Ah, extra late this time. I'll try to post the next one earlier, sorry!

Chapter 18 - Fiyr

It's finally spring; the birds have begun to chirp again, buds peek out of bushes, animals poke noses out of burrows, and I'm about three minutes away from losing my damn mind.

Well, a few things happened first. Yllowei swallowed the line about the cinders and Cindra's life-force and since then, my ex-squire's improved dramatically and marches around the castle daily, running errands for Yllowei, her staff clicking on the stone with each step.

Mercifully, Clowd's control over god-magic seems to have disappeared since the day with Cindra in the healer's wing and I've buried the memory in the uneventful following months. Since then, Clowd has grown like a weed; his tufts of white hair have turned into a thick head of snowy-white curls and his blue eyes have lost their innocent roundness, gaining a gleam of mischief.

More than a gleam, to tell the truth. He has a talent for it. So I wasn't very surprised when one warm spring morning Brindellia Faise nearly knocks Samn and I over with the declaration that Faern and Clowd have somehow disappeared from the nursery.

"What do you mean, they're missing?" Samn demands.

"They're gone! They're not anywhere in the castle!" Brindellia answers, her hands twisting around each other fretfully.

I stare at her panicked expression, but I'm not really taking in the image of her face, just staring at a point in space and trying to figure out what the next step is. Samn is the opposite: the news of Faern and Clowd's disappearance has set a fire under him and he takes a step toward the castle doors, seems to think better of it and doubles back. He glances at Brindellia, then at me, and finally says,

"Well, we need to find them!"

"Of course we do!" Brindellia exclaims and groans. "A three and four-year-old in the forest? Something terrible's going to happen to them, I just know it will."

"Let's go look for them, then," I finally find my voice and say.

"Where are we supposed to start?" Samn asks no one.

"They can only have gone into the forest," I reason. "Faern's demonstrated, so she'll leave a trace, and they're young. They won't have made it far."

Lady Faise groans.

"Mom, we'll find them soon, try not to worry while we're gone," Samn murmurs to her and gives her a quick hug, then nods at me and we set off.

As we're leaving the castle, Samn's eyes flick to me and he asks in a low tone, "Should we bring the horses?"

I glance at the stables and then back at him, before I answer: "Let's try on foot first."

He nods, and we cross the pavilion to the ladder and the break in the treetops. Samn slides down the trunk like a knight and I take the ladder like a squire. When we hit the forest floor, I consider bringing up his continued lack of advancement in rank, but think better of it.

We're nearly twenty years old and he's still sleeping in the squire nooks with Brakken and Sewif, who are several years younger. Duss is too, but I'm… less concerned with where he spends his nights. It's getting ridiculous. Maybe I should say something to the queen. But just imagining how angry and embarrassed Samn would be is enough to put the idea out of my head.

I shift into the Trace as we start to walk and reach out for Faern's fresh, leafy life-force and grudgingly, Clowd's sort-of-elementalist, sort-of-god-magic trace as well. Despite the utter lack of him showing any more ability to manipulate corruption since the incident with Cindra, Clowd's trace has stayed stubbornly god-like and I feel a nervous shiver every time I feel it.

Sure enough, the nearly-god trace is carried by the wind to us from the east. I signal to Samn and he nods, taking the lead and heading for a copse of maple trees. A moment later, Faern's trace washes over me too, even more strongly than Clowd's.

"She's nearby," I whisper to Samn.

"Faern!" he shouts without missing a beat. "Faern, where are you?!"

A second later, a little pale-haired girl pops her head out of a bush. Her gray hair and wide eyes remind me so much of Cindra before the accident that my heart squeezes, but I take a deep breath and put on a stern face as Samn begins the lecture.

"What were you thin—"

"Shh!" she interrupts, beckoning us closer with one pudgy hand. "Cowd's hunting!"

Her inability to pronounce my nephew's name is cute in every situation except this one: Clowd, hunting? The implication that her explanation brings makes nerves rush through me and I'm dizzy for a moment before I regain my bearings and start damage control.

