by Ryan Muree
Tidbits wobbled on the edge of the other bench.
“I don’t know why, Adalai, but ever since those escorts showed up, I’ve not felt right. Maybe the Ingini have intercepted our Messengers. Maybe there are spies in Aurelis. I don’t know, but something’s not right.”
“Lots of shit isn’t right, Sonora. That Ingini we’re holding on to isn’t a threat at the moment, but I want to open her crates first and see what she was transporting. And Emeryss and Grier need to tell us what they want to do from here.”
Sonora looked at the dome above. “Umm… I don’t think they’ve really taken the time… to discuss it…”
“What?” Adalai perked up. “Why haven’t they discussed it? We need to know if they’re going to Neeria or not. After lying to her, I promised I’d take her home personally.”
Sonora glared at her, as Tidbits wobbled, fell over flat on her face on the stone path, and didn’t move.
“Um,” Sonora said, trying to hide her smile. “They’ve been a little… engrossed in something else since the battle…”
Adalai blinked.
“Engrossed in each other…” Sonora added.
“Ugh.” Adalai rolled her eyes.
“I think it’s sweet. Life is short.”
She groaned louder.
“And Urla’s reminding me right now that we have four hours until the dinner with O’Brecht. Sober up and get dressed. Her words, not mine.” Sonora stood, paused before her husband’s shrine, and looked back at Adalai. “It’ll be okay, Ada. I don’t want to be separated from all of you either. Especially now. We’ll find a way to stay together.”
After Sonora had left, Adalai picked up Orr’s message and tore it into pieces. She’d prove him wrong. She was a damn good citizen and an even better soldier for Revel.
Emeryss opened her eyes, and her entire body became aware of Grier lying behind her. His fingertips skimmed her shoulder before he kissed it. She moaned slightly into the pillow and wiggled her bottom against him.
“One of these days, we might have to get up and leave this room.” He slid his arm around her middle. “Did you sleep any?”
No. She hadn’t really since the battle. Those images of Kayson bloodied in Sonora’s arms, of Tully and her legs and the sounds and the smells. Even Avrist. They haunted her. They found her at night when the airship went silent.
And then there was her casting. She’d actually casted, actually saved the day for once, and she couldn’t tell a single spirit she’d done it. She’d broken the laws of ether and everything their society had ever known to be true, and it’d just made everything more complicated.
No, there was no sleeping. She stole a few minutes here and there between Grier’s distractions, but that was it.
“Me neither,” he mumbled. Resting his head behind hers, he molded himself around her. “How do you feel?” he asked.
She shook off the battlefield for a brief second and tried to latch on to the good memories they’d made in the last few days. “Spent?”
He chuckled against her neck.
Spent had definitely been a good word for it. They’d remained naked and tangled together most of the time, only leaving the room for food or drink, and once when Vaughn had interrupted them with another message from Jgenult to return to Stadhold immediately.
“I like it, but that’s not what I meant,” he said.
“Satisfied?”
He nipped at her ear. “That’s good to know, but still no.”
She sighed. “I know what you meant.”
They hadn’t given the Librarian a response, and they’d agreed to tell her after O’Brecht’s dinner.
“I’m not going back, not even just to talk to Jgenult.” She rotated to face him. “I’m going to Neeria. I need to see my family, and I need to reconnect with my home, my people. I want to pay proper respects to Kayson and Tully.”
He kissed her eyebrows, her cheek. Every bit of her tingled under his lips. “You didn’t get them killed—”
“I didn’t do everything I could to prevent it, either.” Her voice was groggy, and her left hand went to her forehead. “Had I let Tully kill Avrist when she first tried, we probably would have seen that ether-grenade in time—”
“You don’t know that. The field was a nightmare.”
“Okay, but he died anyway, and so did she. Had I figured out sooner how to meld scribing and casting like Adalai had originally suggested, I could’ve stopped that grenade. I wouldn’t have been caught by Avrist. I would have been able to defend myself—”
“Those are hypotheticals said in hindsight of what actually happened. You can’t do that after a battle like that. I’ve been prepared to fight for years, Emeryss, and nothing prepared me for that. Nothing. Not to mention, you saved everyone by destroying that thing.”
