As I settled into the makeshift chair I’d made from a tree stump hours later, I considered the next steps. My fingers grazedacross the chameleon I had caught after shadow walking all the way to the southern edge of the Qamar District earlier, where a small rain forest housed the creatures. It was where traveling merchants secured the ones I purchased every time I needed to brew shift.
Quickly, so as to avoid unnecessary suffering, I snapped its body in half, shattering its spine. From there, I began the tedious work of harvesting the iridophores, collecting skin cells slowly by shaving off layers with a blade I stole from Altair’s kitchen. He hadn’t come outside today, though I was sure he was trying to figure out what I was doing. Not that he could. Regardless of what family Altair’s mother had belonged to, I doubted he had learned anything other than strategy with how proud his father was, let alone alchemy.
Snatching enough of the cells to brew a single batch, I placed them into the tiny pot, watching as smoke began to leak from it and feeling magic tingle my fingertips. As that boiled over the small fire I had managed to light on top of the thick layer of snow, I continued harvesting the chameleon’s skin cells, eager to have extra if need be.
Though, I wasn’t particularly sure I’d survive what I was about to do. I was okay with that, truthfully. I didn’t need to live past that moment. It wasn’t necessary when what awaited me was far better. My family. Whole and happy in the sky.
“You are not allowed to die, Nova Tershetta.”
The stars had been quiet since my fight with Altair. They had fed my anger as they giggled while I screamed at him, but since then, they hadn’t so much as hummed. Hearing them then wasn’t all that surprising, but it was annoying.
I will do what needs to be done. If I die trying, then choose Dofrel or Otarn or fucking Altair. I don’t care.
And I didn’t. All I cared about was one thing. The very mission I was plotting as I skinned the chameleon.
I was going to kill Talon fucking Zade.
***
When the vial of shift was ready, I finally went inside, tucking the small glass bottle into my pocket and doing my best to act nonchalant. Altair was on his bed reading a book, Death draped across his chest like an accessory.Traitor.
I marched over to my bag, dipping low to dig into it and putting my back towards the duo. I had packed one singular pair of training leathers, along with chest straps, a thigh sheath, and two sets of cheap daggers I had purchased years ago. I rarely used any of it since being gifted magic, but it was all good to have in case.
Altair’s eyes had to have been on me. I swore I could feel them burning into my curls. So, instead of taking inventory of it all in front of him, I snatched my bag and took it to his bathroom. He said nothing, and I didn’t look back before shutting the door firmly.
He was letting me essentially have free reign of his home, which was odd in and of itself. Altair never seemed to be one for sharing with anyone, let alone with an akhata. He had some sort of plan for me, that was clear, but I wasn’t about to be his pawn.
Frantically, I dressed myself, adding layers over my weapons and topping it all off with the black cloak Altair had put on me. It smelled of smoke and vanilla, with just a hint of whiskey. The scent enveloped me, wrapping around my shoulders and coiling up my hair.
When I’d first met Altair, I’d thought he smelled like wealth and overconsumption—like everything wrong with the world. But as I stood there inhisbathroom, looking intohismirror, withhiscloak on and the scent ofhimeverywhere, I thought maybe I was wrong.
Maybe Altair smelled more like hopelessness and fear. Like the warmth one clung to before the cold stole them away. Altair smelled like someone desperate to feel anything other than defeat.
I breathed it in, willing some of that desperation into my chest. If we had one thing in common, it was our furious determination.
I didn’t bother to fix my curls, not when I had shift. Instead, I stepped away from the basin, tucking the shift into my pocket and closing my eyes. I couldn’t help but smile as I pictured my parents and sister.
“Nova Tershetta, do not make us do something drastic!”
I ignored the stars, tilting my head back and smiling wider.This is for you, Dad—Mama—Celeste.
A strange jolt seemed to shake my body, my throat suddenly burning as if I’d been screaming. Ignoring it, knowing I was probably just overwhelmed and exhausted, I focused once more.
A thudding sounded from the other side of the door as I called upon my shadows, picturing the alleyway near Artie’s shop. Imagining myself stepping into the darkness there. Just as I felt my magic taking me, the door burst open. A hand gripped my forearm before I could stop my string of thoughts, and then the bathroom was gone, replaced by bricks and shadows and dirt.
“Altair!” I hissed, shoving my palms into his chest. He stood there, wearing only a black long-sleeved shirt, a pair of black trousers, and his shiny black boots with silver snake charms slithering up the black laces. No cloak, no gloves, not even a hat. He was so fuckingobviousthat I wanted to scream. “Why the fuck would you burst into the bathroom like that?”
“You screamed for me!” he whisper-shouted, looking completely shaken. I stepped back, startled into silence. I hadnotscreamed for him. I had purposefully hid from him.
“We told you not to make us do something drastic.”The stars sounded deeper than normal, as if especially angered. In that moment, I realized what they did. What they were capable of.
Did you possess me?
“We did what needed to be done in order to maintain our path of chaos. You are an ungrateful, petulant girl without a semblance of self-preservation.”
And you’re all selfish, bitter, lonely creatures! Take your magic away for all I care!
Though I felt the scorching flames of their anger, I knew they wouldn’t say anything else. They were too desperate to take away my magic.
