Chapter Nine

Khyven

Khyven’s breathing sped up at the sight of her. He felt invigorated, like a little lightning bolt had hit him. She stood in the doorway in the tight black clothes she always wore now with only her face, hands, and her pale ankles showing above her slipper-like shoes. Such attire was designed to hide a person, the garb of thieves and cutthroats. Before, Lorelle’s quiet way of walking had seemed unintentional, like she couldn’t help being graceful and therefore quiet. Now it seemed intentional, like she was trying to sneak about.

Dirt smudges marked her face and hands, but her golden hair looked newly washed. It always did, as though dirt couldn’t cling to the magical hair of a Luminent.

She glanced at each of them in turn, then she came in and took a seat next to Slayter, which was as far from Khyven as it was possible to be and still be at the table. This was the kind of thing she did now. It was like she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him, could barely tolerate his presence. He swallowed hard.

Vohn looked uncomfortable. “Well, we were discussing…” he began, but faltered.

Slayter smiled. “We were talking about you. We wanted to know where you were.”

“You were talking about how to save me,” she said.

“You were listening at the door?” Khyven asked. Annoyance bubbled up inside him. “You could have come in. We’re not hiding anything.”

Lorelle took one look at Vohn’s downcast face, then back at Khyven. “Clearly not.”

“Where have you been?” Khyven asked.

“Do I report to you now, Khyven the Unkillable?” Her eyes had dark shadows underneath them, like she hadn’t slept in days.

“Lorelle, we’re your friends. We’re trying to help you—”

“Good,” she interrupted. “Where is Rhenn? Have you found her?”

“We’re trying.”

“And failing,” she said. “Two weeks, and we still have nothing.”

Khyven opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“We are doing things,” Vohn said, his voice calm now that he was talking to someone other than Slayter. “Slayter has been scouring the histories for the last known locations of Plunnoi.”

Lorelle’s searing gaze stayed on Khyven. It was like she didn’t want to look at the other two, like she blamed him for Rhenn’s disappearance.

“What would you have us do?” Khyven asked.

“Do? Maybe you could have told us she’d be attacked.”

“What?”

“You brought Nhevaz down upon us,” she accused.

Vohn’s eyes widened, and he looked at Lorelle as though she’d said the moon was purple. Slayter’s smile faded, and his brows came together.

“He was unconscious,” Vohn said quietly.

“Nhevaz’s message was for you,” Lorelle said to Khyven, still ignoring Vohn. She blinked, as though she was looking at a light that was too bright. She clenched and unclenched her fists like she couldn’t stand to be in her own skin. “He took Rhenn and gave you a message.”

After they’d found Lorelle and undone the spell that had frozen her, she’d told them about Nhevaz’s final cryptic words: “He lived, and that means things will move quickly now.”

“We don’t know that was about Khyven,” Vohn said. “It’s only speculation. Why would he say that to—”

“Who cares why!” She stood up, knocking the chair over. “If Khyven had died, Nhevaz wouldn’t have come for Rhenn!”

“Maybe I should have died, then,” Khyven said softly.

She lifted her chin and he saw tears in her eyes. She turned away, like she wanted to banish them all from the room by simply not looking at them. One fist clenched at her side and the other moved up to push at her chest, massaging it like it was bruised.

She turned back and let out a strained breath. “I didn’t mean that,” she whispered, swallowing hard. “I-I don’t mean that, Khyven.”

She stumbled back, disoriented, looking clumsy for the first time Khyven had ever seen.

He came around the table, wanting to help her, to hold her in his arms, but Vohn was already there steadying her.

“It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “It’s going to be all right.”

She glanced at Khyven, sorrow in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if she was about to apologize, but then turned her head away.

“Please. Sit down,” Vohn said softly.

“No,” she said. “No, I—You don’t need me here. I can’t help you here. I’ll… go see about Shalure. She needs… There are herbs that can counter the shkazat.”

She glided to the door without another word and left.

“How did she know about Shalure?” Khyven turned to Vohn.

“I think maybe she’s watching us. Hiding. Listening in on our conversations,” Slayter said, his head cocked to the side like he was contemplating a particularly engaging puzzle. “Her clothes are made exactly for that.”

Khyven didn’t want to say his next thoughts, didn’t want to acknowledge them, but he said them anyway.

“I think you’re right,” he said to Slayter, “about the soul-bond. The way she’s acting… I think you may be right.”

“Why?” Vohn asked. “Because she’s angry?”

“Because she’s in pain,” Khyven said. “Physical pain.”

Vohn glanced at Slayter in surprise, then back at Khyven. “She is?”

“I’ve been injured enough to know when someone’s trying to hide a wound. Did you see how she pressed her hand to her chest? How she could barely sit still?”

“Ah,” Slayter murmured.

“If we’re going to help her, we have to find this person she’s bonded with,” Khyven said.

“We do?”

“I want to know who it is.”

“What exactly will that accomplish?” Vohn asked.

Khyven felt his cheeks grow warm when he realized he didn’t have a good answer to that. He wanted to know because…

Because it wasn’t him. Because Lorelle had chosen a Human to bond with and it wasn’t him.

“If we’re going to find out how to reverse this thing she has done to herself,” he said, “we have to start somewhere.”

Vohn and Slayter exchanged a glance, and were silent for a long moment.

“How are we going to do that?” Vohn finally asked. “Obviously none of us can follow her.”

“I’ll do it,” Khyven said.

Vohn blinked. “Khyven…”

“What?”

“You’re about as stealthy as a bull.”

“Then I’ll get better at it.”

Vohn and Slayter exchanged another glance, but Khyven didn’t care. And he wasn’t going to wait. He turned and left the room.