COF 2: The Soul Spells

22 | Reveal (I)

2412 Strilaxis 23, Velpa

The hours that followed after were a blur in Xanthy's mind. With Kymalin gone, Ezril and the Rekshais were able to whip the Necrom back into submission and soon, the soldiers were being hauled into the Temple's lower floors. Xanthy could only guess what would happen to them.

Xanthy sat with her friends on a table salvaged from the kitchens. Two of its legs were missing which prompted Reeca to prop it against a window ledge that happened to be the same width. The varichria had also weaved them chairs from the mattresses they found lying around in the room. From there, Xanthy nibbled on butterbread June procured from the kitchens for her.

It must have shown in her face that she's not fine. Even now, as she had eaten her fourth butterbread, June was still glancing at her with a worried expression. From across Xanthy, however, Ravalee blinked at her as she reached for the last piece of bread from the basket. It was the same look of horror the brownie had given Xanthy back at the royal feast.

Xanthy shrugged. Ravalee had been through so much the past few days. Let her worry about Xanthy's eating habits for a while more.

Reeca was telling them the story of how Ezril had dealt with Kymalin in the throne room. Xanthy blinked. That's almost the same time as Xanthy, Cyrdel, and Ravalee had been battling spirits in the floor just above the throne room. Odd. If they had been merely minutes late, they would have gotten caught up in the middle of that fight.

"Then, I bashed Kymalin's face on my knee," Reeca was saying. Xanthy flicked a glance at Ravalee and Cyrdel to see the paleness had shadowed their brown skin.

"Maybe skip to the end of the fight?" Xanthy turned to the varichria with a raised eyebrow. The varichria shrugged.

"Ezril dealt with Kymalin. I stopped the High Priestess from killing Kymalin," Reeca crossed her arms and leaned against the back cushion of her chair. "She let Kymalin go."

Xanthy's eyes widened. "What?" she shook her head. "She should have been stuck in a prison or something!"

"She'd be dead by now if I left her to Ezril's hands," Reeca rubbed her arms like the fog and the cold were suddenly getting into her. "Kymalin's soul will not even make it to the afterlife."

Xanthy, too, shivered despite the heat of the day. She leaned her wrist against the table, a half-eaten butterbread between her fingers. "But still..."

Reeca met Xanthy's eyes. "Still," the varichria started. A pause. Reeca tousled her short, golden hair. "She'll be back. She'll do whatever she can to get back to the Heiress's good graces after this defeat."

"That makes her more dangerous then," June's face darkened as he tapped his chin.

Xanthy regarded June from her periphery as she started out of the window and into the silhouettes of mountain peaks and trees beyond. His eyes were dark. He propped his injured arm on top of the table and Xanthy blinked at the hurried bandage tied around his wounds. Oh dear. Did he do it on his own? "We should be ready for her to strike anytime," June was saying.

"There's no need," Reeca put her hand up. June flashed her a look that bled annoyance.

Reeca returned the withered glare. "Kymalin will be back. We don't know how or when. Planning isn't going to take us anywhere," Reeca turned to the window and a timely breeze shuffled her hair. "Besides, we have more pressing matters."

Xanthy's fingers brushed the maximizer stuck into her pocket. Yeah. More pressing matters.

"Xanthy," June called from across the table in a gentle voice. "Did you find out who the thief is?"

Xanthy's stomach soured as she pursed her lips. Should she tell them? She shook her head. "No," she met June's dark eyes. "I didn't."

Reeca raised an eyebrow. "You have a freaking talent of reversing spells," she jerked her chin in Xanthy's direction. "You didn't even get a glimpse?"

Xanthy shook her head again. She had to protect Marin, even from her friends. Xanthy kept her eyes trained straight at Reeca's mismatched eyes. The thief wasn't Jarvik's daughter. "I don't know who the thief was," Xanthy repeated.

Reeca nodded before shrugging. She turned to Cyrdel who snapped to attention. Xanthy knitted her eyebrows. Did Reeca see through Xanthy's lie? The varichria coughed. "So, what did Ezril say to you before we were packed here?"

Xanthy narrowed her eyes. When did that happen? Cyrdel pushed his glasses up his nose, revealing bloodshot and tired eyes. "She told me to stay put," he folded his hands together atop the table. "She will come to us when the Temple's been, more or less, brought back to order."

Xanthy stuffed the last of her butterbread into her mouth. Gods, she wanted more. Could she ask for more? Reeca slammed her hand on the table. Xanthy flinched. "Stop thinking about food," the varichria chided.

Xanthy blinked. Was it that obvious? Reeca snorted. "You bite your lip when you're hungry or when thinking about food, eating, or the dining table."

True enough, her front teeth were squeezing her lower lip. Blood rushed to Xanthy's face. The table erupted in laughter, Xanthy included. Damn, that felt nice, like a quarter of Xanthy's worries just disappeared from her shoulders.

Their amusement was cut short when the door swung open, carrying with it the bustle of footsteps and voices from the corridors. Ezril stepped into the room and regarded them with her face pale and drawn.

Xanthy glanced at her friends and they nodded almost in synchronization. It's time.