“It’s a start,” Siri grumbles, her voice falling flat. “Maybe with time, you’ll learn to love him as much as I love Suryc.”
“Maybe,” I mutter to restore some measure of hope for my Ddraig, not really convinced that such a feat is possible.
Chapter 10
A creaky floorboard wakes Cyrus in the early hours of the morning. His brow is wet with fever sweat, and his stomach begs for food and drink. “Who’s there?” he rasps, the memories of Wolf’s Vibría monster still plaguing his mind. “Show yourself!”
“Easy,” Wren hisses as he pads up to Cyrus, his dark clothes and mask blending seamlessly with the shadows. “I’m just making my rounds to check on you.”
“What’s kept you so long?” Cyrus wheezes, gratefully accepting a meager crust of dry bread into his mouth.
“I followed after Wolf like you asked, but I never found his meeting place. So, I spent some time scouting the area to see if I could find clues as to what he’s planning.” Wren hesitates, waiting until Cyrus swallows before he continues. “I think your brother’s working for the Déchets king.”
“I know he is,” Cyrus rasps, his throat dry and desperately screaming for water. “Fox said as much last night over their dinner. But what does my brother have to offer that wretched king?”
“In all my wanderings, I couldn’t figure it out,” Wren confesses, his mouth turning to a grim frown. “But I did get close enough to the border guards to overhear them talking about a shipment from Cassè. Wolf must have discovered something valuable in our lands.”
“Stay on it,” Cyrus whispers, his voice barely registering as pain stabs his belly like a thousand needles. “We’re moving tomorrow,” Cyrus informs his friend when he can speak without screaming, bowing his head in exhaustion. “I heard my brother arguing with Fox just after he declared his plans. We are going to the House of Piranhas.”
“Eat this,” Wren commands, unceremoniously shoving another hunk of bread between Cyrus’s teeth. “You’re in bad shape! What has your brother been doing to you?”
“I’m surviving,” Cyrus protests weakly, another pain lancing through his middle, “Though for how much longer, I cannot tell.”
“You’ll never be able to survive a long journey,” Wren chides, his hands clenching as though his strongest wish in that moment is to box Cyrus on the ears. “Is being a spy for your girl so important that you’ll die for it?”
“I’m in too deep now to quit,” Cyrus gasps, his vision blurring in agony. “Something’s wrong with me, Wren. I’m sick or dying or something.”
“Probably got an infection,” Wren diagnoses, carefully examining visible wounds that crisscross Cyrus’s arms and legs. “We need to get you out of here and properly treated. Surely Iris will understand if you get out now! I know she had her issues, but I can’t believe she’d want you to die trying to follow her wishes.”
“She doesn’t care about me,” Cyrus groans, his shoulders beginning to tremble as agony burns through his veins like a wildfire. “Anyway, there’s bigger problems right now. Did you hear me say we’re going to the House of Piranhas?”
“That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?” Wren questions as he holds a water skin up to Cyrus’s lips. He slurps greedily from the pouch even as pain lances through his feet.
“Not like this, Wren. She’d never condone the building of a master house on a throne of genocide,” Cyrus babbles, trying to distract his mind from his feelings. “My brother is planning to battle with the House of Piranhas. Rather than persuade them to join him through diplomacy, he’s planning to take control by force. He’s going to slaughter them, Wren, I know it! This isn’t what Iris or the Ddraigs want at all!”
“Cyrus, you’ve got to calm down. We’ve got to get your fever under control!” Wren hisses, brushing the sweating temples of his former leader.
“She wanted a master house built by the people, to unify them under a common goal. And she wanted Wolf to lead them as a good and gracious king. Iris didn’t expect the people to be trampled and beaten into submission by a tyrant. She has no idea what kind of monster my brother truly is!” Cyrus’s body twitches, his head shaking violently from side to side as his fever spikes. “I blame myself for this, Wren. If only I’d told her to be careful! If only I’d trusted her when I had my chance!”
“Come on, man!” Wren slaps Cyrus hard on the cheek in an effort to get his attention. “You’ve got to help me! We need to get you out of here before your brother comes to move you!”
“Will you travel too? Or will you stay behind and live among the nameless?” Cyrus’s words slur as hallucinations begin. In the corner, he envisions the dark, twisted body of Wolf’s Vibría creature. Its eyes glow red and silver as its body weeps blood from its pores. Another wraith walks haltingly toward Wren, inching closer as though to snap his neck from behind. It sneers when it notices Cyrus’s attentions, its grimy teeth gleaming in the darkness. “No! Wren, get away!” Cyrus howls, straining against the bindings around his wrists.
Wren whirls to face the unseen danger. Cyrus watches Wren’s hands pass through the body of the phantom like he is made of shadow and mist. “What? Cyrus?” Wren hisses, confused when he finds no approaching adversary.
A giant yellow eye appears at the window. Suryc’s nostrils flare with billowing smoke, and the sight nearly sends Wren screaming out of the room. Cyrus, you have no choice in the matter. I am forcing your body to use our bond to heal. You will allow me to save you! Yet despite Suryc’s intentions, nothing manages to stave off Cyrus’s fever.
“You can’t fix it,” Cyrus mumbles, his eyes unfocused as he shudders in his chair. “I’ve been attempting to draw healing powers from you for hours, Suryc. Whatever this
