s mostly only one at a time, sometimes more if it''s important. Her words usually start with or contain an ''s'' sound. That''s why ''ass'' is one of her favourites."


    "She has favourite words?" I huffed at his earnest surprise.


    "Don''t you?" His brows furrowed as he thought about that. "We are just another animal. It shouldn''t be a surprise we''re more akin to a snake than not."


    "That''s true, I suppose," he considered thoughtfully. "What other favourites does she have?"


    "Assassin," I said simultaneously with Skye''s voice in my head. "Two asses, sass, and sin all in the same word? What''s not to like." I said drily but with a smile and an affectionate glance down at Skye''s ever watchful eyes. Kiran''s laugh soared over the rustle of the willows and the songs of hidden birds.


    "I think I like this snake," he said. Skye''s tongue flicked as she regarded him with her amber gaze. "Do all beasts speak to you?"


    "It depends on what type of animal and on the individual being. Some talk more than others. Some I can''t hear at all. I''ve met other snakes, for example, and shared images or sensations with them, but none have spoken words to me like Skye does."


    Special snake, Skye said.


    She then showed me an image so vivid and potent that I could barely see or feel my surroundings beyond it. It was something she hadn''t shown me before. There was a pool of still, dark water, a lake or a pond, with coloured leaves floating like little boats on its surface. A smell of decaying leaves. Cool liquid in my throat. Thirst abating. I saw Skye as she drank from the water, her face reflected in the black surface. There was something more... a feeling. An awareness. A presence...


    "What about horses?" Kiran asked. I shook my head as the vision from Skye cleared.


    "Horses?"


    "I''ve often wondered if Zanfyre can understand me," Kiran asked as we started into the courtyard and passed a team of horses on their way to the tower gates.


    "Zanfyre is your horse?" Kiran looked away from the team and back to me with a smile as he nodded, his dark hair an array of rich browns in the light of the midday sun. "I can''t hear horses. It doesn''t mean he can''t understand you, only that I can''t hear him. I can''t hear any such creature," I said, looking away.


    "What do you mean?" Kiran asked, but I didn''t answer. I didn''t truly know why I had never heard a horse, or a mouse, or a rabbit, or a songbird. I could only ever hear predators, and had wondered for many years what that said about the source of my power, or about myself.


    "Let''s find Kaylon," I said as we headed toward the training yard. "Maybe he can make sense of what I saw." We walked in silence through the rest of the courtyard and veered right through the stone arches that would take us to the grounds where the rest of the Diviners would be training. The sounds of weapons and voices grew louder until the space opened up to a large sand ring bathed in sunlight. Weapons of all kinds hung at various points along the walls, an area with targets and dummies for archery and knife-throwing set along the far side of the arena. Nikolas stood facing one such dummy, several knives waiting in his left hand while he took aim with his right. The knife wheeled through the air and struck the heart of the lifeless form. In the centre of the ring, Adri was fighting with Rikar, and he was instructing her on the weaknesses in the Viceron armour as they danced through the sand. Near to them and watching the fight was Ansel, Diviner of Metal, who looked over as we entered the arena, running his hand through his mop of sweaty blond hair and giving me a wink. I smiled and rolled my eyes, to which he laughed before turning back to Adri''s match. Kiran and I continued our unbroken stride, walking toward where Kaylon concentrated intently over papers spread over his desk.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "Good morning, Little Viper," Kaylon said as we approached his table. His rich, ebony skin glistened in the heat of the unobstructed sun. He looked me over with his honey-coloured eyes, his smile warm but his face still tight from the effort of his labour over battle strategies and research. Kiran extended his hand and introduced himself, and I could see his eyes scan over the gold and black tattoos that spun from Kaylon''s wrists to his shoulders where they disappeared beneath his tunic.


    "Worry not for me, son. You have enough on your hands with this one," Kaylon said, nodding at me before turning back to lean over his desk. Kiran looked at me with a question in his eyes.


    "Kaylon is an empath," I explained. "He can both sense and control the emotions of others."


    "Right now I''m having trouble controlling even my own," Kaylon muttered, rubbing a hand over his close-cropped black hair. The silver at his temples glinted in the sun. Kaylon had seen more lifetimes than most as we Diviners aged more slowly than those not gifted with godly powers, and the decades were starting to bear down on him in more ways than one. "I''ve stared so long at these maps that I''m struggling not to rip them apart." I looked over his shoulder, down at a map of the Blackmoors.


    "What are you doing?" I asked, looking at the notations he''d made about the positions of the infantry and cavalry cohorts.


