"What was that about?" Kiran asked as I rose and turned toward him. I laid my hands on my hips, looking around as though the willows and flowers could tell me more than Draco had. Skye appeared then from beneath a spray of forsythia, winding her way to me slowly, a lump in her belly from a recent meal. I bent down and offered my arm to her so that she could climb up onto my shoulders.
"I was asking Draco about what I saw at the Oraculum," I replied, looking in the direction that the dog had left in. "I saw the Blackmoors through his eyes. It was only a few moments on the battlefield, and I didn't understand all of what went on. He just showed me more." Kiran blinked, confounded.
"I have many questions," he finally said. I gave a brief smile, tracing my fingers down the ridges of scales on Skye's head.
"I'm sure you do."
"You... speak to them? And they speak to you in return? I thought perhaps you compelled them to do as you asked, but I didn't realize you... communicated." I laughed at the disbelief in his voice.
"For a stalker, you seem to know very little about me."
"What do they say to you? What does the viper say?" He asked, ignoring my playful jab. It was nice to have someone take interest, rather than just distant curiosity or even fear. Walking around with a viper necklace didn't often endear me to others, particularly when Skye's protective nature became well-known among the castle inhabitants.
"Skye says 'ass' a lot," I said through a smile. Kiran let out a laugh of surprise, a nearby group of young women who were strolling through the gardens giggling in response. They were close enough that I could see one blush crimson. Kiran didn't take any notice as he stared down at Skye with a gleam of delight in his eyes. "She doesn't say many words," I explained as we started to walk back toward the courtyard. "She communicates mostly with images, smells, sounds, and feelings. When she uses words it's mostly only one at a time, sometimes more if it's important. Her words usually start with or contain an 's' sound. That's why 'ass' is one of her favourites."
"She has favourite words?" I huffed at his earnest surprise.
"Don't you?" His brows furrowed as he thought about that. "We are just another animal. It shouldn't be a surprise we're more akin to a snake than not."
"That's true, I suppose," he considered thoughtfully. "What other favourites does she have?"
"Assassin," I said simultaneously with Skye's voice in my head. "Two asses, sass, and sin all in the same word? What's not to like." I said drily but with a smile and an affectionate glance down at Skye's ever watchful eyes. Kiran's laugh soared over the rustle of the willows and the songs of hidden birds.
"I think I like this snake," he said. Skye's tongue flicked as she regarded him with her amber gaze. "Do all beasts speak to you?"
"It depends on what type of animal and on the individual being. Some talk more than others. Some I can't hear at all. I've met other snakes, for example, and shared images or sensations with them, but none have spoken words to me like Skye does."
Special snake, Skye said.
She then showed me an image so vivid and potent that I could barely see or feel my surroundings beyond it. It was something she hadn't shown me before. There was a pool of still, dark water, a lake or a pond, with coloured leaves floating like little boats on its surface. A smell of decaying leaves. Cool liquid in my throat. Thirst abating. I saw Skye as she drank from the water, her face reflected in the black surface. There was something more... a feeling. An awareness. A presence...
"What about horses?" Kiran asked. I shook my head as the vision from Skye cleared.
"Horses?"
"I've often wondered if Zanfyre can understand me," Kiran asked as we started into the courtyard and passed a team of horses on their way to the tower gates.
"Zanfyre is your horse?" Kiran looked away from the team and back to me with a smile as he nodded, his dark hair an array of rich browns in the light of the midday sun. "I can't hear horses. It doesn't mean he can't understand you, only that I can't hear him. I can't hear any such creature," I said, looking away.
"What do you mean?" Kiran asked, but I didn't answer. I didn't truly know why I had never heard a horse, or a mouse, or a rabbit, or a songbird. I could only ever hear predators, and had wondered for many years what that said about the source of my power, or about myself.
"Let's find Kaylon," I said as we headed toward the training yard. "Maybe he can make sense of what I saw." We walked in silence through the rest of the courtyard and veered right through the stone arches that would take us to the grounds where the rest of the Diviners would be training. The sounds of weapons and voices grew louder until the space opened up to a large sand ring bathed in sunlight. Weapons of all kinds hung at various points along the walls, an area with targets and dummies for archery and knife-throwing set along the far side of the arena. Nikolas stood facing one such dummy, several knives waiting in his left hand while he took aim with his right. The knife wheeled through the air and struck the heart of the lifeless form. In the centre of the ring, Adri was fighting with Rikar, and he was instructing her on the weaknesses in the Viceron armour as they danced through the sand. Near to them and watching the fight was Ansel, Diviner of Metal, who looked over as we entered the arena, running his hand through his mop of sweaty blond hair and giving me a wink. I smiled and rolled my eyes, to which he laughed before turning back to Adri's match. Kiran and I continued our unbroken stride, walking toward where Kaylon concentrated intently over papers spread over his desk.
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"Good morning, Little Viper," Kaylon said as we approached his table. His rich, ebony skin glistened in the heat of the unobstructed sun. He looked me over with his honey-coloured eyes, his smile warm but his face still tight from the effort of his labour over battle strategies and research. Kiran extended his hand and introduced himself, and I could see his eyes scan over the gold and black tattoos that spun from Kaylon's wrists to his shoulders where they disappeared beneath his tunic.
"Worry not for me, son. You have enough on your hands with this one," Kaylon said, nodding at me before turning back to lean over his desk. Kiran looked at me with a question in his eyes.
"Kaylon is an empath," I explained. "He can both sense and control the emotions of others."
