19 A Liar
A Liar
The guard on duty shot Vaelira a suspicious look when she slipped through the gate after dinner. She smiled, pulling her hood tight against the chill. She wasn’t technically breaking curfew, not yet anyway.
The moon hung like a scythe over the high walls, stark against an indigo sky, the last of the sun’s rays clinging to the ramparts in thin crimson lines. The few people in the streets kept their heads down. Rumours of more attacks had spread, and people were on edge.
Vaelira quickened her pace.
She wasn’t sure what to expect from Elijah tonight.
The last time they’d been at The Seven Squids they’d kissed.
She’d kissed a boy before, but it had been years ago, her training always taking priority over any advances that came her way.
She had never kissed a man though, and with Elijah it had been better than she’d imagined.
Yet somehow, it had fallen short. She had wanted it, wanted him, but she also wished it hadn’t happened. Especially after that afternoon.
He had come looking for her and been outraged when he didn’t find her obediently waiting like a dog for its master.
The switch up between that outrage and the flirtatious tone he’d taken when he’d needed something from her…
like he was playing another kind of game. Using his charm to get what he wanted.
And you fell for it.
The doors of the tavern creaked as she pushed them open.
Warm, thick air curled around her, heavy with ale and pipe smoke.
A few men shouted over cards, and she recognised some of them from previous trips to the tavern.
The smells, the faces, the firelight, it all tried to lull her into feeling safe, like creatures weren’t lurking in the shadows outside.
Elijah was in his usual spot, tucked in the far corner beside the fire.
His back was to the wall, his face shadowed by his drawn hood.
He tilted his head and shifted slightly when he saw her, but he remained seated.
She crossed the room, adjusting the sword at her hip, and took the seat opposite him.
The fire burned low in the grate. Elijah picked up a log and dropped it onto the embers. Flames licked up its side as the dry wood smoked, caught, and flared to life.
Vaelira glanced down at her bandaged hand, remembering the fire she’d summoned the night before, how it had danced along her skin as if in celebration.
When she looked up, Elijah was watching her. He didn’t say anything about the bandage, his face still half in shadow, the other half glowing gold with firelight.
“I’m not wearing a dress again,” she said flatly.
“No dress,” he said, smirking.
He pulled something from his pocket. It flashed gold, and her breath caught.
“I haven’t earned the Crest,” she said. Her voice came quieter than she’d meant it to. The pin was no ornament, and the way recruits talked, it was clear how revered it was. Guards like Erryn had bled for it. You didn’t hand it out so easily.
“Not officially,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers, “but if you ask me, you’re doing more for this city than half the Guard combined. It’s yours.” He paused. “At least when you’re with me.” He winked, but she didn’t smile.
His face shifted, the smirk giving way to something harder.
“We do what we must to achieve our goals. Don’t forget, we are doing this for the people, not our own pride.
” He slid the pin across the table. “This is just another way to get you into the Noble Quarter. Bribes work, but people talk. You look good in a dress, but you can’t carry a sword. This gets you through the gates.”
She saw the logic in it, but when she pinned it to her cloak, it felt like pinning on a lie. Like stepping into a skin that didn’t belong to her.
“Speaking of people talking,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “Has the Queen come to a decision yet?”
Elijah leaned back. “She hasn’t mentioned it, but she sees enemies everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already moved onto another unfortunate soul.”
Vaelira’s chest didn’t loosen at the words. “If she hasn’t?”
“I’ll handle it,” he said easily. “I’ve got eyes in the barracks. They’ve told me you’re improving. You’ll be fine.”
She frowned. “You’re having me watched?”
Elijah leaned forward, the grin returning. “Not like that,” he said, teeth flashing in the shadows. “Just so I know what she knows. That way, if you need help, I can step in.”
“I don’t need a handler.” Her voice was sharper than she’d meant, but she didn’t take it back.
Elijah held up both hands, feigning innocence. “I never said you did.”
He reached beneath his cloak again, this time taking out something small wrapped in thick cloth. He set it on the table between them. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” she said.
Elijah rolled his eyes. “Open it and you’ll find out.”
She peeled back the layers of cloth, carefully revealing a dagger unlike any she’d ever seen.
