Chapter 15
Fifteen
We enter the apartment, breathless from our haste, Xavier having thrown his overcoat on Stryx so she could escape with her head covered to avoid any unwanted attention.
“He needs to die–”
“What in the Voyd did he mean about a curse?” I demand, interrupting Xavier as we talk over each other the moment the door shuts behind us. There’s a pause, then as one we turn to Stryx, the real priority making itself clear.
She shuffles her bare feet uncomfortably, staring at the floor, her previous defiance now dormant as she avoids eye contact.
“I—I’ll be up on the roof. I need some air,” she says in a small voice, her ears pressing back against her head.
I consider arguing, but I realise it may be best to have this conversation without her present, so I nod encouragingly before stepping forward to wrap my arms around her.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper into her hair, and her grip on me tightens before she pulls back and looks me in the eye.
“Don’t be,” she says firmly, her determination returning. “You are my friend and you were in danger. I’ll never regret helping you.”
“Xavier was right. I’ve been so blinded by trying to solve this case, trying to get my job back. It’s made me reckless, and now—”
“Stop. It is done. Mother Scath has decided my fate, now we shall see how the leaves fall.”
She walks out the door before I can question her cryptic statement, and I turn back to Xavier who stands staring at the door, like he can still see Stryx through it. He slowly turns back to me, but I make sure he doesn’t speak first.
“I will not tell you anything about her until you tell me what Riven meant back there,” I growl. “What has he done to you to make you hate him so? We’ve known each other for more than two decades and you’ve never mentioned him once.”
I try to hide the hurt from my voice, but it’s hard. We never hide our secrets from each other—Stryx being the only exception—but I’m already sensing this is something monumental he’s been hiding from me.
“He’s a murderer, Octavia, did that somehow escape your attention?” he snaps back, and I recoil slightly before I compose myself, grief flooding through me anew at the untimely death of my old friend.
“You clearly hated him before that. I saw the way you looked at him back at the Division. What did he do to you?”
Xavier lets out a heavy breath, running his hand through his dark hair.
“No more riddles,” I warn him, my voice edged like a blade. “What is going on between you?”
His expression flickers between weariness and resistance. For a heartbeat I think he might dodge the question again, but then his shoulders sag, a resigned look falling across his face.
“Years ago,” he begins, his voice quieter than usual, “my family crossed him. Don’t ask me how, he twists the truth until you can’t tell which way is up. But he marked us.”
From within his coat he draws out a locket I recognise, its silver tarnished, the chain broken. He sets it on the table between us gently, like one would a holy relic.
“My sister used to wear this,” he says.
I remember it swinging round Vesper’s neck when we would play together as teenagers, before she started to become more reclusive. It’s been more than a year now since I last saw her.
When Xavier’s eyes lift to mine they burn with such emotion my breath catches in my throat. “There’s a reason you’ve only seen Vesper a handful of times in recent years. You remember she used to laugh like sunlight? She had such huge ambitions. She’ll never get the chance to fulfill them.”
My throat tightens. “What happened?”
“What happened,” Xavier seethes through his teeth, “is that Riven cursed us. All of us. My family, my bloodline. He bound us with Hollow Blood.”
His words strike cold. I’ve heard whispers of this curse, but I never thought it was real.
“It slowly eats at us from the inside, like a festering rot,” Xavier continues, voice breaking.
“Subtle, patient. First it steals your warmth, your laughter. You forget what it means to care. Then it strips your body of strength, year by year, until you’re nothing but a husk.
My sister…she’s wasting away before my eyes.
I had this locket spelled, it helped keep her symptoms at bay for a while, but now she’s so far gone, she refuses to wear it and insists I do instead.
My father succumbed to it quickly, he couldn’t even feel love for his own children at the end.
My mother—” His jaw clenches. “My mother chose the river, rather than live like that.”
My chest constricts painfully, a lump forming in my throat.
It hasn’t escaped my attention that he’s been acting odd lately, increasingly more tired and indifferent.
I’d just always assumed it was the stress of the job.
But if he’s been living like this in silence, bearing the weight of it alone all these years…
It’s a wonder he’s even able to function at this point.
