Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Izzy strode through the castle, away from the clinic. It took effort, but she kept her chin up.
She’d found nothing at the clinic, and now that was closed to her.
Her hope that she and Luka were finally finding their way together had turned to dust. Her friends were readying for war once more, and somewhere in the castle, there was an assassin toying with them all.
Oh, how she missed her brother. Rayan always knew the best way to cheer her up.
Without really thinking, her feet followed the path she had taken hundreds of times when she was a healer in the castle.
Out of the clinic, down the tiled walkway hung with tapestries, through a heavy wooden door, into the elegantly carpeted corridor that led to the apartments where she had lived as a child.
Everyone was gone now. Even Mama had moved to a little coastal village half a day’s ride away.
She had no one to talk to. No shoulder to cry on.
We have each other.
That was true. She also had her work, her shop, and a life to get back to. Her beast’s steady presence filled her as Izzy turned away from the apartments, ready to leave. She just had one more stop to make. She wanted to see for herself where Narya spent her last hours.
She ducked down several corridors, and came out at the Flame Hall.
It was still decorated for feasting. Shimmering silk banners fluttered, and huge candelabras glittered from the dramatic fanned vaulting of the ceiling.
One wall was lined with beaten steel and copper panels, etched with images of the lush flora of Hugaeb—towering mhoba, fragile glass flowers, delicate lace bush, abundant forest bride, and many more.
The other side of the hall held a grand archway that led to the cloister garden and on to the conservatory.
Golden sunlight streamed through the massive yellow, orange, and red stained glass windows that gave the hall its name, illuminating it all.
Izzy walked through the opulence, hardly seeing it.
Instead, she imagined the night of the banquet.
This was where Shane would have flirted with Narya.
That was where they would have eaten plums in spiced syrup.
Drummers and other musicians would have set up in the corner.
In the center of the room, dancers would have entertained the guests.
She wandered over to look through the archway toward the cloister. Shane took Narya this way. Out of the hall, through the quiet candlelight in the cloister, to the conservatory fountains. And then he’d left her there. After that, Narya slipped away… and disappeared.
Someone killed her before she reached the outer doors.
Izzy could easily picture it. One quick stab in the shadows.
No blood or mess, no time for Narya to cry out…
so long as she was standing close enough to her killer.
Was it someone she knew? Someone she felt she could trust?
But why not leave her in a corridor to find?
Why smuggle her out all the way to the Nabaspath?
Shane said there were guards with them the whole time. They would have accompanied him when he left, leaving her alone. If she suddenly collapsed on her own, no one would have even thought of murder.
Mother of the gods. The whole thing was terrible.
Cold prickles itched at the back of her neck, and Izzy looked around, feeling exposed.
Was someone watching her? She spun, a spike of fear speeding her heart, and then let out a relieved chuckle when she saw Cori stepping into the Flame Hall.
“I thought you were gone!” Izzy exclaimed. “Aren’t you mustering the troops?”
“I am,” Cori agreed, making her way past the long wooden tables set with bright linen and shining crystal.
“But it takes time. Our soldiers have been recalled, and now we’re checking and replenishing kit.
My staff sergeant is liaising with the battalion quartermaster to fill the supply wagons so that we can leave before dark.
Hopefully, we’ll clear the city and camp outside the city tonight, ready for a long march tomorrow.
” Cori looked away for a moment. “I’ve left Aiden and Kai in charge for a short while so I could come and see you. A messenger said you’d come this way.”
Gods, a moment before, Izzy had felt like she was utterly alone in the universe, and now here was her closest friend, looking for her, presumably to say goodbye. Cori was going back to the border, and from there, maybe to war.
There was a moment’s silence, and then they both started speaking at once. “I’m sorry—” Cori began just as Izzy said, “I wish—”
They both laughed, and Izzy reached out to take her friend in an affectionate embrace, swaying side to side as they held each other like sisters. When they moved apart, they were both sniffing. “Thank you,” Izzy whispered. “I’m glad you came.”
“Of course I came,” Cori murmured back. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you, and I wanted to apologize again—”
Izzy stopped Cori with a squeeze of her arm. “No more apologies. I understand, and I’ve already forgiven you.” She smiled. “How long do you have before you need to get back? Could we have lunch together?”
