Chapter 14
Should the worst happen, should the Champion fail, there is another way.
— WHAT MAKES A CHAMPION OF ORDER
HART
She’d finally asked a question, finally started this conversation, and instead of continuing it, we were frozen in silence.
My body wrapped around hers, hidden in the false bottom of the merchant’s wagon while Carl spoke to the gate guard.
Ember pressed further into me the longer we waited.
The fact that she used me as a shield from whatever might come had impossible thoughts running through my head.
“We need to check your cargo,” the guard said.
The next sound came when Carl hopped down from the wagon to lift the tarp. I wasn’t worried. Carl had snuck youngleaf and other illegal imports into the city this way for years. He’d never been caught. Still, it was unclear how desperate my father was to find us.
Ember scooted closer, and the taste of her anxiety was tart on my tongue. My hand that rested on her hip fell across her stomach. She unclenched minutely as it did, like the band of my arm securing her brought comfort.
“Open this,” the guard said.
Carl climbed onto the wagon and took his time opening one of the boxes of wheat he transported. He must have stood directly atop us now.
The guard prodded another crate. “That one, too.”
My breaths were even in an attempt to reassure Ember.
She drew shorter and shorter breaths, though they remained quiet.
I didn’t know how to help. The flavor of her anxiousness only grew stronger.
The guard must have asked about another box.
I missed what he said as Ember twitched in my arms, nearly flailing.
I rolled her toward me to evaluate her expression. The tartness built to the bitter taste of her fear. Her wide eyes showed the same panic, but she gritted her teeth in an attempt to stopper any noise in her throat. With a sharp jolt, she pointed toward her ankle.
The press of her against me was its own torture, but I couldn’t find what frightened her. This couldn’t be nerves from the search. She flinched again. The jab of her finger toward her ankle was more aggressive this time.
Carl and the guard reviewed another box of his cargo—at least, that’s what the movement of their voices indicated. I needed to check her ankle before it pushed her to voice something and got us caught.
My arm around her stomach tightened, holding her in place, and I made eye contact with her before pulling her leg toward my hand.
She twitched again, but the panic in her eyes, her fear on my tongue, was the same as before I reached for her.
It had to be from whatever pained her, not my wandering hands.
Her fierce brown eyes pleaded with me to move faster. I caught her ankle in my grip and pulled the length of her skirt aside. Another full-body spasm sent me searching for something—anything—on her skin.
Even in the dark, confined to our hidden compartment, I found the rodent. The little beast latched on to her ankle with its teeth. Quicker than the rat could flee, I grabbed it and snapped its neck. We couldn’t risk it whining in my hand and drawing attention to our location.
Ember’s eyes shut as my hand smoothed back and forth over the irritated skin. I sought to reassure her more than anything, to tell her the pest was gone and that her body could relax. While only moments ago she’d been taut like a bow string, now she seemed to liquify in my arms.
I let my fingers trail up and down her ankle again—proof she was safe, at least from the rat. The rush of adrenaline that had overtaken me in an effort to protect her subsided, and something smoky coated my mouth.
The taste of her lust was impossible to ignore. I pushed away the satisfaction that I had stoked it, even as I felt my lip curl into a smirk.
Goddess, I hoped she couldn’t see it.
I pushed away the haze her lust always brought and tried to think rationally. My finger stroked the teeth marks of the rodent’s bite. I should really heal her. Who knew what diseases the pest brought?
With a final attempt to school my features, I turned her toward me for a silent conversation. My hand remained against her skin, but my gaze jumped back and forth between her face and where I gripped her, yet to take.
I must have conveyed my question. The sting of the bite was still fresh, I was sure. She worried her lip and nodded.
While I wished I had more time to celebrate her acknowledgment of our connection, I needed to take her lust before it cooled. The smoky taste only grew the more I crowded her. I didn’t give myself time to wonder at it before I dropped the shield I’d learned to hold between us whenever we touched.
Power flooded the connection point. Her eyes, which had been nearly closed as my fingers circled the bite marks, shot open when I took. I channeled her lust into healing magic, pressing it over the two small puncture wounds until I could no longer feel them.
