Chapter Eighty Nox
“Come on, Mysterious One , put your next card down already.” The command comes from the disheveled man across from me, his glassy gaze fixated on the cards I hold. The nickname had come when I refused to remove my hood, the “s’s” slurring on his drunken tongue as spectators chuckle.
After spending most of the night scouting the main part of the tavern with no luck, I migrated to a smaller room where buy-in card games were taking place.
I had moved from table to table, listening for that voice only to be disappointed.
Eyeing my cards, I pluck out two that will give me the highest value match to those on the table and lay them down.
The man across from me curses at my victory as he tosses his cards down, but the victory is worthless, as my time here hasn’t yielded the one thing I hoped for.
Scooping up my winnings, I grit my teeth at the pain shooting down my back as I stand from my chair.
Waiting for it to subside, I float my gaze around the room.
What would Rhea think of a tavern like this?
I am sure she has never seen anything like it, and I can practically picture the way she would blush, how her eyes would devour every interaction with piqued interest.
Gods, I fucking miss her.
Though pain still throbs with each breath I take, the failure of the evening propels me forward as I weave past tables and the men gathered around them.
I’m halfway to the door when someone steps abruptly in front of me, his shoulder smacking into my chest and causing me to stumble.
He turns, hand bracing my arm while his own feet falter.
“Sorry, friend. Got a little excited about my winning hand.”
The sounds of the tavern come to a halt, a chill rolling up my spine.
My knees lock, every muscle trembling as recognition barrels through me.
Knowing my hood will cloak the top half of my face in shadows, I lift my gaze from to his face, where bloodshot gray eyes are framed by strands of black hair.
His lips tip in a smirk, even as one brow lifts.
“Oh, come on, man. It was an accident. Surely not worth holding a grudge over.” He gives me a playful shake before releasing me, prepared to step back to his game.
Does he really not recognize me? I had replayed this moment over and over again, sure that when I finally came face to face with the man who had taunted me with Rhea’s diary, who had kept me from getting to her, he would at least remember me.
That he would look into my eyes and know that his reckoning had come.
Shooting my hand out, I squeeze onto his arm, halting him from moving any farther. Scraps of magic stir as fragments of a memory taunt me.
The forest is drenched in rain, wet leaves sticking to my boots. Pain flares at the back of my head, and everything goes black.
His eyes flare wide as he attempts to tug out of my hold.
A hard surface digging into my back, the sound of whistling piercing the air. Dark gray eyes.
“You should probably let go before we have a problem.”
I can’t move. Foreign hands grip the ropes of my stretcher. “Time to go back home.”
Each breath I take is measured, my anger rising and baiting me to act on it.
My freehand reaches back for one of the blades strapped to my belt but before my fingers can squeeze around the hilt, the man pulls out of my hold.
It breaks the spell of my fury, allowing me to see through my anger.
I will get the information I need from him. But not here. Not yet.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he shouts, drawing curious gazes in our direction.
“There’s no problem,” I murmur, my fingers curling in towards my palms. “Have a good night.”
He huffs a breath but returns to his table, our interaction all but forgotten in favor of more ale and a new round of cards. Keeping my head down, I hail the same barmaid as earlier.
Her hip juts out as she looks me over. “Yes?”
I hold the pouch containing my winnings out for her to see, gesturing with my head back to the table where the guard is sitting. “That man with the dark hair, do you know what his name is?”
She narrows her eyes in either curiosity or amusement—it’s hard to tell with the way her whole face scrunches with the movement—before she looks over my shoulder.
My hand holding the pouch shakes, making the coins within jingle.
She swipes it quickly, weighing its contents before a small grin lifts her lips.
“That’s Stephan. He’s here almost every week.
Sometimes, he disappears for a bit but always shows back up. ”
“I appreciate your discretion,” I tell her, ignoring her wink as I brush past her towards the exit.
Cool night air shocks some awareness into me, every instinct roaring to turn back around, to snatch the guard from where he is sitting and enact the vengeance that has been slowly burning me from within.
Stephan. The name doesn’t ring any bells, and without Daje or Cass here, I’ll have to be creative with narrowing down which section of the guard he is in without giving myself away.
Darting quickly into a thick gathering of trees, I drop my hood, running a hand through my hair and wiping the sweat gathered on my brow off on my forearm.
Squatting between two trees, I reach into my pocket and grab the small vile of pink liquid Galen had given me for my pain.