    "Learning from the past to prevent the mistakes of the future." I glanced up at Kiran, who swept his gaze around us and nodded. I laid a hand on Kaylon''s shoulder and he looked up at me with a quizzical expression.


    "About that... we need to talk. Somewhere more private." Kaylon glanced at Kiran and then back to me, gave a single nod and then rose, gathering his papers into a leather satchel before leading us back to the Sanctum. Once inside, we headed to the library where the light from the tall windows caught the dust motes that drifted between the rows of books that lined the walls. We walked to a set of burgundy leather armchairs and Kiran and I sat as Kaylon poured himself a glass of whiskey from the row of spirits near the empty hearth.


    "So what is going on, Little Viper?" Kaylon asked as he sat across from us and set his satchel down next to the chair. He sank into the leather with a weary sigh and cradled his drink in a large, calloused hand.


    "There was a Diviner for the Viceron army at the Blackmoors, wasn''t there?" I asked. Kaylon drained his glass and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and balancing the empty vessel between his hands.


    "Yes," he finally said. "We believe there was another Diviner there, and that they were responsible for what happened to the infantry on the eastern flank of the battle. Deacon''s group became cut off in their position, and by the time we reached them, no one was left."


    "So where is this Diviner now?" Kiran asked. He tapped a percussive pattern with his finger on the worn leather armrest.


    "We assume they perished in Deacon''s counterattack." Kaylon ran a hand over his head and then clasped the back of his neck. "There was nothing left from either side. Everything was ash."


    "What makes you think they perished?" Kiran pressed. Kaylon regarded him with a battle-weary gaze.


    "What did you see?" Kaylon asked of me, deflecting Kiran''s question.


    "A strange smoke surrounded the men and they stopped on the battlefield as if transfixed by a spell. They slit their own throats. All except Deacon," I answered quietly.


    "That''s why we believe the Diviner also perished," Kaylon said as he rose, meeting Kiran''s eyes in answer to his question. He walked to the table of liquors and poured himself another glass of whiskey. "The Diviner felled over a hundred men in seconds. If that person had survived, why wouldn''t they rejoin their ranks and kill again?"


    I turned in my chair to watch as Kaylon sipped from his whiskey and inspected one of the other glass bottles holding an amber liquid. "But if Deacon was about to kill that Diviner and the opposing troops, why did the Queen burn his bonds?" I asked.


    Kaylon set the bottle down and it rattled unsteadily. "What did you say?" I glanced at Kiran. The look he returned was dark and unreadable.


    "I saw... on the battlefield... his bonds. They burned. There was magic in the air and then his bonds alighted." Kaylon moved toward us, his expression sunken, fearful. The weariness of earlier was replaced by an edge of anxiety.


    "That''s impossible," he whispered. "The Queen was with me. She never uttered a spell."


    "What about the mage?" Kiran asked as rose from his chair, his hand resting on the glittering hilt of his sword.


    "She was here," I said. "Even if she had a way of knowing what was happening during the battle, which is unlikely as she was at the castle, she couldn''t have enacted the spell without the consent of Queen Myrian. She is bonded to Fidelium as much as any of us. Her magic simply wouldn''t have worked without the Queen''s permission."


    "And you''re sure of what you saw?" Kaylon asked.


    "Yes, I am. The Oracle saw it also, and spoke of it in her prophecy as the connection was severing. The Queen may already know if she''s consulted with the mage."


    "Then I need to discuss this with the Queen, and determine what further protections we need to enact," Kaylon said, stalking to the armchair and picking up his satchel. "I ask you not to discuss this with the others for now. The last thing we need is panic." I nodded as Kaylon approached me, resting his heavy hands on my shoulders, the thick muscles of his arm tense. "Thank you for letting me know. I''m sure the Queen will be very grateful for this insight." I nodded again and offered a weak smile, and then Kaylon departed from the library, leaving us in taut silence. Kiran stepped toward me, his muscular frame blocking the view of the door.


    "You left something out," he said quietly, looking down at me through thick lashes. Heat seemed to radiate from him in the short distance between us.


    "Why would you say that?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.


    "Kaylon knew there was a Diviner at the Blackmoors for the Viceron army. The Queen likely knows about the bonds from the mage." Kiran took another step toward me, the smell of cedar drifting around us as Skye''s face came alongside mine, tongue flicking. "Something else about this is weighing on you, isn''t it? It certainly is on me."


