3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
M alik led us to the Copper Jackals’ guildhall looming at the end of Copper Alley. The street had picked up the not-so-clever name as the guild grew and members established businesses along either side. Everflame lamps decorated the white stone walls of the large guildhall. Most of the members lived in this building, using it as a home.
After nightfall, only members could enter, but several remained active throughout the night to keep the city and surrounding villages safe in place of the five High Houses. Most believed they’d forgone their duty to the people of the Kingdom of Valaryn. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the Copper Jackals taking up residence in Dusmir, the city wouldn’t have grown as much as it had.
We made it up the steps leading to the entrance, and Malik placed his palm against the enchanted golden-jackal motif in the center of the door. The eyes glowed amber, and the door swung open on its own.
Two sweeping staircases framed the large foyer, and corridors led left and right, deeper into the guildhall. We veered right down the hall leading to their infirmary, somewhere I’d grown all too familiar with.
I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened since Malik only called on me for severe injuries. The less frequently he needed me, the less likely it was that Klareth would find out what I did for the Copper Jackals.
Malik pushed open the door to the infirmary. A stringent medicinal scent stung my nose, and I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the blinding bright light from silver everflame lamps.
Three unfamiliar faces watched me. I thanked the gods that not all the beds were full and liked to think it meant others I’d healed had learned from their near-death experience.
I stepped closer to the bed farthest from the door, and the blood drained from my face.
The guild leader, Veth, pressed her hands to a young woman’s wound, holding in the intestines threatening to spill free. A bloody pink loop had escaped her efforts. Blood pooled on the white floors, leaving the woman’s skin ashen. Each breath she took was ragged as her chest sank in.
It was a miracle the woman even hung on to life.
“Hurry,” Veth said. Tired, dark crescents cradled her emerald eyes.
Swallowing hard, I knelt beside both of them and placed my hand along the girl’s stomach and took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I imagined a glowing silver thread connecting my soul to hers. A sliver of vibrant life remained along the woman’s thread, barely a blip. I sighed, anxiety easing. But the only thing standing between the woman and death was me.
I released my hold on the lightning. It tickled my fingers, twining around them. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that it now skated across the woman, seeking the wound.
Her thread of life grew shorter.
No!
I pushed more lightning from within me toward her gaping abdomen, willing the mending to hasten. The thread bobbed again, the light blinking out for a second and then returning. My jaw clenched, and then I gasped, her pain rushing into me, sharp and vicious.
Her warm, sticky skin burned like fire against my cold hands, the healing process leeching their warmth. I sucked in a heaving breath.
The bit of thread flickered, then glowed with life again, and I smiled. She’s going to be okay.
I opened my eyes and pulled my hand away, drawing the energy back. A little pink scar of new flesh had replaced the gaping wound. By tomorrow, it would be gone. Only the people in the room would know anything was amiss.
If the wound hadn’t healed fast enough, she would’ve died, and there would’ve been nothing I could do. Each Divine’s ability to heal was unique. Lightning expedited the natural healing process, making fatal wounds tricky.
Veth placed her hand on mine. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I stood and then nodded at the Copper Jackals’ leader. The world around me wobbled, her half-fey beauty blurring. I steadied myself on the bed. “Someone had to,” I said.
“Rest here as long as you need.”
I started to nod again but thought better of it. “Thanks, but I’m fine,” I lied.
Veth frowned, and the sharp angles of her face softened.
“You worry too much,” I said, keeping my hand on the edge of the bed. Sure of myself, I let go but stumbled with my second step. Marus placed a steadying hand on the small of my back and took my hand in the other.
“You really should rest,” he whispered, guiding me out of the room.
“And lose this bit of freedom?”
“My quarters before you go,” Malik interrupted outside the doorway.
I sighed.
Malik likely wanted to discuss me joining the Copper Jackals. Again. But it’d be after he saw to it that each injured member’s family was informed of their status. It could be hours before he was ready to talk.
“Find me at the Sleeping Alligator,” I said, waving him off.
His sharp glare cut through the blurry haze. Before he could argue, I started down the hall, Marus sticking close by and assisting as best he could. He ensured I didn’t fall but knew better than to hover like a mother hen.
Even with his help, my balance failed me, and I stumbled into a wall. If anyone saw me, they would likely think I’d had one drink too many and that Marus was helping me home. Only a few people knew about what I did for the Copper Jackals, and it was better that way. Having the entire city beg the resident Divine to heal them would be hard to hide from Klareth.
