Page 108 of Court of Talons
I could get used to that.
“And, ah…” I clear my throat. “The banded warrior, Caleb? Is he somewhere close?”
“The Lord Protector knew you would ask.” The same guard nods. “But he’s still in the throes of the delirium caused by his banding. He’s being watched over.”
I wince, remembering my own reaction to the band, the days of queasy pain that followed. Silently, I gesture to the guard to take me to Fortiss. Later, when he’s rested, I’ll visit Caleb. We turn down the staircase, the unexpected height of the step sending a jolt of pain through my body. There’s still so much healing to be done…in every corner of the Protectorate.
We find Fortiss in Rihad’s inner chambers, with the fire roaring behind him. He sits, alone, at a table he’s pulled into position in front of Rihad’s grand throne. Before him on the table rests Merritt’s shattered gray arrow. I look around the room, unable to keep from shuddering. It’s been mere days since I last stood in this room, betrayed by my father, sentenced to death by Rihad, rejected by both blood and all that I believed to be honorable in this world.
Fortiss looks up as I approach, and the guards bow to him and leave the room to take up their positions with the other men stationed outside the doors. Fortiss smiles wearily as he watches them go, then turns his gaze to me.
“My apologies, Warrior Talia,” he says stiffly. “The first of so many apologies I owe you. It’s you who should be sitting here, not me.”
I can’t help it, I laugh, then immediately regret the act as my ribs protest. I wince, pressing a hand to my waist. “I have no desire for that seat,” I say honestly. “And you…oh, Fortiss. You didn’t know.”
“I should have known.” Fortiss’s words are bleak, his face suddenly haggard as our eyes meet. The guilt of so much death weighs heavily upon him, and nothing I can say will change that. It’s his path and whatever there was—is—or might ever be between us, it’s too early to know.
But I want to know, I realize. My heart leaps to be so close to him, my fingers tremble with the desire to drift through his hair, along his skin. And deep beneath the sorrow shimmering in his eyes, I think I see an answering fire. I hope I do.
I hold his gaze, sharing his path, his pain with him. It’s all I can do, now. But I can do that much. He doesn’t break our contact for a long moment, and I pour all the strength I still have into him, knowing that there will always be more.
“You’re feeling all right?” I murmur. “After your banding?”
A quick smile brightens his face, erasing yet more of the pain. “I am. It was so long in coming and felt so natural, I recovered quickly. Being thrust into battle before my band had even cooled helped as well, strangely enough. But here.” He drops his gaze once more to the book in front of him. “Come closer, if you would. I…you should see this.”
I stride across the grand room, struck by how different it seems without Rihad in it. Brighter, lighter. A place of hope, not despair. I stop in front of Fortiss, and he points to the open book. “I can’t read it.”
I frown and lean close. The book is opened to a page inked with an elaborate, scroll-like lettering, a language I have neverseen. I reach out and touch the page and lift it to see the next—more lettering, more words, all equally indecipherable.
“Is the whole book like this?”
“Yes. And three more besides. I began to sound out the words, but the fire leapt in the grate.” He gestures to the roaring fire behind Rihad’s throne. “I thought I should wait until I understood it more completely.”
“The fire.” My eyes widen as I take in the flames now crackling cheerfully. I’ve seen what’s emerged from that fire. “Ah…” I hedge. “Have you spoken to the council about it?”
“They claim no knowledge, but I suspect some of them are lying. It’ll take time to figure out who and how.”
I nod, then finally move myself to speak. “I don’t know these words, Fortiss. But I know what they summon. And if you knew that, perhaps you can work backward to what the words say?”
“But how…” He listens, clearly horrified, as I explain what I saw in this room the first night he’d found me in a servant’s clothes.
“That wasyouwho jumped?” His scowl deepens. “Off the lookout perch?”
“It’s not like I had much choice.” I tap the book. “But the thing that Rihad was talking to—it was darkness cloaked in fire, a lizard coiling around itself, snakes writhing at its feet. It seemed—quite large. Rihad had to stand back and crane his head far back to see it all.”
Fortiss stares at me, his face now quite pale. “Wait here.”
He pushes away from the table, then strides over to the door to summon the guard. The man leaves at a run, returning with another book. Fortiss opens it to a full-color illuminated page, and I flinch back with a grimace.
“Is that what you saw?” he prompts.
I nod again, staring at the gruesome image, fire and shadows and twisting snakes. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Fortiss says, turning the book back toward himself. He pages forward. “My father kept these books, handed down over the generations, a full and complete record of the battles of the Western Realms. The Imperial soldiers called these things the Kot’lok—but no one knew their true names.”
“Evil,” I translate the ancient word, staring at the images.
“Evil from the Western Realms. And there’s more.” Fortiss nudges the great book. “Councilor Miriam has come to me, with enough evidence to convict Rihad of treason a dozen times over—evidence which, she says, she was holding against a visit from the Imperium that never came. She had decided she couldn’t do anything to risk that evidence.” He grimaces. “Not even try to save you.”