    "Aside from not knowing who claimed Deacon''s bonds and not having conclusive proof as to whether a powerful enemy Diviner perished in the battle, what could possibly be weighing on me?"


    Kiran smiled. His eyes shone, a single dimple appearing in his lopsided, conspiratorial smile. "What indeed," he said. He turned then, striding toward the door. "I need to meet with Captain Donseer, he should know what''s going on," he said over his shoulder.


    "Kiran?" He stopped and turned, his brows raised in question, his face lit by a shaft of light that sliced through the room like the sun was meant to find him no matter how deep the darkness. The way that he looked at me then, as though he held an earnest and fragile hope that I could learn to trust him, erased any lingering doubts I had about confiding in him about what I''d seen. "Deacon... he spoke, before the end. He said ''I will never,'' but there was no one left to listen."


    Kiran''s expression hardened. His fist closed tighter around his sword. His eyes seemed to flash in the light, for just an instant. "Perhaps someone heard him after all."

 Chapter 8

    By the third day following the tithe at the Oraculum, the redness had finally subsided from my eyes and I was starting to feel my energy return back to me slowly, like it had been stolen away in the night and was finding its way home. There was little more I could do until fully healed, so I spent most of my time watching the sessions at the training yard and waiting for any updates on the progress of the Viceron army or the meaning behind what I had seen on the Blackmoors. I was sitting on a bench in the shade of an overhang, watching Draco skulk around the edges of the training yard while I considered another attempt to communicate with him when Hadriana, Diviner of Darkness, came to sit next to me.


    "Sometimes I believe training is worse than the battle itself," she said, twisting her long black hair away from her pale face. She was waif thin and looked as delicate as glass, but was a powerful weapon who could cast darkness on command, leaving her enemies blind to attack. She was also the youngest and most endearing of us, her darkness belying the inexhaustible kindness beneath.


    "I would have to agree," I said, looking out across the yard as the others toiled at their lessons in the summer heat.


    "I heard that Adri has a date with a sword tonight," she said, smiling, her alabaster skin and her elvish face brightening with the prospect of romance, even if it wasn''t her own. I smiled back at her.


    "Yes, her adversary is very handsome. If he''s lucky, he won''t walk away with some scars. If he''s very lucky, she''ll have dinner with him." Hadriana''s black eyes glittered in concern.


    "But she''s so good with a sword! Do you think he has a chance of winning?"


    "Only if she lets him," I said with a wink. Hadriana laughed, the sound like wind chimes on a cool breeze.


    "I wish we could go to the ball. I imagine they would be beautiful to watch dancing. She''s so elegant," she said wistfully as she watched Adri spar with Rikar, leaning forward to rest her chin on her interlaced fingers.


    "What ball?" I asked. She turned her gaze back to me, bittersweet delight drifting across her lovely face.


    "The evening feast and ball for the Scipians, in a fortnight. There is a lunch banquet we must attend. Surely you''ve heard?" I shook my head.


    "Do you not know Quinn at all, Hadriana? She''d rather be dancing in the pit of the Theatre than at some pretentious ball," Cato interjected as he came to lean on the wall on the other side of me. We turned to see him bite into an apple, his blond hair darkened with sweat and his thickly muscled arms crossing his broad chest.


    "Cato! You know nothing about that," I said. I could feel the crimson creeping into my face as Hadriana giggled next to me. Cato, Diviner of Lightning, winked at his young bride, light and dark for once a perfect match. They had been smitten with each other since their teenage years, and when the Queen decreed them a match and had them wed in the spring, they couldn''t have been happier.


    "I think the only person who didn''t know about your little excursions is the Queen herself, and even that''s debatable," Hadriana said. I heard Cato smirk behind me. I turned and glared at him, which only made his grin widen.


    "Yes, you did quite well until that one came along," Cato said, nodding to the opposite side of the training yard where Kiran had entered and stood watching the sparring progress of Freya and one of the guards.


    "What did you say?"


    "You know, when you lost? To the big guy over there?" Cato''s smile grew and he took a self-satisfied chunk from his apple. The light in my vision started to build.


    "Is that what Kiran told you?"


    "I cannot betray my sources, but I can say that news of your defeat travelled quickly."


    "Cato, if you keep this up we''ll wind up with a snake in our bed," Hadriana chided, though her musical voice sounded more amused than concerned.


    "Skye loves me. She can come for a snuggle any time."


    "Spiders," I threatened, glaring as I rose from the bench to intrude on Cato''s personal space. "I will fill your bed with spiders."


