The Spirit Heir (14 page)

Rhen opened his mind, letting go of his thoughts to connect completely with his senses. The flames burned as though already touching the tips of his fingers, and it took almost nothing to reach out and grasp them. Eyes closed, Rhen did not see the fire pull free of the arrows. He did not see the river of flames hurtle toward him.

But he heard the men around him gasp, with fascination and with horror, just a second before the burn smashed against his palms. And then the world faded away as he let himself revel in heat rippling under his skin, the power, the invincibility.

Cheers filtered into Rhen's ears as the blaze cooled. Hesitant, he opened his lids, searching for only one set of eyes in the crowd—Whyllem. His brother's hazel irises looked on proudly. The barest hint of a smile graced his lips. No trace of fear lined his features, no ounce of judgment.

A moment later, another flight of scorching arrows sailed across the sky. Without pause, Rhen sucked the heat beneath his skin.

Again.

And again.

And again.

For nearly an hour, the exchange continued until the grounds before the city were speckled with half sunken sticks. But no trenches had been revealed. Whether in pure dirt or grass-covered canvas, the arrows all looked the same from his vantage point. Useless.

"They're retreating!" a soldier shouted.

Rhen, energized rather than tired from the exchange, focused on the distance, watching with a smile as the row of shields lifted and walked slowly backward. There would be no deaths today, on either side. A small victory, but one Rhen rejoiced in.

"Lord of Fire!" another man shouted.

But Rhen did not acknowledge the title, even as it spread along the wall, lifting into the air, growing louder—a different sort of wildfire, one Rhen would never be able to control.

Instead he turned, away from the battlegrounds, away from the wall, away from his men, searching for his exit back home. For some reason, without the fight to hold his interest, his thoughts had drifted back to Jinji. All he wanted to do was see her, the need punctured his gut, urgent as he thought of how he had left her this morning. Serene in sleep, more peaceful than Rhen had ever remembered seeing his friend's face. More beautiful, too. The memory was hard to suppress as it fluttered up to the forefront of his mind.

Rhen woke to a gentle yellow glow spreading across the horizon. Confused for a moment, he sat up, but a weight rested on his side. Looking down, honey brown skin greeted him.

Jinji.

And suddenly he remembered running to her rooms the night before, needing more than anything to know that someone understood him, accepted him, did not fear the power curling under his skin.

His fingers rose, brushing the silky skin of her cheek as a smile pulled at his lips. As always, she had been there when he needed her the most.

Jinji stirred under his touch. Her hand crept up his chest, barely brushing his shirt as she shifted her weight, but heat flooded his veins nonetheless. Rhen breathed deeply, but no amount of cool air could quell the boil rising in his pulse as the woman in his arms pressed ever tighter against him.

More than anything, in that moment he wished to lean his head down and brush her slightly open mouth with his. Rhen stared, mesmerized by the air slowly rolling in and out of the space between her rosy lips.

And then a knock sounded, quiet, discreet, but distracting enough. A head poked through. Whyllem. Rhen's eyes widened, caught.

"When you weren't in your rooms, I thought I might find you here," his brother whispered.

"Nothing happened," Rhen quickly assured, with the barest hint of regret in his voice. He licked his lips, nervously waiting for his brother's response. Disapproval? A lecture?

Whyllem just grinned. "There's a first time for everything."

The tension in the air dissipated just as quickly as it came. Whyllem might not like it, but he accepted it—whatever it was. Rhen himself still wasn't entirely sure, but he couldn’t deny that part of him, a large part, desperately wanted to find out.

"Come on, little brother." Whyllem sighed. "It's time to see the ships off."

Rhen nodded, and Whyllem slipped back through the door, closing it silently behind him, leaving Rhen just a few more minutes alone with Jinji.

He stood, lifting her small body easily, and laid her gently on the bed. A sigh escaped her lips and she turned toward him, as though even in sleep she could feel his arms slip away. Goosebumps rose along her torso, cold now that his body heat was gone, and Rhen tucked blankets around her.

Hovering just above her face, Rhen stared for a moment, wondering what dreams had brought the slight smile softening her features. And before he could stop himself, he brought his lips against her skin, kissing her forehead, stealing a moment that did not belong to him—at least not yet.

Careful not to wake her, he pulled away, controlling his wayward lips before they found another target, a more dangerous one. Without another glance, he walked away, trying to ignore the depression spreading down his limbs as he realized Jinji would wake alone, perhaps without the memory that he was ever there at all.

"Rhen," Whyllem called, snapping him back to reality.

Fighting to clear his mind, Rhen waited, foot hovering over the top stair, until his elder brother caught up. A hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Whyllem sighed, whispering, "You did well, brother. Better than me."

Rhen shook his head, pushing thoughts of Jinji from his mind to focus on his sibling. "Not better, Whyllem. We're both doing what we can. And the city is safe for another day."

"I suppose," Whyllem murmured, but Rhen heard the doubt in his tone. And something else, something harder he could not place. Determination. Resolution.

Rather than push the point, Rhen remained silent as they descended the steps and approached the royal carriage that had carried Whyllem to the wall. A few yards away, Ember waited for Rhen, already impatiently neighing now that she had seen his face. Rhen wanted to pat her hair, smooth it down and whisper that he too was feeling impatient to get home, to escape the wall, to find a certain someone.

Rhen turned to bid his brother farewell, but Whyllem hesitated before entering the royal coach—one foot in and one foot glued to the ground. After a moment, he gently lowered. Rhen held his breath, waiting for the speech blazing behind his brother's eyes. Fierce. Passionate.