She groaned.
“Stop. None of it was your fault. Ingini released those grenades.”
She sighed through her nose. “Still, I’d like to go home and pay homage to them for what they did for me.”
He propped himself up on an elbow. “That sounds like a plan.”
“Oh, really, and what about you?”
“What about me?” A smug grin spread across his face.
“A Keeper is required to protect his Scribe and country, and I am no longer your Scribe and you fought for Revel.”
He shrugged. “It’s not entirely far-fetched to say I’m protecting Stadhold by fighting for Revel.”
“It’s against Stadhold’s neutral charter.”
He grumbled and fell down into her neck.
“What is this? Am I sensing Grier Rinnegan IV not wanting to go back and be the best Keeper for Stadhold he can be? Whatever could be keeping him from wanting to return?”
He pulled her under him. “I don’t have a clue.”
She giggled, running her hands across his jaw.
He traced circles with his finger over her shoulder, up her neck, between her breasts, and she inhaled sharply, her body lighting up as if he’d not touched her everywhere a million times in the last seventy-two hours already.
“What will you tell your people about your scribing?”
“Maybe I’ll tell them that when I left Stadhold and stopped, I lost my connection to the ether. Neerians lose their sea legs if they stay off the sea long enough. For now, that’s all they need to think.”
His finger traced along one breast, and she sucked in again. “Tell me more about how the sea works.”
“You mean my family’s pearls of wisdom?”
His mouth began following the path of his finger. “Yes.”
She squirmed a little beneath him, bringing her knees to either side of him, to feel as much of his skin against her as possible. “Let’s see: The bit-jaw worm you don’t haul up lurks in the deep until it’s hungry enough to swallow you whole.”
He stopped kissing for a brief second and grimaced. “Damn, that’s terrible.”
“And highly relevant, actually.”
“What’s another?” His mouth continued the slow crawl of kisses where his finger had been.
“Umm…” It was growing more difficult to concentrate. “Don’t drop what you can’t reel in?”
He smirked. “Am I more than you can reel in?”
“You wish. My mother on the other hand… My mother would warn me about boys like you.”
“Boys? You mean men like me?” He nipped her skin gently, and she laughed.
“To her, you’re a boy. I’m a girl. We’re all whiny babies waiting to get fed… Don’t take it personally, but yes, she would warn me about men like you. Men with the abyss in their eyes that get you tangled up in their lust and words like a barbed net until they pull you under and you can’t see the light.”
“Do you agree?” He’d slid down her body and lifted his head just above her belly button.
Her smile widened. “A little. But for the most part, my mom is wary of anyone from anywhere doing anything. She’s hard to live with.”
> “Aren’t they all?” His eyebrow lifted, and she adjusted her head on the pillow to see him better. “Well, when we get to Neeria, I’ll have to prove that’s not the case.” His tongue inched farther and farther down.
“We?” She took a deep breath.
“We. There’s no way I’m letting you visit Neeria without my protection.” He winked and kissed her lower stomach, blossoming a heat deep within her. “I’m invited, right?”
She moaned softly and threaded her fingers through his hair. Words were hard to form with his hands at her hips and his mouth lingering lower and lower…
She sighed in bliss at the feel of his mouth and the anticipation of what was to come next. “Yes,” she breathed.
Chapter 33
Advisor O’Brecht’s estate — Lamnira — Revel
Adalai ignored the dull ache across her forehead and smoothed down the front of her formal, black RCA uniform. The taste of ethyrol was stale on her tongue, no matter the number of times she’d tried Vaughn’s “super powerful, never fails” sober-up cocktail.
He was dumb. It was bound to fail, considering it was a weird concoction of all-natural ingredients she’d never heard of. Not one sugar puff.
