Chapter 32 Nox
Nox
The nightmares came back that night.
This time, I was running through the forest with Sage the night we escaped. We were almost to the mountains separating Drakorum and Tenebra, where we could seek safety among the Shadow Wielders. But the moment we started up the mountain, Sage was killed.
The scene played on a loop in my dream—the same thing, every time. Except for the way she died. That was always different. In one dream, she was shot through the heart with an arrow. In another, a sword cut her head clean off. Still another, a pack of wild dogs ripped her limbs from her body.
In each of them, I was forced to watch. My muscles locked, unable to do anything as she was violently murdered for my indiscretion. I felt the searing pain as if it were my own. My throat was raw, my head pounding, my mind weak with anguish as I stood there. Over and over. Helpless.
A couple of times, I thought her dark hair blurred into bright red, but it was gone when I blinked.
The scene started up again. Sage and I sprinted over fallen tree limbs, freedom within sight as we approached the base of the mountain. She ran ahead of me, and I reached out an arm to stop her. A dagger whizzed past my hand and embedded itself in the back of her skull.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“No!” I roared, my claws bursting from my skin.
Tap. Tap. Tap. “Nox,” a voice whispered.
My breath faltered. “Sage?” I called out to her lifeless form, slumped on the ground with blood and bone sticking out from her wound. This…this hadn’t happened before. She never spoke to me in this dream.
“Nox, please. It’s Devora.” The muffled voice cut through the nightmare like cold water.
My eyes snapped open.
I was in my bedroom at the Keep. The sheets were shredded beneath my claws, blood dripping from my quickly-healing wounds as I bolted upright in bed.
Heart racing, I took in gasping breaths to calm my senses.
“I can hear you, Nox. I want to help. Please,” Devora said from the other side of my door. She sounded small and worried, so unlike the fierce woman I’d come to know.
But she shouldn’t have been able to hear me. Long ago, I’d had Silas ward my private chambers so that no sound could escape. I said it was to protect against potential spies, but I always wondered if the wise Alchemist knew the truth.
I didn’t want anyone to hear me scream when the nightmares came.
But she heard me. Her shadow whispering was getting stronger, if it was able to penetrate Silas’s wards.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I couldn’t stop myself from throwing my legs over the side of the bed, then I slowly pulled myself up and staggered to the door. I propped my hand on the frame, my fingers gripping it hard enough to leave a dent in the wood.
“Nox?” she whispered again. So close, I could smell her just on the other side.
My forehead fell to the door as I squeezed my eyes shut. My dragon half reached forward, clawing at my chest, aching to break through the wood.
It would be so easy to give in. To open this door and fall to my knees, to let her hands cradle my head and drive the nightmares away. That was what terrified me most—that this woman could give me comfort of any kind. Because the last person who had brought me peace…
She was front and center in my nightmares. She was dead because of me. And I’d rather let myself rot alone than bring Devora that same fate.
I turned and slumped to the ground, clutching my head in my hands until her footsteps retreated and the darkness crept in once more.
“Noxy, look what I did!”
I turned toward the sweet voice as a little body barreled into me. I caught her with a laugh and lifted her in the air, black braids swinging against my face.
“What’d you do, Zeph?” I asked the girl.
She beamed and wiggled in my grasp, then pointed a hand to her back. Small white wings with black feathers on the end protruded from slits in her shirt.
“And it didn’t even hurt this time!” she exclaimed with her gap-toothed grin.
My heart clenched. “That’s amazing, Zeph. It’s only going to get easier, I promise.” I set her down on the floor of the library with the other six, seven, and eight-year-olds.
Kieran had devised a system to divide the refugees into age groups for afternoon activities.
It made it easier to keep an eye on all of them.
Everett had even formed a sort of classroom schedule.
As our numbers grew, so had the people willing to help get the refugees into a semi-normal routine.
It aided their recovery to have something as mundane as schoolwork or training or playtime to latch on to.
I tried to visit with them as much as I could.
It kept me focused on the ultimate goal.
Watching the children make crafts or wrestle in the training grounds, learning to laugh again after all the joy had been sucked from them down in Scarven’s dungeons…
it filled me. Made it all seem worth it.
All the heartache, the restless nights, the lost friends.
We were building something here. We were making a difference.
Zephrya nodded up at me and went back to her painting on the floor.
