Chapter 34
Graysen
The depth and extent of Sirro’s manipulations got swept aside by the emotions twisting beneath my flesh.
Nelle’s blistering outrage seared through me, her fury spitting wild and sharp.
And beneath that, beneath her, that eerie, ancient whispering rose louder, threading itself through my bones, a scaly insistence coiling around them and urging me toward her.
Tamer, the ominous part of me murmured.
I spun toward the doorway, unable to stop myself, though indecision dogged every step.
I’d been here too long.
Yet, I knew I had to let her go.
My stride turned purposeful, but a raspy, sleep-rough voice stopped me mid-step.“Gray… Where am I?”
“Mela?” I pivoted back, hurrying to her side as she blinked blearily. She slid a hand from beneath the blanket, and I gripped it, both of us holding tight.
“How am I alive?” she whispered, utterly bewildered.
I huffed a laugh. “A concoction of magic infused with Skalki’s Tears.”
And a drop of my blood—but I kept that to myself.
“How do you feel?”
She beamed, her glorious smile bright in the office’s dimness. Her nose crinkled as she considered it. “Exhausted…and yet oddly invigorated?”
Her eyes widened at the silvery strands vibrating in the room, suddenly realizing she was in the presence of two Horned Gods. And one she’d never spoken to before. She startled, fumbling to sit up, but I pressed a hand to her shoulder and urged, “Rest.”
She sank back into the pillow, flicking a nervous glance at Florin, her grip tightening anxiously around mine. “Where am I?”
Florin’s mouth curled downward as he scowled at her. His deep voice rumbled with menace. “Someplace I’d prefer you never remember.”
Mela swallowed hard.
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face as Florin produced a jar of wriggling grubs and plonked it onto the desk with a threatening thunk.
I gestured toward him. “This is the Purveyor of Rarities… A friend.”
“You’re friends with a Horned God?” Mela breathed in astonishment.
“It runs in his family,” Sirro said enigmatically, winking at me as he strode toward her.
Mela’s gaze snapped to his. I knew my best friend well enough to see her try to quell the sudden flash of rage and heartache before it could rise across her features. The blankets twitched, and I had an awful feeling she was reaching for the dagger strapped to her hip.
“Easy, Miss V?duva,” Sirro murmured, deadly power gathering around him. It seemed he understood exactly what quaked beneath her fractured loyalty. Perhaps recollecting what he’d ordered at the temple and how Mela had reacted to the Estlore slaughter. “You serve me and my kind.”
Our servitude to the Horned Gods was ingrained in all of us, and Mela was no exception.
She fought to raise a weapon against the masters we served, fighting against our very nature, and lost. A bitter breath escaped her as her taut body eased.
After a long, strained moment, she managed, and truly meant, “Master Sirro, you saved us all. Thank you.”
He inclined his head, shadows glancing off the wild mess of his hair. Angling himself toward me, his voice became all business. “Before you called me down here for Yezekael, I was at the Emporium.”
I stiffened, unease inching down my spine.
“It seems your aunt has returned from whatever business your family sent her on. She was there too.”
Sirro watched me closely, eyes narrowed and swimming with intrigue. Despite it all, I wasn’t about to tell him what she’d been doing these past weeks. But gods, I was shitting myself to learn she was at the Emporium.
He continued, resting a hand on the workbench, his sooty fingertips pressed against the edge of the downy blanket of feathers. “Your brothers were there, as well as the youngest Wychthorn.”
Every muscle in my body locked tight. “What were they doing with Nelle?”
“Your family is quite ruthless,” he purred, mouth twitching with a smile of approval. “Using Nelle to intimidate Byron and gain Jurgana’s attention.”
My knees weakened, threatening to buckle. Godsdamned Jett. Every time I asked what his plan was, he wouldn’t answer.
Understanding dawned like bleak morning light.
Oh gods…
This was why Nelle’s rage thundered beneath my skin.
And earlier, those shockwaves of fear, the spikes of terror…
I’d left her there to fend for herself. Against the Emporium. Against my cutthroat family. A noxious swell of guilt burned in my lungs, dragging my shoulders down.
My voice cracked. “Did they gain Jurgana’s interest?”
Sirro rapped the workbench in time with my stumbling heartbeat.
