24. Chapter Twenty-Four #2
I fidgeted with my fingers and refused to meet his stare. “I may have conducted an experiment on one of my victims a few years back for a toxicology Scholar.” I tilted my head and gazed up at Nikan with an innocent look.
His eyes widened in horror.
“For the love of Xar, it wasn’t that bad. It was for knowledge.”
“I’m sure it was.” Nikan stood and shook his head. He gestured to the dead male. “This is bad. Really bad.” Nikan said as he walked over to the small, rickety desk. “No one uses the Onyx’s poison as a weapon besides you. It makes it look like you did it.”
“My work doesn’t look like this. Anyone who knows it well enough to recognize it would realize the differences.
I’m much more merciful, opting for a quick death rather than dragging it out, where they would have time to get help.
Not to mention, no one knows it’s me who uses it.
They just know it’s a Roav thing. I doubt they even know it’s only a single person.
” I stood to face Nikan. He was rummaging through the papers on the desk.
“He’s definitely our anonymous seller,” he said holding up a sheet of paper with the Morah emblem stamped at the bottom. “This is the proof of purchase and payment from the intake Scholar.”
“Is there anything else in there? Anything at all about where he got the book in the first place?”
“No. I don’t see anything indicating that. But I think his name was Moury,” Nikan said, looking down at me with a worrisome expression.
“We need to figure out who else knew about the book. It’s likely that wherever it came from was also who took it from Morah. They probably came for him first, extracted the location, then killed him,” I stated.
Something so big and so threatening to our realm lay within the pages of a single book. I wanted to curse the Spirits for keeping the Gods from interfering.
“That leaves us with no leads,” Nikan sighed.
I nodded slowly as I contemplated this information.
“Meet me on the outskirts of the city in an hour,” I said as I turned to leave. I didn’t give Nikan the chance to speak before I slammed the door behind me and left.
I stopped my horse in front of a small, quaint home on the western end of the city.
I had always adored that house. Its limestone walls gave it a pleasing milky color that felt homey and welcoming.
Large bushes of flowers lined the base all around the exterior, and the door was dark cedar that gave a striking contrast to the brightness of the stone around it.
I tied up the gelding to the porch post and knocked on the wooden door after removing my mask, taking in a deep breath of that cedar scent.
I love that smell.
After a few moments, the door creaked open slightly. Through the crack a pair of emerald-green eyes shone back at me, squinting in a smile before the door opened fully. I grinned widely as Umana pulled me inside her home and embraced me.
Umana was a small female, shorter than me even. She was plump and kept herself and her clothes pristine. I wasn’t sure how old she was exactly, but I knew that she had to be close to a thousand. The surface of her skin was wrinkled, and she had trouble getting around. But her mind was sharp.
“Kya. My, it has been too long. Come in, come in.” She stepped aside and shut the door.
The inside was bright and warm. Umana didn’t clutter her home and had little in terms of furniture.
She preferred to keep her possessions to a minimum.
A small table for two in the kitchen and two comfortable chairs in the sitting area where I sat.
I glanced around and nothing seemed different from my last visit.
Few items decorated the shelves mounted to the walls and she had no paintings or drawings.
She lived a very simple life—or so it seemed.
“Now, what can I do for you, Kya the Worthy?” she said while offering me a hot cup of tea.
My eyebrows raised. “How did you know?” I had never allowed Umana to see my mark, and I had never told her. I told her a lot but never that. I wanted to have someone in my life that didn’t know. But I was surprised word had gotten out so soon.
“I may be old, but I’m no fool. I’ve known for years now that you bore the mark of the Trial.” She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her tea before continuing, “And since you’re here now, that means you survived. And the Gods would be fools for not deeming you Worthy.”
Ah, so she didn’t hear it from anyone in particular.
The wise old hag was usually always right.
I half removed my jacket to display the mark all the way up my shoulder.
Umana leaned forward to examine it, taking my arm in her hands and turning it to get a better look at the whole design.
She hummed to herself the entire time and I smiled with contentment.