    Cato chuckled. "Now, now, Quinn. If you have a problem with losing, why don''t you take it up with the one responsible." Gods, I wanted to punch Cato''s smug face for drawing the word losing out so long. Since I couldn''t do that with Hadriana''s doll-like smile beaming up at us, I planned to heed Cato''s advice. I''d take it up with Kiran.


    Marching across the training yard, I stopped at a set of sabres, taking up one in each hand, feeling the weight of the cool metal in my grasp. Satisfied, I directed my strides toward Kiran, who turned when he heard me approach. A brief look of surprise flitted across his face and melted into a knowing smile when he saw the swords I carried.


    "Rematch," I commanded, tossing a sword toward him. He clasped the grip and cultivated a mask of feigned disbelief.


    "I thought you were still recovering."


    "I want a rematch," I said, seething. Kiran tested the blade thoughtfully, tossing the handle between his palms.


    "What do I get if I win? Dinner?" He said with a joking smile and a glance at Adri, who stood nearby. Her eyes narrowed to contemptuous slits in response.


    "Don''t patronize me," I bit out, taking a step toward him. Kiran''s expression darkened, a line appearing between his dark brows. "Unless you''ve forgotten, I didn''t lose in the pit, I forfeited to maintain my anonymity. Which, it appears, was a waste of my time since you seemed to have told everyone anyway." I pointed my sword in the direction of Cato and Hadriana, Cato''s laugh echoing off the stone walls. Kiran smirked, though I could see a shard of fury pierce through his eyes.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "I neither kiss and tell, nor win and gloat. You''d do well to remember that," he said, fixing his mask of nonchalant amusement back into place as he stepped toward me. I stood my ground, determined not to lose this little game of words.


    "I don''t have a need to. Only a need for a rematch." I anchored my right foot and stepped back with my left, holding my left arm aloft behind me for balance while I brought my right forward, twirling my wrist and swinging the sword in an arc until it pointed to the sky, ready for attack. "If you''re not too worried about getting a scratch on that pretty face, perhaps we should fight? Unless, of course, your plan is to talk me to death, which you are doing an admirable job of." Again, that sliver of fury appeared in Kiran''s eyes and I took it as indication of a point scored for me in our little war of words.


    "Fine," he said, stepping back and positioning his body for attack. "Far be it from me to keep a lady waiting."


    I scoffed. "Forgive me if I say I have my doubts about that." I launched myself forward, the blade of my sabre meeting Kiran''s as he parried my attack. He retreated a few lunging steps as I continued an aggressive advance until he danced out of reach. We circled each other and my eyes flared with light.


    "Careful, Quinn," Adri called in a low, warning voice. The others had gathered at a safe distance to watch and I glanced over at her, wrestling my rage under control.


    "Yes, you should listen to your friend. You don''t want to get hurt... again..." Kiran said as he swung his blade in a circle, preparing for another bout.


    "I''m not talking about her getting hurt. I''m trying to protect you," Adri replied, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. Kiran''s beautiful, charming smile bounced from Adri to me, and he seemed wholly unconcerned with that possibility. Sword at the ready, he waited, patient, like an unhurried cat with the tail of a struggling mouse beneath its paw. We continued to circle with careful, crouching steps.


    "Are you going to attack me, Kiran, or are we going to dance all day?" His smile grew at his own words quoted back to him.


    "If this is your idea of dancing, you will be very lonely at the ball," he replied.


    "I''m not going to your pompous ball, so I suppose I won''t have the opportunity to watch you walk around aimlessly for the entire night," I snapped back, lunging forward in an advance with my blade. We attacked and parried back and forth, the sound of metal striking metal clamouring up the nearby stone and echoing back to us. I tried to use my advantages, my lightness and grace, my aggressiveness, and Kiran used my weaknesses against me: my lesser strength, my anger. He soon matched my aggression and had me retreating, and I was parrying his blows and moving backward while I tried to regain my composure in the sand. I finally leapt back to create distance between us and launched an immediate counter-attack, snatching his sabre by the guard with the toe of my blade and twisting it out of his hand. It flung through the dust and landed with a twang, the tip stuck in the dirt. I stood upright, breathing heavily, my sword facing skyward, and before I could smugly celebrate my victory I was sailing through the air. Kiran''s body twisted, taking the brunt of the fall before rolling us over and pinning my back to the sand.


    "Great, but not exceptional," he said. Mint and sage and cedar enveloped my senses. I could see the fragments of colour in his eyes, shards of the palest blues and greens in a sea of white. "Your anger gets the better of you."


