Page 21

“ B eat the shit out of each other,” Lotog bellows from the sidelines of our sparring mat. His curls are disheveled from raking his fingers through them repeatedly.

He’s confined to only observing until he’s fully healed, but his manner of observation is more animated than most. Deah ducks against his frantic movements, attempting to calm him down.

I’m just thanking Above that he’s alive.

Lotog suffered several broken ribs and internal bleeding. The healers in the Ravels were able to mend him, but it will take time and rest to fully recover, even with his Fae healing abilities. It’s only been a few days, yet here he is jumping around and screaming on the sidelines.

Visiting him while he laid in the mender's quarters had shattered my heart. He’d insisted it wasn’t my fault; he had followed me over there and I never would have been able to stop him.

It didn’t stop the haunting memories of him and Orion cracking into the earth with such force; it had felt like there would be no returning.

Then he suggested something lewd as a means of making it up to him, and I’d refrained from slapping him as his rambunctious laughter shook him from his bed.

I bring myself back to the present, squatting deeper into my fighting stance. My tall frame forces me to watch my form even more so, ensuring my center of gravity is in the right place .

The Novice across from me is decent at hand-to-hand and sparring, his weight helping him land solid blows. He’d muttered his name, Amenton, before launching himself at my kneecaps. Each punch makes me jittery, my mind racing with thoughts of doubt. He’s easily double my size.

Squashing my negative thoughts, I focus on the mat. Amenton jumps from one foot to another, but I wait for him to come to me. It’s a mistake though, because when he does finally lunge, he uses all his weight. He slams me into the mat, my lungs rejecting oxygen for several moments.

Can you please remain alive? It would be inconvenient to spend my time mourning your death, Artemis says with a yawn down our tether.

I wheeze as I retaliate, actually landing a blow on his left cheek as he hovers over me. He wasn’t expecting me to be ambidextrous; my left hook is as mean as my right.

As he rolls off me, I dart to the other side of the mat. Just sparring.

It seems as if you are doing it poorly, she complains, but I ignore her. I’m not strong enough to hold a conversation and concentrate on not getting pommeled.

Yet.

I move quickly, waiting for an opening to hook his ankle. He shifts all his weight to his right and I make my move, sending him to the mat face first. I grip his wrist, locking it behind his lower back. He slams his fist into the mat, tapping out.

A surprising victory.

You did well, Aledrya, Artemis purrs with pride down our tether, her words like a caress.

“That’s my friend!” Lotog is the only one screaming, earning perturbed glances from the other groups spread out in the hall.

I join them, jumping from the raised mat and taking the towel Deah offers. She flashes a toothy smile, bouncing on her toes. “Celebratory drinks later?”

Lotog jerks his head in our direction, his blue eyes flaring with disappointment. “You can’t be serious? You’re only going because I can’t. ”

Ingrid slaps his back. “We’ll drink for you too, buddy.”

“I could use a drink after training this week,” I agree, grabbing up my bag and towel, heading for the exit to the hallway.

We’ve finished before lunch, having trained with our Phoenixes earlier than usual this morning. My muscles are aching, the last few weeks I’ve put in more hours, more rounds. I’m determined to improve my sparring, even to the point of asking outside our group to train with me. Amenton had been all too eager to embarrass me on the mat.

“Where are you heading off to?” Deah presses, jogging to keep up with me.

“Just to get cleaned up and rest before we go.” The lie is bitter on my tongue as I feign a smile at her. She’s been my best friend since the moment I arrived here, yet I can’t bring myself to tell her everything that has been happening. Having the library to myself has been a welcome reprieve.

One I’m not willing to share.

Ridge and my path hadn’t crossed since the night he’d slept outside our door. It pains me too much to consider that he’s avoiding me after our conversation, so I’ve been keeping myself occupied with the library.

So far, I’ve found that history fascinates me. I’d studied the Fae provinces and the history of more common powers. I confirmed Ingrid was correct. The last written documentation of a Nullifier was a thousand years ago.