"Rhen," Whyllem began, squaring his shoulders. And for the first time he could remember, his brother's voice held true weight—a note of authority that was unfamiliar. But before Whyllem could continue, a king's guard ran to them, panting, out of breath with a sealed note in his hand.

"For the king regent," he said with the hasty bow.

Holding Rhen's gaze for just a moment longer, Whyllem accepted the letter with a deep sigh, thanking the messenger and sending him away. Rhen released his breath, fixing his eyes on the ground, feeling as though he had escaped something, but he wasn't entirely sure what.

Then Whyllem cursed under his breath, and Rhen's brief moment of reprieve ended. Nerves flooded his veins, zapping his heart, as an immediate sense of dread overcame his body.

Was today just a distraction?

Had the Ourthuri struck?

Was Jinji okay?

Questions burned his tongue, too many to ask all at once, so instead he settled on one all encompassing word. "What?"

"Two Ourthuri women snuck into the city this morning."

"How?"

Whyllem shook his head, unsure, and continued reading aloud, disbelief evident in his voice. "They were found on the docks, dripping wet, and have been taken to the castle for questioning. Based on their tattoos, the guards believe it was a princess and her slave."

A princess and her slave?

Rhen shook his head—that made absolutely no sense.

Unless…

He cursed under his breath, realization immediate. "I know who it is."

"Who?"

"Someone who helped me escape King Razzaq."

"A princess?"

Rhen ran a hand through his tangled hair.

"Princess Leenaka," he murmured, voice quiet. The name had run through his mind a thousand times since his escape from Da’astiku, always attached to the golden veiled beauty who had brushed her soft fingers over his cheek, caressing his skin warmly, running a thumb over his lips. The memory stirred, igniting his veins. Rhen had dreamt about her, thought about her. Even now, knowing that in truth the mysterious woman had been Jinji in one of her many disguises, Rhen couldn't help the curiosity stirring his mind.

Who was this princess who helped him escape? This princess Jinji chose to hide behind, another mask his friend pretended to wear? This princess who had never truly met him, but placed her life in his hands?

"I don't think you ever mentioned that part of the story," Whyllem said, nudging his brother with a grin and forgetting for a moment the grave situation of the day. "Another woman? You certainly were busy while you were away."

Rhen shook his head, looking at his brother with exasperation. "Not like that, Whyllem." He sighed. "She… Well, I'm not sure why she helped save me, but she did. And in return, she was promised safe haven in Rayfort if she ran away from her father and her homeland. And it looks like she did."

"You promised protection to an Ourthuri princess? Rhen, what were you thinking?" Whyllem rubbed the ridge of his nose, crinkling the message in his fist. "King Razzaq—"

"King Razzaq tried to kill me once already and is currently waging a war against our people. There isn’t much left for him to do, whether we help the princess or not. Besides, I made a promise."

Rhen bit his tongue, ignoring the fact that Jinji was in fact the one who made the promise—after she convinced the princess to help save his life and usher them to safety. He owed both of them his life.

Speaking of Jinji…

Rhen's pulse quickened beneath his skin, eyes narrowing as he recalled his brother's earlier words. "Did you say the princess came with a slave?"

"Yes…"

Rhen dropped his head into waiting palms, fighting the urge to laugh or cry—he was unsure which. "The gods," he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he fought to regain control over his unruly emotions.

Jinji.

It had to be.

Pain pricked his chest as he remembered the gruesome scars circling her wrists, cuts from the shackles that had bound her hands while she was left for dead in the dungeons, before Rhen woke and rescued her from that dark fate. Too late though—he had been too late. Long sleeves hid the marks, but Rhen had not forgotten they were there. And with those branding her copper skin, Jinji was easy to mistake for an unmarked Ourthuri.

Arrested twice already…

Rhen closed his eyes tight, wishing he could turn back time, wishing he had never left her alone this morning. Convincing his family and his people to embrace an oldworlder was hard enough. Convincing them to embrace an oldworlder who had been arrested for the attempted murder of a prince and a queen was verging on impossible. But convincing them to embrace an oldworlder who had also been accused of being an enemy spy? The scenario was becoming downright ridiculous.

Indeed, one side of Rhen's mouth lifted up in disbelief, but it quickly fell as the image of Jinji bound and chained, bleeding and bruised once more, erased all of the mirth from his mind, leaving a dark rage in its place.

"Rhen," Whyllem yelled, sensing his brother's changing mood. But Rhen was already retreating, jumping on Ember, turning to the castle.

"I'll meet you there," he called over his shoulder. Moments later, he was flying over cobblestone as Ember's hooves pounded in his ears.

9

JINJI

~ RAYFORT ~

The ropes around Jinji's wrists felt all too familiar, turning her stomach over and making her heart run rapidly in her chest. Already, old wounds began to burn, to sting. Already, the darkness of the dungeons began to close in, blocking out the real world.

We're in a carriage.

Jinji repeated the phrase over and over, singeing the truth into her mind. She was not back in the endless ebony, not back behind bars. Metal did not break open her skin, did not bind her, did not hold her captive.

But darkness had never been Jinji's friend, and even the dull light seeping through cracks in the windowless carriage were not enough to quell her mounting panic.

The shadow.

Jinji's eyes widened at the thought. Were those white eyes peering at her through the black? Was an old nightmare returning in her time of weakness?

No…

Jinji began to count her long breaths, to count the bumps in the road as the wheels below them rattled, to count the sighs of the woman beside her. Focusing on the numbers, her body calmed. The pulse raging through her veins slowed. The vise around her heart slackened. The spots in her vision receded.