Chapter 15 Devora
Devora
Mountain after mountain passed by the carriage window, the same gray and dark brown landscape mixed with icy silver as far as the eye could see. White-capped peaks loomed in the distance on both sides. The solid doors did little to dispel the chill from the winds as we rode.
Everett, Arowyn, Nox, and I had left two days ago for Tenebra.
It was all happening so quickly. I’d gone from months in a single room to days in a carriage, traversing miles and miles of foreign ground.
We had less than three weeks until the ball in Scarven’s mansion for the Mysthelm contingency.
Less than three weeks for me to learn how to be a Shadow Wielder competent enough to spy on and infiltrate a sadistic Shifter’s stronghold.
Less than three weeks for me to find my family.
No pressure.
More than anything, I yearned to learn about where I came from and this magic that had been dormant inside me for over twenty years.
But I was also curious about what Scarven had up his sleeve.
If my magic could help, then I’d happily use it.
I wanted to finally be seen as more than the mistakes of my past. I wanted redemption. A chance at a new life.
And I was terrified. Of the weight I now bore, the possibility of failure, the inevitability of disappointment.
My fingers ran along the handle of my dagger on the outside of my leggings.
I was comforted by its weight back at my side while my mind ran through everything that had happened.
I couldn’t help but wonder what awaited me when we arrived in Tenebra in three days.
The place I was born. The place my family may still be living.
What would they be like? What would they think of me? I often thought about how I would find them, but hadn’t let myself think much on what I would do if I ever did.
I didn’t imagine a particularly warm reunion with my family. I wanted answers. I wanted to know why they’d abandoned me in Mysthelm as an infant. Was it even their choice? Or was there something larger at play?
I leaned back in the carriage I shared with Everett and Arowyn, the latter of whom had dozed off next to me.
Everett occupied the space across from us, his long legs stretched out as much as the cramped carriage would allow.
Adjusting my glasses, I looked out the window to the west, where the orange sun began its descent beneath the mountain peaks.
The carriage slowly rolled to a stop, causing Arowyn to jerk awake. Nox tapped on the window before opening the door.
“We’re at the Mistwood Mountains.” He nodded toward the enormous mountain range separating Drakorum and Tenebra. He’d taken up the habit of going ahead of us each day to make sure the path was clear, then meeting back up with us at night.
“We’ll stop to make camp in about an hour.
” His ear-length dark blond waves were tousled from the wind, making him look more roguish.
His tan cheeks held a twinge of pink, and his eyes glowed from being outside.
He didn’t wait for a response before shutting the door, and a moment later, the driver started up again.
A strained silence spread over the carriage, so naturally, I decided to break it headfirst.
“So, how come you can’t just whisk us to Tenebra with your magic?” I asked Arowyn. We’d had a few exchanges over the past couple of days, and I’d grown more comfortable around her. She didn’t seem as wary of me as the others did.
Everett glanced up as I spoke, then went back to his book. I didn’t think he particularly wanted me here. He had mostly ignored me, splitting his time between staring out the window or thumbing through one of his books.
“Too much magic,” Arowyn said with a shrug. “Striding four people over this great a distance wouldn’t make any sense. It would take me weeks to recover.”
“But you could, if you wanted to?” I pressed.
She gave me a smirk beneath hooded, pale blue eyes heavy with dark kohl. “Sure.”
A woman of many words.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Everett said in his husky voice without looking up from the pages. “I’ve seen you rescue half a dozen refugees in one go and walk away like it was nothing.”
“Yeah, well, that was a much shorter distance.”
Everett grunted, then gazed off into the sunset, running his thumb along his lip. Dark scruff had grown on his face in the days we’d been traveling. It made him look older than he was—his early twenties, if I had to guess. Probably around my age.
“Everett, how long have you been working with Nox?” I asked.
“About three years,” he said gruffly.
“He was a rescue from one of their earlier missions. Before I got here,” Arowyn added. When Everett shot her a stern look, she shrugged. “What? We’re all working together. It’s not like she can’t know.”
My eyes widened. “You were one of Scarven’s prisoners?”
Everett adjusted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Yes. My parents died when I was a teenager. His men found me on the streets of Iluze and brought me back to his manor.”
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed out. “How long were you there?”
