Chapter 17 Nox
Nox
Ipulled the reins to slow Tempest as I crested the final hill and the training grounds of Tenebra came into view. Five days later, and we’d made it.
The wheels of the carriage carrying Devora, Arowyn, and Everett weren’t far behind me. My legs and back screamed at me for subjecting them to so many days on the back of a horse, but it was far better than being cramped in that carriage with them. Her.
My blood boiled every time I was near her, and five days together was far too much time to spend controlling the impulse to silence that smart mouth of hers before it got her into trouble.
Trouble. That was exactly what she was. But evidently, she was the brand of trouble I needed.
The brand of trouble we needed. Not me.
I shook my head of the thought as Tempest and I reached the outskirts of the infamous training grounds, where Veridians of all backgrounds and magic types had traveled over the decades to practice magic and hone their skills.
Some of the most powerful people to have ever lived once roamed these grounds. I could feel the magic vibrating through the earth, making my Shifter half lift its snout in curiosity.
It was an enormous rectangular base nestled right in the valley between two mountains.
A stream ran from north to south, with small clusters of fir and evergreen trees dotting the landscape.
The training grounds themselves were in the very center of the base, a wide, open-air expanse surrounded by dozens of connected buildings that served as living quarters, kitchens, and storage.
The base was currently home to around fifty trainees and trainers.
And now, us. For eight days, at least.
Eight days. That was how long we had to train Devora into a Shadow Wielder worthy of meddling her way into Kane Scarven’s highest security fortress.
This was never going to work.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, then guided Tempest to the nearest stables. Our carriage came to a stop behind me just as two strangers approached. The tallest, a tan female in deep red fighting leathers with three daggers strapped to her waist, stretched out a hand.
“Aurel,” she said in a deep, resonant voice as she gripped my hand. “Aurel Vexley. And this is Elric.” She jerked her head to the shorter, broad-shouldered man at her side.
“Nox Duma. Thank you for letting us stay here,” I replied.
“We couldn’t very well turn away a friend of Larken Everest,” Elric said, wiping his forehead with a rag.
Larken Everest, a close friend of mine from my time in Veridia City last year during the Decemvirate tournament, was a powerful Shadow Wielder and now part of Clarissa’s council.
She was one of the first people I reached out to when I got back to the empire with a brand-new, inexperienced Shadow Wielder in my charge.
Everett, Devora, and Arowyn exited the carriage and stretched their legs.
My eyes snagged on my cloak still around Devora’s neck.
I forced my gaze away and tried not to breathe in the scent of her skin, like pomegranates and sunshine, mixing with my own that still clung to the cloak.
Something stirred in my chest, and I smothered it.
“We weren’t sure what time you would arrive, so Thecae stepped out. He should be back shortly,” Aurel was saying. “Our stable hand can help your driver if the rest of you want to grab your bags and follow me.”
Our group followed the two of them down a path leading to the base, then through an archway and into a long corridor.
The further we walked, the more rooms we saw branching off the main path—bunkers, dining rooms, kitchens, cupboards, armories.
The vast space appeared mostly empty, but every now and then, a couple of people would walk by and nod politely.
When we made the first left turn, a tall man materialized in front of us, seeming to have emerged from the shadows themselves. Devora let out a surprised squeal and nearly stumbled. I reached out an arm to steady her, my hand grazing her skin as I backed away.
She met my gaze with wide eyes and pointed at the man, who was now retreating the way we came, his attention focused on the book in his hands. “Did he just—”
“It’s called shadow melting,” Aurel said without looking back at us. “Some of us can use shadows to travel between dark spaces.”
I had to admit, that was incredible. “Can Thecae teach her how to do that?” I asked Aurel.
Aurel shrugged. “If she’s strong enough.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Devora bristle. I hid a smirk. I had a feeling if there was one thing someone could say to ensure this woman would succeed, it was that.
Aurel and Elric stopped in front of an entrance to an armory full of fighting leathers and various weapons hanging on the walls. “Thecae will meet you here.” Elric held an arm out.
The four of us stepped inside the gray stone room. Aurel and Elric dipped their heads before turning back down the hall.
“So, who is this Thecae person?” Devora asked as she took in the weapons.
“I’ve never met him, but he comes highly recommended by a friend. He’s a trained warrior and Shadow Wielder who’s helped others develop their powers,” I answered.
“Was he the one behind the Southern Bridge Rebellion a couple decades ago?” Everett asked.
When I nodded, he let out a low, impressed whistle. “He’s a legend. I grew up hearing stories about him. He once made a bridge of shadows over the Eldertide Ocean for his rebel group to cross from Tenebra to Veridia City.”
“And it almost killed him,” I added. “That much power can hurt even the strongest of us.”
Devora looked down at her hands. “Well, let’s hope he can work a miracle on me.”
“That’s entirely up to you, girl,” a gruff voice said at my back.
We all turned to find a tall, muscular man in his late forties walking through the door.
His dark hair was shaved close to his scalp, with matching scruff that held hints of gray along his chin.
Deep brown eyes took us in until they landed on Devora.
His lips parted, surprise lighting his features. “Ceres,” he said on an exhale.
Devora looked around in confusion. “Sorry, I—I’m Devora.”
Thecae shook his head and blinked several times. “Of course. Apologies. You just…you like so much like her.”
The blood drained from Devora’s face. “Who?”
Thecae swallowed. “Your mother.”