"How is he hunting?" I whisper to Faern as we approach carefully, Samn wary of spooking his half-sister and making her run deeper into the forest, and me desperate to be told that Clowd isn't using his god-magic.

"His sparkles, silly!" she says matter-of-factly before she ducks back into the bush.

As we follow her in, Samn shoots me a puzzled look. Horror claws its way up my back. Samn doesn't know. Fuuuuck me. Maybe when Faern says his sparkles, it's no—

A burst of light blinds Samn and I momentarily as we try to push through the bush and into the clearing on the other side. "Shit, shit, shitshitshit," I mutter under my breath.

"Don't swear in front of the kid," Samn scolds, sounding relieved that we've found Faern and very, very confused as to why I've apparently lost all control of my mouth.

I just let out a low groan, still hanging on to the last scrap of hope that Clowd's not using his god-magic. When the fuzzy spots from the flash of light fades from my vision, I spot my three-year-old nephew looking like a demon as he crouches over the brutalized body of a doe.

"Shit." This time, Samn's not reprimanding me. He's too busy staring in shock. And so am I.

"Fiyr!" Clowd exclaims. "Look, look! I caught a deer like you and Samn are always doing!"

My heart drops into my stomach as I stare at the deer's corpse. Just like I feared, long spikes of sparkling corruption are sticking out of its blood-soaked belly. No, no, no.

"Fiyr, what is that?" Samn asks slowly and when I don't reply, says, "Alright. Don't answer that. Has he done that before?"

Clowd cocks his head, hearing Samn's words, and glances between us, perplexed. "I thought you… the court needs food… so I caught a deer."

I press my hands to my temples and try to fend off the oncoming headache. "Samn… he's never produced corruption." Which is true… technically.

"But…?" He won't be thrown off so easily.

"Can we talk about this once the children are safe?" I beg.

Samn's gone from shocked by the situation to alternating between staring at me and Clowd with a coolly evaluating gaze. Now, he turns to me and nods slowly. "We have to talk about this. The queen needs to know about this… incident."

No! But I can convince him of that later; I need to deal with Clowd first. I just bob my head and turn away from him to hurry over to my pale-haired nephew.

That shock of white-hair reaches up past my waist now and when he stands from where he was crouching by the deer, his eyes are defiant. I already know it's because I haven't praised him for his catch, but I don't have time to deal with his delicate ego, because his place in the court is in jeopardy and it takes priority over his irritation.

"Clowd, listen to me," I preempt his remark and he shuts his mouth, a mutinous look beginning to take over his face. "Never ever use your sparkles."

"My life-force?" His head tilts quizzically. "Why not? I'm really good! I took down that deer!"

"I saw that," I reply, pained, and then, choosing my words carefully, add, "but the problem is that… you have a kind of life-force that the court… can't see."

"It's invisible?"

"No, Clowd, they—they'll… be very upset if they see you doing it," I try to explain it simply, but Clowd's frown is deepening by the second.

"But I did a good thing! Look at the deer!" he insists.

"Clowd—"

"Look!"

"Clowd, never use it again!" I shout. He recoils, wide-eyed at my loud tone.

"Fiyr…" Samn's quiet voice brings me back to reality.

My shoulders slacken and I kneel, reaching for Clowd, who has gone stone-still. I take hold of his arms gently but he's staring at the ground. "Hey. Hey, buddy, listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

He sniffs. Tears form in the corners of his eyes but they don't fall and he sniffs again, then he mutters, "Whatever."

"I'm sorry," I repeat, shame washing over me. What was I thinking? He's just a little kid. He didn't know any better. "Have you used it before?"

Clowd doesn't say anything, just continues staring at his feet.

"One time, he—" Faern cuts in eagerly, oblivious to Clowd's stormy mood.

"Shut up!" Clowd snaps over my shoulder at her.

"Hey!" Samn interjects, stepping between his half-sister and my nephew. "Don't talk to her like that!"

"Clowd, we're going back to the castle," I tell him, fighting to keep my tone calm. "Can we talk more? I know that you're—"

"Leave me alone!" he growls, shaking free of my hands and returning to his deer. "I'm bringing this back. Faern, help me."

