Whispers of Yesterday - Chapter Seventeen
Oct. 17th, 2012 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Apologies for the lateness of this are simply insufficient. *sigh* If there are any readers still hanging around, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I swear I haven't forgotten about this fic!
Title: Whispers of Yesterday
Series: Infinity's End, Book Two
Warnings: smut, het smut, hints to slashy goodness, violence, language, character death
Description: Now firmly entrenched in the Theravada -- and firmly involved with Gale as well -- Ione discovers the hidden sides of both Grayshire and Theravada. She questions her own decisions -- and her feelings -- as the war takes on a more murderous, personal turn for the worst.
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Chapter Seventeen
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Ione woke from an unpleasant sleep with rather pleasant sensations rippling warmly through her body. Someone’s nice hand was stroking down her back, from the crown of her head, over the back of her neck, down her spine, to her buttocks. And then back again. It was very soothing and arousing both, making Ione’s body thrum with desire. If she were a cat, she would have started purring already, arching into the stroking touch.
Of course, just because she was drowsy didn’t mean Ione didn’t recognize the owner of the hand. Her suspicions were confirmed when lips appeared at her ear with a puff of warm breath.
“Morning,” Gale murmured, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her ear, a place he had discovered to be particularly sensitive. Though Ione strongly suspected he’d gotten a tip from Malcolm, either willingly or unwillingly.
Ione hummed in the back of her throat. “Keep doing that and it’ll be a good morning,” she said teasingly, wriggling against the covers. She could feel Gale’s heat draped near her back, his lips tracing the curve of her neck and throat as his hand continued the lovely stroking.
It was always nice to be woken like this.
Gale chuckled and nibbled at her ear, making her squirm. His warm palm, long and elegant fingers, settled warmly on her hip as he pressed against her from behind, aligning their bodies. Ione could feel his thickening length settle against her buttocks, a warm weight.
“I take it you’re no longer mad at me?” Ione asked, shifting into the curve of his body.
“I’m quite furious,” Gale retorted, and teeth clamped on her ear teasingly.
“Would an apology help?”
“Depends on how it’s given.”
Ione grinned, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Former virgin and social wet blanket Gale might be, but he was no different than any other hot-blooded male. Apologetic blow jobs were the perfect way to gain forgiveness.
She shifted her hips, pushing them back to rub against Gale’s growing erection. His fingers flexed on her hip in appreciation, humming in the back of her throat.
Frantic knocking at the door broke through Ione’s pleasant haze and she jerked, staring hatefully at the wooden panel. Gale groaned and knocked his head back against the pillow.
“Does it ever bother you that we can’t seem to get a moment’s peace?” Ione wondered aloud, resisting the urge to throw herself back onto the bed and pull the comforter over her head.
“I’m beginning to suspect everyone has a sixth sense for the best time to interrupt,” Gale grumbled, and slid out of bed, long fingers reaching for the robe crumpled at the side of the bed.
More knocking came, faster and louder this time, more urgent.
“We’re coming!” Ione hollered, and rolled over her side of the bed, placing bare feet on the cold stone. She shivered briefly, casting about for some sort of covering. She didn’t mind being nude, but Gale wasn’t a big fan of her lack of modesty.
The only thing in reach was one of Gale’s tunics, so Ione pulled that on, the fabric long enough to fall to her knees. Damn, but her lover was long in the torso. Which served her well here but was something odd to suddenly realize.
Gale snickered as Ione nearly tripped over her own feet in search of some kind of pants or leggings. She was appropriately covered, but it was starting to get rather cold. A second layer would be nice.
Without waiting, Gale opened the door to see who was on the other side. In the middle of tugging on a pair of trousers, Ione didn’t see who it was.
“Ione? I think it’s for you.”
She rolled her eyes, expecting either Malcolm or Kieran. But when Ione rounded the end of the bed, she saw neither. Her breath caught in her throat as her jaw dropped.
“Ghaith?” she exclaimed in surprise as Gale pushed open the door and stepped aside, letting her uncle’s brother walk into the room.
Like Kieran, Ghaith wore glasses and the gleam of light on the lenses concealed eyes that Ione knew to mirror Kieran’s – a grayish, green shade. He was tall, thin, with a perpetual frown and a dark cast to his face. He was dressed atypical, lacking the usual overrobe of the Jeode, and instead wearing something more common – simple trousers and a tunic.
“What are you doing here?” Ione demanded, finding herself at a loss for words. More than what was also how and why?
He reached up, adjusting his glasses with one finger, pushing them further up his aristocratic nose. “I have something important to tell you. Something that I fear is not good news.”
Ione shook her head, still not registering his presence. “But… how? You’re a member of the Theravada? Since when?”
“You know him?” Gale asked, surprised, understandably wary as he moved a few steps backward to stand at Ione’s side defensively.
“Of course she does,” Ghaith said, and his gaze flicked up and down Gale’s appearance before he gave a shallow bow. “Greetings, Lord Arlen. Until now, I had no reason to believe idle rumor that you were a part of the rebels, but now the proof is before me.”
Yes, it was definitely Ghaith here. Only he walked the perfect line of chilly politeness, rude without meaning to be, the perfect contrast and opposite of his brother.
“Please, don’t do that,” Gale said, fighting back a flush of embarrassment. “I’m lord of nothing.”
Ghaith straightened, cocking his head to the side. “Are you so sure of that? Lady Zephyr might carry the Arlen head at the moment, but I’m not so certain your return wouldn’t be lauded, despite your obvious political leanings.”
Ione cut a hand through the air, hoping to dispel it before they were sidetracked. “Wait a minute, before we get into that. You never answered my question.”
Those cold eyes flickered her direction. “I’ve always known how to find my brother, Ione. As you know, the Azura have remained neutral in the war. I never saw fit to inform the late Commander Celestine of his location. It wasn’t relevant.”
“You mean he didn’t ask,” Ione retorted, rolling her eyes. She should have known. Ghaith rarely acted in any other interest, claiming a complete lack of interest in anything but his own aspirations, goals, and experiments.
“Wait. Brother?” Gale inserted, obviously confused and unable to put two and two together. Considering that Ghaith was both taller than his brother, with cropped brown hair and much younger, Ione wasn’t surprised. That and the fact they were complete opposites in temperament.
Ione gestured with her hand. “Gale, meet Ghaith, Kieran’s younger and only brother.”
Gale’s eyebrows sought to mate with his hairline. “You’re kidding.”
“I only wish I were,” Ghaith said with a sigh, and reached up, removing his glasses to wipe the lenses on his tunic. He held the spectacles up to the light, looking through them for marks and smudges before seemingly satisfied with their appearance. “Brother is an… odd one.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Quetz said, slithering out of her coil of blankets to rejoin Gale, never one to carry herself when Gale was perfectly willing to do it for her.