Guilt floods through me for not intervening as soon as I noticed the change in him. I know that hollowing feeling, that slow burn at the edges of myself. The way my own magic chews on my soul every time I overreach.
“It’s like what mortal magic does,” I murmur, and he nods sharply.
“Exactly. Except this isn’t a choice. We never asked for it. He has condemned us, one by one.” His jaw clenches as he looks away at the wall. “Because he’s evil. Always has been.”
I feel bile rise in my throat. “Riven truly did this? He did all that just…for the joy of it?”
“Yes.” Xavier leans close, his dark eyes hard as steel.
“He called it justice. Said my family had wronged him, that we deserved to suffer as we had made others suffer. But tell me, Octavia, what child deserves to have her joy stripped away? What father deserves to forget his love for his own children?”
The locket glimmers in the low firelight, accusing.
I swallow hard, the heat of rage building beneath my ribs. I think of the prisoners, of the blood spilled in the alleys of Aethermere, of Riven’s name whispered like a curse on every street. But this…this feels worse. This is monstrous.
“He’ll answer for it. We’ll make him answer for it.”
Xavier’s smile is thin and bitter, but I don’t miss the sudden glimmer in his eyes at my words. “Good. Because Riven’s reign of cruelty won’t end until someone tears it down.”
I frown, studying him. Those words ring too rehearsed for some reason, like a story told enough times that he’s begun to believe it himself. Despite my vengeful words, I think back to the look in Riven’s eyes, of the strange pity in his cryptic warning.
I must be losing my mind, but I cross my arms all the same. Xavier looks at me sharply, like he knows where my thoughts have wandered to. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to trust him? You don’t even know him. He’s messing with you, Octavia. He’s a psychopath.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I snap back. “I just—why didn’t you tell me this? Why hide it from me? I could’ve helped you.”
I don’t bother trying to hide my hurt this time, and silence presses heavily between us. Xavier’s mouth opens, then closes again. He turns away, staring into the dying firelight in the hearth. “Some things are better left buried,” he says finally, his voice a rasp.
I stare at his back, suspicion and sympathy tangling in my chest before I stamp down on it.
I’ve got no reason not to believe him. He’s my friend, and he’s right, I don’t know Riven.
What I have seen or heard of him so far has painted a disturbing, murderous picture, but his nonsensical, repeated warnings about fog still echo in my ears.
The fog doesn’t just blind, it hides.
No. Xavier’s right. I wrongly assumed Riven was trying to aid me for some reason I don’t understand, but it’s clear now he must be playing games with me.
I internally scold myself for falling prey to it, for letting myself get distracted.
The man is a murderer, and he needs to face the consequences.
I go to say as much, but Xavier whips his head back to me and I fall silent, anticipating his next words.
“So…” he starts, picking up the locket and slowly pacing over to stand in front of me with his eyes narrowed. “My turn. Do you care to explain why you’re harbouring an Irithys, before I decide to arrest both you and Riven today?”
I take a step back, shock coursing through me. “You know she’s an Irithys?”
“They are exceptionally rare, but yes, I recognise that form. I saw one once as a child,” he says quietly.
“I started to get suspicious the night you collapsed at the crime scene. The Irithys opened the door and when she saw you in my arms, her illusion flickered. I thought I was seeing things, but clearly not.”
I stiffen. “She has a name, you know,” I reply coldly, anxiety building at Xavier’s fierce expression.
I know his resentment for the Echofae runs deep, but he’s a good man, and my friend.
Surely he’ll side with me when he realises how much she means to me?
We’ve certainly had conflicting views in all our years by each other’s side, but nothing’s truly managed to come between us yet.
He huffs an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean. It’s against Division law. Against every principle we swore to uphold. If the Chief finds out—”
“She’ll be killed,” I snap, my voice cracking with the words.
I turn away, fists curling against my sides.
“I found her starving in an alley. Skin and bones. And yes, I know I should have dragged her to the Division, shackled her, handed her over like the law demands. But I couldn’t.
It felt…wrong.” I swallow hard, the memories pricking like paper cuts.
“Because it is wrong, Xavier. It’s all wrong. ”
His gaze softens, and the room stretches into silence, heavy with the weight of my confession. Then the faint creak of the door breaks it. Both our heads turn as Stryx pads into the room, still barefoot, her silver hair falling down into her face. Her eyes dart between us, uncertain.