I pulled my hand back as the lust left her. The revelation that overtook her features, the flare of her nostrils, and the narrowing of her gaze told me whatever strange peace had existed between us to defend her from the rodent was gone.
Reason had returned, and she must have felt too exposed by my actions. I longed for the day reason would bring her back to me.
She opened her mouth, and I shook my head sharply, mouthing, Not here.
Something burned behind her gaze, and the bitter taste on my tongue shifted to something spicy with her anger. I’d apologize if I could, but the wagon hadn’t moved. The search continued with the guards at the gate.
Finally, above us, Carl jumped from the wagon to the ground. The guard’s voice traveled to us as he said, “Go on through.”
Ember worked to distance us again as the cart ambled into the city, but every time she bumped against me, the contact lingered. And I could have sworn that not even her anger had burned away all the smoke on my tongue.
Carl let us out when the wagon was safely hidden in the alleyway of his first stop—my tavern.
Forest’s Edge looked no different than when we’d left, and I was glad for it.
This place, though frequented by the Blessed and indulgent of more than a few vices, was the only thing that felt like mine in Kavios. At least until I’d had Ember.
My gaze followed the rickety staircase to the undisturbed door and the upstairs apartment. It wasn’t much, but it had been home. Ember stood next to me and followed my gaze. A refreshing, minty coolness marked my next swallow. I had expected the heat of her anger. This might be worse.
I stared at the side entrance to the space I’d carved out for myself. In my tavern, my rules were upheld, and the Feared met right under my father’s nose.
Ava leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed and a hint of worry she couldn’t quite mask. “You’re back.”
I nodded. Ember took a few more steps forward, surely searching for distance after our time together in the cart. She shook herself off while straightening her clothes, like maybe she could dust away the memories of my presence against her skin.
Unlikely.
After our ride, I wondered if it was worth trying to conquer lust next. It would anger her, sure, but clearly the feeling was within reach.
It doesn’t mean anything that she feels it so freely with me.
I dismissed the trial of lust quickly. If the wagon ride proved anything, it was that we might need the healing magic before this was over. This was a new approach to consider. Which emotions were near the surface for us, and which associated magic wasn’t critical to our success?
This brought me right back to sadness. My father relied on the calming magic of sadness, but I’d never found it useful. I knew Ember disliked it. The stupor it held over most of Kavios’s citizens made it unappealing to her.
We’d need to discuss our next step. We might as well hide in the tavern and see what Ava could tell us of the city.
As if she read my mind, Ava pushed herself off the doorframe and ushered us in. “The back room is open.”
The room always looked as though a group had just left; usually, they had.
Much of the time, we used it for high-stakes gambling tables, giving us good reason to gate entry.
Dark wood walls surrounded a smattering of tables and chairs.
Deep green cushions covered the seats, and candles lit each table and the chandelier above.
Ava walked to the door that led to the tavern. She pushed it enough to flag someone and held up three fingers. At least ordering drinks for this conversation was high on her to-do list. As someone handed her drinks through the door, she lowered her voice and said, “No one comes back here. Got it?”
Whoever worked the front must have accepted her command. She dropped the tankards of ale on the table where Ember sat, then she turned to me. “I have to go help Carl unload. Don’t get into trouble before I return.”
I sighed, thinking again that this was unlikely.
As soon as Ava left the building, Ember picked up her mug of ale and took a long sip. “Does she know who you are?”
It wasn’t the question I expected, but one I was happy to answer.
I met her at the high-top table she’d chosen and picked up my own mug.
“Yes. Ava is the only one I told. I thought she deserved to know before she ran the tavern for me.” When her gaze finally met mine, I added, “Anyone else who knew didn’t hear it from me. ”
“How did Alaric know?” she pressed.
“How did Alaric know anything?” I wanted to laugh but thought it might be indelicate. Alaric’s ability to know what he shouldn’t in a kingdom that regulated information as much as adamas continued to astound me.
She took another sip. “Soren knew.”