Ghaith blinked, looking between the black snake and the former noble. “Another rumor confirmed. You’ve bonded with the forest spirits.”
“Who are not demons by the way,” Ione clarified for Ghaith’s benefit. “Kieran has one as well. You should see him, you know. He worries about you.”
“When does he not?” Ghaith returned his glasses to their rightful position. “But I didn’t come here to talk about my brother. I came here to talk to you. And warn you.”
Something clenched inside Ione’s chest. She didn’t like Ghaith’s serious tone – not that he had a playful one. She didn’t like his sudden and random appearance here, not after what had happened last night with Grayshire and Azriel.
She crossed her arms over his chest. “Warn us?”
Ghaith’s eyes flickered briefly to Gale. “I’m sure you’re already aware that Lord Celestine was attacked and killed last night. Grayshire was quick to finger the Theravada as the perpetrators.”
“Which wouldn’t exactly be a lie,” Gale said quietly, shame coloring his cheeks.
“Yes, well, truth or lie, that’s not the point,” Ghaith commented, and flicked a hand through his hair, as though annoyed a single strand had gotten out of place. “That particular move proved to be reckless in more ways than one. They know, Ione. They know where Paragon is. And they’re coming.”
Ione felt the blood drain from her face as the whole world seemed to stop with that simple statement. “They… what?”
She heard Gale echo her disbelief, could see his face going white, the disturbance rippling through his aether. Ione’s own was frazzled, buzzing tightly around her body. She went hot and cold all over her body, breaking out into chills.
Ghaith sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You were seen,” he clarified. “Seen and followed by a very determined member of the Special Ops. They tracked you back here. How long do you think Grayshire will wait to mount a full scale attack?”
“They won’t hesitate,” Ione said with sudden understanding, her breathing short and rapid. “They’ll call every free hand, every free weapon. They’ll attack in full force.” Her head whipped up, fear and despair etched into their face. “They won’t have mercy. They’ll kill everyone.”
Ghaith inclined his head. “Grayshire won’t care about prisoners. They’ll wipe out every member of the Theravada, burn each person out of this place like rats. It’ll be a slaughter.”
Ione shook her head, still trying to process the terrible news. “We have to tell everyone. We have to warn them. Evacuate. Get everyone out of here.” Her legs started moving before she could fully comprehend the consequences, the utter truth.
“Ione.”
Gale’s voice stopped her in her tracks. She whirled to face him, and Ghaith as well, both of whom were watching her.
“There’s more,” Ghaith said, and for the first time, he fidgeted. He was uncomfortable. Whatever he had to say was worse than an impending invasion on Paragon.
Ione swallowed thickly. “More?”
Ghaith closed his eyes, briefly taking a breath. “It’s about your father, Ione. He’s gone.”
“Gone?” Ione repeated, and took a step forward, on legs that suddenly wanted to wobble. “What do you mean gone? As in missing?” She let out a laugh that wasn’t amused. “That Souya… he’s always wandering away. Should put a tracker on him or something.”
Ghaith’s eyes fell to the floor, confirming her worst fear. “The official statement is that there was a robbery or something. He tried to stop them and was killed.” His jaw firmed and when he looked up, there was a fury dancing in his gaze. “They claim that it was the Theravada.”
“Impossible,” Gale hissed, hands forming into fists at his side. “We wouldn’t do something like that.”
“W… what?” Ione couldn’t breathe.
Dead. Her father was… dead? Her stupid, loving, crazy father… someone had killed him? No, not just someone. It wasn’t a robbery. Ione wasn’t stupid. Her father was like her, strong, blessed with aether. He was the one who taught her martial arts. There was no way a simple thief could take him down. It was impossible.
She swayed where she stood, legs refusing to support her weight, and Ione dropped down to her knees.
Dimly, someone called her name. There was a hot prickle at the back of her eyes as her hands pressed flat against the floor, nails scraping against the stone.
Dead. They’d killed him. Grayshire had killed him.
Why?
Because of her? Because of the rebels? Because of what happened to Asher Celestine? Was it retribution? Was it her fault?
Ione couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her heart was hammering in her chest, trying to break through her ribcage. She felt swallowed in cotton. She couldn’t hear or see. Her body felt heavy, encased in metal, leaden.
Souya was dead. It had to be her fault. Grayshire was furious that she’d betrayed them. That she’d killed Anisa and probably helped Dharva vanish as well. Grayshire must have done it for some reason. Because of Ione. Because of her bad decision.
“Ione!”
Warm fingers cupped her face, forced her to look into bright green eyes. She blinked, lips moving but no words emerging. Her father was dead. Dead. Because of her.
Something furry brushed against her right side, a familiar aether tangling with her own. Fenris. He nudged his head against her shoulder, wet nose poking against her neck. Comforting. Familiar. Like home. Home where Souya wasn’t anymore.
“He’s dead,” Ione choked out. “They killed him because of me.”
“You don’t know that,” Gale insisted, his face so abysmally pale it must have reflected her own.
Ione sucked in a breath, her lungs aching. “What else could it be?” she demanded. “We’re nothing. Not important to anything. We’re commoners!”
“That’s… not entirely accurate,” Ghaith inserted much to her surprise. Even more so when Fenris echoed his statement in eerie syncopation.
Ione’s eyes shifted to Ghaith, hardening. “What do you mean?” she demanded, something beginning to stir in her gut. Something icy and burning hot, laced with sharp needles, and twisting through her insides. “What the hell are you talking about, Ghaith? What do you know that I don’t? What other secrets have been hidden from me?”
She’s practically shouting at the last, throwing herself to her feet as though Ghaith was the one to blame. Something was screaming inside of her, arms flailing, burning with desire to attack, to tear down. Her hands balled into fists, squeezing tight and tight, fingers leaving impressions in her palm.
Gale’s hands grabbed her shoulders, holding her back. She hadn’t intended to attack Ghaith, but it must have seemed that way.
Ghaith didn’t blink, just adjusted his glasses again. “Your mother, Lilah, is actually Lyra Dryden, and a very important person amongst the nobility.”
Incomprehension flooded Ione’s thoughts. “I… what?”
“They didn’t kill Souya because of you,” Ghaith explained, and rubbed his temples as though this whole conversation was an annoyance to him. “The Dryden wanted your mother to return to them. When she refused, they sent a message in blood. And Grayshire used that to conveniently stir up more hatred for the Theravada.”
If Ghaith intended to comfort her, he failed. It didn’t matter what inevitably caused Souya’s death. The fact remained that someone had killed her father. Killed Souya. And the last time Ione had seen him was almost two years ago. Two years since she’d dodged one of his attacks or let him swamp her in a manly hug or tease her about Malcolm. Two years since she’d stood in the living room, listening to both her parents warn her to be careful. A warning Ione had failed to properly heed.
