“Hello, darling,” the barmaid says as she saunters towards me, her dark brown hair braided over one shoulder. “What are you drinking tonight?”
“A mug of ale.” She smiles, moving closer as her fingers drag along my arm. I snap a hand out to catch her wrist, gently plucking her fingers off me. “Justthe ale.” She gives a fake pout but spins to head towards the bartender. Leaning my elbows on the table, I look out over the room, scanning the faces and hoping one of them strikes me as familiar.
Off duty guards are spread out—some only identifiable by the weapon strapped down their backs, while others are still dressed in their full leather armor. It immediately makes me think of Cass. My best friend has only been gone for a week, but I feel his absence acutely. What he and Daje and Elora are doing is crucial, and I can only hope that my magic begins strengthening soon, or their effort might be for nothing.
The barmaid returns, placing a frothing mug of ale down. I drop more than enough money to cover my drink onto the table for her, nodding in thanks. After she leaves, I return to scanning the patrons, hoping that, with any luck, the night might end in my favor.
Chapter Eighty: Nox
“Comeon,MysteriousOne,put your next card down already.” The command comes from the disheveled man across from me, his glassy gaze fixated on the cards I hold. The nickname had come when I refused to remove my hood, the “s’s” slurring on his drunken tongue as spectators chuckle.
After spending most of the night scouting the main part of the tavern with no luck, I migrated to a smaller room where buy-in card games were taking place. I had moved from table to table, listening for that voice only to be disappointed. Eyeing my cards, I pluck out two that will give me the highest value match to those on the table and lay them down. The man across from me curses at my victory as he tosses his cards down, but the victory is worthless, as my time here hasn’t yielded the one thing I hoped for. Scooping up my winnings, I grit my teeth at the pain shooting down my back as I stand from my chair. Waiting for it to subside, I float my gaze around the room. What would Rhea think of a tavern like this? I am sure she has never seen anythinglike it, and I can practically picture the way she would blush, how her eyes would devour every interaction with piqued interest.
Gods, I fuckingmissher.
Though pain still throbs with each breath I take, the failure of the evening propels me forward as I weave past tables and the men gathered around them. I’m halfway to the door when someone steps abruptly in front of me, his shoulder smacking into my chest and causing me to stumble. He turns, hand bracing my arm while his own feet falter. “Sorry, friend. Got a little excited about my winning hand.”
The sounds of the tavern come to a halt, a chill rolling up my spine. My knees lock, every muscle trembling as recognition barrels through me. Knowing my hood will cloak the top half of my face in shadows, I lift my gaze from to his face, where bloodshot gray eyes are framed by strands of black hair. His lips tip in a smirk, even as one brow lifts.
“Oh, come on, man. It was an accident. Surely not worth holding a grudge over.” He gives me a playful shake before releasing me, prepared to step back to his game.Does he really not recognize me? I had replayed this moment over and over again, sure that when I finally came face to face with the man who had taunted me with Rhea’s diary, who had kept me from getting to her, he would at leastrememberme. That he would look into my eyes and know that his reckoning had come.
Shooting my hand out, I squeeze onto his arm, halting him from moving any farther. Scraps of magic stir as fragments of a memory taunt me.
The forest is drenched in rain, wet leaves sticking to my boots. Pain flares at the back of my head, and everything goes black.
His eyes flare wide as he attempts to tug out of my hold.
A hard surface digging into my back, the sound of whistling piercing the air. Dark gray eyes.
“You should probably let go before we have a problem.”
I can’t move. Foreign hands grip the ropes of my stretcher.“Time to go back home.”
Each breath I take is measured, my anger rising and baiting me to act on it. My freehand reaches back for one of the blades strapped to my belt but before my fingers can squeeze around the hilt, the man pulls out of my hold. It breaks the spell of my fury, allowing me to see through my anger. Iwillget the information I need from him. But not here. Not yet.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he shouts, drawing curious gazes in our direction.
“There’s no problem,” I murmur, my fingers curling in towards my palms. “Have a good night.”
He huffs a breath but returns to his table, our interaction all but forgotten in favor of more ale and a new round of cards. Keeping my head down, I hail the same barmaid as earlier.
Her hip juts out as she looks me over. “Yes?”
I hold the pouch containing my winnings out for her to see, gesturing with my head back to the table where the guard is sitting. “That man with the dark hair, do you know what his name is?”
She narrows her eyes in either curiosity or amusement—it’s hard to tell with the way her whole face scrunches with the movement—before she looks over my shoulder. My hand holding the pouch shakes, making the coins within jingle. She swipes it quickly, weighing its contents before a small grin lifts her lips. “That’s Stephan. He’s here almost every week. Sometimes, he disappears for a bit but always shows back up.”
“I appreciate your discretion,” I tell her, ignoring her wink as I brush past her towards the exit. Cool night air shocks some awareness into me, every instinct roaring to turn back around, to snatch the guard from where he is sitting and enact the vengeance that has been slowly burning me from within.
Stephan.The name doesn’t ring any bells, and without Daje or Cass here, I’ll have to be creative with narrowing down which section of the guard he is in without giving myself away. Darting quickly into a thick gathering of trees, I drop my hood, running a hand through my hair and wiping the sweat gathered on my brow off on my forearm. Squatting between two trees, I reach into my pocket and grab the small vile of pink liquid Galen had given me for my pain. Uncorking it, I down it in one gulp before leaning against a trunk as I settle in and wait for Stephan to exit the tavern, a plan slowly forming in my head.
Dawn has nearly broken by the time Stephan hobbles from the tavern. I keep my steps light as I follow after him, hiding behind trees while he walks a path through the forest. The tincture has all but worn off, and without sleeping at all, I worry I’m not being as quiet as I need to be. But if Stephan suspects someone is following him, he doesn’t show it. And with the way he wobbles, I doubt he’s aware of anything beyond getting home. He follows a small trail into a cluster of houses tucked into banya trees, smoke already billowing from some as warm lights glow from within.
Stephan’s steps slow to a stop in front of a white and green home, his movements clumsy as he retrieves a key to unlock the door and goes inside. I make note of which house is his before I turn and begin my journey back. Vengeance has never been a powerful motivator for me before, but now it sings at the possibility of finally getting some retribution. I’ll make him tell me everything he knows, and when I’m done, when I’ve wrung him of all his secrets, I’ll show him just how little magic or strength have to do with being powerful. With beingterrifying.
King Dolian couldn’t have known that, when he took the one person I love most in this world, he effectively pushed me past the imaginary line of morality I had used to keep myself in check. Whatever I do, whatever Ibecome, will be the direct consequence of that, and when the day that I can kill him as slowly and methodically as he deserves finally arrives, there will be no sweeter vengeance.
“Where thefuckhave you been?” Bahira’s tone is jarring, and it temporarily knocks me from the hazy, pain-induced stupor I’m in when I enter my sitting room. “Andwhatare you wearing?”