“Sorry, Iz, I really can’t.” Cori wrinkled her nose.
“I need to see to my own kit, and I need to visit the barracks kitchens to check arrangements for the meal for everyone before we go. I have to see the horse master, get back to the quartermaster, and then check in with each squad personally, all in the next few hours.”
Izzy sighed. She remembered the chaos of deployment all too well; she just wished everything was different. “Are you glad to be leaving?” she asked gently.
Cori nodded slowly. “I am, actually. It sounds hard to believe, but I was happy enough in our outpost. It’s almost a village now.” She gave Izzy a sad smile. “I didn’t want to come back here.”
“It’s not that hard to believe. I did the same thing; I just didn’t run as far.” Izzy wished there was some way she could help her friend. “Do you think you might meet someone else? Someone who actually deserves you?”
Cori rolled her eyes. “Like you met Jak?”
Izzy snorted. Cori knew all about how hard she’d tried—and how spectacularly she’d failed—to fall in love with Jak.
And now, even the idea of meeting someone else made her feel queasy.
Luka was her mate; that wouldn’t change.
She just had to figure out how to make a good life without him.
“Luka doesn’t want me,” she admitted softly.
“Yes, he does.” Cori’s reply was swift and firm.
Izzy shook her head. “Something happened last night, and I… gods.” She held up her hand and called her claws. They extended slowly, gleaming sapphire-and-onyx.
Cori gasped and reached out a finger to gently prod one claw. “They’re beautiful, Izzy.”
“I know people can move on from a lost mate. It’s not a death sentence like the old myths say, but”—she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands—“I don’t know how.”
“Oh, Izzy,” Cori whispered. “I really thought it would be different.”
“How do I get over him?” Izzy rasped. “What do I do?”
“You keep moving forward,” Cori murmured. “You wake up each day, and you put one foot in front of the other. That’s what I do.” She held up her own hands, wincing as ten glittering midnight-blue claws slid from her fingertips.
“Mother of the Weave.” Izzy threw her arms around Cori’s shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I didn’t know.”
“No one does. Not even Shane,” Cori admitted.
“What can I do?” Izzy asked.
“Find this assassin and finish this. Then tell Luka you love him. Don’t let him push you away because he’s afraid.
” Cori rested her head on Izzy’s shoulder.
“Luka believes that he will always be abandoned, that he will always come last. It’s why he sacrifices himself so easily; it’s better, in his mind, to fall on his sword first, rather than wait to be stabbed. Don’t let him.”
Izzy’s beast hummed its agreement.
“Maybe.” Izzy wasn’t convinced. “But what about you? How can I help you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve lived like this for years now.” Cori brushed a short curl from her forehead. “Anyway, I’m going back to the place where I know who I am and I’m respected for my skill. And now that I report to the queen, I don’t even have to speak to Shane ever again.”
That sounds terrible.
It was, but maybe it was for the best.
Cori turned toward the doorway. “Walk with me back to the barracks?”
“Of course. I’m heading back to my shop now. I’ll come out that way.”
They walked out of the hall together, past a pair of silent, watchful guards. Seeing them, Izzy’s earlier question came back to her. There were guards all along the exit route, so how did the assassin get Narya’s body out of the cloister and through the doors without anyone noticing?
She stilled, thinking back to that night, to her own secret entry into the castle.
There’d been a man at the door, fighting with his apprentice.
Izzy’s pulse quickened, and she put her hand out toward Cori, pulling her to a stop.
“There was a drummer, a man with a beard. He had robes with silver lining. How big was his drum?”
Cori nodded. “I remember him. He played a huge barrel drum. It was so heavy, one of the guards had to help lift it onto the handcart at the end of their performance. They wheeled it into the cloister, presumably planning to clear it away after the banquet.”
“I saw a man like that when I came in with Aiden,” Izzy whispered. “He’d lost his instrument!”
They stared at each other in horror. It wasn’t lost. Someone took the drum.
That’s how the assassin got the body out of the castle!
Scales fluttered over Izzy’s wrists. “All the assassin had to do was slip the body inside the drum and wheel it out.”
Cori looked appalled. “Wouldn’t the guards at the gate have checked?”