But he's not getting any help from his adopted sister; she's got a hurt scowl on her face and she's staying put behind Samn, whose hands are now on his hips. So much for cool-as-a-cucumber-Samn when things turn toward his family. But now is not the time to contemplate what an excellent father he'd make.

"I'll take it, Clowd," I mutter finally, breaking the tension rising between Samn in front of Faern, whose lip is quivering, and Clowd, whose face darkens rapidly. "Just… let's go, please?"

Clowd turns away from his adopted sister, thank the Starlaxi, with a grunt and bends to grab the deer, unfazed by the pale spikes that protrude from its flank. I reach gingerly for the front half and hoist it up. Clowd has no trouble yanking his half up into the air either, to my surprise. I was fully ready to grovel for help to Samn and then just pray to the Starlaxi that the kids didn't kill each other on the way back.

"Come on," Samn eventually grunts and we set off, Faern waddling along irately while clutching Samn's right hand and Clowd and I bringing up the rear with his catch.

I debate whether I should praise him for the deer or not. While nearly every section of my mind is occupied with worrying to death over whether Samn's going to expose his secret to the court, or if Faern will, or if Clowd will slip up and somehow reveal it to the court on his own, there's still a small part that's pretty impressed.

I mean, he's three. How did he and Faern ever get out of the nursery without Brindellia spotting them in the first place? He certainly doesn't act three, from what I remember of Sewif, Briatte, and Thorrin's early years. Even compared to Faern, who still has a year on him, he's more mature and strings together ideas quicker and more coherently than she does. Not to mention his growth; he's nearly a head taller than her. I'm hoping that he's just a big kid… still, I'm suspecting that it has something to do with his father.

I wish I could meet Clowd's dad, I think, glancing back at my nephew. I'd toast him for his excellent fatherhood skills. Sarcasm, sarcasm.

But even imagining stringing up some giant white-haired god and burning him in… places where he would definitely feel it… doesn't help much with the current situation. I stare at Samn's back as he continues through the forest. No matter how much time I've spent examining his retreating form, I still can't read his emotions from behind, and it's more annoying than ever. Is he going to tell the queen about Clowd?
I'll forgive him for years of mixed messages and hot-and-cold behaviour if I can just figure out if he's going to force my nephew back to the gods. On one hand, I think he cares enough to hear me out if I tell him that Clowd's going to be in danger if he goes back, but… on the other hand, he's so loyal to Queen Bluelianna. Like... to a fault. And I can't let that fault hurt Clowd.

My stomach hurts just thinking about all the ways things could go very, very wrong right now. And if Samn's at fault for things going wrong… I don't want to think about it. He wants to protect Faern and he wants Queen Bluelianna to know about every little thing that goes on at court.

But do those add up to 'making Clowd go back to a dangerous place'? He did see Clowd kill a doe with his god-magic; is he gonna think that Clowd's a danger to his half-sister? Then again, they've been inseparable since they were babies and Faern's hardly lying on the floor dead, with corruption jutting out of her.

My head pulses with pain again and I wince, glancing up ahead to see how much further we have to go to make it back to the castle. Mercifully, the children didn't get far from the base of Thundria's castle's trees and we're nearly there.

Still enough time for me to worry over every single one of Samn's steps.

…

"Clowd, Faern, would you go back to the nursery please?" Samn asks pleasantly once we're all on the pavilion. "Sir Harte will bring in your catch, Clowd, don't worry. We'll make sure the court knows it was yours, but don't tell Lady Faise until we can show her the deer."

Clowd seems to have cooled off on the way back to the castle and nods, then takes Faern's hand. "Sorry, Fairy, I was being mean. Let's go tell Mom about our adventure! Except for the deer part." He glances up at Samn who gives him an approving nod.

I relax a little as they walk away, getting the sense that Samn's also relaxed on the way back to the castle and that we can just talk rationally about—

"Alright, dicks-for-eyes, time to come clean," he growls, whipping around and advancing on me with a ferocious gleam in his eyes.

