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Perhaps he had.
His kind?
What did that mean?
“Even those with your foul blood can’t heal that fast. Not without help.” The carriage rocked again, the Boy's arm curling around me briefly before dropping again, the brief touch of pressure enough to tell me he knew I was awake.
If he knew, he was clearly saying all of this on purpose. I listened, the knot moving into my throat as more questions boiled.
“Did you call on her?” Batian snarled each word, his voice so unrecognizable that I wouldn’t have known it was him if I didn’t know he was the only other one in the carriage.
“I did not. I called on no one.” Again, Batian sucked in air at his response, the sound almost more of a snarling laugh. “Elara was able to help me, she dressed the wounds.”
Another gasp as Batian hissed through boiling anger.
“Did she see you?”
“No,” his answer was a flash. “I let her see nothing. I believe your message was delivered very clearly.”
There was a pause as the carriage rocked, Aeinya sobbing even as Batian hissed and snarled like an attacking snake.
“Good. I don’t want to make it again.” Batian made a sound like a boar as the carriage pulled to a stop, everything rocking and sending me back into the chair. I had no other option but to wake up at that point, my eyes fluttered open to the dim carriage as the last of the sunlight faded to nothing. The firm lines of Batian’s face were instantly replaced by a grin.
“Sleep well, sweet sister?” He crooned, all of that harshness in his voice instantly fading as he grabbed my hand to kiss it; it took everything in me not to pull away.
“Yes, have we arrived?” I forced out the question with as much of a groggy voice as I could, the threatening tears making my voice catch.
“For the night. You may sleep in my carriage tonight. I will see that you are brought food.” He gave me that familiar winning grin. This time, I saw it for what it was.
A mask.
A lie.
How long had he worn it? How long had I missed it?
I nodded before he slipped out of the coach, everything rocking as the door slammed shut.
My mind rattled, filtering through everything before I turned to the Boy, that shadowed mask looking right at me.
“I heard,” I whispered, turning toward the small pane of glass at the back of the window, and the figure in the wispy nightgown that was on her knees again, kissing Batian’s stupid golden boots. “But I believe you wanted me too.”
The dark shape of him nodded in the corner of my vision as I watched Batian move Aeinya to sitting, a servant setting a bowl of water and a cloth beside him. His mouth moved as he spoke, the words lost under the sound of Aeinya’s sobs as he cleaned her feet, the clean cloth moving over torn skin and coming back red.
“Adain is your mother.” It wasn’t a question. I stared at Batian as he cleaned Aeinya’s feet, the shroud of black nodding in confirmation out of the corner of my eye. “But Catalysts can’t have children.” Another nod.
This time I turned to him, he stood still, the black shape of him growing more and more ominous as the sun continued to set.
“But you said she is not my mother’s Catalyst.” Another nod, not that this one helped at all. All of the pieces were laid before me, but more kept appearing, all of them like fragments of glass, reflecting different truths, different lies, and none of them making any sense. “Does my mother have a Catalyst?”
He shook his head no again, the questions still pouring. I had seen her use her magic, seen the ice form from her fingers again and again.
“She has no Catalyst… I have no Catalyst…” He nodded again, but I was focused on my hands, feeling that power that was now a near constant thrum through my veins.
I had magic without a Catalyst, something that suddenly didn’t seem so spectacular if she possessed the same. Except, why was she hiding it?
Why was she lying to me?
“Last night, those words, they healed you with magic?” That one I already knew, I had already asked, but he nodded anyway.