Getting down the steps outside the guildhall tested me; it had to be Ahrea’s luck that I didn’t tumble down them. Or maybe I should thank Marus . He stopped me a few times and made me wait until I was steady before moving down another step.
“You should take it easy,” Marus said.
“That’s what Esteban’s tavern is for.” A drink would dull the throbbing in my head.
Marus groaned and continued to follow for a few minutes before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
My balance steadied on the level street, and the cool air eased the dizziness and my pounding head. “I feel better by the minute.”
His brow pinched together, but he conceded. “I’ll be at the library if you need me.”
I nodded and suspected it was only because I’d be with Esteban that he’d relented.
Keeping my focus on putting one foot in front of the other, my mind continued to clear from the intense healing, and the relentless itch of lightning had dampened. Lethal wounds always drained the buzzing energy from the power I’d been gifted.
The Sleeping Alligator came into view, but coming out of a nearby restaurant was Klareth’s husband, Roan Beris. His coppery hair shone in the lamplight of the street. He held the hand of a smiling child. In the dark, I couldn’t be certain if it was an orphan from the temple.
I ducked into the alley between the tavern and the blacksmith before he spotted me.
Roan blocked any further view of the child, gesturing as they headed toward the temple. Klareth often liked to treat her favorites to meals outside of the bland food within the temple but didn’t always have time to do so herself, and she often asked her husband to do so in her stead. That was most likely what he’d been doing.
They rounded a corner, and I waited an extra minute before peeking out of the alley and dashing for the Sleeping Alligator.
I pushed on the door of the tavern and met resistance, so I squeezed through the crack, tumbling into a muscled chest. Stepping back, I recognized the broad-shouldered member of the Copper Jackals who often worked for Esteban. He bore a copper pin of a jackal’s head on his open tunic, which revealed muscled dark brown skin.
He smiled down at me and said, “Careful. Wouldn’t want you to piss off the wrong guy.”
I smiled back. “Peacekeeping for Esteban tonight?”
He nodded, scanning the tavern patrons who were drinking, dancing, and eating their fill. “If Esteban didn’t offer such a nice deal, it’d be a different story.”
A fight broke out on the other end of where we were, and the broad-shouldered man darted off. Over his shoulder he shouted, “Be careful, girlie.”
Esteban’s tavern was very . . . dwarven.
The interior and furnishings were mostly iron. A large forge stood in the far corner like a fountain of molten iron, giving the space a perpetual smoky, metallic scent. A couple of dwarves stood in front of the forge, crafting steins for the bar. The forge functioned the way a fireplace would in an average tavern, only it was far more dangerous.
I sat at the iron countertop . Esteban wandered over a moment later, stepping up behind the counter on the landing that had been built for dwarves and gnomish alike. His brown-red beard speckled with gray hairs was braided, with a decorative bead holding it together at the bottom. He studied me. “You look like you’ve had a shit night, girl.” He pushed a wineglass in front of me that had a familiar berry-sweet scent.
I beamed at it, taking the drink. The wine was a special brew he’d made for me. He claimed it was too sweet for his average clientele, but he’d used his skill with dwarven ale making to craft the decadent vintage.
I gulped down the first swallow of the smooth, tart wine. “And you’re looking as lovely as ever.”
“You’re pale,” he said.
I waved off his concern. “I’m always pale.”
He frowned.
I took another long drink. “I didn’t sleep much,” I lied.
Esteban scoffed, wiping down the counter. “Take care of yourself, girl. I don’t have much I care for.”
My eyes dropped to the red-berry wine swirling in the wineglass. Esteban was the closest I had to family aside from my aunt and cousin, strange as it was. He used to belong to a performing troupe that visited every year for the Lunar Dream festival in the winter before my parents passed. Happenstance brought us back together. Those simpler days were long gone, but I still held those childhood memories close to my heart.
“I’ll avoid any undo recklessness,” I said.
He rolled his golden-brown eyes. “Direct some of that reckless behavior at freeing yourself from that temple, and live your life, girl.”
Before I could reply, the kitchen staff called Esteban away.
I sipped the wine, letting the sweetness coat my mouth before swallowing, and tried not to think about what he’d said. As the Tempest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be free.
I spun around, surveying the tavern patrons. My white-haired acquaintance—the magnate who supplied the Copper Jackals—was nowhere to be seen, and I sighed. Keiran and I only got to see each other when we happened to cross paths in the tavern, but it’d been a few weeks since I last saw him.
Leaning back against the counter in my seat, I finished the wine. Looks darted my way here and there. I flashed them a thin-lipped smile, and their eyes wandered away with expressions of embarrassment. I doubt they had expected me to notice them.
