Chapter 12
· YEMI ·
Amber Lake was named for the way the sun sometimes reflected perfectly on its surface. It was known to glitter a blinding gold at a magic hour, and this cloak of brightness was said to shield the magic makers of their world from prying eyes.
The evening Yemi and Nova arrived, however, was deluged.
The steel-gray sky had opened up and unleashed a violent torrent of rain, slowing their last hour of travel to a crawl as they sought shelter in the abandoned and burned-out ruins of old structures dotting the countryside.
Yemi, who could feel her soaked skin growing raw beneath the bands of her subarmor, insisted that they rest, but Nova assured her the downpour made for the best camouflage, as no one else would be on the roads.
They had quit the horses a ways north at a shepherd’s farm.
Neither had spoken much on the way, though each was likely thinking about Cutter.
Yemi stole glances at Nova’s stony expression, unsure if these were moments of necessary quiet between friends and lovers or if she should attempt to break the ice.
Nova was more focused lately than Yemi had ever seen her and she knew it was because this was the job.
Personal guards to Ixian royals underwent the most vigorous training.
They sacrificed the most sleep, the most peace; learned to be faster, stronger, smarter, to endure more and kill earlier than anyone else in uniform ever had to.
It spanned their entire lives. Even in better days—like the ones of two weeks ago—Nova had taken her position seriously, she’d just found ways to inject levity into it.
Now Yemi was queen—by right, anyway. But by the Drakes’ definition of treason, she was a wanted woman.
No one would be more responsible for Yemi’s death, and the constant vigilance as they trekked across the country was beginning to show in Nova’s silence, the setting of her jaw, and the pained exhaustion settling in beneath her eyes.
Yemi was tempted to believe there was nothing she could do about it. But the ghost of her mother demanded she hold herself accountable.
They sheltered in the remains of a lean-to on the edge of the woods, overlooking the lake and the heavy mists surrounding it. There was nothing dry in the way of kindling but the ceiling was intact. They were left to shudder and hope that the rain let up soon.
Yemi could make out the crossroads bordering the glen, and a warm light along the edges of a large house on the far side of the swelling lake, seemingly propped up by the massive trunks of twisted beech trees that somehow felt out of place.
“If a witch lived anywhere, it’d probably be there,” she said, biting her tongue to keep her teeth from chattering.
“Alright,” Nova replied. Yemi watched her gingerly remove her harness and shirt in the dry corner of the structure. She held both between her teeth as pain twitched across her face, and began unwrapping the subarmor beginning from her bicep. The skin beneath it was pale and waterlogged.
“Shit. Let me help,” Yemi said, taking the end and gently plying it away from Nova’s skin with trembling fingers.
Thin lines from where the bindings pinched in their overlap began to peel and bleed in thin rivulets that carved their way between the growing goose bumps.
Yemi knew the same thing was happening beneath her own armor.
She could feel the skin over her ribs, raw and tearing in protest of her jostling.
There simply hadn’t been time to remove it, or a reason that somehow outweighed the risk of being shot.
Nova cursed and spun slowly as Yemi reached her ribs and continued to her waist.
“Think happy thoughts,” Yemi told her.
“You mean the banquet, hot bath, and warm bed we’d have in Muris right now?”
“Other happy thoughts.”
“Uh… come back to me.” Nova chuckled through her wincing.
“We can’t stay here,” Yemi whispered.
“How far is the house?”
“Half a mile? Other side of the lake, but the close end.”
“And you think she’ll be happy to see you? She’s a witch, so I have to assume there are worse things than a bullet waiting for us if she’s not.”
Maybe, Yemi thought. It was possible that Selah had genuinely liked her mother, but the woman was impossible to read. Yemi kissed Nova gently between two welts on her rib cage. It was better than a lie.
“I’m sorry for this. I never meant to make you suffer for me,” she told her.
Nova smirked down at Yemi as she wrung the water from her shirt to put it back on.
“I don’t know; I kind of like it when you have to apologize to me,” she said, tying the loose subarmor in a draping knot on her hip.
She finished getting dressed and shook the chill from her bones.
Yemi felt a glimmer of warmth just seeing the spark return to her eyes.
“We go quickly. You die of pneumonia, then this is all for nothing,” Nova said.
