‘And I accept.’ I looked around. ‘If anyone else wishes to become Chapter Master, you have until tomorrow to register, then the challenge will begin,’ I said, turning to Boyan, who’d observed my interaction with the chapter. When I noticed his frown, uneasiness built in my core. Something was amiss, and when I looked around, I realised that the Brotherhood’s executioner had disappeared from the dining hall.
‘Please excuse me,’ I said, pulling away and marching towards the door despite the people trying to talk to me. As soon as I was outside, I started running, hoping I wasn’t too late. A heavy thud and several muffled grunts reached my ears before I stumbled upon the executioner, bent over Tymon’s body, knife already in hand. ‘Stop right now!’ I yelled, hoping the blood running over Tymon’s chest wasn’t from a fatal wound.
‘Boyan’s orders, Nightshade,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Just a precaution to prevent his rise as an upiór. As soon as I remove the heart and separate his head, you can have the rest.’
‘You really want me to make you?’ I asked, flipping open my vambrace, poisoned steel blades catching the fae lights when I drew one, throwing it at the executioner. He dodged, baring his teeth at me, his eyes widened in understanding.
‘So Boyan was right. You found a way to keep him alive.’ He sneered. We both knew he couldn’t complete his task. Not without fighting me, and not even the Brotherhood’s executioner would dare harm the Grand Master’s daughter.
‘Leave and tell my father Tymon struck a bargain. He’s had his spectacle; the rest is my responsibility.’ I pointed to the door. ‘Leave. That’s my last word.’ To my relief, he listened, but not without cursing my name until he’d disappeared from earshot.
Finally alone, I placed a hand on Tymon’s chest, aligning my aether with the spell I’d created. My power was already neutralising the poison. My breath stuttered when I reached for his aether. It was dangerously weak, so I wasn’t positive I could save him. It would take everything I had to help Tymon recover before the executioner delivered my message to Boyan.
I worked fast. For several moments, nothing changed other than the inventiveness of my curses when the extracted poison burned my fingertips. Suddenly, Tymon sucked in a ragged breath. ‘Fuck,’ he said through a cough, rolling to the side toexpel the contents of his stomach. Once he’d finished, I urged him to get off the table.
‘Move. I can’t help you if we remain here,’ I said, drawing a healing sigil on his arm and pushing my failing aether into his weakened body. When Tymon regained his senses, I helped him up and guided him towards the stairs.
‘You bloody did it. I was ready to kiss this world goodbye,’ he said as we headed up to the servant’s exit.
‘Deliver your part of the bargain by tomorrow, then disappear from Dagome. Your time here is done.’ I let go of his arm, pushing him towards the door.
‘And money?’
‘You’re fucking joking. Hey, I know. Wait here while I fetch some from the vault. No one ever walks these corridors; you couldn’t possibly be captured again,’ I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Tymon’s laugh grated on my last nerve. ‘You can’t blame me for trying. It’s not every day a man is resurrected barefoot and penniless.’ He paused as if pondering something. ‘I know you don’t think highly of the Mules, but if you can, please be kind to my people. They didn’t know about Tangra’s involvement.’ With one last look behind, Tymon stretched and headed into the growing darkness of the alley. I stood observing his silhouette until it disappeared, then closed the door.
Now it was time to face my father, and I had no idea what to say.
I stood before the heavy wooden door of the Grand Master’s private quarters, bracing myself for the storm while conflicted feelings churned inside me. Fear, anger and a healthy dose ofshame prevented me from opening the door and facing the consequences of my actions.
‘Get a grip, woman,’ I muttered through clenched teeth. I huffed and knocked, awaiting permission to enter.
Instead, Irsha opened the door, his solemn, tired face a stark contrast to his usually cheerful demeanour. ‘Come in, Nightshade.’
Boyan sat next to the fireplace with a blanket wrapped around his legs. He looked so fragile, as if the commanding presence he’d displayed in the dining hall had depleted all his strength. Every excuse I’d practised fell to ash at the sight. He didn’t even turn when I approached.
‘Father?’ I called tentatively. The hand holding a goblet of wine shook when he lifted it to his lips. I reached out to help him, so used to using that moment to transfer aether that my reaction was almost instinctive. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, flinching when he pulled away from my touch. ‘I told you I needed him.’
‘Yes, you did. You also disobeyed my orders. How can I lead the Brotherhood if I can’t control my own daughter?’ He sighed, shaking his head.
So, the news was already spreading. A heavy weight settled on my chest. If it had been anyone else, Irsha would have made an example of them, an example far worse than Boyan’s intended punishment of Tymon.
‘When I return, I’ll silence the rumours. I… We can say it was all your plan,’ I said, moving closer to Boyan’s side. ‘I’ll fix it, but please let me help you now. You’re exhausted.’
He placed his hand on my cheek, tenderness lighting his eyes from within, but as I reached to hold him, he withdrew. ‘No, Sana. No more helping. Prepare for your journey to Tivalaran. Irsha will go with you.’ His words were cutting.
I knelt in front of his chair, sitting on my heels. ‘Irsha is needed here,’ I said, but he raised his hand.
‘I’m not asking as your father but telling you as the Grand Master. If you insist on defying me again, Roksana, I’ll ensure you go nowhere.’
He bent over, coughing so violently that red foam appeared on his lips. I reached out, determined to help whether he wanted it or not. My father gestured to Irsha, and before I knew it, a pair of calloused hands lifted me off the floor.
‘You fucked up, Nightshade, but that’s not the reason I’m going,’ Irsha said, his eyes void of emotion when he looked at me. ‘Jagon is my target. The final step to taking over the Brotherhood.’
‘What? Father, you can’t ask this of him. The South is readying for war, and Jagon is hiding in Tivala’s castle,’ I said. A smirk spread across my father’s thin lips. That was why he gave Irsha this job. This was because of me.
‘It’s already decided. Be ready tomorrow; I’ll meet you at your home,’ Irsha said, and my fists tightened so hard the nails sank into the skin.
