49. Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter forty-nine
"No!" I scream so loud, the sound tears into me.
Reg blinks in surprise, then shrugs, as if it's no big deal. I race to Dex, desperately calling on magic, trying to heal the deep cut across his neck, though I can’t see it properly with the blood gushing through his fingers in crimson waves.
Why isn't it responding? I swear, I feel it but can't get to it.
Or maybe he's just too far gone, I don't fucking know.
"Dex, please," I sob, cradling his faltering body in my arms, blood soaking my flimsy clothes.
His rasping, whispered response is so quiet, I barely catch it. "Tell my girls I love them, and I'm sorry I broke my promise to make it home." He goes limp, and I frantically check for a pulse I don't find, still begging the magic to help him.
"Well, that's unfortunate," Mishtarr announces casually. "Let's get going, shall we?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you? He has a family, and you took him away from them, for what?" I search the ground for my discarded dagger, wanting nothing more than to drive it through her spine. Fuck the consequences.
"Bind her hands," Reg says, throwing a length of black cord from his pocket to his companion. "Doesn't look like much of a fighter, and she used her Ritual dagger to stab me, so she’s got no magic." He glowers in my direction. "Better to be safe than sorry, though."
The woman catches the cord, steps toward me, and I know I can't let her get it around my wrists, or I’m done.
I look down at the kind man I’ve known my whole life, picture the callous expression twisting her face as she cut his life away, cruelly stealing him from two little girls who loved him dearly.
Icy fury lashes me.
Every cell in my body vibrates with glacial wrath.
I wish she could feel a fraction of the agony she just caused without care, like he was nothing.
The bloodcurdling cry scraping up my throat sounds more animal than mortal.
When I look up, ready to do whatever’s necessary to stop that woman from putting her hands on me again, mine fly to my mouth, stifling a shocked gasp.
Thick, frosty vines weave up from the cracks in the cobblestones, winding their way around her legs and racing up her torso, squeezing tight.
Long, vicious barbs and hooked thorns shoot from the twisting ropes, shredding skin, embedding in flesh, muffling her screams before she can do more than open her mouth.
There isn't time for her to conjure so much as a basic shield before she's entirely encased in layers of dripping ice.
Frozen solid, mid-step. I stare, transfixed, as the clear bindings turn opaque in front of her nose and mouth as she unsuccessfully fights for breath.
Her companion shouts in horror and races for her, frantically trying to break through her prison with a conjured hammer.
But when the weapon clashes with the glimmering cage, the entire block shatters into gory pieces of pulpy flesh, crimson blood, and splinters of bone.
I barely register another life disintegrating. She chose this path for herself.
Reg wheels on me, screaming obscenities as he grabs my bloody dagger from the ground and lifts it to my jaw. “Whatever you just did, I’m about to make you regret it.” He lunges for me just as a familiar silvery shield springs up between us. He slams into it, crashing away with a grunt.
Hands grip my shoulders with a gentleness that's jarring after such brutal violence.
"Aly, how bad are you hurt?" Zenn's voice is low and tense as he looks me over.
I force myself to meet his concerned gaze without the words to answer.
His eyes flare when he sees my bloody face and hands, rage emanating from him as he takes in the carnage and Dexil's limp body at my feet. Stepping forward, the man who’s become my fiercest protector bows his head in acknowledgement of the fatherly one who used to hold that role before stalking after a pleading, incoherent Reg trying to stumble away.
"I didn't know she was a golden. We never would've touched her," he whines, shooting me a furious glare.
The second he confesses to putting his hands on me, Zenn loses control, slamming his boot into the other man's legs, knocking his knees out from under him and grasping his head in both hands as soon as he hits the cobblestones.
"She's a fucking person, you piece of shit.
That should be reason enough." With one sharp twist, he snaps Reg's neck with a resounding crack.
The sound shatters my last tether, and I crumple, hot tears I can't hold in spilling down my cheeks. I don't make it to the ground; Zenn catches me, pulling me against his chest.
"I'm bleeding," I protest weakly. He only tightens his hold. "And you killed him."
