Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
“ G ot himself banished to the colonies, is what I heard.”
Ronin didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation at the other end of the bar, but given that he and the two ancient, chatty Windriders were the only patrons in here, there was no avoiding it. Nor could he avoid the surreptitious gazes the two males kept sliding his way. Not like he wasn’t used to it.
“’Sa damn shame, if you ask me,” the other male murmured into his beer. “Never liked the look of that younger one. High Gods help us all when he takes the throne.”
The continent was still reeling from the scandal involving the Imperial heir, though very few details had been leaked about precisely why Prince Tristan Erabis had been stripped of his title and exiled a year ago. The most persistent rumor was that he’d fallen in love with a human woman.
Ronin didn’t know which part of that rumor was more unbelievable—that the young prince had fallen in love with a human in the first place, or that he’d been willing to forsake his birthright for her. No love, especially not of a mortal, could have ever persuaded Ronin to give up that kind of power and prestige.
Ronin thought the young prince must be a fucking idiot.
Though to be fair, Ronin was feeling like an idiot himself at the moment.
Scrawled upon that card Skanisse had handed him was an offer he’d craved for centuries.
The Emperor was willing to uncage his wolf.
And he’d fled the IA building like a coward, his heart in his throat and his wolf howling in protest. Had barreled into the first open bar he could find to drown himself in Delirium.
He’d already downed one bottle, and as he brought the second to his lips, his eyes darted out the filmy window to the little storefront across the street.
The truth was, as soon as Ronin had read that note, terror had sunk icy claws into him. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Emperor’s offer was too good to be true.
He’d had a third of a lifetime to resign himself to surviving without his wolf, had worked hard to kill that most dangerous of emotions: hope.
Could he really trust Leonin Erabis? The male had branded him a monster, ruined Ronin’s life and reputation in one fell swoop.
Plus, the offer had come with some rather unsavory stipulations: an assignment where he’d not only have to outwit a dangerous Deathstalker billionaire, but would also have to pose as someone’s fucking boyfriend. A role he’d successfully avoided all his life.
Nor did he have any particular desire to do it with the bitchy, uptight redhead who’d already cut him to shreds this morning.
But none of those were the real reason why Ronin had asked for time to think before he accepted.
That reason was staring at him from across the street: the tiny purple door nestled between a tea shop and an apothecary.
He’d never visited a chronomancer before, didn’t even really know if he believed in the purported abilities of the Fae females who claimed to have a gift for seeing both into the past and future. Most of them had been priestesses of the Fallen Goddess before the Empire had sacked her temples and forbidden her faith.
His twin sister Selene swore by their readings. Barely made a single decision more complicated than what she was having for breakfast without consulting the mystical females. And according to Selene, they’d yet to steer her wrong.
So, before Ronin made a choice that could drastically alter the course of his life, for good or bad, he thought it couldn’t hurt to get some spiritual advice beforehand.
“You want another, handsome?” The Beastrunner bartender propped her hands against the bar, leaning forward and pushing some very impressive cleavage into his face. Ronin’s eyes dipped to the sight as he knocked back the rest of his drink, and she licked her lips, shimmying her hips.
We could stay a bit longer , his wolf offered, calmed by the Delirium.
Not today , Ronin snapped back.
Prude.
Ronin paid for his drinks, leaving the pouting bartender a larger tip than necessary, then pushed out of the dim bar and squinted against the blinding noonday sun.
He crossed the street, the euphoric effects of the elixir tingling through his limbs, and approached the purple door. Before he could even raise his fist to knock, the door opened.
A calm, lovely female voice beckoned him across the threshold. “Welcome, Butcher. She’s been expecting you.”
She who ? The Fallen Goddess? More likely, this was the greeting the chronomancer used on all her victims. Er, clients.
Though he couldn’t yet explain how she’d known it was him. He glanced around the doorframe, searching for an opticorder, but didn’t see one. Didn’t mean there wasn’t one there, just that it wasn’t visible.
He pushed through a gauzy curtain and entered a circular room. Seated at the table was a Windrider female with mint-green wings, wearing a shimmery white robe and veil. Her palms bracketed a white obelisk carved with a symbol that Ronin recognized.
Teles, the symbol associated with the Fallen Goddess—a circle bisected by a vertical line.
A bold display this day and age. Though, the fact that the Empire didn’t even care enough to shut these establishments down told Ronin all he needed to know about the accuracy of whatever he was about to hear.
Still, he felt compelled to do this. Maybe it was the cumulative effect of Selene’s ramblings. Either way, he knew he couldn’t make a decision about the assignment without hearing what the chronomancer had to say.
“Please, have a seat,” she said. “And tell me what troubles you today?”
“If she’s been waiting for me, shouldn’t you know that already?” Ronin cocked a skeptical brow.
“She sees you have many troubles. Neither you nor I have the time for her to examine them all for you this day.”
His wolf chuckled. Savage.
Ronin sat back in his chair, crossed an arm over his chest and scratched at his biceps. “Don’t we need to discuss payment before we begin?”
The female angled her head and blinked her violet eyes. “She does not charge for her readings. Time belongs to us all. However, if you are pleased at the end of the session, you may feel inclined to offer a donation to her disciples.” She gestured toward a small cabinet laden with an overflowing bowl of drachas and other trinkets: jeweled necklaces, a golden platter, a silver pocketwatch, and several chunks of god-touched stones in red, purple, and deep blue. “So again I will ask, Ronin Matakos, what troubles you today?”
