Shardless

by Stephanie Fisher

  Skye reached out and tapped Taly on the nose, prompting her to look up. “I’ve got something for you,” he said with a secretive smile. Stepping through a small antechamber and into the adjacent room in a few long strides, he retrieved a large cloth bundle from his worktable and set it on the desk in front of her. When Taly reached for it, he slapped her hands away. “Patience.” She reached for it again, only to be rewarded with another slap and a low snigger. Finally, with exaggerated slowness, he moved the edges of the cloth aside to reveal both of her air daggers, cleaned and polished, and the hyaline pistols.

  Taly squealed and reached for a pistol. “Oh! I thought I would never see you again!” Out of habit, she removed the magazine. It had been inlaid with viridian. “I see you made some alterations.”

  “A few.” He was beaming as he leaned against the edge of the desk, clearly pleased by her reaction. “Look at the cartridge.”

  Arching a brow, she opened the small crystal compartment and smiled. “You added an air crystal. And replaced the metal, I see. You were always such a snob when it came to using alloys.”

  “And I added more wiring to the interior. Just because you don’t technically need more viridian wirework doesn’t mean it can’t still serve a purpose. That and the air crystal should help with the kickback.” Digging around in one of the desk drawers, he pulled out a drawstring sack and handed it to her. “These are your new cartridges. The crystals in these are much higher quality than your last set, so you should get more shots out of each one.”

  “What’s with the color?” Taly asked, turning the pistol over in her hand. The exterior of the gun had been covered in a glossy, black enamel.

  Skye reached over and tugged on the end of her braid. “If you’re going to walk around with an illegal handgun, at least have enough sense not to advertise it.”

  “Point taken,” Taly said with a laugh, reinserting the magazine. She turned the gun over in her hand, smiling as she ran a finger over yet another of Skye’s modifications. An amazingly lifelike tangle of intertwined flowers had been etched along the frame. Snowdrops—the tiny little flower had always been her favorite.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot. Here.” Skye pulled out a small coin purse from the same drawer and handed it to her. “I never paid you for taking me to the Aion Gate.”

  Taly waved him away. “Give that back to Ivain. He’s probably spent at least that much coin just feeding me this week.”

  More than that, probably, she thought, grimacing. During her convalescence, her appetite had bordered on the obscene. Humans generally required considerably less nutrition than the fey, but she was starting to rival Skye in the sheer amount of food she could consume.

  “You know Ivain’s not going to take it back. He’d give you more if he thought you’d take it.” Grabbing her hand, Skye placed the coin purse in her palm. “Besides, you earned this. Before Aimee decided to take you out, you were doing a damn fine job.”

  Taly chewed on her bottom lip, fighting against the smile she could feel tugging at the corners of her mouth. Mumbling a shy “thanks,” she took the bag and set it aside as she reached for Zephyr, turning the blade so that the dazzling crystals set into the hilt caught the morning light. Skye had also made some improvements to her beloved dagger. The crystals had been replaced, and the leather around the grip looked new and expensive. She gave the dagger a practiced twirl, before setting it down and reaching for the swirled viridian blade. “You know, this really is some of your best work,” she said, admiring the way the pearls set into the scabbard shimmered.

  As she stood and looked up, the sincere, unguarded smile on Skye’s face as he watched her inspecting her refurbished equipment took her by surprise. That wasn’t a look she was used to seeing, and it made something in her stomach flutter in a way that she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to examine too closely.

  “Um…” she stammered awkwardly. Her cheeks started to feel warm. “I’m going to go finish getting dressed and maybe get in some target practice. I’ll be down in the training yard when you’re ready.” Standing, Taly scooped up the pile of weapons and beat a quick retreat, her blush deepening when she heard him chuckling behind her.

  Chapter 12

  -A letter from High Priestess Melinoe of the Faerasanaa to Lord Auberin Brenin of House Arylaan, High Lord of Earth

  The 20th day of the month Luna, during the 250th year of the Empty Throne

  Auberin,

  We need to talk about your brother. Kalahad was in my office again last night—asking about bodies. While this is hardly the first time this has happened, we had 15 Feseraa go missing last night.

