Cold Breath

Centrum Mundi was full of color. Caia could tell the unique architecture and glittering crystal towers of the Conclave bastion was all new to most of her fellow recruits. She and Dash had grown up here, surrounded by the magical energy that fairly pulsed through the air. But Caia was perhaps more familiar with the capital than Dash. He had remained mostly within the vast structure of the bastion, which was even larger than it seemed from a distance. If you lived within the Conclave's stronghold, you had little need to step outside of it. But despite the beauty and prestige of the city, Caia knew its dark corners. Where there was magic, there was corruption. But for the first time since this little journey had begun, Caia did not scoff or make sarcastic remarks as the others looked around in awe. Jervan and Dash took it upon themselves to be the official tour guides, explaining every building and landmark they passed. Caia remained silent, her hands in the pockets of her black coat and her head down; long blue hair hiding her face.

She hadn't been in this city since she was ten years old. She ran away after her parents' funeral. Good memories warred with bad ones in her mind, and her heart felt like a twisted lump of ice in her chest. She saw Tate and Briar out of the corner of her eye. They hadn't spoken much to each other since they left camp, but now he laid a hand on his sister's shoulder and pointed at a shop that sold enchanted art supplies. Tate caught Caia watching them, and she turned away, trying to stifle her emotions. Hex poked his head out of her pocket and looked around, ears twitching. Caia spotted the store where her father always bought his favorite brandy. She stopped short, a sudden urge to drop to the ground and cry coming over her. She sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Well, you kids have fun," she said, stepping off the curb. "Some of us have grown-up things to do." She could sense Jervan trying to catch her eye but she turned her back and kept walking. "I'll catch up with you later."

"You remember where the house is?" Jervan called.

"I remember a lot of things, Jervan." The words came out sharper than Caia meant them to, but she didn't stop to apologize. She was angry with Jervan for bringing her back here. She didn't want to relive her past, and she sure as hell didn't want to cry or show weakness in front of Jervan or the others. She had worked hard at building her tough as nails persona, and one little sniffle would undo the whole thing. Caia entered the liquor store and bought a bottle of the brandy. The shopkeeper looked at her curiously, but thankfully didn't ask her any questions. Then she made her way slowly to the cemetery. Her parents' bodies weren't actually there; it was customary for Conclave agents to be burned and scattered across the sea. But headstones were still erected, out of respect. Caia stood in front of the ones belonging to her parents. She stared at the names and dates under their portraits.

"Hey," she whispered, sitting down and crossing her legs. She popped open the brandy. "I brought your favorite, Daddy." She waved the bottle, as if he could actually see it. "Sorry I haven't visited before. I didn't really handle the situation all that great." Caia took a swig of the brandy, welcoming the burning trail it left down her throat. It helped keep the tears at bay. Caia, one. Emotions, zero. "I have to confess, I haven't handled many situations very well over the years. I've done some pretty fucked up things. Sorry mom," she added automatically. Emilee had never approved of Caia's swearing, and had always shot her husband a disapproving look. "Jedrek, you see what you're teaching our daughter?" Then he'd always wink at Caia, say something charming and romantic to her mother, and start dancing her around the room and Emilee would be laughing and forget all about scolding them. It was always difficult to stay mad at Jedrek Trudeaux.

Caia smiled at the memory, and sat in silence for a while sipping her brandy. Eventually she started feeling a little lightheaded and set the bottle aside. "I've been a pretty bad daughter," she said to the silent headstones. "A bad person in general, really. I'm honestly glad that you can't see me right now, because I know you'd be really disappointed. I am helping Jervan with something, though. Not that it's gonna do any good. These rookies he banded together for the job...Daddy they're so green you'd take them out and have Mom plant them in the garden." Caia laughed softly at her own joke, then it turned into almost hysterical laughter, and then suddenly she realized she was sobbing. She drew her knees up and buried her face in them, thankful no one else was around. Caia, one. Emotions, ten. Fuck emotions.

Eventually her crying quieted and she just sat there, face pressed to her knees, wanting to curl up and disappear. As the shadows lengthened, a sound reached her ears. Caia raised her head, scanning the cemetery. She couldn't see anyone or anything so she let her Syrienne powers take over, expanding her hearing. Yes, she could definitely hear a voice. It was soft, like a whisper but seemed to echo, so at first the words were hard to make out. They overlapped each other and sent ice skittering down Caia's spine. There was pure malice in the voice. She rose slowly, reaching for the whip coiled at her hip. Hex, who had been curled beside her, bared his fangs and began hissing angrily.

"Caia," the voice said, drawing out the vowels. "Little Caia, home again." The voice was singsonging, mocking her.

"Who are you?" she demanded, eyes still searching for the source. She doubted the speaker was actually present; the Conclave cemetery was heavily warded against evil forces. Someone was projecting their voice here, to taunt her.

"You will know soon enough," the voice answered. "But then it will be too late."

"Go to hell," Caia spat. The voice laughed, the sound like a thousand dead branches shaking in the wind. "Soon enough, little Caia. And I'll be seeing you there." And as abruptly as it came, the voice receded. Shaken and angry, Caia scooped up a still irate Hex and left the cemetery. She made her way to Jervan's manor house. Even though he could have lived within the confines of the bastion, he chose to live in the more secluded eastern outskirts of Centrum Mundi. But he still had Conclave perks. The house was large and elegant, with a cobbled walkway leading to the front door and a sprawling porch. He had several extra bedrooms, plus a small guest cottage adjacent to the main house.

"Where have you been?" Everyone was congregated in the front room when Caia walked through the front door. Jervan's eyes immediately went to the half empty bottle dangling from her hand. "I went for a walk," she said stiffly. "And I'm not doing roommates either, Jervan. I know you don't have enough rooms here for everyone to have their own. I'll stay somewhere in town."

