Bound by Blood and Sand (13 page)

“I'm fine,” he assured Shirrad, though his voice came out thin and shaky. He made his way back to the door and stood in the entrance, careful to block the view in case Lady Shirrad leaned in. “Something happened in here. I need…” He glanced back at the sleeping mat, then decided. “There's a Closest boy—the groundskeeper's brother.”

“Tal?” Shirrad asked, surprised. “What—”

“Find him and bring him here. Quickly,” Elan ordered.

Lady Shirrad hesitated, mouth opening as if she wanted to object. But she snapped it closed and nodded, turned away, and hurried down the hall. Elan turned back to Jae.

She didn't look injured, and the bedroll was still mostly made, though the thick blankets covering the mat had been pulled loose. Jae lay on top of them. He glanced around until he saw her clothing among the debris on the floor.

Jae was naked, and Rannith was dead.

He shuddered, carefully pulled the top blanket out from under Jae, and laid it over her. He sat down, stared at the rubble, and tried to think. He didn't know how she'd used magic despite his order, but what had happened was easy enough to guess.

She'd have to be held responsible for all of this, but that didn't feel quite right somehow. Being ordered onto someone's sleeping mat wasn't the same as being ordered to work in the kitchen or a field. Elan couldn't imagine what it was like for the Closest, forced to obey absolutely every order; he'd never even thought about it. If it had been him lying there, if he hadn't wanted Rannith…

Still, she'd killed him, and Elan didn't even know yet if anyone else had been hurt. That couldn't be allowed; he'd have to use the Curse to do something about it. Except that the Curse shouldn't have let Jae do this in the first place. It shouldn't have let her disobey him, let alone kill anyone, and if she could do that, then maybe she could do anything. If that was true, then no matter what Elan ordered, they'd all be at her mercy.

He glanced back at the rubble, at Rannith's remains, unsure if Jae even possessed mercy. Maybe she hadn't intended to kill Rannith, but then again, maybe she had. Elan had never thought about that, either, but the Closest probably weren't happy about their lot. He'd never heard of them complaining, but how could they? Even if they wanted to object, the Closest could only ever bite their tongues and do as they were told. He'd never even met one of them until coming to Aredann.

Not that it mattered. Whether she'd meant to kill Rannith or not, Jae was dangerous. If she'd kept the quake going longer, she could have shaken Aredann to the ground, taken it apart brick by brick. If the Curse couldn't control her fully, there had to be another way.

“Highest?”

He looked at the open door. Lady Shirrad was back, with Jae's brother—Tal, Shirrad had said—and he was staring at Jae on the sleeping mat. Elan stood and glanced at Tal for a moment, then back at Jae.

“Lady, we have much to discuss,” he said.

“Is…is Lord Rannith in there?” she asked, edging her way in carefully, but Elan hurried to meet her and block her view.

“He's dead,” Elan said, then looked at Tal. “Was this the first time he ordered Jae to his room?”

“No, Highest,” Tal said softly, still studying Jae's form.

“Do you think she'd have killed him, if she ever had the chance?”

“Lord Elan—” Shirrad started, but Tal interrupted her, compelled to answer.

“Yes, Highest.”

“Lord Elan, surely you don't think— Jae couldn't have had anything to do with…could she?”

He nodded, and Shirrad gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. Before she could say anything else, Elan ordered Tal, “Take Jae to my room. Carefully.”

Tal made his way to the sleeping mat. He picked Jae up gently. She didn't stir at all. He kept the blanket wrapped around her as he found a way to hold her. They were about the same size—she was tall for a woman, but lithe and thin—and he carried her out.

Elan followed, Lady Shirrad at his side. Jae still didn't wake as they moved, but that was for the best. Elan watched Tal carefully, the way he cradled her, the way he shifted to keep her as steady as possible, even when he had to climb through rubble in the halls. Jae was his sister, after all, and it was obvious that he worried about her, that he loved her.

For the first time, Elan wondered what life was really like for the Closest. To care and worry and want to help—but to be at everyone else's mercy, unable to even speak. Elan would do anything for his own sister. Surely Jae and Tal wouldn't do any less for each other, if the Curse allowed them. But he
couldn't
imagine what it would be like, not really, to be cursed, to have to stand by and watch, and never be able to help at all.