There was a beat, and his hands tightened around the book. “Seven years, I think.” He licked his lips, suddenly looking younger. Hesitant. As if those memories turned him into that fearful teenager again. “Time is…different there. I lost track of the years, until Nox pulled me out.”
I knew better than to ask what kinds of torture he endured. That was none of my business. But the pain in his eyes told me enough. Something lurked behind the dual-toned green and gray, something that spoke of darkness.
The more I learned, the more people I met whom Scarven had hurt, the more I wanted to stop him. What people like Everett had gone through…it was becoming real to me. It made my stomach clench, an icy awareness tightening around my throat.
This was about so much more than just me finding my family.
Not wanting to dwell on Everett’s discomfort for too long, I turned to Arowyn. “What about you? How did you meet Nox?”
“It was about a year ago. Both of us competed in the Decemvirate at the capital, and he and I became allies. Friends, I guess.” She looked out the window at that last word, and something about her answer felt unfinished. Like there was more to the story.
“The Decemvirate? Isn’t that a tournament your people have every year?” I remembered reading the word in one of the history books.
“Every ten years,” she said. “But not anymore, if Empress Aris has anything to do with it.” I squirmed at the mention of Clarissa.
“When the Fates gave us our magic three-hundred-and-whatever years ago, there was a catch: it fades over time. There’s this ritual the emperor can do to replenish it, and someone decided long ago to turn it into a competition.
” Arowyn rolled her eyes. “So, every ten years, each province had to submit their strongest challenger to compete in a bunch of trials. The winner’s province received the most magic, all the way down to the person in last place, who barely got any.
And then we did it all over ten years later. ”
I blinked. “That sounds…”
“Gratuitous,” Everett offered.
Arowyn nodded. “It’s ridiculous, I know.
But that’s how I met Nox. He was Drakorum’s challenger, and I was Celestria’s.
We were friends until…” She broke off and sighed, emotion flickering across her features.
“Look, it was every person for themself. Those games aren’t the kind you should make allies in.
Not when there’s only one winner. I cut ties before I did something I’d regret. ”
Perhaps Arowyn and I were more similar than I thought. “So how did you reconnect?”
“Nox came to see me in Celestria a few months after the tournament. Said he had a place for me, if I ever wanted to put some of my aggression to use.” She snorted.
“Told me about Scarven’s operation and how he’d started a group of rebels set on rescuing as many people as they could, and eventually wipe Scarven out completely.
They didn’t have a Strider yet, and he thought I’d come in handy. Nox can be very convincing.”
I shifted in my seat, remembering the carefree, charming yet commanding man I’d seen glimpses of in Mysthelm and with his Order. So very different from his wrath.
“I know what you did. To Clarissa,” Arowyn suddenly said. There was no judgment in her voice, simply a statement of fact. “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.”
She shrugged. “Wasn’t supposed to. But I know why you did it. You were trying to make the most of a bad situation. I think everyone knows you did what you could to try and keep her alive, in your own way.”
I let out a small scoff. “Then why does he still hate me?”
Arowyn gave me a curious look. “It’s because you’re like us.
You’re clever and resourceful and obviously not scared to get your hands dirty.
You barely know anything about our cause, and you’re already diving in headfirst. Sure, you’re getting something out of it, but I have a feeling it’s more than that.
” She crossed her arms over her full chest. “But you’re unpredictable.
I think he knows how great you could be, and the fact that he can’t trust you scares him. ”
“Do you?” I tilted my head. “Trust me?”
“I don’t really trust anyone,” she said, a smirk in her eyes. “But I like you. So that’s good enough for me.”
My gaze trailed over to Everett. I knew he’d been listening, and my question wasn’t only for her. If I was supposed to work with these people, I wanted to know where I stood. “And you, Everett?”
His eyes searched me, guarded and stoic, but with a hint of something more. Resolution, maybe. Determination.
“If you’re our best hope for finding out how to take Scarven down, then I don’t really have a choice but to trust you,” he said slowly. “I made a promise to someone there. Someone I said I was coming back for. And I don’t intend to break that promise.”
A chill swept down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold air. The carriage came to a stop, and despite the heaviness in Everett’s words, they lit a fire inside of me. For once, it felt like we were getting on the same page. Understanding each other. Learning to trust.
Perhaps I really could get everything I wanted. My answers and my redemption.