Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ASTER
T hey always had excuses. Francis’s excuses, though, were the worst I’d heard in months.
“I-I didn’t know, sir,” he said, yelping as I reached for him. My ungloved hand moved a piece of hair from his sweaty forehead, smiling at his fear. “I wouldn’t have taken it if… if I knew! I promise you!”
“You didn’t know?” I said, taking a half step back. He relaxed a hair, head dangling forward with bloody drool dripping past his lips. “Just like you didn’t know it was unwise to lay your hands on a woman. Enlighten me. Who gave you the tip to go into Vespera in search of the mirror?”
Slowly, I circled him like a hawk to prey. He wept when I was behind him, and as I pressed the palm of my exposed hand against his shoulder oh so slightly, he jerked away and nearly fell from his seat.
“Easy now. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself, would you?” I smacked him on the shoulder, and he wailed. My laughter drowned it out, and eventually, I returned in front of him once more. “I said, enlighten me. I do not feel very cognitively stimulated. Are you really going to disappoint me twice, Francis?”
This time, as his face dragged up to capture mine, he bared his teeth and spat up at my face. It was a poor attempt, and when it landed on my boot, I merely flung the mucus off. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, or why the fuck you care so much about a fucking mirror, but I didn’t know it was yours. I swear it!”
I regarded the glimmering sheen of spit that remained on the tip of my boot, sniffling. I let the silence envelop us like a cold embrace. Slowly, his attention averted to my exposed hand. Darkness bled from the tips of my fingers into the open air, and within seconds, all four corners were overwhelmed by my magic. The blackened veins burned beneath my skin, and when I breathed, I could smell nothing more than the soot and lifeless, burned flesh that radiated out of the Starbitten energy.
My magic, a thing of death linked to the shadowy void of Vespera that slowly consumed my lands, was no more than evil death and chaos. If I did not find my cure, I would perish.
“Sir… you don’t understand, please, please . I-I d-don’t have what you’re looking f-for!”
When I finally hummed in acknowledgment of what he’d said, his fearful gaze widened like a doe caught by its hunter. “Come on, Francis.” I leaned down, allowing the magic to ebb off me like a wicked dance. Blood was bubbling past his bruised lips, and as he thrashed, the shadows started to wrap around his mouth like a gag. “I know you can do better than that.”
Something in me snapped—perhaps it was the control I’d so carelessly let go of—but the shadows engulfed us in storm. Spiraling ‘round and ‘round, winds whipped my face as the razor-blade tails sliced across his skin. He shrieked, but the cries of lost souls overpowered him.
Vespera was a terrible thing, and one day, I would ensure it was a myth only spoken of in schools. For now, it would continue to consume the souls brave—or stupid—enough to breach its shrouded gates. Unfortunately for Francis, he was not smart. He went in like a pirate in search of a lost bounty, and he did strike gold.
Only that gold belonged to me.
I would not let him take it from me—not when my cure was so uncertain and the artifacts that held power were so rare. So I kneeled amidst the chaos, cupped his face in my hand, and let the shadows veil his face.
He screamed, blood threading from his eyes like tears. My magic was still gagging him, but I could hear him clearly enough as he screamed, “The— fuck! The mirror was sold!”
“To whom?” I bellowed, leaning forward. As my frustration grew, so did the chaotic tempest that surrounded us. “Speak now. Your time is running short.”
“To some hag in Avendatis! It was on the last train out, you fucking prick?—”
Alright. I admit it; I lost my temper. I couldn’t help it—he was a liar, a rapist, and a thief. As the shadows pierced into his eyes like the beak of a crow, I cringed. Although I stepped away, the vultures of my Starbitten magic danced around his bleeding, broken body until it was nothing more than a mangled corpse. I wasn’t proud of myself, especially because he complied. But I still smiled.
I wiped the blood that dripped from my nose, blinking past the fog that slowly faded with the uncontrollable magic. I had no choice but to accept what I’d done. His body collapsed onto the floor, smoke lifting from his skin as if he’d been burned.
I put on my missing glove and averted my gaze. Heavy regret weighed down my chest, but I had no way to fix what I’d done, no means of preventing the darkness from lusting after blood like that. Not until I found my cure.
I turned toward the door, but every muscle in my body tensed as a shadow vanished from the light. Soft footsteps echoed beyond the entrance. As my eyes narrowed and my ears perked, I knew my hunt did not end with that hopeless corpse.
I stepped beyond the threshold and looked down the corridor, catching a glimpse of a robed figure leaping for the stairs. She made a lethal mistake though. She paused to glance at me, a familiar glare pointed in my direction. Wild strands of raven hair whipped in front of her face, her petite shoulders rising and falling with panicked breath.
This was no assassin hunting me down to spare the generations to come of another Sinclair king. She was just a girl, her wide eyes carving a path to me in anticipation. In this strange, curious, dangerous game—it was in the sparkle in her eye, the pause of her footwork.
But the second I saw her hesitation, I ran off in a chase, listening to the way her mortal heart raced and pounded beneath her chest. I was faster than her, and though the stairwell slowed me, she struggled with the ladder that led to the rooftop.
I stopped at the base, lifting my gaze to watch her struggle with the closed latch. She was panicked, cursing beneath her breath. I really shouldn’t play with my prey, but as I took off my gloves and let the shadows creep from my skin once more, warmth bubbled in my chest.
Thieves lost their hands, but spies lost their eyes.