Page 25 of Antiletum (The Nocturne #1)

Has she figured it out yet?

Val

C rickets hum entirely too loud. A disturbing symphony hidden in the trees and grass of the forest for the sole purpose to overstimulate.

Exceptional hearing has its advantages. But just the same, it can be a curse. Everything is so loud. To add to the discomfort, a swarm of mosquitoes clouds my face.

I scowl at the Heartstone, thumping unevenly in its moonlit clearing.

My displeasure isn’t directed at the ancient rock, but at every event that caused its initial death.

That is keeping it from operating as it should.

My glower turns instead to the large Ellden clock at the top edge of the Heartstone, much more to blame for my ire.

The rhythm of the Heartstone is all wrong against the straining of the clock.

Not the strong, steady beat that I heard when I last fed the thing.

It’s stuttered—fast and tiring. Working entirely too hard.

A concerning spread of black has appeared sporadically at the edge like creeping mold.

More worrisome than if some of its mended cracks had reappeared .

Knee bent, a hand rests against it, like I’m comforting a wounded animal. “I know,” I say gently. “We need to hold it together. Just a bit longer,” I soothe the pitiful thing.

The Ellden clock gives a loud groan, hands struggling backwards.

The Heartstone and Ellden clocks are trying to cancel each other out.

What a day it will be when every Ellden clock throughout the world spins until they break, ceasing to exist at all.

Unlocking shifter gifts and breaking magical binds. But until we raise the other two…

I may have undersold my understanding on how dire the situation is to Parliament. May have undersold it to myself.

We need to get the Heartstone fed fast, before someone else decides to defy the laws of marriage or expend too deeply and the price becomes truly catastrophic. If the Ellden clocks break before the Heartstones all beat again, magic will cease to exist. Have nothing tethering it to this world.

I won’t breathe easily until the task is accomplished.

When Delaney used her necromancy without me I was able to feed the Heartstone within hours of the transgression.

It’s been days since I had to use mine without my wife.

The price is showing—far more than I thought it would.

It would have been better to give an offering to the damn thing before I met with Parliament, but Alaric and Mallin can only move so quickly.

Especially with a gaggle of prisoners in tow.

The clatter of wheels and hoofbeats announcing my friends’ arrival are a welcome noise.

Mosquitos and screaming crickets aside, I watch the small cart being pulled down the path by two large horses with relief.

The same path I rode down with Delaney after we wed, her sitting in front of me on one of those same horses.

My arm wrapped around her waist while I knew she was still wet with our cum between her thighs .

Would she have stayed if I had licked her clean when we made it to our bed, rather than fall asleep?

Mallin and Alaric sit atop the cart bench, directing the steeds, thieving away my sensual thoughts.

The Heartstone emits a fiendish groan, the ground around it giving a gentle shiver. It knows its meal is coming. Even the Ellden clock gives off an energy of hungry anticipation. Though the Heartstone and Ellden clocks resist existing simultaneously, they both desire balance.

“About time,” I sigh, walking towards the cart.

Small, pitiful pleas for mercy call from one of the prisoners in the back.

Alaric hops down, blonde hair glowing in the moonlight, scarred face accentuated by shadows. “Not all of us have expedited travel arrangements, my Lord,” he snarks.

Mallin slaps the back of his seat before joining us on the ground. “A little more gratitude would be nice, Val. I rode for a day and night straight away from my wife. After dealing with a mountain of paperwork to have these fuckers moved. Which took nearly as long as the journey.”

I clap a hand on his back. “And it is appreciated, friend. Things haven’t gone quite according to plan.”

The hope was that Delaney and I would raise the other two Heartstones in quick succession while we were believed to be honeymooning at Greystone. But then everything fell apart at the finish line. Rainah died before locating Panthera . And Delaney spent our honeymoon rejecting me.

I clear my throat, hoping it might wash away the anxiety that rises with such thoughts. “I didn’t trust anyone else. Another round is being prepared? ”

“Yes. And a discreet message sent to Xavien in Vulpes .” Mallin wraps an arm around my shoulder roughly. “Look at you. Getting all sentimental. I’m guessing that my sound advice didn’t lead you astray?”

Alaric grins, knocking a whimpering man on the back of the head with the hilt of his dagger to shut him up. He crumples. “Winning your wife over yet?”

The rest of the prisoners fail to hide their fear. It stinks. A cloud of soured onions.

“We are making progress.” I glare at Mallin. “Have you informed everyone who wasn’t at the manor of mine and my wife’s… disagreements?”

Alaric laughs. “Sounds a bit deeper than a disagreement, Val. Has she figured it out yet?”

Mallin addresses Alaric, hauling the unconscious prisoner over a shoulder.

“No, I’d say she hasn’t. To either—the good or the bad.

Maybe when she does it’ll be enough to cancel each other out.

” Mallin shoots me with a disappointed frown.

“Come on. You know I wouldn’t betray you like that, Val.

” He adjusts the dead weight laid across his back with a grunt.

“Other than to Alaric. But he doesn’t count. ”

The assassin points a finger in his direction. “I’ll remember that.” Alaric’s gloved hand grabs the scruff of another prisoner, pulling him over the edge of the cart. The convict yelps when his ribs plink over the wooden edge like a macabre xylophone.

“Ungrateful.” Alaric clicks his tongue at the whiner. “Honestly, you should count yourself lucky that you will receive a quick execution.”

“Maybe we should stick this one back for a later date,” I suggest to Alaric. “With a bare hand. Let him feel the pain of his crimes. ”

“Gladly.” Alaric pulls a glove off with his teeth, the prisoner pleading desperately. Such a contrast to the shared humor between friends. We know that he’s still about to meet his end in this forest clearing. But it’s difficult to resist the urge to tease.