    Anger? Gods yes. I was enraged.


    My vision started collapsing to white, blinding light that ate up the periphery, hungrily devouring shapes and forms until it felt like I could see through them.


    I loathed being told my weaknesses. I loathed being told I was not exceptional. I loathed being taken by surprise. And I particularly loathed that Kiran thought he''d won. Again.


    But he hadn''t.


    This time, I didn''t push him off, or kick and flail, or snarl or spit or snap like an animal caught in a snare. This time, I smiled. This time, I waited for the animal in me to call for aid.


    And aid would come.


    I knew they would already be close, drawn to me and watching the conflict with keen eyes. There is always a predator where you don''t expect one, observing from the shadows or waiting in ambush. All I had to do was find them in the eclipse of light, to peer through the veil separating my mind from theirs. I lost myself to instinct. I summoned, and they answered.


    First, I heard a low growl, the ferocity of which caused Kiran to look up and immediately lessen his grasp on my wrists. I didn''t move, though I could have broken his hold easily. I glanced in the direction of Draco, whose head was low to the ground, legs braced wide, lips curled back over teeth, saliva dripping on the sand. Next, I heard the familiar sound of Skye''s scales racing over the ground toward me, the way her hiss rose and fell with every pressurized breath. As Skye''s face came alongside mine, her tongue flicking and her crystalline eyes focused on Kiran''s, a pulsating wind stirred the grains of sand nearby with an audible whoosh. I looked over at the glittering claws of a Copper-taloned Eagle. I''d never seen one so close and was entranced by the way the metallic hooks shone in the sun, sharp as the deadliest forged blade. It folded its voluminous grey wings behind its back and it stalked through the dust toward us, letting out a piercing cry. A single copper talon tapped on the ground impatiently.


    "That would be eagle for get the fuck off," I said, smiling sweetly at Kiran, the glow of my eyes reflecting in the glassy surface of his. He looked back at me and returned my smile, but it reached neither his eyes nor his dimples.


    "So this is what you can do. I''m impressed." Kiran let go of my wrists and eased back, still hovering over me. "Imagine how much better you could be if you didn''t let your anger rule you." He sat up and offered me a hand, Draco snapping at the air in response on my behalf. I scooted back from him and stood, communicating feelings of appreciation to the eagle as it took off toward the sun. Draco ceased his growling but stood to my left, Skye coiling around herself on my right. Kiran got up and towered over me, not bothering to brush the dust from his hands or knees. "The lesson is over, for now. But if you want to learn how to control your anger, rather than it control you, let me know." With that, he gave me a nod and the hint of a smile before leaving the training yard, not bothering to pick up his wayward sabre.


    "Well," Adri said, coming up beside me as we watched Kiran leave through the stone arches. "I hope for Rolfe''s sake that his date goes better than Kiran''s." My head snapped in her direction, my eyes narrowing.


    "Excuse me? In case you hadn''t noticed, that was a fight, not a date."


    "Hmm... it felt more like a date to me."


    "Your idea of a date is... somewhat disturbing." I bent and picked up my sabre, Hadriana pulling the other from where it stood stuck in the sand. She tossed it to me and I caught the grip.


    "I have to agree with Adri. It was romantic. He asked you to dinner and the ball," Hadriana said, her voice full of whimsy as she spun an elegant turn on one foot.


    "He did neither! He taunted and insulted me, and that is all." I could feel my cheeks flame, my eyes flashing with light as I glared at them both.


    "Well, he is right about one thing," Adri said, moving a foot out of the way as Skye serpentined past her to the shadows of an overhang. She watched her for a moment and then looked back at me with a smile, but also a sadness in her eyes that felt awfully close to pity.


    "What''s that?" I asked in a low voice, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.


    "If this is what you can do with anger, what could you do with love?"


    "He never said that," I said, the flame in my cheeks growing hotter. Adri''s eyes glinted like dew on summer grass.


    "He didn''t have to."

 Chapter 9

    I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening wandering the castle grounds, one of my other Scipian guards, Felix, following but keeping his distance like a disembodied shadow. From the castle walls to the courtyard, from the Great Hall to watching the blacksmith hammering iron over his anvil, nothing sated the feeling of unease that crawled under my skin like a nest of insects beneath a log. I finally wandered into the Queen''s Garden, hoping to take my mind off of the bout with Kiran and Adri''s words in its aftermath. The whole situation filled me with a kind of discomfort, mostly because I knew they were both right. I had marginal control over my anger, particularly when I had nothing to lose. Their words had brought to the surface a truth that I had always known deep within. My power was borne out of rage, and yet it felt... incomplete. If I could fuel it with more than that... what could I become?


