Evenfall, p.4
Evenfall, page 4
The russet-haired guard yelped, then quickly caught himself. His gaze darted to the pair of laughing boys I’d spotted coming from the tavern earlier.
“No pre-approved larger illusions allowed during the celebrations,” he shouted across the darkness while his partner brandished a blade from its sheath. “Snuff out your magic now unless you want me to fine you.”
The two boys chuckled wildly, but the beast dissolved, leaving nothing but the night sky once more above us.
“Drunken little shits,” the second guard spat as he sheathed his dagger, then gestured to the younger one to come over.
But the man, while acknowledging the call, turned towards our altered building instead.
Neither Ada nor I even dared to breathe as those amber eyes scanned the windows devoid of life, the shut doors tucked amidst the massive gray stones. All false.
“Come on, Tristan. Unless you want me to report a dragon made you scream, we have to get going to make it to the checkpoint in time.”
Grunting, the russet-haired man spun on his heels. It seemed to take him forever to actually reach the other guard. He swept his gaze in our direction once more, then faced his partner and nodded. Together, they marched down the street, muttering something about how the celebrations should be banned altogether.
A part of me sympathized.
Even if they were Mordecai’s men, I’d been around enough guards to know their positions weren’t the kind to inspire envy. Long hours and dealing with people who broke the rules—more often than not just to provoke them, all of it made even worse during feasts and parties… It was ungrateful work, regardless of the pay.
Still, that twinge of sympathy didn’t make me any more inclined to come face-to-face with them.
If they were anything like the men at home, their master’s word was law. Death would be preferable to disobedience.
When the darkness wrapped around the guards’ forms at last, footsteps fading as they turned into another alley, Ada’s shoulders dropped. She dissolved the immaterial wall before us with what couldn’t have been more than a thought.
“I honestly don’t know,” she said.
Seconds passed before I realized what she was referring to. My question. She had no idea how I’d traversed worlds, either.
I nibbled on my lip, then followed her down a different, larger street than the one the guards had taken. Lyra came to pad by our side from wherever it was that she had taken shelter.
With Ada in the lead, I moved automatically—pausing when she did, hastening my step whenever she sped up. Lyra occasionally zigzagged between us but seemed to take notice of my predominantly detached state and made sure to give my skirt a wide berth.
There was just…too much chatter clogging up my mind. I had no means to process the fragments of information I’d gleaned.
The sheer volume of the unknown produced a turbulent pressure that threatened to shatter me, so I focused on the one thought that stood above them all. One answer Ada could give. Hopefully.
“Ada, why does Mordecai want me?”
His name tasted like poison on my lips, lethal yet alluring. I couldn’t block the image of the regal Crescent Prince from manifesting in front of my eyes—the coiling silver shadows, the sensual curve of his cruel lips.
Ada’s voice dispelled the apparition. “For your magic.”
The bitter laugh that bubbled from my chest earned me a curious look from Lyra. Ada’s wasn’t far off, either.
“I’m a woman from Soltzen. We have no magic. Can’t have it by law. This”—I tugged on the pendant—“is just a stolen trickle.”
Bewilderment danced across Ada’s features, followed by a delicate frown. “Why shouldn’t women have magic?”
“Because it belongs to High Masters,” I said dryly. The old, familiar bitterness began to rise once more. “Because it is their right, and their right alone to wield the objects of power while our place is to swoon over them, croon how magnificent and resplendent they are.”
“But that’s absurd!” Ada exploded. Even Lyra cocked her large ears, sending a low growl to curl through the night. “No, it’s more than absurd. It’s disgusting!” Her brilliant jade gaze dug into mine. “And you, Ember, you have the power to change everything!”
She sounded so certain that my initial denial was briskly whisked away by curiosity. I opened my mouth, eager to learn the chunks of vital information I seemed to be missing when heavy footsteps sounded up ahead.
Ada cursed and stilled by my side, Lyra scurrying away behind an empty pot. I caught a flash of silver and black.
Guards. Three guards blocked the mouth of the street.
And they were staring right at us.
Chapter Five
It was one of those instances when everything seemed to slow down. Not from the kind of magic stored in my pendant. No, it was sheer, utter terror that brought things down to a crawl.
Even the thrashing, hard beat of my heart was spaced out, punctuating every dreadful slice of the seconds I stood there, helpless and exposed.
The guards’ eyes skimmed me with nothing more than curiosity, perhaps a smidgeon of appreciation, but narrowed their gazes once they saw Ada. I reached for her hand, hoping she would pick up on my intentions. If we could play the whole thing off as if we were just two friends out for the celebrations, they might return to the lingering glances directed at our appearance, not our identities.
But it quickly became clear Ada had other ideas.
It was my turn to curse.
That damned dagger was out in her hand and with it any chance we might have had of not drawing attention folded in on itself as abruptly and irrevocably as a weak portal. By the Sun, didn’t she ever think before acting?
In mute horror, I watched as something shifted within the guards. Recognition.
They leaped forward before the full impact of what had just happened could hit me.
The one on the left produced a blade of his own. Only Ada was faster.