"W—what?" I stammer, stumbling back in surprise.

"You heard me," Samn snaps. "What. In the name of the Starlaxi. Was. That."
"He can do god-magic," I confess in a rush. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—he—I should've told you he—"

"Why wouldn't you tell me?!" he snaps. "Why?! I know—I know it's important, but all the more reason—do you not trust me at all?!"

The last part explodes out of him like he's been thinking about it for a while. I'm shocked out of words before I can pick up the pieces of my brain and put them together into a coherent thought. "Samn, of course I… I do, I just…"

"Don't trust me with important stuff," he finishes, eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "Fiyr… I could've helped. I could've talked to him, or you, or—damn it, Fiyr!"

Tears are coming. It's far from the time. I just hope Samn doesn't notice.

"Don't cry," he rasps, slapping his face with both hands and groaning. "This is a shit—this—this is a pile of—very, very bad things!"

A giggle is going to escape unless I quash it. Which I do—narrowly—and whisper, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, tell me how in the Blacklands we're gonna fix this!" Samn shouts.

"I don't know!" I cry. "Are you going to tell the queen?"

"I don't know what else to do," he groans. "We can't hide this! You couldn't hide it from me, and what do we do if the next person to see it is Darriek? Tigre? That would be the end of Clowd of Thundria!"

"I know!" I snap, some flicker of fight returning to me. "But we can't tell the queen!"

Samn lets out another low, pained cry and paces in a circle, then turns on his heel and points a finger at me. "Tell me everything—everything weird that Clowd's done so far."

I explain about Cindra and the corruption on her knee and how fast he's been growing. Samn nods, then cocks his head.

"That's it?" he demands. "Just the incident with Cindra?"

"Well… the thing about what happened to Cindra is…" I swallow. "Cindra was dying because of the corruption."

Samn freezes. "What?"

"Her life-force was blocked. Life-force isn't just a random word, Samn, life-force is what keeps us alive." I shake my head, sighing. "If Clowd hadn't been able to do god-magic, she would definitely be dead right now."

The thought is sobering, to say the least. Even though I knew as much and she's thriving now, just saying it out loud feels like I ate a brick and it's weighing heavy in my stomach.

"She…" Samn is ashen. "Blessed Starlaxi."

I nod.

I think the whole court would be giving up their lives in an instant to protect Cindra. If it got out that she almost died, Yllowei would have to start beating the court back with her healer's staff to prevent another flood of visitors.

"Clowd saved her life," Samn says slowly.

"Exactly, which is why it's so unfair that—"

"Then the queen will let him stay," he says, sounding utterly convinced. "Are you kidding me? Queen Bluelianna would be doing blood sacrifices every full moon to keep Cindra alive if she thought that's what it would take. If she knew Clowd was the one to save Cindra? She'd let the court be thrown into total chaos to protect Cindra's saviour."

I blink. "You think?"

Samn raises an eyebrow at me, apparently surprised that I don't share his certainty. "Yes. Absolutely. We should tell her. There's no telling if Clowd will do it again and—"

"No," I interrupt. "The risk's too big; on the off-chance that she doesn't do what you're predicting, it's Clowd's life on the line."

Samn's face darkens. "Fiyr, Clowd's life is on the line whether we tell the queen or not. He's done it twice now; by the time he's a squire, who knows what you're going to have to try to explain away? Lady Fuor's not happy about him being near her precious children as it is."

"He saved one of her precious children's lives," I mutter childishly.

"Exactly!" Samn snaps his fingers. "You just need to spread the news that Clowd saved Cindra's life and he'll be the most popular half-breed at court!"

"Don't call him that."

"What am I supposed to call him then?" Samn snorts.

"Clowd."

Samn falls silent for a moment and gives me an appraising look. "You're not going to tell the queen, are you?"
I shake my head, grinding my teeth together. I can't. I can't. I just have to hope that Clowd's old enough to understand that he can't do it out in the open. And that Faern gets the message, too.

It's a risk. But everything's a risk, and I'm not betting on the queen no matter what Samn says. I think he sees it in my face because he scowls and turns on his heel.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. And get rid of this thing." He kicks Clowd's doe on the way past and back into the castle.

