39. Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
The marching of booted feet faded from her dreams and grew louder once Lux blinked open her eyes. The crunch of debris over stone sailing through the shattered window forced her to stand and creep to the fragmented glass. Her legs ached with every step. Her heart ached even more. Denial wasn’t a luxury afforded in the daylight. Lux peered through the window.
The Shield. They filed down the street.
An entire squad of them.
She kept to the shadows, but when they turned, their faces trained upon her parents’ door, her breath caught.
They couldn’t know. They couldn’t know she’d accompanied Shaw, broken into the prison, drained the mayor’s stores of lifeblood and set fire to its remains. They couldn’t know she was here.
Could they?
She glanced to the dried blood marring the tip of her finger.
“Devil’s tits.”
Lux shoved the worn couch back to its place. The rug was rumpled, its edges pulled back from the trap door, and she wrenched it open. When no phantom flew out to run her through, she steeled herself, slipping onto the rungs of the ladder. She could hear them at the front door, prying off the final board attached to its frame as she reached around the edges of the floorboards, tugging the rug up and over. She only hoped they didn’t look too closely, because she wouldn’t be able to cover the seams entirely.
She sunk below, darkness clinging to her like chains, the weight of the bodies above sending dust raining onto her head. She stepped back.
Muffled voices drifted downward.
“The mayor wants her brought directly to him. Unhurt. For now.”
A derisive snort. “As if she’ll come quietly. Did you hear what she did to Blackwell? Clawed his eye!”
A new voice chimed, “And now he’s dead.”
“Orders are orders. I’d rather deal with one crazed girl than have the mayor after me. Check every corner of this shack.”
Heavy footfalls sent more debris cascading down as they stomped over the trap door.
Lux released her breath at last, her body screaming for air. Clutching Shaw’s bag tight to her chest, she turned, following the tunnel once more. She would go home. She would tell Riselda everything.
She was going to need her help.
Lux threw open the floorboards of her home without a care if Riselda witnessed it. She’d planned to tell her all she knew—and all she’d guessed—and that hadn’t changed in the time she’d spent below ground.
But Riselda wasn’t there.
Lux smoothed out the rug, and with a quick sweep of the house to ensure no Shield had yet rifled through her things, she walked to her room. Shaw’s bag and coat were the first items to go, shucked onto her unmade bed. Aside from digging inside to find the bizarre, but effective, invention of Aline’s, she hadn’t looked through it. Remedying that now, she let Shaw’s coat fall from her shoulders before reaching for the bag once more, dumping the contents onto the mussed mound of blankets.
He hadn’t lied to her. There lay the rope and the knives. The vials of lifeblood. But Lux’s hand didn’t reach for those. Instead, her fingers enclosed around a small, worn book.
His grandfather’s journal.
She frowned. “Why would he bring you of all things?”
She flipped to the first page:
Keep it safe, Necromancer.
The cover fell closed. How had he known she would accompany him? Did he plan to give it to her all along? Or only if he were captured?
Her fingertips whitened over the fraying leather for seconds more before it fell from the bed as a door clicked closed.
Lux hauled Shaw’s things to her, crouching to the floorboards to grasp the old book. She winced as the leather pulled further away, loose at the back, but when she took a moment to examine the damage, it was to find another page folded within. She didn’t have time to read it, shoving everything inside her wardrobe with shaking fingers. The Shield could never find his things. It would damn her.
Footsteps descended the stairs at the same moment Lux materialized in the doorway.
“Lucena.”
She sighed in relief. “Riselda. I—” And like once before, her lips ceased to obey. A twinge deep within, and a burst of ice bloomed in her chest. What was the matter with her? Riselda’s arched brow, now raised in question, sent her stammering. “I…was curious how the rest of your errands went last evening.” She blurted the first thing that popped into her head. It was a pathetic attempt.
Riselda’s eyes narrowed before she laughed. It didn’t sound the same. “Wonderful. My preparations for the festival are coming along as planned.” Lux shoved her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “Though I am interested as to why the Shield is hell-bent on your arrest again, my dear.”
“They were here?” Lux hurried toward her workroom, inspecting it closer. But as before, nothing appeared out of place, and she couldn’t imagine the Shield to be gentle in their search. She turned back toward Riselda.
“They were. So was I, however, and unfortunate for them. I turned them away.”
“And they obeyed?”
“Of course they did. But I cannot protect you forever.” Riselda’s gaze hardened. “Not yet anyway.” She moved around Lux, studying her. “They did let slip a little something of interest, though. Apparently, a young man has been captured. And they’ve spent the morning torturing him for information. He must have done something terrible. I’m afraid they believe you may have done something terrible, as well. Have you, Lucena? Have you done something terrible?”
Her aunt’s eyes didn’t appear natural. Bile seared Lux’s throat. “I’ve done many terrible things, Riselda.”
She wasn’t sure if she imagined the gleam fading away at her words or if it’d never been there to begin with.
Riselda smiled. “I know.” Long fingers enclosed around Lux’s forearm. “Ghadra’s gossips have never been of the forgiving sort.”
If the touch had been meant in comfort, it had the opposite effect. Lux shook off her hand. “I don’t need your pity.”
“And I offer none. But you must go into hiding, darling. Even I can only do so much. Your imprisonment prior wasn’t your fault. This time… Well, I can tell from your face alone, you deserve the mayor’s wrath. And if he deems what you’ve done unforgivable…”
Riselda stared upon her dirtied nails as the unsaid words pressed down above them, weighing on Lux’s shoulders.
“He will die before he drains the lifeblood from me.” Lux’s voice was low, steady, and thrumming with an anger that pulsed and spat. She meant every word. She would carve his chest hollow, and there would be no one to bring him back.
A cackle filled the space between them. “I do adore your spirit, Lucena. I really do. Though that changes little now. Pack your things. I will purchase supplies, and you’ll leave tonight.” Riselda reached into the pocket of her blue cloak, pulling forth a small pouch. She placed it on the table. “As promised. Though you may not have much use for them anymore.” She smiled, her teeth laid bare.
Lux stared after her for a long time. Even when the door closed between them, and the footsteps faded. Until, finally, she reached for the little pouch, dumping the contents onto the table. The howler teeth scattered across its surface.
“Oh, dear Aunt. You know nothing of my spirit.”