She twists to face me. “You want to discuss that now?” A startled laugh puffs from her pale rose lips. “Right, then. You say my honesty is brazen. I’m not going to lie. The bond to you has been an adjustment. It came at a price I didn’t realize I was going to have to pay.”
I know Britta would never jeopardize her relationship with Cohen. It’s clear by the way she talks about him that she loves him. However, I wonder if she’ll ever see me past the bond. Will she recognize that I appreciate her rugged resilience? She may be slight, may appear breakable, but if there was ever a woman who could weather any storm, it’d be her.
Shivers make my body convulse while she’s still leaning away from me, considering our conversation. Without asking, I snake my arm around her and tug her over to me so our bodies are lined up. She lets out a surprised oof. I need the warmth right now. My hands itch to run over her back and along the curve of her hip, but I keep them fisted.
“I used to have a similar connection with Cohen,” she admits after a beat. I feel her ribs expand and contract against mine. Her hands move, sliding over my chest and shoulders, then back down my arms. She mutters something about my icicle body before continuing with our conversation. “But when I saved you, it was broken. I don’t know if it was because he gave me some of his energy to save you. Or if I can only be connected to one person at a time. That’s the hardest thing for me. I don’t know how this happened between us. Or how to end it. I spent the first while being angry at you for taking away what I had with Cohen.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m getting used to it,” Britta says, hands pausing.
“So what will happen to us?”
She rests her forehead against my shoulder and turns her chin down so I cannot see her face. “I don’t know. I wish I knew more about my ability. But the only Spiriter offering to teach me is bent on killing you.” Her left hand ventures across my torso and then back to her side as if she cannot decide where to place it.
“Your mother?”
“Please don’t call her that.”
I flatten her fluttering hand to my chest, like pinning a butterfly. “My father was a monster, remember? There’s no shame in wanting even the smallest understanding of her.”
“Thanks for saying that.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I think you’re the only one who understands.”
I wish I could erase the furrow in her brow. I imagine she’s thinking of Cohen. That makes me come to my senses and release her hand.
“Good night, Britta.” I roll to my side, facing away.
Chapter
41
Cohen
IN KATALLIA’S MAIN ROOM, WE’RE ALL GATHERED around the fire, aside from Omar, who sleeps upstairs. Leif returned from town minutes ago. When he entered the home, snow clung to his hair. Now, as he addresses our group, it melts into drops that stain the shoulders of his tunic.
“Lord Jamis gathered his followers and planned a rebellion, starting with the castle,” he begins. He launches into the story, sharing what he gathered in town. There’s no way to lessen the gravity of Castle Neart being taken. We all sit around, stunned into silence at the lengths that Jamis, the power-hungry, blood-spilling madman, has been willing to go for control. The country would be in better hands if the Akarians from the south were to take over.
We need to fortify our group and lead a counterattack. We need to get inside Neart and see if there are any survivors. And see if we can find King Aodren, who’s apparently missing. We need to put him back on the throne.
After experiencing Seeva’s ability to manipulate temperature, I have no doubt these women would be a boon in the fight to take back Brentyn and Castle Neart.
I say this, and the women share a disdainful snort.
“What you’re telling us may be the best news this country’s had in eighteen years.” Seeva stands in front of the fire, eclipsing the light.
“What?” The fire Channeler has lost her damn seeds. Best news? Horse dung.
“Lord Jamis has been a quiet supporter of Channelers,” Yasmin cuts in, in her low, straightforward way. She pushes back in a rocking chair. Forward and back. “How do we know you’re telling the truth about him being involved in the kidnappings? Lord Conklin was arrested for those, and the man hasn’t named Jamis. Perhaps his intentions in taking the castle were for the benefit of the people.”
Snow continues to fall outside the window, the piles now calf deep. Torima, who is curled beside the fireplace on an overstuffed cushion ahems. “It’s a horrific way to force new leadership, but—”
“But nothing.” A growl tears out of my throat. “The man murdered half the nobility. At least one hundred people.”
If I were in any condition to travel to Brentyn, I’d have left the second Katallia mentioned the rebellion. Britta knows how to stay safe. Despite my tendency to worry for her and go to ridiculous lengths to protect her, there isn’t anyone I’d trust more with my life and my brother’s life than Britta. Our last conversation comes to mind, and a hit of guilt gets me because I doubt she knows this. Doubt she realizes that when my life’s full of upheaval, knowing she’s a survivor is the one thing that keeps me sane.
“What kind of man can disconnect himself from humanity enough to massacre an entire group of people?” I scoot to the edge of a wood chair, elbows resting on my knees.
“You speak of the nobles’ deaths as if we do not know brutality.” Seeva stares down at me, eyes sparking like flint on steel. “In this kingdom, soldiers from every fiefdom have hunted our kind for sport for eighteen years. They’ve stolen daughters. Tortured mothers. The deaths of Channelers outnumber the hundred you speak of by more than a thousand. You tell me, hunter. What kind of men can disconnect themselves from humanity to murder thousands of women and girls?”
The validity of her point strikes firm—a hammer shaping a blade after it’s been pulled from a forge’s fire. The grief in her words pounds into me and profoundly shapes my perspective of the women who have suffered from the Purge.
I take a moment before answering. “I see how the Channelers have suffered, and I am so very sorry. I agree, change needs to happen. We cannot go on like this. All I ask is that you listen to me when I say Jamis is not the change you want.”
Yasmin’s chair creaks. She rocks back, rocks forward. “That may be. But until we know the truth of what happened, it wouldn’t be sound to choose sides.”
I push off my chair and pace away from the fire, having had enough heat today.
“What of our oath?” Leif asks the women.
“Your oath to us doesn’t require us to vow ourselves to your cause. We’ve already helped you.” That comes from Katallia.