Chapter 32
Gods, it’s fucking cold.
I sit shivering in my cloak despite it being lined in thick fur. Even though my scarf covers half my face, I’m absolutely freezing from the biting wind, waiting for Ren to start a fire.
Too frightened to use my magic for fear of being caught wielding more power, I suffer in silence. Although we’ve traveled farther south, it’s still unbearable this time of year in the dead of winter.
It’s been three and a half days, meaning we should be arriving in Nymara tomorrow afternoon and leaving us one more night to camp before arriving in the city close to the Aurelian border.
We stopped in little towns along the way, long enough for the horses to be watered and given fresh hay, only staying in one of those towns to sleep.
The rest of our time has been spent camping. I shiver again.
Ren briefly discussed our mission, something that’s a little different than our previous ones. Instead of killing this target, we’re to bring him back to the castle unharmed, which I find odd.
We’re to break into the home—where I come in—and bring him back in one piece. I assume he’ll be bound and gagged by Ren, as it’s his specialty because he’s a ruthless ass. I’ll just leave him to do that part by himself.
“It’s not that cold out,” he grumbles behind me, grabbing logs for the fire and throwing them on the pile in front of us. He finally lights it, and I let out an incredibly loud, exaggerated sigh, pulling my scarf off my face to bathe in the heat.
I throw him a glance and scoff. “Sorry, I don’t have a beard on my face to keep me warm.”
A short beard, but a beard nonetheless. He throws a rabbit at my feet, blood coating its white fur.
Although I’m exceptional at hunting, occasionally going with Ezra, it’s not my specialty.
I have no desire to go tromping around the forest, leaving Ren to do that.
Not that I can’t do it, I’d just rather not waste my energy.
Plus, he has no problem leaving me alone in the cold while he does it, voicing that he doesn’t want to hear me complain about it. He’s better at tracking anyway.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
My hands work the pelt as I skin it from its feet to its neck. Ren tosses me his kill with a devious grin, silently asking if I can skin his rabbit as well. His grin widens when I glare, but I can’t say no, not after he found us a meal, so I just huff and skin his next.
After finishing, he shoves a sharp stick through the length of his rabbit and holds out his hand, urging me to hand him mine so it can cook over the fire.
Ren has been surprisingly decent, mostly remaining silent during our travels. Or perhaps I’m just too cold to throw him any snide remarks. No sign of the mean brute I usually see.
After placing the rabbits above the fire, Ren pulls out his knife and carves into a block of wood like he did in the valley. Only this time, it looks like he’s about halfway done carving a fox. I sit across from him, bundled in my cloak.
“Why am I here again?” I ask.
He lifts his brows. “I already told you, the king wanted to use your skills.”
“I don’t believe that.” I squint my eyes, smoke clouding my vision as I lean against a tree. “Luke is just as exceptional at disguise and infiltration—he could have used him instead, or you could have just gone alone.”
Luke is exceptional, if not more talented than I am, yet I was sent here with Ren, who hates me instead. So although it could be a believable story, I don’t believe for one second that I was King Elion’s or Ren’s first choice. Not after these last few weeks of not having any missions.
“I just find it odd that I’m back on the list for missions when it was clear I was being punished. What changed?”
He huffs a sigh and stops carving, like I’ve already annoyed him with my observation. He forgets that I’m in the brotherhood. I’m exceptionally skilled at everything.
“Fine, do you really want to know?” he grunts.
“Well, that’s why I’m asking.”
He looks off to the side as if he’s too afraid of my reaction to meet my gaze. “I was supposed to bring Luke, but he’s a prick and he never shuts up. For the most part, you keep to yourself and are far better company than he is,” he mumbles as if he can’t stop himself from the confession.
I blink in stunned silence for a moment, trying to decipher if he’s messing with me or not. A few seconds go by when he begins carving again, not waiting for me to respond. I realize that he’s probably telling the truth.
Then I smirk at the thought that crosses my mind—the horrible idea I just had, causing me to chuckle as something sinister forms in my chest.
“Is that a challenge?” I tilt my head, forcing him to lift his gaze at my tone. He just admitted that I’m better than Luke, telling me that I haven’t been unbearable enough this trip.
“Isa,” he warns, brows lowering.
