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Dilacs scoots to the edge of his seat, anxiously leaning forward.
“You saw him? He is alive?” Dilacs asks, his voice is soft, almost hoarse, tense with excitement.
“Him, no,” Khiara says, shaking his head. “But they say he is alive and that he is leading a resistance.”
“Then…” Dilacs trails off.
“There is hope,” Khiara finishes for him.
Dilacs leans back in his chair, hands gripping the arms tight. He growls, blinks, then shakes his head.
“What do we do next?”
“There is more,” Khiara says, but instead of continuing he stands up and walks back into the kitchen.
Dilacs and I watch as he silently moves past us. He picks up the bottle, pours himself another, tosses it back, but instead of finishing his thought he pours another.
“More brother?” Dilacs asks.
His eyes are darting between his brother and me. My stomach is a solid ball of ice. He knows. He knows what we were just doing, that I am hooking up with his brother. He knows and he’s angry about it. This is it. They’re going to fight and I have to stop that, I need them both. I care about them both.
A hundred thousand thoughts flash through my head, all of them fueled by fear. Fear of being found out. Fear of hurting either of them. Fear of them hurting each other.
Khiara walks towards us, his full glass almost sloshing over the edge. He stops an arms length from me, his attention is fully focused. Staring, almost glaring. He nods slowly, motions towards me with the glass.
“Is there something you want to tell us Gweneth?” he asks.
Shit.
15
GWENETH
“Gweneth? What are you talking about brother?” Dilacs growls as he leaps to his feet and positions himself between Khiara and me with his hands clenched into fists.
“That is for her to explain,” Khiara says, looking past his brother. “Is it not Gweneth?”
I swallow hard, unsure what thing it is he’s expecting me to explain.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Khiara tosses back the entire glass of alcohol, grimaces, then turns back to the kitchen.
“It seems the Maulavi were not as far off as we thought,” he says with his back to us.
There’s a slight weave as he walks away and the slightest of slurring to his words. Is he drunk? He hasn’t drank that much here. He must have already started before because I’ve seen him put away a lot of alcohol and never seen him even what I would call tipsy.
“She’s done nothing,” Dilacs says. “You know that as well as I do, better even. She’s been in your house. Under your watch. What could she have done?”
I know what I’ve done. But how would Khiara know that? He can’t possibly know that we were sent here. Can he?
Khiara pours another drink but it only fills half the glass. He lifts the bottle, tilting it up and peering into the open end. He growls angrily then throws the bottle and it shatters against the wall. I yelp and jump back. Dilacs growls and steps forward.
Khiara leans onto the table, gripping the sides with both hands, head bowed, shoulders hunched and I’m not sure what he’s about to do. It looks like he might be crying. I don’t know if Urr’ki can even cry or not. Zmaj don’t, but I don’t know about this race.
Dilacs moves closer with a reluctant hesitance. He reaches his brother placing one hand on his shoulder. He looks back towards me with confusion written all over his face. I grimace, choking on the truth of the situation. I’m caught, but I don’t know if I’m caught for what I’ve actually done or for something else.
“Khi, what is happening? Tell me,” Dilacs says.