    The thoughts were swirling in my head like wraiths when I turned past a blooming rhododendron and nearly ran into Rolfe. We both startled and took a step backward, Rolfe recovering quickly with a wide smile.


    "Lady Quinn! What a pleasant surprise to see you here. The Flower of Fidelium in the Queen''s Garden... I suppose that makes sense."


    I returned his smile, though my face still felt tight. "Please, just call me Quinn. I''m hardly a Lady of the Court." I realized I''d let my emotions slip a little, and widened my smile to compensate. "It''s a pleasure to see you as well. How is your work going?"


    "It''s coming along. Would you like to see?"


    "Yes," I said, with a genuine smile that time. "Very much so." Rolfe offered his arm, and I looped my hand into the crook of his elbow. We walked at a languid pace toward his work area, taking in the colourful lupines and fragrant irises as we went. We arrived at the barren section where earth was overturned and Rolfe''s long wooden desk sat empty.


    "This will be where the purple jade will border the top of a stone retaining wall," Rolfe explained, gesturing to a mound of dirt. "I have a contact who has found beautiful specimens of balloon flowers, wax plants, and camellias. The Queen has requested camellias for some time but they are difficult to procure." We walked a little further as I tried to picture the final execution of what he described."And this," Rolfe said, pointing to another mound of dirt, "is where the greenhouse will be located to house rare flowers such as orchids, which I will also procure from the East." I glanced up at Rolfe, admiring his vision for his work.


    "Do you enjoy what you do?" I asked.


    "Yes, very much so," he replied with a sincere smile. "I find rare treasures, I meet new people, I cultivate friendships. It suits me well."


    "I imagine it does." It wasn''t difficult to envision Rolfe''s charm in negotiation or his enthusiasm for rarities. "Tell me, before coming here had you met any other Diviners?" Rolfe''s smile took on a mask-like quality, something I imagined he slipped on frequently in his line of work.


    "A few." We started walking again, heading toward the dahlias where I had spotted Draco a few days earlier. "Your friend that I am to cross swords with tonight... tell me about her?"


    "Why, are you concerned about your duel this evening?"


    "A little."


    "So you should be. You will only win if she lets you," I said with a smile of affection and pride for my closest friend. "But she is kind, and fair. She will only stab you if you deserve it."


    "Then let''s hope I do nothing to deserve it." We smiled at each other, Rolfe raking his hand through his black hair.


    "I don''t think you have anything to worry about," I replied, stopping in front of a purple dahlia and running my fingers over one of its silken petals. I sighed, my smile faltering.


    "Something troubles you," Rolfe said, looking down at me with concern in his dark eyes.


    "I fear I have been neither fair nor kind, and it weighs on me," I confessed.


    "Ah, the training yard today," he said with a gentle smile.


    "How did you know about that?" I could feel my brows draw close and my eyes narrow as I looked up at him.


    "Acquiring information is the first step in acquiring rare objects," he replied. I scrutinized his face for any hint of malice but found none. He laid his hand over mine, as though he read my concern. "Look, I''ve known Kiran a long time. He asks the best of himself, and likewise he strives to bring out the best in others. He can be antagonistic in his pursuit of such goals, but the intention is pure."


    "I suppose that makes sense," I conceded, considering Rolfe''s insight. "I felt he was unfair, and I still feel that way. But I also don''t feel that I handled it well. My anger... sometimes it takes over."


    Rolfe turned to face me, laying his hands on my upper arms. "Kiran values trust, and part of trust is accountability. If you feel you''ve done wrong, just apologize. I''m sure he will meet you halfway." I smiled and looped my hand through Rolfe''s arm and we started walking again.


    "Wise words for a man who is willingly about to be stabbed with a sword or a fork," I said. Rolfe''s laugh sang through the flowers, and my thoughts dwelled on what he said as we parted ways at the entrance of the gardens. I felt Skye''s presence approach as I watched Rolfe depart into the deepening dusk of the summer evening, picking her up so she could twine around my arms and shoulders. I called back to Felix who waited patiently several paces behind me and asked him to lead me to the Scipian halls.


    It took me a moment to actually knock on Kiran''s door when Felix deposited me in the corridor. My palms heated and the residual pain in my chest suddenly felt more acute as my heart rallied against the fading bruises in my bones. A door could be so many things: an opportunity or an ending, a chance or a failure. It felt both impenetrable and full of possibility. The weight of a simple door seemed to press on me and I wanted it to stay shut as much as I wanted it to open. I finally gathered the courage to knock, and was already starting to turn away when it opened.