I step towards her, my voice gentler now. “It’s all right. You can trust him,” I decide, hoping to the Gods I don’t regret those words.
Stryx hesitates, then draws a slow, shuddering breath.
Her shape ripples, her humanoid form sloughing away in tendrils of shimmering light as scales appear, glimmering like frost. Her tail unfurls with a whisper and the cramped apartment seems to shrink around her until she floats, revealed in her true form.
Xavier staggers back as though struck, his hand trembling as though he is touching divinity itself. His eyes shine with unshed tears, looking upon her with raw, unguarded awe. “By the Gods…” he whispers.
My breath catches and relief floods me. Despite our words thrown in anger, I see only the man I call my friend undone by wonder, and my heart lifts. Finally, someone sees her for what she is, like I do.
He reaches out a trembling hand, voice breaking with softness. “She’s…magnificent.”
A faint, relieved smile touches my lips. “I knew you’d understand.”
But Stryx’s eyes narrow and she draws back, away from his hand. The fine scales at her temples ripple, a flicker of unease running through her like a tremor. I notice her tension and place a reassuring hand on her clawed paws as she floats by my side.
“It’s all right,” I murmur, taking her wariness for nerves. “I told you, he’s on our side.”
Stryx’s eyes dart to me, but she says nothing. She only returns to watching Xavier, her gaze softer, but her haunches remain tense.
Xavier steps back with a smile, wiping the last trace of moisture from his eyes and drawing in a slow breath.
“No one can know,” he says firmly, his gaze flicking between Stryx and me.
“Not the Division. Not the council. Not a soul. If they find out what you’ve been hiding here…
” His jaw clenches. “I’ll help you keep her secret. But it has to stay between us.”
I feel my shoulders loosen, just a fraction. “Thank you,” I say earnestly, meaning it more than I expected. “I knew you’d see she isn’t a threat. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you with this sooner.”
Xavier doesn’t answer right away. His eyes linger on Stryx, unreadable, before he turns back to me. “It’s okay, I get why you didn’t. But our real problem right now is Riven.”
The name sours the air between us and my lips thin. “Do you think he’ll reveal her secret?”
He shakes his head firmly. “No. He’s not the sort to go ratting people out like that, he’s too clever. He’ll sit on this, try to think of a way to use it against us somehow.”
The thought is more than unsettling, but at least it means she’s safe for now. We’ve got enough on our plate without having to borrow tomorrow’s troubles. My thoughts wander back to my poor friend, still laying dead back in the Archives, and something occurs to me.
“The wardens said Starling’s in Riven’s pocket. If that’s true, then everything we do, every step we take, he’ll already know. Telling the Chief could put us in more danger, not less.”
Xavier’s eyes widen before he nods slowly, his expression grim.
“Riven’s built a web throughout the city, and if the Chief’s truly part of it, then he’s only one strand.
If we move against Riven openly, he’ll crush us before we’ve even made a dent.
Cyril isn’t the only victim of Riven’s wrath, I can assure you, and he won’t be the last.”
“So we play carefully, gather irrefutable proof against him,” I say, my voice sharp with resolve, though my stomach twists at the thought of allowing him to walk free without justice for Cyril’s murder, even if it is only temporary.
“We need evidence. Gather what we can, keep our heads down, and wait for the right moment. If he is as untouchable as they say, we’ll have to find the one thread that unravels him. Everyone has a weakness.”
Xavier smiles faintly in agreement, though it is a bitter thing, an acceptance we both begrudgingly share. “Then we’ll just have to be patient. Prove we are smarter than he is.”
I glance at Stryx, who floats silently in her draconic glow, still quietly wary of Xavier. I give her arm a reassuring squeeze and she shifts back into her humanoid form, wrapping her arms tight around herself.
“We’ll be careful,” I promise softly. “We have to be.”
But in the quiet that follows, I can’t shake the image of Riven’s piercing green eyes, the whisper of his warning still writhing in my ear.
Careful who you trust.
With my emotions recently running unchecked and now this…I start to wonder if maybe I am losing my mind after all.