Chapter 13
Alaris reaches into his pocket and pulls out the voidstone. I get a better look at it in the daylight, noting the delicate etchings are silver stars connected into constellations. He slashes it down, and a seam of darkness splits the air.
“Follow me,” he says and steps through.
I need this job. I bite my lip and walk straight at the portal with my fists squeezed tight. Darkness closes around me and I get swept up in weightless wind, but it’s brief this time. My stomach lurches, and then my boots hit solid ground.
I’ve landed inside a round stone building. The air is cold and smells of damp wood, animal, and dust.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Just across the grounds. I can’t be seen wandering about.”
The space is open, with a round basin in the center, a bench, and an assortment of tools lining the walls.
And a ladder. I let my eyes follow it up into the rafters.
Tiers of wooden beams climb toward the point of a turret.
Light comes through open shutters high above.
It takes me a moment to separate the shapes from the shadows.
Hawks. Black ones. More than I can count, their talons clicking and scraping against wood perches.
If not for the light reflecting off their eyes, and the shift of their wings, they would blend in with the shadows entirely. One lets out a sharp cry, and the sound bounces off the stone walls and pierces straight through me.
“These are my messengers,” Alaris says. “And my beloved pets.”
I blink up at the inky birds. “Are hawks typically used for messages? I’ve only seen doves and ravens.”
He smiles. “These hawks were specially bred by the first lords of night. They are unique.”
I don’t have time to ask my next question before one of them drops from the rafters, swooping so close its wing brushes my cheek. I yelp and jump.
“I realize caring for birds might not be what you had in mind in terms of work.” His light tone is maddening. Of course he knows it’s not what I had in mind. “Not everyone has an appetite for handling predators. I can check with my steward about other open positions—”
“No!” I say quickly. “No, this job will be fine.” I learned on the river how many people need work, compared to the number of houses that have it.
“You’re sure?” he asks, cocking his head. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
I cross my arms. I am uncomfortable around animals, but until recently I’d never run away, lived on a boat, or taken care of children either. So I lie. “I actually love birds.”
“Do you?” he asks, a smile that unsettles me spreading across his face.
Another bird swoops by, and I swallow my shriek. Another follows, then another, a flurry of dark shapes cutting through the air around me.
This is a test.
My heart pounds at the flash of their curved talons, their sharp beaks. Any movement, and they’ll slice my skin, whether they mean to or not.
But I’m used to tests, from the emperor, my mother, my siblings.
I hold myself still. Talons can’t hurt more than fire.
And it’s even easier now that I’ve experienced the chill of death creeping up on me.
I remember waking up gasping for breath.
I remember blood streaming down my front, pain like I’ve never experienced blossoming at the end of a blade, or arrow, or rope…
I know what real fear feels like now. The threat of a talon can’t compare.
I steel myself and lift my chin, staring through the storm of feathers, as hawks dive and ruffle my hair and my clothes. I keep my feet planted, my hands steady at my sides, meeting Alaris’s gaze as it appears and disappears through the wings.
His eyebrows arch.
Then the hawks peel away, the midnight flock dispersing. All at once, they retreat to the rafters, leaving only a few dark feathers floating down.
“Maybe you do like birds. A rare bit of truth from my newest employee. Then you’ll start tomorrow.”
Not a hair on that infuriatingly gorgeous head is out of place. Meanwhile, I feel like I’ve dropped to the ground and rolled through the feathers.
But I bite back any retort. He watches me as I exhale slowly.
“Something to say?”
“Not at all, my lord.” I grit my teeth.
“Are you sure? It looks like you’re hurting your jaw.”
He seems to enjoy needling me. But I just got the job, and I’ve already made myself too difficult. No lord likes a handful. So I smooth my face and fall into myself even further. “Just wondering how I can learn about the details of their care.”
