Chapter 12 Eveera #2
I toss the sharpened letter opener up in the air, catching it right side up, and collapse onto the floor in a heap to begin vigorously sawing away.
My focus was so locked in on my mission to break these off that I didn’t even hear the two fools I’d been saddled with stumble into the room, not until Devlen’s shrill shriek hit my ears.
“What are you doing?!”
I hum in confusion and watch as he drops down in front of me, harshly yanking my hand towards him to wrench the letter opener away.
My eyes blink furiously, trying to clear the haze that settled over me while working on the shackle.
I look down at Devlen, and I’s hands joined, the skin of my wrist bloodied and shredded.
The tool’s been chucked off to the side, and he’s staring at me, his blue eyes wide with horror.
I tug my wrist back, my argument already at the tip of my tongue. “I wanted them off,” I explain casually.
“And turning your wrist into ground meat was what? Painless for you?!”
Yes, actually. It wasn’t painful at all, until you made me aware of it. I almost say, but I’m not here to break bread and share sob stories. I’m here so that they can get me out of this fucking city.
A pulse throbs in the back of my skull, and I can feel myself swaying from the blood loss. Tilting my chin, I pick up the edge of the sheet and bite down, tearing a piece off with my uninjured hand. I keep my bite hard, using that to stabilize me while I wrap the injured joint.
“Why do you want them off so badly?” Devlen murmurs.
I pull taut on the makeshift bandage, tying it as best as I can. “Would you like to be without arms? Would that inconvenience you? To be without them?”
“Uhhh..”
“That’s how it feels to have my magic cut off – it’s like being without limbs.
Sure, you’d been fine eventually if you didn’t have them, but it certainly wouldn’t be convenient.
” His brows are furrowed, watching me fidget with the bandage, looking confused as to where I’m going with this.
“I don’t want to get to the point of 'eventually being fine’.
I want my ‘limbs’ back and the only way that’s going to happen is if I get these fucking shackles off. ”
He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, unsure of how to respond.
“Dev,” Caz calls, his voice firm, and Devlen gives me a meek look. He pushes back onto his heels, grabbing the letter opener before following his partner.
While the bleeding stopped after a few hours, the throbbing has kept me awake most of the night.
Caz demanded he take first watch over me, leaned up against the window, his white hair and translucent skin illuminated by the moonlight. Unable to rest, I prop myself up onto my hands and follow where he has his attention focused.
His face is turned fully towards the gap in the doors, the object of his thoughts fast asleep on the the otherside.
“Hey–” I snap my fingers, breaking his concentration and earning me an annoyed expression. “I understand you know.”
“What do you understand?”
I slide to the edge of the mattress and chuck my chin at the doors. “You worry about him.” Caz’s face goes slack, his features hardening as he turns to look out the window. “It’s exhausting worrying about other people.”
“I am not having this conversation with you. Lay down, go to bed, and tomorrow this fucking headache will all go away.”
A laugh slips past my chapped lips, “to be fair, I ran. I made an effort to avoid both of us being in this situation. But your man there –”
“Don’t talk about him like I am unaware of how he is. I am aware.” My hands lift in mock defense, and we exist there in the silence for a minute before I see his chest lift up and down.
“Devlen sees too much of the good in people.” He exhales. “And the people who see too much good are the ones –”
“Are the ones who usually end up dead.” I finish for him.
His red-tinged irises snap towards me, “strange woman.”
I shrug and scoot back against the pillows, giving him my back. My stomach twinges from the partially vulnerable conversation, evidently being a hostage has made me soft towards others. That will need to be rectified immediately.
Despite my efforts, sleep still didn’t come.
I didn’t find myself at the crossroads with Axel or Orem, and their lack of presence over the past few days has been noticeable. Ax would quip that that’s a good thing; no longer seeing them means I’m no longer hallucinating. I should be thrilled that I’m not going crazy.
But I’d rather the delusions over the still constant pounding in my head.
Caz stayed up all night as well, tucked away in the windowsill – brooding – and by morning we both looked like hell.
Devlen, on the other hand, looks well rested and very, very perky.
I wince while lacing up my boots, the motion irritating the wounds on my wrist. The smell of salt drifts into the room and mixes with the stale copper, a combination which is enough to churn my empty stomach.
Standing up, I move over to the window, a wave of dizziness washing over me. “Woah woah woah.” Devlen grunts, catching on to my shoulders, my hand reaching to grab the wall. The tips of my fingers graze the windowpane, and I feel Devlen’s hands tighten on me, backing us up from the open frame.
My right palm comes up, and I press it firmly to the center of my forehead. “Fuck.” My knees give, my body slouching forward until I’m bent at the waist. “Fuck. Fuck. FUUCCKK!”
“Alright, alright, just take it easy.” Devlen coos.
I jerk my head up to look at him. “Argh! You try functioning when it feels like your head is going to implode and splatter brains all at your feet.” I snap, pressing the heel of my hand even harder into the skin, hoping that the pressure will alleviate.
It doesn’t.
He rocks me back until I am sitting on my ass, both legs spilling out in front of me. I drop my hands to the floor and stare pitifully at the wall ahead of me. This is pathetic. The voice inside my head chides. You are pathetic, Eveera.
Bleeding hell, what have I become?
A glass of water appears in front of my face, held by a stark white hand.
I take it gingerly, my mouth suddenly feeling like cotton.
I can feel the weight of Caz’s glare as I lift the edge of the glass to my lips and take a sip.
From my peripheral vision, I catch Devlen’s hand dart out, grazing his partner’s hand.
I try to not make it obvious that I’m watching the exchange of soft looks by taking another more languid sip. The water slides down my throat easily, and I hang my head between my knees. It still hurts, but it feels less like it’s going to roll off my shoulders now, which I think is a good sign.
