Vulture (9 page)

10 - The Watchtower

Krishani rounded the corner and found the hall emptier than it had been before his confrontation with Elwen. A single flute and drum carried tunes lazily through the air as he crossed the floor, looking for Kaliel. He passed the drab table and his stomach growled at him. He hadn’t eaten much since the battle. Mushy orange and yellow vegetables glared at him, haphazardly strewn across silver platters. He wasn’t stupid enough to try them twice. All the meat had been stripped to the bones and there wasn’t any bread or mead left. He grimaced and left it, noticing Kaliel in the corner, Pux passed out on her shoulder. Her face brightened when she saw him and it made his heart ache with an instinctual longing. He glanced at the villagers but they were drunk. They whirled about the dance floor singing incoherently to the music. He wished Elwen would have had the sense to send them to their homes, but he didn’t want to talk to Elwen again.

He approached Kaliel and slid down beside her, interlocking his hand in hers. The traditions of Terra were foreign to him, and no matter his birthright, he wasn’t going to convert to their ways to placate the villagers. He’d be discreet, but it felt nice that for once he didn’t feel guilty about holding her hand in public. She squeezed his tighter and he ran his thumb along her palm and felt her shiver under him.

“I have good news,” she said while he continued tracing the indents in her palm with his thumb.

“What’s that?” Krishani asked. He felt better being near her, all the worry falling off his shoulders. He could do anything as long as he could be hers … fight wars, face Vultures, even face himself. As long as she loved him he would be strong enough to protect her.

“Klavotesi has agreed to teach me,” she said.

Krishani grinned. “Lessons.”

Kaliel hummed. “It feels like old times,” she said, unable to contain her glee. Krishani brought their interlocked hands to his lips and brushed them along the back of her hand. Her skin was smooth and pale, but it had tiny scars along the pores that looked like they came from rose bushes or brambles. He ignored them because they weren’t a part of her life, only part of something he couldn’t entirely explain.

“I hope he makes you do focus training,” he whispered as he dropped their hands into her lap.

Kaliel laughed and he loved the sound of it. “You’d love that wouldn’t you?” The corners of her mouth turned down. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t help.” She pouted.

Krishani let his gaze rake over her, the want in him too strong to ignore. “I’d do it for you if I could.”

She turned her attention to the villagers. “Is it night yet? I’m so tired and Pux is already asleep.”

Krishani nodded and unlocked their hands. He leaned forward and glanced at Pux who was resting on Kaliel’s other shoulder. “We should move him.”

“Where does he usually sleep?” Kaliel asked. “I hope Elwen gave him a bigger room.” She carefully raised her arm and shrugged Pux off her. He flinched as she set his head on the stone. He didn’t wake, just curled his animals legs towards himself creating a makeshift turtle shell.

“I think he’ll be fine here. I don’t know where he sleeps.” He didn’t want to tell her that the one night he spent in the castle, Pux slept with the pigs. He stood, remembering the watchtower. “We should go.” He extended his hand and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. He couldn’t help it; she smelled good. The dress he brought from Avristar was scented faintly with honeysuckle and lavender. She glanced at Pux and her forest green eyes streaked with uncertainty.

“Are you sure we should leave him?”

Krishani nodded. He wanted to get her away from the castle, the other villagers. Of the things he was thankful for, Talina giving him the watchtower was top of his list. “Come on, I have something to show you,” he said impatiently. He tugged on her hand and she followed reluctantly. He led her through the open doors and down the steps. They went to round the castle when she stopped short and looked at the sky. She turned and twirled and dropped his hand, spreading her arms wide as she tilted her head back, parallel with the sky.

“Even the sky is different; I can’t find the Phoenix.”

Krishani followed her gaze but he hadn’t taken the time to notice. Usually when he looked at sky it was because Vultures were descending on him and he needed to react fast to whatever was on the ground.

“Someone once told me beauty hides in plain sight on Terra,” Krishani said, quoting Shimma. He didn’t even know why he would repeat what she said, but it sounded appropriate. Kaliel smiled and put her hand in his. Familiar tingles ran up his spine.