Uncorking it, I down it in one gulp before leaning against a trunk as I settle in and wait for Stephan to exit the tavern, a plan slowly forming in my head.
Dawn has nearly broken by the time Stephan hobbles from the tavern.
I keep my steps light as I follow after him, hiding behind trees while he walks a path through the forest. The tincture has all but worn off, and without sleeping at all, I worry I’m not being as quiet as I need to be.
But if Stephan suspects someone is following him, he doesn’t show it.
And with the way he wobbles, I doubt he’s aware of anything beyond getting home.
He follows a small trail into a cluster of houses tucked into banya trees, smoke already billowing from some as warm lights glow from within.
Stephan’s steps slow to a stop in front of a white and green home, his movements clumsy as he retrieves a key to unlock the door and goes inside.
I make note of which house is his before I turn and begin my journey back.
Vengeance has never been a powerful motivator for me before, but now it sings at the possibility of finally getting some retribution.
I’ll make him tell me everything he knows, and when I’m done, when I’ve wrung him of all his secrets, I’ll show him just how little magic or strength have to do with being powerful. With being terrifying.
King Dolian couldn’t have known that, when he took the one person I love most in this world, he effectively pushed me past the imaginary line of morality I had used to keep myself in check.
Whatever I do, whatever I become, will be the direct consequence of that, and when the day that I can kill him as slowly and methodically as he deserves finally arrives, there will be no sweeter vengeance.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Bahira’s tone is jarring, and it temporarily knocks me from the hazy, pain-induced stupor I’m in when I enter my sitting room. “And what are you wearing?”
“Good morning to you too,” I counter, lowering the hood of my cloak. My hair tickles the tops of my eyebrows, the longest I’ve had it in a while. I brush a hand through it, tugging the strands back while exhaustion stings my eyes.
“Nox—”
“I’m surprised to see you here and not at your workshop.”
“And I’m surprised to see you waltzing in as the sun is rising.” She sniffs the air as I pass, her nose crinkling. “Smelling like alcohol. Where were you?”
Misplaced frustration boils to the surface, and I avoid my sister’s gaze as I answer, “Nowhere.” She plants a hand on my bedroom door, blocking me from entering. My gaze is harsh when I turn it towards her, drawing a frown to her lips. “Bahira, move.”
“Tell me where you were, where you’ve been going, Nox. I know you aren’t sleeping all night in your room.”
“Your observational skills are truly unmatched. Well done. Now move.”
Her jaw clenches as she tilts her head to the side. “That was rude.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself with me—”
“Oh, spare me this conversation, Nox,” she snaps, leaning into my space. “Ever since I’ve been home, you’ve made it impossible for me to do anything but concern myself with you.”
The tension in the air draws tight, and I despise it.
Bahira and I have always been close, her sound advice and steady presence one that I’m grateful for.
But for what I’m planning—for what I need to do—I can’t have her sucked into it.
Just because I am willing to become a monster doesn’t mean she’s deserving of the same fate by association.
“You are about to be the king, so the self-sacrificing attitude has to stop.”
“I'm not a puzzle for you to solve, Bahira.” Her eyes narrow but not before I see a flash of hurt. My throat constricts, the throbbing between my temples intensifying despite the latest dose of medicine. “I’m not here to make your life easier. I’m going to do whatever I need to get Rhea back.
Like I told you from the moment I woke up, there is nothing and no one who can stop that from happening.
” I reach for the door handle and then swing it open, watching as her chest heaves with a frustrated breath.
“Call me selfish. Self-sacrificing. Anything and everything in between. I don’t give a shit. But do not stand in my way.”
She steps back and lets her arm fall to her side, her chin lifting in a way that shrivels me. “You can attempt to push me away, but I know who you are, Nox.”
Turning away from her, I pause beneath the doorframe, my hands on the edges to hold me up.
“No. You know who I was.” Then I step into the room and shut the door behind me, leaning against it as my heart races.
I wait until I hear her walk away before I take a seat on the bed, picking up one of the dragon stones from the bedside table that Rhea imbued with her magic when she was practicing.
The stone is warm, the faint gray glow at the center making me wish I could sense the magic that is emanating from it—if only just to feel her again. I clutch it to my chest and lay down, my gaze on the ceiling above me. Hang on, I whisper in my mind. I promise, I’m coming.