Chapter 43 Neirin
NEIRIN
Nox met my gaze briefly as he drew near. To his credit, he took his discretion seriously, not offering even so much as a nod of acknowledgment as he passed us by at the market and continued toward the inn. The thrum of my heart sped up at seeing him, at the questions that would soon be answered.
With a departing kiss, I left Evera to gather necessities for our trip and speak with her brother and mentor. It was fair to expect that Aureus would be displeased, but I had no doubt Evera could manage him on her own. So with my back to the rising sun, I followed in the path of the huntsman.
At the base of the cliffs below, the waves crashed. A pressing unknown tugged at the back of my mind, stuck there like a thorn. The two huntsmen hired by Astraea had checked in with Maerel at the inn the night before. I’d not caught sight of them nor the messenger, Eaumond, since.
As long as I remained unwounded, Eaumond would not be able to use his abilities to seek me out. The Alidian’s senses fed off blood. Without it, the child would do the men little good. Yet if I stumbled upon them by chance, or if they remained at the inn … I pushed the thoughts away.
In all my years of training, I could rely on my observation skills.
Distractions were my only concern. That, and leaving Evera alone without Calix or myself to defend her while she spoke with her family.
I would need to teach her how to defend herself.
Still, she was cunning, and wit alone was a weapon that could be honed.
I entered the inn through the kitchen, sweat beading at the back of my neck as my nerves allowed the fox an opportunity, a window.
Though he scratched, the writhing did not come.
Could Evera have been correct in her assumptions that, in giving power to him freely, he would, in turn, fight for it less often?
I found Calix sitting with his back against the wall, spinning a coin between his legs with an absent look in his eyes.
Though I could have chided him for being neglectful when he’d claimed he would help Maerel with her busywork, there was a barrier still between us, and I didn’t wish to add to the divide.
“The huntsman Nox is here,” I said.
He looked up at me but gave no response.
“Are you prepared to leave?”
He nodded.
Setting my jaw, I wished for Evera’s easy way with the boy. She had connected with him and always knew what to say. She was like that with me as well.
“Calix,” I said as a thought came to me, “you can control your magic, to some level at least. Could you raise just a note of it to the surface? Not enough to darken your eyes.”
The boy drew his brows. “Now?”
“Yes.”
Lowering his gaze back to the coin, Calix’s chest rose and fell as he let out a breath. The hum in the air, the charge, did not come. Yet his eyes darkened, and from his chest a glow of light formed, faint but steady.
“Evera was right,” I said, the words leaving on a gasp. I could sense magic.
Calix turned his head to the side, puzzlement crooking his lips as his irises returned to their bold blue.
I flexed my fists at my sides. There would be time later to muse over the implications, the possibilities of this new ability.
“Stay out of sight,” I told Calix and crossed to the split doors.
Pushing them open a crack, I scanned what I could see of the inn’s main room. Nox sat at the bar, talking with Maerel as she poured him a drink. Otherwise, the large entry room remained empty, the hearth unlit.
“Stealth does not suit you,” Nox said, his voice raised a note.
I released a breath to steady myself and pushed the doors open to join Maerel behind the bar.
“It is not my strong suit,” I responded flatly.
“No.” His lips turned up in a friendly gesture. “It is not.”
“Timeliness is not yours,” I retorted. “A fortnight to the day.”
Setting his glass down, Nox patted the barstool beside his own, an easy smile broadening across his face. “Come, sit, I have a response for you. A letter from the King himself.”
My heart flipped. “The word is good?”
“That is for you to tell me, friend,” Nox said. He withdrew an ivory letter, sealed with red wax and embossed with the royal crest, from his jacket. “Another drink, please,” he said to Maerel as I skirted the bar to take a seat two down from the huntsman.
Taking note of my gesture, he laughed. “Do you always keep people at sword’s length?”
“What kept you? The trip should not have taken as long as it did.” I refused to give weight to his jeer.
“Life.” Nox held his hand out to Maerel, and she passed him the drink. Placing the letter atop it, he slid both across the bar to me. “The journey is short but beautiful this time of year. To rush would be to miss things.”
“To perform your task should be your priority.” I held the letter up and examined the seal.
The truth of my brother’s state hung within the parchment.
How he fared and if any new threats had been detected.
Perhaps, too, why more guards had not yet been sent to Elrune after Cyan’s death.
That, in itself, gave me hope. Perhaps Harlan had heard of how Cyan was killed, took my action as the penance for his ill deeds, and, having read my note, called off further searches.
It would explain, too, why the Queen sent huntsmen herself.
Nerves fluttered in my belly, and I set the letter down, taking a deep drink of the whiskey. It warmed my throat if nothing else.
“You have a shadow.”
I placed the glass on the bar top and drew my brows together, but before I could question Nox, the split doors opened and Calix set me with an apologetic look.
