38. Tobias #2
Already in awe of her, he admired her more, the longer they spoke.
Her actions were so dynamic, so bold. She took up the space around her with such confidence, as if she was afraid of nothing.
Like sunlight itself, she seemed indomitable.
“What?” he asked. “Tell?” Tobias’s lips thinned in frustration at his childlike language skills. If only she spoke Rhydonian.
“There are a hundred things I’d like to tell him. I am afraid none would do any good. Most might jeopardize your safety, now that I think about it. After all, you’re like my cousin. He’s a soldier too, and he has his own duties that I must not interfere with.”
If her cousin was a soldier, would Tobias one day be forced to draw arms against him?
“Yet, I often end up interfering more than I should.” She smiled a bit more ruefully. “I am reckless and dreadfully bold at times.”
Tobias shook his head, wishing he could tell her there was nothing dreadful about her at all. “Strong,” he whispered. “You are strong and true.” Two words he’d learned, a basic verb construction. Pointless, petty words that did not do justice to her actions.
She beamed at him as if he’d written her a sonnet. “Thank you. I’ll find another way.” She took his hand in her own and squeezed it tight. “Thank you. Travel well. May we meet again under better stars and a kinder moon.”
Only halfway back to the cabin, Tobias spotted Javen, or rather the light of Javen’s cigarette and the fire of his blue eyes. They were burning again like they had that night. “You were successful?” Javen asked.
Tobias nodded, his own head still spinning. He couldn’t tell Javen about the woman, but he knew he needed to relay what he’d overheard. “Yes. It was as you said. By the cliffs. A man—fae? Male?” he tried out each word.
“Say man if you must. It matters not to me.”
“—Named Daeden came to meet two fae, both in black tunics.” At that sentence, Javen rolled his eyes, as if there was nothing interesting at all about what Tobias had to report.
Why was it so damned hard to impress the captain?
Still, he continued, though he found himself stumbling over the next part.
“There was a woman and a man? But sir, may I ask what the fae word for—”
“There are over a dozen words for gender in the language,” he replied, cutting him off. “Your clumsy translation is serviceable. Now, continue.”
“The man had dark hair and was quite tall. He—”
“How tall? Who was with him?” Javen’s voice took on an edge. As if answering to his sudden flare of anger, that fire ignited once more, racing from his fingertips up his arms.
“Uh, a woman. She had blue hair.” Tobias stammered out a response, more certain than ever he shouldn’t mention the other fae woman he’d spoken to. The way Javen had reacted was enough to make him cautious, if not completely regretful of undertaking the assignment. The man was on fire , after all.
The flames faded with a curl of Javen’s fingers. “Cassam, then, with Rosala. No one of any concern.” He knew them by name. Tobias shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet, he still was.
The magic, the spells, the information parceled out in the smallest pieces.
Every bit, every hour spent with him, made Tobias feel more and more certain he was in over his head.
Still, he ignored that siren call of the business card in his pocket, refused to consider contacting whoever it was in the Capital who wanted more information on Javen.
After all, strange as he was, he was Tobais’s commanding officer.
He owed him his loyalty until proven otherwise.
Tobias asked, “Was there someone else you were expecting?”
He exhaled a thin stream of smoke through teeth that Tobias could have sworn looked far too sharp. “There is one Oathborn I could not easily best.”
The arrogance astounded Tobias. One Oathborn had killed over a dozen Crimsons, and here was Javen, acting like he could take down multiple fae at once. “Oh, only one? Then where the hells were you when Erik and the others were slaughtered? ”
A momentary emotion flickered on Javen’s face. “I told you to remain at camp.”
“And they insisted we scout for the others.”
Javen flung his cigarette to the ground. It lay smoldering in the fog-dampened grass. “They wanted to be heroes, so they died like fools !”
Never before had Tobias heard Javen shout with such fury. His hand hadn’t moved from the hilt of the blade.
Still, Tobias thought of the blonde fae’s desperate plea, her insistence that she wanted peace.
Not only that, but her trust in Tobias, someone she’d barely met.
He couldn’t give up. “Sir,” Tobias began.
“This mission seems to be changing. First, we went in search of Miss Ankmetta, then, you heard news of… of Blood Ember,” he did his best to say the monster’s name without a quaver, “but now… what is it you and Lord Lockwood are planning?”
“You’re intelligent, aren’t you?” Javen asked, almost goading him. Sometimes his questions resembled the feints of a boxer, trying to draw out a reckless attack from an opponent. “What do you think is the plan?”
Tobias pulled his shoulders back, trying to remain unaffected by Javen’s words.
It was never easy to do so, not when part of him so deeply wanted to be respected by the captain.
That need warred with the reason Tobias had joined the military, that deep longing for peace.
“Based on what I heard, it seems like Lord Lockwood is looking to strike back against the fae.”
He didn’t say to break the Accords. Nor did he include Javen in the plan, because he still desperately wanted to believe Javen wouldn’t.
That thought drove him to add, “Captain, if you know the fae so well, then surely… they can’t all be bad, right?
I know the Oathborn are dangerous, but there must be innocents among the fae, just like there are innocent humans. ”
Javen withdrew another cigarette and lit it. He closed his eyes, but still looked furious, not contemplative. “Is anyone innocent, in the end?” he mused. “She… she would have agreed with you. But she is gone and her hopes with her. ”
She. The way Javen said the word carried such grief that Tobias knew, instinctively, who he must be referring to. “Your wife?” Tobias asked. “Was she a fae?”
Javen’s eyes opened, and he flicked a half-lidded glare at Tobias. “Does it matter what she was, when she is dead and the one who killed her still lives?”
A lump stuck in Tobias’s throat. “Blood Ember.” It made sense now, why Javen would drop any other mission in pursuit of that terror. “You want revenge against it, and so does Lockwood.”
Javen rewarded him with a small nod. “As for your other questions, I recommend not bothering yourself with such thoughts. They will do you no good.”
Finality rang like a bell in his words. The conversation, and Tobias’s attempt at delivering the fae’s message, was over.
Tobias mustered a salute. He was exhausted, confused, and disappointed in the captain, but still, he was trained to be a good soldier, and so he would be. “I have completed the mission as requested, sir. Permission to retire for the night?”
“Granted.”
As Tobias wheeled his bike away, he was distinctly aware of Javen staring out at something beyond the horizon. Something Tobias couldn’t see, nor did he think any mortal could.