23. Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Riselda was smoothing back waves of hair in the mirror when Lux stepped through the door. Their eyes met through the glass before her aunt turned toward her.
“There you are, Lucena! You look frozen. Been wandering the marshes?” Riselda chuckled, swinging back to her reflection in a swish of burgundy skirts to fix a sparkling drop into her lobe.
Lux didn’t answer. Shucking her cloak instead, she skirted wide of her aunt, moving toward her bedroom. She felt a cool gaze at her back but shut it out with the click of her door.
Dirtied clothing was tossed to the floor, and Lux pulled a dress from her wardrobe. Black, with a rounded neckline, a beaded bodice to catch the dim light and a bow at the back. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn it, but if her aunt wanted to dine out dressed as she was, Lux figured she would at least make a little effort.
The small looking glass adhered to the ornate door offered her a well-enough view to wind her wild hair into a chignon at her nape, and with neck and ears free of adornment, she stepped out to greet Riselda.
“Ready?”
Lux studied her aunt and her expanse of creamy, pale skin that would surely protest exposure to the cold night air. Her face was smooth and perfect. Youthful.
And, for the first time, a new doubt crept in.
“Yes.”
Riselda swished toward her so fast, Lux couldn’t dodge. Fingers gripped her chin. “What marked your beautiful face, Lucena?” Releasing her, a fingertip wiped at the ointment Shaw had applied to the deeper wound. Riselda sniffed at it before licking it clean. “What is this amateur work?”
Endless secrets. Lux had them, too. “The Dark Market. I tripped and scraped my temple against one of the stalls. The crone gave me some paste.”
“You accepted treatment from that old decrepit? You’ll be lucky if you’re not poisoned! I thought you’d better sense, girl. You are to always come to me, do you understand?”
“Yes, Riselda.”
A carriage rumbled across the cobblestones at her words. Riselda extended a hand. “What timing. Come along, darling.” Lux stepped toward those outstretched fingers, watching them wind around her forearm. “We have much to discuss.”
Riselda may as well have had her fangs still in place as deep as Lux felt the words bite into her flesh.
The carriage ride sitting across from Riselda had reached an uncomfortable silence. Lux stared out into the evening’s fading light, aware of her aunt’s continued scrutiny. A death-cart shadowed her face, passing their sleek carriage within the narrow street. She sucked in a breath at the mound of bodies.
Riselda’s eyes followed hers.
“This plague is rampant. I would stay far from that side of town, my dear.”
“That’s not possible. The Dark Market supplies most of what lines my workroom.” She didn’t add that Riselda, herself, wasn’t bothering to heed her own advice, and when her aunt said nothing further, she continued, “Speaking of, will you return to the role of Ghadra’s Healer now that you’ve returned?”
Riselda laughed, deep and musical. Goosebumps erupted on Lux’s arms at the sound.
“No. That part of my life is thankfully dead.”
“But the mayor—”
“The mayor ,” Riselda leaned forward, eyes raking her face, “cannot touch me.”
Lux eased back, watching her aunt drop her shoulders once more from beneath a hooded gaze. It would appear she’d been wrong to assume the mayor would demand Riselda’s return to the role which he’d appointed her so long ago. Or perhaps he had. And Riselda had refused him.
Though Lux puzzled at why she would. She was Ghadra’s Necromancer. It didn’t make her the mayor’s puppet to be named so.
It didn’t.
“I was welcomed home by a most disturbing site on my doorstep this afternoon. Did you attempt to revive someone with the contagion?”
Lux shook her head. “No. The woman that brought him left without payment. I called for the death-carts, but they must have been delayed.”
“I would strongly suggest you do not attempt such a thing. Even should payment be presented.”
“What? Why not?”
“It isn’t safe. If you should come into contact with the fluids bursting from those boils, you will succumb just the same.”
“I am more than capable of making that decision on my own, Riselda.”
“Not in my home you will not, Lucena.” Lux’s jaw ticked around clenched teeth as the shadows deepened between them. Riselda sighed. “Enough of this dreary subject.”
