Chapter Fourteen
Iryana stared at the trio high on the Beast’s Poppy, the look so painfully familiar.
The brigade wasn’t allowed to sell the drug, but clearly they didn’t have an issue turning a blind eye to using it. Perhaps they weren’t being too obvious with it, but for Iryana, it was like a beacon of light now shining down on them. Impossible to miss.
She tried to stop the memories bleeding into the scene before her.
Tried to shut down the image of their ropes coming undone, their bodies rising with the magic, perhaps lifting all the way to the ceiling.
Yet she still flinched as she imagined the drug wearing off, their bodies suddenly dropping into the unsuspecting crowds below. The screaming.
Iryana forced herself to look around her, swallowing. The voices and laughter were suddenly deafening, the shadows curling menacingly, and her collar tightening against her throat. Her pleasant buzz turned to nausea.
“Give me my coins, Vabihn,” she demanded, her voice nearly a shriek. “I don’t have time to play your stupid games.”
The table dissolved into silence, every pair of eyes finding her.
“Fine.” Vabihn snapped. The others glared at her as he tossed the coins at her. “Not interested in your stuck-up presence, anyway.”
A small voice in the back of her head said she’d messed up, but Iryana was on the verge of exploding. She snatched up the pouch before running from the room.
Iryana didn’t sleep that night. After the hall, she’d run laps inside the fort, hoping to calm herself down.
Yet when she finally crawled beneath her blankets, she spent the night rolling around in her bed until Vaneshta stumbled in, louder than usual.
Then she’d lain there silently, not moving a muscle, until she heard Vaneshta’s bed creaking and the soft snores that followed.
Once she was sure her roommate was sleeping deeply, she slipped out of their room.
Her movements were almost frantic as she made her way out of the barracks and across the grounds, climbing to the top of one of the tall towers.
While soldiers walked the walls, the lookout spots at the top of each tower were empty.
It took little effort to pull herself through the opening and onto the roof.
Finally, huddled in her cloak and with nothing above her but the sky, Iryana could breathe.
The wooden shingles were cold beneath her, but she didn’t care.
The air was crisp and slightly sweet, and she could just make out the faintest green smudges of the auroras.
They were nothing compared to the darkest nights of winter, but they calmed her all the same.
The moon was almost a perfect quarter, signaling a single week until the moonless night.
Time was flying so quickly and drudging so slowly at the same time.
She could make out the fields in the moonlight, where the farmers had been sowing barley and rye.
The bloated river curling around the fortress.
The wood-bricked streets that were still muddy no matter how many times they were cleared.
Her first meeting with her sister was creeping up on her, only days away.
They’d agreed to meet on the first night of the Greening Moon, about three weeks since she’d left the post. Iryana wished she had asked for more time, didn’t know if her progress would satisfy Hadima.
She dreaded the look of disappointment that said, why did I ever think you could do this?
She couldn’t even reach out to the major for help; he’d apparently been visiting with the 18th’s general for the last few weeks, so she didn’t have a single ally. Her muscles started tensing again.
Up there on the wooden roof, starry sky stretched out above her, Iryana felt disconnected from everything.
The blurred light of the stars wasn’t enough to provide much comfort from the oppressive expanse of the world around her, not that she was looking for comfort.
She wanted the world around her to reflect how she felt inside. Numb, useless, and empty.
A shiver crept up her spine.
Even with her endless thinking, Iryana did not know what to do. How was she supposed to act like everything was fine when she saw the poppy addicts? When it felt like she couldn’t do anything right?
So she sat there all night. As the owls and bats swooped above the trees out in the distance. As the sky began to lighten, and soft pinks tinged the clouds. As the birds began to sound their morning calls, the roosters in the fort joining in.
Since they’d just returned from their mission the evening before, Iryana was expecting a day or two off. Plenty of time to sleep and run until her mind was empty. But when she returned to her room late in the morning, she found a note from Vaneshta saying they had a training exercise that night.
With a grumble, Iryana collapsed into her bed, pillow over her head to block out the light streaming in the windows, and fell into a fitful sleep.
