I pushed away from the table, and my chair smacked into the back wall. “Good night.”
Noc blinked, miniscule creases in his forehead momentarily giving the impression of confusion. I knew otherwise. He was craftier than I’d realized. Spinning on my heels, I didn’t give him a chance to speak, and I stormed toward the stairs to feign sleep before he could return.
Eight
Noc
We left early the next morning on five Zeelahs. Judging by Leena’s approving nod, we’d made the right decision in purchasing them over the horses. Not that she would admit it. The only acknowledgment she gave me came in the form of a handful of unnecessary bits as she insisted she pay for her own mare.
Had she been one of my assassins, I would have ordered her to keep her funds. It was my job as guild master to provide basic needs for jobs—food, shelter, and in this case, travel accommodations. Whatever leftover bits remained after the monthly collections rolled in went to the assassins who worked, and their money was theirs to spend.
The oath on my inner wrist simmered. I did what I could to avoid handing bounties out to those who couldn’t stomach the work. Gave them tasks in our home so they could provide for Cruor in another fashion. But sometimes, I didn’t have a choice. Even cooks and gardeners had to get their hands bloody from time to time.
But Leena was none of those things, and so when she’d curled my fingers over a pile of gleaming silver chips, I could only stare in shock. She’d mounted her Zeelah with ease and led her into a canter, leaving me rooted in place to catch Calem’s hushed snickering.
Since that moment, nothing. Save the steady cadence of beating hooves against soft dirt, we rode in silence well into evening. The road to Ortega Key was a constant backdrop of massive moss-ridden trees. The branches of willows, pines, and firs reached above us, threading together through a sea of green leaves and creating a canopy that blocked out the sky.
I hadn’t meant to offend her, but I had, and there was a small knife worming in my gut because of it. A stab of guilt that shouldn’t have been there. Usually, Kost was the only person who could challenge me wit for wit. So when she’d bested me with that beast question, I made it a point to keep going. To learn more. I’d gotten so wrapped up in our game that’d I’d failed to think before asking about her home. Curiosity had blurred the lines of detachment, and I’d gone a step too far. For both of us.
I needed to speed up this process, get my men their beasts, find me a cure, and send us home.
Moonlight broke through a clearing in the treetops, basking a hidden meadow in pale glow. The soft calls of nightingales intermingled with the strained chirps of insects so vastly different from the cacophony of bone-shattering whines in the Kitska Forest. Here, the darkness was fainter—like weakened smoke rather than a smearing of black ink.
“Let’s make camp.” Kost broke away first, steering his mount into the open air before sliding off and leading him to a far tree.
We followed suit, looping reins around trees and giving our mounts food and water. Within minutes, Ozias, Kost, and Calem set to work on the tents, and Leena stared listlessly into the night. Loose hairs framed the angles of her face, and a strange urge to brush them away jolted through my fingers.
“Noc, dinner?” Kost stared through me, and I nodded, turning away from the group to find game in the woods. Shadows sprung to life at my ankles and crept up my legs, enveloping me in darkness. I snuck through Lightwood Forest without making a sound.
Some say Zane, the first of our kind, acquired the power to control the darkness when he ripped the god of death’s cloak and came back with it fisted in his hand. The material had diffused into his skin, and a portion of death’s endless realm became his to control.
And while there were some at Cruor who found the wasteland of darkness terrifying, the shadows were my home—a soothing, familiar relief that blanketed out the rest of the world. Here, I could breathe. Think. Assess. Everything was precise and finite—no varying shades of color to paint a brighter picture when there wasn’t one to be seen in the first place. The darkness was even tender in its welcome. Like standing underneath a gentle stream without actually getting wet.
Killing comes easy when you leave no trace.I brought my focus back and searched for game. Five rabbits gave their lives to my swift hands. No more than what we needed. I peeled back the shadows a fraction, seeing reality as the gods intended without revealing myself. I wanted to linger a moment longer in my sanctuary. Drifting along the outskirts of our camp, I stepped around gnarled roots and patches of violet toadstools. Plumes of green spores and dust skirted over the forest floor. Harmless, but they reflected the light of the moon like tiny emeralds in the night.
Leena and Ozias’s voices captured my attention before they came into view. Hushed whispers were barely audible on the evening breeze, but it was enough for my ears. I should have left them alone. Should’ve walked away or made my presence known. But I wanted to know things about her without putting myself on display. Last night’s dinner had been too much. She was too intriguing for her own good. Formyown good. Disarming in the way she smiled and made me forget about the problems that came with forming deeper connections.
“How did Noc get to be the leader of Cruor?” Leena pressed kindling flush to her chest and peered into the darkness. I swear she saw right through me. She had the kind of stare that threatened to break apart the rules of our universe. My stomach churned.
Ozias paused, kneeling to unearth a fistful of edible mushrooms at his feet. “The former guild master, Talmage, named him leader before he passed.”
“How does that work?”
Such curiosity in her voice, and yet I’d remained hidden for the hopes of learning about her, not to have Ozias spill details about me.
Before he could reveal more, I emerged from the shadows. “We already had our game of questions.”
Spinning on her heels, she showered the earth in a layer of branches and twigs. “Gods, you scared me.” Her chest heaved, and I kept my gaze steady. Controlled.
“So jumpy.”
She hissed, scooping up the kindling and turning her back on me. “I think you’ve done enough prying lately.” Without so much as a second glance, she stormed back to camp.
Ozias cleared his throat. “Are those rabbits for dinner?”
I nodded, tossing them his way and following him back to the fire. Ozias sprang to life around food, his surprisingly dexterous hands prepping the rabbits and mushrooms with ease. He splattered oil in a skillet, setting it on blazing coals, and rotated the game on a makeshift spit. His passion for cooking, even in the restricted setting of the woods, was admirable.
Dead air stretched between us as we ate. I hadn’t realized how much I’d enjoyed Leena’s banter until I was met by a stone wall of silence. Her sharp wit and eagerness to try to outsmart me. She could’ve, had she only known what to ask. If she had dared to question who I had been before, the kind of life I used to lead, I would have been forced to lie.