“What did you want to show me?”

Krishani said nothing as he pulled her down the path past the trees and rows of cabins making up the majority of the village. He stopped near the steps to the watchtower and nodded up to it. Kaliel raised an eyebrow as Krishani went up before her, keeping her hand in his as he stepped onto the wide balcony. She wrenched her hands out of his and rubbed her shoulders. It was windy up there, gusts whipping black strands around her face as she looked out at the village. The watchtower stretched farther out than Krishani realized and included more functional structures than the ones he saw off the main road. He didn’t know what they were all for, but he liked the look of the little brown cabins with their triangular roofs and log sidings. It was encouraging to feel like he was in a place he belonged. If he closed his eyes he could imagine that this town was like Hawklin, nestled in the bounds of Orlondir, a part of Avristar. Kaliel’s hand pressed into his and he looked at her only to see her shining eyes.

“It’s pretty,” she said.

“It’s ours,” Krishani breathed. She furrowed her brow and glanced at the village. He let out a short laugh. “Oh, not the village. I meant the cabin.” He jerked his head towards the door. “I told Elwen I didn’t want to stay in that stuffy room anymore.”

Kaliel’s expression was a challenge. He pulled her to the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Outlines of a large bed lingered out of the corner of his eye. There was a desk in the corner, a wicker chair in the other.

“You don’t like castles either.” Kaliel broke eye contact and glanced around the dark room. Krishani felt uncomfortable. He closed the door and leaned against it, his heart thudding. He was really alone with her–no interruptions, no doom surrounding them. They had all the time in the world. He thought back to what Elwen had said about courting and marrying her, and while the latter made him feel like he was made of sunlight, waiting was impossible. He already waited, almost ripped himself apart because he thought he’d never see her again. Getting between him and her was like trying to stop an avalanche.

For once he wasn’t afraid of her seeing the disease on his hand, it was too dark now. After the battle it streaked across him like paint, forever marking him with the threat. The Vultures would always be his downfall. She traced the contours of his face with her eyes and he knew the distance between them was too much. He broke her gaze and moved to the bureau, snapping his fingers and setting a candle ablaze. He smirked at the trick and turned to her. She sat on the edge of the bed nervously looking around the empty cabin.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, sitting next to her. He put his infected hand in hers and pressed his lips to her shoulder.

She shook her head, her green eyes unreadable. “I like the forests,” she admitted as she stood and paced to the other end of the cabin. Krishani followed and slid his arms around her waist, drawing her against him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pressing his mouth to her ear. He couldn’t be so close to her, heat rushing through him, without wanting everything he missed. Her cheeks warmed, blood rushing to the tips of her ears. He smiled at the subtlety.

“I’m nervous,” she mumbled.

“Why?”

She turned in his arms and brushed her fingers against his hips. He stifled the urge to cover her mouth with his and waited for her to answer.

“Everything feels different in this body. When you touch me … it’s not the same.” She looped her arms around his neck, caressing the base of his head with the tips of her fingers and threading them into his hair. He lowered his lips so they hovered above hers.

“Does it feel different when I do this?” He kissed her, vigilant, supine, measuring her reaction. Her lips parted and he tasted honey on her as he stepped back involuntarily at the pressure. His lips broke off hers for a moment and she stared at him, a pulse in her green eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered, but her eyes looked starved.

He frowned. “Is that a good thing?” Touching her was like every nerve ending in his body standing on end, burning down to the embers until nothing but a satisfied lull ensnared him in bliss. Reaching for him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, nestling her cheek in his shoulder. His fingers trailed down her arms, and she shuddered and shifted, her eyes on him. She walked him to the bed and he tripped, landing unsteadily. Her mouth hovered over his and he stifled the recalcitrant urge to pull her down. Her eyes shifted, the amethyst curling in her irises catching him off guard. They were like their own orbs of storms, crackling with white violet from the pupils outwards. He had never seen her eyes like that before.

