Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
-KADIAN-
“Do you think Iona will show?” Oz asked, stretching out on the mat in front of me. His optimism hadn’t dulled and my irritation had only grown. He thought inviting her was one of his better ideas. I did not see a worse one.
He tried to convince me this morning, “We’re a new generation of court members…
We should build bridges…gotta keep those lines of communication open…
besides, what if she knows of a jam that we’ve never heard of?
What if it has a smoky flavor that you know I’d love?
Sometimes you gotta make sacrifices, brother.
” He’d placed his hand on my shoulder, and the squeeze he gave it was full of hope. Something I was lacking at the moment.
I tried to return his smile, acknowledging he’d asked me a question. I knew this was his way of dealing with the fact his sister had chosen a different court than him. Tamra’s letter had maybe done him some good, and fucked me in the process.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, running a hand through my hair. As much as I wanted to appreciate the sentiment behind Oz’s push for peace, there was no way I could get behind it. Whatever it was Iona knew, or was hiding, I wanted no part of it.
I’d spent the greater part of the previous night going over what it could be. After my trip to the House of Reflection, I made my way back to the House of Shadows. Once again, I was greeted by the door.
“Well, well, where have you been? Do I smell another House on you? How revolting. It’s not even one of the better ones.” It teased, refusing to open.
I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to calm. “There’s no way you smell another House on me. That isn’t a thing,” I replied, trying to sound convincing, praying I was right. Praying to who? At this point, I couldn’t be sure. Whoever it was, it was clear no one was listening.
The Door laughed, its mocking tone ringing through the silence. “Oh, sweet Kadian. Humans are such fragile things.”
“Fragility is not always a weakness.” I said, gaze narrowing on the pulses that bounced within the gem embedded at the center.
“Is that so?”
“If humans were glass, then perhaps. But fragility in spirit can be a sign of fortitude. A symbol that you’re willing to bend or break for those you love. And that is anything but weakness,” I said, my voice finding itself. “That’s strength.”
Without uttering another word, the door opened, allowing me to pass through into the inferno.
It took over an hour of wandering through winding corridors to find my room—seven floors up.
Unlike most of the House, which had walls imbued with fire that pulsed with life, my room was dimmer.
The walls were quieter, darker, and the space was larger than any room I’d ever had before, more ornate and overwhelming.
It made me long for the simplicity of my old apartment.
The room had a massive fireplace built into the rock, as if we needed more heat in the House of Shadows.
There was a bathing chamber that could have fit my entire old quarters in it, and the bed was big enough to swallow me whole.
Two could have easily fit in this bed. And I’d brushed my hand over where she could have been.
Perhaps in another world, another life. I’d laid in bed debating what Iona knew until sleep claimed me.
Oz coughed, bringing me back to myself.
When I’d asked him about his new room, his usual carefree smile had appeared.
“The whole room’s a deep green, and there are roots everywhere—the walls, the floor, parts of the ceiling.
Like we’re living in the base of a tree.
It’s strange, but I love it. The only thing is, I’ll need to make sure I’m never too drunk.
” He winked. “Never know when a root will pop out and get you.”
I stretched, feeling the pull in my thighs. Frustration gnawed at me as I saw her walk into the gym. Iona. Her fiery red hair caught the light as she entered, and the sight of her only made my mood darken.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Fine morning for a spar, is it not?” She said, pulling her hair back from her face like it was meant to intimidate me.
Oz was already on his feet, pulling her into a hug. It was the first time in days I’d genuinely laughed or smiled. The pure panic that flashed across Iona’s face when Oz showed her kindness was priceless.
“What?” I whispered, a grin tugging at my lips as Oz pulled away. “Not used to a man willingly touching you?”
I moved off to the side of the mat as Oz stepped forward. “So, Iona, are you ready for us?”
Iona’s expression twisted into something feral. “Absolutely,” she growled, a surge of tension building in the air as she moved onto the mat. Oz readied himself, getting into proper position. A position he had taken me down from several times before. Then, the chaos unfolded.
“Shit,” I murmured to Oz as we entered the second hour, sweat was seeping into my eyes, blurring my vision. As much as I hated this woman, I had to admit she was the best fighter I’d ever faced. She might have been a good match for Dainan.
Iona and I had gone three rounds, and of the three, I’d lost two. I feared I only won one due to her growing bored.
Oz glistened from sweat and Iona was dry as ever—not a speck of moisture on her. We were sport to her. An easy game, a distraction before breakfast.
Looking over at Oz, I saw his grin grow bigger, seeing an opportunity to pin Iona to the mat.
Of the five rounds they’d gone, he’d lost five.
He circled around her and made his move, except he was too slow, she maneuvered out of the way, and, within seconds, had him in a position that resulted in him begging for release.
“Well, boys,” Iona said, “this has been a great start to my day.” She let go of Oz’s arm, and the grimace of pain dissipated from his face.
“You say you two do this every morning?” She made her way to the table with water, taking a sip.
Oz nodded, struggling to catch his breath.
After she downed her water, she looked back over her shoulder to us, “See you both tomorrow then.”
Gods, what have you started Oz?
Oz lay flat on his back on the mat, grinning. “That was incredible.” He said, forcing himself up. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like her. Have you?”
Shaking my head, I took a sip of the water. “Not a woman anyway. Dainan, Rai, Alvar, they were all strong fighters.”
“Were?” Oz scoffed. “They’re lethal is what they are. All three of them. I wouldn’t want to find myself facing down one of them.”
If only you remembered, Oz. If only.
???
