Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
EVONY
You have all you need. –G.
– Correspondence intended for Evony Hunt. Vander’s Bunk.
Evony – Aedrialis, Sultira
Rain pelted my face, freeing my body of the lake water and blood that continued to leak from my nose as I raced down the trail. The dimming light of Aedrialis’s city center floated beyond the last trees, and I skidded to a quick halt as I reached the cobblestone road.
Fuck, I had no clothes.
My hands clasped over my arms, and a shiver racked my body. I spied the ugly face of a wooden, carved toad hanging over the entrance to a dirty tavern down the road, a long pipe hanging out of his mouth as he gripped his…
A loud crack of laughter ripped through the air as the side door to the brothel opened.
A thin woman dressed in little more than a night shift and an aged corset laced over the top slipped into the road and under the overhang.
She pulled a tattered shawl over her shoulders as she drew a thin smoke to her lips.
The orange tip burned in the darkness of the night.
She lifted her gaze and jumped as it landed on me. Her brown eyes widened as she took in my state, and her lips drew a thin line. She chucked her smoke, quickly scanning the empty street before beckoning me forward.
My body convulsed in shivers as I took slow steps toward her. She shrugged out of her shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders, ushering me around the building and into the back of the brothel.
Humidity crept into the small back room where the brown-haired courtesan pressed a dingy goblet into my hands.
The stink of unwashed bodies, sweat, and something I didn’t recognize shoved into my nostrils as I tried to smell the stale wine that swished inside.
The thin woman gestured to the lone, rickety chair in front of the broken mirror, and she plopped onto a dirty cushion in the corner, wrapping her arms around her bony knees.
Her full lips drew a thin line as she surveyed me, and she rubbed at the thin band of a dull, white ring on her forefinger. She had olive, tan skin, a lot like Lyvia’s, but a thick coat of garish makeup covered her face. The deep red of her painted lips was smeared, as if recently disturbed.
I grimaced as I took a large swig of the old wine, my eyes pinching shut as I forced the burning liquid down my throat. I opened my mouth to explain, and the woman narrowed her brows and shook her head.
“You don’t need to explain a thing,” she said quietly, her keen eyes scanning the bruises forming on my shoulders and my bloody nose. “Only one type of beast leaves marks like those.”
Her head jerked to my chest, where lines of scratches stretched from my neck to the small rounds of my breasts, disappearing into the tight band. I knew without checking my pouch remained. The stone arrowhead pressed against my sternum. Why did that thing inside Vander want it? And who was he?
Had he always been hiding behind Vander’s eyes, watching me? Had it been Vander at all these past months? Had that been the only reason he’d spent so much time with me?
My vision fogged as the questions spurred the twisting angst. I set the mug down and began to stand when the woman shot up and shoved my shoulder down.
“Don’t be stupid,” she commanded, weary lines forming around her lips. “Is he expecting to find you in a brothel?” She raised thin brows at me.
My throat bobbed, and I shook my head. No, this is the last place he’d expect me to run. She nodded slowly.
“You don’t belong in a place like this,” she murmured, turning to the small wardrobe in the corner. “I can tell by your hair, by your skin. It’s well-taken care of, if not dirty from the events of the night.”
My eyes drifted to hers. Lines of old scars dotted her arms and neck. Her thin hair was twisted up lazily in a bun, several strands falling weakly around her face, as if someone had recently run their hands through it.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Delia,” she murmured.
I opened my mouth to reply, and she held up a hand, shaking her head softly.
“I don’t need your name. Catch your breath,” she continued, rifling through the few garments that hung in the shadows. “I’ll find you some bread, some clothes. You’re no good running back into this storm while you’re exhausted.”
A muffled thudding began against the neighboring wall, a loud groan rumbling a moment later. Was I really safer here? Those silver irises flashed in my mind’s eye, and I wrapped my arms around myself. Safer than with him.
Rumbling echoed outside the brothel a couple hours later, and I frowned.
The storm seemed to have lightened by the time I got here…
Had it returned? The dry bread Delia forced me to eat sat in my gut like lead.
Nausea still tightened the sides of my stomach.
The low-cut, cotton travel dress she gave me draped over my shoulders, but it landed at my ankles, which at least would allow me to move quickly back to Mount Telum.
I jumped as the door creaked open, and the kind woman slipped quietly into the small space.
