Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
ALLIE
“ L et me get this straight.” Dax rubbed his temples, the palaver portal shimmering. “After you lectured me about how dangerous Aquila is, you want me to go back in?”
“Correct,” I said.
“And infiltrate the castle.”
“Yes.”
“And find the vault parchments you’d been studying before the wedding.”
“If you can, yes.”
No matter which way I turned the problem, the solution always came back to those bleeding vault records.
Gold had a way of twisting loyalty into something crude. The coffers had been leaking and I hadn’t found the source before I’d been taken.
But someone, somewhere, must have thought I had–or was afraid I would very soon.
That’s why they’d wanted me dead before anyone else, to make sure that truth remained as buried as I would have been if I hadn’t followed my instincts, as doubtful as I had been of them on that day.
There was a clue hidden in those parchments, I was sure of it.
And only I could find it.
“Of course I can.” Dax scoffed. “But you asking me to help is shocking, dear cousin.”
“Let’s not pretend you weren’t going to return to Aquila anyway. Despite my warnings.”
A wicked smirk appeared on his face. “I’ve already gone back in last night. Slipped some tonic into Silas’ favorite wine barrel, nobody bothered to secure the cellar. Amateurs. He won’t be leaving the outhouse for the next three days. I want to make him suffer in every possible way.”
I raised my brows. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“I always do. I have my own reasons to keep returning to Aquila. Ones which will help us immensely if I’m successful.”
“Care to share?”
“Only after I’m done. You might trust your Commander enough to speak about secrets in his fortress, but I don’t.”
My sigh blended in with the crisp, fresh air wafting in through the balcony doors. Instead of wallowing, as I’d done for too many days, as soon as I woke up, I sprang out of bed and yanked them open. The room which had felt like a cocoon while I’d licked my wounds was turning stuffy.
Yes, I was still tired beyond comprehension.
Yes, my powers were still not reliable on the best of days.
No, my soul still hadn’t completely comprehended all the changes it had survived in such a short amount of time.
But I had a purpose again.
Follow the gold.
Find the clue.
Figure out the plot which had torn my family apart.
“Dax, I know you’re brilliant,” I began.
“Why, thank you.” He inclined his head dramatically. “You choked a bit on the compliment, didn’t you?”
“My mouth does feel a bit drier now that you mention it.” I huffed a laugh through my nose.
Gods, it felt good to joke around, like we did before.
Our world had cracked, but the shards were still there, waiting to be placed back together.
Maybe a little crooked, maybe with a few pieces missing, but still possible.
“I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risk.
If you feel like getting those records is too dangerous–”
“If you keep warning me, I’ll start to think you don’t actually believe I’m all that brilliant.”
I sighed. “Dax, this is serious. I’d rather forget about the whole thing than have you hurt.”
“Well, now, that’s insulting.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“The fact that I care about you?” I rolled my eyes. “Yes, how awful of me, I’m such a cow.”
“That you don’t think I can pull it off.”
“You obviously can, you’ve done worse. And more dangerous.”
“Yes, I did. And don’t you forget that.”
I raised my brows. “You’re being strange.”
“All Veghearas are strange.”
“Yes, we are,” I said and we both nodded those Vegheara chins of ours. “But stranger than usual. What’s wrong?”
Dax leaned back in his chair and turned his head toward the window, as if he could avoid the conversation through distance alone.
I knew that look. The one he wore before he confessed something. I steeled myself for whatever he had to say.
His jaw ticked, the soft orange light dancing across his face. I knew that orange hue; if I closed my eyes, I could almost feel it on my own skin.
He was close to Aquila.
Too close.
I let him fight with his own thoughts, like I had to do with mine.
“It’s hard, you know?” he said at last, voice as faraway as he was through the portal.
My heart clenched. “I miss all of you, too. I want us to be back home and laugh at the dinner table and fight over the last bread roll.”
He huffed a laugh, but it didn’t sound the least bit amused. It cut the air like a blade.
“Not that. It’s hard to know you can do something and have to stay your hand.” He finally turned to look at me, this time with that cold, strategic gaze he kept so well hidden. But this time, it had a ferocity in it I didn’t recognize. “I want to kill Silas.”
It was my turn to lean back in my chair; only I fell back onto it. “Dax…”
“Tell me not to, Allie.” He fisted and unfisted his palms against his biceps, as if he wanted to tear flesh away from bone with all that unspent–and unwise–energy.
“Every single night, I throw my daggers at the wall to keep from marching into our stronghold. It would be so easy, too. I know three different ways to get into his room undetected. No matter how many paid mercenaries he has guarding him, I could slip past them without breaking a sweat. I’ve imagined prowling toward his bed in the blue night, while he snores up a storm with that ridiculous green nightcap he wears to protect those five remaining hairs on his head.
He always cared more about protecting himself than anything and anyone else, even his own daughter.
He’s moved into Alaric’s bedroom, you know? ”
Just when I didn’t think Silas could stoop any lower, he dared disrespect my father’s memory by trespassing in his room less than a year after he had died?
The books my father kept on his nightstand, the smell of bergamot and lamp oil, the simple linen sheets he preferred, the same ones I’d snuggled into whenever I had a nightmare as a child.
Now those same sheets would cradle the nightmare himself.
The image blurred, and cracked, leaving only rage behind.
My chest rose and fell furiously, lips pursing to keep the words from breaking Dax’s speech. I gave him the same freedom the Commander had given me last night, to spit it out before it festered inside too much.
But, oh, they were ugly, bitter words.
