“Show yourself,” I snarled.
Wind rolled the tall grass, and for a moment, all was still. Then the shadow of a sitting figure appeared—a boy with a head of dark curls—hidden in the field, waiting for my return.
I found breath enough to say a single word. “Calix.”
20
NEIRIN
“What are you doing here?”I stepped forward, closing the short distance between us, and grasped the messenger by the collar of his shirt.
Calix’s body shuddered, his eyes flickered, and the charge in the air intensified.Dammit.
Releasing my hold on him, I let him fall to the ground and turned my back. The child made a faint sound as he fell, and the charge held. Nothing I was not accustomed to. Gazing up and down the nearby path to assure no one was coming or going, I huffed a breath and drew back my hood, letting the smoke-tainted breeze ruffle my hair.
At the dip of the valley along the river’s edge, the buildings continued to burn. The routiers and soldiers who had come with intentions of fighting off raiders had since turned to aiding the farmers with their buckets of water, having found no enemy to wield their swords against.
“Why did you start the fires?” I asked, tone level, as I turned back to the boy.
Calix stood and shuddered again. The cobalt of his eyes flickered black, and static crackled, but it was clear the boy was restraining himself. And, in truth, he was doing a fairly decentjob of it for a child of his age who had likely not been fed in nearly a fortnight. It was harder the younger they were. They needed the blood more frequently to sustain control.
“It was meant to draw you out,” Calix replied, his tone listless. Though usually composed, the boy made no attempt to straighten his shirt or dust the debris of dirt and dried grasses from his pants. Dark shadows beneath his eyes told of his state. He would not last much longer.
“The others, do they fare worse than you?”
“The two new boys are probably both dead, taken out into the woods. We have not seen them since. They were unstable.” Calix spoke with his typical trained detachment.
It was not a surprise. Their control was weak, and their need was high and frequent. The newest of the children could sometimes feed as often as twice a day in the early weeks, as they adjusted.
“The others?” I asked.
Sucking in one of his cheeks and chewing it, Calix cast his eyes down. “Astraea has us contained in the cellar room where we will not be of danger to anyone aside from each other. Two days after the festival, she selected those of us who were faring the best and sent us out to find you.”
“Why did you think a fire would draw me out?”
He raised his eyes again, and the displaced coolness returned to them. The boy looked beyond me to the burning farmsteads. “It was the Queen’s orders. Create a scene without causing lasting damage to anything vital. She believed your training as a guard would be too strong to allow you to resist engaging on some level.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I released a breath. Through my worries over Harlan and the threat that lay within the castle walls, I’d given little thought to Astraea or her messengers, to theeffects my absence would have on them. “Does Rion know of the Queen’s actions?”
Furrowing his brows faintly, Calix shook his head. “I do not believe so.”
“She needs me to return,” I stated, my mind beginning to work around how I could use this to my advantage. “What does she offer?”
Without further response, Calix held out a package wrapped with thick paper and tied. The lack of a wax seal was a statement. The faith Astraea held in her messengers was absolute, for they relied on her, and she used this as a method to control them.
Untying the bindings, I opened the package. Within I found a letter and two silver canins. The letter, written in rich black ink, bore the Queen’s signature at the bottom. As I read, Calix sat again, and I eyed him briefly over the paper. The boy’s dark lashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his eyes open; he was using all his energy to control his magic. I swallowed and returned my attention to the note.
“I will not return for this,” I said, pocketing the coins and tossing the letter back to Calix.
Despite his apparent weariness, the boy caught and folded it. Tucking it into his shirt, he sighed, the sound heavy. A muscle at his jaw flexed. Shaking my head, I turned my attention to the mare and drew up my hood.
“What did the letter say?”
Looking over my shoulder to the boy, I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to keep your questions to yourself?”
“My friends will die,” he said, voice meeker than before.
Of course, the runt would choose this moment to show he had a soul. Huffing an exhale, I turned back to him. “She proposes safe passage to her country house and a life lived out there where I can continue to offer—”