Jae woke, feeling as light as steam. The Curse had been a weight on her body her whole life; every morning had meant waking to lingering pain and exhaustion. Waking to dread settling over her like a blanket as she thought about the long day and excruciating heat in front of her. Now, instead of her pulse echoing with the Curse, all she woke to was sunlight streaming in through curtains. She braced herself as she pushed up onto her elbows, but there was no familiar pounding. No Curse dragging her down. There was no pain.

Everything in the room seemed to be dimly lit from within, shining with energy, so bright and inviting that it took her a few moments to realize she was in Elan's chambers. They were a wreck: overturned furniture, art fallen from the walls, bricks strewn across the floor, with a layer of dust coating it all. She could make out footprints in it, heavy steps treading from the door to the sleeping mat, where they grew too messy to follow, and then back to the door.

Someone had carried her in. Carried her in, and dressed her, because her last clear memory was of Rannith on the mat, and she'd been nude. Now she was wearing a long, loose shirt and her underclothes. The shirt was deep green, more vivid than anything anyone at Aredann owned. Elan's, then, the cleanest and softest thing she'd ever worn.

She took a deep breath and sneezed at the dust, then almost laughed. Everything came back to her in an onslaught of memories, a rush of feelings more than images. She'd fought off the Curse, she'd beaten it, and then Rannith…

Her lips curled up into an unkind smile. She was free now—and that meant free to use her magic however she chose. No one could stop her, not even Elan, and she would
never
allow anyone to hurt her again.

The door opened, sliding until it hit a small pile of rubble. Tal walked in, saw her sitting, and hurried to her side.

“You're awake,” he breathed.

“I am. And I'm— Tal, I'm
free.
” She grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit on the edge of the mat. “I fought against the Curse, and I
won.
And it feels like—”

“Jae—”

“I feel so
light.
I can do anything,” she said, the energy around her shining and enticing. “The magic is everywhere. I can see it so much more clearly now. I can feel it, and once I'm better at using it, I'll free you, too—”

“Jae.”
He squeezed her hand, and when she fell silent, he continued, “You killed Rannith.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I did.”

He stared at her, as if she could deny it even if she wanted to—but the Curse didn't control her anymore. She
could
lie if she wanted to, but why would she bother lying about Rannith? She wasn't sorry, and it was no more than Rannith had deserved. She smiled again, until she saw Tal's expression. No longer shocked, just frowning.

“You can't blame me,” she said.

“I…” He trailed off, pulled his hand away from hers. The Curse still controlled
him.
She could see what was happening, had felt it too many times herself. She hadn't asked him a question, so he wasn't compelled to speak, but he was trying to find a way to shape the truth in his response anyway. “I don't blame you. But, Jae, you
killed
someone.”

“I'm not sorry,” she said. That truth was easy, even without the Curse to force it. “He raped me. He was trying to rape me again.”

“I know,” Tal said, and his hand was back, a tether binding them together. “I understand. It's just…you
destroyed
him. His entire body was broken, and there…there was so much blood.”

“Good.”

“Good?”
he echoed, the incredulity turning it into a question.

“He deserved that, and—and more. When I find a way to free you, you'll understand. The way Lady Shirrad treats you is—”

“But I don't want to kill her!” His voice hadn't risen above its usual hushed tone, but the words were harsher, carved from stone and left unsmoothed. “She's not…She uses me, and I use her.” Tal shook his head. “I'd find another way if I could, but I wouldn't kill her.”

“Then I won't,” Jae agreed quickly. “But I won't let her touch you again. Or else…”

“Or else what?”

That question had to be on purpose. He stared at her, and she started to answer automatically, but there was no push from the Curse to force her. She had nothing to say, no
or else
to give him, and he sighed.

“You nearly killed her anyway. Look around.” He gestured with his free hand. “The whole estate is like this. We're repairing the damage, but it's a mess. And when the bricks fell, people got hurt. It's lucky no one else died.”

“I didn't want to kill anyone else,” she said. “I just wanted him to stop touching me.”

“I know,” Tal said, and he squeezed her hand. The Curse let him say it, so it couldn't be a lie. Somehow, it didn't make her feel any better. “I know, but you could have killed all of us.”

