Interlude
Ten Years Prior
Damascus collapsed to the cavern floor. His energy spent with the use of his magic, from the effort of lifting an entire mountain.
“Da!” Oliviana broke into a run, rushing to get to her father, but Caius Amarala was rooted in place, as if the cavern floor had opened up, inviting in the beasts of Oinarriajī to swallow him whole.
Damascus Lux was a mage. A powerful one.
And if his father ever found out, he would kill him for possessing such power.
Caius set his jaw. Nero could never know.
Something stirred in the shadows beyond the broken cavern wall, catching Caius’ attention. A zhìsatorra emerged from the tunnel beyond the crack. His gaze darted from the hulking mass to Oliviana. The beast was headed straight for her, but she was so focused on her father—
“Oliviana!” Caius yelled, throwing himself forward.
She might have been faster than him on a rock wall, but he could outrun their entire class.
Caius sprinted, barreling into Oliviana, wrapping his arms around her.
He covered her body with his, taking her to the ground with him, just barely escaping the deadly shears of the zhìsatorra as they sliced through the back of his tunic.
Caius was mildly aware that those blade-like claws had caught more than fabric, but the adrenaline pulsing through his veins on a thundering heartbeat kept the worst of it from him.
Caius turned to get a look at their attacker, doing his best to shield Oliviana from the beast. The zhìsatorra stood at least two meters tall, covered in black shaggy hair that faded to silver at the tips.
Its snout was elongated and its face eerie with its lack of eyes; in their place were two dark bulges covered in velvety black hair.
The creatures were sightless. The domesticated ones depended on their riders to guide them, while the wild ones relied on sound and touch as they burrowed through the deepest shale.
Atop the zhìsatorra sat a rider swathed head to toe in black, a scarf wrapped around their head and face, leaving just dark, angry eyes visible.
The rider yelled something in a language Caius couldn’t understand, but the rhythm of it felt familiar, like the lullabies his stepmother sang to Cressida in the middle of the night when the rest of the world slept. Suadeian.
The rider yanked on his reins, pulling the zhìsatorra back onto its hind legs, its half-meter-long claws drawn back in preparation to strike. This, Caius understood. They needed to move.
Grabbing Oliviana tight against him—he felt her body coiled, ready to explode into action with her delicate fingers fisted in his tunic—he rolled them both to the side.
The displacement of air overhead and the clang of shears on stone told him it was a close thing, and they weren’t out of danger yet.
He pulled Oliviana to her feet with him, sparing a moment to look her over.
Her face was dirty and her lip split, but she wore an expression of grim determination.
Still clutching tight to him, her knuckles blanched white, but her focus was just behind him.
Caius turned to find the zhìsatorra pressing closer.
Throwing an arm out, Caius shoved Oliviana behind him, backing them away from the beast, and ever closer to the cavern wall.
Lacing his fingers with Oliviana’s, he dropped into a crouch, ready to sprint to safety, towing the stubborn girl he couldn’t get out of his mind behind him.
But every time he made to dart past the creature, the zhìsatorra lunged, slicing out with its deadly claws, blocking any attempt at escape, until Caius took a step back and found he was blocked by Oliviana’s soft curves, the shadows of the recessed wall casting him in gloom.
“He has us pinned down,” Oliviana said into his ear, her body pressed against the cavern wall.
Their attacker had backed them into an abandoned mining shed, a recess cut into the wall reinforced with steel to lock away explosives and heavy equipment.
But even the steel structure wouldn’t hold the zhìsatorra off for long.
Caius turned his back to the beast, cradling Oliviana’s face in his hands. Her beautiful blue eyes, wide with panic, tore at his heart. He never wanted to see that look on her face again. And given what he was about to do, he never would.
“Listen to me.” He demanded her attention, holding her gaze. “When that thing breaks through, I want you to sprint straight for your Da.”
“No,” Oliviana whimpered, trying to shake her head, but Caius held firm, keeping her gaze locked on his. “We’ll both go.” Her voice came out a broken whisper.
His throat bobbed. They both know that his plan was to take a blow from the shears that tunnel through shale and would slice through his bone. He hoped the moments those monstrous claws were stuck in his flesh would be enough for her to get away.
The sound of claws striking against metal continued. Not long now. Caius’ gaze dropped to her lips, and he regretted that he was going to die without ever knowing what they tasted like.
“Do not fight me on this, Oliviana. I will let you win every game of Weiqi from here on out if you just do this one thing.” His throat grew thick. They both knew there would be no more games after tonight.
“Don’t you dare go easy on me,” she countered, that spark lighting in her eyes, that fierce determination that made him fall for her.
