Blood Runner: Book Three of the Empress Saga

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

"What are you on about?" Krayson demanded.

Saveen's eyes widened with surprise when he spoke. From the other side of the train compartment, Josy laughed.

"Winds and storms, I can't believe that worked. Hit him again. Maybe he'll take a bath."

The Duchess sat lounging, hands clasped behind her head and feet propped up on the seat opposite her. If Krayson didn't miss his guess, the clothes she wore were another of Saveen's outfits.

"Starra's using the bath car now," Saveen said.

Josy shrugged. "Seems the sort that wouldn't mind company."

"Lady company," Saveen said. "I think Starra's been more than open about that."

Josy snorted. "I'll say. Maya's been stepping lighter than usual ever since the thing in Barrowmire."

Saveen stifled a giggle and plopped down in the seat next to Josy. She picked up lengths of Josy's hair and began working it into a braid. However, her eyes never left Krayson.

With a growing sense of foreboding, Krayson watched them interact. It didn't process. He blinked slowly. "What in the name of the seven thunders happened in Barrowmire?"

Saveen leaned towards him. "It was filthy," she whispered conspiratorially.

Josy sniggered.

They fell against one another, laughing and carrying on like a pair of village girls after their first taste of ale. Krayson didn't care how long he'd been preoccupied, because no matter how he looked at it, this was nothing short of unnatural. Royal assassins and the mighty would never be... friendly... with one another.

His shock was accompanied by an odd sensation. Not a ghost, but just as unfamiliar. It was similar to his ambition, the desire to become greater, but directed outward. Like anger, but not quite so immediate. The emotion boiled, the urge to pull Saveen to his side and keep her there away from anyone else. Possessive. Thunders, it was jealousy.

Saveen was his Bastion. His and no other's.

Trell probably thinks the same thing, Krayson realized. It made him want to punch himself.

Krayson watched as Saveen wove Josy's hair into a thick and intricate braid. She smiled as she worked at it— genuinely smiled— and the jealousy gave way. Krayson found it difficult to hold onto such a feeling when he saw her happiness. He was relieved to see that someone could still be happy.

Relief wasn't quite what Krayson wished he could feel, but it was far preferable to nothing. He wasn't dead. Not yet. Thunders crash on his father's head, but Krayson still survived.

And he still had a promise to fulfill, didn't he?

Krayson stood, accepting the aches in his muscles. He stretched his arms wide, facing the window and gazing out at the rolling landscape before turning his back to it. His movement had drawn the attention of Josy and Saveen. They watched him, the assassin wary and the dragon expectant.

There was a ward on the Merovech's bloodsong, likely placed there by Starra. He could feel it unraveling from the pressure being exerted against it. The spell needed to be renewed.

"—Conceal entrusted blood resonating within. Kept power, separate of me.—"

By using a couplet rather than a single line of five Aeldic words, the spell locked. Starra's ward would unravel itself before long, but his own would persist for some time afterwards. Once that was seen to, he used a somatic to ward himself from the uncomfortable temperature in the compartment. After that was locked as well, he looked up to see Saveen watching him with a look of smug satisfaction.