Hierarchy (Book Four of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Forty-Seven: Whispers

When Katerin awoke, the first thing she noticed was the familiar bed. Though it was familiar in a way of the past. Blinking, she looked around her childhood bedroom. Her books were still on their shelf, her closet door was still askew from its bottom broken hinge.

I've died, she thought. Is it heaven or hell? But she noticed the sword at the foot of the bed, and the crumpled blankets next to her. The light was dim, as the window revealed it was late evening. Reaching for the candle, she spoke a simple spell to light it, and winced in pain when the spell failed to take effect.

A prick of fear settled in her heart, so she sat up.

Everything hurt. The clothes she wore were not her own, and once again, her wrist was bandaged, as was her thigh, and her chest.

She took a minute to wiggle her toes, her fingers, and scrunch up her face, and as she did, recounted the battle. She remembered Kryrial flying around the city. She remembered pushing herself so far that her magic use began to hurt her, and she remembered the lightning strikes that dropped him from the sky, and how they were not all her own. Alkyrindaun, she thought, groggily. And she remembered falling. Fragments of Roahn's face, Fykes eyes, Lugaria's voice.

She tried twice more to light the candle. A simple spell, one she had mastered when she was only beginning at the Tower. But twice more, it failed.

Sighing and ignoring the knotted feeling of her stomach, she worked on standing up. Prepared for dizziness, she met with it as her feet touched the cold floor. After it passed, she took one more look around the room. The Book of Ralore sat on the bedside table, and she grimaced. She had no desire to touch the book. No matter what it showed it, it was not worth allowing Lodyne so close to her, not worth the temptation of such power. She had never even considered that she had used too much magic, yet here she was.

Moving to the door with trepidation, she heard quiet conversation down the hall. The kitchen was alight, and so was the living room. It took her many seconds to reach the end of the hall, but when she did she saw Telemir, Roahn, Kindra and Brazen playing a card game and sipping from heavy mugs. Fykes was in the kitchen, sitting on the table and mixing something together.

"Our lady of the dead awakes!" Roahn said, grinning to her.

Her voice was loud enough that Katerin cringed. She blinked at Roahn. "Why are you here?"

"Well," Telemir began, "You took down Kryrial, but when Fykes found you you weren't conscious and so the... Colin, offered us a place to stay, but that place was on fire, so Brazen brought us here, and then some clerics came and—"

"What he means is, you're welcome," Rohan said. "Graiden sent me."

Brazen was out of his chair as soon as she appeared. Now he hugged her, and she leaned a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Just a bump on the head."

Fykes was out of the kitchen in the next minute, balancing a number on dishes on his arms. "Food," he said with a smile. Everyone passed by Katerin with a haste that made her dizzy, as they made for the kitchen. After passing bowl after bowl to everyone gathered, Fykes handed one to Katerin and laid a hand on her shoulder that he did not remove for some time, as she sat beside him.

He had bags under his eyes, bandages on his leg, and a tension to his face that told Katerin his smiles and banter were all forced. He was exhausted, and he was not in a mood to talk about it.

"How long was I..." Katerin waved a hand toward the bedroom.

Kindra laughed. "Four days."

"Sleeping' like a princess," Rohan said.