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“He has been spouting that for many years now,” Garrick told them both patiently. “It has not been proven.”
“I asked him for their ear a few days ago, and he told me he would get me what I wanted in exchange for something. I refused the something.”
“Cornelius says a lot,” Lucas said, his tone telling Cord he was merely humouring him.
“I would agree, but my mother was in the room.” Cord stood. “I can read my mother like a book. It is true. He has the ear of a Great Council Elder, if not two.”
“We are just destined for no peace,” Garrick huffed as he too stood. “What did you refuse?”
“Sloane,” Cord admitted. “He wants Sloane back in the household.”
“So Tegan will follow?” Lucas guessed.
“Yes.”
“Well, Salem will not let that happen,” Garrick assured him.
“If Zahra has compromised her purity...” Cord choked on the words. “Cornelius can petition for the betrothal to be broken. Sloane’s honour has been slighted, so he would be within his rights to remove him from the House.”
“Your brother is more of an Akrhyn than to shun her after what she has endured,” Lucas reprimanded Cord sharply.
“She was pregnant, with a human’s child,” Cord reminded him. “She has more or less shunned herself.” Cord bowed his head as the image of Zahra broken on the bed flashed into his head. “Although she did not deserve what she went through,” he admitted softly.
“What a mess.” Garrick rolled his head on his shoulders and looked at the ceiling. “I need to take Reflection and pray for guidance. Unless your Mark knows what we are to do?” His tone was light-hearted, but if Cord had offered a solution then, the Prime Castor feared he would take it with little hesitation.
“How is she?” Cord asked as he looked out his tower window.
“Tegan is well.” Garrick knew he no longer spoke of the youngest Holt. “She suffered few injuries that could not be healed,” Garrick informed him. “She does not know you returned to the Pure Castors estate, since we took you from the medical room. She merely thinks you returned here.”
“Good.” Cord nodded in acceptance. “She will only demand answers.”
“Is she not entitled to them?” Lucas asked quietly. “She is bound to you. I can only assume the bond is of the Ancient’s design. She could have been picked for you.”
Cord snorted. “I don’t doubt it. Tegan is a daughter of Harrian, or maybe Brindlelay. Either way, wrath is her nature. Vengeance.” Cord ran his fingers through his hair. “She is too fierce for the gentle Arflyn or Delfar. And Velvore has already picked his mascot,” Cord added bitterly.
“We have been taught over the millennia that Delfar was the beloved of Brindlelay,” Garrick mused thoughtfully. “What if we have it wrong?”
“What?” Lucas looked at the other Prime Castor speculatively.
“What if our vengeful Ancient is not the beloved of Delfar but that of Velvore? It never made sense to me that Brindlelay and Delfar were a pair.”
“Does it matter?” Cord asked as he fought back a sigh.
“It would make sense of your bonding,” Lucas answered him thoughtfully. “Brindlelay is strong and would make a good match for the Ancient of trickery, unrest and battle.”
“Are you suggesting that I am the embodiment of Velvore, and Tegan is Brindlelay’s creation?” Cord’s tone was unbelieving. “That is…ridiculous.” Cord reached for one of his robes. “Trust me, I am not the carrier of any Ancient,” he grumbled without looking at them. “I may bear his Mark, but I carry no more than that.” Cord looked at his hands for a moment. “I carry myownburdens.”
“You are a warrior,” Lucas told him gently. “Killing is what you are.”
Cord shook his head as if he was trying to shake the words free. “I need to see her.” He gave a self-mocking laugh. “It means nothing,” he told the two older Castors. “It means I have a stupid bond.” He stopped at the doorway. “I know I am taxing, and I know my faults.” Cord drew himself up straighter. “I do not know what is happening with me, but I know I am not Darkness, not like the other two who were gifted the Mark and turned.” He looked between the two Prime Castors. “For that, I thank you both for believing that too.”
Garrick smiled widely as he regarded the normally insolent young Castor. “You could never be Dark, Cord. Your Flare burns too brightly within.”
Cord dipped his head in acknowledgement, and then with a twinkle in his eye, he looked at the dirty dishes in his room. “I do hope to return to a clean room.” With a cheeky wink, he portalled to the Headquarters.
He appeared in the library and made a young Sentinel scream when she turned into the aisle and saw him staring back at her. Grinning under his hood, he pulled it lower over his face. He knew there would be stories about him and his fight with the Drakhyn and the actions of his stepfather afterwards. Sentinels were fierce warriors, but they were unfortunately also mindless gossips. Making his way to Sloane’s room, he paused at Zahra’s door instead. With a light knock, he waited for a moment and then tried the handle. The door opened, and he walked in confidently, closing the door behind him. She was sitting on a seat by the window, her hair freshly washed and pulled back from her face in a short ponytail.
Her face was free of the bruises and the marks the Drakhyn had inflicted upon her. Her blue knitted sweater and black pants looked clean and fresh. As his mouth turned up in a smirk, he saw that Zahra too had been receiving her meals in her room. She for different reasons than he had.