She slashed the steel across her skin, only this time, she didn’t go for the palm. No, the bloody well of crimson gaped down the length of her entire forearm. My hand flew to the pendant, fingers hesitating just above the three dark, circular stones protruding from the silver surface.
Every instinct in my body screamed to call to its magic, to slow down time in earnest and give us a chance to escape, however short. But the way Ada’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the way her green eyes seemed to shine in tune with the thrumming radiating from her body… I waited.
And the guards stilled.
I didn’t know how long the five of us stood there, the sounds of the celebrations a muffled buzzing in the distance. While the streets we’d taken had been deserted, we must have veered closer to the center at some point. I strained my hearing, listening for any rogue steps, any signs that someone else was coming. But aside from a touch of wind that licked at my collarbones and caught in my hair, nothing stirred.
Not even the shouts I had expected to rip themselves from the guards’ mouths.
A steady drip-drip-drip fluttered to my ears. Ada.
I couldn’t tell what she was doing to the men, what kind of power she was coaxing from her veins, yet there was no mistaking the subtle changes that fell across their features.
Wrinkles loosening. Jaws unclenching. Even the matching hard sets of their eyes became softer around the edges, although the tension didn’t slip away entirely.
As if the threat that had had them wound up was now nothing more than a casual inconvenience.
While they were still staring our way, they didn’t seem to be looking at us any longer.
The hairs at the nape of my neck stood on end, and it took every ounce of my will to not give in to my curiosity and turn around to see what it was that had grabbed their attention. I didn’t know how illusions worked. Were they all the same, pliant to motion? Or would movement break this particular brand and cause me to fall beyond the reach of whatever spell Ada was weaving?
So I remained locked in place, observing not the guards, but Ada’s face out of the corner of my eye.
Her skin seemed to have lost some of its warm glow, her lips pressed tightly together as blood ran down her arm and onto the cobblestones, tainting them crimson. She wavered on her feet, like a blade of grass in a soft breeze, and the thrumming seemed to become louder. More forceful. It reverberated through my body, a peculiar sensation, though not entirely invasive.
“Stay perfectly still,” Ada hissed.
The guards broke into a run.
The edges of my pendant dug into my palm as I tensed, the urge to step closer to Ada, make us into as small a target as possible, thrashing within me.
All three men aimed for my side of the street. The hammering of their boots ricocheted off the building that was too close for comfort.
Together, they would never make it through the narrow space between the stone facade and my body.
Stay perfectly still, Ada’s words replayed in my mind. I had to trust her.
At least in this.
The tallest of the three pushed ahead of his companions. He breezed past me with room to spare, but the remaining two didn’t tighten their formation as much as I’d hoped. Especially when the gruff, dark-haired one still hadn’t put away his blade.
Silver flashed under the demure sapphire light, the guard’s hand pumping—
The contact sent me careening sideways.
Biting down a scream as his blade snagged the full skirts of my dress, I steadied myself, grateful the sharp steel had taken off a strip of fabric, not skin. As the footfalls grew fainter, then disappeared in earnest, some of the stiffness left my spine.
But only for a pitiful instant.
Ada swayed, and with the liquid looseness of her limbs, she didn’t look like she would be able to recover. I lurched to the side and snaked my arm around her, catching her the split second before she would have toppled down. My shoe skidded on the blood smeared across the cobblestones, back screeching in protest as I fought for balance with Ada now a deadweight in my arms.
Muscles trembling, I readjusted my hold. “Shit, shit, shit…”
I dragged us towards the buildings where Lyra was waiting, crouched in the deepest shadow. Not knowing what else to do, I lowered both of us down and set my back against the cool stone as I cradled Ada’s limp body, dreading every drop of blood that trailed down her skin.
Lyra let out a soft whine, sniffing around our feet and steering clear of the smears of crimson. The bleeding.
I needed to staunch the bleeding.
I reached over to tear away a strip of my already tattered dress when Ada’s head lolled to the side, her limbs eerily boneless.
“No, no, no, tell me what to do,” I whispered as I ripped the fabric.
Even if I bound her wound, I had no herbs or alcohol to snap her out of this state.
I exhaled. One thing at a time.
Carefully, I braced Ada better against me, then grabbed hold of her injured arm to inspect the wound. The slice was viciously long and…closing?
I blinked, lips parting in what might have been a curse if I hadn’t been so stunned. Lyra watched me patiently—now seated by my side—as if confirming what my mind refused to accept. I looked from her back to Ada, at that wretched gash that was, indeed, knitting itself together.
The strips of fabric fluttered from my hand.
The longer I stared, the lesser the wound, until there was nothing but the slowly caking blood left marring her dark skin.
Impossible, I thought for a moment.
Before I remembered that I was in another world, holding a girl who could weave illusions in my arms.
A weak laugh bubbled from my lips.
Of course people who used their blood to perform magic would have a way to circumvent the whole slow healing thing.
“Good to know you’re having fun,” Ada’s hoarse voice wove through the darkness.
I brushed a damp strand of dark red hair from her forehead, but despite my efforts, only laughed harder. “You have to admit you are quite fun to be around.”
