To Be King

Racqein always had pride in his ability to keep his emotions off his face but Paen put him to shame. Paen’s smile was ever easy, friendly, and in-control as Racqein told him about Cruxion and his goals. As far as Racqein could tell Paen not only believed him but took it all in stride. At least Racqein was no longer being interrogated. The conversation moved on to lighter topics as Paen and Issa began telling Marisol various Kreishan stories and jokes. Every once in a while Issa or Paen would slip into their native tongue and say something that sent Paen’s entourage into fits of laughter.

No one spoke to Racqein which was just fine with him. It let him focus on scanning the tall grasses for any sign of Orfen. He kept “adjusting” his eye patch, a clear signal. If Orfen could see him he would know it's safe to approach cautiously.

After about an hour of this, Paen looked back and said, “why do you keep doing that? It can’t be that uncomfortable.”

Racqein’s hands immediately dropped to his sides as if chastised. He hadn’t even been aware of Paen noticing him. The interrogation begins again.

“You should tell him about Orfen... he might be able to help.”

“That’s a lot to entrust him with.”

“Orfen could be dying...” Those words in his mind were like a punch to the gut. He jerked forward, almost doubling over. “It’s worth the risk.”

Racqein’s jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists. Paen started to speak again, asking, “are you-?”

Racqein interrupted, “it’s a signal.” The warmth of Cruxion’s approval filled his chest and emboldened him to keep talking even if his instincts screamed not to trust. “Our friend was hurt by the soldiers and ran off. I’m trying to tell him it’s safe... If he can see me.”

Paen raised an eyebrow, “how badly hurt?”

“Not sure... it looked bad but...”

“What does your friend look like? Perhaps my men can search the grass fields for him.”

This, Racqein hesitated to answer. Marisol’s big brown doe eyes flicked between the two of them. When Paen looked about to say something else, she interjected, “he’s a werelion. He also has a cute, fluffy little golden-brown housecat form and in his human form he’s a bit taller than me and a bit shorter than Racqein. His skin is pale, he has amber eyes, and his hair is blond and poofy.” She moved her hands around her head to mimic Orfen’s hair. She dropped her hands into her lap and tacked onto the end of her rambling, “his name is Orfen.”

Paen stared down at her for a few moments as if processing. Then he raised his head and said some things in Kreishan. A few of his men peeled off, riding slowly into the tall grasses.

He looked back at Marisol and then at Racqein, “I’ll let you know if we find any sign of your friend.”

*

Once the werecat had fallen back asleep, Marsa quietly departed her room, finding her apprentice waiting outside, nervously wringing her hands, “Priestess, are you sure about this? Leaving him alone? What if he-”

“What?” Marsa shook her head at the girl, “steals some ink and disappears into the night? There’s not much damage he can do.”

When Elle only chewed on her bottom lip in response, Marsa sighed. With a slightly exasperated smile, she reached out and smoothed down the flyaway hairs on the top of Elle’s head. “I’ve kept you up too late. Go to sleep.”

Marsa’s hand heavy on her head, Elle looked up through her lashes, “where are you going to sleep?”

Marsa finished smoothing down Elle’s hair and folded her hands in front of her stomach. “A night long vigil in the shrine sounds quite nice.”