Chapter Eighteen Nadir
The sun has set and the snow falls in thick flakes as I head back towards the tea shop in time to meet Lor. A chill wind blasts through the seams of my clothing, but one of the gifts of my magic is a tolerance against the cold. The door chimes when I open it, and several heads look up as I enter. Though the shop is technically closed for the night, people file in and out at every hour of the day.
Etienne explained that Rhiannon is a sort of home base for so many of these displaced citizens—a mother hen providing an outlet for their despondency and lack of stability. A place to gather and rally and plan for their futures. I’m so grateful she was here and could provide Lor with some of the answers she needed.
I nod to the group, brushing past and heading up the stairs. The workshop is nearly empty except for Rhiannon, who sits at a table carefully chopping herbs as though her thoughts are a million miles away. She looks up as I enter and smiles.
“Hi,” she says brightly. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to pick up Lor.”
“Oh, she left about fifteen minutes ago. She was going to wait for you outside. You didn’t see her?”
Instantly, sharp prickles crawl down the back of my neck, but I’m not going to panic. She’s perfectly safe here. Etienne assured me she was safe. She probably got tired of waiting and wandered away, and we missed each other.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my feet are already thundering down the stairs, storming back onto the street. Most people have retired for the night, and the sidewalks are quiet.
As I scan the area, left to right, my throat swells. No sign of Lor. The door opens behind me, and then Rhiannon is there, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Maybe she went back to the inn,” she says, repeating my earlier thoughts, and I nod. That has to be it. I try not to think about the fact that I just left Etienne there, and we should have passed one another in the street. Maybe she took a different route.
I’m going to kill her for not waiting and for scaring me nearly to death.
I don’t bother saying goodbye to Rhiannon, because my feet are moving again, and I’m focused on only one thing. I attempt to maintain an even pace, but I don’t know whom I’m trying to impress, so I break into a run, nearly bowling over the few stragglers navigating the street.
When I burst into the inn, I find Tristan and Mael have arrived. They’re in the common room bickering like an old married couple as usual. Etienne sits with them, shuffling a deck of cards between his hands, trying to keep them busy. He says it helps calm his anxiety.
“Have you seen her? Did she come in here?”
They both stop talking. “No,” Mael says. “You mean Lor?”
“Of course I mean Lor,” I say, skirting past him and then pounding up the stairs. She’s in our room. It’s the only explanation I’ll accept.
I fling open the door to find it empty, and now I’m plunging into full-blown panic.
“Where’s my sister?” Tristan asks. “You lost her?”
I spin around, and I’m not proud of my actions, but I can’t help myself as I grab him by the tunic and shove him against the wall.
“I didn’t lose her,” I hiss.
Tristan and I haven’t gotten off on the best foot, and I’m trying to find some common ground for Lor’s sake, but he can’t stand me, and I can’t really blame him. This isn’t exactly helping matters.
“Then where is she?” he snaps, not intimidated by me at all, and why should he be? He lived in Nostraza too. He was surrounded by monsters his entire life. What’s one more breathing down his neck?
“Etienne!” I’m shouting as I shove Tristan one more time and then barrel down the stairs. “Come!”
I pass through the common room with Etienne, Mael, and Tristan hot on my tail as I lead them to a quiet alley behind the inn.
“Tell me there are none of my father’s men here,” I say to Etienne, so very close to losing the tether on my self-control.
“There are no more of your father’s men here.” He sounds so certain that I want to believe him.
“Then where is she?”
Etienne swallows, and his eyes shift.
“Tell me! Tell me they don’t have her.”
“I don’t know,” Etienne says, his jaw clenching. “I suppose it’s possible they were hiding.”
“Fuck!” I roar. “How could you have gotten this wrong!”
His shoulders drop, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Nadir, I… was sure.”
“Not sure enough! Where could they be?!”
He’s pacing, and I give him a moment to gather his thoughts. Etienne is one of my closest friends—he was in the same prison camp with me and Mael all those years ago—but if he gets Lor killed, I can’t be held responsible for what I do next.
“Etienne!” I say, losing my patience much quicker than I intend.
“I’m thinking!”
Mael and Tristan watch us warily, their arms folded as I try to hold back the white-hot lash of my temper. I need to hit something. Tear out my father’s heart. Feel it cool in my hand as it slowly stops beating, his blood oozing between my fingers.
“I swear to Zerra—”
“You think I wanted this to happen?” Etienne yells, rounding on me. “She is my fucking queen!”