Deah keeps pace next to me. “I feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Shame seizes me in its claws; cinching around my stomach. “No, not at all. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much.”

She looks at me, pulling up short before we cross into the hallway. “If you say so. You are coming tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I tell her brightly, and I mean it. I’m grateful for our bond and the feeling of being part of their group.

My group.

Once she disappears back into the training hall, I dart to the side corridors that lead to the library. I jog, not minding the sweat I’m working up—it’s not like I’ve bathed yet, anyway .

Opening the library door and stepping through, a weight lifts from my shoulders. I love it here. This library feels like the home I’d always longed for. Spying the book I’d been reading last night, I pluck it from the pristine bookshelf, heading for the chairs.

I stop short when I see someone occupying the plush seat.

“Ridge? What are you doing here?” I ask, clutching the book to my chest like a plate of armor. My palms instantly slick with sweat.

The way he lounges in that chair makes him look like royalty. He looks insouciant, peering at the book resting on his massive thigh. His finger marks the place on his page, my core clenching. The memory of those fingers trailing my lip floods through my system.

Ridge is still watching, smirking knowingly. “How many times must I remind you this is my library?”

I roll my eyes. “So you’ve said, but never explained.”

He looks momentarily conflicted, his face softening. “It’s not something I’ve wanted to get into.”

It’s an effort to bite back sarcasm and instead opt for a more pressing question. “Where have you been?”

“The last hour? Here.”

I swallow my irritation at the flippant responses. “Enjoy yourself, I’ll go read elsewhere.” I turn to march back to the door. That unnatural speed aids him in grabbing my free hand, pulling me to face him before I can object. He intertwines his fingers with mine as he locks my arm behind my back, rubbing his thumb over mine—the book I’d been clutching still stuck between us.

“I apologize. The last week has been rather demanding.” He hesitates, and my heart lurches at his touch. “We had to go to the Woven Wall to see if any other soldiers were crossing into the Fae Realm.”

I allow him to continue holding me like this, even though it makes me dizzy. “Any news to report?”

His brow cocks up, a dimple forming on his cheek. “Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you select? ”

My head is swimming. “Why is Torrent even crossing into the Fae Realm? The point of the Wall is to keep us separated.”

Ridge’s face changes instantly, his eyes becoming distant. He drops my hand, but continues standing so close that I can smell cedar and citrus. “It’s been around for three generations. King Rathian Zan the First thought it best to separate the humans from the Fae. Current King Rathian Zan, the Third , can’t stand that he doesn’t hold the power. He started using our people for his own sick ministrations years ago, hoping to obtain his own power. We rescued all our people he took. You were the last one. Now, it appears he’s finally retaliating.”

“How do you know all of this?” My voice comes out as a croak.

Ridge’s jaw jumps, I see him considering.

I raise an eyebrow, a silent challenge.

His hard mask slips, as if remembering the other night. “You know that I am long lived.”

“ How long lived?”

“Older than you.”

I roll my eyes. “Old, but the maturity of a boy.”

“Ninety-seven.”

I bristle, my brow creasing. Lamond had mentioned his age, but the confirmation from Ridge makes me fully process it. “How is it possible you look to be in your thirties, then?”

He feigns a gasp. “I look thirty?”

“You’re insufferable.”

You’re both insufferable. Do not force me to listen to your side of this inane conversation. Where are your barriers? Artemis growls.

The only way I can tell he’s nervous about his admission is how he rakes his hand through his thick hair. “I didn’t want to tell you.” His face is so clearly pained. “I know my age is jarring for you, especially since you’ve spent so much time on the other side of the Wall.”

“I already knew from Lamond you were like a hundred years old ,” I tease him, attempting to unravel the tension between us.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Lamond has a lot of room to talk, he’s in his fifties.”

“ What ?” It comes out more as a squeak than a question, Ridge stiffening at my shift in tone.

