Page 38

Chapter 37

Callan

C allan brought his sword up, knocking an arrow out of the way. Not before it grazed his shoulder though. He hissed at the sting, but he didn’t dare check the wound and take his eyes off everything going on around him.

This was pure chaos. The Fae all had their magic, and things had exploded. Eliza had come to help Azrael next to him, the two of them working together to take down a seraph that had dropped in from the top of the walls. Cyrus, Cassius, and Briar were guarding Drake and Hale where they were gathered around the center table, while Scarlett was back on top of the thing, giving orders to Hale. Juliette and Nuri were locked in a battle of equal skill keeping each other busy, and Razik was back in the air.

“Focus, Callan,” Eliza shouted. “You’ve been training for exactly this!” Another seraph was coming for them, ?ames from Eliza engul?ng his wings a moment later. The seraph bellowed in pain, but kept moving forward with a sneer on his lips as he raised his sword. Air slammed into Callan, shoving him backwards, but Prince Azrael was there, keeping him on his feet.

“Stay in the shields,” he said tightly, a wood stake appearing in his hand that he sent ?ying at a seraph coming at Eliza from behind.

“He has air magic,” Callan said pointing at the seraph. His wings were no longer burning, clearly having sucked the air from the ?ames.

“Ah,” Azrael replied, twirling his sword in his hand and focusing on the seraph in question. “You ever made a kill?”

“What?”

Azrael glanced over his shoulder at him. “Have you killed someone?”

Callan blinked at him. “No?”

“You’re about to,” Azrael answered. “I will bind his hands and take care of the wings. Your sword goes through his throat. Ready?”

Had he really just asked him if he was ready to take a life?

Before Callan could answer, the Earth Prince was rushing the seraph, vines winding up from the ground and snaking around the seraph, effectively distracting him while one wing was cut from his body.

“Solgard!” Azrael demanded. “Now!”

The Earth Prince took a punch to the face, knocking him back a few steps before Azrael got vines wrapped tightly enough around the seraph’s wrists. Callan rushed forward, tightening his grip on his sword. He didn’t let himself think about it when he brought his blade up and shoved it straight through the seraph’s throat. He twisted the blade at the same moment that Azrael managed to sever his other wing. Blood sprayed, and Callan choked down on the bile that rose in his throat as the warm liquid splashed across his face.

“Eliza! Fire!” Azrael yelled, and the Fire General turned, tossing ?re at the body of the seraph on the ground, before spinning back to the seraph she was ?ghting single-handedly. Fluid and smooth. She fought and pivoted with a skill that left no question as to why she led the forces of a Fae Court.

“Good work,” Azrael said, taking a minute to wipe his blade along his pants. “We go again.” He pointed his sword at a seraph that had just landed. Callan nodded, moving forward with the Earth Prince.

Again and again they worked to take down seraphs. They seemed to be never-ending. Every time they took one down, he could swear three more dropped in from above. Azrael did most of the work, but Callan’s sword went through throats and stomachs, more blood and gore splattering as they worked. And Callan realized he was actually doing this. He was part of the ?ght, not sidelined or forced to hide. Azrael could do this himself, but with Callan helping him, he was able to conserve his magic. They could take them down faster.

“Callan!”

Scarlett’s voice carried over the melee, and he turned to see her still atop the stone table.

“Get over here!”

He nodded, indicating that he’d heard her, before turning back to tell Azrael they needed to make their way to the center. But his gaze caught on Juliette’s mother sneaking up behind Eliza. She was close. Too close.

“Eliza!” Callan bellowed.

She spun, eyes widening at the sight of a dagger raised overhead. She blocked, but not fast enough. The dagger went into her chest. The Fire General was in black, but Callan could see the blood instantly soaking through her tunic. He was running, faster than he’d ever run before. A seraph stepped into his path, and he prepared to veer left, but before he’d made it a step, vines were yanking the seraph out of the way at the same moment an arrow of white ?ames went through the seraph’s chest.