As soon as he's gone, I let out a frustrated shout and kick the foliage. What was I supposed to do? Throw myself at the queen's feet and beg her not to kill my nephew? But there's not much I can do. I glance at the doe and sigh, then grab it by the shoulders and drag it behind the castle so it'll be at least partially hidden from view. I'll figure out what to do with that later. I need to—oh, blessed Starlaxi, I need to fix things with Samn before he does something stupid. I need to talk to Clowd, too.

I give the foliage a little apologetic nudge with my foot and hurry back to the castle.

…

"Do you understand?" I ask Clowd as we look at the horizon where a few wisps of clouds have collected. "I wish it was different, buddy, it's just…"

"I get it," Clowd mumbles, swinging his legs under the marble bench we're seated on. I picked the one with the least cracks overgrown with moss, but his movement still shakes a few sprigs loose.

"I'm sorry," I repeat. I think I've said it a dozen times in this conversation, but I can't suppress the guilt that I feel every time my yell from earlier today echoes in my ears. Yes, Fiyr. Yell at the three-year-old. What a flawless plan that was.

"I know." Clowd sighs. "Can I go back inside?"

"Yeah, of course." I watch him go and can't help a sigh of my own. He's way too young to have to deal with my and Prin's mistakes. I wish this wasn't how it had to be.

A little voice inside my head whispers that it didn't have to be this way; that things could be different if I listened to Samn and was honest with the queen about Clowd's abilities. I've already decided I'm not doing that.

"Hang on, Clowd, before you go in," I call, something occurring to me.

"What?" He turns, a hint of mutiny passing along his face as I stand and cross the pavilion toward him.

"Since Cindra, have you been able to remove corruption from things?" I ask. Because if he can remove corruption from her knee, maybe he could remove it…

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

Hope flickering to life in my chest, I take a deep and ask, "Show me? Can you take it out of the doe you caught?"

He shrugs but allows himself to be steered over to the north side of the castle where I stashed the deer. I still haven't decided what to do with it; it's a bloody dagger when it comes to Clowd's god-magic, but I don't want to deprive him of the pride of his first catch.

Clowd glances down at the doe and then back up at me. "You didn't take it to the kitchens?"

Doesn't he understand? "I can't; they'd ask questions if they saw the corruption."

At last, he makes the connection. "You want me to take it away so they don't see what I do."

"Yes. I'm really impressed that you caught a doe, and I want to share your accomplishment with the court, it's just… just hard," I explain.

"Okay. I'll try." His round blue eyes have a serious cast beyond his years and my heart aches for a second, remembering what it was to take on an identity you didn't understand.

Clowd shuts his eyes and kneels next to the deer, then places his hands on its still flanks. I'm struck by how much he looks like a life-force user as he concentrates, but he's still a child of the court; he shouldn't be able to use life-force (never mind that it's not really life-force) until he's a squire.

All the same, he makes it look like the most natural thing in the world and I can't bring myself to shift into the Trace and come to grips with the foreignity of the act. With surprising ease, the spikes of corruption shrink and retract into the deer's body until they're out of sight, then a few moments later, I feel a certain tension leave the air. When I check the Trace, the trace of Clowd's strange half-god, half-life-force magic hangs heavy around the deer, but the corruption is gone. I just hope that whoever's on kitchen duty won't question it too much.

The doe was actually secondary to my line of questioning, though. While I'm glad that Clowd will be recognized for the fact that he made his first kill at the age of three, the more important information is that Clowd might be able to get rid of the Creeping Corruption.

Whatever Samn says about Cindra, I know that this could be the bolt that makes the lock on Clowd's position at court stay locked. The Creeping Corruption has been… well, creeping into Thundria's territory for years; the gods are careless with their magic and it sucks life-force out of the neighbouring forest. It might have been going on for centuries, but things will change if Clowd's ability can be applied to it.

Thundria's never had a half-god; no matter how hard the elders and Darriek and whoever argue that that's the way that it should stay, he might be able to help in ways that we haven't considered. It's time to talk to the queen.

