Broken (5 page)

Once they got Kira settled into her bed, she started thrashing about, mumbling something about Toran. Tears streamed down her cheeks as if reliving her days in captivity. He’d made the mistake of thinking once they'd returned to Xantara her suffering would be over—that she would magically wake up and everything would be all right. He was sadly mistaken. It seemed it had just begun. “Ussay, help me roll her over to her side. I need to have a look at her back.”

Ussay hiked up her long dress and climbed onto the bed. She gently took Kira’s arm and pulled toward her as Octavion lifted. Kira resisted. She flailed her arms, hitting Ussay on the thigh. They let her slip back onto the bed.

“She is strong,” Ussay said.

“You have no idea.”

“Octavion,” Kira mumbled.

Octavion leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “I am here.”

“Hold me.” She wasn’t awake, but possibly remembering a time when he’d held her before. His arms ached to hold her again.

“Ussay, latch the door.” He kicked off his boots and went around to the other side of the bed. When Ussay turned to come back from locking the door, she paused and drew in a short swift breath.

“Octavion. It is not proper,” she said.

“You will say nothing of this. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course.” She lowered her eyes.

“Now help me with her.” He pulled back the covers and slid in beside Kira. As he leaned his back against the tapestry headboard, he rolled her over and pulled her in against his chest. She reacted by snuggling close and wrapping an arm around him.

“What shall I do?” Ussay asked.

“Can you clean the wounds by yourself?”

“Yes, but . . . her gown fastens in the front. I cannot get to it.”

He reached under the covers and withdrew his knife. “Then cut it off.” He flipped it in his hand so he held the blade and presented her with the handle.

“But . . . she will be
exposed
.” She looked at him like he’d committed an unforgivable sin.

“Ussay. I've already seen far more than will be exposed if you cut the back of her gown away. Slit the fabric to reveal her wounds. There is no need to remove the entire gown.”

“As you wish, Sire.” She hesitantly took the knife.

“Would you please stop doing that? You have been my friend your whole life. While we are alone, you do not need to be so formal.”

“I do not want to anger you . . . like before.”

“I am sorry for my temper, but do you not see what lies before you. I was concerned for her safety and to be told to forget about her and let her die was inconsiderate on your part. Perhaps a little understanding is in order.”

“I am sorry as well.” She carefully cut a slit in the gown near the neckline, put the knife down and tore the fabric, exposing Kira’s back down to her waist.

Octavion cringed at the sight of swollen welts and open wounds. Even though they’d cleansed and medicated them before and most were scabbed over and healing, two of the deeper gashes were red and swollen, oozing yellow puss. Cleaning them would be painful. He looked at Ussay. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yes.” She went to the bureau and retrieved a piece of rolled leather tied with a thin strip of black cord. She laid it on the bed, pulled the cord and unrolled it. Inside were several small divided sections, each holding a metal instrument. She chose one with a dull edge. “I do not want to cut her. This should work to remove the infection. Do you have a tight hold?”

“Yes, but before you begin, hold it in the flame of that candle.” He’d learned about bacteria in Kira’s world.

“You want me to
burn
her?”

“No, but the heat from the flame will sterilize it. Trust me. I will explain later.”

She followed his instructions and carefully removed the puss from the infected areas. She was meticulous about her work. With each scrape of the tool, Kira tensed. Her painful sighs soon gave way to pleas for Zerek to stop torturing her. When she cried out for Toran and began sobbing, Octavion told Ussay to stop. She’d had enough. The majority of the infection had been removed—the gods willing, the salve would do the rest.

“I am sorry it caused her so much pain,” Ussay said.

“You were very gentle. You should be a physician.”

She blushed. “You know it is not allowed. But I do enjoy assisting Gregor.” She cleaned the small tool and put it back in the pouch.

“Ussay, may I ask a great favor?”

She paused and looked at him. “Of course.”

“I know you have already devoted a great deal of your time seeing to Kira's needs, but I would like to make the position permanent. I need someone I can trust. Would you consider it?” Kira’s shivering body began to stir again. He pulled the covers up around her shoulders, gently brushed her hair from her face and pressed his lips against her warm forehead. She responded by curling one side of her mouth into a smile.

“I would be eternally grateful,” he added.

“I have been tending to my mother’s needs when I am not working with the children in the castle . . . but perhaps my aunt could take on the task. May I see to that before I commit?”

“Of course. It will be dark soon—go now and make the preparations. I will sit with Kira until you return.”

Ussay’s eyes widened. “Shall I send for someone to be with you?”

Octavion smiled. “I do not need a chaperone. Now go. And give instructions we are not to be disturbed.”

Ussay pulled the drapes closed and left a single candle burning on the table next to the bed. She stirred the fire and added three logs before leaving. He’d hoped the subdued light would bring a peaceful atmosphere so Kira could rest, but his efforts were in vain.

As the fever raged through her body, every detail of her torture came to light. Over and over he listened as she begged her captors to stop their sadistic behavior. Her words twisted his heart as if someone held it in their clenched fist. He’d dreamed of holding her in his arms again—how much joy it would bring for both of them. But this was far from what he’d imagined. His very soul ached from the pain she’d endured.

Normally, he kept his emotions in check, but not this time. The tears burned his eyes and washed over his face. He made no attempt to hold them back. Long after the wounds healed, she would still remember her captors’ faces, their ruthless taunting and most of all, the fact that he wasn't there to protect her. The love of his life was broken and because of his promise to King Ramla, he wouldn’t be around to help heal the emotional wounds that lingered. The thought nearly ripped in in two.