She was one of our most recent rescues. Scarven had done something to her magic to make her shift prematurely—she was only seven.
Usually, a Shifter’s magic didn’t emerge until much later.
She’d been in incredible pain every time her emotions were heightened and she couldn’t control the shift, sprouting her hawk’s wings or talons and breaking several bones in the process.
She was one in dozens of stories. Innocent people whose bodies were violated and mutilated, their magic made to be a source of strife instead of the beautiful gift it was meant to be. I wanted to bring that beauty back. To make them feel at home in their own skin.
“Asher, how’s your striding?” I called out to the nearby teenage boy who was overseeing a group of ten-year-olds.
He looked up, his mop of rust hair flopping over his face as he winked at me, then disappeared.
“You tell me, Boss,” he said from right behind me.
I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Looking good, kid. But I hear you’ve been causing some trouble in the girls' wing?” I raised an eyebrow.
Pink blossomed on his cheeks. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend across the room. “Seriously, Micah?” he yelled.
“Hey, don’t blame him. Just remember the rules, yes?” I let go of his shoulder. “Keep the striding to public spaces. We don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
He gave me a quick nod. “Yes, sir.”
I took a moment to look around the large library, watching little hints of life twirl through the air.
Beams of light and shadow twisted across the floor and up the walls.
Giggles rang out from the younger groups.
The scent of various herbs filtered in the space as Alchemists practiced their spells.
Everywhere you looked were tufts of fur from Shifters still getting a handle on their magic, dried leaves from the greenhouse, broken pencils and small puddles of paint.
A sense of home swirled in my chest, pricking the backs of my eyes. It was rare that I felt moments like this, but sometimes…sometimes hope would leak through and cloud out the rest of the bad.
My gaze drifted over to the door, where Tessa leaned against the frame. She jerked her chin at me. “Time to go,” she mouthed.
I nodded, then saw Devora move behind her. Her eyes roamed over the space, a look of wonder on her features. The corner of her mouth tilted up slightly as she watched Zephrya’s group painting on the floor. I saw a flicker of that same emotion she had back at the Noctus Vigil.
I crossed to the two of them. “Ready?” I asked, and they both followed me out the door and down two floors until we reached the workshop.
The others were already there. Arowyn lounged on the couch next to the entrance, Everett and Kieran cleaned the weapons near the target practice area, and Silas and Milo were in the back with their Alchemist Grimoires perched on a work table.
“Well, I heard last night was a raging success,” Arowyn said as Devora, Tessa, and I entered. “Someone very wise must’ve convinced you to let Devora help.”
“I’ll be sure to thank them when I see them, darling,” I purred back to her.
“She was amazing,” Everett admitted, returning several daggers to their cases.
Beside me, Devora blushed. “Tonight will be the true test, though.”
“What is tonight?” Kieran asked.
Devora licked her lips. “Scarven invited me to a gathering. Something more intimate, he said. He requested I come.”
Arowyn snorted, and I shot her a look. “What?” She shrugged. “We all know what that means. There’s going to be a lot of food, a lot of women, and a lot of men whipping their—”
“Children, Arowyn,” Silas chided, jerking his chin toward Milo.
“For Fates’ sake,” Milo muttered.
Arowyn smirked. “I was going to say ‘dice.’ You know. Gambling.”
I curved my fingers around the edge of my desk, and the wood groaned beneath my hold.
I knew what kind of party this was. What kind of gatherings Kane Scarven liked to host. And the idea of Devora being there, unprotected and vulnerable to Scarven’s whims, made my dragon half rise to the surface. If he hurt her, if he tried anything—
I gritted my teeth. There was nothing I could do. That was the whole point.
Kieran raised an eyebrow at Devora. “I’m impressed. Perhaps this will not be a lost cause after all.”
Devora chuckled. “Thanks, I think.”
“Hey, coming from Kieran, that’s about as high of a praise as you’ll get,” Tessa cut in.
“Alright, so what is the plan for this evening?” Kieran asked, rubbing his hands together.
I brandished an arm toward him, trying to act normal and not like a raging Shifter. “By all means. You’re the man with the plans, Kieran.”
My plan would be to lock Devora up in that tower where Scarven and his slimy paws could never reach her again. Or better yet, claw off every piece of his body that touched hers last night.
