CHAPTER 10 RAYA
RAYA
One thing I’ve always admired about Akari is that she walks through life without fear.
To the point that, sometimes, she walks right up to the line.
But since she didn’t grow up in a wealthy family like I did, I can’t judge her for doing whatever it takes to survive.
Akari trades her magic because she has to, because outside the Academy, life costs money, and because the world didn’t leave her with much of a choice.
And for the most part, she does it responsibly.
She wouldn’t sell a spell that wasn’t legal, for instance, despite the inflated prices some of the more nefarious offerings can draw.
The weakening tonics, the bone dissolvers, the property breakers and destructive blasts .
. . there are plenty of forbidden Orange spells that Akari would never mess with—let alone entrust to a typic.
And while she’ll cast the occasional bespoke spell for enough silver, she mostly deals in pre-made talismans and charms, specific acts of magic encased in a crystal that her buyers can activate at will.
Need to do some heavy lifting? An endurance charm can keep you going all day.
Want to stop a piece of furniture from collapsing?
Use a support charm to help it stay stable and carry more weight.
Simple, harmless bits of magic that are cheap enough for any well-to-do typic to buy—and more importantly, untraceable once they leave Akari’s hand.
She always brings a small stash with her when she visits the physical realm.
Though she doesn’t usually do her selling here .
. . The Golden Stag isn’t just a seedy dump, it’s a seedy dump on the very worst street a Shade can visit.
Iron ore mixed into the flagstones, iron bars on the windows, iron spokes on either side of the door.
I have to hug the shadows just to reach it, and even once I’m safely inside, the lingering taste of metal is oppressive.
It’s not quite as hostile as the Church-owned taverns that bar us from entering altogether—nor has the owner invested in iron furnishings or ferrite-rimmed mugs—but it is the kind to make it plenty clear that Shades are not welcome to drink here.
The kind where—if I had my own stash of pre-spelled talismans—I’d be using a Red to glamour away the spiked rim in my eyes, maybe even add some flecks of gold to better blend in with the faithful.
The gilded pigment they imbibe is apparent in almost every one of these patrons, a mark of piety they wear in addition to the muted palette of clothes, their way of signaling to the world their hate of blood color.
What the hells was Akari thinking, coming here?
I keep my hood up and my head down as I weave through the restless crowd.
This is the exact opposite of a nice, faithless dive—though it is packed to the rafters, rich with mirth and song and just the faintest hint of violence, like an ember that’s about to ignite.
A crime waiting to happen to a typic, never mind a Shade, and it’s only once I reach the shadowy enclave at the back that I realize my mistake, the reason I’ve not been able to find Akari.
Unbelievable.
I curse as I spot the disheveled figure hunched over the table by the wall.
It’s always easier to see why the question I asked was wrong than to ask the right one in the first place, and once again, I gave the future an excuse to steer me off course.
Where will I need to go?
Now that I’ve broken my magic, I shouldn’t have assumed that my tried-and-tested tricks would work the same way they did before. I can no longer rely on the fates to behave in a predictable fashion. Instead of sending me to Akari, they sent me directly into the path of a condemned boy.
Unlike this morning, there’s no question it’s him—no blood, no bruises, no swelling to disguise the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the chiseled line of his jaw.
No wince to his movements when he downs the liquid in his glass then motions to the barmaid to bring him a couple more.
He’s been healed since he escaped the Academy.
Which either means that he was bold enough to solicit a Green himself, or brazen enough to send his Gold in search of one when every tracker in the city is out hunting Hues.
Hardly a discreet choice to be making, in any case.
I think I’m starting to see how he got himself caught.
Then go catch him. I will my feet forward.
This is exactly what Akari and I came out here to do, and while I never truly believed we’d manage it—I knew from the moment Akari floated the idea that an afternoon trading was likely her actual goal—the fates have now conspired to bring the Hue within my reach.