She was sure she was shaking. “The Dryden did it,” she repeated lowly, trying to recall what she could of the noble family. They were low on the totem pole of nobility, but still high class and powerful. They were the lawmakers, the proponents of justice.
Ione snorted. Justice. Right. She was sure their idea of justice was enough to justify killing her father. She didn’t know why they wanted her mother – by Diana, Ione was part Dryden. That thought burned. – back. Ione didn’t care. They were going to burn.
Gale’s hands were a welcome pressure on her shoulders, grounding her, reminding her that he was there. That she wasn’t alone. But it did nothing for the anger coiling tighter and tighter inside of her. Ione had thought she hate Grayshire before. Her previous disgust had only touched the tip of the loathing that now stirred.
“Ione…” If Gale thought to comfort her, to say something to ease the pain of her father’s loss, Ione would never know. Before the words could even leave his lips, she felt something stir in the air. Like a warning, an oncoming rush of aether, primeval and powerful. Familiar, not human.
Fenris leapt for the door, darting out into the hallway where he pounced on a streak of white just as it shot past the door. Ione gaped, Gale stared, and Ghaith seemed nonplussed as the wolf came trotting back inside, a small form squirming between his teeth.
He spat his prey onto the ground and Ione blinked at the familiar sight. The white creature was a rabbit, and not just any rabbit, but Kalulu. Ione would recognize the telltale rings around the rabbit’s eyes anywhere.
“Fenris… why did you…?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” the wolf demanded, a low growl in his voice that Ione hadn’t heard before. He sounded angry, as though he wanted to commit violence this very moment. “You want to know why I’ve been missing? Why you haven’t seen me? It’s because I’ve been helping Sabriel and Anubis.”
Ione stared at Kalulu, failing to comprehend. She hadn’t known Fenris had been helping Sabriel. She hadn’t even a clue. Sabriel had devoted himself to finding the traitor, the one that had revealed secrets about Grayshire.
Did that mean…?
On the floor, Kalulu sniffled, huddling in a small white ball, shivering, but not trying to run. She looked miserable, but not terrified, despite being in a wolf’s mouth not but seconds before. Her blue eyes were limpid and pleading, her large ears lying flat against her head as though she had been chastised.
“Kalulu,” Ione said gently, a sick feeling building inside of her. “What’s Fenris talking about?”
Kalulu shook so hard that Ione feared her bones were knocking together before she broke into an abrupt wail. “I didn’t know, Ione. I swear I didn’t know!” she sobbed, fat tears dripping from her big blue eyes.
Ione went cold. “What did you do?”
“Betrayed us,” Fenris hissed, hunched low to the ground as he glared at Kalulu, teeth bared as though wanting to rend her limb from limb. “She’s the one who told them we would be in Varos. She’s the reason Helene died.”
Silence fell, so hard that Ione swore she could hear her own heart beating.
On her short list of those who could have betrayed them, Ione would have never expected this. Not from Kalulu. The little rabbit was so timid, hardly ever found from Talya’s skirts.
“Why?” Ione asked, crestfallen. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t know they were going to hurt you,” she cried, looking up at Ione pleadingly. “I was only trying to protect Azriel. He doesn’t know what kind of man Kieran really is. How dangerous that man is. I swear I didn’t know they were going to hurt you, Ione. I swear.”
Ione felt at a loss for words, suddenly losing the ability to breathe again. Gale’s hands fell from her shoulders as he stepped past her, glaring down at the small rabbit.
“You were trying to get rid of Kieran?” Gale said, aghast. “Why?”
Quetz poked her head out of Gale’s tunic, looking down at the cowering rabbit. “I don’t understand, Kalulu. Why would you betray Kieran?”
The rabbit quivered before suddenly drawing up straight, her blue eyes determined. “Because he’s no good. He’s done things, terrible things. He’s no good for Azriel. Azriel deserves better!”
“I can’t believe you would so something like this,” Quetz said, disappointed and saddened. “How could you? Kieran belongs to Gwydion!”
But it seemed Kalulu was through explaining herself. She clammed up, refusing to say anything else, looking up at them defiantly. She truly believed she had made the right decision.
“What else have you told them?” Fenris demanded, yellow eyes narrowed. A growl was building low in his throat, threatening. “What else have you given them?”
“Nothing. I swear!” Kalulu cried, her aether swimming around her body, agitated and alarmed, but resolute as well. “I would never give them Azriel. I would never give them Paragon. It’s all we have left!”
By we, Ione could only assume that Kalulu meant either Talya or the other forest spirits. Since Fenris had asked the question, Ione leaned toward the latter.
“But it doesn’t matter anymore,” Kalulu said, and fat tears rolled from her eyes, dampening the floor where they dripped. “They found us anyway. They’re coming here. Soon. I couldn’t stop them.”
As if to confirm her words, the world around Ione suddenly rocked violently, nearly throwing her from her feet. She struggled to keep her balance as the sound of an explosion split the hazy afternoon, along with the rush of a powerful aether, blazing heat and fury.
Kalulu let out a great wail of terror and bounded out the door before any one of them could stop her, though Fenris was quick to give chase. Ione ignored the rabbit for the moment – the damage had already been done after all – and raced to the window. Her legs still felt a bit like jelly, but the terror knocking at her heart couldn’t be ignored. She wrestled with the shutters until she could throw them open, a wash of early autumn breeze slapping her in the face.
They were high enough up that at first, all Ione could see was a literal sea of green and brown and red, the trees already changing with oncoming autumn. She could smell smoke however, the bitter tang of a magical attack. The press of aether was stronger with the windows open, growing louder and more terrifying with each passing moment. Of the enemy she could see nothing but--
“Ione!”
Arms wrapped around her, tackling her to the ground, mere seconds before an invisible wave of aether slammed against the side of the Whispering Cliffs, just to the right of where Ione’s head had been sticking out the window. Debris rained down, shards of rock exploding in all directions, some careening through the open window where it promptly pinged against a magical barrier. Ghaith’s, Ione supposed, since neither she nor Gale were the most skilled at defensive magic and she knew Kieran excelled at it.
Trust Gale to have more magical sense than her. He must have felt the invisible wave coming. There were few in the Brigade capable of such an attack. Ione could only think of one or two, and the prospect of facing either was not pretty.
“They’re already here,” Ione said, swallowing thickly, as she untangled herself from Gale’s arms. She coughed at the cloud of dust as it wafted into their room, her heart hammering in her chest. “We have to warn the others.”
“I’m sure they already know,” Ghaith said, his voice perfectly neutral.
Ione felt the prickle of magic being used die down as Ghaith’s barrier fell, no longer needed at the moment. He’d always been one to conserve his energies whenever possible.