Eliza had managed to shove Juliette’s mother back, but the female was still a Witch. She had been trained like one. Eliza was still ?ghting though. Sybil had tugged the dagger out, blood continuing to gush from the wound as ?re ?ared down Eliza’s sword, arcing through the air at the Witch. Sybil de?ected, and Eliza dropped the sword as Sybil threw something onto the ground between them, smoke billowing up. He couldn’t see anything, but he could hear Eliza coughing.

He staggered through the haze ?nding the general on her knees, her hand pressed to her chest atop the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. Up close, Callan could see the wound was off to the right, below her shoulder. Still severe but away from the heart and lungs. At least he hoped that was the case.

“Eliza,” he rasped, dropping to his knees beside her.

“Saw you... gut some seraphs,” she gasped out, her breaths harsh and full of pain. “Nice work.”

“I have an excellent trainer,” he replied, reaching over and pressing down on her hand to add more pressure to the wound.

“The potion... suppressed my magic,” she hissed. “We did not... anticipate a Witch.”

That had to be why Azrael wasn’t beside them yet. He knew what the smoke still billowing around him would do if he inhaled it.

“The mighty Fire General,” Sybil crooned with a sneer, stepping through the wisps. She was tall and thin, red-brown hair braided down her back. She had two long knives in her hands. Violet eyes slid to him. “And the dethroned Crown Prince. I will be rewarded for taking your lives.”

Eliza’s hand came up, clasping around his wrist. He’d dropped his sword somewhere in the smoke, but Eliza’s sword was lying behind him. She dug her nails into his ?esh, and when he met her grey eyes, he knew exactly what she was telling him to do. He slowly reached behind him feeling the blade beneath his ?ngers. He curled his ?ngers around it, blood welling as it sliced into his palm and ?ngers.

Sybil slowly prowled forward. “He should have taken care of you years ago, when the Wraiths were visiting you daily,” she continued. “Well, I guess only one really. How easy it would have been for Scarlett to slit that pretty throat while sharing your bed. Instead, they started sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.”

“By caring about children?” Callan asked, dragging the sword forward. The chaos around them, outside of the smoke they were hidden within, covered the sound of the metal scraping over the stone.

“They were trained to do what they were told,” she retorted. “But Eliné could never let that happen. She always encouraged them to ‘think for themselves’ and ‘follow their instincts’ when something didn’t feel right.”

He was caught off guard at the mention of Eliné, his movements stilling for a moment. “You knew the Fae Queen?”

Sybil rolled her eyes. “Yes, I knew her. I was the one who told Alaric of her plans to take the girls and leave Windonelle. In a way, I suppose you could say I am responsible for her death.” She smiled, something sinister and cruel. “It was shortly after that Dracon was hired to kill her. Did you know I worked under her at the Healer’s Compound? Can you believe that? A Witch working under a godsdamn Fae in a healing capacity? The sister goddesses would never stand for it.”

Callan had resumed sliding the sword forward, ?nally feeling his ?ngertips brush the hilt. He had no idea what Sybil was talking about.

Sister goddesses? There was no such thing, but the longer she spoke, the longer she remained distracted. Perhaps she hadn’t been trained as extensively as the other Witches after all. He couldn’t imagine the ruthless females talked so much before killing. They seemed more like the “kill now, ask questions later” type, but he wasn’t about to question the gods’ favor now.

He could hear Scarlett calling for him, her voice riddled with panic. What they needed was wind magic to blow the smoke from this chamber, but that was the one element they didn’t have at their disposal right now. Even having magic freed in this kingdom, the Fae were as powerless as the mortals when it came to this potion.

Except he wasn’t powerless. He’d been training with the Fae. He’d been training on how to defend against magic, how to ?ght against those naturally more powerful than he was.

Eliza was leaning heavily against him now, her grip on his wrist loosening, more blood smearing across his skin. The potion must be affecting her ability to heal too. That or the wound was worse than he’d thought.