“Unfortunately, you’d called me away before I could find out.
I arrived with Jurgana’s sister, Mrysst—I thought your family might need help enticing a Goods Appraisal.
With Mrysst whispering in her sister’s ear about the delights of the Wychthorn princess, I’m sure Jurgana will demand one. ”
“Mrysst wanted to help us?”
Canting forward, he imparted slyly, “Though she’s extremely shy and keeps to herself, she’s rather fond of your father.”
My knees finally gave out, and I dropped onto the stool beside Mela with a heavy thunk.
What the fuck?
I blinked sluggishly, my mind awhirl. Who the hells were my parents?
“I had no idea Mrysst even knew my father.”
“It would seem both of your parents have kept secrets from each other.”
But something far more dire pressed in on me than my father’s secret or even my mother’s.
Nelle.
The words tripped from my mouth as panic clawed at my heart.
“I need to go. I need to get to the Emporium.” What the fuck was Jett doing with Nelle there?
How were my brothers planning to tempt Jurgana?
I knew there was more to it than the Witches Ball.
We needed Brangwene’s Hjarte—but that was something I could never say aloud, not with two Horned Gods present.
Nelle’s emotions were strung tight, her anger simmering hot beneath my skin.
At least she didn’t seem terrified.
She was simply fucked off.
I shoved to my feet and rounded toward Mela. “Do you think you can walk?” If not, I’d carry her.
Mela was already pushing the blanket away, black feathers ruffling as it slid off her. Swinging her long legs over the side of the table, she eased to her feet. Then swayed, pressing a hand to her head with a groan as she slumped against me. “Shit.”
I caught hold, steadying her before easing her down onto the stool. “You okay?”
“She needs more time to recuperate,” Florin interjected as he took a concerned step closer, a wriggling grub pinched between his fingers.
His entire demeanor shifted, turning intimidating as he loomed over Mela, casting her in a sinister shadow.
He snarled, “She’s not leaving without all her memories of my home being stripped from her mind. ”
Mela stared up at the Purveyor of Rarities towering above her, the blood-red eyes glowing like embers in the shadowy reaches of the office. “You want to extract all my memories of this place?”
“Yes,” Florin hissed, bowing his head and baring a mouthful of vicious teeth.
Mela gulped, shrinking. “How does it work?”
“You eat it. And hold in your mind everything to do with me and my home.”
She shot him a horrified look when he dropped the grub into her palm. “But it’s alive.”
“Yeah. And they taste fucking gross,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “You’ve had one before?”
I nodded, grinning and rocking back on my heels. “Yep.”
Sirro was busy fixing his shirt, rolling up a torn sleeve that gaped wide. “I suggest you go now, Graysen. I’ll take Miss V?duva home when she’s regained her bearings.”
“And lost her memories of this place,” Florin grumbled, capping the jar of remaining grubs and setting it back on the writing desk.
I blinked at Sirro. I wasn’t sure.
Neither was Mela.
“You have my word she’ll return safely home,” Sirro promised, a hand over his heart.
Mela weighed his offer intently before replying slowly, “There is…a matter I’m wondering if you might assist Miss Evelene Wychthorn with, Master Sirro.”
His brows lifted. “And how may I be of help?”
“Evelene wishes to tour the Pellan estate, the laboratories too, before her wedding day. Sometime soon, she was hoping… But Corné is refusing her. Repeatedly.”
Sirro practically spat with malice, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of Aldert’s sons.
” A gleam of spite shone in his gaze. “Well, I do rather enjoy surprise inspections. Keep the Pellans on their shifty toes. Though if she should accompany me, I couldn’t keep my eye on her the entire time.
And that family is rather…underhanded.” He regarded Mela thoughtfully, “She’d need guards. ”
“Additional ones to what her father would provide,” Mela shared.
My pulse kicked up.
Holy shit.
This was exactly what we needed.
Though Sirro’s voice softened, there was a heavier meaning within the tone. “I think perhaps the two of us should talk on the way back to your estate, Miss V?duva.”
“Yes, I think we should.”
She answered me, but her stare stayed fixed on Sirro before giving a confident nod. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow, Gray.”
“Tomorrow.”
Mela tore her gaze from Sirro and looked down at the writhing grub in her palm, pulling a disgusted face.