“And I can just stand over him–” He picked up a dagger from the side and twirled it with expert movements, before grasping the pommel hard enough that his fist shook.
His eyes glazed and his top lip curled over as he stared down.
“–and end it. One swipe and I’ll end his pitiful existence which had brought nothing but misery. ”
The silence that followed was filled with
“He wouldn’t put up a fight. Wouldn’t even have time to open his eyes and see his own nephew had killed him,” Dax said in a haunting voice, eyes still unfocused. “It would be so easy.”
It would.
Silas would be gone in the blink of an eye, after a life of nothing but sucking on the Vegheara family’s legacy. The only good and pure thing he’d done was have Clara, and that had taken maybe thirty seconds of his time.
“Tell me not to kill him, Allie,” Dax said, so low, I almost didn’t hear him.
But I did–and, for a terrifying moment, my mouth opened, but the simple no didn’t come.
“Tell me not to do what I know I can easily do. What I want to do. Tell me not to kill him. Because I am losing my mind,” he said, almost pleading, eyes jumping to me.
For the briefest moment, I allowed myself to indulge in that violent, insane plot.
Simply let Dax loose and get rid of Silas.
Cut the snake’s head off and watch its body writhe underneath our boots as we reclaimed what was ours.
As we restored the order we knew our Clan deserved, through brute power if we had to.
It was tempting. So tempting, I had to grip onto my seat to keep from saying anything I would regret.
One word.
That’s all it would take.
The monster in me, poked and prodded for too long, wanted to let it loose.
But I was stronger than my violent urges.
I had to be.
“We are not warlords. Or cowards,” I said evenly. “Let Silas be the only stain on the Vegheara name.”
Dax still gripped the dagger tightly.
“Killing Silas won’t bring us answers,” I said at last, fighting my baser instincts, just like he had to. “He couldn’t have planned this whole takeover on his own. He had help–and we need to find out from whom. We have a better chance of discovering that while he’s alive.”
Dax nodded and released a heavy sigh, like he finally had the permission to not murder. Then kept on nodding, lost in his own thoughts.
I’d always had a weird sort of fascination with Dax’s attitude. Ever since we’d been children, he’d captivated rooms with nothing but an easy grin and a tilt of his head.
He’d only gotten better with age, charming leaders, queens, merchants, spies, and everyone in between.
It was a skill I’d wanted for myself, but had never been able to mimic.
That easy air that made people lower their guard and gravitate toward him.
I’d envied him for it, my own cousin.
Then I’d found out what turmoil hid behind that charming smile. And I only knew a glimpse of him.
I wondered if anyone, even his twin sister, knew what he truly hid behind his sharp allure.
I hadn’t envied him since and I definitely didn’t right now. My own thoughts tormented me, only in different ways.
Perhaps it was a Vegheara curse.
“Plus,” I said, my own voice turning cold and unforgiving. “Silas’ life is mine to take.”
For my father.
For my family.
For the Clan that didn’t want me anymore.
Most of all, for myself.
I didn’t know if I could do it, but I wanted the chance to try.
Dax nodded gravely, as if we’d just made a blood oath. “Very well. He is yours.”
He finally lowered his hand, placing the dagger on the table.
“To protect is to endure,” I whispered.
“To protect is to endure,” he echoed and ran a hand over his hair.
“Did you–did you see my father’s funeral?” I forced myself to ask.
Dax’s expression softened instantly, but he shook his head.
“I’ve only focused on marking and testing entry and exit points, Silas’ schedule, number of guards, the usual.
I only go in at night and leave as quickly as possible.
To be honest, I’ve only focused on the castle, I haven’t even gotten near the town square.
I only take calculated risks, Allie. I’m staying safe, I promise. ”
I’d told myself I already knew Dax was cautious, that he was the best at what he did in all of Malhaven, that he hadn’t been discovered so far and never would, hearing him say the words soothed me.
“I’ll get you those parchments.” The wicked smirk returned on his face with a vengeance. “And I’m going to love hearing Silas’ roar when he realizes what happened.”
After mapping out the essentials, one loud argument about the proper way to make guards faint–Dax preferred a sleeping drought, I went for that soft point on the jugular–and a farewell that devolved into me laughing hard enough that I had to catch myself from falling out of the chair, Dax and I closed the portal.
I splayed my hands onto his book and drew on that fickle well of power in me.
“ May the sand and sea of Aquila hear my plea ,” I chanted, power coursing from my chest onto my hands, and burning me in its wake. “ As every Vegheara has given their blood to protect you, now protect Dax from harm for me .”
The soft breeze from the window turned into a gale of wind as my power thrashed through me, a wild, untamable thing. Before, it could be controlled, like an ancient, tranquil river.
It sucked too much of my energy, but it worked.
I gave Dax’s book one last loving pat before pushing it forward, in the middle of the line I’d designated for all my cousins’ palavers.
But the wind didn’t cease. It kept tangling in my hair, as if it wanted to draw my attention.
Beckoning me.
Finally, I listened and looked outside–at the city I’d scouted so thoroughly before, but hadn’t bothered with since coming back.
The one I’d used for my own selfish means and hadn’t truly learned anything meaningful about.
The thought of walking in those streets when everyone knew what I’d done–and with those damn hounds sniffing in the market–had halted me until now.
But just like I now had a purpose, I also needed to have remorse and strength to face what I had done to these strangers.
If I would live here, I couldn’t hole myself up in the fortress for all eternity.
I had to face my mistakes–and their consequences.
With a trembling heart, I stood and left the room to return to the scene of my crime.