“I…” He didn’t even know where to start. How to phrase the question to ensure he’d receive a helpful answer. “I was offered a chance this morning to get something back that I lost a long time ago. Something I didn’t believe I would ever get back. I want to know if I should take the chance, if the situation will work out, in the end.”
Crinkles formed at the corner of her eyes, as if she were smiling beneath her veil. “A very worthy question. Different from the trivialities that most of your fellow citizens arrive here with. She will be pleased to have such a challenge.”
The female gripped the obelisk, one hand stacked above the other, and began to rub her hands up and down.
His wolf snickered.
Child, Ronin shushed him.
“Place your palms on the table and close your eyes,” the female commanded softly. “Repeat your question within your mind.”
Ronin did as he was told, the purple tablecloth catching on his calluses.
Will I really get my wolf back? he asked into his mind.
At first, he could hear nothing but the gentle sounds of the female breathing deeply through her nose, her hands swishing over the obelisk.
So he asked again. Will I get my wolf back?
The female’s hands stilled and her feathers rattled as a warm breeze churned through the small room, caressing over Ronin’s skin and stirring his hair.
The scent it bore was nothing that Ronin recognized. Something ancient and mossy and brimming with both life and rot. He shivered as a multi-faceted voice penetrated his mind.
You ask the wrong question, the voice said, sounding like thousands of voices strung together into a timeless melody. Ask again.
Will my wolf and I be reunited?
That is the same question. And you already know the answer. Your wolf never left you.
Ronin clenched his hands into fists. He was beginning to think that this was the second stupid decision he’d made today. Though he didn’t see how the voice could be a trick. He cracked an eye and glanced toward the female across the table, then nearly jumped out of his chair.
Her eyes had gone an opaque shade of white and even without the pupils, he could tell she was staring straight at him. It was fucking unnerving.
He closed his own eyes, trying to come up with a way to phrase the question that would get him the information he needed.
If I take the assignment that was offered to me this morning, will I be happy with the result?
Closer , the voice answered. Push deeper. Is happiness truly all you seek?
Ronin sought his wolf for back-up, but the creature was utterly silent for once. Bowed in reverence with his head resting on his paws, ears back, tail down. Supplicating to the presence before him.
What was Ronin seeking through this assignment? Happiness, yes, but there was something even more important than that.
To be whole again. To prove he wasn’t the monster everyone suspected he was. To do some good in this world, for a change.
If I take the assignment, will I find purpose in my life again?
The voice emitted a low hum that vibrated not only through Ronin, but through the room, rattling the Windrider’s feathers and jostling the table.
There is a worthy question. Yes, Ronin Matakos. You will. Though it will come at a cost you may not be willing to pay.
He bristled. What cost?
This I cannot tell you.
Ronin almost snarled. This was such bullshit. He didn’t know why he’d bothered.
Can you at least tell me if the Emperor’s offer is legitimate and made in good faith?
The room grew icy, the warm breeze replaced with a glacial blow that pelted Ronin’s cheeks.
The current Emperor has no faith , the voice spat. But the offer was legitimate.
So I should take the assignment then?
This I cannot tell you.
Ronin felt like he’d set himself up for that one. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with another question to ask, a question that would wash away his indecision and help him choose what to do.
You said if I take the assignment that I will find my purpose again. What is my purpose?
The voice took a long time to answer, what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes. Ronin had almost given up on hearing one when the voice spoke up softly.
You will be afforded the opportunity for many. Restoration. Destruction. Salvation. Abomination. Resurrection. In this moment, all paths remain open. But several are rapidly closing. You must make your choice.
Which paths are closing?
This I cannot tell you.
Ronin slammed a fist upon the table and the voice laughed. Fucking laughed .
What can you tell me?
You have a role yet to play in this world’s history. If you are brave enough to bear it.
And if I’m not?
It was as if all the air was sucked from the room. The breeze snuffed out abruptly and the temperature plummeted. Ronin cracked his eyes to see hoarfrost crawling up the female’s wings.
Then this world will be yet another failure in a long string of disappointing experiments. And we will be forced to start over again.
What in Ethyrios did that mean?
No fucking pressure, he answered.
You asked for a purpose. What greater purpose could there be than saving your world?
Does this world even deserve to be saved?
Silence blanketed his mind again, and when he looked across the table toward the chronomancer, her eyes were now closed and dancing behind her lids. Calculating.
That remains to be seen. Is there anything else you would like to ask us?
Ah, no. I think I’ve learned enough, thanks.
Be well, Ronin Matakos. We will see you again. In this world or the next.
The lights in the room flickered back to life and the temperature normalized.
Ronin blew out a long breath.
The Windrider opened her eyes, which had returned to normal, and regarded him with an inscrutable expression. “Are you satisfied with your reading?”
“Sure.” Ronin pushed up from the table, feeling even more foolish than when he’d walked in here.
The female bowed her head, her gaze darting to the small donation table. “We thank you for visiting us today.”
Ronin fished a few drachas from his pocket and tossed them into the bowl, then exited the shop and returned to the snow-covered, sun-drenched streets. He needed another Delirium after that weird fucking session.
She spoke the truth, his wolf piped up.
How do you know that? Ronin aimed for the bar.
You can drown us in Delirium, poison us both all you want, but she would not lie to me , his wolf whined.
I’ve had enough of the psycho-babble bullshit today , Ronin spat back. Spare me .
You only have three days or you will lose this chance.
Why do you fucking care?
Because , his wolf spoke in a low, reverent voice, s he showed me a vision of our future.
Ronin’s heart nearly stopped as his wolf whispered to him again.
And I was free.