“Yes, but we have to help in the evacuation. People will panic,” Gale said with a scowl. Apparently, he wasn’t all too impressed with Ghaith.
Not an impossible feat. Ghaith tended to have that effect on everyone. He took after his father so much it was frightening. And easy to see that either Kieran resembled his departed mother to an absurd extent, or had been adopted into the Azura family.
On his feet, Gale was already reaching for his sword. Ione looked down at herself, at her mismatched outfit, but there really wasn’t any time to search for something to serve her better. Grayshire’s attacking force wouldn’t wait for a wardrobe change. So she slid her sockless feet into her boots, snagged a hair tie from the dresser, and pulled the loose strands out of her eyes.
Another violent explosion split the air, the force of it enough to make Ione stagger again. She almost didn’t want to know what Grayshire was using that was powerful enough to make a cliff of stone shudder. If Grayshire had found Paragon, they’d no doubt already discovered the base floor entrance. Kieran’s barriers were strong, but even they would fall under a repeated onslaught. Paragon had minutes, at best, before her hallways were flooded with the enemy.
“Are you with us?” Ione asked Ghaith directly, sliding a sash around her waist and knotting it at the side to control the looseness of Gale’s tunic.
“I’m not against you, if that’s what you mean,” Ghaith retorted, and adjusted his glasses with a sniff. “I have a message to deliver to my brother.” Judging by the look on his face, he only intended to share the message with Kieran.
Good enough for her. Gale and Ione exchanged glances and then they were out the door and into the corridor. They didn’t immediately run into chaos. Considering that their hallway was separate from the other rooms, Ione wasn’t surprised. Kieran’s – and Azriel’s she recalled now – room was the last door on the right and it was there that Gale headed. Ione let him take the lead, assuming that Gale understood better how this should be handled.
Before they could so much as knock, however, the door opened and both Azriel and Kieran stepped out, looking far better composed than they had the night before. Dark circles ringed both men’s eyes, and they appeared exhausted, but no longer on the edge of breaking down. It wasn’t Ione’s place to ask and besides, there were more important things to consider right now.
“Grayshire’s attacking,” Gale said urgently, tension coiling in his body, aether rising around his body in a thick swell, shimmering like a heat mirage.
Azriel sighed. “I know,” he replied, and gestured below him where Kalulu was cowering against his leg, quite the pitiful creature. “Though I’m at a loss how they found us.”
Fenris bounded out of the room after the two men, instantly appearing at Ione’s side and brushing up against her like a cat seeking affection. Though Ione knew that wasn’t the case. Fenris was simply worried for her.
“They followed you,” Ghaith said, announcing his presence as he stepped out from where he had been hiding behind Gale and Ione. “After your stunt in Celestine Manor last night, some brilliant member of the Special Ops tracked you back here.”
Azriel stared. “I’m not even sure I want to ask how you know this.”
Personally, Ione was just counting down the seconds. Five, four, three, two--
“Ghaith!” Kieran exclaimed, though it lacked some of his usual enthusiasm and cheer, as he rushed down the hallway and wrapped his younger brother up in an embrace that would have embarrassed anyone else.
Looking pained, Ghaith endured the affection with the face of a man who had not only grown painfully used to it, but may have also missed the embracing attacks in the years since he had last seen his brother. Quite the complicated relationship the two brothers had. Then again, considering the block of stone and ice that was their father, Ione wasn’t surprised.
“You’ve grown so much!” Kieran added, and all but beamed, spirits lifted by the sight of his younger brother.
If there was ever anyone who epitomized the idea of a brother complex, it was Kieran.
“Kieran, you’re smothering him!” Gwydion chirped, flitting around their forms in a worried circuit.
Azriel rubbed his temples and looked at Gale. “We have to get everyone to the tunnels. I’m not so much worried about fighting back as I am protecting the ones who cannot defend themselves.”
Which, considering the rebels, was about seventy-five percent of those living in Paragon. There was a surprisingly low number of combatants among the Theravada. Grayshire had them outnumbered in more ways than one.
A deeper worry furrowed Azriel’s brow. His mother was here as well, on a lower level, no doubt nearby the hospice. Friends and family were here in Paragon, a place previously thought of as safe from Grayshire.
“Ishmael’s no doubt in his room. It might be a little difficult to track down Sabriel and the rest, but I don’t think we need to issue orders. We had a plan for this,” Gale said, thumbing his chin thoughtfully. “We have to trust that the Sergei remember it.”
The Sergei minus one now, after Helene’s death. Ione wisely didn’t mention so, however. She had her own worries. Antoinette and Malcolm and Irvine and all the friends she’d made here in Paragon, combatant and non-combatant alike. Paragon had become a home to her, and here Grayshire was, trying to tear it away from her again.
That thought burned in her blood.
“I can hold them off,” Ione said, volunteering without thinking, really. “We have to put up some sort of resistance or they’ll get suspicious, start looking for the escape tunnels.”
Gale frowned. “By yourself? Not happening. The force is too large. I’ll go with you. We can round up anyone else we spot on the way.”
Whatever. Ione wasn’t going to argue his point now. At least he wasn’t trying to unnecessarily protect her again.
Azriel inclined his head. “Good point.” He sighed again, rubbing furiously at his forehead.
“What about her?” Fenris growled, yellow stare focused on Kalulu.
“She’s done all the damage she can do,” Gale said, dismissing the rabbit as though she meant little to him. “We’ve more important things to worry about.”
Aether rose in the air, unidentifiable to Ione, but strong and powerful. Enough to make her skin prickle, make her stagger before her own aether rose to fight against it, joined quickly by Fenris’.
They didn’t have the time to keep wasting here in the hall.
“Grayshire grows impatient,” Azriel said, and straightened, a steely glint appearing in his brown eyes. “Let us hurry.”
The rest, it seemed, was simple enough.
Gale directed Ione one way, the other men turned down another route. Restlessness stirred inside of Ione, adrenaline spurred by the taste of aether in the air, the vibrancy of a potential battle. Ione couldn’t help it; she was incensed by the idea of a fight. She hoped to not face a friend but such was impossible. She’d chosen this route, after all. She’d chosen her fate.
Ione hoped she ran into someone from the Dryden, someone she could shake for information, for an explanation. They were going to pay for what they did to Souya.
Souya.
Ione glanced over her shoulder. Kieran was still blubbering over his brother, even as he followed Ghaith and Azriel down the hallway.
Kieran didn’t know about Souya. As close as the two of them had been, such news would both infuriate and depress the scientist.
Ione did not look forward to breaking the news to him. Even less than she enjoyed hearing the awful truth for herself.
* * *
a/n: So I don't update in forever and then I gave you this bombshell, angst-filled mess. Go figure.
