The Way We Fall

Chapter 148 (Tigris)

"Roche," Ikaros repeated the name slowly, like he was tasting the syllable, "She's interesting, isn't she?"

Tigris smiled fondly. "I wouldn't have employed her if she wasn't."

Ikaros tilted his head. "She reminds me of your mother's maid. She and I were close friends, once."

Something tugged painfully in Tigris' chest. "You knew my mother?"

Ikaros nodded, his eyes softening. "She was kind to my friend and cared deeply for all of her people. She made your father a better man. I was upset to hear of her passing, she was a lovely woman."

Tigris swallowed down a swell of emotion. "So she was," she murmured, "She wouldn't want her people to suffer."

Instantly, Ikaros' face turned guarded. He turned to her, his eyes dark with shadows. A sharp yet vaguely familiar scent, wild and inky, and Ikaros' obsidian veins pulsed. "I'm not coming with you, my lady." Somehow, he managed to twist the title into something sarcastic like Roche often did. Tigris found herself hiding a smile at the similarity between the two.

"Why not?"

Ikaros' jaw tightened. "Your father still rules, does he not?"

"He does," Tigris conceded with a nod, "Officially. But I have the power at the moment, and you'll find that I will welcome you into the city for the sake of my people."

Ikaros scowled. "Do you realise that your father chased me out of that city once? If he or his court sees me, I'd be dead."

"That won't happen," Tigris assured him, "I have the authority to overrule the court and my father is not involved in this."

"You?" Ikaros said dubiously, "You'd overrule your court's demands for an inkblood?" He emphasized the last word, glancing at her face hungrily for a reaction. Tigris kept her face passive.

"Yes," Tigris answered, holding the man's gaze, "I know inkblood does not equate to corruption. I've met the covens before, they are quite peaceful."

Ikaros' eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Somehow I don't think your father would agree. He hates inkblood and all who have it."

"Then it's a good thing that I am not my father," Tigris replied lightly. When Ikaros didn't look convinced, she lowered her voice. "My own brother has ink flowing through his veins, Ikaros. I do not condemn him for it. I have recently learned that what I have been taught about inkblood may not be what is true. And I seek to atone."

The whisper's face grew more and more wary. Tigris ploughed on.

"What my father did to you must have been a grave injustice," she said, "If inkblood is not as evil as I've been told."

Ikaros pressed his lips together, his eyes betraying nothing.

"I give you my word," Tigris told him, "You will not be exiled from the city. You will be welcome, and your service will not be punished but rewarded. For the sake of my people, will you please come with us to defeat the griffin?"

The words hung in the air. Ikaros, made of words himself, leaned towards them, wrapping the syllables and consonants around himself like a blanket. Tigris noted the gentle sway of his body as he did so. He opened his mouth, his face bright, and promptly said,

"No."

Tigris blinked in surprise, careful to keep her face placid. "And is there nothing I can say or do to convince you?" she asked.

The whisper shook his head. "I'm sorry. But while your father lives, I will not return to the city."

"Not even for the lives of innocents?" Tigris pressed, "Not even for your former friends?"