I dipped my chin. “He guessed. He was a skeptic. I’d argue he wasn’t quite convinced until the adamas failed against me when he attacked us in the woods.”
Another gulp of ale swallowed my shame at having had to kill Soren.
He’d been a fierce fighter for the Feared.
Others had looked up to him. He’d been one of the few I could ask something tricky of and know it would be done.
I took another long pull of ale, hoping this one would remind me that he’d made his choice.
I honestly couldn’t tell if it helped, but Ember’s brow furrowed as she considered her next move.
“Should we just take care of lust now?”
The carelessness with which she cast the word in my direction told me all I needed to know.
If she felt her lust was outside of her control, she’d take back control this way.
I might have let her, just to force her to reckon with it once our trial was complete, but the magic was too valuable to waste.
“As fun as that would be, Chaos, I think we need the healing ability. We need to strategize about what powers we can survive without.”
Her cheeks pinked, and I marveled at how quickly her mind shifted tactics. “Sadness. I won’t use it.”
She seemed to realize what she’d said. What part of her soul she wanted to bare next. She lifted the mug to her lips and drank deeply.
Ava returned at that moment. “So, this is going well. Have you been like this the whole time you’ve been gone?”
Ember wiped her mouth with her sleeve and nodded. “It’s been worse.”
The smile Ava turned on her seemed genuine.
Alaric and Ava had been close. It wouldn’t have surprised me to learn that Ava was privy to information about Ember that I hadn’t been granted.
Suddenly, I felt like Ember, wondering who had known what.
Had Ava known who Ember was to me? Had she kept it from me with Alaric?
Something in the open features of her face when she turned to me told me the answer. She hadn’t known. She’d been as confused by Alaric’s disappearance as the rest of us.
I shook myself free of the meandering thoughts. “We need to get into Alaric’s workshop. Is it being watched?”
Ember glanced at me. Her lips twitched with questions, but she didn’t seem willing to ask them in front of Ava.
“We’ve kept an eye on it. The Blessed have been through it multiple times, but no one stands guard. I’ll have to check the schedule, but you should be able to get in tonight. I wouldn’t recommend the front door. There are rewards out for both of you.”
I nodded and glanced at Ember. “Do you want to clean up or anything? Ava’s right, we probably shouldn’t wander around in broad daylight.”
She seemed unwilling to contemplate where she’d clean up. My apartment would be easiest to get in and out of. The stiffening of her posture said she knew it, too.
“Why Alaric’s?” she finally turned to ask me. Apparently, confronting that question was better than thoughts of our night together in my apartment.
I shot her a knowing look, which she seemed determined to ignore.
“It’s where…” I sighed. We both had lost him.
I knew the wounds were different, but we both had scars from his absence.
“It’s where we first learned about all of this.
It’s where we both went to learn more. I hoped it could be a place of significance, a place to help us accomplish our tasks. ”
Her shoulders dropped a few inches, like she heard what I didn’t say.
That it would remind us both of the friend, the uncle, we’d lost. She seemed grateful I didn’t explain our task to Ava.
I would eventually, but Ava would cackle with delight at trials that forced me to share my feelings, and that was the last thing we needed right now.
I spent so much time worrying about Ember sharing her emotions, I blocked out the fact that I’d have to share mine, too.
“Fine,” Ember said.
Ava’s eyes narrowed as she attempted to deduce our mission.
“We’ll be in the city for a while. We need somewhere to sleep,” I said to redirect Ava’s attention to a more productive task.
“Your apartment is undisturbed,” she said. “Guards have been through the tavern multiple times, but they don’t seem to know that’s your place.”
I shook my head. “Ember needs one of the rooms in the tavern.”
Ava nodded, and before I could glance at Ember, the flavor of mint cooled my mouth.
Fucking Chaos. Could I do nothing right? Did she want to stay in my apartment?
The cart ride had left me tangled in knots, and I just wanted to get this entire set of emotions taken care of as quickly as possible. I knew it wouldn’t work that way. Somehow, I knew that each trial would be stickier, messier, and more uncomfortable than the last.