“It’s not my place to divulge more about Lamond.” Regret is etched onto his face, and his words from the other day come back to me.

“I wouldn’t have thought twice if he’d so much as breathed toward you in anger, Aledrya. I would not have gambled you for even a moment.”

I don’t want to push him, but I also don’t want this conversation to end before I learn more about Ridge.

“Will I see you in town tonight?” I shift gears, hopeful for more time with Ridge. I’d yet to see him out in town, mingling with the others.

He shakes his head, making his way over to the bookshelf and sliding the book back into its rightful place. “No. Thought I’d spar with Laz and Nalin.”

“Oh.”

Ridge brings his hand up to my chin, tilting my head back as he smirks down at me. “Enjoy your alone time. And enjoy captivating every male gaze you come across tonight,” he drawls before sauntering to the door, softly closing it behind him.

Suddenly, being alone in this library doesn’t sound so appealing.

It’s become something of a tradition to see how little Emmy, Ingrid, Deah, and I can wear into town. Our rotating closets help to invent new and particularly scandalous outfits every time we go into town.

Emmy opts to walk beside Ingrid as we make our way out, and I’m elated to see they’re actually making conversation.

Baby steps to friendship .

Deah links her arm through mine, her smile giddy with excitement. “Will you finally be taking someone home tonight? I can find somewhere else to sleep.” Her eyebrow twitches up at the word someone .

Emmy turns toward us, hearing Deah’s squeals. “I don’t think I’ve seen you pay anyone any attention since you arrived.”

It takes everything in me not to wince at the words. I’d love Ridge to come back to my room.

Somehow, I think people would notice the massively framed, silver-haired warrior in our barracks. The reality of our situation hits me, how unlikely it is that Ridge would be interested in me long term, how vastly different our lives are at this point.

“Maybe,” I mumble, mostly to get them to leave me be. This conversation is increasing the risk of me becoming a sad drunk tonight, which just won’t do. “Deah, you better not pull that shit with the dispatching again,” I warn her, searching for a change in subject.

Ingrid swerves around, frowning. “Please don’t. I had a massive dinner.”

Deah scoffs as we push open the front door to the Caves. “I really have improved. Hardly anyone vomits anymore. I can almost guarantee a vomit-free dispatch.”

Emmy groans. “ Please stop saying vomit.” She falters for a second. “How did we get out of there without Lotog?”

Ingrid’s face becomes smug, flicking her short hair back from her face. “I made sure he took his happy tonic about thirty minutes ago.”

Laughter bubbles up from Deah and me, while Emmy scrunches up her face, an air of disgust in her voice. “I do not want to know what that means.”

Ingrid wrinkles her nose, but her eyes twinkle with mischief. “It’s a painkiller and sleep tonic.”

“Should we walk with everyone else?” There are hordes of Novices filing out of the Caves to head into town. We are right at the halfway point of our training, it’s a convivial atmosphere as everyone makes their way toward the bars .

Deah bounces from foot to foot, puffing out air loudly. I shift my attention to her; part of me wants to join the groups walking, get to know the other Novices better.

Deah grabs our hands, smiling wickedly. “We need to get to the bar before all the good tables are taken. We’re dispatching, no complaining.”

She is surprisingly much smoother when she dispatches us this time. It’s clear she’s been working meticulously to improve, even managing to land us outside the bar.

“Nalin has me picking up a rock, dispatching, then setting the rock down on the other side of the Pass. Then I have to repeat the process,” she explains as we weave our way through the crowded bar, my heels sticking with every step.

Why every bar is so damned sticky, I’ll never know.

“Why the rock?” Emmy asks, tugging on my hand to keep us from getting separated.

Deah looks over her shoulder, pushing back her long black hair. Her curls are down tonight instead of her usual braid, earning her longing glances from male patrons in the bar. Deah is always eye-catching, but her thick locks framing her face accentuate her sharp jaw and eyes.

