Chapter 35
The Darkest Alley in all of Eiden
“Bladebreathers have not been employed for war in centuries. They are creatures of poor temper and rarer trust, far more dangerous and costly to sustain than their worth allows.”
— Urgent correspondence to King Xavian Steele
No one questioned me as I stormed out of the Silver Circle with no escort.
I yearned for girl time outside of these heavily political morning teas. I had never been one to seek comfort, but Amzee felt safe. Though maybe I was trying to fill the void Luna had left. I wasn’t sure anymore. But I also did not care enough to sit down and sort through those feelings. Not today.
Using only orb light and my limited knowledge of Eiden’s layout, I proudly turned down Violet Way. It was a notoriously lively part of town, popular for its nightlife. It was not yet late enough to be dangerous, but I wasn’t afraid of the dark or the scum that lingered in it, anyway.
They should fear me.
Darkness lurked under my skin. My mind was the true cage, cruel and relentless.
Down the lantern-lit street were breweries, taverns, brothels, nightclubs, and smoking lounges. Light Natured, Dark Natured, and Natureless all poured in and out of establishments, hopping from one place to the next.
A group of fashionable Stonesenders stood outside of a brick building. It might have been the one Amzee had landed on, but doubt fluttered in my chest. Zephy was nowhere in sight, and it could have been any of the ten other buildings that looked similar.
The Stonesenders stood in a circle as they smoked, passing the piece around while idly chatting. Red and violet lights flashed from inside the building as a couple staggered out of the door, hand in hand, shadows covering the man’s crotch. I tried not to stare, but what a weird way to hide a boner.
“Aye, lovebirds. Might as well shadow yer whole bodies, not just his prick, ya know?” one of the Stonesenders called out jokingly, his tone laced with familiarity.
The girl drunkenly giggled, stumbling down the street while gripping her stout partner's hand. He turned back with a wide smile, lifting his middle finger to the sky.
“If you wanna see mah dick so bad, come watch from the corner, Rockney, ya cucky blub!”
The Stonesenders all laughed, especially Rockney, shaking his head and coughing out puffs of smoke as the Nightcastor couple disappeared into the streets.
“Love that guy,” Rockney said, passing the smoke to a short girl with a mossy dress.
If I kept watching from a distance for any longer, they would be calling me the cucky blub next.
Amzee was either inside the building or not.
Best case, these people would know and I wouldn’t have to go searching for myself.
They seemed popular enough to recognize a woman who rides a winged creature.
Worst case, they ignore me, I fail to find Amzee, then go home and bang my head against the wall to the beat of Lady Fiera’s sobs.
I mustered up precious energy from my limited social reserve and approached the tipsy group of socializers the same as I would any other group of Stonesenders back in the Waywards.
Their voices quieted as I approached. The skin on my chest flared hot as each of their grey eyes shifted to me.
“Sorry to interrupt, I was just wondering if any of you have seen a particular Flamecastor tonight. Blonde, tall, chipper beyond reason. She rides a bladebreather.”
The tallest of them twisted his lips and rolled his eyes.
The girl with short brown hair, pebble-lined spectacles, and the mossy gown crossed her arms. “Rude to begin with her Nature. Maybe give us a name?”
I blinked as my face shifted with confusion. Rude? Was this considered rude?
Rockney looked down at me with glossy, drunken eyes and a silly grin.
“Fascinating accent… but were yer not taught manners? Not polite to describe someone by their Nature first. Kinda seems like ya think yer Flamecastor friend’s an object,” he said. The moon reflected off the shiny rocks beaded into his hair.
I swallowed, admittedly embarrassed and a little shocked. It had not dawned on me how unadapted I was to Castivian culture before this moment. I had even forgotten how rough my speech was in comparison to the lilted speech of most in the city.
Rockney’s accent was stronger than anyone I’d interacted with in the Silver Circle, but it was still Castivi, no doubt.
From what I could remember of the map Lady Jocelynn insisted I study, he was probably from up north in Iron Forge.
She’d mentioned how it was heavily populated by Stonesenders, and maybe that was far enough to create an accent shift.
My accent wasn’t the reason why they were peeved at me though, my words were.
I discreetly picked at the skin on my finger as I cleared my throat, praying my words would match my sincerity before I made the conversation worse.
