Page 65 of Shadows and Flames (Twin Blades #2)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

TANA

“ H ello, Mamba.”

I’d been shaking, trembling with frustration and barely keeping confused tears at bay.

The air I breathed wouldn’t fill my lungs, no matter how many inhales I took.

From where I stood, unable to look at my cousin any longer without succumbing to the irritation and panic, I’d watched droves of people congregate at the epicenter of the art’s district.

At that voice, though, I flinched and turned.

I had not lived on the island, but I visited it plenty in my youth and during my initial training. I would recognize Rhaestran armor anywhere. And I definitely recognized that sarcastic voice anywhere.

My cousin, for once, was stunned into silence, which appeared to please Cera to no end. A thick braid ran over her shoulder and between her breasts, and gold beads sprinkled amongst the midnight strands.

She raised a brow, looking between my cousin and I, and drawled, “Is that how you greet your High Priestess?”

The provocation cleared the paralysis of my cousin’s shock, and she huffed, very much refusing to salute. I, however, followed the compulsion singing in the aether lingering in my veins, in my soul. After experiencing a world where its familiar song was silent, I’d never again take it for granted.

I bowed deeply, thumb and first two fingers at my brow in the traditional salute of Rhaea. Never mind the last time I’d seen the High Priestess of Rhaea, we’d traded insults over a meal in the bountiful gardens of the Temple.

Cera gave me quick, perfunctory salute back before snarling at my cousin, “Can’t bother to greet me after you fucked off without a word? I almost thought you dead, if not for the phantom thorn still poking in my side.”

Meline advanced a step, and the guards around Cera tensed, closing more tightly around her.

My cousin paid them no mind. “A better question would be why you are terrorizing Nethras and me with your presence. Though,” she waved a gloved hand, marks from Rhaea now hidden, “I am unsurprised the people of Rhaestras have grown tired of you.”

A serpentine smile grew on Cera’s face, flashing fang and the delicate gold clipped around them. The grin was vicious, delighted , and Cera shot past her guards, exiting their wall of protection. As infuriating as she could be, I could never forget her skill with the blades sheathed at her waist.

Cera crashed into Meline, hugging her fiercely, slapping hard claps on the backs of her shoulders, as if assuring she was whole. Real.

An understanding, my cousin had called it. The resolution of her last encounter with her longstanding rival, stretching back to their childhoods. The way they brought their brows together almost angrily, palms clasped against napes, spoke of more than the tentative truce I’d assumed they reached.

This was—this was sisterhood.

“What happened to you?” It came out as censure, but Cera hadn’t pulled away, and neither had Meline.

“I—too much.”

The High Priestess stared into my cousin’s eyes, unflinching, and in a tone devoid of any jokes or slights, she whispered, “You are changed.”

Meline had nothing but a nod in affirmation, and to that, Cera shifted them into another embrace, whispering assurances I couldn’t hear. And I watched my cousin’s shoulders relax with a speed I’d never been able to elicit. Meline clung to Cera with a fondness I’d never seen between them.

But of course, they shared the power of the first Goddess, didn’t they? A connection that, in many ways, surpassed that of blood.

My own path.

I surreptitiously swept the back of my hand under my eye.

Yes, I needed to contact my old coven. Maybe then, I would resettle here, where being a Lylithan was neither extraordinary nor dangerous.

The supplies for my craft were plenty. And I knew now how to enter the fighting rings, should I want to flex the training I was now so familiar with. As soon as Tomás was?—

“Wait—are—we could use your help,” I blurted, interrupting this… understanding.

Cera and Meline separated, and when they turned to face me, they did so with matching fluidity. Their gazes were cutting in a way I knew I could never replicate. Like they already knew how to eviscerate you, so you might as well get to it.

And their eyes. Meline’s were the color of rich chocolate, Cera’s were a mix of tawny and pale green, but the otherworldly gold flecks within both were like stars plucked from the sky.

I know, that if Meline were take her gloves off, her fingers would be the darker counterpart to Cera’s, which were marked with the delicate tattoos of the High Priestess.