I bring the deer into the kitchen, Clowd strutting along next to me and glowing with pride, and breathe out when I see that Brindellia Faise is the one on kitchen duty. She seems five years younger now that Faern and Clowd are safely back at court and I wave to her over the body of the deer.

"Wow! Where'd that come from?" she greets me, eyeing it appreciatively.

"Ask him," I advise, jerking my thumb toward Clowd, who is now glowing with pride. Lady Faise raises an eyebrow and looks down at her foster son, who grins.

"I just caught it while I was out," he declares in a hilarious attempt at nonchalance, leaning against one of the counters like a miniature knight. I stifle a snort.

"While you were out? You were breaking the law, young man, I hope you recall," she scolds, but even she can't resist as her lips twitch up into a smile. "That's… very impressive. But don't do it again. At least not until you're some poor knight's problem."

Clowd pshaws and waves one chubby little hand in a shooing motion. I swallow more giggles at the blatant imitation of behaviour he's doubtlessly picked up from other knights at court.

Brindellia and I exchange a wry glance over his head, then the lady of the court suggests, "Why don't you help me get it onto the counter so we can clean it? I'm sure your uncle's very busy."

Busy securing him a place at court, I finish silently, but give her an airy smile and wave at Clowd on my way out of the kitchen. "See you later!"

I take a deep breath and head for Queen Bluelianna's chambers, but I'm stopped halfway across the throne room by the queen herself.

"I was just looking for you, Your Majesty." I bow, trying to squash the butterflies in my stomach and rallying my arguments.

"Likewise, Sir Harte," she answers, dismissing my bow and waving in a follow-me motion, then sets off toward her private chambers.

What? Why was she looking for me? She already gave Clowd and Faern a stern talking-to about the laws surrounding ranks, so what could this be about? Unless she found out about him somehow. But I already have a trump card for why he needs to stay at court, and anyways, she couldn't possibly know about him unless—Oh no. I desperately hope that it's not what I'm thinking.

"About Clowd," she begins, and my stomach drops into my boots, "Samn told me—is something wrong?"

That bastard! "I—I'm sorry, no, please… continue?" I swallow back my rage and try to listen to the queen. I'm going to throw him off a tree. A very tall tree.

"He told me that Clowd could perform god-magic." She pauses meaningfully and I nod, trying to look suitably scared of her and not like I want to storm out of this room and shout at Samn until his ears retract into his head. "And also that he saved Cindra's life."

I nod again. "My queen, he—"

"Allow me to finish, Fiyr," she interrupts gently, laying a hand on my shoulder. I'm unnerved by the realization that I'm now taller than her. It seems wrong. "Clowd must learn obedience and restraint. He is not to use his magic unsupervised; it could lead to dire consequences if he makes a mistake. I know what I said about his magic when he first came, but in light of the events surrounding Cindra's recovery…"

The smallest bit of hope pipes up in a sea of anger directed at Samn. "Yes, my queen. Can—can he stay? I found out that… something else—I think he can stop the Creeping Corruption. Or at least slow it down."

Her gray eyebrows arch. "Really?"

I nod vehemently. "He's shown the capacity to remove god-magic as well as form it. I think he can help."

She blinks, then nods as well. "I see. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I am certain you would have spoken to me as well had Samn not gotten here first. Correct, Sir Harte?"

You will not hide anything from me again. I hear her loud and clear. "Yes, my queen."

"I'm glad to hear it. Dismissed."

I bow and walk as casually out of the queen's chambers as I can manage before dropping the act and storming toward the squire's wing. Beelining for Samn's nook, I rip open the curtain with no warning.

"For fuck's sake!" Samn shouts, springing out of his bed and yanking it closed again. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking, ass-hat?"

"Samn, what are you doing?!" I yell into the curtain, trying to push the image of Samn half-tangled in sheets out of my mind before my brain gets any ideas about keeping it around. "You went to the queen behind my back!"

"Let's talk about this another time!" Samn shouts back. We could be speaking at a reasonable volume and be able to hear each other fine, but I'm too mad for that to be possible and Samn's not going to be the one backing down.