He tightened his grip on the hilt. He’d get one chance at this. He knew that much. If he didn’t make this count, he and the Fire General were likely both dead. He’d probably laugh about the irony of that if they survived.

Sybil huffed a breath of laughter. “Looks like you’re up ?rst, Crown Prince. The general will likely be dead before I’ve ?nished with you.” She moved closer, sheathing one of the long knives at her sides. Her hand came out, ?ngers digging into his scalp as she wrenched his head back. “Mortals,” she sneered. “So helpless. So powerless. So utterly insigni?cant.” She leaned in a little closer, her voice going soft and vindictive. “So easily manipulated like that sweet young lady, going to the slums with her bleeding heart. Walking right into traps spoiled by a prince and his guards who had no business being there.”

He felt the knife snaking up his chest. He forced himself not to react, not to give in to the rage prowling beneath his skin. The knife paused over his heart before continuing up, the tip gliding against his exposed throat. The metal was cool and hot all at once, and all he could think about as he waited this out, waited for the perfect opportunity, was that if he failed, he would never see his sister again. Eva would grow up to rule a kingdom she knew nothing about. And Tava?

He could still feel the soft ?utter of her breaths as she’d slept in his arms. He could still smell the faint jasmine scent of her hair tonic. He could still hear the hurt and agony as she confessed she saw him dying her dreams.

He refused to make those dreams her reality. Even if things werenever ?xed between them, he wouldn’t let that nightmare come true.

He felt the knife pierce his skin at the same moment he let out a yell of de?ance, yanking the sword forward and plunging it straight into Sybil’s heart. He twisted it sharply, blood already spilling from between the Witch’s lips.

Sybil dropped to her knees, and he yanked the sword from her chest, only now realizing the blade he held was the spirit sword Eliza had won in that stupid maze race.

“Maybe,” he panted, “the mortals aren’t so powerless.”

There was a gurgle from the High Healer before she fell sideways, forever still.

He looped his arm under Eliza’s shoulders. “Come on,” he grunted. “We need to get you to your queen.”

He hauled Eliza to her feet, and she groaned. “That... was bad ass, Princeling,” she rasped.

He swiped his arm across his face, warm liquid smearing. His hand was dripping blood as they moved through the smoke, Eliza’s wound still steadily streaming. He didn’t know how she was able to walk.

The moment they stepped from the smoke, two winged males dropped before them. He instantly raised the sword he still held, only to drop it once more in relief when he realized it was Cassius and Razik.

Razik’s glowing blue eyes raked over them both before he stepped forward. “Get him to Scarlett,” he ordered Cassius, scooping Eliza into his arms in one swift movement.

“Put me down,” she protested, still managing to snap at him.

“When you can stand on your own, I’ll do that, Milady,” Razik retorted. “For now, you ?y with me.”

He launched for the sky a moment later. Cassius had a ring of black ?ames around them in the next breath, gripping his arm and dragging him forward. “What the hell happened in there?” he demanded, a knife leaving his hand. Callan hadn’t even seen him draw the damn thing.

“That potion that Sybil threw, it nulli?ed Eliza’s magic,” Callan said, stumbling over what he was fairly certain were charred body parts.

“I know that,” Cassius replied, shoving Callan’s head down. He heard the whiz of an arrow a second later. “We couldn’t go near it. We didn’t know if it would work on Avonleyans or not.”

That explained why no one had come to help. “I killed Sybil.”

He was jerked to a stop, Cassius staring at him. “You did what?”

“I killed Sybil. The High Healer.”

“I know who Sybil is,” Cassius said. “You are sure she is dead?”

“I shoved Eliza’s spirit sword through her heart,” Callan replied.

Cassius started dragging him forward again. “I suppose that would make her fairly dead.”

Callan felt tingling on his skin, and the ring of dark ?ames disappeared. He assumed they’d entered a shield of Scarlett’s, which was con?rmed when a shadow panther appeared at his side. A second later, the queen herself stood in front of him, eyes wide.

“You are covered in blood,” she said, eyes studying him. “Where are your wounds?”