  I want them back—alive and unharmed. Otherwise, we may need to revisit our arrangement.

  Walk in the Shards’ light,

  Lady Khanna Melinoe of House Agno, High Priestess of the Faerasanaa

  As Taly and Skye walked through the main gates of Ryme on their way to the Swap, Taly couldn’t help but notice the extra attention they received from the townsfolk. Well, not “they.” Mostly just Skye. The astonishingly rich color of a highborn fey’s eyes was always easy to spot, but Skye’s practically glowed. Green eyes were rare among the fey, and the members of House Ghislain were known for having eyes that were almost emerald in their intensity. Even to the casual observer, there was absolutely no question as to Skye’s parentage.

  Taly felt a little uncomfortable standing next to him, but she resisted the urge to hang her head and fall into step behind him where she would be partially obscured. When they were younger, she had been oblivious to the attention they drew walking through town arm-in-arm—a highborn noble and a shardless. Everything had been so much easier then.

  Taly fidgeted with the sleeve of her coat, trying to ignore the people around her. The protection spells woven into the fabric tingled against her skin and made her shiver. When she had rifled through her closet that morning, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Sarina had gifted her a new set of leather gear, perfect for salvaging, sparring, or just traveling outside the more populated areas of the island. The charcoal jacket she now wore was soft and pliable, and while it wasn’t exactly armor, the hide shell was reinforced for added durability. She had new boots as well. They were tall, ending mid-thigh, and would help protect her legs if she ever got pushed into another pile of scrap metal. As she had learned by now, the mountains of junk that accumulated around tears in the veil certainly didn’t lack for sharp edges that liked to reach out and slash through clothing and skin.

  “Damn it,” Taly cursed as she felt the cuff of her boot start to slip. Sarina had most likely had them made using her old measurements. Exiting the flow of traffic, Taly stood off to the side and inspected the strap buckled around the shaft of her boot. She had already tightened it as far as it would go.

  “What’s wrong?” Skye asked, coming to stand beside her.

  “It’s my boots. I’m still too scrawny.”

  “Scrawny? Shards, you’ve been listening to Eliza—the same woman that still calls me scrawny. You look fine, Tink. You’re still a little lean, but you’ve got plenty of muscle tone.” Taly’s brows drew together in a frown as she looked up at him skeptically. It wasn’t like him to comment on her appearance. Not in a positive way, that is. Skye just shrugged in reply, tugging at the neck of his jerkin and then readjusting the lapels of the dark navy duster he wore over his armor. “What? You’ve been walking around in flimsy, little nightgowns all week. The restoration spells made your hair longer too. Or was I not supposed to notice that either?”

  “Whatever,” Taly said, shaking her head. “I’ll just pay to get the straps fixed when we get to the Swap.”

  “No need. I think I have something that may work.” Tugging the strap of his bag over his head, Skye crouched down beside her as he began digging through his pack.

  Taly sighed, vainly trying to adjust the scabbard of one of her daggers. The harness for her knives was new and stiff, and an intricate border of tiny snowdrop flowers was sta
mped into the side along with her initials. Looking up, she started when her eyes met the bright violet gaze of another highborn. A sneer was painted across his perfect features. In fact, most of the people passing by were looking at her with icy contempt. She pulled at the collar of Skye’s greatcoat. “Get up. People are staring.”

  “So?” he asked distractedly, still rifling in his pack.

  “So, I—”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, shardless?” a gruff voice practically spat.

  Taly yelped when a rough hand grabbed her shoulder and twisted her around. She instinctively reached for Zephyr as she struggled against her attacker’s grasp, vainly trying to shrug off the hand that was fisted in the fabric of her coat. The man’s iron grip didn’t loosen. He gave her a vicious shake, throwing her off-balance and wrenching Zephyr’s hilt from her grasp in the process. The dagger fell to the ground with a clatter.