“I wasn't trying to—”

“But you could have. You have all this power.” His voice was back to normal, calm and kind. “I can't even imagine it. And now there's nothing to stop you from using it. But the very first thing you did was kill someone, and—and really
look
at all of this.” He gestured around again. “Did you mean to do so much damage? Did you have any control at all?”

“You don't understand!” She pulled her hand free and scrambled away, stunned to have him turn questions on her, grateful that there was no Curse compulsion to answer. Because he was right, she
had
killed Rannith, and she wasn't sorry. She never would be. She just hated the way Tal was watching her, looking at her with that sad frown, dancing around whatever he wanted to say. As if he was afraid of her. As if she was one of
them,
as if she would ever hurt him.

She wouldn't. But the room
was
in ruins, the beautiful designs in the walls missing pieces, cracked and marred. They'd be all but impossible to repair. She
hadn't
meant to do that. She hadn't thought at all about the house outside Rannith's room, or the people in it. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone but Rannith, but she could have—she could have hurt Tal.

Her throat burned, and she braced herself, squeezed her eyes shut. She'd spent the last seventeen years careful not to cry, to never let anyone except Tal see that she was hurt, but with Tal staring at her like this…

A hot tear splashed down onto her cheek, and he sighed, made a soothing
shhh
noise. He reached for her, and she let him, let him hold her and stroke her back.

“Oh, Jae. I didn't mean to…It's not like that at all. I know why you did it, and I…I wouldn't have asked you not to. It's just that you scared me.”

She clutched his shoulders and mumbled against his skin, “I'd never hurt you. Never.”

“I know,” he said, still stroking a soothing line up and down her back. “But you would hurt
them,
and they know it. They're scared, too. What you did to Rannith…it was gruesome, and they're terrified. I'm sorry for the question, but what do you think they'll do to you for that?”

“They can't hurt me anymore,” she said, and straightened up enough to mop at her face. “I'm free, and this magic…They
can't
hurt me.”

“But they'll try,” he said. “Lord Elan's father is already on his way to Aredann, and when he finds out what happened here…Even if you didn't have magic, even if you'd just been some Twill who'd killed an Avowed…They won't just leave that be. If they can't control you, they'll try to kill you. And when you defend yourself…”

“What?” Jae asked.

“I'm scared,” he said simply, not hesitating or flinching from the compulsion to answer. “I want to help you. I don't want anyone to hurt you, either. But, Jae…if you defend yourself like this again, a lot of people
will
get hurt.”

Elan shuddered, peeling himself off the wall where he'd been listening. Tal's words echoed in his mind.
A lot of people will get hurt.
If Jae lost her temper, if anyone threatened her, she
could
destroy Aredann, just like mages during the War had disposed of whole armies.

Now that she was free of the Curse, there was no telling what she might do. He could only hope that she'd see reason, that she'd listen to Tal—he was the key to keeping her calm. Tal might only be a Closest, but Jae cared about what he said, and he'd already spoken to protect Lady Shirrad.

Which meant that Jae wasn't
entirely
unreasonable. She was just angry. He couldn't blame her for that, not knowing what Rannith had done to her. He couldn't imagine being in her position, helpless to defend herself against a monster—in her place, he might have reacted the same way. And whether he would have or not, he
understood
why she'd done it. He just needed to make sure she knew that.

She didn't like him much, either, but he wasn't like Rannith. He wouldn't hurt her; he never had. They could work together. In the end, they were on the same side. They both wanted to save Aredann from being abandoned, and to save the lives of the Closest who lived there.

He knocked on the door, and Jae and Tal both went silent inside. He didn't wait for them to answer, just let himself in. He walked slowly, hands raised in front of him. Open, honest. Not a threat.

“Jae, I'd like to talk to you, if that's all right,” he said carefully. “Tal, wait outside, please.”

Tal patted his sister's shoulder once, then stood. He bowed to Elan, then scurried by and shut the door after himself.

“May I sit?” Elan asked, pointing at one of the cushions near the sleeping mat. It had been shaken free of dust and sand. Tal must have sat there, waiting for her to wake.

Jae shrugged and arranged herself on the sleeping mat, blanket pulled up to her waist, his shirt pulled down firmly. She ran a hand over her hair, which was still too short for her gesture to have much effect—but then again, it was also too short to be messed up by sleep.