9. Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Twilight found her propped against the bridge, staring into the trees with a fiercer expression than was her norm. Though, for once, it wasn’t directed at the wood itself, or even in remembrance of her parents. Tonight, Lux focused on the mayor.
Waves of grey crawled toward her, rolling from the impassable marshes and across Ghadra’s bleak walls to greet the forest beyond. The trees swallowed it greedily, but Lux barely registered the damp clinging to her.
Two hundred and twenty-seven. The mayor celebrated each and every birthday with a fanfare second only to the Festival of Light at high summer. Of course, only the wealthy were invited, those above Ghadra’s invisible line. And Lux herself, though she’d yet to attend.
Self-centered clod. He spent more on those parties than would be required to feed the poor of his city for months—and Lux had never truly cared what he did. Until now. Because it had been one thing to count on her attempts at his revival being rendered useless someday soon, an end to the mayor’s reign in sight, a decade or two out of reach. But now… Now Ghadra sank beneath a man seeking immortality, who clearly didn’t care how he achieved it.
“What have I done?”
The trees bent and sighed, lapping at her horror like parasites. Maybe she would have noticed it sooner had she not been so absorbed in her own misery. If she’d not purposefully dulled her senses, her emotions, her mind. Maybe—
Lux pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes and forced the guilt back. She couldn’t change the past version of herself. The version that had crawled within, folded about her insides, shutting out the world even as it clawed for air that was always just out of reach. And light... Light so unreachable, it may as well have been lost to the stars.
A little of that air finally seeped in now, and she relaxed her gritted teeth, breathing deeply. Her nostrils flared, her mind tricking her into believing she could smell jasmine on the wind. Her thoughts abandoned the mayor as it reached her.
Lucena. Lucenaaa.
The driver had scoffed at her question. Of course, the body had come from the Dark. If it hadn’t, his family would have sought Lux out, seeking her brilliance, dumping goldquins into her pasted-together crock.
What could cause such a terrifying symptom? Lux pinched the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t as if she knew all the diseases of the world. She dealt with death, not the sickness that led to it. Her breath lodged tight. No, she didn’t often have a care for sickness.
She shoved away from the slick stone beneath her fingertips.
But healers did.
Riselda’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly over her disheveled state. Lux knew her hair had to be a wild mass, but she didn’t bother to smooth it. Instead, she rocked on her heels.
“A body was taken to the forest today. His limbs oozed: some watery, dark substance bursting from black boils. Have you ever seen such a thing?”
Riselda studied her as she repositioned a stool beneath the new kitchen table. She scrunched her forehead in thought. “I cannot say I have. Was there anything else of note?”
Lux thought over how the foot had bounced along and pictured the pustules bursting. “Oh! The reaper. He said the home smelt of jasmine and…rotting flesh.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I would have to research. Jasmine, you say? How interesting.” Riselda tapped her chin a moment more before focusing on Lux with a satisfied smile. “How do you like our home?”
Lux frowned at the abrupt change, scanning the room briefly from the edge of her vision. Taken aback, she whirled toward the space.
Her favorite chair was gone. So was the plush rug, where she’d always buried her toes. The floor of her living room had become engulfed by a thinner brown rug, which now rested beneath a small bed pushed to one side. Two hard-backed rocking chairs pressed close to the fireplace—a matching set that looked hideously uncomfortable and impossible to curl up in. Lux wasn’t sure why her heart hurt suddenly. She rested her hands upon the table before her.
“I know it’s a big change, but it wasn’t as if there was another option.”
Lux glanced at her aunt, who, for all her smiles, appeared ready to move to the defensive. “I’m not upset, Riselda.” Am I? She couldn’t pinpoint what she felt. “I’ll move my things from the bedroom.”
She took two steps before her aunt stopped her with a cool hand on her forearm. “No. You keep the bedroom. I don’t require near as much sleep as you.” With a caressing hand, she cupped Lux’s chin.
Lux allowed her surprise to show, and Riselda laughed. “It’s as if you’re not used to anyone looking out for your needs.”
“How could I be?” She hated the weak pitch of her voice over the words.
“Oh, Lucena.” Riselda pulled her in, wrapping her arms tightly about her shoulders. “I will ensure you never feel that way again. Believe me.”
The fierceness in her aunt’s voice startled her. She believed Riselda completely. And yet, she couldn’t keep the tension from arcing across her shoulders even as she returned the soft embrace.