She pulled away. “Save the cruelty to you?”
I started as the words hit me square in the chest. Quickly, I took another drag on my pipe, blowing out the silver smoke of the lore when I could hold it no longer.
“Stay away from her,” I said instead. “It’s for the best.”
“You’ll allow her to wander the keep?”
“She’s not a prisoner here,” I reminded her sharply. “You will encounter her. So the offer still stands if you wish to visit Lucen for the harvest.”
“She’s your wife, Azur,” she pointed out with a sag of her shoulders. “She’ll always be here now. So why should I have to run away from my home?”
We lapsed into silence. I was buzzing with the energy from the feeding. Not even lore could suppress it.
In the darkness, hunched over as I was, Kalia didn’t seem to notice I’d grown or that the seams of my clothes were perilously close to ripping. A mercy. I didn’t want to face her horror if she realized it. I couldn’t bear it right now.
“You want any?” I asked Kalia, the question meant to lighten the mood.
Her eyes went to my pipe, and she rolled her eyes in a very human way. Something she’d learned from her friend in the village, no doubt.
Kalia didn’t like the taste of lore. One of the few Kylorr I knew that didn’t partake in traditions that went back to our ancestors.
“Isn’t it strange?” she asked quietly next. “That a plant created all of this?”
Peering into the clear pipe, rolling it between my fingers, I inspected the gently burning dried lore. Blue in color, it shimmered with an iridescent sheen. A foundation of our culture, our history, it had been used for centuries.
The strange and perhaps miraculous thing about lore was that it affected species differently. For the Kylorr, it was a relaxing way to unwind, a way to take the edge off a rage—or to prevent one from happening entirely. For humans, it was an aphrodisiac, a powerful sexual stimulant. For the Jetutians and Bvaro, it was a hallucinogenic. For the Horrin and the Killup and a handful of other species, it was a powerful medicine. One that had cured strange diseases and saved hundreds of thousands of lives throughout the Quadrants.
No matter what the effect, lore was in high demand. Clamored over for its wide array of uses. Something so simple to the Kylorr was something greater to everyone else.
Species had tried to grow lore on their planets or tried to reproduce it within a lab. They’d all failed. Lore could only grow here, on Krynn. It grew best, however, in the Kaalium. Farther up north, in Kaazor, the yields were small though possible. Across the seas, they used different species of it which grew better in their soil. But it was the Kaalium’s lore that the entire universe desired.
Lore had built the Kaalium.
Lore had built our family’s legacy and our rule.
And the Kaazor wish to take it from us, I couldn’t help but think. My mind always seemed to stray to the north these days.
“I’ll return to the border tomorrow,” I informed Kalia. “I’ll only be gone a couple days.”
“Can I come?” she asked hopefully, though she already knew my answer.
“No.”
A weary sigh drifted from her lips.
“The harvest festival and ball is coming up,” I reminded her. “Aren’t you on the planning committee with your friends from the village?”
“Do you know how condescending you sound when you say that?” she huffed.
I blinked, bewildered. “You like the harvest ball.”
“I do! But…” She trailed off. “I’m not a child anymore, Azur. I have just as much right to defend our House as you do!”
“And the Kaazor have made threats against our House, Kalia,” I growled. “For decades. Even against you. Don’t forget that.”
She pressed her lips together.
“You’re safer in Laras,” I grumbled, all ease from the lore gone. “Make no mistake, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe, even if you think I’m being a condescending bastard while I do it.”
“I heard that the Hop’jin let their females be soldiers in their wars,” she argued.
“And the Hop’jin have the females to spare,” I argued. “We do not.”
“This argument again,” she mumbled.
“Yes. This argument again,” I growled, feeling a prick of annoyance. Why couldn’t she understand?
“Fine. I’ll be a good little female and do what I’m told. I’ll plan the harvest festival in the village and pass out steam cakes and bouquets to the children. I’ll host the ball at the keep and smile at the nobles as they pass through our halls. I’ll stay far away from any important matters that might actually affect my life. Wouldn’t want me dying to inconvenience you. Just another soul you’ll have to save for our family.”
She hadn’t meant to say that last part, but anger had loosened her tongue.
Kalia’s breath hitched and she went silent as I stiffened.
A weighty silence lapsed.
Finally she blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” I said, cutting her off. “It’s all right, Kalia.”
Her fangs prodded at her bottom lip. “Azur…”
Females were treasured among the Kylorr. Protected above all things because they were so rare. And Kalia…
Kalia was our only sister. The only daughter of House Kaalium, born after its five sons. If anything ever happened to her…
Softly, I said, “I don’t want your fate to mirror Aina’s. I will die before that happens. And I would rather you hate me if it means keeping you safe. Please don’t ask me again. At least until the worst of this mess is over.”
She said nothing.
She only watched the plume of the lore’s silver smoke as it floated before us.
Chapter 11
Gemma
“The Kyzaire requests you at breakfast this morning,” Ludayn informed me, making my stomach cramp into knots, as she shamelessly rifled through my trunks. Then I heard a frown as she asked, “Is this all you brought with you? But where are your nice dresses?”
“These are my nice dresses,” I corrected her, feeling strangely defensive over my clothes. They might not have been as pretty as the ones Piper and Mira wore, but they were practical garments, well made, and durable for the constant travel to the blue salt mines. “And don’t you mean my husband requests me for breakfast?” I grumbled under my breath.
While my mood had improved since last night with a good night’s rest…I was still feeling a little surly. Admittedly.
Ludayn’s brow furrowed. Her wing gave a little flutter behind her, and she said, “No, he always takes his morning meal on the terrace. It will be served soon, so we must hurry.”
Served? I wondered, that sick feeling growing in my belly. Did he…did he feed from others too? Would I have to watch? Was this to be the next torment he had planned for me?