  She soon found herself face-to-face with a very angry shopkeeper. He was gangly and lean, but his grip on her shoulder was like a vice. He looked down at her contemptuously. “You think to have a highborn shine your shoes, human? Maybe someone should teach you your place.” Flames spiraled up his arm, coiling and converging around the hand that held her as he summoned his aether. The smell of smoke filled the air. Bracing herself, Taly waited for the heat of the fire spell to burn through her coat and hit her skin.

  But the blistering pain never came. Before she could even blink, Skye was standing next to her. She hadn’t even seen him move from his position on the ground behind her. He just appeared next to her attacker, his hand around the fire mage’s throat.

  “Put. Her. Down.” Skye’s voice was low and dangerous, and an animalistic growl emanated from deep within his chest. The air thinned as Skye pulled apart the man’s spell, quite literally draining away the aether that coursed through the fire mage’s veins. There was nothing more fearsome than a shadow mage, especially in close range. Skin-to-skin contact, however, was a death knell.

  Taly let out the breath she’d been holding, glad that the heat at her shoulder was starting to abate. Her attacker’s grip relaxed, and she scrambled away, eager to put some distance between herself and the angry fey.

  The immediate threat extinguished, Taly finally had a chance to look at her assailant. Though his ears were pointed, he looked too much like a mortal to be highborn. Still, the expensive silk of his frock coat and his clean-shaven jaw indicated that he had money.

  The lowborn man started to sputter, his face turning red. “I… I thought she was trying to rob you, milord. Her hand was on her dagger.”

  “So, instead of simply asking, you made a biased assumption and decided to attack a lady unprovoked? And not just that, you attempted to attack her with fire aether—all in broad daylight for an unsubstantiated observation.” Skye lifted the man onto his toes. “Apologize.”

  “Skye, that’s not necessary.” Taly tugged at the sleeve of his coat, her other dagger now drawn and held at her side.

  “Yes, it is, Taly,” Skye replied, glancing at her over his shoulder. “This man needs to learn some manners. Now, good sir” —Skye tightened his grip, lifting the man a little higher— “please apologize to the lady.”

  The man spared a frightened glance at Taly. She could see hatred mixed with the terror in his expression. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, “I acted in error.”

  Skye arched a brow, and his face hardened. Taly tugged at his coat again, and when his eyes found hers, she shook her head. “That’s a piss-poor apology, but it’ll have to do,” he hissed through clenched teeth as he lowered the man to the ground. “You’re very lucky, you know. If either the Marquess or his sister had been here, they wouldn’t have been so kind.”

  The man visibly paled as he finally took in Skye’s appearance, and Taly could see the pieces start to click into place as he realized just who he had inadvertently picked a fight with. Almost everyone on the island was aware that the Marquess had a mortal ward, even if they couldn’t be bothered to remember her name or face. “L-lord Emrys? My deepest apologies, sire.” He turned to Taly and bobbed his head before stumbling down the street and back through the door of his shop.

  Skye watched the man scurry out of sight before finally turning back to Taly. His jaw was clenched, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. “I think I understand now why you pulled a knife on me the other day in town.” He pulled back the collar of her jacket, running a finger over a row of crystals sewn into the lining and checking her skin for burns. “The protection spells in your coat are working, so I guess that’s good. Does this happen often?”

  “More often lately with so many visitors in town for the gate opening,” Taly replied shakily. “Anti-mortal sentiment is always running high when the tourists visit. Seems worse than normal, though. People are on edge for some reason.”

  Scooping up Zephyr from the pavement, she sheathed both her daggers and then shook out her hands to hide the sudden tremble. While this wasn’t the first time she’d been threatened by some lowborn trying to assert his dominance, she couldn’t exactly say the experience was improving. “So,” she said, taking a deep breath and trying to lighten the mood, “I think this is the part where I’m supposed to say ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh,’ right?”