It was late, but the sky still glowed a soft blue. It was the time of year when the daylight hours grew longer than the night.
Iryana was in her regular training clothes, minus the mismatched armor, standing with the rest of her team.
They all had warm cloaks wrapped around them.
She wasn’t the only one who looked a bit put out at having an assignment so soon.
She’d wondered how Vaneshta had talked their captain into allowing it, but he wasn’t even there. Probably didn’t care.
Vaneshta had brought them outside the fortress, onto the main street of the empty city.
It felt wrong to be there without a weapon, but she’d been told to leave them behind.
The guards on the wall watched over them; soldiers patrolled somewhere outside the city.
And the rest of the team could summon their forgings at a moment’s notice.
Her best guess was that they would be going on an evening run through the city streets. It would be harder than running the road right inside the fortress walls, which was kept mostly clear.
“We’re going to be returning to more difficult missions soon,” Vaneshta told them. Vabihn let out a whoop of excitement which she ignored. “So I thought it would be a good idea to do a bit of a team exercise.”
Iryana had a horrible feeling, only confirmed by the smirk that tilted Vaneshta’s thin lips. Was this because of her outburst the night before?
She looked around, hoping for a clue. The townhouses around them seemed to lean over the street, casting more shadows than they had a right to. The cracked windows and gaping doorways revealed the true darkness waiting inside.
“Iryana, you’re up first.”
Her whole body tensed. First for what?
Vaneshta raised a brow, holding out a strip of dark cloth.
Iryana stared at it as if the material would jump up and strangle her. But she needed to do this, needed to succeed, she reminded herself. And forced herself to step away from the others and approach her roommate. Her fingers hesitantly grasped the fabric.
“It’s a blindfold. Put it on,” Vaneshta ordered, crossing her arms.
She hesitated, looking at the others, but they seemed just as confused. Iryana had sparred hand to hand while blindfolded a few times—it was always a sloppy mess—but she doubted that was what Vaneshta had in mind. Unless this was a punishment and not a real exercise.
Iryana tied the blindfold around her head, not letting herself question it too much.
With the scratchy linen pressed against her cheeks and brow, the world was reduced to darkness.
A few speckles of light waved between the fibers from the torchlights.
Her breath instantly sounded louder, her heart thudding heavier in her chest. She clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to rip off the blindfold.
She was all but defenseless, armed with nothing but the small dagger in her belt.
Movement shuffled around her as Vaneshta whispered to the others and directed them. Iryana just stood there, her whole body tense and aware.
“We are going to navigate you through the city, and you have to trust us enough to listen.” Vaneshta’s voice was hard, but there was a hint of hope in it.
Her gut sank further. Trust. Couldn’t they have asked her to fight a dakya bare-handed instead?
Iryana shook away her doubts. One step at a time. She could do it.
“Walk forward,” Vaneshta ordered, her voice coming from behind Iryana’s left shoulder.
Her boots shifted, her heel dragging as she reluctantly took a step. The ground was uneven beneath her feet, the muddy road covered with debris and moss and other wildlife growing through the cracks.
Every order she followed was like trudging through deep snow.
“Turn to the right and duck your head, then take a few steps forward.” Vabihn sounded close now, off to her side.
She turned and took a first hesitant step forward, slowly bending her knees and ducking her head. The air in front of her felt cooler, the space darker. Was he leading her into a building?
When she hesitated, Vabihn urged her on.
She exhaled through her teeth, but obeyed. The top of her head bumped against something, not enough to hurt, but enough to send adrenaline coursing through her body.
They led her around, and then outside that building, down street after street, through some sort of park or overgrown garden. Every footfall felt like a mistake, like she was on the edge of a precipice and they were about to throw her off.
Vaneshta was trying to fix her. Trying to make her fit in the way she wanted. It was just like when she was a teenager, living in the main house. Hadima had ordered her around, dragged her around the family, trying to force her to get used to it. And what had that gotten them? Marisha was dead.
Somehow, Vaneshta could sense that Iryana didn’t fit with them. And she would push and push Iryana until that changed, or she broke. Just like Hadima.
“Go to the right,” Shahn said, sounding bored.