Every thought in his mind left as she unhooked her arms from his neck and ran them down his shirt. His pulse pounded in his ears, every part of him coming alive at the slight sensation of her touch. She reached the hem of his tunic and ran her hands underneath it. His fingers splayed on the bed to brace himself. He wanted to tangle his hands in the laces of her green dress, rip the fabric off her form. She stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. Tingles ran down his thighs as the tips of her fingers grazed along his breeches. He took an involuntarily breath in as her fingers traced his abs. It burned in a way that was so good. She pushed the tunic over his head and dropped it on the floor before climbing onto his lap and running her hands up his chest. She stopped when her fingers traced the contour of his lips. He wanted to taste her so badly he could barely think at all. She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and dropped her mouth to his ear.

“I missed making you want me,” she whispered, taking his earlobe between her lips. “It’s never been this intense. Every time I touch you I want more.”

He couldn’t speak. Pitching forward he cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to him, his lips exploring hers with a rough hunger he had denied for moons. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, locking it in a vice grip until she moaned. He reached for the knot of fabric at the back of her neck and untied it hastily. She grated her hips against him and he gasped, unable to stave off his desire. He pressed his forehead to her chest and his lips clamped on her nipple as he used his strength to force her up. He wanted her naked and underneath him. She followed his lead, the dress pooling at her ankles. Instead of doing anything he expected, she wrapped her legs around him and he pivoted, falling on top of her as he hit the bed, burying himself inside her. She had her hands everywhere on his body and he had his everywhere on hers.

Being with her made him lose track of time, of stars, of everything except the energy surrounding them. She wasn’t like anyone he had ever known. She was an all consuming need, an unyielding demand, a fiery necessity. Love like this paled everything Across the Stars. It was a love so powerful he would destroy everything in his path to keep it, protect it, and make sure it lasted forever.

• • •

Krishani glanced at the ceiling as Kaliel nestled herself in the crook of his arm, her body pressed against the length of his. His heart thrummed loudly, alive with passion. He stroked her hair idly, warmth washing through him like a summer day. She traced patterns on his chest with her fingertips and he tensed. He sighed, guilt lancing through him. “I’m sorry I was late,” he began.

He felt her shoulders contract as she flattened her hand on his stomach. “Don’t—it wasn’t your fault.”

He avoided the topic for so long he didn’t know how to explain what he felt anymore. The memory of being on the ground, fighting with Istar moments before the mountain exploded was excruciating. He’d never get over it, put it behind him and move on. It would always be a constant reminder that while they didn’t die, she burned, and it was just as bad as anything that had happened before that. Worse than anything the prophecy in her journal warned about. He couldn’t bear to look at it again, the symbols etched on his skull.

“You were alone,” he whispered gently, pulling his stomach muscles taut. He tried not to feel heavy, but he couldn’t help it.

She let out an exasperated breath. “You lived, and that’s all that matters.”

“You didn’t.”

She furrowed her brow and traces of her tears fell on his shoulder. He sighed and ran his hand along her bare back in circles trying to comfort her. “I don’t blame you,” she choked.

“What happened on the mountain?” His voice came out haggard. He cleared his throat and tried to stay calm. It didn’t work, he wanted to jump off the bed and pace in a circle, but that would mean not being in her arms, and that wouldn’t help him stave off the anxiety.

“What happened after the mountain exploded?”

Krishani stopped mid-caress. He hadn’t expected her to ask him what he did after she died. It was a blur in his mind. He reacted, did the only thing he could think of doing. He stifled a breath as she propped herself on one elbow, her gaze knifing into him. He was defeated and couldn’t ward off telling her forever. He cleared his throat and met her gaze with a guilty expression.

“Avristar wanted to sentence me to death or exile.” She gripped him tighter, shock cascading over her features. He regretted the truth but he had to tell her something, if not everything.

“Mallorn said that we should leave before I faced the Gatekeeper. We came here to find Elwen and ask him about my duty as the Ferryman.” He almost choked on the word Ferryman. His heart raced and not in a good way. Spasms of panic crawled up his arms; threatening to crush his insides with the same blinding pain he had known when she had been dead.