"I think we're going to talk about it now!" I snap. He can't just almost ruin Clowd's life and then go for a midday nap! "Come out of there!"

"I can't!" Samn shouts back, sounding a little panicked.

"Why?" The yelling is getting silly. But I'll be damned if I'm going to quiet down first.

"I—I'm sick!"

"What?!" Of all the terrible, nonsense excuses he could be pulling to avoid this conversation, he's going with 'I'm sick'?! "You expect me to believe that you contracted some kind of illness between us going out to find Faern and Clowd this morning and now?! Bullshit! Come out of there, now!"

"No, I've been sick for—I mean—go away!" Samn shouts.

"Not until you explain why in the name of the Starlaxi you thought it was okay to go talk to the queen against my explicit wishes!" I bellow.

There's no answer from Samn, just rattling and the swish-swish of sheets against each other.

"Come out now or I'm pulling the curtain open again!" I threaten.

"Don't!" Samn yelps.

"Three, two..." I begin, drawing out the countdown.

"I'm naked in here!" he finally snaps.

"You're what?!" My voice hits a high note I didn't know it could reach. "You weren't naked before!"

"I took off my clothes!"

"Why?! This is not the time to get naked!"

"Go away!" Samn shouts.

"We need to talk!" I insist, my hands tugging at my hair in an ineffectual attempt to drive the flush out of my cheeks.

"Some. Other. Time!" he yells.

"Fine!" I finally give in, knowing he's not going to come out and that I need to give up for now. But he's crazy if he thinks he'll get out of this conversation with some half-baked excuse about being sick and taking his clothes off while I yell at him.

I storm out of his nook and nearly run down Brakken, who's standing in the doorway and staring at me.

"Wha…" he begins. I shake my head. He nods slowly. "Okay. See you."

"See you," I grind out and dash up to my room in the knight's wing to escape everything. I take back what I said earlier; now sounds like a great time for a midday nap. I didn't even realize how tightly-strung I was until I kick off my boots, flop onto my bed, and drop my head onto the pillow. I am not dealing with the world right now.

I stretch and roll over, staring up at the ceiling and contemplate getting out of bed and getting into proper sleepclothes, then just slowly drift off instead.

…

"Come on, Fiyr, I wanna see if I can catch it," Clowd announces, slowly advancing on the boar that stares at us with beady eyes, its tusks moving slightly in tandem with its breaths.

"Be careful, Clowd," I tell my half-god nephew. But he hardly needs the warning; he's taller than I am, nearly twice as wide and built of iron muscle and a silver smile. "Just be careful, please."

He's ignoring me, but I have to teach him obedience! If I can't teach him to listen to his superiors, the queen won't let him stay at court! He's going to get sent back to the gods!

"Relax, Fiyr."

It's a voice, the sound of which I'd almost forgotten. The voice that I've never heard outside my dreams.

I turn around and the old captain of Thundria's guard is standing in front of me. He gives me a smile and a little nod.

"Sir Tayle," I mumble.

"You've grown," he remarks, still smiling. "I'm glad to see you again, but… I'm afraid it's not good news. I've brought you a warning from the Starlaxi."

"You—you have?" It's not about Clowd, is it? I fret.

"There are gathering storm clouds on the horizon, Fiyr," he whispers. "Beware the knight you cannot trust."

Cannot. Trust. The words seem to echo around me and Sir Tayle begins to fade. "Wait! Sir Tayle, I—"

He's gone.

"Fiyr."

I turn around again and my heart stops in my chest. Clowd is bent over the boar and gazes up at me with black eyes, pools of void, his too-perfect face splattered with the blood of the animal.

Spikes of corruption stick out of the boar and, to my horror, as Clowd turns further toward me I see that they're also jutting out of his chest.

"Fee, I caught it," he growls, a guttural sound emerging from him before black blood bubbles out of where the corruption is embedded in his chest. He coughs, the not-blood dribbling down his chin, then lets out a cry that rises in pitch until it's a bone-chilling scream—

Thud.

