It was tiny, with just a small fireplace—grated, of course, I couldn’t have my Keepers killing themselves while I was still in need of their visions—on one wall and a cot on the other. A small table wide enough for two chairs occupied the space between.That is where I found Jarius, his eyes closed and face relaxed, arms crossed across his thinning body.
“Hello, Truthsayer,” he rasped, his body unmoving apart from his cracked lips.
“Jarius,” I grunted, crossing the short distance between the doorway and the table before sinking into the only other chair. It creaked with my weight, and I maneuvered a bit to find a comfortable location.
“Not as comfortable as they look, hmm?” the Keeper said with a smile in his voice. How he could remain so positive in his situation was a feat beyond my comprehension.
Perhaps the prison beneath the Academywouldhave been a better location. But I’d told Rohak I’d disposed of the Keeper, and keeping him in plain sight would not have gone over well with my second-in-command.
“To what do I owe the pleasure today, King?” Jarius asked, finally opening his eyes to fix me with an unwavering stare. His eyes, like all Keepers, were an unnerving shade of ice blue—so bright and clear it felt like I could see the whole of time in his irises. Or that he could see the very depths of my blackened soul.
Maybe he could.
“Just a friendly chat,” I said, sliding the cup of tea toward him. Jarius cocked one white eyebrow at me before slowly untwining his arms and reaching a thin hand across to grasp the handle of the teacup. He brought it to his nose and took an audible sniff before his lips quirked up in surprise.
“Whiskey in my tea?” he cackled happily, taking a delicate sip before settling back against the rickety chair. “What an honor.”
“That’s Hestin whiskey, too. None of that shit from here,” I said, proudly. “It’s the last of it, too, Keeper.”
“Wasting the last of your precious alcohol on me, Truthsayer? You’re growing soft.”
I huffed a laugh as Jarius took another small sip, slurping slightly. He twirled the teacup in his delicate fingers before setting it down on its saucer with a tinyclink.
“A side of poison with the whiskey and tea, I taste,” he said quietly, his eyes sad, but it was the understanding there that felt like a hot knife through my chest. Despite our differences and allegiances, I’d grown to like the bastard over the past year. He was arguably more reliable than the previous Keeper I kept down here—one that had been my advisor since boyhood. There was something that drew me to him, made me let down my guard.
In another life, we could have been friends.
I shot him a sad, thin smile. “You know this is how it has to be, Keeper.”
Jarius sighed, closing his eyes again, and I was thankful to be released from his probing gaze.
“How long.” It wasn’t a question, just a weary statement.
Another knife to the gut.
“Minutes. Maybe a half-hour at most. I was assured it was painless. Like drifting to sleep.”
“Just a sleep I never wake from,” he said wryly, and I huffed another humorless laugh.
“Exactly.”
Jarius raised his head and opened his eyes. I expected hatred, anger, even pleading. But the sadness—the pity—I found swimming in his ice-blue orbs nearly keeled me over.
“I am sorry, King, that it had to be this way. That it has to end like this. You were given a burden at such a young age that no person, especially a young boy, should have to carry. We’re supposed to protect our littlest ones, not put them in direct danger. Not sacrifice them.” His voice cracked at the end of his statement, and he pulled his gaze away from mine to wipe at his eyes.
I felt my own grow moist at his declaration. When I was younger, I lamented the harsh unfairness of this world, the responsibilities that were placed in my lap, the burden I had to carry alone. But those notions were quickly shed—they had to be if I was to survive. Befriending Rohak was my only respite, the only other shoulders that helped to relieve the weight of my decisions, of my plans.
But now even he was lost to me.
A necessary loss, but one that pained me more than I cared to admit.
This path was a lonely one, and it was nearing its end.
“What is fair is not always right,” I croaked, scrubbing at the scruff on my chin.
Jarius gathered himself with a deep, shaky inhale before turning back to his whiskey-and-poison-laced tea before downing the remainder in two large gulps.
“No. It’s not, Truthsayer. I’m afraid I have no more to show you, no more to tell you. My visions are murky and muddled at best. Solace is hell-bent on destroying the Elyria we know, at besting Fate himself”—he shook his head at the thought—“I’m disgusted to say I followed her for so long. Gave false visions for so long and to so many, thinking they wereright. How many lives could I have saved, how much destruction could I have prevented, if I had the wherewithal to see through her lies?”