She chuckled. “I suppose I am.”
A blur of white and black, and Lyra was standing with her front paws on Ada’s shoulder, licking furiously at her cheek. Then leaped up to smack a wet kiss on my nose.
The leaden weight that had lurked in the air disappeared thanks to her antics. I stroked her head, running my fingers behind her ears before gently shooing her away. Lyra didn’t go far, but she did give me enough space to help Ada back onto her feet. The street was still abandoned, so I took my time hoisting her up. Despite my care—and the steel grip on her arm—Ada swayed.
Stubborn, for not letting me keep her in a half embrace, but I made do with the situation, maintaining my free hand by her side just in case her tipsiness grew worse. Her falling all over the place wouldn’t help our cause, especially when Ada was obviously resolute not to waste a single second more.
At least Lyra appeared to agree with me. She kept wagging her odd, elegant tail and kept sending me what seemed like grateful glances as I took the brunt of Ada’s weight whenever her foot snagged against a cobblestone.
“I’m all right now,” she said once we turned left at the intersection where the guards had stumbled upon us. “Really, Ember, you can let go.”
I shot her a skeptical look but unlocked my fingers once I saw the determination lending her features a sharp edge.
I knew that look. And I respected it.
If she felt like proving to herself that she didn’t need my help, it was her right to do so. Though that didn’t mean I was about to stop looking out for her.
So while Ada focused on walking in a straight line, I kept an eye on our surroundings, offering my support in the one way I could.
The sounds of revelry turned into nothing more than a memory the longer we walked, and the utter lack of people marked these streets as part of the outskirts. Different from the ones I’d first explored, but blanketed by the same tranquility.
Shadows deepened, the blue glow remaining only in wisps that caressed the roofs. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn I felt the vastness of the rocky desert expand my lungs and fill me with something that eerily reminded me of blunt relief.
For all I knew, Ada might still harbor some nefarious purpose for getting me alone, although after everything we’d been through, the thought sat wrongly in my mind for the brief span I entertained it. Even if I didn’t trust her, I trusted her intention to get me out of Nysa unseen.
My fingers traced the three stones on the pendant. If push came to shove, I could just slip away again.
Mordecai, on the other hand… I didn’t think I could escape him on my own.
Even now, some dark and clearly irrational part of me kept wondering what would have happened had I stayed…
I frowned at myself, grateful Ada’s gaze was still focused on the darkness ahead. I was pretty certain she wouldn’t appreciate the uncanny way my thoughts seemed to swirl around one another when it came to the Crescent Prince, tugging me between this inexplicable allure that had ignited inside me and the harsh reality of danger I’d seen with my own eyes.
By the Sun, it wasn’t like I was gullible for handsome faces. If that were true, my father would have undoubtedly uncorked his finest bottle of liquor and married me off in a flash.
“Ember?”
Crap. Ada was staring at me, probably had been for a while.
I bit my lip and scattered the last remnants of the black-and-silver image filling up my treacherous mind.
“Those men,” I ventured slowly, tasting the question before letting it slip into the air. “What did you do to them?”
“Something I shouldn’t.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Now you know I won’t give up until you tell me more…”
Ada sighed, but beneath the discontent so evident in the flat line of her lips, there was also something else.
Pride, I thought with no small amount of amusement.
Given the state she had been in afterward, it wasn’t difficult to assume whatever magic she spun from her blood was no minor thing. Now I had my confirmation—as well as a nagging curiosity to extract every last detail from her.
But before I had the chance, Ada motioned me to stay back. She crept forward to peer around the edge of a two-story building with an assortment of small balconies jutting out over the street, then waved me to move on. Lyra, too.
When we caught up with her, Lyra took the front once more while I kept by Ada’s side. Only a single row of houses separated us from the rocky land stretching beyond the town.
My senses hadn’t been fooling me.
That touch of vastness in the air grew stronger, as if amidst Nysa’s walls, it couldn’t hope to rival the thrumming presence of magic. Here, it reigned.
The essence of this world, uninterrupted.
Although what surprised me even more than the staggering difference, were the trees standing sentry on the perimeter, their branches dark and sporadic leaves strangely colorless. Desaturated.
Not illusions. But life as it existed under the night sky.
The fragile, somber beauty of it nearly caused me to fall behind. Thankfully, Ada hadn’t gone far, and once I shook off the wonder that had filled me moments earlier, I noticed she had visibly relaxed, too. She thrust her hand in her hair in a casual gesture, revealing the not-so-long-ago-sliced-up forearm.
My eyes narrowed on the nearly unmarred skin. We still had unfinished business between us.
“So,” I tried again. “What did you say you did to those guards?”
Ada snorted but followed it up with a conspirator’s look.
If she continued in this direction, I just might grow fond of her in earnest.
She brushed a hand down the sleeve of her tunic and flicked off the few bits of dried blood that had still clung to her skin. “What you’ve seen in town, the decorations, displays, the wares they were selling… Those were just products of Illusionists and Magicians. The former affect the mind, the latter the body.”
I nodded. I figured as much, though it was nice to hear I’d hit the mark.
