Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty One
Amareshi was a hive of activity. The sights, sounds, and smells were so overwhelming after days spent in the yawning endless dunes of the desert that I was immediately light headed.
This was the city of my mother. The birthplace of the woman I had missed everyday for the last fourteen years, a city she had once promised to show me when I grew older.
"Breathe, little menace."
My breath came rushing back at those words, my mind sharpening as I gave a shaky nod.
"Bad memories?" His lips brushed softly against the shell of my ear, the touch grounding me as I slowly took in the wide street, the bright colorful buildings all coated in a fine dusting of sand.
"Sad ones." Was all I said in response, my hand squeezing his lightly as my Tolokok weaved through the crowd of people.
Hardly any of them glanced in our direction, shifting around our group with the elegance of parting waves.
It was clear this was a city of travel, for the people seemed utterly apathetic to our presence, unlike those in Port of Arisha.
The first two days had been hell on the raw skin of my back.
With the hot desert sun and the jolting of Aziza beneath me, I’d had to hold back my cries only a few hours into the journey.
Each night we stopped, Rena laid her healing hands to my ravaged flesh and by the third day, the pain lessened enough that I could lean back to rest against Roan, which is how I was now situated.
My frame was dwarfed as it rested against his broad chest, his strong arms encasing me as he held the reins of Aziza.
We had yet to speak of our night under the desert stars.
I wasn’t even entirely sure if he remembered the conversation, he’d been so deep within that bottle of liquor.
I didn’t even know if I wished for him to remember or not.
I liked where we were now, a shameless game of flirtation with no true consequences.
If it were to develop, to tip over the edge of the precipice we now precariously stood upon, I wasn’t sure if it would work.
Wasn’t sure if our lives, so vastly similar and different all at once, could intertwine after this quest was finished.
What life was there for a man chained to his role as executioner for a wicked king and a woman who’d been hiding from her fate at his stake for the entirety of her life?
“We’re close,” Gianni called back.
Kairen had insisted we immediately meet with Wraith upon our arrival to Amareshi, already late with the extra day of recovery I’d needed.
The building, a large structure of beige stone, was deep within the city. It was an intricate design of luxury, terraces jutting out high above, desert plants strung from the rafters. I could hear the music from within, the raucous drunk laughter, and smelt the opium, sweet and earthy.
We dismounted and Gianni departed with words of luck as he went to stable the Tolokok near the Inn we’d be staying at.
“Well this looks lovely,” Rena muttered, her words barbed. “Are we really doing this?”
“Don’t have much of a choice.”
Kairen seemed exhausted, the burdens already weighing on his shoulders growing heavier since his flame had burnt me. I hadn’t seen him and Roan speak once since the night he had mangled the Prince's face, a tension now between them that couldn’t seem to be resolved.
We entered the establishment, the smell of sweat overpowering in the dim lighting.
My attention immediately snagged on the women scantily clad in bright swaths of fabric, some dancing atop a stage near the front of the room, others sprawled prettily across the laps of patrons.
Nearly all that my eyes met were Luanthian, the discovery chilling my blood.
One approached, hands reaching for me, a welcoming smile lighting her full lips. Her dark eyes were lined in black, her finger grazing my jawline.
“What a pretty visitor," she complimented, her white hair swaying over her shoulders as she leaned closer, a hairbreadth from my lips. “What have you come for, sweet girl?”
Roan gently pushed her back, giving me room to breathe as my hands clenched. His voice was deep and resolved as he answered. “We’re not here for that, we have a meeting with Wraith.”
Her eyes sharpened, hips swaying as she took a step. A pout formed as her hand reached for his white hair and my body moved without a thought, stepping between them, my back brushing his chest. Her eyes glittered as my arms crossed.
“So possessive, " she purred, turning and motioning for us to follow with a sigh. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to play with such pretty friends.”
We followed her out of the main area, passing rooms curtained with thick fabrics. Women and men alike stumbled down the halls, the smell of opium heady and thick, suffocating my lungs as we walked.
I counted the turns and twists we took, keeping track of the path, nails digging into my palms. She led us down a staircase so dark I could hardly see the nearly sheer, red fabric draped over her body.
