The Thief King

21 | Devil's Claw

Scarlet was not alone. Kole knew she wouldn't be. At their arrival on her balcony, she had raised an eyebrow and a finger and closed the door. Kole had collapsed on the floor with Chase next to him.

They heard Scarlet finish up with whatever leviathan was moaning and writhing on her bed. It sickened Kole. If he had not been sitting, which was taking up most of his energy, Kole would have a word or two to say.

When Scarlet did appear, dark robe loosely tied at her waist and hair pulled into a messy bun, she scowled and swore at the sight of them. Incense wafted to Kole, enveloping him in a false sense of safety. He was not safe. Not yet. Maybe never. Nightmares followed him, monsters chased him. The songs may name him a black storm, but what use was rain and wind against claws and fangs.

Claws and fangs? Had he been struck by a poisoned blade? Had the cold rain shattered his senses? He surely felt shattered. And beaten. Oh, he felt a hell of a lot worse than beaten. Hope had left him. He had not realized it before, but he had clung to it. Craved it. How had he allowed himself to be duped by something as deceptive, as intangible, as hope?

Sitting in Scarlet's large armchair in front of the roaring fire, Kole felt cold. He burned with ice, with fury and hatred. Rancor. How had he let it get this far? How had he fallen so low? Rufus would be laughing at him. Pointing fingers and grinning like the sun mocking the moon. How could the moon ever think to shine as bright? How had he ever hoped to?

"Kole, here." Scarlet appeared before him, as warm and bright as the flames behind her. She smelled of vanilla, of purity shattered, of struggle conquered. She held a bowl of broth in her hands. It steamed and tantalized, but Kole had no appetite. He turned away.

"Kole, you must eat mate. You've taken quite the beating."

Scarlet snorted. "Again."

Chase sighed audibly. The next time he spoke, it was low. He was listing items, ingredients. Kole recognized a few. He was concocting a salve and a tonic.

"I need Devil's Claw and Withania."

"Kole those are-"

"Strong, I know." He still had not moved his gaze from the flames. Devil's Claw would take away the pain. Withania would restore his energy levels. Both herbs were dangerous used in excess and repetition, but Kole had no choice. He had errands to run. "I am going to need to pick up dry clothes."

Chase cursed. "You can't go back there, Kole."

Kole spun as fast as his body would allow him. "Are you going to stop me?"

Chase glared but said nothing. How could he? He did not understand what it felt like to have an axe poised over his sisters' necks. His mother's? No. Hope may be gone, and in its place a deep pit of darkness and sin, but that did not mean Kole would sit back and watch it happen. He'd fight. He'd claw. He'd rage. And rage and rage and rage...Rage? The word was too bloodless. Too clean. He wanted to carve a path of destruction towards a silver-eyed man with no name. See his silver eyes become gray amidst a sea of red, as unrecognisable as his name. His name. What was his name?

"Kole," Chase squeezed his shoulder, his good one. "I'm begging you to think for a moment. Take a look at yourself and everything, and think. Running back into the fray with anger tinting your vision is not the path to justice."

"Justice?" Kole snorted. "I strike no justice. When I strike it will be with fury and revenge. Justice is beyond my grasp."

"Fine. Not justice. Can you not attempt to stay alive at least? What's the point of getting yourself killed? Are you going to abandon your family for revenge? To appease your anger? Hannah needs you breathing, Kole. You're all she has left and abandoning her now is going to solve nothing."