Chapter 15
Sebastien never wanted his summons. That meant you wouldn't fight your opponent to survive. I wasn’t always convinced that it meant more.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
Hart disappeared that afternoon. I recited my uncle’s papers from memory, searching for new meaning, and counted the wood slats in the floor to pass the time.
Still, Hart didn’t return.
Ava had told us to stay hidden. She’d said it was dangerous in Kavios for both of us, but if Hart didn’t have to remain locked in this back room, maybe I didn’t, either.
Of course, I knew he was still in the tavern; he wasn’t far enough away for our curse to cause discomfort.
Annoyed, I crossed to the door leading into the main room.
With a light press, the door swung open a few inches, and sound poured in.
The tavern was filled with patrons. This door opened near the private alcoves under the stairs, so few near it paid the fraction of an inch any attention.
Still, the dull roar of joviality spiked my anxiety.
There were so many people.
I kept the door open just a crack and tried to catalog the space. The barstools were filled. The tables and chairs beyond had customers eating hearty meals and milling between groups. I swallowed as my gaze returned to the alcoves—the tell-tale orange glow emanated from almost all of them.
The color alone was enough to issue a retreat. I couldn’t think of taking lust, or of Hart’s instructions the last time we were here. He’d explained how a Blessed should stoke their partner’s lust continuously during the process, so even as the emotion was taken, more was built.
I shivered.
A nasally voice, one too entitled and familiar for my liking, interrupted my unproductive thoughts. “We need to talk somewhere private. I told the bartender I’d use this room.”
Vaddon Camm.
The king’s advisor had hair too slick to be clean, and a long, pointed nose that I’d rather not see from the position of him glaring down at me. His long strides brought him closer to the door I stood behind.
My pulse quickened. I needed to hide.
A hand gripped mine and pulled before I could turn to search the room. Panic left me as quickly as it flooded me, because the heat of his touch left no question of the owner’s identity.
“Don’t fight me, Chaos. We have to go.”
The door out of which I’d peered opened before Hart got us through the side entrance.
If we left now, Vaddon would see. Hart must have drawn the same conclusion.
He didn’t release my hand as he tugged me under the banquet table that lined the side of the room.
A large black cloth draped over it. It would shelter us from view so long as Vaddon didn’t lift it to search.
We didn’t have time to be precious about it. Hart slid under on hands and knees, yanking me with him. I followed so quickly that I landed across his chest. With rapid movements, he tugged my legs beneath the cloth, and as I silently righted myself, I found myself astride Hart’s supine form.
“Fucking Chaos,” he whispered as I pushed to move off him.
We both froze, his hands on my hips holding me in place, as Vaddon spoke. “Go on. I don’t have all day.”
I hadn’t seen who entered the room with the advisor.
I hadn’t needed to see more than Vaddon to know I had to run.
But in this moment, I agreed with Hart’s desire for stillness.
Any chance of sound from movement was too great a risk.
Fear prickled my spine. If Vaddon found us, Hart could wield my fear with ease.
“It’s not as if the text you request is easily available, sir.” The man’s voice was meek, nervous. I couldn’t imagine he wanted to be in this room with one of the most powerful Blessed in Kavios.
“Do I look like I care, Weston? Get me the book, or get out of the city. Those are your options.”
I heard the second man’s choked swallow even from our position beneath the table.
My own silent swallow followed, and I glanced down to meet Hart’s steady gaze.
His brow furrowed at the conversation, but his green eyes focused solely on me.
His hands hadn’t left my hips, holding me in place above him, and I found the reassurance of his grip comforting.
“I’ve searched the jeweler’s workshop. I even searched the queen’s study—”
Hart flinched at the mention of the queen, but the man continued.
“I’m not sure it’s here.”
Vaddon’s voice was quieter. I found myself leaning forward to hear it, but that was ridiculous; it only meant I leaned closer to Hart’s mouth.
“Are you calling the goddess a liar?”
Mumbled excuses fell from Weston’s lips like rain from the sky. Vaddon cut him off. “Good. Now that we agree it’s here. I need you to find it. Alaric wouldn’t have had it. This book is for those who worship Order, something we know the jeweler never did.”
“What about the teashop in Woodside?” Weston asked.