“There were so many people coming and going, they probably saw a drum on a cart being pushed away and thought nothing of it. Why would they check something that was leaving when they had so much to check coming in?”
“But why would a physik help with the instruments? Wouldn’t the guards notice that?”
Izzy rubbed her forehead where an ache gathered. “Maybe they said they knew the drummers? Maybe they dressed like a musician or wore a big cloak?”
They reached the barracks and stopped together. Cori turned toward her, worry clouding her brown eyes. “You need to tell Shane and Luka.”
“I will.” Izzy huffed. “Even though I’d rather not talk to either of them.”
Cori pulled her into a quick embrace. “If it helps, I feel the same way. Still, the best thing is to pull the thorn out quickly, before it festers.” She let out a dry chuckle. “Unless it’s anything to do with Shane, then I’m all for festering.” She sobered. “That’s why it’s better for me to go.”
Izzy sent a quick prayer to the Mother of the Weave, asking her to protect her friend. “Be careful, Cori. Come home safe to us.”
“You too, Izzy. Don’t try to solve this on your own.”
Izzy nodded. “I won’t.”
“Bye, Iz. Write to me and let me know that you’re well.” Cori opened the barracks door, turning at the last moment to raise her hand in farewell before disappearing inside.
Izzy stood for a moment, watching the space where her friend had been as a shiver worked its way down her spine.
I’ve got a bad feeling.
Me too, Izzy agreed. Now that Cori was gone, she was alone again, and the feeling of being watched was back. She looked around her carefully, but no one seemed interested in her at all.
She shook off the feeling. She was tired and worried; it wasn’t surprising that she saw danger in every corner. She flagged down a messenger who told her that Luka and Shane were both still in the meeting with the archthane in the Burnished Hall.
Interrupting them there could only make things more difficult, but where could she go? Not Luka’s room, which she’d locked that morning. Not the clinic, which she’d been all but thrown out of.
Her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything that day. She could visit the dining hall, find some food, and wait for Luka. Then she’d tell him her suspicions and, finally, go home.
She had just reached the hall, the smell of fresh bread and roasted meats lingering enticingly in the air, when a handsome city guard caught up to her.
He bowed politely. “Mistress Izabel, I’m glad to have found you.”
“Good afternoon.” She returned his bow, trying to place him. She’d seen him before, but where? Was this someone she’d treated in her clinic?
“I’m Sergeant Dashiell,” he explained with a dimpled smile. “The knight commander sent me.”
So, this is the man who found Narya.
She remembered now; she’d seen him in the corridor the night she’d rushed to help Shane. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Dashiell. Did Commander Luka have a message for me?”
“He told me that you needed a guard and asked me to accompany you home.” A flicker of mulberry-purple scales gleamed at Dashiell’s throat as he settled into a relaxed stance, his hands clasped behind his back. “The knight commander will join you there as soon as he’s free.”
Izzy frowned. “I thought….” She paused. She’d thought Luka would avoid her for as long as possible, but she wasn’t going to say that. “I hadn’t expected a guard.”
His relaxed smile didn’t falter. “My instructions were to follow at a distance and see you safely inside your shop.”
Izabel wavered for a moment—the rich scent from the dining hall was hard to ignore—but she wanted to go home, and this was exactly the sort of thing Luka would do. He would want her to be safe; she knew that. And if he was coming to see her later, she could share her concerns with him then.
Luka obviously thought it was okay for her to leave, and she remembered him mentioning that he was considering Dashiell for a place in the castle guard. “Okay. I’ll just ask a messenger to let Commander Luka know.”
“Of course.” Dashiell gave her a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you write him a note?”
That was a good idea. Izzy had a pouch with a small selection of portable inkwells and parchment.
She settled at the end of a table in the dining hall and wrote a quick letter to Luka, telling him Dashiell had found her and she was going home.
She sealed it with a double fold, tucking the flap inside.
The sergeant took the note politely and strode to a messenger at the side of the hall. She watched as he handed it over with a few low words.
Good. She would be safe walking through the market. Sergeant Dashiell would see her home, and she could catch her breath before she had to face Luka. Izzy lifted her satchel higher on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Of course.” He dipped into a perfect bow. “You go ahead, and I’ll follow ten paces behind. Don’t worry about anything.” He smiled. “I’ll watch over you.”