“You’ve experienced my dispatching. Who the Beneath would agree to do it with me a hundred times in a row?”

I can’t help but bark out a laugh. “Nalin is smarter than I gave him credit for.”

“The smartest.” Emmy sighs, but then clears her throat and shakes off the dreamy stare when she catches me eyeing her.

We claim a table off to the side. The warped wood along the top is—not surprisingly— sticky . I drag my finger along the grooves in the wood, my glass rocking on its uneven surface as the others pile in around the table.

Tonight I opt for a deep red wine instead of the usual mead. I’ve never had wine, but it takes me all of two sips to discover I love it. The dry liquid does absolutely nothing to squash my thoughts about Ridge.

If anything, it fuels them .

I hear a sigh down the tether connecting me to Artemis and already know what she’s going to say. I cannot come pick you up again.

I’m not planning on getting into any arguments. I won’t need a ride, I promise her, suppressing a tipsy fit of laughter.

A huff. I wasn’t offering. I am not a pony.

Ponies are probably much nicer and less volatile, I tease.

A beat of silence. Ponies are assholes.

I chuckle as I sip from my wine.

Scanning the bar, I see the majority of our class here. A few ranked officers have claimed their typical booth in the corner. Lamond sits with officers I’ve seen in passing, each one laughing and raising their thick glasses of mead. We briefly make eye contact, and he gives me a rueful look. I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness in my chest.

Our friendship couldn’t have been so one-sided.

Lamond stands, saying something to the others. He approaches our table, offering me a sheepish smile. “May I sit here?” He gestures to the open seat on the other side of me.

I purse my lips, but nod. Deah spots Lamond taking up the empty seat, and she, Emmy, and Ingrid awkwardly excuse themselves to get more drinks from the bar.

It’s an effort to clear my throat from the thick wine. “I was sitting here wondering if our friendship was really so terrible.” I rip my eyes from my glass, meeting his stare. “Was it?”

His eyes go wide, sorrow deepening the lines on his face. “Gods no, you know how I felt about you, Aledrya.”

I catch myself comparing how my name sounds coming from Lamond instead of Ridge. Just thinking about my name on Ridge’s lips makes me tremble. “The problem was always that you didn’t trust me. You didn’t think I would respect your orders, so you would send others to check on me. You’d try to prevent me from any danger to the point of hindering my ability to help protect this place.” I drum my fingers on the side of my glass. “We were always going to be better as friends.”

“If it’s the rule that is preventing you from considering more…I can talk to the Major,” he states cautiously, watching me sip my wine. The deep red liquid has my head swimming faster than the mead ever did, but I like the feeling the wine gives me more.

A sense of calm, like I’m floating through the air in a tepid cocoon. But it also brings a strange emotion, like I’m hopeless against my need for Ridge.

“No. I feel this way regardless of the rules. I wanted to be your friend, and I felt like when I didn’t reciprocate wanting the same kind of relationship you did, you became relentless.”

I can see my words hitting Lamond, his face falling. “I didn’t know I made you feel that way, but when you say it like that…” He winces. “It does sound truly terrible.”

I dip my chin, avoiding responding by taking a long drink from my glass.

“I apologize,” Lamond says, his words hanging in the air between us. The way his voice cracks, the lines on his face; they’re filled with remorse. “I know one apology means nothing, but your friendship was meaningful to me.”

“It was to me as well,” I admit, though I can no longer feel my mouth moving.

He offers me a crooked smile. “Can we be trial-based friends?”

I hate that I laugh, cursing the damned wine. “Sure. We can try out being friends. No more possessive shit though, I mean it.”

Ridge on the other hand…

He nods, a wolfish grin forming. “You did beat the shit out of me in Star Sparr,” he teases, tapping the side of my glass.

I snort, taking another deep drink, only to realize that I’ve drained the glass. “You more than deserved it.”

The others return, Deah sliding a new drink in front of me. To my shock, the group welcomes Lamond into our conversation with ease. Nalin ends up joining, taking up a space next to Emmy.