“That heathen doesn’t worship Themis either.” He snapped his fingers as if an idea came to him. “But I’ve heard he hides books he thinks favor order. He can’t bring himself to destroy them. I can issue a raid if you can’t search it discreetly.”
Hart’s breath on my neck calmed me as the horrifying conversation unfolded just beyond our covered hiding spot.
I’d hate myself later, but I leaned further into it.
What I’d always loved about Hart was that he needed little explanation.
He just knew. He knew what I needed now.
His fingers regripped my hips and put just enough weight on his pointer and middle fingers to guide me closer to him.
“I’ll search it, sir,” the man mumbled.
“Remember, What Makes a Champion of Order is the title. But it could have been recovered. Search for anything describing how to become Themis’s Champion. No matter how far-fetched it sounds.”
“Yes, sir,” Weston mumbled.
“You have five days. It should take less. If you don’t contact me with the book by then, I’ll assume you’ve chosen to flee Kavios.
” The click of Vaddon’s boots sounded as he returned to the doorway.
When he opened it, clinks of glass and the slide of silverware against plates, and a hundred conversations happening at once flooded the near-empty room.
I held Hart’s stare as we waited to hear the second set of steps, the second opening and closing of the door signaling the other man had left as well. It didn’t come.
The light footfalls of the second man moved about the room. Some brought him closer to us; some brought him farther. He must be pacing.
My hands pressed against Hart’s broad chest, the contact a balm to my frayed nerves. The information Vaddon asked for sounded terrifying. I couldn’t begin to untangle what it meant.
Hart’s nose was close enough that it could slide against my throat. His lips could follow. Fucking Chaos. This was such a mess.
Ava’s voice was a ray of sunshine piercing the storm clouds. “You can’t be in here.”
“Ah, sorry, Ava. I didn’t—”
“I know. Camm left.”
We couldn’t see what passed between Ava and Weston, but the door opened and closed again. After the world’s longest pause, one that sent me inching closer to Hart, Ava spoke. “You’re good, but I’d leave out the side exit.”
I crawled off Hart as quickly as I’d leaned into his strength. Ava had left the room by the time we emerged from beneath the table.
“What was that?”
Hart studied me. “I was trying to find out. He rented a room upstairs this afternoon. That book—he must be getting desperate, because he met with another woman and had nearly the same conversation.”
The way he held my gaze always made me too aware of his presence. This was no different. “Do you really think Themis told him it’s in the city? What could it tell them about the summoning?”
It couldn’t just be the summoning. I had some inkling of that truth, but the other reality was too terrifying to voice.
Hart’s shrug belied his worry. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that I could see the rigid set of his jaw for the anxiety it was.
The salty taste in my mouth followed. He changed the topic, but his determination to complete the trials spoke for itself.
“We should go to Alaric’s workshop. It’s late enough.
Ava said the guards tend to be less active at this time of night. ”
I nodded and walked to the side exit as Ava had instructed. My mind spun with what we’d heard. Hart and I had been searching for a way to break our curse. It had only occurred to me yesterday that the end of the trials—breaking free—might have larger implications.
Scarlett had said every well-crafted goal had many chaotic paths to success. It gave me pause. We’d talked so much about balance in Ciril. The Goddesses seemed to favor it, especially Themis. So what if, in the service of her goal, there was another, orderly path to her desired outcome?
Hart’s hand pressed lightly on my lower back as he ushered us down Cross Street.
I moved more quickly and confidently than I was used to.
It told me precisely how different things were now, after my return to Kavios.
No more slipping by unnoticed or dodging a bump from anyone.
The fears weren’t gone, but I found they were no longer my highest priority.
That was a depressing thought.
The key to Alaric’s shop was heavy in my pocket. I’d kept it with me even on our journey—a piece of Alaric to hold close. We didn’t use it. Per Ava’s warning, we walked down the alley to climb in through one of the windows in the back.
I’d entered this way before. Before Alaric acknowledged I’d be visiting most mornings, before he gave me my own key.
Now, I couldn’t help but wonder if the hesitation to teach me forbidden history, to train me in gem shaping and jewelry making, had actually been a hesitation to force me on this path he’d concocted.
Had he come to regret his decisions?