The Marked Son (Keepers of Life) (31 page)

“From what I saw, they favor each other.”

“How could he stand there and do nothing to help his own grandson?”

“I can only imagine he saw the same character flaw in Dylan that he had in his son. I know the boy frightened him.”

Kera shakes her head, and then stares directly at me, her eyes heavy. “Dylan’s nothing like his father.”

I lay down beside her, and she tilts her head to face me. “I love him.”

Her father rubs her arm and says in a tight voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.” He then stands and snuffs all but one candle.

Tears prickle her eyelashes. “The pain is still there,” she says, staring at my ghostly image. I lay my hand gently on her cheek. She closes her eyes.

Her father hesitates near the open door. His voice trembles with sadness. “As it will be, forever.” He then leaves, closing the door behind him.

She forces her eyes open. “I see you, now. I’ve been watching you for a while. Your spirit is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are.”

Her eyes flutter closed. “How can I live?”

“You will. For me.”

She sleeps.

I guard her, knowing she’s fragile, feeling her heart break, and racking my brain for a way for her to escape what’s coming.

I’m the son of the Lost King. If anyone can find the fine line between insanity and genius, it’s me.

Dying to See

Kera’s in pain. Throughout the day, the skin around her shoulder swells and turns an ugly red. Though I still don’t understand why she can hear me, I find out how she’s seeing me. The opium. Somehow it helps blur the line between the living and the dead. I know exactly when the effects are wearing thin. Her face clouds with panic and she begins to toss and turn, mewling like a kitten. She quickly takes the glass, pours water, and puts a few drops into it. Lying back, she waits and in a few minutes, she’s relaxed and is following my every move with her eyes. Soon after, she falls asleep.

Between those fits of sleep, she talks. I can’t shut her up. She tells me how she has no real power of her own, and how her father has shared his to keep her safe. “I’m a fake, Dylan. More human than even you. I’ve survived only because of my father. I owe him everything.”

I’m across the room, trying my best to move a chair like ghosts do in the movies. I’m not having much luck. “Fathers should be there for their kids.”

“You know who your father is.” Her voice carries a hint of feverish excitement.

“Yeah. A crazy king imprisoned by the
pux
. I’m a lucky guy.”

Her forehead puckers. “Would you rather not know?”

“No. I’m glad you asked.” And I am. The odds of my dad being a classy guy were never in my favor. It would have gone against everything else in my life. Crazy mom. Crazy dad. Miserable, dead son. That’s what you call destiny.

A maid comes in and checks on Kera’s shoulder. The woman clucks her tongue at the warmth of Kera’s skin. “I wish Faldon were here.”

“He’s dead,” I say. “I killed him.”

“You did?” Kera asks.

There’s no remorse in me. “He was going to kill my grandma and Leo.”

“Oh.” Kera turns to the maid. “Faldon’s dead,” she says so brightly that the girl blinks.

“How do you know?”

Kera smiles and glances at me. “I just know.”

The maid looks in my direction, though she can’t see me. Her eyes hold a hint of worry. She looks back at Kera and pats her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

The poor girl nearly runs from the room.

“What else do you know that I don’t?” Kera asks.

I tell her everything. About the fight. About inhabiting Leo. About Bodog. I tell her about all the men I’ve killed and the darkness that’s hiding in a corner of my soul. I want to scrub it away, but I don’t know how. “I’ll most likely go to hell if I follow the light.”

“Don’t.” She’s suddenly agitated. Her face flushes an alarming, burnt pink.

I stop pacing. “Don’t what? Talk about hell? Don’t you believe in it?”

She grows so intense, it’s hard to keep eye contact. “Don’t follow the light,” she pleads. “You can’t leave me. Please.”

I draw close and give her my best smile. At least I hope it is. I can’t see myself in a mirror, so who knows what I look like? Hopefully, not all bloody and pale. “I’ll be here for as long as you need me. I promise.”

“You can break your promise. You’re like me. Neither of us is a pure blood.”

A gasp sounds from across the room, and I turn to see the woman who bandaged Kera’s shoulder standing in the doorway. The younger maid hovers near the woman’s shoulder. “It’s like I told you,” she whispers. “Feverish and talking to herself.”

The woman nods and shoos the girl out. A tiny speck of fear gathers in the pit of my stomach. They had to have heard Kera. But did they believe her? The woman doesn’t act any differently. Her smile is warm. Her hands gentle.

After changing the bandage, the woman pours Kera a glass of water and adds the medicine.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two to check on you. Drink plenty of water.”

Kera nods, and the woman leaves.

The sun slides lower in the sky, and the preparations begin in earnest. Women come and go, and Kera falls into a pensive state. The dress is laid out, and her hair combed until it shines. Kera’s father comes when the woman is checking on her shoulder. Red streaks shoot out from the wound’s center, and everyone whispers their concern. Hadrain isn’t pleased.

“What does he not understand? You’re not fit to walk.” He turns and holds up his hands. “Stop! No more.”

He hustles everyone from the room, all but the woman tending Kera’s shoulder. He presses a kiss to his daughter’s forehead and murmurs, “I’ll make him listen.” His determination holds a promise as he leaves.

“It won’t work,” the woman says, while she rebinds Kera’s shoulder wound. “Navar is determined.”

Kera winces at the bandage’s pressure. “My options are dwindling.”

I can’t let her live in a fantasy anymore. “You’ve only had one option. You have to marry Navar.”