That’s when I snap. I stride up to him, jamming my forearm against his throat and shoving him to the wall. “You have no idea what she is. She’s your queen, but she is my m—”
I stop, practically biting through my tongue. Now is not the time for this. I catch the looks from Mael and Tristan. The first is studying me with surprised clarity and an expression suggesting he finally figured it all out, while the latter has the same confused look Lor has been giving me for weeks.
“Nadir,” Mael finally says, muscling between us and pushing me off Etienne. “This is getting us nowhere. We’re going to split up and look for her together.” He lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “We’re going to find her, my friend. I promise you—we are going to find her if it’s the last thing any of us do.”
His dark eyes perforate the haze of my terror, reminding me he will go to the ends of the earth to make this true for me. I don’t deserve him. I’ve never deserved him.
I nod slowly, doing my best to believe him.
“Etienne, think,” he says. “Where might they hide her?”
“The warehouses or the river docks,” he says. “There are plenty of abandoned buildings where they might have concealed themselves.”
My jaw clenches so hard that my teeth are on the verge of collapse. How could he have been so careless? How could I have been so careless? I should have double-checked myself before letting her anywhere near this place.
“What if they’ve already removed her from the settlements?” Tristan asks.
“I’ll signal the others to question the gate guards for anything suspicious,” Etienne says. “But this late at night, the gates are closed, and they don’t let anyone in or out. There’s more than a good chance they’re keeping her here until morning. Or until they can get a message out.”
Our eyes meet, and no one says what we’re all thinking. A message to the king. But which one? Some instinct tells me it’s my father. This has his stink all over it.
“Okay, then do it,” I say to Etienne. “Mael, you go with him and search the docks. Tristan, we’ll head to the warehouses.”
Everyone nods, and Etienne and Mael jog off while Tristan and I head in the opposite direction.
We haunt the shadows as we prowl past the buildings. It’s probably best not to attract too much attention in the event more of my father’s men are about. We need to get out of here and as far away as possible.
The deeper we wind through the narrow streets, the quieter it gets. It’s clear this is an area best avoided at any time of day, but especially at night. Tristan and I look at one another and nod.
“Do you have a weapon?” I ask. Tristan pulls out a dagger from his belt. I’m not sure how skilled he is, but it will have to do. If he’s anything like Lor, then he at least knows how to hold his own in a fight. “Be ready to use your magic.”
Quietly, we stalk down the increasingly narrow streets, the towering buildings blocking our view beyond a few feet, casting long shadows where anything could be hiding and waiting. I try to focus over the panicked thoughts tumbling through my head. Listen for any hints or sounds of life or movement. I should be able to feel her if we’re close enough. My magic responds when she’s near, but we’ve always been in somewhat tight proximity when I’ve felt it.
Her name repeats on a loop in my head, over and over.
Lor. Where are you? Lor. Please be okay. Please be alive.
If anything happens to her, it will destroy me. Nothing will put the pieces back together if my father gets his hands on her. I’ll be a shattered crystal statue, ground to nothing but razor-sharp dust.
Our heavy breaths mist in the cold night air as we wade through the darkness, which feels like a thick wool blanket closing around us. Why does it feel like these shadows are alive? I pray with every part of my soul that Mael and Etienne have already found her, but I also want to be the one who eviscerates anyone who dared touch her.
Zerra, how they will bleed rivers of red.
And fuck, I’m going to enjoy every second.
We round another corner, and that same unnatural darkness surrounds us. There’s no doubt magic is at work here. It feels off, though, because I’m unaware of any power my father possesses to create shadows like this. I can barely see anything through it. I blink a few times, but it’s no use.
Taking a calculated risk, I allow some of my magic to slip out, forming a glowing ball to light the way. But it’s muted against the dark like a bright window dampened by a thin cloth. What is this? My only consolation is that it must mean we’re close to her. Why else would someone use magic to conceal this area?
We turn another corner, and I blink again, wishing I could see better. It’s like walking through layers of black gauze. Tristan stumbles next to me, and I instinctively reach out a hand to steady him, finding his arm.
“Thanks,” he mumbles in the dark, but it’s too loud in the stillness.
“She has to be close,” I whisper, hoping it doesn’t sound like a cannonball blasting through glass.
We round another corner, feeling blindly, using the walls to guide us, the darkness practically choking me. And that’s when I feel it.
At first, it’s faint, a weak thread of a voice I know like I know my own heart.
Nadir. Nadir. I’m here. I’m here. Find me, please.
Someone starts screaming. My name. Her muted echo bounces around in my skull, begging me to find her.
And then I start running.