Kevos huffed softly, his expression regretful. “Some things you just know. I felt nothing but exasperation in her presence. I could not imagine being bound to her for a lifetime, yet I also recognized that she was as sweet as her name, though far too young and naïve.”
He turned his gaze back to Jotahan. “When you spoke to me after my return from the hunt, I realized you were right. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in empty pursuits. Nearly dying showed me that I didn’t have much to live for. As soon as I was out of my bed, I went to the newly ordained priest of Seta Zul and asked for the seal. Ane-ata was going to be my first stop after the celebration party, but I decided during the party that I didn’t want to wait to make certain she would not be the one to activate it.”
Jotahan was stunned. He stared at Kevos, uncertain what to say.
Kevos smirked at his shocked expression. “I know. I was as surprised as you are now when I actually went through with having the seal painted on.” He bowed his head to study the stone floor beneath his feet. “Instead of proving anything, I found Ane-ata lying in a pool of her own blood.”
He glanced up at Jotahan briefly. “I passed Farona on the way to Ane-ata’s pod, close enough that her scent should have activated my seal if she were my drahi. Even before I found Ane-ata’s body and understood Farona’s part in the murder, I was relieved my seal did not burn for her.”
Seta Zul would not have been so cruel. Not even to Kevos, who had openly and heretically disdained her will in his objection to Jotahan bringing Sarah to Draku Rin.
“Has your seal activated?” He could not imagine what kind of drahi would finally tame the sentil.
Kevos shook his head. “Not yet, thank the Ajda. I instantly regretted having it applied, but it was already too late. The ritual was done. I would be dishonored if I removed it now.”
Despite the grimness of their circumstances, Jotahan huffed with a brief spurt of amusement at Kevos’ predicament. “You do realize that you have already angered Seta Zul by this point. She isn’t likely to make your mating an easy one.”
Kevos crossed his arms over his chest. “Which is exactly why I instantly regretted my decision. I curse the words you spoke that cycle that made me even consider the idea, and my own impulsiveness in my pain-addled thinking that had me actually going through with it.”
Jotahan took a petty satisfaction in Kevos’ unease. It served the sentil right to endure the seal and all of its uncertainties after how difficult he’d made Jotahan and Sarah’s life with his bias against the nixirs.
A bias that Jotahan had once shared.
“Sarah will recover,” Jotahan said aloud, as if the saying of it would make it so.
Kevos slowly nodded his head. “I’m sure she will, Jotahan.”
Jotahan turned his gaze down to his plate, unwilling to look at Kevos’ face any longer. He supposed it was a good thing that at least Kevos had not learned to lie convincingly, but this time, he really wished he could believe the sentil.
43
“Your willing sacrifice for love pleases me,” Seta Zul’s voice said, though Sarah could not see her. All she saw was darkness now. Not even the Inferno.
“It is time to wake up, Sarah.”
Sarah’s eyes opened to see a scaled face hovering over her. She recognized the high cheekbones, fine, delicate jawline, narrow, elegant features.
“Rataka?” Her voice tore from her throat, feeling like it carried shards of glass with it. Her mouth was so dry, she could barely move it.
The female yan-kanat’s double eyelids flicked closed, opening to reveal the eyes of Seta Zul. “This one carries genuine affection for you in her heart. She can be trusted.”
Her eyes closed again, and Rataka’s normal yellow eyes returned when her lids fluttered open. She seemed to be completely unaware that anything odd had taken place, bending forward, the yan-kanat version of a happy expression crossing her face. “Sarah! You’re awake!”
She turned her head to call for the healers, then reached for a mug of water that she helped Sarah drink. As water dribbled down her chin despite Rataka’s assistance, Sarah decided that she needed to help the yan-kanat invent straws.
Then she remembered that Jotahan was gone, which meant there was no reason for her to remain in Draku Rin. In fact, she wasn’t even certain that they would allow her to stay. She wasn’t certain what her future held at all.
She couldn’t even find it in herself to care.
Tears filled her eyes, despite the fact that she felt too dehydrated to shed any liquids. Somehow, they still managed to form, perhaps draining her of her last fluids.
IVs. She needed to help the yan-kanat invent IVs before she left Draku Rin. Maybe she could manage to do some good in this world before she left it. She couldn’t help the feeling that all the tragedy was still her fault, even though it was committed by Farona. After all, if she hadn’t come here, Farona would never have lost her mind and turned evil. Maybe the darkness that lived inside the human soul was actually contagious, like a virus. Maybe her coming here had spread it to the yan-kanat.
Rataka took the mug away from her when Sarah choked a bit on a sip of water. “Careful, my friend. You have been asleep for several cycles. The healers managed to force you to swallow fluids while you were unconscious, but they couldn’t get much into you. I know you’re probably thirsty, but you must drink slowly so you don’t hurt yourself.”
Sarah finished coughing, leaving her throat raw and even drier so she couldn’t speak. Rataka stroked a gentle hand over her hair in a soothing manner. “I’m so sorry for what Farona did to you,” Rataka said, her expression turning bleak. “All of us in her circle have known her for many passings, and understood her nature could become violent when her will was thwarted. We overlooked this failing, because none of us coveted what she had claimed as her own. Most of the time, none of us even went
against her wishes. It was just easier to allow her to lead us wherever she wanted us to go, and when we went along with her, she treated us very well.”
She bowed her head, her eyes closing briefly. “I swear to you, my friend, we did not know the extent of her unethical business dealings, but now that they have been exposed with Ane-ata’s murder we have come to question the disappearance of two former members of our circle who had expressed doubts over certain deals she had made. Farona told us they left Draku Rin to travel to other skilevs, and simply never sent a scry because they’d moved on. We had no reason not to believe her then. Now….”
Her tormented gaze lifted to meet Sarah’s again. “We don’t understand how we could have missed this, after knowing her for so long! How do your people handle betrayals like this? How do they learn to trust again, when those closest to them turn out to be the monsters they always feared hid in the dark?”
Sarah patted Rataka’s hand where it rested on the bed beside her, propping the other female up as she leaned over Sarah. She tried to dredge up some emotion, though she felt dead inside, as though a part of her was lost forever.
“You learn to go on, Rataka, and try not to judge everyone you meet by the actions of those who have hurt you in the past.” Her voice was still hoarse, and speaking was still a struggle, but it kept her from thinking about Jotahan and the deep, painful well of loss inside her that waited to drown her. “That’s what humans have to do. It’s not always easy, but it can be done. You can learn to trust people again—and to trust your own judgement.”