Taking a steadying breath, she pinched the slimy thing between her fingertips and lifted it toward her mouth.
The sight arrested my attention, narrowing everything down to that wriggling little creature.
As I sifted through my memories of being here with Nelle earlier today, I realized there were things I hadn’t asked Florin. Things he’d said, or reacted to, that had struck me as odd. And there were memories unearthed from my childhood that begged questions of their own.
Hymgild’s Memory Eater.
A flood of images flipped through my mind of being here at five years of age. An icky grub twisting in my palm. The tickly feel of it against my skin. The vile taste exploding across my tongue as I chewed the fucking gross thing. And then something my mother had asked Florin.
What was it?
It came back to me.
Have you used it on me?
What would you have to forget, little thief?
Nothing, I’m sure… I suppose I wouldn’t remember if you had used it or not.
I turned to Florin, catching his attention. I jutted my chin toward the office door, silently asking him to join me as I strode a few paces away from Mela and Sirro.
“My mother,” I murmured, tipping my head back to meet his gaze. “She’d taken one of these memory grubs, hadn’t she?”
A flash of admiration swept over Florin’s goat-like features. Perhaps he’d been waiting to see if my memories had returned fully. His great ram’s horns dipped forward in a solemn nod.
I leaned closer, scowling. “Did you force it on her?”
“No,” he said immediately, offended. “There was something she wanted to forget.”
“What?”
He pursed his mouth to the side as he gave it some thought. “I don’t know. She never shared it with me. But it was important, and whatever it was, it had plagued her for some time.”
I glanced sidelong at Sirro, wondering if he’d overheard. He was watching us, something unreadable sweeping across his expression before he turned back to Mela.
He was curious, too. Very curious about my mother.
“I can only assume,” Florin said quietly, stroking his chin with the tips of his talons. “It was something she didn’t want to remember. Or something she knew she couldn’t let anyone else discover.”
We shared a perplexed look.
What the hells could it have been?
He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever it is you need to do, good luck, Tamer.”
With that, he swiveled away and lumbered toward Mela.
Scooping up my swords leaning against a bird-clawed table, I launched forward, dashing out the open doorway into the darkness of the stairwell.
A memory of the Uzrek resurfaced.
Just before I’d barreled up this ancient, warded staircase with Mela dying in my arms, the creature had described it as—Signposts of a sort.
Signposts for what, exactly?
What the fuck did that even mean?
The thought got shoved aside as Nelle’s fiery anger thrummed through my veins like a rageful riff in a metal song.
I hit the end wall, rapped my knuckles three times, and the secret doorway creaked open slowly, too fucking slowly.
Then I was bolting through the Day Market and erupting through a side door into the city’s night air, sucking in cool breaths tainted with the smell of concrete, gasoline, and rotting garbage.
I hit the pavement hard. Wind whistled in my ears, tearing at my hair as my boots hammered the asphalt.
Panic scattered my thoughts as I wondered what to do, where to go.
As tempting as it was to use my new tamer ability, I hadn’t tested it, and I sure as fuck didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere if it failed.
My car was still parked outside the market, and I fumbled for the key stashed in my bandoleer, hearing the blip-blip before tossing my blades into the passenger seat as I slid inside and ignited the engine.
The metal beast vibrated with leashed power.
I slammed my foot down, and the car surged forward in a roar of furious energy.
Neon lights streaked past as I wove through the city as if it was my personal racetrack.
Dodging slow vehicles, streaking past the darker nightlife, the weaving drunks, dealers hawking infused drugs, prostitutes calling out for business.
As I headed toward the hills where the Emporium resided, I realized that something was wrong.
I reached for Nelle, diving mentally into the recesses of my very being, sifting through the darkness until I found the threads binding us together. She was a strand of moonlight guiding me through the pitch-black depths of my soul.
But something was off.
Our connection wasn’t getting stronger the closer I got to the Emporium.
It was pulling in another direction.
Fuck!
I hauled the steering wheel and yanked the handbrake, spinning into a hard 180, smoke billowing in thick, dirty clouds. Slamming my foot on the accelerator, I shifted gears like lightning.
Nelle was no longer at the Emporium.
But I knew exactly where she was heading.
Home.