Chapter 5 Nathan
Nathan
Iprowled the hallways looking for Jet.
We’d just returned to Emberhold around one in the morning. Deshawn had gotten information about a small group of DF moving near Copper Creek. Likely scoping things out for the bigger force they were going to be bringing through the portal.
Jet and I had managed to capture all five of them…with a bit of help from Hayes— dammit, Sly. It was tough to get used to the name change.
Sly had been punishing the DF’s forces since my Nexi was taken. He, along with John and Jesse, had shown us the reason their Faction’s reputation had become legendary after the first war.
Sly and Damien had planned out every operation we’d been part of so far. Their expertise in strategy and the DF’s capabilities were invaluable.
Adelaide hadn’t participated in the fighting for several reasons. The first being that her abilities weren’t stable. She’d lost most of them before Sly returned and, even after their re-bonding, hadn’t regained them all. She probably wouldn’t unless her entire Faction was recovered.
The second reason was to make her even more elusive to the DF, increasing their desperation to capture her.
Selene wanted Adelaide more than anything else.
We hoped that if a rumor were spread implying that Adelaide would be in Copper Creek at a specific time and date, she would become reckless and open a portal directly into town, giving us the chance to take control and reach Reverie.
Especially if she believed her information came from a trusted ally.
That was the advantage we had now that Jet was a part of this Faction. His contacts had been involved in Aurathion politics even more than we were aware and had planted a spy among them.
None of us knew this person's identity, but we had come to believe they were completely loyal to our side. Oren had tried his best to find out because the bastard didn’t like being kept out of the loop, but up to this point, it had been impossible.
I didn’t care who it was.
All I wanted was Reverie back in my arms.
Imagining what she was going through kept me up most nights. I’d survived it and knew she could too. But Reverie was the daughter of Selene’s most hated enemy, and there was no telling how she was treating her.
I saw Zane coming towards me, mumbling and laughing to himself. What the fuck was the crazy bastard doing now?
“Hey fuckwit, who the hell are you talking to?” I grinned, anticipating his answer.
He tilted his head and just stared at me for a few moments, then a huge grin overtook his face. “Drakk says to tend to your own business.”
“Who the fuck is Drakk?” This dude was losing it. There was no one here but us. The Passives roaming the hallway around us didn’t even register with me. They were completely insignificant.
“My Draxon.” He mumbled under his breath, then grinned once again. “Drakk the most incredible Draxon ever to grace us with his presence… to be exact.” Zane smirked. “He likes a more elaborate introduction.”
I shook my head but couldn’t contain my grin. “Sounds like someone I’d like to meet.” I raised my brows, “Just when does he think he’s going to make an appearance?”
Zane tilted his head, listening to a voice only he could hear, “In good time.”
“That’s it…in good time, really?” I rolled my eyes.
Zane just shrugged. “That’s what Drakk the Incredible said, so I guess that’s all the answer you’re going to get.”
“Well, I think the first meet-cute between us should be a ride. We’d both look amazing flying through the air, charring our enemies to ash.”
“Fuck no—and that comes from both of us,” Zane growled at me. “No one is riding us but my precious girl…no one.”
“No need to answer in haste, both of you take your time, mull it over.” I slapped him on the back.
“There’s no—"
“I’ve got places to be… talk to you both later!” I rushed off before he could deny me again.
I was determined to ride a Draxon, and if my Faction brothers weren’t willing, I might have to find my own in Aurathia. The idea of riding into battle and leaving our enemies a pile of blackened ash appealed to me greatly.
I decided the most likely place to find Jet was in the dungeons, so I headed in that direction. When I got to the bottom of the steps, that’s when the smell hit me.
“What the fuck?” I gagged.
The smell of shit and puke mixed with copper was so strong I could actually taste it. I’d have to brush my teeth immediately upon leaving.
I followed the terrible smell to a room at the very end of the long corridor. When I opened the door, surprise-surprise, that’s where I found Jet. He was standing in front of an enormous fireplace, heating a branding iron in the hot coals.