O’Brecht’s glass-domed ballroom was stuffed with just about every elite they’d helped save at the wedding three days prior. Their extravagance still disgusted her. More evening gowns, more stuffy suits, more money in one gigantic room than she would ever have in her lifetime.
At least the wedding was a reason to celebrate a few days ago—sort of. This? Three days after a massive battle with the Ingini. Three days after seeing the technology they had in that cannon. Three days after learning their full intent of decimating Revel and all her citizens.
However… She pulled up her sleeve to check her wrist.
Blink - 75
Disguise - 12
Refraction - 8
Dispersion - 20
Glamour - 95
Dazzle - 15
Illusionary Room - 2
Illusionary Object - 275
Remap Mind - 1
O’Brecht had been kind enough to give them several grimoires as remuneration.
“This is an opportunity, Ada.” Urla had approached with a glass of wine in hand. The rich fruity smell made Adalai want to vomit in the nearest trashcan. “Don’t waste it standing around being bitter.”
“I’m not bitter.”
“Fooled me.”
“We’re getting split up, Urla.” She scanned around them for any eavesdroppers and lowered her volume. “You don’t care about that?”
“Of course, I care about that.” Urla waved at a gentleman smiling at her from across the room. “But if you want to lead, you’ll figure out how to keep us together.”
“That’s not fair.”
Urla tipped her head at a passing guest. “You’re sitting in an advisor’s house days before we’re expected to present ourselves for the council’s judgment. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“O’Brecht can’t do anything about it.”
“Politeness—
“You mean ass-kissing.”
“Ass-kissing, even fake ass-kissing, is necessary from time to time.” She left Adalai for the gentleman staring her down. “Otherwise, it’s been fun.”
Adalai wasn’t good at faking anything, let alone faking being nice or sugary. It would be like pulling her nails out. And what was the point? O’Brecht was just one on a council of ten. At best he’d pull in three other votes, and General Orr had King Fhaddwick’s ear.
But Urla wasn’t usually completely wrong about stuff like this. She wouldn’t have been so nonchalant about them being separated unless Urla thought Adalai could save them somehow. Or she was just excited about finally having an excuse to retire.
Adalai’s stomach turned, so she made for the refreshment tables covered in glistening platters of fatty meats, ripened fruit, and rare cheeses. She found the desserts dipped in gold leaf and avoided the fudges and tarts for the cream puffs instead. She considered more wine but opted for a goblet of ice water.
“Congratulations, Miss Solus.”
The skin on her neck and arms prickled. She rolled her eyes and spun to greet one of the most disgusting humans in Revel, by her account anyway. “Lieutenant Nendrik.”
The RCA’s Finance Chief had joined her with a wine glass in hand. Standing a foot taller than she, he had dark hair and a close-shaven beard. And he often liked to remind her how single he was.
He wasn’t half-bad looking for a younger man already showing up gray in places. Not half-bad looking if he wasn’t a royal raging tart-hole. One of King Fhaddwick’s favorites after General Orr, Nendrik liked to delude himself with the stupid idea that he had as much power as an advisor, and he gloated about it every chance he got.
“Your team seemed to have saved the day.” He smirked and peered down his nose at his glass. “I think this is the first time that something you’ve done might have actually earned the reward.” His vile eyes turned to the new medallion at her chest.
She put her hand over the medal and backed up enough that it wouldn’t draw attention.
Don’t engage him. Fake ass-kissing. She smiled as best she could.
“I’m sure,” he continued, “that Jahree and Mykel could fetch a decent price for it.” He finished his drink and grinned wider—all predator. “Maybe with the money for it, they could get you some food to put on those bones.”
She bristled, her facade failing. “Hm. It seems to concern you—”
“It does—”
“So, is that what I put down when I report you? Lieutenant Nendrik’s concern for the state of my body after staring at it like a creep made me feel uncomfortable.” He made her want to throw up on his glossy black shoes.
He turned his head away, no doubt to check if anyone was watching him. “One doesn’t have to look very hard to see you’re positively gaunt.”