“You alright?”
“Fine,” I grunt, allowing Devlen to pull me up. Setting the glass down, I dust off my pantlegs and brush past him. “Just fine. Let’s go.”
He hesitates behind me, taking too long to follow. “Er…”
“I said I’m fine. Let’s. Go.”
I was, in fact, not fine.
The minute we stepped outside, my legs threatened to buckle a second time. I did my best to ignore Devlen’s raised brows that said, “yes, you look fine.”
The acrid scent of the sea only grew stronger once we were back out on the street, and I made a mental note of how grateful I am to smell char and smoke back home.
What I would give to smell char and smoke right now. To feel nothing but scales and air underneath me, no matter how snarky the company is, over the tiredness of my feet.
I feel Devlen’s gloved fingers take hold of my elbow again, hooking us together so that I don’t get lost. Apparently, we’ll be crossing the rest of the city today, in hopes of making it to the edge of the Sabel by nightfall.
I’ll exit the city with no one the wiser, and then I can worry about the more treacherous part.
Trekking across this bleeding kingdom until I can take refuge, hopefully with the clans in the Vast.
Through the crowd, I see Caz jogging back to us, a rust-colored cloak in his hands. “Here.” He says, shoving the garment into my hands.
“What’s this for?”
“You want to stay discreet, don’t you?” I nod and drape the item over my shoulders and lift the hood over my head. While I’m tying it together, he leans into Devlen, whispering something in his ear before taking the lead.
Sabel is an enigma. So far off from anything I’ve experienced, anything I’ve lived. If it’s not people we’re swerving around, it’s horse-free carriages. And if it’s not that, I’m amazed to look up and see the few airships.
The closer we creep back into the city, the taller the buildings rise, and the denser the air grows. I use the edge of my cloak to cover my mouth while we march through the streets, keeping myself from inhaling too much of the smog.
“How long have we been walking?”
Devlen leans in, “maybe an hour, an hour and a half.”
“That’s it?!”
He shrugs, “it’s not that the city is large so much as it’s the crowds. Shoving and carving a path through them is what takes so much time.”
“I can see that.”
We stick to the narrower alleyways, Caz avoiding as much crowdwork as he can for the next few hours that followed and only dragging us through the more popular areas when necessary.
Devlen reaches over, offering me a piece of bread while we move.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” I turn my head towards Devlen and hum in response.
“The ink on your skin…” I flinch at the mention of the serpents, my hand absentmindedly going to my sleeved arm where I know one of them lies completely and unnaturally still. “What’s the deal with those?”
The deal?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin with that question…
“Do they have any meaning or–”
“They have meaning,” I answer, cutting him off.
He turns, face filled with intrigue. “Really wha–”
“I didn’t say I’d share with you what it was.” I snap, throwing my hood back up as we are met with the end of our quiet street. A boisterous and claustrophobic mass lies at the mouth, and I jut out my elbow for him to take hold of.
With a wary look back at me, he takes my arm, and we step off the curb and back into the road.
This particular lane takes us longer than the others have so far. I can see the sun start dip below the tallest buildings, and while I haven’t the faintest clue where we are, it seems to be the busiest street at the busiest time of night.
“How.” UGH! “Do.” ARGH! “You people do this.” OOF! “Every day?!” I grunt, my chest fully pressed into Caz with Devlen squished up against my back.
“You don’t have to yell! I’m right here!” Caz snaps.
Devlen sets his chin on my shoulder to speak in my ear, both of his hands gripping either side of my biceps. “We don’t really leave our block that much. Let alone, end up in the Center.” The Center. Sounds important. “The Consulate is just a few blocks from here.” He finishes.
“Ah. So it’s a wealthy cesspool, is what I’m hearing.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
I see. “Would you two stop talking, something’s going on up there.” Caz hisses, his arm swinging back to box me in.
A few feet in front of us, the cadence of voices rises into angry clamor. With the disturbance gaining interest in the crowd, our standstill swiftly morphs into a small-scale stampede. The shouting is joined by a few high-pitched screams, and Caz looks over my head to Devlen, concerned.
“What do you think that is?” I shout, but they ignore me and tighten their human cage, our bodies being rocked back and forth as patrons knock into us.
More screams echo off the buildings, and I feel myself growing anxious to know what’s happening.
“Both of you let go,” I say, trying to duck out of their grasp.
“You’ll get trampled!” Devlen shrieks, but I bend my knees and slide down, slipping out from between them.
“Wait!” I hear him yell, but I don’t stop, ramming myself into the masses.
Elbowing through the people around me helps quicken my pace, but just as I’m about to reach where the sound is coming from, I feel my neck pull back.
Fighting against the grip, I angle my chin to find a disappointed Caz holding onto my hood. Stupid fucking cloak. I gripe.
“You’re going to get yourself killed–” Caz starts to shout before his mouth drops open, cutting off his own words. The shouts are louder now, and I turn around slowly to see where his attention has drifted. Due to Caz’s hand on the hood of my cloak, I stumble back into him, my neck craning to see.
My hand whips out, pushing the patron in front of me out of the way until I’m able to see that commotion has been caused by two men. Well, one man is holding the other up by his throat.
A CRACK! rings out, and the victim’s body goes limp. With a loud thunk, the assailant chucks it off to the side, where it lands at the knees of a wailing woman.
“Savage.” Caz hisses, his tone laced with disgust. The sound of his bones snapping stuns the street into a brief silence, save for a few gasps of horror. When I’m able to drag my stare away from the woman, crouched over the man’s body, I find myself locking eyes with the killer.
Eyes that belong to a face I’ve memorized completely, hazel eyes that bear a haunted gaze that mirrors my own, and they’re piercing right through me.
“Oh gods.”