Elloven watched his irises flare and his mouth jerk in excitement. If he’d been drooling, it would have been less subtle than the look he was giving her now. He was starving for her fear, because taking from others was his only sustenance.
But as she looked around at the soldiers surrounding their cruel, empty soul of a leader, at the old man still hurling the same bullish threats decades later, she realized she wasn’t afraid anymore. Any fear remaining was habitual. The small army he’d assembled to confront a woman half his size highlighted his insecurities. He was the one with something to fear. He’d been stronger decades ago, when he’d caged her for fighting back... when he’d beat her for asking for mercy. But she had an advantage now, and his little display of power was proof he knew it too.
Even if she was wrong, what did she have to lose?
She whittled a thin smile for him, drinking in every little tic and squint as he waited for her to speak. “If I am who you believe me to be, then you must have calculated how dangerous it was for you to declare yourself a threat. Do you really think a single one of these men has what it takes to bridle chaos? Because you’d have to be absolutely certain to chance it.”
Castien lurched to his feet. His men snapped to attention, drawing their swords, and he turned on them with a stern shout. “At ease!”
They fell back.
“You aren’t denying it?”
“Denying what?” she asked sweetly.
“Don’t play coy with me, vixen.” Furious spittle sprayed the table. “You’re no victim. Girls like you, all they want is proximity to power, and I gave it to you.”
Elloven grinned. “You mean my mother.”
“You’re a fucking witch, and I’ll make sure everyone knows it before your end.”
“My end?” As she gradually rose from her chair, she felt herself almost unfurl, her shadow growing taller, spreading wider.
He seemed to feel it too.
“You don’t know who or what I am. What you don’t know could fill the White Sea. Keep an eye on your own lanterns, Castien. All things that rise eventually must fall, and you...” She snorted. “Well, you have a balance due, don’t you?”
“Time will tell, Elloven, which of us is right,” Castien said. His glower was so passionate, his eyes battled to stay open. “I know where you’re staying. I know where you go. I know where you eat. Where you shop. Where you visit. If you feel like someone is watching you?” He made as if to hit her but smiled instead. “They are.”
Boots and steel rang through the air as Castien left with the militia he’d brought because he was too scared to face her alone.
But as soon as the doors slammed closed, all her bravado came crashing down.
Tobias and Felice rushed inside moments later. He bolted the doors, and both he and Felice came to her table.
“Are you all right, love?” Felice whispered, aghast.
Tobias shook his head. “I’ve sent for the lawmen, Shioven. I know who the man was, and I’ll make sure they know it.”
“What did he want from you that he needed twelve men to get it?” Felice wondered aloud.
“And left scared, no less,” Tobias said with a swift exhale. “Miss, let’s get you upstairs. I’ve closed everything for the evening. No one will bother you again tonight.”
“I’ll take her up, Papa. You wait for the lawmen,” Felice said and slipped her arm under one of Elloven’s. “I have a nightgown you can wear, if you want some comfort tonight.”
Elloven couldn’t find the words to thank her or her father. She’d won the match against Castien, but in doing so, she’d re-entered a war with him, and she could not, could not, live her life waiting for him to strike.
“Now, you believe my father when he says no one will be troubling you anymore tonight. You see those candles in the loft windows?” Felice pointed, still holding tight to Elloven with her other arm. “I’m going to light them after I take you to your room. Then the shops beside us will see them and light theirs. Soon the entire village will know there’s been trouble, and it won’t matter how many men the Edevane ruffian has with him. Did he threaten you? Is that what he came for?”
“He thinks he did,” Elloven said. She was tired straight to her bones, and she didn’t even care about the Night Soul anymore. If she even made it to the room, it would be a miracle. Tomorrow, she’d decide what to do, but tonight... Tonight she’d stop fighting and just rest. “Threats are all bullies know.”
“He’ll find no friends here. That man has never been a friend to Oldcastle,” Felice answered. She unlocked the door to the room and handed Elloven the key. “This is the second key, the only other one there is. You have them both. So you rest well tonight, Shioven, and then tomorrow you see about getting yourself some protection. Because bully or not, a man who thinks he’s dangerous will do all he can to live up to the creed.”
Jesstin found Sesto and Daire sitting at his kitchen table, waiting for him.
Dawn was on the rise, after another lucrative evening at the Spiral. He and his accountant, Karissa, had spent the last hour of the night dividing the stacks of currency between the business, the workers, and a third fund he’d started recently, pulled from his own profits. She was the only other person who knew where that money went and why, because it was a part of her legacy too. Thirty-five years ago, Gennady Hawthorne had saved her life and offered her a new one. She’d grown into a woman with the family he’d placed her with. Her adoptive father was a financier and had trained her. She’d continued to learn and practice after marrying and having a son, then had taken over her late father’s practice. She’d walked into the Golden Spiral one day to introduce herself, and Jesstin happened to need someone he could trust and who understood what he was doing and why.
“Invite yourselves in,” Jesstin quipped. He peeled away his vest and tossed it onto the counter. “How’d you get past the guard?”
