Kin of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 1) (17 page)

“Help, I think he’s been stabbed!” Basen shouted.

“Basen?” someone called not too far off.

“Yes, help us!”

Sloshing footsteps came to him. He made out the silhouette of a woman through the rain. Sanya, he realized. She’d heard his screams.

“Help me carry him to the medical building,” he told her.

“I can barely see.” She came to grab Nick’s arms and shoulders while Basen shifted to take his feet. “Can you give us light?” she asked.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? We can’t make it without it.”

But he could feel the bastial energy again, not that he understood why or had time to think about it. He switched to hold Nick with one arm, grabbing his wand with his free hand. Creating light, Basen aimed it at Nick and nearly dropped his wand at the horrific sight.

Nick’s throat had been cut, the wound opening and closing as he struggled to breathe.

“God’s mercy!”

“We have to hurry!” Sanya yelled.

They ran, but the medical building was a half-mile away. The rain beat down. Panic and adrenaline were the only things that kept Basen’s painfully sore legs moving as he lit their path.

He and Sanya didn’t speak. The only sounds were their haggard breaths and the clap of their footsteps against the sodden ground.

It seemed to take a miserably long time to get there, but they never slowed. “Almost there, Nick,” Basen assured him, though he couldn’t take the time to check if his friend was still alive.

Lamp light poured out from the medical building’s windows. He and Sanya took Nick around to the front. “Someone’s cut his throat!” Basen shouted as they barreled through the doorway.

Two healers, a man and a woman, rushed over and helped Sanya and Basen get Nick onto a medical bed. They ran to wheel him into a nearby room. The man told the woman to get a caregelow potion. She ran out as he fetched a few jars and placed them on a table beside the bed.

“Open these jars and get out the tools,” he told Basen as he leaned over Nick to inspect the wound.

Basen followed the instructions, noticing all the while that Nick was no longer moving, his eyes shut.

“Nick!” Basen yelled, holding back tears.

“What can I do?” Sanya cried out.

“Just stand back,” the healer said.

The woman returned with a vial just like the one Alabell had given Basen to sell. It appeared inedible, a silver glow beneath the lamp light. The female healer pushed Basen away to bring the caregelow potion to Nick’s lips. The second healer ran gut through the needle Basen had readied for him.

“Is he drinking?” the man asked.

“No.” She pressed her fingers against his neck to feel for his pulse.

A tense moment passed as Basen watched and waited.

She shook her head.

Both healers lost their hurry as they straightened their backs and let their shoulders slump. Sanya put her face against Basen’s shoulder and cried.

“I’m sorry,” the man told them. “He’s already dead.”

The words made the hairs on Basen’s neck stand as a sharp sadness pierced his heart. His strength left him, buckling his knees. If it wasn’t for Sanya’s warmth, her arms around him, he would’ve collapsed. He put his head on top of hers and squeezed her into him, for he felt that if he let go, the world would shatter.

*****

It felt like time didn’t move. Basen stood staring at Nick’s bloody corpse waiting for thoughts or feelings to come, but his shock was too much for either.

He didn’t know how long he stared before the male healer touched his arm and asked, “What did you see?”

Basen swayed on his feet as he struggled to speak. “Absolutely nothing. Nick’s screams awoke me, but whoever had come in had already left through the window by the time I got to his room.”

“You should clean yourselves up and try to get some rest,” the healer suggested in a soft voice. “I have to go speak with Terren. The gates need to be closed, the walls need to be watched, and we must search for the murderer.”

Sanya wiped her teary eyes. “You think it’s someone from outside the Academy?”

“It must be. Everyone here had their loyalty questioned. Intentions to murder another student would’ve been detected.” The healer frowned. “I’m sorry, I must go to Terren now.”

Basen kept his arm around Sanya as they trudged in a stupor out of the medical building.
Why Nick? Who could possibly want to kill him?

“Basen,” Sanya murmured, “your clothes.”

He looked down to see that not only his shirt and pants were red with Nick’s blood, but his arms and hands were as well. “Sanya…” He gestured at her coat.

She looked down to find the same sight.

They walked in silence all the way back to the bathhouse near their campus homes. He aimed light over the spigot as Sanya scrubbed the blood from her arms and hands. When she was done, he stuck his right hand beneath the stream while continuing to use his wand with his left.

Sanya enclosed his hand with both of hers and rubbed to free Nick’s blood from its grasp on his skin. Once his hand and arm were clean, he switched his wand to his other hand so she could cleanse the other side.

Not a single word was spoken, and Basen didn’t feel the need to disrupt the stillness. What would be the point? Nothing they spoke of could alleviate his shock and horror nor answer his questions.

He could read his very emotions on Sanya’s blood-streaked face. The two of them were stuck in the same nightmare.

“I think I want to use the showers,” she said. “But I need spare clothes from my house first.”

“That’s a good idea.”

She looked at him for a while, her almond eyes blinking expectantly. But Basen couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out what she wanted.

“Will you come with me?” she asked gently, almost shamefully. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I don’t, either,” he realized.

They both retrieved a clean set of clothes and returned to the bathhouse. There were separate entrances for men and women, but they entered neither and simply stared at each other instead.

“I never thanked you for your help,” Basen finally said. “I wouldn’t have made it to the medical building without you.”

“We did everything we could.”

Basen started into the bathhouse but stopped when Sanya spoke. “You must not want to go back to the house tonight.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Stay with me. I could use the company.”

He nodded gratefully. “I’ll meet you there if you finish before me.”