Two men were hanging from shackles that were attached to the high ceiling. Both were naked and covered in burns that were red and bleeding, and in some cases, actually smoking. One word branded into their skin over and over.
I squinted my eyes and tilted my head to the side... what was the word? Was that an R, E, ... holy shit... Reverie? The crazy fool had covered them in our Nexus' name.
Vomit and shit covered the area under both men, and I was pretty sure they were both dead.
Before I could pull myself from my astonishment at what I was seeing, Jet had pushed the brand into the closest man’s forehead.
The sizzle, along with the smell, almost made me lose what little I’d eaten today. “Damn man…” I gagged, “I think you’ve gotten everything from them you’re going to.”
Jet just shrugged and returned the iron in his hand to the coals, presumedly to brand the other man’s forehead next. “You never know for sure—until you’ve made damn sure.”
I blinked, then looked back at the two men hanging from the ceiling. “I don’t think either one of them can tell you anything more… and I’m pretty damn sure.”
“How can you know?” Jet walked to the second man and stuck the brand to his forehead. When he removed the iron, ‘Reverie’ appeared clear as day.
“The fact that neither has moved since I entered this room, even when a hot brand was stuck to their foreheads, is one clue.” I eyed him with caution. “And if that’s not enough, the fact that they're not breathing is your second.”
Jet slowly examined both bodies. “I guess you’re right.” He calmly returned the iron to its stand, then moved to the sink and began washing his hands. “Did you need something?”
“I wanted to know if you found out any more information.” I grabbed the hose from the wall and started washing the mess down the drain in the floor.
“Actually, I did.” He splashed water on his face, then turned, taking off his shirt and throwing it into the fire.
I glanced from his over-the-top muscles to my chest and made a vow to triple my workouts. “Well, no need to build the tension. What was it?”
“Reverie is being kept at the coliseum, as we suspected, and has been participating in the battles regularly.” He walked back to the sink and grabbed a rag, wiping the blood and gore off his chest.
I felt my knees weaken with this new information. I’d known instinctively that we would’ve felt if Reverie had been killed, but confirming she was alive through an eyewitness was everything.
“He also confirmed that they will be opening a portal into Copper Creek to try and capture Adelaide. The only disappointment is that Selene herself won’t be coming through.” He headed out of the room with me following close behind.
“Where are you headed now?” I asked, my mind busy with plans I needed to make, but finding it hard to focus, knowing it was only a matter of time until my Nexi was back where she belonged.
“To let Oren know. The man really gets pissy if he doesn’t have all of the information we’ve collected as soon as possible.” Jet took the stairs two at a time.
I smirked. He wasn’t wrong. Oren could even scare the psychos in this Faction at times. The man was highly organized, with charts and shit hanging on every wall in his room. He was a big hypocrite though because I seriously doubted that he kept us informed of everything he knew.
When Jet entered the hallway, everyone gave him a wide berth. Some of them had learned the hard way that he wasn’t to be fucked with. Others had been smart enough to recognize the predator in their midst.
Oren was leaving the house when we caught up with him. “What do you have for me?”
“Reverie is alive and being kept at the coliseum,” Jet said, with no preamble.
Oren reacted just as I had. “Thank the Ancestors.” He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Now that we know exactly where she is, we can finalize our plans.” He headed quickly toward the academy.
Jet entered the house, presumably to clean up, but I kept pace with Oren. “What do you need from me?”
He glanced at me, “I need you to contact Reverie's parents and let them know what we’ve learned. They’ll all want in on finalizing our plans. Also, see if you can locate Pantar. I’ve called for him numerous times in the last few days and haven’t heard anything.” This last was said in annoyance.
“Will do. He’s probably still prowling Copper Creek looking for more of the DF,” I shrugged. The giant Fellat didn’t keep us updated on his plans. I wasn’t as butthurt about it as Oren was. I wanted her returned immediately; how it was accomplished was irrelevant.