“Nothing life threatening,” he answered. “Most of it isn’t mine.”

“He killed Sybil,” Cassius supplied.

“You did?” she asked, excitement ?lling her silver eyes. Only a Wraith of Death would be thrilled at the fact he’d taken a life.

“Drove Eliza’s spirit sword through her heart,” Cassius added.

“If we weren’t in the middle of a battle, I’d take you to a tavern to celebrate,” Scarlett gushed. “We’d get sloppy drunk, and I’d make you regale me over and over again with how it happened. Every minute detail.”

“But we are in the middle of a battle, Darling,” Cyrus said, appearing at her side. “Can we get a move on here?”

Scarlett practically skipped back to the stone table. She reached for Callan’s hand, pulling a dagger that was strapped to her thighs and slicing the pad of his fore?nger open. She stood beside him, directing his movements over a Mark she’d drawn on the map over his kingdom.

When he ?nished and stepped back, he realized almost all of their company was gathered around them. The Fae were covering them, keeping seraphs back, while Scarlett’s shadow panthers snarled and snapped at anyone who got too near on the ground.

Juliette and Nuri were still battling near what he now knew to be a mirror gate. Lord Tyndell had disappeared at some point, and Callan hoped they were long gone before he returned.

Razik dropped down, wings disappearing at the same moment his feet hit the stone. Eliza was curled into him, her head resting against his chest. Her eyes were closed. She’d lost consciousness, either from exhaustion or pain. Likely both. Rayner and Cyrus paused at his appearance.

“How is she?” Rayner asked, taking a step forward. It looked like he was going to reach for her, but Razik’s face promised violence if he did.

“My magic is holding the wound together, but she lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to a Healer,” Razik answered.

“We’re almost done here anyway,” Scarlett said. “You need someone to take her so you can Travel us or...?”

“I think I’ll manage,” Razik drawled.

They were all gathering close, Azrael rolling up the map, when another unit of seraphs descended. Juliette cried out as Nuri shoved her, and she stumbled backwards, ending up behind the various shields surrounding them. Callan watched the two lock eyes, Nuri’s lips pressing to a thin line. Juliette nodded her head, acknowledging something, before she turned and made her way over to them.

“Are you coming with us?” Scarlett asked, a tentative hope in her voice.

Juliette shook her head. “I cannot leave the continent.”

“We can’t leave you here,” Scarlett argued. “We’re surrounded. Our magic won’t hold out forever.”

“We can Travel outside, drop her off where we came in,” Razik said. “Then leave from there.”

Juliette was nodding. “Yes. We need to go. Alaric will be here any moment.”

“What?” Scarlett asked.

“It is why Nuri shoved me behind your shield,” Juliette answered. “But it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the mirror gate, and Alaric stepped from the air nearby a second later. That was pure rage and malice on his face as he took them all in.

“Everyone stop using your magic. Now,” Scarlett ordered, stepping in front of all of them. Shadows disappeared. Flames winked out. No one moved. The seraphs stood, waiting for orders. Callan could swear everyone in their company was holding their breath.

“What have you done?” Alaric hissed, eyes narrowed on -Scarlett.

“Exactly what I said I was going to do,” Scarlett replied. “I told you to check those cracks. Looks like you missed a few.”

He raised his hand, and Callan braced himself, preparing to feel the crushing around his heart when Alaric used his power, but Scarlett tutted at him.

“Not yet, Alaric,” she purred, backing up. Azrael grabbed one of Callan’s hands. Someone else grabbed the other. “Your nightmare isn’t over yet.”

Cassius’s hand landed on her shoulder, and Callan felt the pull at his navel before they were standing on the grass a few miles from the Necropolis. Juliette was already running, the cry of an eagle ringing through the night.

“I will be ?ne,” she called back over her shoulder, a half-lion, half-eagle beast descending from the sky. “Hazel is waiting for me.”

“Go,” Scarlett ordered, clearly not willing to waste any more time here and risk being ambushed.