    "Quinn," Kiran said, sounding surprised. He neither smiled nor frowned, his face indifferent but not unkind. "Come in." The door opened wider and Kiran''s room was spread before me as he stood back and allowed me to pass. It was sparsely decorated, with thick, deep crimson curtains framing the tall window and matching blankets laying on the well-made bed. A number of books lay stacked on a small mahogany table and one of the two accompanying chairs. There was a set of dark leather armchairs next to the empty hearth, the mantle of which was lined with a row of candles of various heights, all lit. A glass of whiskey and a worn book laid spread like a dying bird across the small end table next to one of the armchairs.


    "I''m sorry to disturb you. We can always speak another time if it''s inconvenient," I said, taking a few ginger steps into his room.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Not at all," he replied, picking up his glass and bringing it to a side table where the bottle of whiskey and several clean glasses waited. "Would you like a drink?"


    "Yes, please," I said, in desperate need for the courage of spirits. As I set Skye down on one of the armchairs, Kiran poured me a glass and topped up his own, handing me the etched crystal vessel. I took a sip, letting the burning liquid bite the back of my throat and coat my chest in warmth. I sighed, looking down into my glass as I swirled the liquor, trying to conjure a spell of courage. When I looked up again at Kiran, his eyebrows flicked upward and the hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. I drained my glass.


    "Another?" Kiran asked, holding out his calloused palm. I nodded, unable to speak around the fire in my throat. He refilled my glass and handed it back to me. I took a long sip.


    "I''m not good at this," I said.


    "I can tell," he replied, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. I rolled my shoulders and looked down at the floor, willing the words to form on my tongue. I shook my head a little and met Kiran''s eyes again.


    Gods, how is it he seems more beautiful every time I look at him, I thought. His face was lit by the warm glow of the flickering candles, his broad, athletic frame relaxed in the comfort of familiar surroundings. I took another sip of whiskey.


    "I came to apologize, for earlier," I finally spat out. There was a moment of silence where I half expected Kiran to say something, but he simply waited, unmoving. "You were correct earlier that my anger sometimes gets... out of control..." I trailed off and looked at Skye as if she could save me, but she simply sat coiled on the chair, observing, silent as a stone. I rolled my eyes and tried to refocus on my purpose, taking a deep and cleansing breath. "My power first manifested out of rage," I said quietly, looking down. "Sometimes it feels like there is little else to draw on here. I didn''t mean to take it out on you." I looked back up, meeting Kiran''s opalescent eyes. He smiled, his features softening.


    "I''m sorry too," he said, looking down into his glass. "I have goaded you, and your anger was not unwarranted. You were right when you said I was patronizing. Forgive me." Kiran''s gaze collided with mine. I felt the sincerity of his plea in the worried tick in his jaw and the way his eyes bored into mine.


    "Forgiven," I said. "Provided, of course, that you will honour your offer to help me learn to better control it." Kiran''s smile spread, both dimples winking through the dark stubble on his cheeks.


    "I can do that."


    I nodded, looking past Kiran to the window and the darkening sky beyond, wriggling a little as I fidgeted in my discomfort. "You''re not used to apologizing, are you," he observed.


    "No."


    "Nor asking for help." I shook my head and moved my shoulders and arms around, trying to loosen the feeling of being uncomfortable in my own skin. "How do you feel?"


    "Itchy," I said, squirming a little. Kiran blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion, a frown pulling at the edges of his lips. "Umm... flummoxed?" The frown deepened and is his head tilted. "Okay then, vexed... No? How about confounded?..."


    Saudade, Skye whispered in my mind. I snapped my fingers and pointed at her with a delighted smile.


    "Yes! What the snake said. Saudade. I''m very much...saudade..."


    Kiran''s sudden, uninhibited, sonorous laugh filled his room.


    "Those don''t even go together! Itchy and flummoxed?"


    "Of course they go together!" I protested. "I am flummoxed as to why I am itchy. I am vexed as to why neither flummoxed nor itchy seem to be satisfactory responses. And I am extremely confounded as to how a snake knows the meaning of saudade, particularly when I... do not." Kiran''s ivory blue eyes danced, his dimples in full force.


    "So, you are very much feeling saudade."


    "Yes, most definitely."


    "...A nostalgic yearning..."


    "Uhh..."


    "For what, exactly? My charmingly patronizing instruction methods?"


