Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
Ijerk back violently, and the light from the lantern explodes as my magic is released in a wave, glass scattering, plunging me into semi-darkness.
I stagger backward, heart pounding, and fall into a muscled pair of arms. A startled cry escapes me as the arms wrap around me tightly and a hand claps over my mouth, the other round my waist, holding me flush against a hard chest.
“Quiet,” a low voice murmurs against my ear. “It’s just me.”
The familiar and unmistakable scent of smoke and peppermint cuts through the cold.
Riven.
He came.
Relief crashes over me so quickly it’s dizzying. My body, all sharp edges of panic a moment ago, softens instinctively against him. The heat of his body seeps through my cloak, his breath brushing my temple.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers, though there’s no bite to it. His words tremble with something else entirely as he holds me close against him.
I nod, but neither of us move. The hand over my mouth slides away, slow and uncertain. I tilt my head just enough to see the faint outline of his face, his jaw shadowed, the faint rasp of stubble grazing my ear as he exhales. The air between us hums, charged and heavy.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to the space between us—the ruined lantern, the taste of dust and magic in the air, the steady drum of his pulse against me. I exhale a shaky breath and he tenses, his lips brushing my ear ever so slightly, sending a shudder down my spine.
“What did you see?” he murmurs against the shell of my ear.
Heat coils low in my stomach at the feeling and I press my thighs together instinctively, the slight movement causing him to inhale sharply. The tension between us is so palpable, I’m afraid to move even an inch, lest I break it. This is so wrong, it’s Riven for Gods’ sake, and yet–
A sharp scratching noise breaks the silence and Riven pulls back from me abruptly, the spell between us snapping so hard it jars me.
Panting slightly, he uses his magic to cast a ball of light, sending it hovering into the air above us, bathing us in a soft, blue glow.
I look up at his face and a delicious warmth flushes through me when I meet his dark, heated gaze.
I bite my lip and he sucks in a breath.
Fuck. I’m in so much trouble.
I clear my throat and look away, my eyes landing on Quill as he hovers over his parchment.
So that was the scratching sound.
Riven’s attention snaps to the feathered pen, his eyes widening, mouth falling open. “Is that…a Quill?”
I watch him with narrowed eyes. “You’ve never seen one before?”
He tilts his head as he looks at me deadpan. “Obviously I have. What I haven’t seen is one that writes its own damn notes.”
“Yes, he’s rather useful, though he’s a sarcastic little shit sometimes, always siding with Stryx over me,” I mutter, and Quill scribbles something down in response. We both lean over to read in the dim light.
You’re being a dick again.
Of course.
I huff. “Oh, go get another catchphrase will you?”
Riven’s eyes dart between me and Quill, his brows rising into his hairline as he watches our exchange. “How long have you had him?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Years, I don’t know.”
“And you never wondered why he has sentience?”
I shrug. “Well yeah, but it seemed rude to ask.”
“Octavia…” Riven runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily before pointing at Quill. “He is the reason I killed the librarian.”
I flinch at the memory. “You’re—you’re saying he had something to do with Quill?”
He nods, his jaw tensing as he studies the pen. “He was an alchemist. Yellow hair, remember? He worked with my father, he was responsible for all sorts of awful experiments on Echofae slaves, one of which was binding their souls to inanimate fucking objects.”
I look between him and Quill, my eyes widening in horror. “Cyril did that to him? That’s why you killed him?”
“What, did you think I just killed him for fun?”
“Well…yeah. Kind of,” I admit with a grimace.
He rubs his hands over his face in exasperation. “This isn’t the time or place for this. Tell me what happened when you were digging around in that seer’s memories.”
I gulp, the tension between us well and truly broken as panic starts to leach back into my veins. His eyes soften as he watches me, stepping forward to cup my cheek.
“Tell me.”
I swallow. “You won’t believe me.”
He breaks out into that infuriating smirk. “I doubt that.”
I turn away from his grasp and start pacing, pawing at my hood as I try to think of a way to tell him about my Shadow without sounding like I’m clinically insane…
Though the jury’s still out on that.
“How long have you seen him? The man in your head? Does he talk to you?”
I stop dead, my blood running cold as I slowly turn to face him. “You…you know?” I breathe.
He nods slowly. “The other day, you snapped at me, asked me why I kept looking over your shoulder…”
I gasp, clapping a hand over my mouth as I nearly lose control of my legs. “You can see him?”
“In a way, yes.”
I shake my head in denial. He can’t be real, he can’t. “I—I—No. It’s a condition I have—this can’t–”
This is officially too much.
He holds up a hand and I silence my rambling. “You’re not the only one who was part of a failed ritual, Octavia.”
My mind spins, my ears ringing. “What are you saying?”
“We were both used as potential vessels for the Faceless God,” he says softly, like he’s trying not to spook me.
“Rituals were performed on all of us, including those dead seers I assume, in an attempt to break the God free of the Veil, and each time it failed. But, a tiny part managed to get through each time, lingering with all of us.”
I shake my head, furious. “No. No. You can’t be serious–”
“I am,” he says firmly. “A part of him lives within you. Within everyone in this room. I think those seers were trial runs of a sort. If the ritual were to succeed, and someone became the true vessel for the Faceless God to live amongst us once again, it would put everyone in this city in jeopardy.”
That’s what my father tried to do to me? That’s what he thought the prophecy was for? I shiver, nausea roiling in my gut. But if Riven was subjected to this too, then that means–
“Riven, do you know about the prophecy?”
He pauses. “I can’t answer that.”
So that’s a yes then. If he didn’t then he would have denied it, or stood there looking confused.
Since he’s currently doing neither, that only leaves one option.
Though yet again, for what feels like the thousandth time, he’s confirmed a question without a direct answer.
In the short time that I’ve known him, it’s been one of the most frustrating things about him, but now I think of it…
it’s too much of a coincidence to just be a habit.
A troubling thought occurs to me.
“Riven, is there something physically stopping you from answering me?”
He pauses again, his face draining of colour. “I—I can’t answer that either.”
I release a sharp exhale. “Someone’s stopping you from–”
“Stop. Octavia. Please.”
He takes a step back as I move towards him.
“So that’s why you left the notes? You’ve been goading me into this case in the hope I would learn everything for myself, giving me clues without directly telling me?”
“You have to stop–” He cuts off abruptly, his eyes growing bloodshot, choking like he can’t–
Fuck.
He can’t breathe.