Callan didn’t have time to catch his breath before he was tugged through the air again. It would never be right to him that they could cover so much distance in the blink of an eye. They crossed an entire sea in less time than it took for him to inhale a breath, but a second later they stood on sand. Winds were whipping around them. The sound of waves crashing ?lled the air.

“Where are we?” Scarlett cried.

“An island outside the Wards,” Razik shouted back, his words nearly getting lost among the howling winds. “Get out your vial. Dump it in the waters.” As she ?shed it out from an inner pocket, he added, “Everyone stay touching. We move again as soon as the Wards let us in.”

This time when they Traveled, they emerged inside a warm entrance foyer. They were not at the Greybane estate though. They were at the castle.

Kailia was there, her head tilting at their sudden appearance. “That was faster than I anticipated.”

“Where is Cethin?” Razik barked, the rest of them all fanning out.

Hale sank right to the ?oor, his head between his knees.

“Here,” the Avonleyan King said, coming from a hallway. His eyes scanned over everyone, alarm ?lling his face.

“We need Niara,” Razik said. “Now.”

Kailia was gone among smoke before Razik had ?nished speaking. “Who is that? Who is Niara?” Scarlett asked. “And where is Sorin?”

“I felt Razik at the Wards,” Cethin said. “I sent Riggs to get Sorin.”

The front doors of the castle ?ung open suddenly, the Fire Prince rushing through them. His eyes were locked on Scarlett as he stalked across the foyer.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, taking Scarlett’s face in his hands, searching her eyes.

She shook her head. “No, but Eliza... We need Beatrix, Sorin.”

Something haunted crossed Sorin’s features, but it was gone just as quickly. Scarlett saw it too, her features tensing with concern, but he said, “She is unavailable.”

“Still?” Scarlett asked. Sorin only nodded.

“Kailia is getting Niara. She is our most skilled Healer,” Cethin said.

“You have Witches here?” Callan asked.

“She is a descendant of a powerful Witch,” Cethin answered. “Let’s take her to a guest room, Raz. Niara will meet us there.” Razik was already moving toward the stairs. “Does anyone else need healing?” Cethin asked, turning to the rest of them.

“Minor injuries that can wait,” Cyrus replied. “Niara will want her to stay here to monitor her.”

“Then we will stay as well,” Scarlett replied, looking up at Sorin who nodded in agreement, his ?ngers threaded with hers. They headed for the stairs Razik had gone up, Cyrus, Rayner, and Cassius following.

“Of course,” Cethin said. “Your rooms are always ready, as are several guest rooms near your wing. Is everyone staying?”

“I need to see Tava,” Drake said, his voice monotone and raspy.

“I would also prefer to go back to my estate,” Hale added from the ?oor.

In the end, the mortals were Traveled back to the estates, Briar and Azrael choosing to stay with the other Fae.

Drake and Callan trudged up the stairs of the manor house. It wasn’t until Orson had Traveled them that he realized he still had Eliza’s spirit sword.

They were halfway down the long hall when Tava’s door ?ew open and she rushed out into the hallway. She stumbled to a stop, her turquoise eyes wide as she stared back at them. She wore a dark purple silk robe that went to her feet and was cinched tightly at the waist. Her gaze bounced back and forth between him and her brother, and her hand ?uttered up to her throat, ?ngers grasping for a phantom amulet.

“You are covered in blood,” she ?nally said.

Callan glanced down, having completely forgotten about all of that between the actual killing of Sybil and the Mark and Eliza.

“It is not mine,” Callan said. Then he amended, “Most of it is not mine.”

“Fath— Tyndell was there,” Drake said in the same monotone as before.

Tava’s hand dropped to her side. “He tried to kill you?”

“No. Maybe? I do not know,” Drake said. “I saw their tombs, Tava. I saw my tomb.”

“Drake,” she whispered, something pained in her voice. She took a few steps forward before faltering again.