    I snorted, clamping my hand over my mouth to try to stamp down the giggles that followed, which was made only more difficult by Kiran''s bright smile and the look on his face, like he had won a prize by making me laugh. He stepped toward the fireplace and sat in one of the armchairs, motioning to the other where Skye was coiled in an offer to join him. I picked her up and rested her on my lap, her head climbing my torso until her face was nestled in the warmth of the crook of my neck. Kiran watched as though entranced by the candlelight that reflected off of her blue scales.


    "I suspected it must be hard for you all here, bearing so much of the weight of the kingdom''s protection on your shoulders. I think I underestimated just how hard, however," he said as he offered a kind smile.


    "Is that your pity face?" I joked. He laughed and looked into his glass with a sheepish grin. "In all seriousness, there is pressure here, yes. And sacrifice. But we as much as we protect, we are protected. We have food, shelter. We have a certain status that affords us some liberties that aren''t perhaps so obvious. Just look at Skye. As a child, I brought a venomous attack snake into a castle and there was never a question about keeping her, even after her murder spree." Kiran chuckled. "We are trained to look after ourselves and each other. We have a family with one another. We don''t want for anything."


    "You don''t?" Kiran asked, his voice low, his eyes glittering. His expression lost any trace of amusement, replaced instead with something rich and dark, like a spiced liquor. Something foreign and unfamiliar. Something intoxicating and dangerous. I ran the tips of my fingers along the length of Skye''s scales as I regarded him, not breaking our tangled gaze.


    "What is the point in wanting more than what you can have?" I asked before taking a sip of my whiskey.


    "I thought that was the point of life, to want everything. To pursue more than you thought it possible to attain," he replied, turning his gaze to the tawny liquid he swirled in his glass. I smiled a little, though it felt melancholic in my skin.


    "Perhaps, for a person. But I am a Diviner."


    "Is a Diviner not a person?" Kiran turned his gaze back to me with a look like he thought he''d caught me in a little trap.


    "No," I said, my voice sure and the timbre strong. I drained my glass, enough liquor already in my blood that it no longer burned down my throat. "A Diviner is more. And we are less." I stood and passed my empty glass to Kiran, our fingertips grazing as the crystal transferred from my hand to his. The warmth of Kiran''s touch radiated up my arm. "Thank you, Kiran, for your hospitality. I''ll see you tomorrow."


    "Let me escort you back to the Sanctum," he said, starting to rise from his chair.


    "No, that''s all right," I replied. "I know my way back. Felix will be there waiting for me. And I have a snake for the journey in between," I said, holding Skye''s head toward him. Her tongue flicked, her amber eyes catching the candlelight. I pulled her head back up to my shoulder and smiled faintly. "Goodnight, Kiran."


    "Goodnight, Quinn." I left Kiran in his armchair by the mantle filled little flames and left the Scipian barracks, suddenly feeling a pleasant kind of tiredness in my limbs, as though the weight I''d been carrying all day had finally eased from my bones. I crossed through the courtyard, slowing to a halt part the way across to admire the vibrant stars in the cloudless night sky. The scent of wisteria drifted toward me on the warm summer breeze that caressed my face. This is what you can have, I thought to myself. Somewhere along the thread of this life, I had learned to cherish these moments: a summer breeze, the scent of a flower, a star-riddled night. They may have been little, simple things, but they were things I could absorb. They were memories I could keep. I soaked them into my pores with a breath that filled to the bottom of my lungs.


    I started walking again, thinking of Adri''s date with Rolfe, and how it would only be a few hours until their blades would glint in the starlight on a perfect summer night. I thought about my advice to her, to live as though her options were endless, and about my talk with Kiran. In replaying those conversations in my mind, I felt as though my life was more closed-off to opportunity than the lives of those I knew and cared for. It felt like the future was somehow wider for Adri, even though she was due to wed Nikolas by decree of the crown, or Kiran, even though he''d sworn an oath to protect me for the rest of his life. Even Hadriana and Cato, who had always been together and now were married. It felt like their life together was rich and abundant with possibility. We all had limitations. But why did theirs feel less constrictive than mine?


    As I slowed up the steps of the Sanctum, lost in thought, I felt a warmth like breath on my skin and turned. Looking back across the courtyard, I saw Kiran, his tall frame illuminated by moonlight, a hand resting casually on the sword at his side. He''d escorted me anyway but had given me space. I smiled faintly, unable to see if he smiled in return, and then turned and stepped over the threshold, into the darkness of my home.