Abolisher [Drothiker #2]

33.

Syrene could now confine Drothiker.

Her daily brutal training with Kefaas left her drained and limp, but at least it'd earned her that much. The power roiled inside her—she'd made countless bargains to keep it from stretching its talons to her skin unless she willed it. She still couldn't shape it though—couldn't call the fire like she had the other day, or the ice, or anything else.

It still wasn't silent—but it was quieter.

The wound she'd felt in her soul the other day was there no more—but there still seemed to be some invisible scar marring her.

The scar she'd been distracting herself from with the training.

The whole incident gave her a clearing, a target. She knew what she had to do. She knew where to go from here. Even if path to this point had plucked at her piece by piece—she'd acquired a clear map to follow.

Sessions with Kefaas didn't only include the training. They included the scheming, too.

She'd learned Felset was using human bodies as hosts for her people. She'd learned where the making place was—or what, per se. She'd also learned how to close the Gates. Heal the Crack in the world.

It hadn't been much tricky to learn that last one. There had only ever been one key to every door.

It'd all begun with Drothiker. It would end with Drothiker.

Above all that, she was about to learn the Kaerions' whereabouts. Faolin had promised she'd bring the information today. All Syrene had to do was wait. She wasn't certain what she would do with them once she hunted them down—all she knew was that she had to keep them from being used by Felset.

In the meantime, Syrene went to visit the firebreather—finally awoken today, a week after the escape. Strange as it was, she'd felt a jolt in her entire mejest in his wake, and a knowledge had seeped into her bones that Vendrik Evenflame had awoken. It wasn't the same as it'd been with Azryle—which she now understood the cause of. This time, the absolute knowledge was different.

It wasn't absolute. It was more like a sense.

Drothiker was linked with the Kaerions. It was aware of their very breathing.

Kavous wasn't home when she entered the apartment, but Navy was there, sitting at the kitchen island, eating Kavous' ice cream. The spoon was still in her mouth when Syrene closed the door behind.

And that thud synced with a sudden thrum in her veins. Again, that awareness. It was stronger than she would have liked.

She suppressed her cringe.

Navy hopped off the counter, abandoning the ice cream. "Hey."

Syrene nodded her greeting, and continued for the room. She and Navy hadn't had the time to talk these past days. Syrene was too ... astray, to muster words—she'd merely spoken two at most, even with Kefaas. Navy understood, and didn't push.

Syrene's hand was at the knob when Navy informed over her shoulder, "The firebreather is still—"

Her words ceased when Syrene pushed open the door, and the light from behind her landed on the bed, where Vendrik should have been.

Instead, he was standing shirtless across the room, looking out the window, gripping the back of his neck—his posture tensed. Confused.

He twisted around, just as Navy turned on the lights. And Syrene's breath caught.

As Kavous had informed, Ferouzeh had been visiting the firebreather every few hours these past days, Syrene could only guess she'd healed the burn as much as she could.