The alleyway opened into the wide port, exposing several levels of docks stacked on top of each other for both smaller and larger cargo ships. The mid-sized vessel I’d seen from a distance towered over the unloading dock, the crest of Mysthelm waving on their dark blue sail—a tree with four branches and a sword and sickle crossed at the trunk.
My hackles immediately rose. There were far too many workers. Firelight shone off several gleaming silver masks that some of the men wore, and I caught the familiar shape of a lion’s face embedded in them.
Scarven’s personal guard.
They weren’t supposed to be here yet. We planned ourintercept point perfectly—before the delivery was set and in between guard rotations. But here they were, littering the entire port.
“Tessa, we’ve been compromised. Fall back,” I hissed to my third. “They can’t know we’re here.”
“I got it, Boss,” she cut in. “You stay. I’m not leaving until we find out what’s on that ship.”
I growled in response. “Tessa, I swear, if you?—”
She gave me a quick wink before bursting into a sprint and shifting mid-air, her long, black locks disappearing into fur, her lithe legs shortening to paws. She landed on top of a low awning as a small cat, then rushed to the ground and took off toward the ship. Tessa had the unique ability to range the size of her Shifter form, from something as tiny as a housecat to a raging lion. It was particularly useful for getting into places she didn’t belong.
I pulled my hood tighter over my face. “Remind me to have a littlechatwith her later.”
Everett grunted. “Nox, you can’t?—”
I cut him off. “Is your illusion holding?”
There was a pause, and he sighed. “Yes.”
“Good. Don’t let it fall, or we die. No pressure.” I tracked Tessa’s shadow nearing the Mysthelm ship. “I’m going after her.”
9
Devora
Inursed my wounded pride for the better part of the day, still reeling that Nox had thenerveto throw me over his shoulder the night before like I was nothing more than a sack of flour. Like I was hisproperty.
The thought made my jaw clench as I traipsed back down the steps of my tower and to the library, the sun almost fully set behind the towering mountains in the west. After months of nothing but history books and almanacs, I was ready for a change of pace.
I ran into a few maids on my way to the third floor, but no other residents made an appearance. I spent a couple of hours browsing the books, reading the first chapters of some, then switching them out if I wasn’t in the mood. I’d never had access to this many books before. Sure, the wealthy families I worked for had tons of them, but there was never much time for hobbies, and I wouldn’t have been allowed to touch half of them anyway.
BeforeI landed my first big job with Lady Reaux’s household, the only print I read was the Wanted posters hanging outside taverns.
The orphanage I was taken to after being found on Mysthelm’s shores didn’t hold the fondest of memories for me, but there wasone nurse who took compassion on me: Miss Leigh. I was the most troublesome of the lot, always sneaking into the kitchen, drawing on kid’s faces in the dark, getting my head stuck in the banister trying to spy on the adults. But Miss Leigh took me under her wing. She taught me to read and write, giving me direction for the stray thoughts running loose in my head instead of scolding me and sending me away without dinner.
Books were a solace now. A way to escape the truths of my life and dive into someone else’s fantasies.
But as much as I tried to concentrate on the stories in front of me, a deep, sultry voice with a hint of a growl kept permeating my thoughts.
I’d been right—hedidhave a secret operation going on. And many more people lived here than I anticipated. I could hear them on the lower floors, the sounds of footsteps and slamming doors and clattering silverware from a nearby dining room. As the evening bled into night, the sounds dimmed, the occasional door creaking shut or whispered conversations from people outside the library being the only signs of life.
One hundred and eighty-two children rescued. That was what Nox said last night. He spoke of them as if he knew them—the ones with their art projects plastered to the walls, their families and lives and trauma reflecting in his eyes. It certainly wasn’t what I had expected.
Then again, I barely knew him. Perhaps he was right, and I was too quick to assume I knew everything. But that didn’t negate the other things I’d heard. How he’d hurt some innocent Lightbender on thathorribleman’s orders, and it didn’t seem like it was the first time.
I prided myself on my observance, my ability to read between the lines and piece things together that others may not want me to see. It was a skill developed in childhood, bred by curiosity and loneliness and the need to understand when nothing in my life was understandable.
But even I found it difficult toreconcile all the sides of this dragon Shifter. His charm and charisma with those around him, his anger and disdain with me. The fact that his sole mission seemed to be rescuing others from such a horrid fate, and yet he was quick to draw a blade and snuff out someone’s life.
I puzzled through the enigma that was Nox Duma while half of my attention was on the Alchemy book I’d chosen to keep me occupied, until my eyes strayed to the clock on the wall.
Half past ten.
I shut the book and put it back in its place, then crept to the only window in the vast room that overlooked the stables.