“I am going to bathe,” Callan said, nodding at Tava. She looked like she was about to protest. “I assure you, Tava, I am ?ne.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded all the same, taking Drake’s hand. “Come on,” she said, pulling him towards her room.

Callan shut the door behind him when he entered his room, setting Eliza’s sword carefully atop the dresser. He would clean it for her after he’d cleaned the events of the night from his skin. Peeling the soiled clothing from his body, he dropped it into a pile on the bathing room ?oor. He assumed they’d be burned. There was no amount of laundering that would get them clean.

He had to drain the tub and re?ll it as he rinsed all the blood and gore from his ?esh, the water turning pink around him. With fresh hot water, Callan tipped his head back against the back of the tub, steam drifting up from the surface.

He had killed people today. He had been part of the battle. He had taken life.

He had fought alongside Fae.

He had ended beings’ entire existence. He had saved Eliza.

He had violently killed Sybil.

He couldn’t balance all of it in his mind. He couldn’t separate the virtue from the atrocity of it all. He could appreciate how different the battle had been from that throne room—that he had fought instead of cowered—but he could also feel the stain on his soul for ending life. The darkness creeping in that came with that sin, whether it was necessary or not.

How did Scarlett make peace with herself? How did any of them justify it for that matter? How did they decide it was worth it? How did they carry the weight of it with them?

Callan sighed, gripping the edge of the tub and hauling himself up, stepping over the edge and onto a bath mat. He quickly dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist before moving out to his room to ?nd clothing.

He didn’t expect to ?nd Tava there too.

“Oh my gods,” she gasped, turning away, hand ?ying up to block her eyes. “My apologies, Callan. I was bringing fresh towels. I did not... I will go.”

Callan fought the smile playing on his mouth at her cheeks going bright red. “Just let me get pants. How is Drake?”

She turned away completely, facing the wall. “He is also bathing. I am sorry, Callan. I thought you would already be done. When I realized you were still in the bathing room, I was going to leave them here and...”

He had already slipped into pants, his towel draped over a chair, and he reached out, gently touching her elbow. She jumped, and he bit down on the laugh trying to escape. “It is ?ne, Tava. I am dressed.”

She turned, her hands ?ying back to her face, cheeks heating all over again. “You are not dressed,” she stammered.

“Would you be more comfortable if I put on a shirt?”

“Yes. No.” She bit her bottom lip. “I am just going to go. This entire situation is wildly inappropriate.” He reached for her again, but stopped when she said, “You are bleeding.”

“What?”

She reached out this time, seeming to forget he was shirtless, taking his hand in hers. The deep slice across his palm and cuts on his ?ngers from gripping Eliza’s blade had reopened somehow, blood dripping to the ?oor.

Tava glanced up at him. “You said it was not your blood.”

“I said most of it was not my blood.”

Her eyes darted to his shoulder where the arrow had grazed him. “These need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

“I just bathed.”

“In water that was no longer clean after washing everything from yourself,” she argued, still holding his palm in her hands.

He didn’t bother telling her he’d changed out the water. She was already striding from the room, saying something about getting supplies from Magdalena. He was exhausted, but she was also right. The wound on his hand needed to at least be wrapped.

He moved out to the sitting room, stooping to put logs into the hearth and start a ?re. The ?re Fae had been taking care of this since they’d been here, but with all of them at the castle, it looked like he’d be doing it tonight.

Callan was searching for matches when Tava came back through the door. There were various things bundled in her arms.

“Sit,” she said, pushing the door shut behind her with her foot.

“The ?re—”

“I will get it,” she interrupted, setting the supplies down on the small end table. She pulled matches from the pocket of her robe, lighting one and crouching down to get the ?re going before she disappeared into the bedchamber. She emerged a moment later with a wet cloth, sitting down beside him and pulling his injured hand into her lap.

She was gently dabbing at the wound when Callan said, “You do not need to do this, Tava.”

“It keeps me busy,” she murmured, not looking up. “I was quite anxious with all of you gone this evening.”