Positively gaunt. Bleh. “I bet if I got paid what I was actually worth, I wouldn’t be.”
He licked his lips and eyed her up and down. “I’m sure you’re quite familiar with charging for your services, but that’s not how the RCA works.”
Her veins lit like fire. “Oh,” she mocked, “please, Lieutenant Nendrik, do explain the finer workings of financing the RCA. You must know all about what the country can afford. Surely, I would have done an even better job in Marana had I been properly fed.” She’d tried to mock the tone and enunciate clearly in an attempt to sound as pompous as he was.
Nendrik set his glass down on a passing tray and crossed his arms. “I could try to explain them to you, but again, it’d probably be a waste of time.”
“Perhaps another night then?” She brought out the fake grin. “Maybe when you’ve had more to drink, and you start groping me? Or maybe after you’ve reminded me for the millionth time that you’d love to take me as a wife?”
The edges of his jaw pinked as he looked around—for an escape, probably.
If she ever got the chance, she’d make him stuff it. She’d take her medallion and shove it right down his throat until he choked to death. Cocky, tart-hole kissing—
“Miss Adalai!” Advisor O’Brecht shrilled across the room. “And my favorite Lieutenant. Did you tell Mr. Nendrik what you did?”
Sober O’Brecht wasn’t any more appealing than Drunk O’Brecht.
“I’m sure he’s heard considering the party.”
O’Brecht chuckled. “Yes, I am sure. Let me tell you, Lienne—”
She stifled a laugh at Nendrik’s name; he lifted his eyes at her and glared.
“—she was so quick, so efficient. She was like a murderous little sprite carrying us away from the battle and killing Ingini. It was, well, glorious!”
Nendrik smirked at her. “So, I’ve heard.”
“It’s a terrible fate, my dear, that we lost your time Caster and healer.”
She took a deep breath and nodded politely at him. It’s a game. I just
have to play it right.
“Yes,” Nendrik said, “it was a costly loss. The king was very disappointed we lost the time Caster. There aren’t any currently to replace her.”
“Well, sir, the world is filled with amazing possibilities,” she said. “Who knows? Maybe another will pop up soon enough.”
Nendrik rolled his eyes.
“Oh, and Lienne,” O’Brecht continued, “when the cannon fell, it was remarkable. I was watching from our spot the entire time. You should have seen it—”
“And what did you see exactly, Mr. O’Brecht?” Nendrik narrowed his eyes.
Her heart quickened, but she wouldn’t give it away. No weakness.
“I guess, you know, I was a fair bit away to see precisely,” O’Brecht said. “But a beam got stuck inside, and it blew apart!”
“I wonder the odds of that… A perfectly working Ingini machine malfunctions when aimed at the miraculous Adalai Solus. Tell me, soldier, how many Illusionary Objects had you expended? Any Remap Minds?”
She wanted to disclose it all, shove it in his stupid face how wrong he was and how she’d trained the first Scribe to cast, but she buried it down deep. No one could know the truth until they had more answers. Then she and Emeryss would show the world what was possible.
O’Brecht laughed and lifted his hands. “You know, I haven’t casted in years. I used to be a bit of a fire Caster, but it’s not really necessary for me anymore. The way I figured, today’s RCA is as strong as ever, and she proved it! You’re right, Nendrik. It was a miracle!”
Nendrik’s eyes never left her face.
She wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t give.
“Shame about your unit, my dear.” O’Brecht patted her on the shoulder. “I don’t understand Orr’s decision, frankly, and I plan to make my point very clear of what you’ve done for Revel during the hearing.”
And that was important to remember. Nendrik only thought he had power. He could certainly make things more difficult if he stuck his nose in business that wasn’t his, but ultimately it wasn’t up to him.
She forced a smile and put up the best performance she could muster. “Thank you, sir. Your sharing the experience with the advisors and the king is crucial to the Zephyrs doing more good work for Revel. I would appreciate it very much.”