“Slow tumors seem like a good way for this one to go.” The prisoner cries out in terror as Alaric’s bare hand touches his skin.

Mallin snorts with mirth as the prisoner falls into hysterics, piecing together that he’s been touched by a famed, deadly assassin. Alaric’s identity has been preserved, but his reputation is well known.

Mallin, Alaric, and myself share a smile.

“Ah, fortune is on your side.” Alaric claps the back of his neck, the man wincing with each bout of contact.

For good measure, Alaric plants a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.

Can’t say I blame him. It’s not often my friend is able to touch another, skin-to-skin.

“You should say a prayer of thanks to the Nocturne ,” Alaric says, dragging him by the scruff of his shirt.

“There’s urgency to feed this poor, straining thing.

I suppose you’ll die quickly after all.”

The three of us (plus our unruly cargo) stride to the Heartstone together. It beats faster, like an eager puppy wagging its tail, knowing it’s about to feast. I bend again to stroke the stone tenderly. “Shh. It’s coming.”

“No worries for the spread of gossip on your marital problems from me, my Lord,” Alaric promises, back to the conversation at hand before being rudely interrupted.

“Be a shame for so much work to have gone into putting you in your position just for you to instantly lose the respect of the people because you can’t make your wife like you. ”

“Your confidence is astounding.” I glare at him and he laughs.

“You know I have all faith in the world for you, Val.”

“Though, no one can make any promises for Delaney.” Mallin sounds mildly concerned.

“At least she was willing to put on a united front at the party. I wasn’t so sure, given the shit show after your wedding.

” He throws his prisoner on the ground. Rousing, he makes to get up, to stupidly run away.

Mallin looks down on him with boredom, opens his mouth—and closes it again immediately, gritting his teeth.

Selise is nowhere in sight for him to safely use his magic. He resorts to kicking the prisoner in the stomach.

“Fuck. I still haven’t gotten used to not being able to just use my power at will. I nearly gleeked on the fucker.” Mallin shakes his head, bringing his attention back to me. “In all seriousness, who would have foreseen Rainah speaking from the grave without being raised from the dead?”

Alaric snorts. “Rainah would have foreseen it. Honestly I’m surprised she didn’t know about that nice little interaction that made you so untrustworthy.”

“Yes,” I say absentmindedly, discomfort twisting my stomach. Such a stupid, impulsive decision. I don’t have many regrets, but putting myself on Rainah’s bad side is one of them. “Best not to speak about it.”

Whimpers of grown men replace the offensiveness of crickets, difficult to ignore. My eyes roll towards the caelos . It always astounds me how terrified people are to die when death is the only thing guaranteed in life.

They arrange our offerings around the Heartstone; it gives a pitiful little whine. It might as well be pawing at my toes, begging with little starving eyes for a morsel of meat.

Mallin and Alaric deposit the two prisoners exactly atop where two of the three priestesses at my wedding bled to death, offering their life’s blood willingly to the Nocturne. None the wiser that their sacrifice would bring the Heartstone back to life then and there .

“Best grab one more,” I say, striding back to the cart. “Just in case.”

“Good idea,” Mallin praises. “This thing looks fucked.” He toes a black stain on the Heartstone.

A creaking groan from the Ellden clock echoes against the trees, metal on metal screeching. “Yeah. The clocks are pissed,” Alaric observes the obvious. “Think we’ll have to repeat the process tonight?”

“If we do,” I call over my shoulder, “at least we brought extras.”

Pushing an emaciated prisoner out of the way to more easily inspect another, I collect the healthiest offering that may have the stoutest blood.

“It won’t get this bad again,” I promise. The remaining six expressions of relief over not being chosen melt back into fear.

No one could really say what was going to happen. This is an unprecedented circumstance. Balance is upset far easier than we had hoped, though we knew it was a possibility that keeping things stable may be a feat.

“When are you heading back?” Mallin asks.

“As soon as we’re done here.”

Quick work is made of dragging the third sacrifice to its position, completing the trio. The ground quakes beneath us, almost throwing Alaric off his feet. Straightening, he glances down at the pulsing stone with awe. “Amazing. How do you think the deos will react when we raise them?”

“With any hope, gratefully.”

Mallin looks up, holding the head of his offering up by its hair, yanking tight at the scalp. “Centuries of planning have gone into this. Ever wonder what made us the generation worthy to see it through?”

Alaric mirrors Mallin’s hold, exposing the pale column of neck waiting to be drained with excitement. I do the same, the men we hold crying quietly .

“Just as I told my wife—this isn’t simply timing. This is destiny.”

With a curt nod, we all three drag our blades across their throats—same as I did Tabitha—to bleed them dry and satisfy the Heartstone and the Ellden clocks at once.

Rivers of red stream from the wounds, the body I hold twitching and gurgling for a wet breath that he’ll never taste again.

I stare at the black stains of decay on the Heartstone, holding my breath.

Mallin and Alaric hold similar climatic expressions, waiting to see if this vital thing is able to heal itself in our offering.

If it dies again, can we bring it back? Or would all possibility of raising our deos and returning the world to true freedom be wiped for good, letting Parliament win?

Breath doesn’t loosen until I watch that dark stain leach away. The discoloration doesn’t fade fully, leaving a small darkened patch against the ancient stone. But the Heartstone’s beat evens out, becomes a more manageable and natural tempo.

Mallin is the first to drop his body, no longer fighting, its blood slowing to a trickle. His chest heaves, sweat beading on his brow.

“You might want to work a little harder on Delaney, Val,” Alaric warns, his mouth pinched with worry. “I don’t know how long this will be sustainable.”