“I only said I would marry him to buy us time.”

Kera’s despondent voice garners a flicker of interest from the woman. Nothing more.

“We can’t pretend,” I say. “Your people need you. I-I think marrying Navar is the right thing to do.”

“No,” Kera says louder.

The woman stands and checks on the water jug. “Have you been drinking the plain water I brought you?”

Eyes glassy from the drug, Kera nods. “Yes.”

The woman hesitates, and then pours Kera a glass. While she waits for her to drink, a butterfly floats into the room from the open window. It makes a tight turn and floats back out. The woman smiles. “It’s a lovely evening. Have you noticed? The stars will light our way.”

Kera hands the glass back, and then the woman leaves.

Ten minutes pass. I try talking to Kera, but she won’t talk back. I stare down at her. “Can you still hear me? See me?”

Is my power fading like Faldon said it would?

Kera reaches for my hand, but I’m as solid as vapor. Sadness shadows her eyes. She slides out of bed. Woozy, she stands still for a second.

“What’re you doing?”

She won’t answer. She’s ignoring me on purpose.

“Kera?”

She carefully walks to the window and leans out to stare at the sky. If I could hold my breath, I would. She could tumble out if she’s not careful, and I tell her so. The only response I get is a loopy smile and a slurred, “Lovely.”

“What is?” The sky’s clear, though darkening.

She pushes away from the window and heads for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Butterflies are beautiful.”

What’s wrong with her? “Yeah. Now go back to bed.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“I bet you aren’t.” Her stomach must be sloshing with all the water she’s had.

She opens the bedroom door and walks out. I expect a guard or at least someone to be nearby in case Kera calls out. No one. The hall is oddly empty. She shuffles down the stairs, clinging to the railing as she goes. I’m scared she’ll fall, and there’s nothing I can do to catch her.

A side door leads outside, and she opens it, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. Something isn’t right. I’ve carefully monitored her drug intake, so that can’t be it. Something else is happening, but I don’t know what.

“Kera, what are you doing?”

“Finding peace.” She walks on her tiptoes, sneaking away.

“Go back inside.”

She spreads out her arms, twirls and falls to her knees, marring the perfect white nightgown. “Stain,” she says, and rubs at it, making it worse. I encourage her to stand.

The woman who’s been caring for her emerges from the manor and helps Kera to her feet. I’m thankful someone is paying attention around here.

“What a horrible mess. It needs washing. Come with me.”

Instead of going inside, the woman leads her down a path and into the woods. A cold chill sweeps over my spirit. “Kera, ask her where she’s taking you.”

By now, Kera’s feet drag furrows into the ground, her progress becomes as slow as the coming night. The only conversation I can draw out of her has to do with pretty, twinkling stars and delicate, blue butterflies. Her eyes are heavy, and her shoulders droop. As the woman drags Kera through the forest, I suddenly realize where we’re going. The lake.

When Kera’s legs wobble, the woman’s grip becomes firm. “Not much further. Keep walking. We’ll rinse it in the lake, take the stain right out, then you can stargaze all night and play with the butterflies.”

That caring voice makes me cringe. Why couldn’t I see the danger standing beside Kera? Even now, Kera’s every step is nurtured. Who would guess the evil hiding behind the woman’s loving praise? She has acting skills. No doubt about it.

The lake appears through the forest in cool tones of blue, shading to black. On the shore stands a man. He doesn’t need to turn around for me to know him. Navar.

The woman releases Kera, but Kera’s too drugged to stand and collapses. I stoop and yell at her to get up. She only smiles and reaches out a hand to touch me. “Beautiful.”

Navar whirls around, his face icy with disgust when he spots Kera. “Did anyone see you?”

“No, my lord.” The woman backs away. “I’ve done what you asked, but no more. It’s your pride that wants her dead, not mine. She’s a sweet girl. I beg of you. Don’t do this.”

“By the maid’s own report, she’s of mixed blood, a taint to our kind. You were there. You heard. It’s a far gentler thing I do now than let her die in the manner that our law demands.”

“As king, you can change that law.”

Hearing that, hope stirs within me.

Confusion crosses his face. “Why?”

At his careless word, the woman looks ready to throw up, and seeing it, Navar waves her off. “Go. You’ve done enough.”

Backing away, she puts a hand to her mouth and mumbles, “I’ve done too much. I’ll never forgive myself.” Sickly pale, the woman turns and runs.

Unaffected by the woman’s distress, Navar walks forward, his strides big and strong. I rush at him, ready to dive into his skin and make him carry Kera back to the castle, but I slip through his body like steam through air. My frustration climbs when I realize his powers prevent me from entering him.

Asleep, Kera mutters incoherently as she’s lifted into his arms. She’s completely defenseless.

My soul cries out for help when Navar enters the water. “Why?” I shout at the heavens. “Stop him!”

My call for help ripples over the lake, but for all I can see, it’s gone unanswered.

A school of fish draws near, but as Navar wades into the lake, he sends them away. Soon the water is up to his waist. I yell at Kera to wake up. She sighs, lost in her dreams.

Water laps at Navar’s chest. I cuss at him as he slowly pulls his arms from beneath her. She floats for a moment. He cocks his head and looks at the dark waves of her hair fanning out in the water, her pale, perfect skin, and beautiful, sleeping face. His hand sweeps along her hairline and down past her chin. “It’s a shame. You really are a pretty thing.”

And then his hand settles on her chest, and he pushes.