The carriage slowed to a stop.
“At last. You will simply love the wine here.”
“I don’t—”
The door opened and Riselda exited with a flourish. The vacated space left Lux to wonder just how much more disappointment her aunt would tolerate from her.
Superfluous was the best word that came to mind whenever Lux passed this establishment, and now, here she stood, on the threshold, absorbing the out-of-sight violin’s sweet melody.
Riselda smiled, surveying polished tables, thick candlesticks, crisp uniforms—an abrasive reminder of just how far they were from the Dark. Lux had never possessed the desire to enter this place. She felt like an interloper and fervently wished she had worn a necklace at the very least.
Did Riselda not know her at all?
No. Of course she didn’t. Lux changed much from the little girl who thrived on color, music and joy. She must be unrecognizable.
Lux squared her shoulders and pasted a smirk on her lips. More and more eyes found her: her hair, her dress, her body. Never focusing on her face. She could not vanish here and so must do the next best thing.
Confidence. She oozed it. Rather, she faked it. Lux learned long ago that the more superficial the person, the less likely they were to see past her mask. Unable to read deeper and discover the truth.
“This way, madams.” The vested server led them through the center of the foray.
Lux’s gaze landed on one man in particular as he unabashedly stared at Riselda, the woman at his side looking on with scarlet cheeks. His dramatic squeal reminded her of a chased piglet as his drink tipped onto his lap by her clumsy fingers.
She tucked them demurely in front of her once more, never pausing. But inside she sparked with flame. She longed to kick the chair from beneath him and press a booted heel to his face, forcing him to apologize to both Riselda and his companion in order to secure his release.
She breathed it away.
Riselda was seated first, followed by herself. The round table was lit by a single candlestick flickering with white flame, at a vantage perfect for observing the entire room. Though Lux was keenly aware this meant she would also be so easily inspected. Riselda ordered wine for them both before she could protest the drink, and, with an unapologetic lift to her lips, gazed at her from across the sleek wood.
“That was a nice trick with the glass. I hardly saw your fingers move.” Riselda’s eyes flicked across the room. “He’s still confused as to what happened.” She chuckled, reaching for the napkin.
“People like that disgust me.”
“Oh, so your male friend is not of the same?”
Lux bit her cheek to keep her harsh words from bursting forth. Unfortunately, the pause allowed Shaw’s face to enter her mind instead. Beneath her. She felt the sear of his lips against hers and heated at the mere memory.
“Oh my. Apparently you don’t believe so.” Riselda turned her wicked smile upon the server, accepting the outstretched glass. “I am going to give you some advice, Lucena. Did you see that woman beside the man you deposited wine upon? Her power was drained long ago. Her gaze holds no fire, her words weigh nothing. She can no longer speak because she doesn’t remember how.”
Riselda took a scandalously large sip of the crimson liquid.
“Do you want to know a secret?” Her eyes were a storm. Lux felt sure she could see the lightning striking within. “I almost became her. And when the last of my flame flickered and sputtered, I made my decision. I disappeared—and rose from the ashes.” She eased back into her seat with eyes that slowly shifted back to familiar indigo. “My power is unfathomable now.”
Lux assumed it to be a metaphor, but a small voice deep down rocked back and forth, terrified it was not.
“I’m sorry about all you’ve been through, Aunt, but you don’t know her story.” Though the scene Riselda had painted left her anxious—a situation she would never near. She meant what she had said to Aline. She fully planned to cease contact with Shaw when this was over.
She frowned. When exactly had they become allies?
“I know enough.” Riselda swirled a final swallow in the glass, studying her. “You haven’t tried your wine.”
“I don’t enjoy alcohol.”
Riselda’s mouth tightened, her gaze chilling. “You remind me so much of your mother.” She sniffed, draining her glass. “Your father too, in fact.” She reached across the table, her fingers enclosing greedily over Lux’s wine. The candle’s flame sought her skin, and either she did not feel it, or she didn’t care.