“I’ve seen many marks in my lifetime but none such as this. Who chose you?” She lifted her eyes to meet mine.
“Kleio. ”
Umana made a sound like she wasn’t surprised. She released my arm and sat back in her chair. I gave her a questioning look, but she ignored it.
“So, I’ll ask again. What brings you here?”
“I need information about a book. A male named Moury had it and sold it to Morah.”
Umana may look like a sweet elderly female, but she was known for her knowledge. She was my contact here in Torx. She knew everything about everyone, it seemed. How she knew such things was anybody’s guess.
“If it’s already in the great library, why are you asking about it?” she asked over the lip of her cup.
“It was stolen. And I would like to know how Moury came into possession of it, so I can track down who might have taken it back.”
“Moury was a troubled male,” Umana sighed. “He became dependent upon the demid elixir and lost everything to it. He had a good heart and meant well but his mind was constantly fixed on how he could get more of the substance.”
A wretched concoction, demid was originally made by healers to help with a disease that made some lose their memories, but it was altered by those in the black market to cause a state of artificial euphoria.
If used long term, fae became highly addicted and nearly reliant on it.
More and more fae were falling to the elixir.
“As far as the book, all I know is that supposedly Moury found it on the beach at the northern end of Dusan,” she said.
“At the northern end of Dusan?” There wasn’t even a coastline at the northern end. Not since the Rip’s formation anyway.
“Apparently. But it was undamaged from the water.”
“What was he doing there? How do you know?” I questioned.
“I saw it, of course. Moury brought it here to see if I knew anyone who would buy such a book and I informed him that Morah was his best choice. I don’t know much outside of that, and I didn’t ask why he was in Dusan.”
“Hmm. Alright, thank you Umana.” I started to stand but stopped when she spoke again.
“Something else troubles you. What is it?”
I hesitated a moment, debating on if I should tell her of everything that was going on. I decided against it. She didn’t need to carry the weight of it as well.
I stood and offered a small smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
I had just stepped through the door when she called out from behind me, “Let that feeling inside lead you, Kya. It will bring you your fate.”
I shook my head and smiled as I closed the door and replaced my mask.
Crazy old dame .
The city center of Narh was busy in the evening.
Crowds of people filled the streets and I wove my way through as people bumped into my horse.
The gelding nickered when a child ran underneath him, giggling and squealing with delight.
Merchants sold cooked meats and fresh produce, nourishing the air with savory and sweet aromas.
Instruments sang melodic tunes, filling the atmosphere as people danced and spun to the music.
Apparently there was a celebration for their God, Cethar, who had not chosen a Worthy during the Trial, and Lord Dainos remaining their ruler.
I hid the Roav pin on my cloak and pulled my hood farther over my head, so that I could leisurely move my way through without being spotted.
I didn’t want to interrupt the blissful feel of the lively city.
The sun was setting, and a crisp breeze blew leaves across the stone road, heralding the approaching autumn season and promising cooler temperatures from summer’s heat.
I slowed my horse, wanting to absorb the joyful contentment of the night for just a little longer before returning to the grimness of reality.
Even with so much corruption in the world, there was still the promise of life.
I slowly made my way to the other end of the street. The crowds started to dissipate the farther away I got. The noise of the people chatting and the music grew faint.
It was too quiet.
I wasn’t that far from the celebration, and there were people still around me.
But everything slowly went silent. I got off my horse and stood on the street.
I didn’t even hear my boots hitting the stone, and I felt nothing with my terbis—except something in the distance.
Then I noticed that I could no longer scent the food or the sweat of my horse.
What is happening?
I looked around at the people passing, seemingly unaffected.
Their mouths were moving but I heard nothing.
Steam and smoke rose into the air from the merchants cooking, but I couldn’t smell it.
My braid blew over my shoulder and my horse’s mane swayed in the breeze, but I couldn’t feel the bite of the crisp wind on my face.
My breathing quickened, and my heart began to race. I could hear slow thumping in my ears. I placed my hand over my chest, now burning unbearably, and felt fast beats opposite of the slow thuds pulsing in my head.