A barmaid with dark braided hair filled my glass, and I savored another sip, the sweetness warming my throat and spreading as it went down.
A man slid onto the stool beside me and whistled, and I shot him a glare, straightening.
He grinned, crinkling his twisted nose. He looked as though he needed a bath. “And I thought it was just the dwarven ale that was good.” He slurred his words, and from how he grappled the counter to stay upright, I could tell he’d had a few too many. He took in a slow eyeful, his gaze lingering on my chest.
An arm wrapped around my waist from the other side. I yelped, drawing attention from a few nearby patrons, who quickly went back to their drinks and conversations with their companions.
The man with the twisted nose stepped closer.
I wriggled in the grasp of the sour-breathed man who’d grabbed me, and glanced toward the kitchen, but there wasn’t anyone there.
Lucky for the intoxicated men, the storm inside was a dull thrum against my skin and not a threat to them. Unlucky for me.
“You’re a pretty thing,” the man holding me said.
I elbowed him, and his grip loosened enough for me to slide out of my seat. I stepped away, but one of them grabbed me from behind, their grasp pinning my arms at my sides. A hand slid toward my breasts, and nausea built in my stomach.
A shaggy-haired man stepped in front of me—the sour-breathed man. His rough fingers brushed against my cheek, and his eyes stilled as they met mine. Mismatched eyes weren’t common, after all. I used his pause to try to kick him between the legs, but he pressed himself against me before I could. He grinned, revealing a missing tooth as his gaze shifted from my deep blue eye to the burnt umber one. “Be a sweetheart and play with us.”
Between the drinks I’d had and my waning energy from healing a lethal wound, my physical strength wasn’t at its peak. I tried slipping my hand to the dagger I kept strapped to my thigh, but it wasn’t there. Dammit, I didn’t grab it before leaving the temple .
“It doesn’t look like she’s enjoying herself.” I peered over the man’s shoulder to the savage-laced voice.
My gaze met his, and I couldn’t look away.
Eyes the color of dark storm clouds ready to burst reminded me so much of the tempest that writhed in my body and under my skin, waiting to break free—I hated the color for that but found myself trapped in them all the same. His expression promised violence.
The shaggy-haired man’s calloused fingers ran along my cheek again, and I jerked away.
From behind me, the stale alcohol on the other man’s breath carried his words. “Mind your business, asshole.”
Those storm-cloud eyes darkened, and he stalked forward, a wolf in a den of prey. Each step he took was full of deadly intent.
They released me and both scurried off, seeming to finally notice the promise in his voice and eyes. The one with the twisted nose tripped, stumbling to the floor, and his friend abandoned him.
I turned back to the man who had saved me. No, not saved. He’d simply scared off the brutes . I didn’t need to be saved.
“A thank-you would be nice,” he said, taking the drunkard’s seat next to me and placing an iron mug on the counter. Lamplight gleamed off his artfully messy dark hair.
“Excuse me? I didn’t ask you to do anything.”
The corners of his lips rose, lazy and full of arrogance. “But didn’t you? It would have been a shame if those men had their way with you.” He paused, but when I didn’t respond, he added, voice smooth like decadent chocolate, “The name is Caelus, by the way. Since you still haven’t asked.”
I blinked a few times, not sure what to say.
“The tavern keep and you seem to be on good terms.”
It was common knowledge that Esteban and I were close. I’d never seen this man before, and I certainly would have remembered him for his looks alone. “Everyone around here knows that Esteban isn’t just a tavern keep. Anyone who thinks less of him is either crass or uneducated.”
His smile changed. Some of that arrogance slipped and filled with warmth. He was handsome, with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Before he could catch me staring, I took another drink.
“And you’re clearly not of the uneducated sort,” he mused, playing with the rim of his mug.
“Clearly.”
“And what can I call the woman who is clearly not of the uneducated sort and who didn’t ask for my help and is the most beautiful person in the room?”
My mouth would have fallen open if I hadn’t filled it with another sip of wine. I swallowed hard. “Excuse me?”
His gaze swept over me, that smile still in place. “I’m asking for your name.” He gestured to the room and said, “But before I came to be in your company, anyone who hasn’t been otherwise occupied has admired you. Even those who were otherwise occupied stole a glance.”
“And how do you know that?”
He leaned in and whispered, “I watched them as you stumbled in.”
“So, you’re a stalker?”
