5. Five
Five
Nox sat hunched over a text at a table littered with discarded books, the fingers of one hand buried in his white hair as he flipped through the pages.
If the empty teapot and a crumb-covered tray were any indication, he’d sequestered himself in the library for several hours.
Lucan stood nearby, dressed in the more formal uniform of Nox’s Guard and leaning against the fireplace surround as he stared into the lapping flames.
As Bryn and Nova approached, he strode with purpose to Nox’s side.
Nox stood and bowed politely.
“I’m pleased to see you’re feeling better,” he said, nodding at Bryn.
“Yes, Your Grace. You’ve been very kind.”
On the way downstairs, Nova had explained that Nox was the Noble Lord of Silvergard, and Lucan, the commander of his Guard and his most trusted advisor.
“What are you reading?” Nova asked, poking at the edge of a dusty tome so ancient it seemed on the verge of disintegrating before her eyes.
“I’ve been doing some research, and I think I may have a lead in the mystery of the blinding light.”
Nox spun the book on the smooth surface of the table to face her. Nova leaned forward, but her eyes snapped up to him immediately. Elegant characters looped gracefully across the page: a language she’d never seen before.
“Ancient Silvergardian,” he explained. “I believe what Lucan and I witnessed was the Light of Illora.”
“Illora?” Nova asked, running a fingertip over the strange script. “Like the star?”
“You know the legend, then.” Nox grinned. “I’d only ever heard of the Light in stories I was told as a child. If it truly exists, it’s incredibly rare.”
Nox tapped his finger on the illustration, a likeness of Illora being consumed by a flash of blinding light, eyes shut and face pointed toward the sky.
“I’m no expert in ancient Silvergardian, but I believe the inscription reads: Illora . . . offering herself . . . to the beings of the world.”
“What exactly does the Light of Illora do?” Lucan cut in.
“It’s a healing ability, in a sense,” Nox explained. “A kind of counterbalance to dark magic.”
“Are you suggesting a curse can be healed?” Nova asked.
“What is a curse but a malady of the spirit?” Nox countered. “Just as Illora cuts through the darkness of the night, legend says the Light of Illora can break curses and enchantments. Even sever bargains.”
Nova’s mind flashed back to the evening in the hazy, smoke-filled hall in Nivali when Liv—a seer—had gripped her hand, eyes glazing over as she glimpsed Nova’s future.
“Liv’s premonition,” she murmured.
Nova looked up to find the others staring at her.
“There was a seer in Nivali who had a premonition about me. She said, ‘You are the light that casts out the darkness.’ Perhaps this is what she meant.”
“Is there some unwritten rule that says seers have to talk in cryptic, horseshit riddles?” Lucan grumbled.
“Why is this ability so rare?” Bryn stepped forward, leaning in to examine the text.
“From what I can remember of my bedtime tales, the Light of Illora was only bestowed on females. I imagine it was considered too powerful a gift, and some of our ancestors—likely males—sought to purge it from the Noble bloodline.”
“Purge as in . . . kill all those who possessed the ability?” Nova ventured.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Nox replied, his expression somber. “Much of Silvergard’s history is inked in blood.”
“Speaking of murder and bloodshed.” Lucan glared as he braced his arms on the table, eyes narrowed and locked on Bryn. “We know Omen wants Nova dead. Tell us why.”
“He sees her as a threat,” Bryn replied, her calm exterior standing in contrast to Lucan’s increasingly chaotic energy.
“But why?” Lucan pressed, and Nova tried not to take offense.
“Omen believes he will die by his heir’s hand, just as he took his own father’s life.”
A chill rippled through Nova, her skin prickling with goose bumps in its wake. “My mother told me Omen refused to have children. Threatened to kill the youngling if she ever conceived. It’s the reason she fled when she realized she was carrying me.”
Nox stared at Nova across the table, wide-eyed. She’d never shared that with him.
“But how would I kill him?” she continued. “I thought Noble Fae couldn’t kill members of their own bloodline.”
“Omen possessed my mind for nearly a century. Unearthing my most deeply buried thoughts as easily as tilling soil. Plucking out what served him. But at times, whether he was careless or simply wished to frighten me, parts of him slipped through to me as well. He once showed me a vision. It was as if I was seeing through his eyes.”
Nova glanced at her uncle, who gave her a thin smile. He’d once used a similar tactic with her, visiting her in a dream.