"I had to. He held a knife to your throat."
"Thank you," I manage to choke out. I don’t have a drop of grief or regret for either of the dead monsters in this alley. Not when all I can think about is Dex, and his wife and girls, waiting for a reunion they'll never get.
Standing under the stream of water long since turned chilled and clear, I stare at the grate in the smooth stone floor, still seeing puddles of red. My numb recollections of the last few hours are vague.
Waiting for night to fall so the blood stains covering my cream-colored clothes would be less visible.
Sliding Dex's ritual dagger out of his belt and into my pocket.
Crawling away from the bodies to vomit when Zenn insisted on burning them.
Managing a sliver of gratitude he shielded us from the smell and sounds as he did.
Stumbling back to the apartment, ignoring the shock and bruises on Hendrix and Jeska's faces, leaving Zenn to fill in the gaps of what happened. Wishing the memories would spiral down the drain too. Instead, I shove them deep down, to be examined later.
Zenn knocks, calling me to dinner. I have no appetite and would avoid everything and everyone if there weren’t things we have to discuss.
Walking into the combined living and dining area, it takes all my willpower not to look at the low bed in the corner of the room.
Empty and useless, exactly the way I feel.
My eyes catch on an elegant black suit jacket hanging on the rod above the window, then the open box on the corner of the table, where two elaborate silver eye masks sit nestled on a bed of green velvet.
"Have we implemented a new dress code? I'm not sure I meet it.
" I gesture at my loose sleep clothes in a weak attempt at humor.
The others stare at me, varying degrees of concern on their bruised and battered faces.
Zenn told me they were jumped by a group of men who couldn't resist the loaded bags after a stop at the markets.
They were outnumbered, so it took a while to knock half the men out and scare the rest away, which was when Aven told him, through Witt, that I needed help.
"This came from my contact while you were getting cleaned up," Zenn says, handing me a thick white envelope.
"Looks like we're going to a ball. It's our best chance to get into the city so I can talk to Redson properly and we can look for Bri.
" As he's explaining, I slide the invitation out to read the details, two polished amber gemstones clattering to the table next to the open box.
I raise a brow in question, and Jeska clarifies, "They're tokens to get in. Most of the guests already live within the castle grounds, so we need these for access."
"Only two? And who's Sir Devenal?" The name on the card means nothing to me.
"One of the nobles currently stationed at their outpost near the border, who apparently decided not to travel all that way for drunken revelry.
And yes, only the two tokens. Trying to get them for all four of us would have risked drawing too much attention," Zenn replies, beckoning for me to sit next to him, where there's a plate of potatoes, salad, and steamed fish waiting.
I drop into the chair, and he tugs it close to his.
I don't even think he realizes he does it.
Like it was an instinct. "I'll take Devenal’s place, and if you're up for it, you'll be my escort.
We'll be masked—not that Redson thinks we'll have any issues, as long as we have the gems and the invite to hand over at the gate. "
Nodding, I force myself to take a bite of food, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
"He's got intel about the white soil to share and may know something about your sister.
As a senior advisor, he'll have to stay glued to Prince Errik's side for the next week, though.
So, the only time Redson will be available without raising suspicion is when the prince is otherwise engaged.
Either we wait a week until the celebrations are done and Redson can get away, or we occupy the prince.
Obviously, we don't want to wait, so we came up with a plan to get close to him tomorrow that requires your help. "
Jeska chimes in, giving her Commander a chance to eat.
"Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous. Everyone being busy with the party will give me and Hendrix a great opportunity to look around and subtly ask some of the staff about your sister.
People in a rush are quick to give answers to get you to leave them alone. "
"So you are coming? How will you get in if we only have two tokens?"
Hendrix grins. "We're not missing out on all the fun.
We'll be uncomfortably crushed inside the seats of the wagon while you're traveling up the hill in style.
Then again, I've seen my fair share of corsets in action, so I know your vital organs will be uncomfortably crushed too, just by a ballgown.”
My head whips to Zenn, who tries and fails to look nonchalant. "A ballgown?"
"What did you think you were going to wear to a ball?"