He pauses a second, like he wants to challenge my sudden obedience. But he doesn’t. “Their previous keeper will show you. He’s been splitting his responsibilities. I’ll ask him to meet you tomorrow morning and show you everything.” His eyes travel me briefly. “Come.”
The stone is in his hand again. He swings it, scratching lightning through the air, and beckons me.
I step into gaping darkness. After a moment suspended in the void, I appear back in the bedroom.
The tray is still on the table, murkfruit stains and scattered black salt all that remains from my meal. My bag is on the floor where I dropped it.
I sway. Maybe it’s my third trip through the gate, or maybe it’s just the day catching up to me. My eyelids droop, and I have to lock my knees to stay upright.
He steps out after me. “I must return to my carriage now to maintain appearances. Remember”—he wags the stone once, then puts it in his pocket—“no mention that you’ve seen me. I’ll inform my steward that I invited you by letter.”
I nod and collect my bag off the floor. “Where do the servants stay?”
“Here will be fine. This suite is unoccupied.”
“It’s far too grand for a servant.” My comment is true, but the mismatch between my rank and the room isn’t really the source of my complaint.
My problem is that it’s too big. With a balcony, a large bed, a bathing room, a wardrobe, and corners the firelight can’t reach, there are too many places for someone unseen to lie in wait.
“I believe the servants’ wing is full,” he says. “Besides, this room is close to the back of the castle. Much more convenient to get to the hawks.”
I consider pushing further, but I don’t have the energy. I let out a slow breath. How is it possible I’m still so tired, after sleeping for an entire day and night?
“Alright,” I say. “For tonight.”
“Good. Someone will knock to wake you tomorrow.”
“A nice change of pace,” I mumble.
His mouth twitches up. “I won’t officially be back for two weeks, but I’ll check in and see how you and the hawks are getting on.”
“Don’t you worry about me and the birds,” I say, sleepiness taking the edge off my bravado. My eyes narrow. “Isn’t two weeks too fast for a carriage to travel from Delvos to Arastos?”
“I’ll leave my carriage behind and ride part of the way.
I’m well known to have the fastest horse in all nine provinces.
It helps explain my incredible pace of travel.
” He takes a few steps toward me, peels the bag off my shoulder with gentle fingers, and hangs it on the back of a chair.
“Now go to bed. I can see the gate took its toll.”
I press my lips together, hating that I’m letting it show. But my eyes feel swollen, like they’ll shut without my permission at any second.
I nod.
He slashes the stone through the air and disappears.
Still getting used to that.
Once again, I don’t bother taking off my dress before I collapse on the bed.
I wonder if the stone is precise enough to let Alaris appear directly in his carriage.
He’s gone back and forth across the continent twice, and he navigated within the castle grounds just as easily. It’s an incredible power.
My eyes fly wide. I sit up.
It’s a perfect means of escape.
I didn’t get my prophecy. Without proof the masked man is out there or advance knowledge of his attack, my only option is to keep running. Wherever I stay, I’m counting down the hours until he finds me.
But if I had the voidstone, a few seconds of warning would be enough. I could open a portal, step through, and vanish, leaving no trail for him to follow.
I wouldn’t need to know when he’s coming or make anyone else believe he’s real. I could go home again.
The scandalous Sovereign of Arastos uses his family heirloom to flit about the continent, attending parties. For me, the voidstone would mean survival.
He won’t just give it to me.
I’ll have to steal it.
I clench my fists. The cut on my finger, half-closed from the lavender, splits open.
I’ve never stolen anything in my life. But then, a few weeks ago I didn’t imagine myself capable of running from the palace either. There was nothing that prepared me for bargaining on the river or lying my way to becoming a governess.
Blood wells in the wound and drips down my knuckle. It stings, but my nightmares scream through me with so much pain—this is nothing. I would usually apply lobellum right away to make sure it doesn’t scar, but scars don’t matter on a thief.
I will become whoever I need to be to survive.
I put my finger in my mouth to stop the blood from staining the sheets.
A thief it is, then.