“I’m Drakish, and where I come from, it does matter what your Nature is. I’m sorry for being offensive,” I said, heart thumping. “My friend’s name is Amzee. If you haven’t seen her, then I’ll be on my way.”
Back in Drakington, an apology coming from a Blackheart wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere, but this was Castivian. If I didn’t give myself a chance to change and grow, I would forever be stuck in the same caged mindset I had run from.
The girl with short hair tilted her chin up approvingly. “Ya, Amzee’s inside.”
I sighed in relief. That was all I needed to know.
After a quick thank you, I left them to their festivities and pulled open the heavy door.
The bar bustled with heavy drinking, heated card games, and drunken laughter. The air smelled of sweat and liquor. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dimly lit room, the glow of red and purple making it difficult to spot Amzee. I weaved through the cluster, dodging sloshing drinks.
Amzee sat in a dark corner, deck in her hand and coins laid out on the table for betting.
She was playing against Beck.
A slick smile spread across his face as I approached the circular high-top table. “Well, if it isn't my old friend from the wicked ‘Wards,” he drunkenly chuckled. He must have been working out and eating more since arriving in Castivian. He looked healthy and strong.
Amzee’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you know Elora, too?” She tapped the chair next to her for me to sit, so I did.
“Of course. She was on the ship with us. I was stuck with her in the ol’ obsidian prison before that. Almost died together once, actually, now that I recall… small world.” Beck laughed. He carried it all so well, the pain and baggage.
I was envious.
“We did not die,” I agreed, not quite as optimistically as him.
The guilt of rejecting Riven forced itself to the forefront of my mind, stinging worse than a Drakenhornet. My mind fed on that pain, longing for more.
The last time I’d been in a tavern with Beck, Luna had been there.
“Are you okay?” I heard Amzee’s voice, but I sat staring at the table.
No, I was not okay. But saying it felt risky, like they would think I was just craving attention. That was the last thing I wanted. What I desired was a future that wasn’t hollow. To sleep without dreading morning. I wanted to care about myself, but I had no idea how.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
Without a second thought, Beck slid his glass to me. “For you, immediately.”
“How can we help?” Amzee set down her cards.
If they thought I was worthy of such kindness, I must have been fooling them, because there was a cruel darkness inside of me. The real me could never deserve sympathy or affection. Sooner or later, they would see the truth of who I was deep down, and leave, just like everyone else.
Sweat pearled on my palms. I couldn’t keep up with the racing thoughts or the overstimulating sounds. I should have stayed home and gone to sleep.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Amzee said gently. “Do you know any card games?”
I grabbed the glass in front of me and shot the liquid back, embracing its burn. “I’d love to play if you don’t mind teaching me.”
Amzee got right to the instructions while Beck ordered more drinks.
As we played, Beck delighted in telling us about his future plans. Maybe it was to distract me, or maybe it was to distract himself.
He’d been taking full advantage of his Nature, lurking around enough to hear there might be a ship going back across the Sea of Blades soon.
A discreet trip to bring back refugees. There were already people getting out of the Northern and Western Waywards in small groups, thanks to the Rogue Drakers.
Beck explained that ever since he’d found out about the ship, he’d been trying to figure out how to sign up.
If Rogue Drakers could get people out, so could he.
“There are two different Waywards?” Amzee asked, sorting through her deck.
“Three,” I answered. “North, south, and west. I’ve heard south is alright, west is supposedly the worst.” Thinking about the people still stuck in the Waywards made the alcohol sour in my stomach.
“How do you know that?”
With the back-to-back questions Amzee had, I considered inviting her to Lady Jocelynn’s show.
Beck took over. “Because, love, we’d hear rumors from the Drakers, and we kept getting more work. Supposedly, the reason we got loads added on was because the people in the west ‘Wards had been dying out.” He slapped a card down onto the wobbly table.
Amzee cracked her neck. “Well, I’d love to come help again. Zephy, too, if they’ll allow him.”
I wanted to help as well, even if it meant crossing those sickly seas again. The possibility was unlikely, though, since I’d probably be in a wedding dress when the ship left the harbor.
“I’m sure they’ll take you, Amzee,” Beck said. “I don’t know about your bladebreather, though. You know how hesitant everyone is about them.”
Amzee’s lips straightened.