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No, violence isn’t the way out of this.
“Fine,” I say, finally taking a sip of the wine just to prove to the man that I’m the one at ease, in control of the situation. “And if I was the runaway girl, then what? Do you intend to drag me back to Othian and turn me into the Crown? Because I assure you, I just left there, and on good terms with the Prince. So I doubt your bounty will go very far.”
To my surprise, the stranger doesn’t seem at all fazed by this revelation. “That’s fine. I don’t want you for your bounty. I want you for your partnership.”
I can’t help the shock from warping my face. “My partnership? My partnership in what, exactly?”
The stranger lowers his voice, though with the ruckus the faeries in the corner are making, I doubt it’s necessary. “Like I said earlier, what you call an infection, I call a Gift.”
My fingers tap against my knees. “Consider me in disagreement then,” I say, though my mind is flitting pages, turning through every person who knows about the parasite and trying to figure out which one is this stranger’s source.
As if reading my mind, he says, “Your friend Imogen can be quite talkative when she feels justified in her gossip.”
I roll my eyes. Of course Imogen, Ellie’s other, more bitter lady’s maid, would have been the one to sell all my information. She probably resents the Crown for not broadcasting it to all of Alondria.
I suppose that’s what I get for using her perfume without asking.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what you call it, I don’t have it anymore, so I’m afraid you would find our partnership a bit one-sided,” I say.
The stranger frowns, truly frowns, for the first time. “What do you mean, you don’t have it anymore?”
“Exactly what I said.”
He gives me a wry look and clasps his fingers together. “Well, then, where did it go?”
I fall silent for a moment, contemplating the wisdom of telling this stranger the truth. On the one hand, I don’t trust him. For all I know, he wants the parasite for himself and had planned on cutting it out of me with a hunting knife as soon as he got me alone. Clearly, he doesn’t understand how the parasite works, otherwise he wouldn’t have believed that the parasite could possibly be gone while I still breathe. On the other hand, if his plan is to steal the parasite, perhaps he’ll try to cut it straight out of Abra if he gets the chance.
And I can’t say I’m opposed to that outcome.
I pat his hand condescendingly and say, “You seem like an intelligent guy. Why don’t you figure it out for yourself?”
I expect him to argue, but he doesn’t. Clearly, he’s fairly confident in his own cleverness.
“Well,” I say, standing from my stool, “if you don’t mind, I’ve had a long night, and I plan to catch up on some lost sleep. It’s been such a pleasant coincidence meeting you,” I say, with as much saccharine disingenuity as I can muster.
His eyes, which had been murky and far off, snap back into place. “Oh, I don’t believe in coincidence,” he says. “I believe the Fates place opportunities in our paths so we can grab onto them.”
I scoff. “And what if grabbing at your opportunity gets in the way of someone else’s?”
His lips twist into the most stunningly beautiful smile I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness. “Then it’s a good thing the Fates like me better than everyone else.”
My rest is fitful.The inn room is pitch-black thanks to the lack of windows, but every second that passes is another that could be Nox’s last.
I’m gonethe moment the last rays of sunlight descend over the snowcapped mountaintops, sprinting across the Serpentine, my legs fueled by desperation and anxiety and magic.
When I catch a glimpse of a dark-haired man cresting a nearby hill, my sleep-deprived mind jumps straight to suspicion, and I wonder if the stranger at the inn went ahead, thinking to catch me on an empty section of the road.
But then moonlight highlights the shadows under the stranger’s eyes, and I realize it’s not a stranger at all.
It’s Nox.
CHAPTER56
BLAISE
For a moment, I don’t trust my eyes, sure Nox is simply a mirage I’ve conjured in my desperation to get to him.
I’m so good at imagining things, after all.