"Right now I'm having trouble controlling even my own," Kaylon muttered, rubbing a hand over his close-cropped black hair. The silver at his temples glinted in the sun. Kaylon had seen more lifetimes than most as we Diviners aged more slowly than those not gifted with godly powers, and the decades were starting to bear down on him in more ways than one. "I've stared so long at these maps that I'm struggling not to rip them apart." I looked over his shoulder, down at a map of the Blackmoors.
"What are you doing?" I asked, looking at the notations he'd made about the positions of the infantry and cavalry cohorts.
"Learning from the past to prevent the mistakes of the future." I glanced up at Kiran, who swept his gaze around us and nodded. I laid a hand on Kaylon's shoulder and he looked up at me with a quizzical expression.
"About that... we need to talk. Somewhere more private." Kaylon glanced at Kiran and then back to me, gave a single nod and then rose, gathering his papers into a leather satchel before leading us back to the Sanctum. Once inside, we headed to the library where the light from the tall windows caught the dust motes that drifted between the rows of books that lined the walls. We walked to a set of burgundy leather armchairs and Kiran and I sat as Kaylon poured himself a glass of whiskey from the row of spirits near the empty hearth.
"So what is going on, Little Viper?" Kaylon asked as he sat across from us and set his satchel down next to the chair. He sank into the leather with a weary sigh and cradled his drink in a large, calloused hand.
"There was a Diviner for the Viceron army at the Blackmoors, wasn't there?" I asked. Kaylon drained his glass and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and balancing the empty vessel between his hands.
"Yes," he finally said. "We believe there was another Diviner there, and that they were responsible for what happened to the infantry on the eastern flank of the battle. Deacon's group became cut off in their position, and by the time we reached them, no one was left."
"So where is this Diviner now?" Kiran asked. He tapped a percussive pattern with his finger on the worn leather armrest.
"We assume they perished in Deacon's counterattack." Kaylon ran a hand over his head and then clasped the back of his neck. "There was nothing left from either side. Everything was ash."
"What makes you think they perished?" Kiran pressed. Kaylon regarded him with a battle-weary gaze.
"What did you see?" Kaylon asked of me, deflecting Kiran's question.
"A strange smoke surrounded the men and they stopped on the battlefield as if transfixed by a spell. They slit their own throats. All except Deacon," I answered quietly.
"That's why we believe the Diviner also perished," Kaylon said as he rose, meeting Kiran's eyes in answer to his question. He walked to the table of liquors and poured himself another glass of whiskey. "The Diviner felled over a hundred men in seconds. If that person had survived, why wouldn't they rejoin their ranks and kill again?"
I turned in my chair to watch as Kaylon sipped from his whiskey and inspected one of the other glass bottles holding an amber liquid. "But if Deacon was about to kill that Diviner and the opposing troops, why did the Queen burn his bonds?" I asked.
Kaylon set the bottle down and it rattled unsteadily. "What did you say?" I glanced at Kiran. The look he returned was dark and unreadable.
"I saw... on the battlefield... his bonds. They burned. There was magic in the air and then his bonds alighted." Kaylon moved toward us, his expression sunken, fearful. The weariness of earlier was replaced by an edge of anxiety.
"That's impossible," he whispered. "The Queen was with me. She never uttered a spell."
"What about the mage?" Kiran asked as rose from his chair, his hand resting on the glittering hilt of his sword.
"She was here," I said. "Even if she had a way of knowing what was happening during the battle, which is unlikely as she was at the castle, she couldn't have enacted the spell without the consent of Queen Myrian. She is bonded to Fidelium as much as any of us. Her magic simply wouldn't have worked without the Queen's permission."
"And you're sure of what you saw?" Kaylon asked.
"Yes, I am. The Oracle saw it also, and spoke of it in her prophecy as the connection was severing. The Queen may already know if she's consulted with the mage."
"Then I need to discuss this with the Queen, and determine what further protections we need to enact," Kaylon said, stalking to the armchair and picking up his satchel. "I ask you not to discuss this with the others for now. The last thing we need is panic." I nodded as Kaylon approached me, resting his heavy hands on my shoulders, the thick muscles of his arm tense. "Thank you for letting me know. I'm sure the Queen will be very grateful for this insight." I nodded again and offered a weak smile, and then Kaylon departed from the library, leaving us in taut silence. Kiran stepped toward me, his muscular frame blocking the view of the door.
"You left something out," he said quietly, looking down at me through thick lashes. Heat seemed to radiate from him in the short distance between us.
"Why would you say that?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.
"Kaylon knew there was a Diviner at the Blackmoors for the Viceron army. The Queen likely knows about the bonds from the mage." Kiran took another step toward me, the smell of cedar drifting around us as Skye's face came alongside mine, tongue flicking. "Something else about this is weighing on you, isn't it? It certainly is on me."
"Aside from not knowing who claimed Deacon's bonds and not having conclusive proof as to whether a powerful enemy Diviner perished in the battle, what could possibly be weighing on me?"
Kiran smiled. His eyes shone, a single dimple appearing in his lopsided, conspiratorial smile. "What indeed," he said. He turned then, striding toward the door. "I need to meet with Captain Donseer, he should know what's going on," he said over his shoulder.
"Kiran?" He stopped and turned, his brows raised in question, his face lit by a shaft of light that sliced through the room like the sun was meant to find him no matter how deep the darkness. The way that he looked at me then, as though he held an earnest and fragile hope that I could learn to trust him, erased any lingering doubts I had about confiding in him about what I'd seen. "Deacon... he spoke, before the end. He said 'I will never,' but there was no one left to listen."
Kiran's expression hardened. His fist closed tighter around his sword. His eyes seemed to flash in the light, for just an instant. "Perhaps someone heard him after all."