You can do this, Raya. It’s not the prospect of dooming him that has me hesitating, it’s the passive nature of my gift.
I’m not a fighter. I can’t subdue him or compel him or even torture him like an Orange, a Red, or a Blue.
The color running through my veins only allows me to see the future, and right at this moment, I can’t see a single reason for why he’d let me drag him back to the court.
Do it anyway. I set my shoulders and steel my resolve.
It doesn’t matter that my stomach is clenched sick with the iron or that this Hue has several inches on me, a whole lot of lean muscle, and an entire tavern he could sway to his cause.
He’s already experienced the cost of resisting a tracker, and if he’s here, drinking in plain sight—alone—then I’d venture he’s still plenty shaken after his close encounter with the law.
I don’t need an active power to catch him, I just need to convince him that surrender is the painless way to go.
That coming peacefully will make his inevitable end more bearable.
He’ll only believe it if you do. I affect an air of confidence as I slip into the seat across from him, making ready to unleash the threat that’ll persuade him to go.
But before I can so much as get a word in—or make clear who I am or what I’m here for—he looks up from his glass to say, “You’re not very discreet for a tracker,” and put me straight on the back foot.
“Erm . . . well . . . you’re not very clever for a Hue.” I try not to sound as unnerved as I suddenly feel. It’s one thing to think that I have him cornered, quite another to learn that he allowed that noose to tighten around his throat.
“Eh, with so many of you on the way, running seemed kind of pointless.” He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Though maybe I would have if I’d realized they were sending in the rookie first.”
“Who says I’m a rookie?”
“The robes you were wearing this morning.” His tone sharpens to a knife. “I remember you from the gallery at my trial. You looked away right before the good part.”
I hate that he noticed.
I hate that he remembered me.
I hate that he’s somehow leading this conversation.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do better next time. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my drink before we go.”
“I’m sorry, you’d like to—? What?” His request stammers me silent.
“Finish my drink,” the Hue says, slower this time, as though speaking to a child. “This place may not look like much, but the whiskey isn’t bad.”
“I still don’t—” I don’t understand. “You want to finish your drink and then you’re going to . . . come with me? Just like that?”
“Would you prefer it if I didn’t?”
“No, I—” Would prefer it if something about this conversation added up. “Okay, well then . . . fine—but make it quick,” I tell him, trying to take back control. Inexplicable or not, his refusal to fight does simplify things for me, even if it is making me wonder when the other shoe will drop.
“Don’t worry, the Gray will survive my existence until the cavalry gets here,” he mutters, swirling the amber liquid around his glass.
“Gods, you Shades are all the same, aren’t you?
So fucking married to your lie you can’t even imagine the truth anymore.
Maybe we should have just let it all end last year.
” He downs the rest of his whiskey in one. “Maybe the shadows deserve to die.”
The words turn my blood cold.
I see a vision about the shadows dying and less than a day later, the condemned Hue from that very vision is muttering about the death of the Gray? That can’t be a coincidence. And neither can the fact that he keeps implying that there are more of me on the way.
Oh . . . shit. I could slap myself for not catching it before.
This Hue is a Sapphire; his gift allows him to sense the presence of other Shades—I remember that much from the list Akari and I were studying.
That must be how he knew I was coming, and how he saw the Council’s actual contingent of trackers on the hunt for his head, assumed we were all part of the same unit.
Except I’m not part of the same unit, and the moment they arrive, I’m going to lose my chance to question him further.
Unless you both escape before they get here.
The voice in my mind is growing downright obscene.
Because helping him escape is a ludicrous idea, isn’t it?
It goes against everything I’ve been taught to believe.
He’s a Hue, a half breed, an unnatural perversion of good magic, and his capture—his death—is exactly what’s supposed to happen.
It’s the law.
And that law was designed to ensure the safety of every other Shade.
But my vision could also affect the safety of every other Shade, and if nothing else, I need to understand how all these disparate pieces are connected, uncover the bigger picture the future wants me to prevent.