Broken

will not give up. Not without a fight.” He moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Kira's uninjured cheek with the back of his fingers. The heat radiating from her flesh seeped into his skin.

“Seems feverish? She is burning up.”

Ussay put a hand on Octavion's shoulder, a gesture only a friend of his youth would dare. A servant never touched royalty. “May I speak freely?”

“Since when do you ask my permission?”

“You have been gone a long time. I do not want to overstep my bounds.”

Octavion turned to look her in the eyes. “We are still friends, Ussay. You need not ask my permission when we are alone.”

Ussay released a drawn out, sorrowful sigh. “You know better than I what infection can do.” She looked down at her hands twisted in the folds of her long white apron, then cleared her throat. “Perhaps it is time you accept her fate and let her go.”

Octavion reacted swiftly and without thought. Before he could rein in his temper, he'd turned and grabbed Ussay’s wrist to keep her from retreating. He'd transformed just enough for her to see the fire in his eyes. “You dare say this to me? After what she has been through? While I still wear the garment of mourning for my sister?”

Ussay peeled his fingers from around her wrist. “You have changed.” Her voice trembled but she held his gaze. “The Octavion I once knew would never place a hand on a woman and he welcomed honesty among friends.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

“You are right. I have changed.” He turned back to look at Kira and remembered the pain she'd endured at his hand. He would do anything to take those times back, to be the person he was before Shandira changed everything. But right now he had to focus on saving her life. “Do not leave her side for even a moment. I need to speak to my father.”

Without so much as a glance toward Ussay, he stood in his father's chambers. Lydia's listless body lay a few feet away on an ornate bed. Hand-carved posts stretched halfway to the ceiling, supporting the many yards of white gauze fabric that draped between them. More fabric cascaded down each post, held in place with red velvet ribbons and silver medallions.

King Belesgar sat near the fire, a large black book balanced on his lap. Without acknowledging his son's presence, he marked his place with a swatch of dark fabric and set the book on the table next to his wing-backed chair.

“Father, forgive the intrusion,” Octavion said with a slight bow.

Belesgar folded his hands in his lap, his expressionless eyes fixed on the fire. “Your concern for your sister is evident by your absence. Is she of no importance to you?”

“How can you ask that? I've spent the past three years protecting her. But she has you to see to her needs now. Who does Kira have?”

His father had only begun to rise when he instantly appeared before Octavion, their faces mere inches apart. “Servants-befitting a commoner.”

Startled by his sudden nearness, Octavion stumbled back against the bed post. The force of his body scooted the bed a few inches across the stone floor and caused Lydia to moan. Both men were immediately at her side. Octavion took her hand while his father stroked her hair.

“Lydia?” Octavion said, but she didn't respond.

“Perhaps if I bring Kira here,” Octavion said, gently laying Lydia's hand at her side. “If they were together, maybe the Crystor would work its magic and heal them both.”

“And what excuse would you give for her absence? We've already deceived the entire kingdom into thinking your sister is dead. Another death so soon would bring suspicion and I will not risk our enemies discovering Lydia is alive.”

“You have to admit it would be worth a try. The Crystor is very powerful when it is working properly. I have seen Kira grow into a strong woman-in part as a result of the Crystor’s influence on her.” Although Octavion knew a much larger portion could be attributed to her feisty attitude and stubborn will.

“You are wrong,” Belesgar said. “There is more than magic at hand here. Something was taken from Lydia, something that gives her strength and fuels her will to live. It is the work of Sakhar-a curse filled with evil brought against her from Kira’s world. We must keep them apart, send Kira back from whence she came. It is the only answer. You were a fool to bind them.”

Octavion stepped back to avoid lashing out at his father. “How can you say that? If I had not bound them, Lydia would have died. It was Kira’s courage and sacrifice that saved her life. You should do everything in your power to honor the one who risked her own life to save your daughter.” He huffed the air out of his lungs and continued.

“You have no idea what that world is like, what we had to endure and what hardships we suffered. Is it not enough that we lost our home and everything familiar to us? Must we also suffer at the hands of our own father by being denied Kira's friendship and love?”

The king had remained silent while Octavion had his release, but at the mention of love he turned to face his son with anger burning in his eyes. “You dare suggest I deny you love? You know nothing of love until you have seen the mother of your children taken from you in a violent rage. You have not experienced sacrifice until you have watched your children swear vengeance against one another. And you have no right to speak to me about being torn from your homeland when you were not the one left behind to grieve the loss of your entire family. In one day I lost my wife and daughter to our evil enemies and was forced to push my other children beyond my grasp. Have you given no thought to what I have endured over these years?”

Octavion stepped back as if he'd been struck. Shame coursed through him as he realized he hadn't once considered his father's feelings. The king had always carried himself with the utmost nobility-Octavion had almost forgotten his father had a heart. Overcome by his father’s confession, he fell to one knee and bowed to his king. “Forgive me, Father. I misspoke.”

King Belesgar grasped his son’s shoulder. “No. It is I who misjudged you. I sent away a young boy and a man kneels before me.” He pulled Octavion from the floor and took him by both arms. Their eyes locked and Octavion saw his mirrored there. “I will do my part, but you must do yours. Use your gift as a Jayde and find a cure for your sister. If what you say is true and she and the human are connected, perhaps this will help your Kira as well.”

Octavion’s gaze shifted to Lydia. The darkening shadows beneath her eyes the only proof of her deteriorating state. “I have done all I know. I cannot find a cure if I do not know what ails her.” He pulled away from his father and returned to Lydia’s side. He gently pressed his finger against the faint pulse in her wrist. It beat once for three of his. “I fear she is dying, and there is nothing I can do.”

If only he had his mother’s gift of healing, then he would be of some help. As it was, he felt as powerless as when the spark of Jayde magic left him in Kira’s world. Although he now felt it surging through his veins, it took practice to control something so powerful, a strength Octavion lacked from his sojourn in the human world. “Tell me what to do and I will do it.”

The king stepped closer and put a hand on Octavion’s shoulder. “I fear there is nothing, save magic or miracle.”

Octavion shrugged from beneath his father's grasp and walked a few steps to a window overlooking the kingdom of Xantara. Though the evening sun had not yet touched the horizon, it gave an amber glow to the white walls surrounding the village. Magic, he thought. More magic than I possess. Not just a mere Jayde, as I am, but. . “Panthera.” He turned on his heals to find his father’s eyes wide and his stance rigid.

“No, I will not allow it,” Belesgar said.

“But it is her only chance. I will go to King Ramla and beg for his help. He will have a cure for both Kira and Lydia-I know it.”

Belesgar shook his head. “And how will he cure the dead? One word of your sister's false demise and we'll have more than our enemies from which to fear retaliation.”

“So you would rather your daughter die, than tarnish your reputation? What if she lives? Will you keep her locked in the castle so no one discovers your lie?”

Belesgar clenched his fists. “I care nothing of what others think of me. Your sister's fate belongs to the gods of Lor. If it be their will, nothing can save her. The same is true of your human.”