“The vision was mostly flashes. Glimpses of the abuse he suffered. The terror he felt. His time in Sonnend and his growing love for a female courtier. His rage at learning she would wed another.
“I saw a desolate place with bare trees, bone white, jutting against the sky. Swarms of ravens, crowded on the bare branches, diving through the air—”
“The Bone Forest,” Nox interrupted. “An eerie place near our country estate on the northern peninsula of Silvergard. We rarely visited, but my father sent Omen there often. He seemed to like it, the time alone, training his ravens.”
Bryn continued, “Omen pledged his heart to an evil dwelling in that forest. The dark bond forged Kinslayer, a blade of black steel. The very blade that struck down his father and brother.
“When his love rejected him, he returned to the forest. Plunged Kinslayer into the ground, and a great quake trembled the earth. The Bone Forest broke away from Silvergard, and a fortress of obsidian rose up from below.”
The room was silent after Bryn finished. Nova glanced sideways at Nox, sorry the tale may have dredged up painful memories.
“It was the blade that let him kill his own blood,” Lucan concluded. “Where is it now?”
“He destroyed it. Broke the blade into several pieces and scattered them around Aemoria, vowing never to sire an heir. But after his wife vanished, a vague sense of unease needled him for centuries.”
“A vague sense of me, I suppose.” Nova rubbed her thumb over the smooth white stone of her mother’s ring.
“Yes. His awareness of you grew stronger when you arrived in Pyralis. He sent me there to track you,” Bryn explained.
“I trailed you to Nivali. To Silvergard. I was there the day you escaped Idrian’s grasp at Schadwen Mountain.
He was greatly displeased by the general’s failure.
I wonder if he’s realized his hold on me has been broken. ”
“What will he do when he does?” Lucan asked, amber eyes calculating.
“Replace me,” Bryn replied, her expression solemn. “I was his best tracker, but he has others.”
“Nox,” Nova began, turning to face her uncle. “It’s not safe for me here any longer. I must make haste for Nivali.”
“No. We can protect you,” Lucan insisted. “Nox has shielded the Estate.”
“Not well enough,” she replied, shooting a sheepish look at her uncle. “Sorry.”
“We’ll call up our soldiers from around the territory,” the commander continued. “You belong here. You belong with us.”
“No, she’s right,” Nox said. “She needs to be far from Silvergard when Omen discovers what has happened.”
Defeated, Lucan sank back against the sofa, draping his arm over Nox’s shoulder.
“When will you go?” he asked.
“I think it’s best if I leave as soon as possible.”
“I’ll take you,” Bryn offered. “We can fly.”
While Bryn ate another meal and attempted a few more hours of sleep, Nova returned to her chamber and changed into travel clothes: a simple shirt, tunic, and black breeches.
She sat before the vanity, her reflection fragmented in the mirror, which had been shattered in her struggle with Bryn, and wove her hair into a braid for the journey.
A rapid knock came at the door as she tied the end, and Lucan sauntered into the room. He tossed a leather pack at her and busied himself looking everywhere else but directly at her.
“Figured you might want to bring some of your things with you,” he said as he leaned against the wall, lightly kicking it with the heel of his boot. “What we have here is better than anything they’ve got in Nivali.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Nova set the bag on the bed and bit back a smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were going to miss me.”
He rolled his eyes but finally looked at her.
“Of course, I’ll miss you, you little shit.” His gaze fell to the floor.
“Is that any way to speak to a lady?” They both chuckled quietly, the laughter quickly trailing off into silence.
Lucan raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I don’t set the best example for caution and restraint, but I need you to promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I’ll be with Callan. Surely you trust him to look out for my well-being.”
Lucan rolled his eyes once more, but nodded, in the end.
“Do you know where Nox is?”
“You can find him in his garden when you’re ready to say your goodbyes.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder briefly before leaving her alone in her chamber.
Nova packed a few of her favorite items of clothing in the bag along with a hairbrush and a tiny bottle of jasmine perfume.
She left most of her things behind as a silent promise to herself that she would, one day, return.
Slinging the creased leather bag over her shoulder, she left her chamber and soon entered her uncle’s garden.
Nox stood at the base of the great magnolia, his back to the entrance. White moths floated in the air like falling petals beneath the night sky. Nova approached quietly, and Nox spoke into her mind before she reached his side.
“I know it’s for the best, but I don’t want you to go.”
“I wish I could stay, too,” she murmured.