The Academy was the only place Basen had been that had showers. The aqueduct system was superior to any other. He learned that mages warmed the water storage twice a day, morning and evening. At this time, however, it was frigid cold. But he actually came to be thankful. He had felt tears swelling in his chest and the freezing water pushed them back down. Under warm water, Basen might’ve lingered and cried until morning or longer.

Only one lamp still burned, making the bathhouse nearly too dim for Basen to see. The long shadows on the walls terrified him more than they should have.

Sanya was in her bedroom when he arrived. She had on a fresh sleeping gown.

Basen motioned to remove his shirt. “I hope you don’t mind?”

She shook her head, her sad expression without change.

He squeezed into the small bed beside her. His undershorts didn’t extend far, and his bare legs touched against her cold shins. But she didn’t flinch, moving to rest her head against his shoulder instead.

“The sight of death is the worst thing to witness,” she said.

“This wasn’t the first time you’ve seen it?”

“Do you remember hearing news about my sister and mother?”

“Yes.” Basen didn’t know Sanya at the time, though he’d heard that her father, the head chemist in Tenred’s castle, had two daughters a few years apart. Sanya was the younger sibling. “You watched them die?”

“My sister.” She took a shaky breath. “My father killed her by accident.”

He gently slid his fingers between hers. “How in god’s world is that possible?”

“The tale of her death only begins what I’ve been meaning to tell you since I first saw you here at the Academy. I could see in your eyes that you were surprised I wasn’t a nasty shrew anymore. I feel it’s important to explain my past behavior, but we haven’t had the opportunity.” She squeezed his hand. “How unfortunate for it to finally come after such a terrible event.”

The warmth of her hand and the press of her cheek against his shoulder seemed like the only thing keeping him grounded in this world. Without Sanya, Basen felt like he would drift into a void, where depression and confusion would be his ground and walls.

It would’ve been strange for them to share a bed like this at any point before, but he could feel she needed the same comfort as he did. It was in the undertone of her words—the same fear she would slip into despair at any moment.

“Please go on,” he said.

“My father had unreasonable expectations for my sister. He thought that with the right training, she could become the most powerful person in the world. He wanted her to discover new energies, to learn psyche, to wield a sword, a bow, a wand…” Sanya sighed. “As you already know, my father was the king’s most valued chemist. His work involved inventing and producing potions that could help in the war. One, for example, removed flesh upon contact, causing unbearable pain and leaving a hideous green scar.”

“I’d heard of that one.” It had been used toward the end of the war, but even the chemists wielding it voiced their discomfort with its cruelty. There were plenty of other weapons more deadly. But it was used as a tactic of fear, to agonize and scar their enemies. Basen hadn’t known it was Sanya’s father who’d invented it.

“He experimented on my sister for years. None were designed to hurt her, although many did. He wanted to ‘open her abilities,’ a statement he used many times when arguing with my poor mother, who had no power to stop him. Eventually, he gave my sister a mixture that her body couldn’t handle. I watched as tremors shook her so violently that she couldn’t breathe. The king—your uncle—and a few others knew the truth about the experiments. My mother tried to have my father imprisoned, but he was too important to your uncle. Those who didn’t know the truth were told that my sister died from a seizure.” Sanya tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked into Basen’s eyes. “Is that what you heard?”

“I do remember hearing that.” He spoke in the same hushed tone as hers. Hopefully exhaustion would take them into sleep soon. “I’m sorry.”

She turned to lie flat on her back and let out her breath. “My father started experimenting on me soon after.”

“God’s mercy, Spiro must’ve been insane.”

“That’s an understatement. He taught me that if I’m not someone important, then I’m no one. I was forced to work hard every moment of every day. The potions he gave me made me feel all sorts of things: irritable, tired, energetic, scared. Each day would be a mystery, and I hated every moment. As a result, I didn’t treat others in the castle with any care, and it only became worse as I got older.”

“I wish I’d known.” Guilt found its way through his shock. He’d made no effort to help Sanya but had joked about her behind her back with the rest of his friends.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done anyway.”

“Your mother must’ve tried to do a lot.”

“I’m sure she did, but I didn’t get to see her much after my sister died because Spiro had your uncle keep her away from me except for one visit a month. He threatened me so I wouldn’t tell her about the experiments. But after a year, I finally found the courage to bring them up. I don’t remember much except that she seemed alarmed by the news and made me swear not to tell Spiro that I’d mentioned it to her. It was ten years ago at least, and it was the last time I saw her. I figure she must’ve tried to do something to help me and was punished for it. She might’ve died later that week…or years after, I don’t know. My father waited until I was twelve to tell me that my mother had passed.”

Her voice was weak and rigid, as if about to break. “He claimed it just…happened naturally—her heart had stopped during the night. There was a funeral, but I never saw her body. Sometimes I feel hopeful that she’s still alive, yet I know she isn’t. I could see it in his eyes whenever I—” A sob interrupted her.

She turned to bury her face in Basen’s chest as she cried. He held her and murmured comforting words with little to no meaning, but it seemed to help.

It was hard to imagine this woman on Warrior’s Field fighting with men twice her size. But at least now he could see that his memories of the old Sanya weren’t the real Sanya. This woman in his arms was real—this determined, strong woman, who came out of a harsh childhood with no family or friends to show for it. He still hadn’t asked how her father died, but he didn’t care to know.

“I’m sorry,” she said, stopping her tears immediately. “It’s wrong to talk about people who died years ago after what just happened to your friend.”

“I don’t know what’s right and wrong in situations like this, so you should do whatever you feel comfortable doing.”