The server returned.
“The chef here is brilliant.” Riselda’s mouth relaxed around the words. Turning back to the server, she added, “Please tell her we would like something new. Something unique.” The server’s lips parted, but her words vanished under the pressure of Riselda’s fingers on her forearm. “Thank you.”
“Tedious.” Her aunt’s eyes found hers again. “Your face is much improved; you’re welcome. Now, tell me how you have been. I feel as if we haven’t spoken much since my return.”
Lux blinked, the demand unexpected. “I have been worried, Riselda. As we all should be.”
“Oh yes. The plague again.” Lux’s eyes bulged against the dismissive tone. “Follow my advice, and you’ve nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not only worried for myself. While I’ve no love for this town, there are still some good people within its walls.”
Riselda snickered into her glass. “There is nothing good left in Ghadra.”
“What do you mean?”
A breadbasket was set between them, and Riselda ripped a roll down its center. “Just as I said. This town is rotting. First the wildlife, the flowers, the walls, and finally, the people.” Riselda bit into the thick crust. “It is rotting. And soon the forest will lay claim to what remains.”
Lux’s appetite was a nonexistent thing. “Is there no stopping it?”
Riselda studied her from the rim of her glass. “Not in the slightest.”
Shadowed tendrils crept through her mind, bringing nightmarish images in their wake. “What will happen to us?”
“I’ve spent many years perfecting my craft. As have you. I’ve little doubt that we will be standing long after these walls fall.”
The answer might have satisfied her once upon a time. Not anymore.
Their plates arrived. Mounds of buttery potatoes had been carved into bird-like shapes, a breast of some roasted fowl dripping and fragrant resting atop each. The aromatic scents nearly brought her hunger back, which was no easy feat considering how nauseated she felt over Riselda’s words. Wings fluttered in the steam as it twined through the air.
Riselda lifted a laden fork to plump lips, her crystal eyes assessing the ones across from her. “You have braved the forest at last, I see.” Lux choked against the bite of food she’d attempted to appease her aunt. Surely, she couldn’t know about her venture. “I happened to notice your departure this afternoon. Don’t worry, I wasn’t spying.” Riselda laughed then, finishing Lux’s wine.
Lux’s constricted chest uncoiled, just a little, thankful Riselda hadn’t been aware of her true encounter with the forbidden wood. She swallowed quickly, wincing. “I had no other choice. The vendor who supplied me with howler canines died. And Shaw has a little knowledge in trapping, so I enlisted his help.” Lux shrugged, unapologetic. “It won’t be possible to revive most without them.”
“You’ve laid traps around the forest edge?”
She nodded.
“I wish you would have consulted with me first.”
Lux fought back a lengthy sigh. “Why is that?”
“Because, darling, I can get you the teeth you need. Quite easily, in fact, and it won’t even require the deaths of the poor animals. Though it may irritate them, that is for certain.” Riselda brought another bite to her full lips.
“How is that possible?” Disbelief coated her words. Howlers were exceptionally quick, vicious, and deadly. The possibility of killing a trapped one set her heart to hammering; she couldn’t fathom coaxing the teeth from the mouth of a very-much-alive beast.
“Every soul yearns for something, Lucena. Give it what it wants, and it becomes a much more amiable being.”
“Fine, what does a howler yearn for?” Her flesh, surely.
Riselda smiled, guessing her thoughts with startling accuracy. “Not your assumption, that’s for certain. Dismantle your traps. I will procure them for you.”
“Well…Thank you, Riselda.” Lux couldn’t hold back her sigh of relief; she’d been dreading an encounter with the creature, half hoping it would fail.
“You’re welcome.” Her aunt’s hand reached across the table, gripping her wrist, her thumb stroking the bare skin. “Now enjoy your meal. Who knows when this, too, will crumble?”
Lux rested back into her chair, eyeing Riselda as she promptly followed her own advice. Beneath the table, she rubbed her wrist, sure it had been worn to the bone.