Feedback is still always welcome. I intend to finish writing part three, the end of the trilogy and then go back and refresh the whole series, tying it all together, adding in some details, etc. So all suggestions are welcome. :)
Title: Whispers of Yesterday
Series: Infinity's End, Book Two
Warnings: smut, het smut, hints to slashy goodness, violence, language, character death
Description: Now firmly entrenched in the Theravada -- and firmly involved with Gale as well -- Ione discovers the hidden sides of both Grayshire and Theravada. She questions her own decisions -- and her feelings -- as the war takes on a more murderous, personal turn for the worst.
Chapter Seventeen
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Ione woke from an unpleasant sleep with rather pleasant sensations rippling warmly through her body. Someone’s nice hand was stroking down her back, from the crown of her head, over the back of her neck, down her spine, to her buttocks. And then back again. It was very soothing and arousing both, making Ione’s body thrum with desire. If she were a cat, she would have started purring already, arching into the stroking touch.
Of course, just because she was drowsy didn’t mean Ione didn’t recognize the owner of the hand. Her suspicions were confirmed when lips appeared at her ear with a puff of warm breath.
“Morning,” Gale murmured, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her ear, a place he had discovered to be particularly sensitive. Though Ione strongly suspected he’d gotten a tip from Malcolm, either willingly or unwillingly.
Ione hummed in the back of her throat. “Keep doing that and it’ll be a good morning,” she said teasingly, wriggling against the covers. She could feel Gale’s heat draped near her back, his lips tracing the curve of her neck and throat as his hand continued the lovely stroking.
It was always nice to be woken like this.
Gale chuckled and nibbled at her ear, making her squirm. His warm palm, long and elegant fingers, settled warmly on her hip as he pressed against her from behind, aligning their bodies. Ione could feel his thickening length settle against her buttocks, a warm weight.
“I take it you’re no longer mad at me?” Ione asked, shifting into the curve of his body.
“I’m quite furious,” Gale retorted, and teeth clamped on her ear teasingly.
“Would an apology help?”
“Depends on how it’s given.”
Ione grinned, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Former virgin and social wet blanket Gale might be, but he was no different than any other hot-blooded male. Apologetic blow jobs were the perfect way to gain forgiveness.
She shifted her hips, pushing them back to rub against Gale’s growing erection. His fingers flexed on her hip in appreciation, humming in the back of her throat.
Frantic knocking at the door broke through Ione’s pleasant haze and she jerked, staring hatefully at the wooden panel. Gale groaned and knocked his head back against the pillow.
“Does it ever bother you that we can’t seem to get a moment’s peace?” Ione wondered aloud, resisting the urge to throw herself back onto the bed and pull the comforter over her head.
“I’m beginning to suspect everyone has a sixth sense for the best time to interrupt,” Gale grumbled, and slid out of bed, long fingers reaching for the robe crumpled at the side of the bed.
More knocking came, faster and louder this time, more urgent.
“We’re coming!” Ione hollered, and rolled over her side of the bed, placing bare feet on the cold stone. She shivered briefly, casting about for some sort of covering. She didn’t mind being nude, but Gale wasn’t a big fan of her lack of modesty.
The only thing in reach was one of Gale’s tunics, so Ione pulled that on, the fabric long enough to fall to her knees. Damn, but her lover was long in the torso. Which served her well here but was something odd to suddenly realize.
Gale snickered as Ione nearly tripped over her own feet in search of some kind of pants or leggings. She was appropriately covered, but it was starting to get rather cold. A second layer would be nice.
Without waiting, Gale opened the door to see who was on the other side. In the middle of tugging on a pair of trousers, Ione didn’t see who it was.
“Ione? I think it’s for you.”
She rolled her eyes, expecting either Malcolm or Kieran. But when Ione rounded the end of the bed, she saw neither. Her breath caught in her throat as her jaw dropped.
“Ghaith?” she exclaimed in surprise as Gale pushed open the door and stepped aside, letting her uncle’s brother walk into the room.
Like Kieran, Ghaith wore glasses and the gleam of light on the lenses concealed eyes that Ione knew to mirror Kieran’s – a grayish, green shade. He was tall, thin, with a perpetual frown and a dark cast to his face. He was dressed atypical, lacking the usual overrobe of the Jeode, and instead wearing something more common – simple trousers and a tunic.
“What are you doing here?” Ione demanded, finding herself at a loss for words. More than what was also how and why?
He reached up, adjusting his glasses with one finger, pushing them further up his aristocratic nose. “I have something important to tell you. Something that I fear is not good news.”
Ione shook her head, still not registering his presence. “But… how? You’re a member of the Theravada? Since when?”
“You know him?” Gale asked, surprised, understandably wary as he moved a few steps backward to stand at Ione’s side defensively.
“Of course she does,” Ghaith said, and his gaze flicked up and down Gale’s appearance before he gave a shallow bow. “Greetings, Lord Arlen. Until now, I had no reason to believe idle rumor that you were a part of the rebels, but now the proof is before me.”
Yes, it was definitely Ghaith here. Only he walked the perfect line of chilly politeness, rude without meaning to be, the perfect contrast and opposite of his brother.
“Please, don’t do that,” Gale said, fighting back a flush of embarrassment. “I’m lord of nothing.”
Ghaith straightened, cocking his head to the side. “Are you so sure of that? Lady Zephyr might carry the Arlen head at the moment, but I’m not so certain your return wouldn’t be lauded, despite your obvious political leanings.”
Ione cut a hand through the air, hoping to dispel it before they were sidetracked. “Wait a minute, before we get into that. You never answered my question.”
Those cold eyes flickered her direction. “I’ve always known how to find my brother, Ione. As you know, the Azura have remained neutral in the war. I never saw fit to inform the late Commander Celestine of his location. It wasn’t relevant.”
“You mean he didn’t ask,” Ione retorted, rolling her eyes. She should have known. Ghaith rarely acted in any other interest, claiming a complete lack of interest in anything but his own aspirations, goals, and experiments.
“Wait. Brother?” Gale inserted, obviously confused and unable to put two and two together. Considering that Ghaith was both taller than his brother, with cropped brown hair and much younger, Ione wasn’t surprised. That and the fact they were complete opposites in temperament.
Ione gestured with her hand. “Gale, meet Ghaith, Kieran’s younger and only brother.”
Gale’s eyebrows sought to mate with his hairline. “You’re kidding.”
“I only wish I were,” Ghaith said with a sigh, and reached up, removing his glasses to wipe the lenses on his tunic. He held the spectacles up to the light, looking through them for marks and smudges before seemingly satisfied with their appearance. “Brother is an… odd one.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Quetz said, slithering out of her coil of blankets to rejoin Gale, never one to carry herself when Gale was perfectly willing to do it for her.
Ghaith blinked, looking between the black snake and the former noble. “Another rumor confirmed. You’ve bonded with the forest spirits.”