Meline blinked, and the muscles in her jaw ticked. To Cera, she elaborated, “We have an injured Lylithan whose body does not respond to the best of healing efforts. It’s been over a month.”

Cera kept appraising me, and though I wasn’t a priestess of Rhaea, I felt…

humbled. Like a student before their teacher, admitting they were unable to perform simple mathematics.

Auntie Liana had been a healer, too. The healer who preceded the High Priestess before Cera.

Under Auntie Liana’s tutelage, I’d incorporated healing into my magic studies, learning as much as I could, save from entering the priestesshood.

And with lessons at the Temple whenever we visited my aunt’s homeland, I should have been able to save Tomás.

Eliminate the sickness from another world that still rotted inside of him.

But he was still dying.

“How long has he been ill?”

I winced, trying to find an adequate answer.

It was a simple question, an expected one in this line of work, but how did I explain the skip in time from that world into this one?

“Five weeks,” was the best I could provide.

“We are heading there now for me to resume, but he does not respond to any medicine I’ve brewed, nor is he physically able to fight the disease.

Pure aether has been the only reprieve, and a steady supply of mortal blood.

But he is getting worse,” I whispered at the end.

I’d not told Tomás or the others this explicitly, but, of course they knew.

At least he’d been able to limp along before.

But at some point on the sail to Nethras, his legs were unable to hold his weight.

Cera nodded once, lips pursed, and glanced in the direction of the distantly roaring crowd. Festivals and more popular performances were common, particularly in this area of the city, so I thought nothing of them.

“Can you keep him alive for the next few hours? Or is his state more urgent?”

I bristled, though the question wasn’t an insult. I thought. “Yes. I am going to him now.”

“Can you not come with us? The sooner the better,” Meline pressed.

And the old Cera made an appearance, though the beautifully embroidered lilac fabric draped over her shoulder certainly denoted her status, as did the wide, gold cuff on her arm.

“Well, I am late for a previous engagement.” She nodded toward where a few Nethrans were still heading.

Aside from the few openly gaping at Cera and her guards with interest.

Meline made the connection, brows raising. “Will you be dancing for spare coin? Spinning yarns on the street corner?”

Instead of shooting back another insult, Cera snorted.

“Feels a bit like that.” She waved her hand and rolled her eyes.

“I was asked by Roalld to speak to the city healers about improving their methods. However, he insisted on some celebration as this is the first time a High Priestess has visited Nethras in over a century.”

Of course, because I had been with the last High Priestess, accompanying my cousin and her family. Then, Isabella had been her protégé, my parents were both alive, and Mathieu had not yet shown his true nature.

“Well, when you decide to grace us with your presence, we’ll be at the lodging house on the corner of Fair and Fortune.

Maybe you can put your supposed healing prowess to use instead of parading yourself about town.

” The guards, though stoic, held shadows of unease in their expressions, eyes darting or widening slightly at the gall of someone talking to their High Priestess in such a way.

Cera simply snickered and shrugged. “It’s part of my duties to parade.

Thankfully, it’s not something required very often of me.

I will leave as soon as I can to help your friend.

” Without a goodbye, she marched forward, unconcerned about her guards following.

They immediately formed a circle around her, unencumbered by their armor and moving swiftly.

As they went, a full procession this time, I faintly heard an exasperated sigh from within the perimeter of gleaming armor.

Meline and I instead turned down Fortune Street, steps purposeful and with more than a wide gap of space between us. Neither of us glanced at the other.

“What if something’s happened?” Tomás croaked while I pressed my hands to his chest. The flare of purple light was so familiar, it shone in my vision even when my eyes were closed. The feel of Tomás’s clammy skin, I now always sensed on my fingertips.

The taste of it, the infection from the monster that bit him, was a rancid, sticky muck that clung to my tastebuds. Wherever I shifted the aether to remove it, more grew back and then some.

A bead of sweat began to run down my temple, and I twitched my head against my shoulder, wiping the moisture off on my collar.