“Do you have those notes?”
My heart raced, a prickling sensation growing on the back of my neck. I remained unsure what it was that terrified me about Tura, but there was something. Perhaps her curt tone, her warnings, the idea that she knew more than she was letting on, and planned to divulge absolutely none of it to me.
“Do you mean the notes from the…” I lowered my voice to a whisper, “Vitality Council?”
“Obviously I mean the notes from the Vitality Council!” She bellowed.
“It’s no secret we attended, you do not need to make it appear as if you know nothing of its existence.
There is a record taken of each meeting, your name has been recorded as one of those in attendance.
” She made her way behind the desk, reaching down for a ledger.
“If someone in four thousand years wished to know who attended the Vitality Council meeting on the 7th of Durum, it would state that Kadian Taldot, Scribe of Tura Maisala, was there. Not taking notes.”
“I’m not sure they would know about the last part…” I said as I mulled over her words. My presence in Azmeer, it was a known thing. I was a part of it now in ways I had yet to understand. Ways I did not want to be.
“Is there a reason the notes are not yet available for me to log?” She said, her amber eyes boring into me like a parent scolding a child.
“I…uh…” For fuck’s sake, get a hold of yourself.
What would Brida and Lil say if they could see you now…
I knew what they would say. “It’s okay, take your time, and just breathe” would be Brida’s response.
And “what’s the matter with you?” would be Lil’s.
Forever the most diplomatic of our ragtag assembly.
Tura’s expression grew tauter, and I searched for the words. Just tell her I have a difficult time with this. She could assign me another job. Any other job—she’s kind… Maybe.
“Wait.” I paused. “Did you say it’s Durum? Already?!”
“Do you not look at calendars, boy? Do you just waltz your way through life under the assumption that all days are the same? Good Gods, what has Alvar sent me.”
A burden, mistake, pain in the ass? Any and all of those things to be sure.
“It just slipped my mind, is all.” Brida’s birthday was in the month of Durum.
The transition of Summer to Fall, her birthday falling right on the cusp.
“You are not what I would classify as a Summer child.” I had said to her once, poking at her.
She hid her grin as she’d replied, “That’s because I am an Autumn.
Warm, rich, deeply sophisticated.” While we’d both laughed, I hadn’t disagreed with her.
She was all of those things, and I, well, I was none of those things.
“The notes, Kadian.” Tura’s exasperated voice grew thick with frustration, the lines deepening between her brows. I found myself transfixed by them, leaning in. What must it be like to be that old…
Tura coughed.
“Yes, I apologize. I will go work on those now… Is there…”
“Spit it out,” she said as she leaned her head into her hand, attempting to rub away the pain that was forming behind her eyes.
“Is there a template I can emulate? As to not break with your record keeping.”
With this question, Tura’s expression brightened. I have finally done something right.
After being handed a tome that I believed to be older than Azmeer itself and arguing with Tura that if it truly was that old that I shouldn’t be trusted with it, I made my way up to the third floor of the library after I’d lost that battle.
Over the course of the next several hours, I attempted to detail everything from the meeting.
I’d always been blessed with a good memory—that had never been the issue.
I could see the images in my mind as if they were right before me.
Recalling the sights, the sounds, the smells—all of that was easy.
I didn’t know how to convey that feeling on a page.
By the end of my shift, my shoulders sagged, and my day was nowhere near finished. I closed up the folder, said my goodbyes to Tura, and made my way to my room.
I had a plan, and didn’t want to risk its failure before I’d even begun.
I waited until it was late enough and made my way to the library.
It was quiet, no one barred my entrance this evening, which I was grateful for.
I still had no idea how I was going to do this.
I needed the information Addie had possessed.
I knew, somehow, this would give me the answer of what had transpired at the wedding.
Why had Brida been taken? How could I find her and Lil?
From the few times I had accompanied Brida to the library at night, I knew when the scribes left, save for the one on duty.
They would depart at the ninth bell and make their way into their quarters.
There was a doorway on the western side of the library, hidden under the stairs that led down to their rooms.
I’d tried my best to blend in, wearing my clothes from Escalia, beige and drab. I didn’t have anything like their robes in my possession, so it was a stretch at best, but I thought this would be my best chance.
Making my way to a table near the western side of the library, I grabbed a book, any book—I wasn’t going to read, and sat down at a table. Waiting, watching the scribes of Azmeer.
Over the course of the next two bells, the majority of the library cleared out. According to Brida, it was rare that it was ever fully cleared out, always a Magister or a scribe doing work late into the night.
The ninth bell rang out through the halls of Azmeer, and I watched as the scribes sitting at a table a few feet down from my own all rose and made their way to the door. This was my chance.
I kept ten feet behind the final scribe, thankful that none of them looked back to see if someone, an imposter, was following behind them.
As the last scribe made their way through the entryway, I lunged forward, grabbing the very edge of the door before it slipped through my fingertips.
One step down. I paused for a moment, holding the door open, waiting for the echo of their footsteps to carry down the stairs to their rooms. As the faint reverberation of feet faded into the distance, I seized my opportunity and followed, closing the door behind me.
The stairwell radiated cold—a dampness that etched itself into my bones. This was never a place I would have pictured Addie. Someone who embodied warmth, relegated to the pit of Azmeer.
All I needed to do was get to the bottom, to ensure I made it into the halls, and then find Addie’s room.
It will be fine. I thought, reminding myself this was something that was necessary. I can do this. As much as I wanted to believe that was true, that sensation evaporated when I felt someone, or something grab my wrist.