Chapter 38 #2
I head up the stairs, and—even though I can’t see him, his feet as silent as mine on the rough stone—I can feel Xan’s presence scorching my back. When we round the last bend and the door comes into view, I hold up my hand to get him to wait.
I open the door a fraction and peek out into the hallway, holding my breath as I scan the darkened corners where the light from the lamps doesn’t quite reach.
Satisfied that no one is lurking just out of sight, I dart down the hall.
As we near the kitchen door, I reach for the handle, but the sound of Raven’s deep voice on the other side has my blood turning to ice in my veins.
“Fuck.”
I spin and blindly grab what I think is the front of Xan’s tunic, tearing it some more in the process as I drag him into a nearby supply closet, closing the door soundlessly and enveloping us in darkness.
With his massive frame, the space is only just big enough for the two of us.
Our bodies brush with each rapid inhale I take, and I inch away, pressing my back to the wooden shelves.
The warmth of Xan’s breath tickles my ear again as he whispers, “How’s the plan going so far?”
I scowl even though it’s too dark for him to see, choosing not to respond. Pressing my ear to the wood of the door, I bite my lip when I hear a muffled shout and the pounding of running footsteps.
“Shit!” I hiss in frustration, running my fingers roughly through my hair. “We left the door open.”
“Then we should probably make a run for it.”
“Stay close.”
We abandon our hiding spot and rush back out to the hall. The door down to the dungeon is wide open, and I silently curse myself for being so careless.
I pause at the kitchen door, straining to hear anything beyond the thick wood. Another wrong move could mean death for us both. When nothing but the faint crackle of the hearth reaches me, I push the door open.
The kitchen is dimly lit, dominated by a large wooden table cluttered with knives, bowls, and half-prepared ingredients. Shelves line the walls, stacked with jars and sacks, while the smell of baking bread hangs heavy in the air.
Cook, a stout woman with flour-dusted hands, looks up sharply as I step inside.
Her gaze narrows, unfamiliar and suspicious.
“Sparrow left it by the door,” she says dismissively, her voice rough.
I remain silent, my eyes shifting to the heavy pack resting against the far wall, next to the narrow door that opens to the back alley.
Without waiting for her to press further, I rush over, hoisting the bag onto my shoulder and pushing through the door.
A quick glance over my shoulder is followed by a muttered, “Thanks,” before slipping outside.
I hold the door open just long enough to ensure Xan follows, then let it fall shut behind us as my eyes scan the shadowed alley.
“Xan?” I whisper, biting my bottom lip.
If he’s left…
“Don’t worry, little bird.” His voice is a rough whisper at my side. “I said I’d play along.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I lie. “Now let’s get out of here.”
I stalk through darkened alleyways, steering clear of popular paths in favor of lesser-traveled roads and bridges. By the time we make it onto Maricious, we haven’t crossed paths with anyone, but I know this will be the hardest part.
As expected, the streets are crowded, tycheroi from all over the Sorrows drawn in by the seduction and revelry of what the isle has to offer. And all of them stand between us and our destination.
The Muse.
“Still with me?”
“Yes,” Xan’s disembodied voice growls.
“Good.” I frown, pointing to where the Muse stands at the end of the street, just as a chorus of boisterous laughter sounds from the group of tycheroi lining up by the doors. “We need to go there.”
“This seems like one of the weaker parts of this plan.”
“It’s working out fine so far,” I snark back.
“Debatable.”
I roll my eyes, rise from my crouch, and set off at a casual pace, keeping my posture loose and plastering a smile on my face as we get closer. Just another person in search of a good time.
But as we near the end of the lineup, a shadow darts from a side alley, snatching my arm and dragging me into the darkness.
My body reacts without thought. Heart pounding in my chest, I twist free from the hold and lunge at my shadowy assailant.
But Xan beats me to it.
With a rabid growl, the figure is slammed into the wall—an invisible force pinning them against the stone. It’s only then that the light hits their face, and the tension rushes out of me with a rough exhale.
“Kash, what in Notos’s name are you doing?” I hiss, moving toward where Xan still has the nymphai restrained.
“Darling,” Kash drawls, although his voice is somewhat strained. “Care to put an end to…whatever the fuck is going on right now?”
A flicker of amusement flits through me, and I make a show of considering his words, crossing my arms and tapping a finger on my chin before relenting. “It’s okay, Xan. He’s a friend.”
Xan must hesitate, because Kash remains pinned to the wall a heartbeat longer.
But he visibly relaxes a moment later, straightening as his hand rubs at his throat, eyes darting around the space surrounding us.
When his search comes up empty, his aqua gaze lands on me, sparkling with amusement.
“I normally charge a small fortune for that kind of action.”