A little tug in my chest has me sipping from my new glass. I feel content for the first time in a long time. It has nothing to do with the heady feeling I’m getting from the wine, and everything to do with making amends with Lamond, being here with my friends. I belong here. I have a purpose.

Hune would have fit right into this group; joining in on the sarcasm and banter easily. Even Eon, with his meek demeanor, would have adored the Ravels Caves and likely would have wanted to become part of it as soon as he saw the warriors who led it.

Circling my index finger around the rim of my glass, I consider. They both could have survived here, despite not being Fae.

I hate the Human King for separating us.

Merriment hangs in the air as Nalin and Lamond bicker. I miss Ridge. Then it hits me.

Nalin is here.

A deep, rolling laugh fills my mind, making me blush. Some of us like our beauty sleep.

That voice appears in my favorite dreams.

Deah eyes me suspiciously, so I bring my lips to the rim of my glass and feign listening to their conversation. Where are you?

Do you need something? There’s a hint of alarm in Ridge’s voice at my question. I realize it must look odd that I’m pressing about where he is. The last thing I want is to come across as Lamond did to me.

I avoid Deah’s watchful gaze, toying with the stem of my glass.

No, I was hoping to see you. I let my heart fall ever so slightly. My admission is out there for him to do what he wants with it.

There is no reply for a moment, and my chest grows tight. I stare down at the now empty glass until Nalin returns and passes me another one. Accepting his peace offering, I give him a tense smile. We pack up after our round, making our way to the bar next door with another group of Novices.

His reply finally comes as we slide into a booth at the back of a classy and quiet bar. A man playing the piano softly on the other end of the open space .

We both know that’s a bad idea. His voice is tentative.

I hold on to a breath. Bad ideas can be fun.

His silence feels pensive. Have you been drinking, Aledrya? The way he says my name could bring me to my knees every damned time.

Maybe. And the third glass of wine was a terrible idea, I can tell already. Lamond and Nalin are throwing darts, Emmy watching them closely. Deah and Ingrid have sauntered off to the bathroom.

Stay with your friends. Be safe, love. There’s nothing harsh about his words, but the rejection stings all the same.

Deah and Ingrid are giggling, trampling across the bar with the grace of elephants, back to our table. I can still feel Deah’s eyes on me; she’s been like a hawk all night, monitoring my every move.

There’s a brush of warmth in my mind, as if Ridge is sending me physical reassurance through our communication.

Deah snaps me back to the conversation happening at the table. “We’re going gnome hunting.” She leans so far across the table she almost loses her balance, bursting into an eruption of laughter. The scent of alcohol permeates her breath as she inches closer. I’m not the only one feeling tipsy.

Fighting off a drunken smile, I look up at her. “What the Beneath are you talking about?”

Confusion wrinkles her otherwise flawless face as she scrunches it up at me. “How could you not remember us talking about the gnomes?”

A wild, sloppy fit of laughter escapes me then. “I forgot about that.” Nalin and Lamond share a glance, waving us off, sauntering back to the officers’ table.

Polishing off the last of my wine, I peer at Deah. “When are we going?”

“Right now. We need plenty of time to find one and interrogate,” Emmy bellows as she launches to her feet.

Ingrid grabs her by the arm. “Woah. No. That’s not happening. We just want to see one.” She peers at Emmy as if inspecting for a head injury, piercing green eyes scanning under her furrowed brow .

Elation ripples through me that Lamond doesn’t even throw me one scrutinizing glance from across the bar.

After haphazardly throwing coins onto the table to pay for our last round, our group heads for the exit. Stumbling out of the bar and into the dark street, the rush of frigid wind invigorates me. Our clothes are sheer and cover a fourth of what it should, but none of us voice a complaint about the bite in the air.

We link arms, taking the street that will lead us back to the Ravels, through the woods. The streets are silent, save for our rambunctious laughter, as we stagger off to find the gnomes.