The hilt shimmered with polished gold filigree, etched in delicate patterns that spiralled like vines over the metal.
A carved ocean wave crowned the sheath, its crest frozen mid-crash, as though the sea itself had been stilled and gilded.
It pulled her thoughts home, to waves battering the cliffs near Anhaven, and she knew this had been made for her.
She glanced up. Elijah was watching her, his expression unreadable.
She looked away and drew the blade. It gleamed faintly in the tavern light, the edges deathly sharp.
Swirling lines ran the length of the steel, echoing the motion of the tide.
It was beautiful. Elegant, yet deadly. It made her chest ache.
“I can’t accept this,” she murmured, sheathing the blade without looking at him.
He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his tone was light, laced with confusion. “You needed a dagger. The Wastelander took your last one.”
“What will people say, seeing a recruit walking around with something like this?”
“That you have friends in high places? A wealthy admirer?’ he huffed a laugh. “Who cares?”
She eyed the dagger. With a gift like this, she might as well be the prince’s whore.
“Take it, Vaelira. You’ll never own a finer blade.”
“That’s the problem. Do you not know what they already call me in the barracks? Do you really think your visits have gone unnoticed? This will only fuel the rumours.”
“To the Abyss with their rumours. The other recruits aren’t even aware of what is going on in this city, and they don’t have your abilities. What does it matter what they say or think? You know who you are. You know the truth. That’s all the matters.”
She eyed the dagger. He was right, of course he was. Their false words were nothing compared to what they were facing.
She stood, strapping the dagger to her hip. It settled in place like it belonged there, but it didn’t, not really. It felt like she was replacing her brother, not his blade. How could something so beautiful make her feel so hollow?
Elijah stepped around the table, his movements smooth and deliberate.
He took her elbow and turned her gently to face him.
He towered over her, close enough that his scent, earthy and sweet, surrounded her.
She just needed a moment without him watching her.
A moment to feel this fully and move past it, but he just stood there expectantly.
A tear slipped free. Elijah brushed it back with his thumb. “We need to go,” he said softly.
She sucked in a breath, then followed him into the night.
Their patrol passed in silence. The Noble Quarter was quiet, the high walls and manicured streets giving no hint of unrest. Vaelira hadn’t exactly expected any action this far from New Town. Once, they paused at a sudden sound in a garden, but it was just a cat scrambling over a fence.
Elijah said little. She said less. His presence was steady beside her, but she made sure to keep some space between them. The dagger weighed heavily at her side.
She let out a sigh and was about to tell him she should be getting back, when the moonstone hummed to life at her hip. Ice slid down her spine, and a metallic taste coated her tongue.
“What is it?” Elijah said, stepping closer.
“I’m not sure.” She looked down the street, but she couldn’t see anyone. Or anything.
The moonstone flared again, and she turned on instinct, tilting her head at the door across the street. It was polished wood. Plain. No sign hung outside and no light shone behind the curtains. She took a step towards it, but Elijah clasped her arm, his fingers easily wrapping around her wrist.
“Talk to me,” he said, voice low.
“I can’t explain it,” she said, her eyes still on the door. “There’s something over there. The moonstone… it’s pulling me towards it.”
Elijah stepped around her, his eyes trained on the door. The moonstone pulsed again, hotter this time.
By the Abyss. The curtain moved.
“Did the—”
“Yes.”
Elijah spun on his heel and dragged Vaelira down the street, away from whatever lurked behind that door. She didn’t speak until they were two streets away.
“What do you think was behind there?” she said.
“You tell me.”
“I have no idea. The only other time the moonstone’s reacted like that is when I’ve been in danger. My best guess? Demons or summoners.”
“Keep your voice down,” he said, looking over his shoulder. The streets were empty, but he was right, she was speaking too loudly.
“We should have gone in,” she said, quieter this time.
“No, we shouldn’t. If there was a demon, we don’t have sunlight to fall back into if things go south. Better I check it out during the day.”
“On your own?”
He glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow, the mischievous glint back in his eyes. She wouldn’t fall for it this time.
“Take Erryn with you at least.”
“Worried about me, Vaelira?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned on her heel and continued down the street.