“Add it to my tab,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“If only you actually had one.” Kash sighs dramatically before his expression sobers. “Lark is here. I’m going to take you around the back.”
I nod and follow him down the alley, arching a brow over my shoulder when the back of my neck prickles with awareness I assume is from the palpable tension rolling off Xan in waves.
We reach the back of the building just as Calliope slips through the door, a bundle of clothing in her arms. Like Kash did a moment ago, she scans the alley before turning back to me with a questioning look.
“Pendant,” I say, holding out my hand in silent command.
The charmed necklace lands in my palm a moment later, and Xan reappears. In the darkness, his silver eyes shine like they’re reflecting the light of the moon. His hair shimmers despite the buildup of dirt, and I thank the gods its full shine must be dimmed by its currently unkempt state.
“Can you control that?” I ask.
“Control what?” Confusion lines his hushed response.
I frown and wave my hand at him while my mind tries to puzzle it out. Can someone’s magic be so powerful it’s visible on the outside? Even when bound with a nulling collar?
“You’re glowing.”
He glances down at his hands, and we both watch as his shine dims. His eyes flick back up to mine, and they no longer glow like they did a moment ago. “Better?”
I shrug, and he turns a narrowed gaze toward the others. Calliope passes the bundle of clothing to Xan after an assessing look. Without hesitation, he strips out of his torn clothes.
I avert my eyes, facing Calliope as she takes my hands in hers.
“It’s best you waste no more time. Your chances are better if you head straight for the dock now. Kash will take you to where a friend of mine is waiting nearby. He’ll be able to get you safely to the ship.”
There’s a strange distance to the tone of her voice that sets me on edge. “Have you seen something?”
“Many paths spread out before you, but I’m not sure which one you will follow. Even if I were, it’s best not to interfere with what fate has planned.”
I bite my lip and give her a quick nod. As much as her words unsettle me, my options are limited. I need to finish what I’ve started.
“Thank you, Calliope. I’ll come see you soon.”
“Good luck, my sweet anemone.” She gives my hands one last squeeze, a small smile on her face. “May fate favor you.”
The ferry Kash led us to drops us off at a lonely dock on the southernmost isle, Isola. The streets here are deathly silent; only the sound of the ocean permeates the air. The buildings are all asleep, their windows dark, the only light coming from the slowly brightening horizon.
A single vessel looms in the water, tethered to one of the dock posts and silhouetted against the lightening sky.
The ship isn’t as grand as The Nightingale, and I can’t make out a name scribed on its hull.
Most likely it belongs to a privateer and not a merchant.
Since they’re here to assist in my rescue mission, that makes the most sense.
The crew works efficiently, scarcely making a sound to break the isle’s silence. Like a choreographed dance, the tycheroi on board move in perfect harmony with one another. Their actions are so rehearsed and well-known, they have no need for commands.
With a sigh that feels as though it comes from the depths of my soul, I finally turn from the ship and force myself to peer up at Xan. He’s already watching me, silver eyes luminous in the predawn haze.
“I suppose this is goodbye,” I say with a small smile, ignoring the way my throat tightens at the thought. There is no rational reason I should feel anything other than relief at helping him escape the fate the Aviary had planned for him. Regardless, something close to jealousy sours my success.
“I don’t suppose you’ll finally tell me your name,” Xan says. “Or am I to forever say a little bird saved me?”
His words shock a laugh out of me.
“Ae—” I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. “It’s Aella.”
The same expression I saw the other day flickers across Xan’s face before his features clear. “Thank you, Aella.”
His words have a small blush of pride rising to my cheeks, and despite the dim light, I glance down to hide it.
I sense Xan watching me, his eyes intense, as though he can see my thoughts as clearly as if they were a play taking place onstage.
He places a hand on my shoulder, and every muscle in me tenses.
A strange sensation pulses through me, like a thousand tiny bolts of lightning striking my nerve endings.
I fight the urge to pull away, forcing myself to stay still, even as his thumb glides up the side of my throat to my jaw, tilting my face up to his.
For some reason, I don’t want him to see the cracks beneath the surface, the damage I carry.
“And I truly am sorry.” Regret stains Xan’s silver gaze as he says the words.
A sharp pinch at the base of my neck rips the rising questions from my lips and steals the breath from my lungs. Panic surges as I claw desperately at the fading threads of consciousness, every ounce of my strength focused on staying awake, on resisting the collapse.
But the edges of my vision continue to darken, and shapes blur and distort as shadows creep in.
It’s a losing battle.
I feel the vague sensation of being caught as my body goes limp, of words whispered in my ear.
Darkness embraces me like a long-lost lover, and his last words follow me into oblivion.
“You’ll forgive me one day.”