The Catalyst

Chapter 5

Just one member of the cult remained on deck. Chevris, the one with the hyena demon. He came to Jaden, torch alight, no doubt keeping it aflame with magic.

"What happened?" Jaden placed a hand over his eyes to shield them from the rain.

Chevris hesitated. His brown hair spilled from the hood, water drizzling steadily from the tips.

"The ceremony failed. You have to leave."

Failed. The word rang across his thoughts. Failed his sister. Failed Matt.

"You're lucky he let you live," Chevris said. "You've made him waste his time. Go back to Fellera. Never come back."

***

Jaden woke up with his fists clenching the blankets. The sound of water being poured in a copper tub made him look up. It took him a moment to remember where he was. The Veicira Castle.

"My apologies for waking you, my lord," the maid said. The buckets of hot water seemed too heavy for her, yet she managed. "The queen would like you to join her for breakfast in her private garden, should you find yourself well enough."

"Thank you," he said, his throat dry as sand.

When she was done, she gathered her empty buckets and left. Jaden kicked off the blanket and stripped out of his clothes, a bit unsteady on his feet. He snatched a thick yellow bar of soap from the nightstand and slipped in the bath while it was still warm.

Scrubbing his skin and hair, he found he couldn't remember the last bit of the trip from Treon to Veicira. He had suffered from the worst fever of his life. Everything hurt, his head throbbing like it would burst into splinters. He couldn't eat without vomiting, which explained the scrawniness.

He thought about his dream. About that night, and what Chevris had told him.

Except the Dragon didn't exactly intend to let me go unscathed, did he?

Noticing the clumsy bandage tied around his left hand, Jaden took it off and saw that the cut was shallow. He didn't remember cutting himself there, but then again he'd forgotten a lot, so he didn't make much of it.

Getting out of the tub, he dried himself with a large towel the maid had left for him. Being at the castle was quite nice, even in a servant's room, he mused. Especially when compared to Treon's cheap, bug-infested inns.

A brand new pair of boots had been placed at the foot of the bed, and a clean uniform hung from a peg. Jaden hurriedly got dressed. Better not make his sister wait too long. He fastened the belt at his hips but ditched the jerkin, and left the cords of the long-sleeved shirt's collar untied. He put more effort into lacing his boots after neatly tucking his black trousers inside. Hair still dripping, he set out into the stone halls. Walking fast, ignoring the lofty tapestries that covered the walls, he made his way out of the north wing and into the keep.

The main hall was the quickest path to the east wing. Poor folk gathered here in the hopes of seeing the queen, waiting for hours on end for a brief audience with one of her representatives. They took numbers and were placed in neat rows like cattle, the castle guards surveying haughtily, arms crossed over shiny breastplates. Large and empty at the end of the central aisle, the ornate throne seemingly mocked them all.

Some of the guards were women, Jaden noted. That was new.

In spite of his rapid gait, some people did notice Jaden, and they whispered.

"Look, the mad queen's bastard . . ."

Jaden strode out of the hall with his fists clenched.

Tessa had ordered most of the east wing remade with thinner walls and wider windows made for halls flooded in daylight. Jaden paused before an arched door that had been left open to let the fresh breeze in. A guard patrolling nearby nodded at Jaden and gestured for him to make his way through.