  Skye barked out a laugh, and some of the tightness around his eyes started to melt away. As he pulled her over to a bench, he clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “No. The appropriate time would’ve been while I was performing the impressive feat of strength. See—I knew we should’ve practiced.”

  Skye pushed her to sit as he fell to one knee in front of her, and Taly’s eyes darted from side-to-side, watching the passersby. She started to grow nervous and was about to pull him up to sit beside her until she noticed that he had positioned himself so that if anyone else made a grab for her, they’d have to go through him first. He glanced up, giving her a reassuring smile as he continued to dig in his pack. After a moment, he produced a small leather repair kit and set to work refitting the straps around her boots. Blowing out a slow breath, she leaned back, content to watch as he easily pushed a metal belt punch through the thick leather with nothing more than a flick of his wrist. Every so often, his fingers would graze the inside of her thighs as he adjusted the fit, sending small, not entirely unpleasant shivers down her spine.

  Taly shook her head. Skye had helped her with her belt straps at least a hundred times before. This time was no different.

  “All done,” Skye announced a moment later, patting her knee.

  After a long pause, he had still made no move to stand, prompting Taly to look down. He gave her an odd look, his eyes unblinking as they held her gaze. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he abruptly stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder. As Taly moved to follow suit, he reached down and pulled her to her feet, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and pressing his elbow firmly to his side. Without another word, he continued forward.

  Taly’s first instinct was to pull away—they were drawing even more attention now as they weaved through the crowd at an unhurried pace. Instead, she found herself stepping closer, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

  Thankfully, they weren’t far from the Swap now, and she managed to brush aside any lingering unease once they passed through the doors. It was busy that morning, making it easier to disappear into the sea of people. Taking the lead, she started pushing her way to the back of the main room.

  “Where are you going?” Skye asked, allowing himself to be pulled along. “Shouldn’t we be looking for Sandulf?”

  Taly rolled her eyes. Sandulf was the reconnaissance expert employed by the Marquess. His job was to gather as much intelligence about the island as possible and provide up-to-date information to salvagers and guides. Unfortunately, he was terrible at his job. And lazy.

  “I’ve got someone better,” she yelled over the din. “Just let me do the talking. He hates nobles.”

  “This is going to be good,” Skye muttered quietly
, smirking when she turned her head to glare at him.

  Finally managing to push and shove her way to the back of the room, Taly released Skye’s arm as she veered off into a narrow, partially concealed hallway. Back when the Swap was still a lord’s manor, this area had been used by the servants.

  “Hey Dimas,” Taly said in a sing-song voice, approaching a sandy-haired youth. He had a baby-face and freckles, and Taly had mistaken him for a teenager when she first met him. She knew better now not to be taken in by outward appearances. He usually kept them hidden, but she had once spotted the pointed tips of his ears. This “kid” probably had 150 years on her, at least. “Got anything good for me?”

  “Hey Taly,” Dimas drawled, watching Skye warily as he came to stand beside her. “You’re looking good. I see you’re keeping a little different company these days. What’s with the toft?”

  “He’s a friend.” Taly placed a warning hand on Skye’s arm. Derogatory terms for the nobility aside, she could already tell Skye didn’t like the way that Dimas leered at her. But to be fair, the seedy merchant did that to just about everything female that walked by. “I heard that Marcos came back yesterday. Have any more guides returned?”

  Dimas shrugged and started picking at his nails with a rusty dagger. “If they have, I haven’t heard anything. I didn’t even get to talk to Marcos before the Marquess snatched him up last night. The last guide I saw in Ryme left for Ebondrift last week. Apparently, Lord Kalahad Brenin decided to make an unexpected visit to the island.”

  “The High Lord of Earth’s brother?” Taly asked, her eyes wide. Turning to Skye, she said, “I wonder if that has anything to do with why the other Watchers have been so unresponsive.”

  “It’s possible,” Skye replied. “I’ve only met Lord Brenin a handful of times, but he seems… difficult.”