Page 122 of The Half King
“Then go to him,” Kian told Daerick. “Hire a private ship if you have to. Take as much from the treasury as you need.”
“Let’s send word to my old temple, too,” Cerise said. “The Reverend Mother foresaw something like this. She probably knows what’s coming, but we should warn her anyway.”
“I’ll handle it,” Daerick said.
Kian clapped him on the shoulder. “Safe journey.”
“Just one thing first,” Daerick said, turning his attention to Cerise. He smiled at her warmly and wrapped one arm around her in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “You saved me from a lifetime of torment, and I know what it cost you. I can never repay my debt to you, but I can make sure every noble family in the realm knows that you’re the one who broke their curse.”
She returned his hug while tears of gratitude welled in her eyes. She’d been so focused on what she had lost that she hadn’t seen all she’d gained. Daerick was restored, and Kian, and General Petros, and all of the other noble firstborns who had suffered for the crimes of their ancestors. They were all free because of her, and so was the realm—free from the old ways of the Order. She had done more than one thing right.
“I can’t take all the praise,” she told Daerick. “I had a good teacher.”
Sometime later, Cerise and Kian snuck into the hedge maze and hid themselves away in the secret courtyard at the center. They sat side by side on a stone bench facing the fountain, and as Cerise rested her head on Kian’s shoulder, she thought of all the nights they had spent in the shadows, sitting on a dark replica of that same stone bench. She would miss their quiet hours together but not that place. She shivered just to imagine it.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Kian said. “I was waiting for the right time, and now that we’ve had a chance to slow down and catch our breath, I think you’ll be happy to hear it.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s something I saw in the underworld, right before you broke the curse,” he said. “I was walking in the labyrinth, pacing away the hours, much like any other night. I passed the souls of the damned, and they didn’t see me. They never did. And then, out of nowhere, all of them vanished. Every last soul that I could see was gone, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “And then I blinked, and I was standing next to you in the sanctuary. I didn’t understand what was happening at the time, but now I think I do.”
Cerise peered up at him, hope stirring in her chest. “Their souls are free?”
“So it seems,” he said. “Free from a thousand years of torment. You wondered why you were able to follow me into the shadows, and now we know what purpose your gift served. I believe your presence there had something to do with their release.”
“Iamhappy to hear that,” she told him. More than happy. The souls of the Mortara firstborns never should have been trapped at all. Only the priests and the nobles with whom they had colluded deserved to be punished, and not even forever. “I suppose we were right about the replica of the courtyard in the underworld.” She glanced around them. “This must have been where it happened all those centuries ago—where the priests and the Mortaras met.”
“Undoubtedly,” Kian said. He shifted on the bench and then winced in pain, massaging his knee. “Damnation. I almost forgot how long it takes for an injury to heal. I might need your help with this, if you don’t mind. It hurts more than anything else.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” She was glad he had finally asked. She held a palm above his leg and willed her energy to mend his flesh.
He tested his knee, moving it to and fro.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much. Thank you, my love.”
She laced their fingers together and warned, “Be careful; you don’t get a new body at sunrise anymore. This one has to last, and I’m rather attached to it.”
“Are you?” he asked. He made a show of pondering her advice before he delivered a mockingly serious look. “Well, in that case, I’m afraid I have to rescind my offer to let you stab me in the heart.”
That made her smile. “A pity I missed my chance.”
“Indeed,” he said, then added atsk. “Those who hesitate are lost.”
She leaned aside to scan his body for visible signs of damage. “Are you hurt anywhere else? I’m getting better at healing, I think.”
“I don’t want to drain you.”
“You won’t,” she told him, and then she explained what Nero had taught her about accessing her supply of magic. “My magic is like a flagon of water. The energy is there, but I can’t use it all at once. I can only draw from what’s in my cup. Last night, I drained every last drop. That’s why I was exhausted. But today, my cup is almost full again.”
Kian made a noise of contemplation. “So in what way does love make your gift stronger? Does it increase the volume of the flagon or the cup?”
“Both, I think. But it’s hard to know.”
“Then yes,” he said. “You may heal me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, may I?”