“Please—I’m half Mer. These are probably summer-home conditions,” Yemi replied.
They emerged from the forest and headed into the long grass, their feet swallowed by mud that threatened to sink them whole.
The lake was ringed by a narrow trail, which separated the rising waters from the tall grass and also carved a path from the house to the main stretch of road.
They avoided the path, in case—Yemi assumed—it wasn’t safe for the witch to see them coming.
As they negotiated a gradual decline into deeper mud and taller grass, lights flashed across Yemi’s face.
She and Nova froze as a car turned onto a road behind the house.
Two people got out and split up in the long grass when Yemi slid down the short hill behind Nova and ducked.
Round headlights still shone in their direction, but maybe they were far off enough that no one took notice.
“Soldiers,” Nova whispered.
“Here for her,” Yemi replied. At least she had the right place.
They stood still in the grass and waited, straining to hear approaching danger over the rain pelting the reeds. Before long, they crept forward until Yemi could see the path again, and the one soldier stalking toward the house with a short blade drawn.
Other one’s probably around the back side of the house, Yemi thought, and considered this might end up a rescue mission Nova couldn’t execute on her own. She tightened her grip on her spear and kept her head on a swivel.
Nova gestured for her to stay where she was and edged out of the grass behind the target. They were near enough to the house now that the light spilling out of the doorway shone on their faces, on the blades of one of Nova’s fans as she drew it from its harness on her back.
Yemi pushed forward to clear her line of sight to the open area. Her heart stopped when a woman appeared at the top of the house’s stairs, light at her back making it impossible to tell if she was familiar.
“No!” the woman yelled. Nova stuttered in her steps, surprised, head snapping up toward the porch just in time to see the woman fling her arm outward, sending Nova crashing backward through the reeds by means of some invisible force.
The woman then turned her hand slowly in a rising gesture, and the assassin floated upward, feet kicking inches off the ground and hands scrabbling at an invisible nothing around his throat.
With a flick of the woman’s wrist, the soldier’s head spun around in a rapid series of loud cracks.
He dropped to the ground with a sodden thud and promptly burst into purple flames.
“Nova!” Yemi shrieked and stepped out onto the trail to search for her, skirting the heap of burning flesh and trying not to gag on the smell. Nova stumbled groggily back out of the reeds, and Yemi grabbed her arm to help her onto solid ground.
The woman leaned against the doorframe and curved her finger in a come-hither gesture.
Yemi and Nova approached cautiously, Yemi in particular scowling and ready to let her spear show her displeasure.
The woman was younger than Selah. Maybe the Bear Queen’s age, a glowing brown with full lips, green eyes, and long braids the color of brick dust. Slowly, she began to change, however, growing shorter, grayer, familiarly crotchety.
“Selah?” Yemi said tentatively.
“We don’t spill blood here. Nothing will grow,” she said when they were closer.
Yemi nodded.
“Come to take me up on my offer, then?” she grunted, heading back into the house before they could respond. “Come on.”
Yemi nodded. She and Nova exchanged wide-eyed glances before they followed.
The other guy? Yemi mouthed.
I don’t know, Nova mouthed back.
They climbed the stairs and entered a courtyard teeming with plants. It smelled of sandalwood and damp earth, and the ceiling was open to the sky. A birdbath overflowed with rainwater, and small frogs and lizards darted among thick, dark leaves.
“That’s the third patrol this week. They’re persistent,” said Selah as she led them along a walkway made of cedar slats to the interior of the house itself.
It was a large, square room with open porticos leading to three other courtyards, a short staircase descending beneath one.
The walls, too, were made of cedar and peppered with potted plants and loaded bookcases with bowing shelves.
A fire roared in a brick fireplace bordering a small kitchen. Yemi was grateful for the warmth.
“How do you know it’s safe to invite us in?” Nova asked.
“Oh, if you meant to do me harm, you’d have taken root in the courtyard.
Isn’t that right?” And here she stroked the chin of a tree whose branches angled into an open window as she passed it on the way to the kitchen.
Embedded in the bark was a human face, barely recognizable and contorted in drooling agony as it gasped its ragged breaths.
Yemi casually searched the potted plants and courtyard entrances for other faces, afraid to touch anything. She was certain something had reached out to graze her ankle on the way in.