Chapter 3 #3
I didn’t have the time or breath to answer him. I snatched my coat, which still had the boat key inside, and leapt from the bar, sprinting toward the front door, where a crowd of people were standing idle.
“Move!” I screamed at them, just before all the air was smacked from my chest.
My momentum was abruptly halted, and I collided with an unseen force that shoved me on my backside. A wall of wind, catching me before I reached the door. I was staring up at the chandelier when the dice in my pocket began to burn, coming to life.
A face blocked my view of the lights, his wide hood a halo eclipsed by the gas lamps. The heat of the dice was almost unbearable, branding my skin with the mark of my mistake.
“You tried to sell me my own relics to make a few crowns?” His voice turned hoarse. “You lied to my face, pretending you had no idea what I was looking for, then led me straight into your little black-market trap.”
A weight settled over my throat, shutting my airway. Only a bloodline with an Archetype could control the elements so precisely.
But he was Cursed. People like him didn’t have Archetypes. They had essence in their blood, but not the codes to control it. That was why they stole from the bloodlines who did—and Opal’s didn’t serve such things. Even under the table.
“How?” I mouthed.
He ignored my question, flashing his canines with a sneer that sent both a chill through my spine and a fire beneath my skin. The pub was silent and frozen. I was alone in this fight, at the mercy of the outsider.
He knelt as he held me hostage in his focus. “You made an idiot of me, Nina. For a moment, I believed you were different. But you’re just like everyone else in this city. You’re only out here for yourself.” He offered his palm. “Now give me the dice, and I promise to make this quick.”
My jaw gaped, begging for air. He allowed me a strangled gasp just to prolong my suffering. I slipped my fingers into the pocket hiding his dice, feeling the magic inside one of them activate—the source of all the heat against my skin.
But… I knew that magic.
Just as I knew the kind in the bone this evening. It belonged to a Forge, the bloodline that shaped reality and the composing elements. Water, light, air, time, even the very force holding us to the ground right now. The same magic that had sucked the air from my chest and thrown me on my back.
This man was using the magic in the dice like he was from a bloodline of an Archetype—just like I had used the bone. And if he could do it…
“What are you doing?” His voice fell to a whisper as I siphoned from the dice myself.
I had no Archetype written into my bloodline, but I did have a gift that seemed similar to the one he was using on me.
If this outsider could pull magic from the dice relics, then he’d made a crucial mistake by showing me how they worked.
I used the magic against him, forcing the air into my chest, taking a satisfying breath while shoving away his compulsion. A flick of my thumb over a separate code on the dice, and I pulled from the magic inside, smirking at the bloodline I’d crossed.
Light.
The light itself was useless, but where there was light, there was its loyal shadow.
The weight of those dark pools was suddenly tangible, gathered in the corners of the room.
Behind the velvet drapes, the bodies standing around and watching us, the stretched silhouette of the chandelier on the ceiling.
I couldn’t do anything obvious—too many drunk gossips watching, and I couldn’t let anyone know of my abilities.
But there was a convenient shadow spread across me now, from where the outsider loomed over me.
I let it carefully slide higher, beckoning it upwards, until it retracted into the man’s form and slipped beneath his coat.
“Impossible,” the outsider growled, stepping back.
His hands clawed at his clothes, sensing the shadow tightening around his chest. He ripped open his jacket, thrashing inside the tailored sleeves to slip off the heavy material, exposing the darkness to the light as he writhed against the noose of shadow.
While he stripped, I scrambled to my feet and fled.
I lost touch on the dice, searching a different pocket of my coat for the key to the motor. The docks were dimly lit, with fog filtering the streetlamps, but I knew my way well enough in a drunken haze. Fear sharpened every detail in the world, slowed every second into an everlasting experience.
A gun went off four times.
Sharp pain lanced my shoulder. The end of the pier exploded into wooden splinters. Nearby boats took the other two impacts. I gritted my teeth to ignore the graze on my collar. Before he could land another—more accurate—shot, I leapt from the dock and into the unsteady riverboat.
In successive movements, I cut the mooring rope and prepped the boat to start, taking a single glance toward the tavern.
He was descending the brick steps leading to the docks in the canal, quickly reloading his gun. I had neither the time to study him further, nor the interest.
I twisted the key in the ignition, thanking every fabled divine when the engine purred to life.
“I’ll find you, Nina!” he shouted over the noise. “You can’t hide from me forever!”
He shot three more times while I made a sharp turn to head back to the Grand Canal, only ceasing his fire when I lay down hard on the throttle and sped off beneath the cover of night.
My heart was a hammer against my ribs, shaking the rest of my bones.
I could barely drive straight and was thankful the canals were quiet.
The ride home was a blur of lights from the city and the silver strips of moonlight glistening over the restless water.
I fell numb to the evening’s chill and the misty fog hanging over the canal. The dice in my pocket no longer burned now that I’d put distance between us, but I felt branded by his wrath all the same.
The dice… They were unlike any relic I’d discovered before. No wonder the beggars had died over them—they were priceless to the right buyer. The amount and variance of magic at the end of one’s fingertips… these artifacts weren’t mere props for a game.
They were weapons.
“Nina, are you alright?”
I blinked, realizing I’d parked the boat back at Matthieu’s. The ride back had been a complete blank as I’d dissociated from the danger I’d just fled.
“You’ve been sitting here for the last few minutes. Came to see if you needed help mooring.”
I only nodded, desperate to keep the memories of the night where they belonged—behind me. He tied the boat to their private dock. “I’m fine. Just been a long day. How’s your dad?”
“Resting, at last,” he said quietly, glancing up at a dark window.
“Good.” I exhaled the word on a deep sigh. “Look, I need you to cover the boat for a few days. Don’t take it out for any reason, understand?”
He looked back at me, confusion pinching his brows. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I got in a little trouble back at Opal’s, and I don’t know if they got a good look at the cruiser when I sped away. It’s best just to keep it out of sight for now. For everyone’s safety.”
“Nina—”
“I’m really sorry, Mattie. I need to go.” I pushed past him, heading to the cart and the mule still waiting obediently for my return.
“I don’t care about the boat, Nina. Are you okay? Do you need someone to escort you home?” He approached the cart, reaching for the reins, as if to take them from me. “You could always… stay with me.”
“You know I can’t stay.” I patted his fist, knowing his intentions were honest. But there was little Matthieu could do against my pursuer, and I couldn’t pull him into the cross fire. Not when someone else needed him. “I’ll be fine. Not my first time getting in trouble.”
His smile was forced, not reaching his eyes. “Won’t be your last, I’m sure.” Matthieu beckoned toward the gate. “Go on. I’ll let you through.”