“Who are not demons by the way,” Ione clarified for Ghaith’s benefit. “Kieran has one as well. You should see him, you know. He worries about you.”
“When does he not?” Ghaith returned his glasses to their rightful position. “But I didn’t come here to talk about my brother. I came here to talk to you. And warn you.”
Something clenched inside Ione’s chest. She didn’t like Ghaith’s serious tone – not that he had a playful one. She didn’t like his sudden and random appearance here, not after what had happened last night with Grayshire and Azriel.
She crossed her arms over his chest. “Warn us?”
Ghaith’s eyes flickered briefly to Gale. “I’m sure you’re already aware that Lord Celestine was attacked and killed last night. Grayshire was quick to finger the Theravada as the perpetrators.”
“Which wouldn’t exactly be a lie,” Gale said quietly, shame coloring his cheeks.
“Yes, well, truth or lie, that’s not the point,” Ghaith commented, and flicked a hand through his hair, as though annoyed a single strand had gotten out of place. “That particular move proved to be reckless in more ways than one. They know, Ione. They know where Paragon is. And they’re coming.”
Ione felt the blood drain from her face as the whole world seemed to stop with that simple statement. “They… what?”
She heard Gale echo her disbelief, could see his face going white, the disturbance rippling through his aether. Ione’s own was frazzled, buzzing tightly around her body. She went hot and cold all over her body, breaking out into chills.
Ghaith sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You were seen,” he clarified. “Seen and followed by a very determined member of the Special Ops. They tracked you back here. How long do you think Grayshire will wait to mount a full scale attack?”
“They won’t hesitate,” Ione said with sudden understanding, her breathing short and rapid. “They’ll call every free hand, every free weapon. They’ll attack in full force.” Her head whipped up, fear and despair etched into their face. “They won’t have mercy. They’ll kill everyone.”
Ghaith inclined his head. “Grayshire won’t care about prisoners. They’ll wipe out every member of the Theravada, burn each person out of this place like rats. It’ll be a slaughter.”
Ione shook her head, still trying to process the terrible news. “We have to tell everyone. We have to warn them. Evacuate. Get everyone out of here.” Her legs started moving before she could fully comprehend the consequences, the utter truth.
“Ione.”
Gale’s voice stopped her in her tracks. She whirled to face him, and Ghaith as well, both of whom were watching her.
“There’s more,” Ghaith said, and for the first time, he fidgeted. He was uncomfortable. Whatever he had to say was worse than an impending invasion on Paragon.
Ione swallowed thickly. “More?”
Ghaith closed his eyes, briefly taking a breath. “It’s about your father, Ione. He’s gone.”
“Gone?” Ione repeated, and took a step forward, on legs that suddenly wanted to wobble. “What do you mean gone? As in missing?” She let out a laugh that wasn’t amused. “That Souya… he’s always wandering away. Should put a tracker on him or something.”
Ghaith’s eyes fell to the floor, confirming her worst fear. “The official statement is that there was a robbery or something. He tried to stop them and was killed.” His jaw firmed and when he looked up, there was a fury dancing in his gaze. “They claim that it was the Theravada.”
“Impossible,” Gale hissed, hands forming into fists at his side. “We wouldn’t do something like that.”
“W… what?” Ione couldn’t breathe.
Dead. Her father was… dead? Her stupid, loving, crazy father… someone had killed him? No, not just someone. It wasn’t a robbery. Ione wasn’t stupid. Her father was like her, strong, blessed with aether. He was the one who taught her martial arts. There was no way a simple thief could take him down. It was impossible.
She swayed where she stood, legs refusing to support her weight, and Ione dropped down to her knees.
Dimly, someone called her name. There was a hot prickle at the back of her eyes as her hands pressed flat against the floor, nails scraping against the stone.
Dead. They’d killed him. Grayshire had killed him.
Why?
Because of her? Because of the rebels? Because of what happened to Asher Celestine? Was it retribution? Was it her fault?
Ione couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her heart was hammering in her chest, trying to break through her ribcage. She felt swallowed in cotton. She couldn’t hear or see. Her body felt heavy, encased in metal, leaden.
Souya was dead. It had to be her fault. Grayshire was furious that she’d betrayed them. That she’d killed Anisa and probably helped Dharva vanish as well. Grayshire must have done it for some reason. Because of Ione. Because of her bad decision.
“Ione!”
Warm fingers cupped her face, forced her to look into bright green eyes. She blinked, lips moving but no words emerging. Her father was dead. Dead. Because of her.
Something furry brushed against her right side, a familiar aether tangling with her own. Fenris. He nudged his head against her shoulder, wet nose poking against her neck. Comforting. Familiar. Like home. Home where Souya wasn’t anymore.
“He’s dead,” Ione choked out. “They killed him because of me.”
“You don’t know that,” Gale insisted, his face so abysmally pale it must have reflected her own.
Ione sucked in a breath, her lungs aching. “What else could it be?” she demanded. “We’re nothing. Not important to anything. We’re commoners!”
“That’s… not entirely accurate,” Ghaith inserted much to her surprise. Even more so when Fenris echoed his statement in eerie syncopation.
Ione’s eyes shifted to Ghaith, hardening. “What do you mean?” she demanded, something beginning to stir in her gut. Something icy and burning hot, laced with sharp needles, and twisting through her insides. “What the hell are you talking about, Ghaith? What do you know that I don’t? What other secrets have been hidden from me?”
She’s practically shouting at the last, throwing herself to her feet as though Ghaith was the one to blame. Something was screaming inside of her, arms flailing, burning with desire to attack, to tear down. Her hands balled into fists, squeezing tight and tight, fingers leaving impressions in her palm.
Gale’s hands grabbed her shoulders, holding her back. She hadn’t intended to attack Ghaith, but it must have seemed that way.
Ghaith didn’t blink, just adjusted his glasses again. “Your mother, Lilah, is actually Lyra Dryden, and a very important person amongst the nobility.”
Incomprehension flooded Ione’s thoughts. “I… what?”
“They didn’t kill Souya because of you,” Ghaith explained, and rubbed his temples as though this whole conversation was an annoyance to him. “The Dryden wanted your mother to return to them. When she refused, they sent a message in blood. And Grayshire used that to conveniently stir up more hatred for the Theravada.”
If Ghaith intended to comfort her, he failed. It didn’t matter what inevitably caused Souya’s death. The fact remained that someone had killed her father. Killed Souya. And the last time Ione had seen him was almost two years ago. Two years since she’d dodged one of his attacks or let him swamp her in a manly hug or tease her about Malcolm. Two years since she’d stood in the living room, listening to both her parents warn her to be careful. A warning Ione had failed to properly heed.