Deep, even breaths sounded, not at all like my panicked ones.
My skin felt energized, as if electricity was flowing through me.
I started to smell something faint and familiar—cedar and bergamot and something else.
The breaths I could hear and the heartbeats I could feel were getting louder and faster, nearly matching mine. It was calling to me.
Driven by another force, I wove my way through the street, abandoning my horse and ignoring the crowd.
I didn’t know where I was going, but somehow, I knew exactly how to get there.
I couldn’t stop, the force inside, luring me to where I was going like a rope pulling me through the water. I couldn’t stop it.
I started running, the beating in my head getting louder and louder, more erratic. Compelled by the burning inside of me, I needed to find what it was drawing me toward. I turned down an alley filled with shadows, too dark for the night not yet reached.
Suddenly, the burning stopped.
My eyes locked onto another’s, ones of bright silver that seemed to glow. It was like I knew exactly where to look in the inky blackness that now opened and consumed me as I stepped closer.
As if the world around me fell away, all I could see was him, and my breathing stopped.
The male was tall, my head not high enough to come over his shoulders. His murky black hair was ruffled against the tanned skin of his forehead and fell just above his thick eyebrows. His broad frame was donned in black leathers that were tight against his muscular body.
“It’s you…” His voice was a strained whisper. But it was as soothing as the shadows around us, speaking to my very soul.
My breath rushed back into me at the sound. That scent of cedar and bergamot exuded from him and invaded my nostrils, causing my eyes to roll in the back of my head. Heat pooled in my lower belly. The urge to be even closer to him was overwhelming and irresistible.
I took a step forward but stopped suddenly when he braced an arm against the stone wall of the building and his nostrils flared. His other hand was clenched into a fist. His eyes were locked on mine and his face looked pained. As if he were holding himself back.
A moment of clarity hit me and my eyes widened.
He’s the Lord from the Trial.
I felt it then. It all made sense, the burning, the drive, the dream, the intoxicating scent…
of him. My body trembled, and my breath was shaky and erratic.
I knew what this was. I had read about it, dreamt of it, and hoped for it.
But a Lord, another Worthy? One that likely saw me as a threat to be eliminated?
This can’t be happening .
Yet, his eyes pleaded with me as he snarled one word. One word that made my chest twist and shattered those childish dreams.
“Run.”
For less than a heartbeat, I hesitated. Then, not knowing what else to do, I did exactly as he demanded—I ran.
My arms pumped and my feet slapped the ground as I ran as hard as I could, pushing myself to go faster and faster.
Tears bit at my eyes and I wanted to blame it on the wind, but I knew better.
The shadows followed me through the streets, licking at my heels.
I shoved through the throngs of people bustling about in the street.
Finding my horse, I leapt on top of him.
I gripped the reins tightly and dug my heels into the gelding’s flank, and he galloped through the town to the outskirts where my senses returned and the shadows finally receded.
I pushed my horse faster still until we approached Nikan who was waiting next to Odarum.
The moonslight shone off the Spirit animal, creating a silhouette of his black form against the darkness around him. I jumped off my moving horse and stomped my way to Odarum, glaring at him with a fierceness that made him startle.
“Did you know?” I demanded in a near scream .
“Know what?” he questioned.
“That I have a fucking mate,” I yelled through my mind. My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. Tears streamed down my face in anger or fear or—
“Does he know what? What’s going on, Kya? What’s he saying?” Nikan rushed over, his face twisted with concern.
Odarum dropped his head to be level with mine, his head so close I could almost touch it.
“Yes,” he said in a calm yet lethal voice. “I know. I have known for some time. It is not my place to interfere. This should not be surprising to you.”
My body shook, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Of course he wouldn’t have told me. He can’t.
“Kya?” Nikan prodded.
“Nothing. Let’s go,” I said, voice clipped.
My mate. My mate is a Lord. And he rejected me. Told me to run.
“Wha—” he started.
I spun on my heel and walked away. I mounted my horse and trotted off through the field, not waiting to see if Nikan and Odarum followed.