“How is Drake?” he asked again. “And do not tell me ?ne. He was clearly not ?ne.”

“You are correct,” Tava replied, not missing a beat. “He is not ?ne.” She set the soiled cloth aside, reaching for a small glass jar and twisting off the top. “I remember overhearing Drake, and... Well, who I know to be my father, arguing more than once. Drake wanted to be trained to take over his position as the Commander of the King’s armies. He could not understand why our father would refuse, and he would become upset. Father would tell him he was not cut out for battle, that he was better suited to advise and move behind doors.” A cool salve touched his skin, and she carefully spread it over his palm and ?ngers. “He tried to keep us both in the background as much as possible. I was more content there than Drake. He thought he had something to prove to him, and it made their relationship strained.”

Tava set the jar aside, reaching for the bandages. She began wrapping each of his fingers. “His entire life he has thought he did not measure up to our father’s expectations. When in reality, it appears our father was trying to keep us hidden. That does not negate the fact that for his entire life, all he has heard is that he is not good enough. Seeing everything tonight—our father, the tombs of our real parents, the fighting and bloodshed he was always kept too sheltered from...” She sighed, reaching for another bandage to begin wrapping his palm. “No, he is not fine.”

She smoothed her ?ngers over the wrappings, and Callan ?exed his ?ngers slightly around the bandages. Busying herself with another cloth, she shifted a little closer so she could clean up his shoulder. She cleared her throat. “And you? How are you holding up?”

“I killed people tonight.”

Her hand paused its dabbing at the super?cial wound. When she slowly resumed the motion, she said tentatively, “You were ?ghting for your people. This is the beginning of a war. It is to be expected.”

“I do not think anyone ever expected me to ?ght in a war,” Callan answered.

“A real king would do so,” she answered softly. “A real king does not sit on a throne commanding armies from afar. Besides, is that not exactly what you have been training for?”

“Yes, but...” He pushed out a harsh breath. “Even with all the training, I thought I was prepared for that moment, but I was not.”

“You hesitated?” she asked, reaching for the jar of slave.

“That is just it. I didn’t hesitate,” he said. “Prince Azrael sort of talked me through it, but I did not hesitate. Not even a little bit. What does that say about me?”

“That you were adequately trained,” she answered without -hesitation.

“You make it sound simple.”

“Taking a life is anything but simple.” She wiped her ?ngers on a towel, reaching for a bandage.

“It is not simple, yet so many do it daily. Seemingly without thought. I do not understand how,” Callan said. “I feel... tainted. Like when I took those lives, I lost a piece of myself too.”

Tava was ?nishing taping the bandage in place, ?ngers smoothing over his skin. She was quiet for a long moment as she ?nished up before sitting back, ?ddling with the supplies and gathering them up. “I think that anyone responsible for other people has to make hard choices sometimes. I think they taint their souls so those they care for do not have to.”

She moved to stand, but Callan caught her hand. She hadn’t looked at him directly since the hallway, and he reached out, tipping her chin up. “Thank you, Tava.”

“It was nothing,” she said, cheeks turning pink once more. After all this time, she still blushed at the full weight of his attention.

“For the bandages, yes, but that is not what I meant,” he said. “Thank you for being a light when the darkness starts to close in.”

She cleared her throat, pulling away from him and pushing back to her feet. “I need to go check on Drake,” she said, gathering up the various supplies she had brought in with her. “Do you need anything else?”

What he needed was for her to stay here tonight. He would not sleep, even though he was utterly exhausted. The adrenaline rush of the battle had long-since worn off. And if he did sleep, he was certain the nightmares of that throne room would ?nd him and mingle with the events of this night. What he needed was her light to keep the night away and the darkness at bay.

Instead he shook his head, walking her to the door and pulling it open for her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before she left. He watched her until she had slipped inside her room. He quietly closed the door, moving to the small alcohol cart and pouring a measure of liquor. Then he sat back on the sofa before the ?re, watching the ?ames ?icker and listening to the logs hiss and crackle. The darkness already creeping back in.