“Hate him?” Tiiran finally remembered and asked about it loud enough to make Nikoly glance over his shoulder. He still did not meet Tiiran’s eye.
“Alidin!” Orin shouted to someone farther ahead of them, an outguard who twisted around to look until she found Orin. “Do you know what’s happening elsewhere with the others?”
Her answer, if she had one, was drowned out by a clap of thunder.
Some of the bedraggled nobles screamed, then looked up as Tiiran did, bewildered to see a clear, gloriously blue sky and not black storm clouds. Wild winds swept along their path, stirring the plants that had grown over the stone walkway.
They were in a section of the palace that must have been abandoned for some time for the paths to be so untended.
Every bird in the capital began to chirp or sing, and far, far away, there was the sound of a great number of voices calling out. Cheering, Tiiran thought, but that wasn’t how palace fighting went as far as he knew. Victorious nobles kept their cheering to themselves, or required it of an audience when officially crowned later. But neverduringthe fighting.
If fighting was indeed happening.
“Orin,” Tiiran said again, whining but unable to stop, “tell me.”
“A group of us went in to find and free any prisoners,” Orin answered, pulling Tiiran tighter to him. “The older sections of the palace were the likely place they’d be, if still alive, and conveniently, also the easiest way to get into the palace without using the main gate. If, say, you grew up here and your parents were part of the old queen’s palace guard and knew about such things, you might use that information. Nikoly and I insisted that we be a part of this group.”
Nikoly glanced back again.
Orin took a deep breath, probably starting to get winded no matter how little Tiiran weighed. “We took the place easily, found many like those you see before you, but not you, Tiiran. Not a trace of you, nor any word from anyone who had seen you. We thought….” He stopped.
“Freed himself,” Nikoly remarked, halting when Orin did even though he hadn’t turned around. “Of course he did.”
“I didn’t think anyone would come for me.” Tiiran stared hard at the line of Nikoly’s back. “And I didn’t want you to. I wanted you safe.” He suppressed a cough so he could go on. “I thought you’d gone, Nikoly. When he said…. I hoped you’d gone.”
“Whenwhosaid?” Nikoly turned at last. “Captain Pash?” Eyes bright, blood across his face, Nikoly worked his jaw and then slid his remaining sword into its place at his back before turning around again. “It’s my place to protect you, Tiiran. I swore to it.”
“Wild-heart,” Orin murmured. “He’ll need a firm hand.”
“You weren’t supposed to swear to me yet,” Tiiran growled at Nikoly, or attempted to, but his coughs would no longer be denied.
“He can’t go much farther like this,” Nikoly said, evidently to Orin, who began to move again, faster than before.
Tiiran groaned and closed his eyes when the fit finally subsided, half a dozen opinions gathered on his tongue that he infuriatingly could not say.
“I think we can rest here for a moment,” Orin remarked, the only calm one among them, although perhaps that was a lie too, and like Nikoly and Tiiran, Orin was a wrathful beast at heart. That must be so, for Orin had fires in his gaze that he revealed only with those he trusted. Nikoly and Orin burned inside and that’s why they were so warm, Tiiran decided, then was startled into opening his eyes when he was carefully placed onto a stone bench.
Water trickled somewhere behind him. The air buzzed and smelled of flowers. The sky remained piercingly blue. Tiiran was warm under the sun and Nikoly was kneeling before him and trying to wipe Tiiran’s face with a small, wet cloth.
“Shush.” Orin put a hand in Tiiran’s hair to tell him to be still, so Tiiran closed his mouth and merely watched Nikoly while Nikoly delicately wiped his face for him and then went to the bubbling fountain not far away to wet the cloth again, not once meeting Tiiran’s gaze.
The fountain had a niche next to it for fae offerings. They were in an ornamental garden, probably one also long overgrown due to royal neglect. Yet the path that had brought them to the center of the garden looked tidy enough, and the water must have been clean or Nikoly wouldn’t have touched it.
Orin pulled the ribbon from Tiiran’s braid with the utmost care, untangling the strands so gently Tiiran barely felt more than a tickle. Then he used the ribbon to secure the mess at the back of Tiiran’s neck, where Nikoly also began to clean him.
Nikoly would not look up. Tiiran finally grabbed his hand.
“You should tend to that.” He’d never heard himself speak so softly, but he didn’t mind. He put his fingertips to the sticky mess of blood on Nikoly’s cheek. Nikoly’s gaze at last met his. “You’re a Rossick.”
Nikoly flinched, but raised his chin before answering. “Yes.”
That was all he said. Tiiran leaned back to look up at Orin.
“I didn’t know,” upside-down Orin answered the unspoken question. “Not then, although I knew it was a possibility. No Astvan would act as he does.”
“Tiiran,” Nikoly said urgently, bringing Tiiran’s attention back to him. “Tiiran, please.”
“You’re an eyes-and-ears?” Tiiran was a bit dizzy. The wine, he supposed, or the heat of the sun after so much time in the cold. Or it was Orin behind him, keeping him upright, and Nikoly taking Tiiran’s hands to wash those as well.