It opened into an empty entrance hall with only a large wooden door, a tall muscled man standing before it.
His dark hair was shorn close to his scalp, his arms riddled with black looping tattoos.
My gaze narrowed on those marks, patterns that looked so familiar.
They were the blessed tattoos of the Goddess Soli, slashed through and drained of their blessings. This man was an exiled soldier of Tavari, cast from the army for some misdeed.
“They say they have a meeting with Wraith.” The woman crooned.
“Name?” The word was more of a grunt, his eyes lingering upon the tattoos of my companions.
“Kai.”
He disappeared inside for a moment, the sound of low voices echoing within.
He returned a moment later, nodding his head in permission for us to enter.
The room reeked of opulent wealth. It had low seating all around various corners, silken pillows piled high around people in the throes of flirtation and heady whisperings.
A man sat upon a raised dias, dressed only in a silken black robe that was splayed open.
Three women kneeled around him, their delicate hands playing through his hair, massaging his muscles, and feeding him sweet berries.
His face was unconventionally attractive, a harsh ruggedness to him.
He had to have been in his late forties, perhaps early fifties, but his dark hair was untouched by the greying of age, his eyes sharp and narrowed as he assessed our group.
They stilled when they met me, his body stiffening, smoke trailing from his lips as he studied my face. As if he saw something in it that was familiar. He was standing then, a sway to his steps as he climbed down from the dais, his voice low and authoritative. “Out, my pets.”
Even in the haze of drugs and liquor and sex, he held command, the tangled bodies strewn across the cushioned seating untangling and scrambling out the singular door. Only two men remained, their eyes clear of any substance, their postures lazy as they watched our group through hooded gazes.
Kairen stepped forth then. “Wraith—”
But he was ignored, a hand raising to silence him as his steps continued towards me until he towered in front of me. His gaze trailed over my lips, the planes of my cheeks, searching the grey of my eyes before his hand was reaching for my dark hair.
It froze centimeters from the locks, going utterly rigid, the veins constricting and expanding all at once, as if he were fighting to move his hand closer. His head snapped, his gaze murderous as it swept over my companions.
Roan stepped to my side with a smoothness that could only be described as predatory, his voice wicked. “Touch her and I’ll break every bone in your fucking hand.”
My focus moved back to the hand still outstretched to me, confusion slithering through my mind.
A deep laugh came from Wraith, throaty and dangerous. “You can control blood, Luanthian?”
“It’s amusing how often people forget how much water we’re truly composed of.”
I balked, eyeing the man’s hand with a new fascination. Roan could control the blood within a person's body? It should have scared me, the sheer power he possessed. Yet it only stoked the flame deep in my belly.
“Impressive. Now release me before I have my men gut you and your friends and throw you out to the streets.” There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “I will keep my hands to myself.”
The tension broke and he moved back to his dais, leaning against the edge as he regarded our group. His ringed fingers splayed open as he asked, “What brings a Solerian Prince and his companions to my fine establishment?”
“How did you—”
Kairen was cut off once more. “My business is in knowing, do not insult me with ignorant questions.”
“We seek information—”
“And what payment do you offer for that you seek?”
Kairen pulled the satchel from his body, weighing heavily where it hung from his grip. “We bring coin.”
Wraith laughed again, body languid as he lit a pipe and pulled a long drag of what smoked within. He released it with a sigh, gesturing to the room around. “Does it look as if I need your coin, Prince?”
“Then what would you like in trade?” Roan’s patience was wearing thin, fragile and frayed, on the edge of a dangerous precipice. I could feel the palpable tension, my nails digging deeper into my palms.
The man’s head tilted back as smoke billowed from his lips, body loose as a lazy smile spread over his face. His eyes drifted back to me. “If information is what you seek, information is what I require in return,” he bargained, a heavy finger pointed towards me. “And I want it from her.”
“No—”
“Roan.”
The first word spoken between the two men in days, a command. Roan went taut, like a bowstring pulled too far, his head slowly turning. Kairen met his stare, will against will. Moon against sun, gold warring with silver.
“Do they always speak for you?”