Then Caius knew exactly what to say. “Then you’d better run like hell when that thing breaks through. I’ll race you to the river.”
Oliviana’s eyes shone with unshed tears, rage burning through the blue, but she nodded.
Caius pressed his eyes closed, dropping his forehead to hers, winding a lock of her golden hair around his finger, and letting himself imagine what life with her would have been like if he had lived to see it.
Crack, the sound of shears on metal shifted.
Caius braced his body against the cave wall, sheltering Oliviana as best he could while leaving room for her to dart out from under his arm and to safety.
Against his better judgment, he glanced behind him, to find the zhìsatorra reared up on its hind legs, preparing to deliver the blow he was certain would break their shelter and herald his death, but time slowed, giving Caius a chance to glimpse something more.
Beyond the zhìsatorra, stood a man, Damascus.
His posture powerful and menacing, he yanked the leather pouch he always carried from the cord looped around his neck, dumping the contents into his palm.
Dark shadows lashed out, an angry storm with Damascus as the conductor.
The shadows spiraled up around the zhìsatorra tangling the creature like veins of death, wrapping around the Suadeian rider like a net and then in one swift motion, they cut through human and beast alike, dicing their assailants into nothing more than fleshy rubble.
Everything went dark and hazy. When Caius’ vision cleared, Damascus held Oliviana in one powerful arm, that leather pouch clutched in his grip, the other hand clasped around Caius’ neck, pulling the boy close to their embrace.
“Are you hurt?” Damascus’ gaze roved over his daughter, worry carved into the lines of his face.
Oliviana shook her head. “I’m fine, Da.” Her gaze was locked on Caius, worry, confusion, gratitude, he wasn’t sure what he read in those lapis eyes.
Damascus shifted his attention to the boy.
“I’m fine,” Caius said stubbornly, ignoring the hot blood dripping down his back, igniting a searing pain through his wounds.
Damascus released his grip on his daughter, shifting to inspect the wound on the boy’s back. “That will need stitches. Let’s get you to the clinic.”
“It’s fine.” Caius tried to shrug out of Damascus’ grip, but the older man’s hands were like iron vices.
Damascus took both of Caius’s shoulders in his hands, squaring up with the boy. Caius flinched. The only time his own father laid a hand on him was to deliver punishment.
Damascus’ grip was firm, but not unkind. “You saved my daughter’s life tonight. I won’t see you bleed out on the walk home. Now let’s get you to the clinic.”
Caius worked to shove down the emotions that bubbled up at the kind gesture.
Would his father have cared for him like this had his mother not died all those years ago?
Caius chased the thought back into the shadows of his mind where it belonged.
Best not to dwell on things that will never be, and yet his unease remained, because his father was not Damascus.
Because his father would find out if he went to the clinic—what would he tell him?
No. It was best if Nero never knew his son was at the site of the Suadeian attack.
It was best if Nero never knew that any of them were here.
His father was a spider, spinning webs and collecting secrets, laying traps and telling lies.
The less Nero knew about any of this, the safer Damascus’ secret would be.
“It looks worse than it is, Master Tinkerer,” Caius’ voice softened, his shoulders relaxing under Damascus palms. The older man looked him over again.
It was obvious that Caius’ words had done little to assuage his worries.
But then the klaxons rang. Someone had found the dead guard, and reinforcements would be on their way.
Caius started for the tunnel back to Bǎodela proper, turning to make sure that Damascus and Oliviana were moving. “It’s best that no one knows about this.”
Caius exchanged a look with Damascus, his gaze dropping to the leather pouch clutched in the Master Tinker’s hand. Damascus gave a slight nod, an understanding passing between them before they split into the branching tunnels that would take them each to their homes.
The feel of Oliviana in his arms lingered on his skin long after he had departed into the dark. Any doubts he may have had shattered that night; he would do anything for that girl.
Caius focused on the things he had seen unsaid in her eyes; it helped quell the pain radiating across his back.
The bleeding had slowed, but even the slightest stirring of air lit a fire across the raw nerve endings exposed there.
Better to focus on Oliviana. On the way, her hair felt between his fingertips, and the soft skin of her cheeks, the way her eyes glittered with determination, and the soft part of her lips.
He could have kissed her. He was about to die, and he hadn’t had the courage to kiss her.
He decided right then he was going to rectify that mistake first chance he got—
“And where have you been tonight, son?”
Perhaps if he hadn’t been distracted thinking of Oliviana that night would have gone differently, but Caius had stumbled right into Nero’s web, and after a lifetime spent under his father’s cruel hand Caius knew one thing for certain: no one ever escaped Nero.