He knows that look—we all share it—but I can’t help myself. In an instant, I’m flipping a dagger in my hand, catching it by the tip, when he suddenly stands, mirroring me over the fire. A vicious grin pulls at my lips as I hone in on my training.
“Isa, don’t…” he growls.
Aiming for his head, I barely miss him when he jolts to the side, landing in the tree behind him with a low thud. He whips his head back around with narrowed eyes.
“I give you a compliment, and your response is to throw a dagger at my face?” He sits again.
“What can I say? I love a challenge.” I cross my arms with grin and a shrug, sitting back down.
“You missed. I taught you better than that. You should’ve hit me.” He scoffs, insulting my aim, then grabs the rabbits off the fire with a hard yank.
“You did teach me better than that. If I wanted to hit you, I would have,” I bite back with a tight smile, snatching the rabbit from him.
I ignore the fact that I just confessed that I didn’t plan on hitting him. I just wanted to make a point: don’t get too comfortable around me. After a few minutes, I catch the faintest of grins pulling at his mouth before he hides it, silently finishing the fox carving in his hands.
Shortly after eating, I find myself entering my tent, bidding Ren a good night, which results in a few inaudible mumbles. With my body secure under my thick quilt, cloak and all, I rest on the pack beneath me.
Over the last three nights, Rydian has consistently met me in the Veil while we slept. But the farther we travel apart, the more the connection falters, stretched thin by our distance across the realm.
When we do find each other, it’s as if the world stops for a few minutes with the way his hands brush my face before his lips meet mine, like he’s afraid to let me go. Then it flickers out, leaving me feeling cold and empty in the middle of a tent.
Now, as my head rests on my pack, I begin to feel Rydian the moment I drift off to sleep, as if he’s been waiting for me in the Veil all night.
We arrived in Nymara earlier this afternoon.
All morning, Ren kept stealing glances at me like he was trying to solve a complex problem, probably due to the dagger I threw at his head last night. I just ignored him, hoping to complete this mission and head back.
Since we’ll be breaking into someone’s home, we know we won’t be needing an inn tonight—let alone rest—so we set up our horses outside the city. Getting our target back to Nymara is going to be… challenging. We’ve never had to bring someone back to the castle before.
We learned our target’s name—Theo—after reading through our missive, mentioning that he went by the nickname Smudge around the local metal forges. So that’s what we did earlier: spent the day questioning locals to track him down. Eventually, we ended up at a forgery near the docks.
When we arrived, only the owner was there, and we quickly realized that Theo had already left. Ren took it upon himself to distract the owner, and without a word between us, I slipped past them and found Theo’s workspace, stealing a pair of his gloves.
Tracking him by scent proved to be more difficult than we thought with the ocean nearby, as it gives off an intense fishy aroma. It’s midnight now as we head into the city—my hand tightly gripping the glove marked with his nickname on the edge of the leather.
Nymara is set up on cobblestone, greeted by large towers that extend for miles before reaching the outskirts of the city. Built near the water, the salt from the ocean drifts by on a breeze as the waves crash in the distance.
We finally reach the edge of the neighborhood, where homes climb the hills in narrow rows, stacked side by side and sloping away from the ocean. Thankfully, streetlamps are out for the night, allowing us to remain hidden in the shadows.
With a quick glance around and no words spoken between us, we pull our hoods up. My mask covers my nose, shielding me from the cold bite of the wind as our feet pull us toward Theo’s home. Ren nudges me, nodding at the lone house on the corner.
On silent feet, we approach Theo’s home. Ren quietly lingers behind me as the crescent moon casts a dim glow, just enough for me to find a way in. With a quick inspection, I find the home warded with three protection runes.
My palms press onto the wooden door, eyes closed and tuning into the energy.
The runes are simple—easy to counter. I quickly etch a sigil onto the frame, stepping back as it glows briefly before the others begin to fade.
With my hand on the knob, I twist and gently ease it open on a soft creak, pivoting to find Ren inches from my back. I jolt, not having sensed him there.
“How do you do that?” I whisper, eyes narrowing over my mask. Ren ignores me with a blank stare, swiftly motioning for us to split, and I go left. My adrenaline pumps, but I force my breathing to slow as I take calculated steps inside the home.
My eyes land on the shoes and clothes scattered near the windows before darting them from door to door and quietly striding down the hall. It smells like a bakery.