She was sure she was shaking. “The Dryden did it,” she repeated lowly, trying to recall what she could of the noble family. They were low on the totem pole of nobility, but still high class and powerful. They were the lawmakers, the proponents of justice.
Ione snorted. Justice. Right. She was sure their idea of justice was enough to justify killing her father. She didn’t know why they wanted her mother – by Diana, Ione was part Dryden. That thought burned. – back. Ione didn’t care. They were going to burn.
Gale’s hands were a welcome pressure on her shoulders, grounding her, reminding her that he was there. That she wasn’t alone. But it did nothing for the anger coiling tighter and tighter inside of her. Ione had thought she hate Grayshire before. Her previous disgust had only touched the tip of the loathing that now stirred.
“Ione…” If Gale thought to comfort her, to say something to ease the pain of her father’s loss, Ione would never know. Before the words could even leave his lips, she felt something stir in the air. Like a warning, an oncoming rush of aether, primeval and powerful. Familiar, not human.
Fenris leapt for the door, darting out into the hallway where he pounced on a streak of white just as it shot past the door. Ione gaped, Gale stared, and Ghaith seemed nonplussed as the wolf came trotting back inside, a small form squirming between his teeth.
He spat his prey onto the ground and Ione blinked at the familiar sight. The white creature was a rabbit, and not just any rabbit, but Kalulu. Ione would recognize the telltale rings around the rabbit’s eyes anywhere.
“Fenris… why did you…?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” the wolf demanded, a low growl in his voice that Ione hadn’t heard before. He sounded angry, as though he wanted to commit violence this very moment. “You want to know why I’ve been missing? Why you haven’t seen me? It’s because I’ve been helping Sabriel and Anubis.”
Ione stared at Kalulu, failing to comprehend. She hadn’t known Fenris had been helping Sabriel. She hadn’t even a clue. Sabriel had devoted himself to finding the traitor, the one that had revealed secrets about Grayshire.
Did that mean…?
On the floor, Kalulu sniffled, huddling in a small white ball, shivering, but not trying to run. She looked miserable, but not terrified, despite being in a wolf’s mouth not but seconds before. Her blue eyes were limpid and pleading, her large ears lying flat against her head as though she had been chastised.
“Kalulu,” Ione said gently, a sick feeling building inside of her. “What’s Fenris talking about?”
Kalulu shook so hard that Ione feared her bones were knocking together before she broke into an abrupt wail. “I didn’t know, Ione. I swear I didn’t know!” she sobbed, fat tears dripping from her big blue eyes.
Ione went cold. “What did you do?”
“Betrayed us,” Fenris hissed, hunched low to the ground as he glared at Kalulu, teeth bared as though wanting to rend her limb from limb. “She’s the one who told them we would be in Varos. She’s the reason Helene died.”
Silence fell, so hard that Ione swore she could hear her own heart beating.
On her short list of those who could have betrayed them, Ione would have never expected this. Not from Kalulu. The little rabbit was so timid, hardly ever found from Talya’s skirts.
“Why?” Ione asked, crestfallen. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t know they were going to hurt you,” she cried, looking up at Ione pleadingly. “I was only trying to protect Azriel. He doesn’t know what kind of man Kieran really is. How dangerous that man is. I swear I didn’t know they were going to hurt you, Ione. I swear.”
Ione felt at a loss for words, suddenly losing the ability to breathe again. Gale’s hands fell from her shoulders as he stepped past her, glaring down at the small rabbit.
“You were trying to get rid of Kieran?” Gale said, aghast. “Why?”
Quetz poked her head out of Gale’s tunic, looking down at the cowering rabbit. “I don’t understand, Kalulu. Why would you betray Kieran?”
The rabbit quivered before suddenly drawing up straight, her blue eyes determined. “Because he’s no good. He’s done things, terrible things. He’s no good for Azriel. Azriel deserves better!”
“I can’t believe you would so something like this,” Quetz said, disappointed and saddened. “How could you? Kieran belongs to Gwydion!”
But it seemed Kalulu was through explaining herself. She clammed up, refusing to say anything else, looking up at them defiantly. She truly believed she had made the right decision.
“What else have you told them?” Fenris demanded, yellow eyes narrowed. A growl was building low in his throat, threatening. “What else have you given them?”
“Nothing. I swear!” Kalulu cried, her aether swimming around her body, agitated and alarmed, but resolute as well. “I would never give them Azriel. I would never give them Paragon. It’s all we have left!”
By we, Ione could only assume that Kalulu meant either Talya or the other forest spirits. Since Fenris had asked the question, Ione leaned toward the latter.
“But it doesn’t matter anymore,” Kalulu said, and fat tears rolled from her eyes, dampening the floor where they dripped. “They found us anyway. They’re coming here. Soon. I couldn’t stop them.”
As if to confirm her words, the world around Ione suddenly rocked violently, nearly throwing her from her feet. She struggled to keep her balance as the sound of an explosion split the hazy afternoon, along with the rush of a powerful aether, blazing heat and fury.
Kalulu let out a great wail of terror and bounded out the door before any one of them could stop her, though Fenris was quick to give chase. Ione ignored the rabbit for the moment – the damage had already been done after all – and raced to the window. Her legs still felt a bit like jelly, but the terror knocking at her heart couldn’t be ignored. She wrestled with the shutters until she could throw them open, a wash of early autumn breeze slapping her in the face.
They were high enough up that at first, all Ione could see was a literal sea of green and brown and red, the trees already changing with oncoming autumn. She could smell smoke however, the bitter tang of a magical attack. The press of aether was stronger with the windows open, growing louder and more terrifying with each passing moment. Of the enemy she could see nothing but--
“Ione!”
Arms wrapped around her, tackling her to the ground, mere seconds before an invisible wave of aether slammed against the side of the Whispering Cliffs, just to the right of where Ione’s head had been sticking out the window. Debris rained down, shards of rock exploding in all directions, some careening through the open window where it promptly pinged against a magical barrier. Ghaith’s, Ione supposed, since neither she nor Gale were the most skilled at defensive magic and she knew Kieran excelled at it.
Trust Gale to have more magical sense than her. He must have felt the invisible wave coming. There were few in the Brigade capable of such an attack. Ione could only think of one or two, and the prospect of facing either was not pretty.
“They’re already here,” Ione said, swallowing thickly, as she untangled herself from Gale’s arms. She coughed at the cloud of dust as it wafted into their room, her heart hammering in her chest. “We have to warn the others.”
“I’m sure they already know,” Ghaith said, his voice perfectly neutral.
Ione felt the prickle of magic being used die down as Ghaith’s barrier fell, no longer needed at the moment. He’d always been one to conserve his energies whenever possible.
“Yes, but we have to help in the evacuation. People will panic,” Gale said with a scowl. Apparently, he wasn’t all too impressed with Ghaith.