The fire and the candle burned out hours before any sign of light seeped through the cracks in the drapes. He’d held her in darkness, reluctant to move in fear of sparking another bout of terrifying memories. Her body felt cool against his. Her fever had finally ended.

When Ussay returned with her things, she pulled back the drapes, revealing sunshine and a day will-started, then ordered Octavion out of the room. She insisted he bathe.

“You will need to bathe her as well and change her linens.” He slid out from under Kira and made sure she rested comfortably.

“Building . . . a fire,” she mumbled.

He pulled the covers up around her shoulders and gently kissed her swollen cheek above where Shandira's blade gouged her flesh. “Yes, my love. I am building a fire.” Maybe the memories of them together would give her the comfort she needed.

“Please send for me when she wakes,” he instructed Ussay.

“Of course,” she said. “Perhaps you should eat something. You look pale.”

He glanced at Kira’s broken and beaten body. “I will eat . . . when she eats.” Then he left the room.

It had been seven days since Kira arrived in Xantara. Her physical wounds were healing nicely and the infected areas of her back were mending as well. Octavion spent every moment either by her side or in his lair trying to create something to bring her out of sleep. Nothing worked, and he hesitated giving her anything else for fear of making the situation worse.

Octavion worried constantly. Kira had gone too long without any kind of real nourishment and what little liquid they’d managed to get into her system hadn’t helped her condition. Each time she called out his name he’d go to her side and plead with the gods that she’d finally come back to him, but instead he was left with a sinking feeling in his heart. It didn’t help to know Lydia suffered as well. Though his father had managed to get her to take some liquids, she also remained unconscious and continued to show increased weekness.

Late on the evening of the eighth day, Octavion’s father came to Kira’s chambers and asked to have a word with him. It wasn’t the first time. The king had demanded several times to know the price he’d paid Ramla, but Octavion refused to tell him.

Reluctant to leave Kira’s side again, he agreed to speak with him in the hall. “What is it, Father?” Octavion leaned against the door. The past few days had taken its toll and exhaustion leached at his strength.

“I am concerned for you. This needs to stop,” Belesgar said.

Octavion shook his head in disgust. “And what do you suggest I do?”

The king pulled the journey stone from a black pouch and presented it to Octavion. “I want you to take her back.”
I want you to take both of them back.

“What? Are you mad?”

“Hear me out, son. You’ve told me of the advanced medicine in Kira’s world. Perhaps if you took her there, they would be able to bring her out of this.”
Your sister's condition has not changed. It may rid her of the evil that has taken her from us.

The idea wasn’t new to him. He’d run through every possible scenario the past few days and taking Kira back to her world was one of them. Octavion shook his head. “With Kira’s injuries, there would be questions, and rumors would spread of her torture. They have communication there—newspapers and television—things you do not understand. Shandira and her men would find her. It is how they learned she possessed the Crystor. I will not take that chance. And as far as Ly—”
Lydia. Her blood is different than a human's. They would know she is not of their world.
He put his hands up and refused to take the journey stone from his father.

“You would rather watch her suffer?”
Watch
them
die
? Belesgar slipped the stone back in the pouch. “Perhaps a few more days of this will convince you. What shall you do with her when your cravings increase? Have you given that any thought?”

“Of course I have. I still have a few days. If she is not awake by then . . . I will find a way to keep her safe.” Octavion reached for the door handle, then stopped when it pushed open from the other side.

“Excuse me, Your Excellency,” Ussay said as she poked her head through the small opening.

“You dare interrupt our conversation?” the king roared.

“Father, our conversation is
over.
” Octavion turned to Ussay. “What is it?”

She smiled. “I believe she is waking.”

He looked over her shoulder to see Kira lying on the bed, not moving. “Are you certain?” He swung the door open and brushed past her. “Why is she on her back? I gave you instructions to keep her on her side.” He sat on the bed.

“She did that on her own. I went to move her and she said ‘no’. So I asked her if she wanted to stay on her back and she nodded. She has never responded to my questions before.”

He lifted her hand and squeezed it tight. “Kira.” But she gave no response. “Kira. Can you hear me?”

She moaned and her fingers twitched in his hand.

“Kira. You need to wake up.”

She moaned again and mumbled, “Octavion?” She swallowed, her dry throat making a clicking sound.

“I am right here. Can you open your eyes? I need to see your eyes, Kira.” His racing heart leapt into his throat.
Please wake up, please.

Slowly her eyelids lifted, but then she clamped them shut and shook her head. “They hurt . . . I can’t.” She swallowed again. “I’m thirsty.”

“Ussay, get her some water—hurry.”

Ussay stepped to the bedside table and poured from a pitcher into a small cup. She handed it to him with shaky hands. A tear streamed down her face.

Octavion smiled up at her. “She is awake.” Fragile hope and joy roared through him. He gently lifted Kira’s head and supported it while she took a swallow of the water.

“Good girl. Take a little more,” he coaxed.

She gulped another mouthful before her body relaxed against the covers.

“Do not go back to sleep.” He handed the cup to Ussay, then leaned in and whispered in Kira’s ear. “Kira, my love . . . if you open your eyes, I will let you cuddle.” He straightened enough to see her face.

She smiled.

“Promise?” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I promise.”

She took in a staggered breath. Her eyelids slowly tested the light, squinting and blinking. “Why is it so . . . dark?”

It was late evening but there was still plenty of light in the room and the drapes were wide open. When she finally opened her eyes wide enough so Octavion could see them, his heart sank. Her beautiful green eyes—the same ones that sparkled like cut emeralds—were dark and lifeless.