“Typically, he is prone to stealth,” I said, annoyance leaking into my tone. “Perhaps it is only that you are very perceptive.”
“And you are not?” Nox asked, a quirk to his lips.
I am. Normally.
Was I letting my unease hinder my observation skills? The thought displeased me, but I brushed it aside. It was unimportant. “Come, sit,” I told Calix.
He skirted the bar and took the barstool beside me, at my left, leaving the space between Nox and I.
A subtle hum in the air lifted the fine hairs on my arms. Too faint, I suspected, for anyone else to take note of.
Calix was troubled, but this was not the time to create a scene, and it had not been an excusable time since his last feed for him to slack in his restraint.
Casually, I slid my glass, still roughly a third full, to the boy to take the edge off, even as irritation prickled that I should have to worry over such a thing in this moment.
Calix took to the drink without hesitation. Huffing, I set my attention back on the letter.
“Do you recall what I said when you sought my services?” Nox asked.
“You say many things, huntsman,” I snapped, tearing the wax seal off the letter.
I hesitated, the feel of the paper beneath my fingers course.
It was unlike me to speak without thought, and my response had been sharper than necessary.
Yes, the man maddened me, but … I rubbed between my brows, a pressure building in my head.
“That is fair.” Nox turned and leaned against the bar top.
I blinked, clearing a fog from my mind. Again, anger swept through me. I slapped the letter down and flexed my fist. “Why pose a question and let it fall off?” I wanted to grab the man, shake him.
The energy in the air intensified, splitting my attention. Maerel stopped her task, though she kept her eyes cast down to the cup she held. Nox gave no notable response at all. Time felt … wrong, somehow. Slow, thick.
A dizzying hum filled my head.
“Dammit, Calix.” I spun on the boy, fury heating my blood.
Calix grabbed at his hair, then lowered his hands to his side. He stood, balling his fists. “Damn you, Neirin,” he countered and, with fair force for his scrawny form, struck me in the face with a closed fist.
Taken entirely off guard, I balked and brought my thumb to my lip, the metallic tang of my own blood foretelling a split lip. Had he just struck me? Had I imagined that? No, I didn’t. Snarling, I seethed and grasped the boy by the front of his shirt.
“Eaumond’s my friend.” Calix spat the words. “You could have helped him, helped all of them.” Tears welled, and he blinked, the white of his eyes bloodshot. He began to cry. “You could have helped all of them.”
“Neirin.” Maerel’s voice drew me back, and I spun to look at her. The movement was too quick, my vision blurred, and I firmed my jaw and narrowed my eyes, trying to keep focused. Was I drunk? No, I couldn’t be. Why was everything so delayed, so hazed?
“What is it?” I growled.
Why does everyone need something from me?
The innkeeper looked past me, and she nodded with her chin.
Why does she look so … defeated?
Turning in my seat to see where she gestured, I let the world catch up to me, slow in its spinning.
My hand still gripped Calix’s shirt. At the hall that led to the lower floor of rooms, the two huntsmen stood, Eaumond between them, his eyes black as coals.
It was not Calix, then, whose control had faltered.
“No!” Calix screamed.
Eaumond fell to the floor sideways, eyes wide and dark, void as he grasped at the slit in his own throat, crimson spewing. I gaped my lips to question what I saw.
“You did not say you would kill him,” Nox snarled.
I turned to him, nearly swaying from my seat this time at the rush of movement.
Kill him? He is dead? Of course he is, or dying at least. His throat has been slashed.
My head throbbed. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. With me.
“It was not my intention for anyone to get hurt,” Nox said.
Is he apologizing to me?
“And I did not expect you to pass your drink to the boy. I— I am deeply sorry for that.”
Moving more slowly this time, I turned my attention again and focused on the white of my knuckles where I clung to Calix’s shirt. Drink? The boy? Had he … What had Nox done to us? I released my grip, and Calix fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
“Calix—” My hands trembled, and I reached for the bar, needing to steady myself as everything moved both much too slowly and much too fast at the same time. At my feet, the form of the boy I’d come to love lay lifeless.
“When you solicited my help …” Nox said, his voice no longer behind me but directly to my left.
The touch of his hand as he took mine was warm, tingling almost. He slid a cool band on my index finger.
Mother’s ring. “I told you that my loyalty was dependent on honorable intent. Imagine my surprise when I learned of your ploy to kill the new King. Your own brother, Neirin. There is no honor in that, no forgiving that.”
“No, you are wrong—” The weight of my own head was nearly unbearable.
My arms, too, had become leaden. I gasped to fill my lungs with air.
Falling forward, I watched the floor grow closer until my head struck it.
I blinked, looking at Calix just as I had at Cyan when he had died.
But Calix looked so peaceful. Now that I was close, I could see that.
Like he was sleeping. Like when Evera lay with him, stroking his shoulder, humming.
“My family,” I mumbled, the words incoherent even to myself as my ears hummed, as darkness swept over me.