“The storm’s moved on,” she murmured. “It’s a couple hours before dawn. If you want to move under cover of darkness, you should go now.”
I swallowed. My brows pinched, in part for fear of returning to the streets, but also in gratitude. She had no reason to help me.
“Can I pay you for this?” I asked, lifting the wrinkly, rust-colored skirts. I had only a few coins, but it was the least I could do.
“It’s worthless,” she murmured and shook her head, the loose whisps of hair framing her face swaying in the dim light, but her eyes lingered on the pouch at my chest.
“Please,” I said, stepping toward her. “As a thank you.”
I tugged the pouch free and dropped a few coins into my hand. Her brows tilted as I extended them toward her.
“No,” she shook her head. “I wouldn’t get this for the rags you’re wearing, and I can’t tell the boss I kept you here. A patron wouldn’t buy ’em off me.”
My lips pursed, and my eyes cut to the dull white band on her finger. I thought I caught the sparkle of different colors as she wrung her hands.
“Sell me the ring?” I asked, uncertain why it grabbed my attention the way it did. “A patron might wish to buy that off you.”
“This?” she asked as she held up her hand.
I swear I felt something from the arrowhead hidden at my chest.
“It’s probably not worth much either,” she continued, but her pupils dilated as she stared at the coins. “But okay.”
She tugged the band from her finger and dropped it in my hand. I let the coins fall into hers, and she blinked slowly.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice scraping. My throat bobbed, and I held her gaze for a moment.
Her tawny eyes were thoughtful. “Leave when you hear me return to the room next door,” she muttered. “Make sure the door clicks on the way out. Good luck.”
With that, she slipped from the room. I slid the dull ring onto my finger and waited.
Minutes later, the deep slur of a drunken man barked down the hallway, followed by the soft croon of Delia’s voice, and the adjacent door creaked open. Thunder growled in the sky, and I took a deep breath before slipping into the dark alley and clicking the back door to the brothel shut.
Mount Telum’s glowing red spires reached ominously to the sky as I sprinted for the castle, my mind replaying the harrowing events of the night. Vander was not Vander. Something had slipped into him, and whatever it was, it wanted my arrowhead.
I needed to speak with Ronan. He’d been guarded around Vander since the beginning. Had he suspected something? My lungs burned as I pushed myself to move faster. What if Vander had seen me enter the brothel and waited for me to leave?
I shook my head. No, whatever creature lurked inside Vander would have clawed its way into that establishment to get what it wanted.
Something rumbled in the distance, and I frowned, glancing up to the clear skies. The storm had long since passed, and the sound sent my heart pumping faster.
I skidded to a stop as I reached the castle, taking the side servant entrance in lieu of the soldier entrance. The guards nodded to me, and I hurried down the hall.
I skidded past the galley on the lower level, where the cooks and kitchen maids were already busy at work. I slowed my pace as I neared the training yards, tiptoeing through the hall and into a large room.
The guard manning the armory nodded as I snatched a bow and quiver of arrows from the wall. My eyes lingered on the neighboring room, where we housed what remained of the rubelline weapons.
White daggers, air cannonballs, spearheads, and arrows sat in crates beyond the door. We hadn’t used any since the siege of Aedrialis last year. Since Mount Telum was one massive nullifier, they didn’t really have a use here.
I strode past the guard, and he lifted a head as I snatched a rubelline arrow from the stock. His bristly brows furrowed in question, and I shrugged.
“The high steward requested one today,” I lied.
He grunted his response and went back to sharpening the blade in his hand. Another rumble echoed in the distance, and my heart beat in time to the reverberation that hit the massive fortress. What the fuck…
I hurried from the hall, rushing past various rooms. My stomach hiked into my throat at each shadow.
Where the fuck was Ronan?
My thighs burned as I sprinted up the stone staircase to the base of the castle.
The red glow of the fortress lit my way in the dark.
The gray Juniper Sea met a powdery, deep purple smear on the horizon.
My gaze lingered at the docks in the distance, and I swear I caught movement in the waves.
I pulled my attention back to the matter at hand and ran the length of the rampart.
Relief swelled in my chest as Ronan’s voice carried in the distance. I rounded the corner, scanning the empty battlement when he barked something from below.
The training courtyard.
I rushed to the edge of the marble balustrade and pulled up short as my eyes landed on the back of Vander’s head.