He laughed, the sound rich and inviting, and my chest tightened. I hated his laugh. Not because of the warm sound, but because I wasn’t allowed these moments. Klareth kept me at her whim in the temple. Experiencing pleasant, flirty moments was near heart wrenching, knowing my life wouldn’t— couldn’t —be normal.
“Some might say so,” he said finally. “I’d like to think I’m simply quite . . . perceptive.”
“That’s a fancy way of saying you enjoy watching people.”
He shrugged and sipped from his cup. “Perhaps. Do you often visit the tavern? Or is it to see the owner?” he asked.
“That’s quite the personal question for someone you just met.”
“Fair enough,” he said, scanning the room. He smiled. “What about your favorite food? Harmless enough?”
A laugh escaped at the absurdly basic question. “I suppose. I love sweets. Especially chocolate. The baker on Copper Alley makes the best chocolate-filled pastries.”
From the corner of my eye, a familiar head of ebony hair that fell in dark curtains around a square face came closer, and my smile fell. Alissa. Klareth’s assistant.
My heart sped up, but Alissa turned and walked to the far side of the tavern, shooting glares at anyone who was too close. The rapid beating eased for the moment. Did she notice me? She may be on the other side of the room, but after what Caelus said about people admiring me, I didn’t want to take any chances.
I jolted up and held onto the counter to keep steady, my head spinning again. Esteban must have changed how he brewed the wine and made it stronger. I only made it a handful of steps before I tripped. Caelus’s hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me against his warm, hard chest. The act sent my vision whirling, but it was Caelus who led me closer to the exit and, subsequently, closer to Alissa.
“Running off?” he asked in a teasing tone.
I peeked around him. I’d lost Alissa in the group of patrons. “Not exactly.”
He watched my gaze shift back to him. “Then running from someone?” He was so close. The smell of leather, spring rain, and citrus broke through the stuffy tavern air. His breath caressed my cheek, and it sent warm little tingles through my body. When did he get this close?
“More like avoiding. For now.”
Something flashed across his eyes that I didn’t catch before he was closer, his lips on the verge of brushing against mine. “Perhaps I can help?” he asked.
I blinked, my body too warm. “H-help?”
“I’m rather good at making escapes, my lady.”
“Don’t call me that,” I hissed. “If anyone heard you, they might think poorly of you. The High Houses aren’t exactly beloved here.”
Caelus smiled lazily. “Of course. We wouldn’t want that.” He peeked over his shoulder, then turned back to me. “But you’re running out of time if you want my help.”
I tried to look past him, but it was impossible. He was too close, and his broad shoulders blocked prying eyes. It was an oddly sweet gesture for a total stranger.
I clenched my hands against my sides, and my gaze landed on Caelus again. He watched me with intense dark eyes, waiting.
Alissa didn’t always inform Klareth. Why did I even care if she caught me? It wouldn’t be the first time, but I didn’t want to take the chance of being subjected to hours of torment either. Maybe it was because I knew I shouldn’t be here. Was I running from the loneliness in my room at the temple? Before I could talk myself into being reckless and staying, I nodded.
Caelus didn’t waste any time leading me out of the tavern. He glanced over his shoulder once more, and I wondered how he knew whom I was avoiding. He pulled me to his side after a moment and headed straight for the exit, not even bothering to stick to the edges of the crowd. I stiffened as we snaked through the throng of people.
He must have noticed when my muscles tensed, because he leaned down and said, “It’s easier to go unnoticed when you’re one of many.”
We were approaching the exit when suddenly I heard, “Eira? Is that you?”
Caelus intercepted her, and I ducked into a nearby broom closet. I heard him say, “My, I never expected to see someone as lovely as you here tonight. Care to sit with me?”
Alissa didn’t say anything for a moment. I wondered what kind of expression he got from a line like that. My mouth dried at the thought. I had no claim to him. Alissa wasn’t one to swoon over a man simply because of some pretty words and a pretty face, though.
“Excuse me, but I thought I saw a friend,” Alissa said.
“Oh, you’ll have to forgive me, then. I didn’t mean to intrude. It seems you were mistaken about your friend.” There was a pause. “Let me buy you an apology drink on the chance that I caused you to miss them.”
I waited several minutes before popping out of the closet. I turned to make my escape when I came face-first with Malik’s chest. Stumbling back a step, I looked up at him. Dark coppery-brown strands of hair fell over his eyes, casting a shadow over the harsh lines of his face and adding to his expression of a man who was forever on the edge of exploding at the first person who said something wrong. Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and stepped outside.
I kept a fair distance as I followed him into the cool night air that calmed my flushed cheeks.