…

I snap awake in a cold sweat. My room is dark; the castle's torches are out for the night. Looks like my midday nap turned into an evening nap. My stomach growls.

Thud.

There it is again! I sit up in bed and swing my legs over the edge. The stone is cold under the soles of my feet but I pay it no mind. I listen patiently, poised on the edge of my bed, until another thud sounds from my left.

Oh. A strange emptiness yawns inside me as I realize. It's Graie. Back from meeting Silaverre, no doubt. My shoulders slacken and I sit, staring at my feet as my eyes slowly adjust to the gloom. One of my socks must have come off in bed. I don't feel like flailing around searching for it.

Thud.

Suddenly, Sir Tayle's words come back to me in a rush. Beware the knight you cannot trust. I hear Graie's muffled swearing, then silence. He couldn't mean… no…

I push myself off the bed and leave my room, creeping silently down the hallway to the staircase and descending into the throne room. Blinking in the darkness, I make my way across the room, pressing my lips together as each cold stone slab makes contact with my bare foot.

Once I make it to the heavy doors, I pause. I should go to bed. But I'm wide awake and I know that after that nap, I'm not going to be getting back to sleep for a while. I grab the handle of the door and pull it open.

A cool breeze gusts past me into the throne room and I step out slowly. The stars glitter overhead and the pale moon hangs behind bits of cloud. The pavilion below is faintly lit, but it's visible enough that it gives me pause when I see the faintest line of a silhouette on one of the benches.

"Hello?" I call softly, my voice sounding almost insubstantial in the night air.

The silhouette moves and even though I can't see the figure well, I have a sneaking suspicion I know who it is. No, that's ridiculous. Why would he be here? Now?

"Fiyr?"

I sigh. I guess we're having the conversation now. "Samn."

"Can't sleep?"

"No. You either?"

"Nope.
I sigh and then cross the pavilion toward him. Samn pats the bench next to him and I sit, feeling tense and melancholy at the same time, somehow.

"The sickness keeping you up?" I ask, a hint of scorn in my voice.

To my utter shock, Samn lays his head on my shoulder and leans against me, sighing. "Don't be like that. I know I was acting weird earlier… sorry. Just—had to deal with something."

His hair tickles my neck and I sit very, very still and try to concentrate on what he's saying. "That's okay."

"Why are you awake? 'Cause it's a full moon?" he laughs with an edge of delirium.

"Uh, what's with you?" I ask, my teeth tightening as he laughs again, a sound that hits my soul.

"On poppy seeds," he informs me. "For pain."

"What pain?" I cast a nervous look over him, half-expecting to see blood trickling down his forearm that lies dangerously close to my thigh.

"Hmm-hmm, can't tell you," he sing-songs.

I let out an incredulous laugh. "Alright. But—but I'm still mad about you talking to Queen Bluelianna behind my back."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he mumbles, burying his face in the space between my neck and shoulder. I turn to stone as his nose brushes across my neck and warm breath touches the space left behind. "Don't be mad. I just wanted to help Clowd."

"I—I—know, but you—" I stammer. "You should've asked."

"I did ask." Samn giggles.

"And I said no!" I protest. "Please respect what I say next time."

Samn pulls away and wags his finger at me. "And you didn't tell me about Clowd's magic. Bad, bad, very bad."

I press back a laugh and shake my head. "I know, I'm sorry. I'll be better."

He softens and leans against me again. I can feel his ribs as he breathes in and out slowly and for a moment the frustration leaves my body and I just listen to him breathe.

"I don't like fighting with you," Samn confesses in a half-coherent mumble. I'm almost certain it's the poppy seeds talking by now.

"Me neither," I agree softly. He turns his face up towards mine and blinks, guileless green eyes pulling me in, then he cradles my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. Melting, I embrace him and squeeze closer to him on the bench.

For a few minutes, I don't think about Graie, or Sir Tayle, or Clowd, or the queen, or Sir Cawle. Tomorrow, everything will change, but in this moment…

We are here, together.

Thank you for reading chapter 18! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!

~Akila