“Also, find Zeke and Zane and let them know what’s going on. I want everyone back at the house in two hours. We need to make sure everyone is on the same page.” He shoved open the doors to Emberhold and headed in the direction of the dean’s office.
I stopped turning in the opposite direction and headed for the forge. The forge was a new addition, like the dungeon. It had appeared a few weeks after Reverie had been taken, along with an ironsmith named Berrick Farrowe.
Oren had questioned him extensively as to how and why he’d appeared, and all he would say was that the Ancestors had come to him in a dream and directed him to help us in any way we needed.
Of course, Oren had thoroughly researched him and found him above reproach. His talent with crafting blades was unparalleled, so we allowed him to stay.
Zeke had started hanging out there regularly, learning whatever Berrick was willing to teach him. I found it pretty ironic since Zeke’s Draxon breathes ice. You’d think Zane would be drawn here instead, but that crazy bastard hardly ever left the dungeons.
As I approached the building, I marveled at how it seemed to have stood here for thousands of years instead of just a few months.
It looked like a forgotten chapel, its arched windows barred with soot-darkened iron, and its stonework streaked with what appeared to be centuries of smoke.
Moss crept between the flagstones, soaking up the water that constantly dripped from a cracked gargoyle spout above the entry.
I pushed open the massive door and entered the forge, where blackened beams groaned overhead, and from them hung chains and hooks that swayed faintly.
The great anvil rested upon a cracked dais like an altar, its edges worn smooth by countless blows, its surface etched with the ghost of every blade and chain that ever passed beneath the hammer.
The air surrounding it, thick and coppery, as if the stones themselves had drunk too much blood.
Just as I suspected, Zeke stood next to Berrick, admiring their latest creation, a set of short swords.
“What do you have there?” Neither man was startled by my presence.
“Proof that the student may have surpassed the teacher.” Berrick spat on the stone floor; it sizzled briefly in the heat before dissipating.
He was nearly as tall as Jet and Hayes, but he was hunched from age. His hair was entirely white, and a full beard covered his face, braided into a long plait that nearly reached his chest. The man must have been ancient, as Aurathions are known to look young for hundreds of years.
“I doubt that’s the case,” Zeke said, even as his chest puffed out in pride.
I stepped closer to examine the blades more thoroughly. They were both about 22 inches long and slightly curved, but that’s where the similarities ended.
The first appeared to be made of smoke-stained steel that absorbed the light. Faint crimson veins ran along the blade, as if there were embers trapped inside the metal.
The second blade shimmered with a pale, silvery glow as if a thin layer of frost covered it. Faint, jagged patterns resembling ice fractals were etched along the edge.
“I call them Ashfang and Frostbane.” Zeke muttered to himself, “I felt duty-bound to make them.”
Berrick grunted, “Always follow your instincts. A true ironsmith lets the Ancestors guide him.”
“Seems like a representation of you and Zane.” I narrowed my eyes. “If those are intended for my Nexi, I think a dagger to represent me should be your next project.”
“I’m sure you do,” Zeke smirked. “I’m not surprised you’d request she wear a phallic symbol on her person to remind her of you.”
“No need to make it true to size. It wouldn’t be practical for her if it drags on the ground.” I was designing it in my head when a loud bark of laughter startled me out of my musings.
“Damn boy, you don’t lack in self-confidence.” Berrick guffawed, slapping his thigh in amusement.
“He definitely doesn’t.” Zeke rolled his eyes. “Was there a reason you tracked me down?”
“Yes. Jet got the information we’ve been waiting for. My Nexi is alive and being kept at the coliseum.”
Zeke dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Thank the Ancestors. She’s alive.” He stayed still for a few moments, then got to his feet. “Now let’s figure out what kind of hell we’re going to unleash on those motherfuckers that took her when we find a way into Aurathia.”
“Fuck yeah, brother. Now you’re talking my language.”