Jervan sighed. "Adelita and Briar can take the cottage," he said. "There's plenty of room for two out there. Caia, you can have the back room by the study. It has a door directly into the garden." He gave her a sympathetic, knowing look that she ignored. "The other rooms are upstairs." He gestured to Tate, Dash, Knox, Thaddeus and Alan. "You can decide your arrangements among yourselves. The kitchen is well stocked, feel free to help yourselves to anything when you feel like it. There are several bathrooms. The only room that's locked is my study. No one goes in there without my express permission. Other than that, you have free reign. There is a garden out back." He nodded to Dash. "I do also have a small pool and a personal hot spring , which you're welcome to as well. Everyone get some rest, tomorrow the real work begins, in the guise of sightseeing."

Caia groaned. "Playing tourist? Seriously?"

"Blending in, remember?" Jervan looked annoyingly smug.

"I don't understand why Caia gets a room to herself," Thaddeus said, frowning. Caia turned to him. "I tend to sleepwalk at night," she said. "And I keep a knife under my pillow."

"On second thought, I do understand," Thaddeus muttered. "I think she'd give her roommate nightmares."

"Thank you."

Jervan rolled his eyes. "Everyone try to behave themselves. Good night."

"The old man needs to turn in early," Caia teased. Jervan drew himself up indignantly. "I happen to be in the prime of my life."

"Poor thing. He's senile," Caia said in a loud whisper.

"I heard that," Jervan called as he ascended the stairs.

"I'm impressed!"

"Brat."

Everyone split up, and Caia could hear the boys arguing about rooms upstairs. Caia went into her own room, pulling the curtains back to reveal the moonlit garden her mother had planted. Caia showered and slipped into a long-sleeved, faded blue shirt that was three sizes too big. She crawled into the soft bed with a book. Hours crept by and she found herself unable to sleep. Assuming the others had gone to bed, she padded into the kitchen to search for some tea. She was startled to see Tate mixing honey into a mug of warm milk at the counter. He was humming a song quietly to himself. When he turned and saw Caia in the doorway he jumped, spilling steaming liquid all over himself. He yelped and winced, pulling his wet shirt away from his body. Caia was across the kitchen and grabbing a burn salve out of one of the cabinets before she even realized she had started walking. She stared at the jar in her hand for a moment, surprised at herself.

"Take your shirt off," she instructed. Tate looked startled, then he smirked slightly. "We barely know each other," he said. Caia rolled her eyes. "Funny guy. Take it off." He did as she said, and she scooped some of the salve onto her hand and inspected the damage, doing her best to remain focused on the burn and not the tan skin or muscles underneath it. Of course she was only human. "This may sting a little at first," she warned. "But then the burning and redness will disappear in about a minute."

"How did you know that was there?" Tate asked as she gently dabbed the salve onto his chest and stomach. "Jervan keeps it there because he tends to burn himself in the kitchen a lot. It's a useful thing for a bachelor to have," she explained.

"You know Jervan pretty well." It wasn't a question.

"He used to work with my dad."

"Your dad was a Conclave emissary?" Tate looked surprised.

"Yeah. Hard to believe, huh? An upstanding member of society raising a screw-up with an attitude problem." She smiled wryly, turning to put the salve away.

"Listen, Caia, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. It was wrong of me."

"Well not totally wrong. I do choose to be by myself." Caia pulled a kettle and some tea boxes out of the cupboard to sort through.

"Don't you ever get tired of being alone?"

"Alone is better." Caia selected the raspberry tea and went to fill the kettle with water.

"How can you think that?"

"Loving people gives the world an advantage over you. If you love someone, there's always a way people can hurt you. All they have to do is take the ones you love, and you're wrecked." She was horrified to hear her voice crack slightly on the last word, and her hands shook slightly as she tried to set the kettle on the stove. "How's that burn?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"It feels much better now, thank you." She busied herself with putting away the extra tea so she wouldn't have to face him. His niceness was unnerving her. This wasn't at all a situation she was used to. Behind her, Tate cleaned up the spilled milk.

"I didn't really picture you as a milk kind of guy," she said.

"I was making one for Briar too. She sometimes has trouble sleeping."

"You really do your best to look out for her, don't you?" She finally turned around, cocking her head and studying him.

"Well of course. She's my little sister. If I don't take care of her who will?"

"Nobody," Caia said quietly. She thought of her own experience after being orphaned. The kettle started screaming, and Caia lifted it from the stove and poured hot water into three mugs. "If you two have trouble sleeping, drink some of this. It works faster than milk." She dunked tea bags into the mugs.

"Thanks." Tate looked as awkward about their civil conversation as Caia felt. She handed him two mugs, jumping slightly as their fingers brushed. This whole encounter was too weird.

"Tate is everything all-" Briar stopped short in the doorway, eyeing Caia and then squinting at her brother. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"I spilled milk on it." Tate glanced at Caia. "Thanks again, for the salve and the tea and everything."

"Um, yeah, you're welcome." Briar was staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Well, good night, I guess." Caia picked up her mug and went to walk past Tate. He moved to get out of her way and ended up stepping right into her path so they almost collided. "Sorry," he muttered and Caia thought she noticed his face flush. "Good night to you too," he added. Caia smiled nervously then hustled past Briar without looking at her, for fear she would notice the turmoil on her face. She made a beeline for her room and leaned against the door, shaking her head. "Get it together," she scolded herself. "It must be the brandy." Hex stared at her from the bed and let out a mew that sounded like a snort of derision.

"Who asked you?" Caia grumbled. She chugged her tea and curled up under the covers, trying to get some sleep before facing the horrors of going sightseeing with Jervan in the morning. And Thaddeus thought she would give people nightmares.