House of Sand and Secrets (Books of Oreyn #2)(52)

Harun’s breathing is harsh, and he coughs into his fist. The fit seems to take forever, and when he is done, there are smears of blackish blood on his palms and fingers. “I -” He hacks again, then manages to swallow down the clotted phlegm. “We need to get him, I’ll do what I can – what I need to.”

What good he’s going to be now is beyond me – I’d be surprised if he could walk more than a few paces without falling down and breaking his nose. But we can use his help, and I suppose there is no better – or worse – time to pry into Harun and Isidro’s mess of a love. “How much can you see – or sense – or whatever it is your bond allows?”

“Not enough.” Harun lowers his hands and traps them between his knees as if he doesn’t trust them. “We’re not complete–”

Jannik slams his glass down so hard that the foot splinters and distilled wine goes spilling over the glass table. I start back as the cracks spread across the table’s surface. Both Harun and I stare in shock.

“When were you f*cking planning on doing it then?” he says, ever so softly.

“Who do you think you are–” Harun begins, but Jannik is seething; he stalks forward, eyes like eclipsed suns.

“Her I understand – she’s playing her own little game, but why can’t you submit?” Jannik’s magic is pressing in on me, making my breath stick.

“What are the two of you talking about?” I’m out of my depth and, thanks to the lashing anger of Jannik’s magic all around me, more than a little faint. “What–”

“He won’t feed off Isidro,” Jannik says. His voice is calm now, but I can see how much this restraint is costing him in the way his fingers are shaking. “Why?” he says to Harun. “Is it because then you are finally too much like us? Too much like a f*cking bat?”

Harun merely stares.

“You revolt me.” Jannik walks past both of us and leaves us alone in the room.

The air is lighter, releasing me from his spell. I press one hand to my breast in an attempt to settle my heart into a more steady rhythm. “I’m sorry,” I say breathlessly. “The damages – I’ll have the table replaced.”

“No, you won’t,” Harun says. “He’s right. It just cost me a f*cking irreplaceable Reyhan to drive the message home.” He laughs bitterly. “You shouldn’t let him go, unless you feel like mimicking my stupidity.” His laughter catches in his throat and chokes. Harun slumps down, hiding his face from me. It takes me a moment to realize that he is crying soundlessly, his shoulders lurching.

“No,” I say. “I– we’ll find a way to get him back,” I promise him as I stand. “We will.”

I leave Harun a sobbing mess, staring at his broken table and splintered glasses, while I go to rescue what I can of my own damaged relationship. Jannik thinks that I am playing a game with his feelings, and it is clear to me why he would see it that way. I have never allowed him to see my true motives for anything. So scared of letting myself be hurt, I have hurt others instead.



*



The carriage is still waiting. Perhaps Jannik has more faith in me than I do. Jannik is shaking and I don’t know if it’s anger or fear or something else completely.

I’m not happy about leaving Harun like that, but I have no choice if I am to prove to Jannik that he is important to me. Harun was torn and desperate and barely able to do anything.

My fingernails dig into the leather as I clutch on the edge of the seat. I can feel it giving way under the neat filed ovals of my nails and I want to scream. I want to do something. I raise my head and meet Jannik’s eyes.

He’s staring at me, his face set. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” I say back.

He grimaces. “What are you going to do – I can see your mind ticking away, I know that look on your face.”

“I have no idea,” I say. And I mean it. There’s no way Harun will be of any use in his current state, and all the will in the world doesn’t mean I can fight my way into House Eline and pull Isidro out. Eline Garret might be a Saint, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t War-Singers in his family, or that he has no other defences. And I haven’t touched scriv in months.

Magic – it’s always there, waiting for me to renounce Jannik and reclaim it. “Do you want me to save him – this love of yours?”

“What?” Jannik half-rises in the seat. “Damn it all, of course I want you to save him. Even if he wasn’t anything to me.”

“And is he?”

He covers his face with one hand. “Do you want him to be?” The words are mumbled, tired.

“No.” But it’s too late for that now. “There’s – I – need a dealer,” I say, and shudder.

“Scriv?” Jannik drops his hand and shakes his head. He’s still looking at the floor of the carriage rather than my face, and his voice is thick. “Speak to Harun.”

I snort. “He’ll want to know what I plan to do with it.”

“And I don’t?” Jannik says.

“You trust me.” Or at the very least, he trusts in what I can do when I put my mind to it.

“Is that what you think?” It’s not really a question, and he laughs drily. “You must know where the dealers are in MallenIve.”