Not an impossible feat. Ghaith tended to have that effect on everyone. He took after his father so much it was frightening. And easy to see that either Kieran resembled his departed mother to an absurd extent, or had been adopted into the Azura family.
On his feet, Gale was already reaching for his sword. Ione looked down at herself, at her mismatched outfit, but there really wasn’t any time to search for something to serve her better. Grayshire’s attacking force wouldn’t wait for a wardrobe change. So she slid her sockless feet into her boots, snagged a hair tie from the dresser, and pulled the loose strands out of her eyes.
Another violent explosion split the air, the force of it enough to make Ione stagger again. She almost didn’t want to know what Grayshire was using that was powerful enough to make a cliff of stone shudder. If Grayshire had found Paragon, they’d no doubt already discovered the base floor entrance. Kieran’s barriers were strong, but even they would fall under a repeated onslaught. Paragon had minutes, at best, before her hallways were flooded with the enemy.
“Are you with us?” Ione asked Ghaith directly, sliding a sash around her waist and knotting it at the side to control the looseness of Gale’s tunic.
“I’m not against you, if that’s what you mean,” Ghaith retorted, and adjusted his glasses with a sniff. “I have a message to deliver to my brother.” Judging by the look on his face, he only intended to share the message with Kieran.
Good enough for her. Gale and Ione exchanged glances and then they were out the door and into the corridor. They didn’t immediately run into chaos. Considering that their hallway was separate from the other rooms, Ione wasn’t surprised. Kieran’s – and Azriel’s she recalled now – room was the last door on the right and it was there that Gale headed. Ione let him take the lead, assuming that Gale understood better how this should be handled.
Before they could so much as knock, however, the door opened and both Azriel and Kieran stepped out, looking far better composed than they had the night before. Dark circles ringed both men’s eyes, and they appeared exhausted, but no longer on the edge of breaking down. It wasn’t Ione’s place to ask and besides, there were more important things to consider right now.
“Grayshire’s attacking,” Gale said urgently, tension coiling in his body, aether rising around his body in a thick swell, shimmering like a heat mirage.
Azriel sighed. “I know,” he replied, and gestured below him where Kalulu was cowering against his leg, quite the pitiful creature. “Though I’m at a loss how they found us.”
Fenris bounded out of the room after the two men, instantly appearing at Ione’s side and brushing up against her like a cat seeking affection. Though Ione knew that wasn’t the case. Fenris was simply worried for her.
“They followed you,” Ghaith said, announcing his presence as he stepped out from where he had been hiding behind Gale and Ione. “After your stunt in Celestine Manor last night, some brilliant member of the Special Ops tracked you back here.”
Azriel stared. “I’m not even sure I want to ask how you know this.”
Personally, Ione was just counting down the seconds. Five, four, three, two--
“Ghaith!” Kieran exclaimed, though it lacked some of his usual enthusiasm and cheer, as he rushed down the hallway and wrapped his younger brother up in an embrace that would have embarrassed anyone else.
Looking pained, Ghaith endured the affection with the face of a man who had not only grown painfully used to it, but may have also missed the embracing attacks in the years since he had last seen his brother. Quite the complicated relationship the two brothers had. Then again, considering the block of stone and ice that was their father, Ione wasn’t surprised.
“You’ve grown so much!” Kieran added, and all but beamed, spirits lifted by the sight of his younger brother.
If there was ever anyone who epitomized the idea of a brother complex, it was Kieran.
“Kieran, you’re smothering him!” Gwydion chirped, flitting around their forms in a worried circuit.
Azriel rubbed his temples and looked at Gale. “We have to get everyone to the tunnels. I’m not so much worried about fighting back as I am protecting the ones who cannot defend themselves.”
Which, considering the rebels, was about seventy-five percent of those living in Paragon. There was a surprisingly low number of combatants among the Theravada. Grayshire had them outnumbered in more ways than one.
A deeper worry furrowed Azriel’s brow. His mother was here as well, on a lower level, no doubt nearby the hospice. Friends and family were here in Paragon, a place previously thought of as safe from Grayshire.
“Ishmael’s no doubt in his room. It might be a little difficult to track down Sabriel and the rest, but I don’t think we need to issue orders. We had a plan for this,” Gale said, thumbing his chin thoughtfully. “We have to trust that the Sergei remember it.”
The Sergei minus one now, after Helene’s death. Ione wisely didn’t mention so, however. She had her own worries. Antoinette and Malcolm and Irvine and all the friends she’d made here in Paragon, combatant and non-combatant alike. Paragon had become a home to her, and here Grayshire was, trying to tear it away from her again.
That thought burned in her blood.
“I can hold them off,” Ione said, volunteering without thinking, really. “We have to put up some sort of resistance or they’ll get suspicious, start looking for the escape tunnels.”
Gale frowned. “By yourself? Not happening. The force is too large. I’ll go with you. We can round up anyone else we spot on the way.”
Whatever. Ione wasn’t going to argue his point now. At least he wasn’t trying to unnecessarily protect her again.
Azriel inclined his head. “Good point.” He sighed again, rubbing furiously at his forehead.
“What about her?” Fenris growled, yellow stare focused on Kalulu.
“She’s done all the damage she can do,” Gale said, dismissing the rabbit as though she meant little to him. “We’ve more important things to worry about.”
Aether rose in the air, unidentifiable to Ione, but strong and powerful. Enough to make her skin prickle, make her stagger before her own aether rose to fight against it, joined quickly by Fenris’.
They didn’t have the time to keep wasting here in the hall.
“Grayshire grows impatient,” Azriel said, and straightened, a steely glint appearing in his brown eyes. “Let us hurry.”
The rest, it seemed, was simple enough.
Gale directed Ione one way, the other men turned down another route. Restlessness stirred inside of Ione, adrenaline spurred by the taste of aether in the air, the vibrancy of a potential battle. Ione couldn’t help it; she was incensed by the idea of a fight. She hoped to not face a friend but such was impossible. She’d chosen this route, after all. She’d chosen her fate.
Ione hoped she ran into someone from the Dryden, someone she could shake for information, for an explanation. They were going to pay for what they did to Souya.
Souya.
Ione glanced over her shoulder. Kieran was still blubbering over his brother, even as he followed Ghaith and Azriel down the hallway.
Kieran didn’t know about Souya. As close as the two of them had been, such news would both infuriate and depress the scientist.
Ione did not look forward to breaking the news to him. Even less than she enjoyed hearing the awful truth for herself.
a/n: So I don't update in forever and then I gave you this bombshell, angst-filled mess. Go figure.
Feedback is still always welcome. I intend to finish writing part three, the end of the trilogy and then go back and refresh the whole series, tying it all together, adding in some details, etc. So all suggestions are welcome. :)
