Hierarchy (Book Four of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter: Thirty-Seven: The Dawn of Mourning

Katerin approached her manor with a strange, uneasy feeling. No one was at the gate. It was closed, but not locked, and once inside the grounds, she heard nothing of the usual sounds. Zino was always out working before now. Bandin and Rykir should have been working on the path, or moving some of the piling snow. There were hardly any visible tracks to the front door.

She shared a look with Fykes, whose eyes were wide and uneasy. Brazen let out a distressed sound, and Arjiah clasped her hands. Understanding something terrible had happened, they rushed for the doors, Telemir not far behind them.

Throwing the double door open as far as it would go, Katerin slid to a halt on the threshold and yelled. "Zino? Pilaird? Mom?"

A sigh answered her, and she looked up to behold Juen'tal. He sat with his bare feet on the head table at the end of the great hall, in front of the hearth which was burning low. He looked as if he owned the place.

She swallowed. What had he done?

"Wondering where all your servants are?" Juen'tal asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fykes tensed, arms lowering for his sword. "They aren't servants."

"What happened?" Katerin demanded, striding forward. It was her home. Not his. If he had hurt anyone... "What did you do?"

"I helped you," Juen'tal said, admonished. "Someone attacked your household, while you were away. Left your carpets bloody and your..." he looked to Fykes with an almost wishful look, "Your paid hands, in a sorry state." He tsked, as if someone smarter would have known such a thing would happen.

Katerin's blood flowed cold, dousing the heat of her worries. "Who was here?" Everyone had now gathered upon the threshold, and Katerin stepped down to the floor, feeling as if she should not feel so unwelcome in her own home.

"Kryrial, or so your steward said." Juen'tal shrugged.

The world spun around Katerin. The floor was no longer solid, and she could do nothing to stop it.

"How?" Fykes demanded, Ahlindrion momentarily forgotten. "There are wards. We—"

"He forced Typhon to let him in. Went after the princess you were hiding away." Juen'tal's gaze was passive, as if he was not concerned with what he said.

"Are they okay?" Katerin held a hand out to her side, and found Arjiah there, but she did not feel solid. The floor felt warped, as if it would break at any moment.

"No. Your princess, and the boy are gone. One of your guards is so mangled you ought to put him out of his misery." Juen'tal's tone held the same insistent arrogance that it always did. "But, now it's your problem. I've had enough of playing nurse." He thumped the table, picked up a pack that was behind the chair, drained the last of a goblet from the table and walked past them out the door, with a bitter smile on his lips.

The world moved around Katerin like a dream as she, Fykes, Brazen, Arjiah and Telemir rushed up the manor steps. Throwing open Zino's door, she held no thought of privacy, and when she beheld the pair in ragged bandages, with empty eyes and haunted faces, it felt as though the world shattered.

She froze in the door as Zino looked up at her from the bed. His arms looked frail, and he looked stiff, as if he was too injured to move.

"My boys, lady Katerin..."

Piliard's fist clenched, but she only leaned on Zino from where she sat beside him.

They said nothing more. Piliard's quiet sobs cut through the silence.