Which was why I left the planning to Kieran.
“We have to assume Scarven will have eyes on Devora at all times from now on,” Kieran was saying. “He has proven that those he considers his possession must be treated as such.”
Devora rolled her eyes at the word “possession,” but nodded anyway. “Which is why Silas warded this place to be untraceable, right, Silas?” she asked the older Alchemist.
He shoved his glasses up his nose. “Yes. If Scarven did, in fact, have spies tailing you last night, my spell will make them believe they followed you back to the inn the Mysthelm contingency is staying at.”
“So you need to leave from there tonight, Devora,” I said. “Preferably in one of the carriages Mysthelm is using. Or in one that looks like theirs,” I added, glancing at Everett.
He held his hands in the air. “I’m good, but I’m not that good. I can’t hold an illusion like that from this distance. I’d have to be closer.”
“That can be arranged,” Kieran said smoothly. “It would be beneficial to have someone with her, after all.”
“I can’t walk in with her,” Everett countered. “That would be too suspicious.”
“No, but you could already be there,” Tessa suddenly said, a wicked grin unfurling on her features. “At Scarven’s manor.”
Everett narrowed his eyes at her. “I really don’t like that look.”
“Oh, I love it,” Arowyn said. “Means things are about to get interesting.”
Tessa held a hand up to Everett. “Hear me out. Who would the guards let into this intimate gathering without batting an eye?”
“A woman,” Arowyn said.
“An attractive, scantily-clad woman,” Devora added.
“See where I’m going with this?” Tessa asked.
Everett’s lips thinned. “I’m leaving.”
“Oh, come on, Ev,” Tessa cooed. “It’s perfect. Just ride with Devora and illusion the carriage to look like Mysthelm’s, then sneak in as one of Scarven’s girls serving at the party.”
“Why can’t I just camouflage myself to blend into my surroundings?” he countered.
Tessa paused and twisted her lips. “Because this is more fun.”
“Because I may need someone who can cause a distraction if I have to get away,” Devora offered. “Nobody would suspect you.”
Everett looked at me. “A little help here?”
“It would be nice to have someone else on the inside,” I said with a shrug. “You’re the best option for keeping her safe.”
Arowyn stretched her legs on top of the table by the couch, crossing one ankle over the other. “Great. Operation Eve is a go.”
“I hate all of you,” Everett muttered.
“Is there a way for us to communicate with the rest of you while we’re inside the manor?” Devora asked.
“Ah, yes, actually,” Silas said as he dropped a stack of books on top of his work table.
“There is. I can, uh—enchant this parchment—” He trailed off, patting his hand along his jacket as if searching for something.
With a look of triumph, he pulled two pieces of paper from his inside pocket.
“Yes. I can enchant these parchments to deliver messages between each other. Anything you put on one will appear on the other. Difficult to keep inconspicuous, I’m afraid, but if you get in a bind, it’s the quickest way to let us know. ”
“This is great, Silas. Thank you,” Devora said as she crossed the room to retrieve her piece of parchment. She folded it several times until it fit in the palm of her hand, then deftly slipped it inside her cleavage.
I followed on her heel and snatched up the other parchment. “Kieran, you and I will stay a few miles outside the perimeter, just in case,” I said to my second. “Tessa, Arowyn, Silas—you’re in charge of the Keep.”
“We’ve got it, Nox,” Tessa said with a firm nod.
They launched into details for the evening. We were well acquainted with sudden changes in plans, each of us able to adapt quickly and keep everyone safe. I trusted them without hesitation.
As I looked around the room, I realized that statement rang true with no condition. Before, it was “I trusted them, except for Devora.”
Now, I thought I could trust her. Despite my pride telling me not to.
She had jumped into this assignment with no questions asked, even after getting the answers about her past she so desperately sought.
She had saved my people in the blink of an eye.
She had put her identity, her comfort, her safety on the line in order to get information the rest of us couldn’t retrieve.
She knew the worst was yet to come, and still, she hadn’t complained. Not a single time.
I told myself it was only a sense of loyalty and protection that made my chest tighten when she stepped into danger. But loyalty didn’t make my pulse quicken at her nearness. It didn’t make me dream about her voice in the heart of my nightmares.
And loyalty hadn’t saved Sage.
If Scarven laid a hand on Devora…my trust wouldn’t matter at all.