Page 38

JAX

It’s late by the time I put Teddy away and make my way back to the Shield House. I’m trying to unravel everything that happened with Sephran, and my thoughts won’t stop spinning with guilt and regret.

It doesn’t help that I’m exhausted. I’m sore and tired and I can’t wait to fall asleep, so I can hopefully forget everything that just happened.

Then an ice-cold breeze snaps through the trees. A voice finds my ears.

— Jax.

I stop short on the walkway. The voice doesn’t sound like a voice , and it’s so soft that I could be imagining it. But I’ve already pulled my bow over my head, and my eyes search the sky.

Another cold breeze finds my skin, swirling tendrils of hair around my face. I nock an arrow without thought.

—Lay your bow on the ground. I’ve brought word from Tycho.

My heart kicks hard in my chest, and my breathing stutters. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do . Is this real? Is this a trap? But why would one of them want to trap me? Since we came to Emberfall, they’ve always just wanted to kill me.

“Where are you?” I say.

Another cold wind, stronger this time, tugging at my clothes.

—I told you to lay your bow on the ground. I’ve seen you shoot.

“Yeah, and I’ve seen scravers tear people apart.” My breath clouds in the air as I speak, and I fight not to shiver. But my fingers tighten on the bow, and I don’t let any tension out of the string. I still have nightmares of what happened in the clearing. I can still hear Molly screaming. I keep the arrow nocked and turn in a circle, my eyes searching the trees, but it’s too dark.

Frost forms on the tip of my arrow, and my eyes widen. That voice takes on a tone of impatience.

—You will lay down your bow, or I will leave. But you should know, Jax: he begged me to come.

That hits the mark. My heart gives another tug, because it could mean so many things. I shove the arrow in my quiver, then bend to set the bow on the path. My breathing is shaking, rapid clouds forming in the darkness. I lift my hands and hope they’re not about to be ripped off.

“Why did he have to beg you?” I say roughly.

— Step into the woods. I cannot risk being seen. It was challenging enough to get this far.

I step into the woods, and again I wish for my crutches, because I’m slow, limping heavily between the trees. “Please,” I say, gazing up at the branches overhead, looking for the scraver. “Please just tell me if he’s all right.”

Another cold breeze swirls around me, but this time, there’s no answer. I don’t have any weapons other than the quiver of arrows at my back, but I feel increasingly vulnerable with each step.

“This is far enough.”

I suck in a breath and turn. The scraver is standing against a tree, his gray skin and black wings blending into the shadows so effectively that I must have walked right past him. His coal-black eyes catch a faint gleam, and his hair might be as long as mine is, but it’s tough to tell in the dark. He’s barefoot and bare-chested, but dark leather trousers cling to his legs. It looks like he’s wearing a few weapons, too, though one sheath along his thigh is empty.

I swallow hard, but my mouth has gone dry. Scravers may have come to our aid in Briarlock, but I’ve seen them do far more damage since then.

“There are so many guards surrounding the castle grounds that it took quite a while to determine a way in,” he says. “And then I had to wait a remarkably long time for you to be alone.”

I should be listening to what he’s saying, but my brain won’t stop focusing on the way his fangs glint in the moonlight. I can’t believe Callyn and I once read stories of these creatures and found them captivating. My eyes want to stare, but every muscle in my body is taut, begging me to run.

But then he says, “Do you remember me?”

That snaps my eyes to his. At first, I want to say no, because the only ones that really live in my memories are the ones I’ve seen tear people apart.

But then I remember fighting at the king’s side in Briarlock, watching as a scraver helped Tycho save young Princess Sinna, delivering her into the king’s arms. I remember watching the same scraver yank an arrow of Iishellasan steel out of Tycho’s shoulder so viciously that he vomited in the leaves .

I remember how Tycho was trapped by the bargain he made to save the king’s life. A bargain that’s being held against him.

Nakiis.

“You!” New worries flare in my chest, swirling with a bit of anger. I want my bow back. I’m tempted to stab him with an arrow. My fists clench and I take a step forward. “What have you done? Why isn’t he back yet? Where is he—”

His hand snaps out, and he catches me by the throat. I feel the point of every single claw. I gasp and grab hold of his wrist automatically.

He steps close and seizes my waist with his other hand, fingers pressing under my ribs so tightly that it’s possible he’s breaking skin through my tunic. It’s so surprising that I choke on my breath, and I can’t break his hold.

“Do you want to see what your liver looks like on the outside of your body?” he says.

I shake my head quickly, then wince when his fingers tighten.

“Then perhaps we can start anew,” he says. “Tycho asked for a favor. So here I am.”

I nod, and his grip loosens just enough for me to breathe, but he doesn’t let me go entirely. The air that swirls between us is so cold, but his fingers against my neck are warm. His other hand is still pressed against my side, and I can feel every single claw. My breathing is shaking, my heart pounding like a galloping horse.

“You said he begged,” I say, and my voice is rough. “You said he begged you.”

“I didn’t make him beg. He pleaded for you , Jax, because he wanted you to know why he has not yet returned. He was worried you came to harm.”

“Is he hurt?” I whisper.

“No. He has been detained in Syhl Shallow, and he is not allowed to send word. The king does not want to stoke panic. There are too many people working against the throne. He trusts no one.”

“Detained,” I say. “Why?”

“Because of the scraver attacks.”

“Those have happened here, too.”

“I see that.” Without warning, his hand lifts from my neck, and my breath catches again. But he only touches a finger to my jaw, gently brushing along the scabs on my cheek that will certainly turn into scars. “Scraver scars are rare. Most humans don’t survive.”

“Many didn’t.”

“ You did.” His eyes hold mine, and he lets go of me altogether, taking a step back. He folds his arms and leans back against a tree. “You see why I had you lay down your bow.”

I press a hand to my neck, expecting to find trickles of blood from broken skin, but there’s none. I shiver, and it’s not entirely from the cold in the air. “Why can’t Tycho return?”

“He has enough magic in his blood that scravers can sense him. If he is attacked, a scraver would know him for a magesmith. They would kill him. But there is also growing discord within the palace, and the king worries about discontent over magic. He and Tycho argued over it, and the king refused to allow him to leave.”

“So he’s protecting Tycho? Or the kingdom?”

“Both? Neither?” Nakiis looks at me steadily, and he lifts one shoulder in an ambivalent shrug. “He could be protecting himself.”

“Why are the scravers attacking?”

“The others want to root out the remaining magesmiths to destroy them. It seems the people of Syhl Shallow are determined to drive the king right out from behind his walls—and it’s working. Once they do, there are scravers who will be waiting.”

I swallow, thinking of the number of times I’ve heard people say that the monster has returned to Emberfall—right when the Truthbringers have gained a strong foothold on both sides of the mountain. King Grey and Queen Lia Mara were nearly killed over fears of the king’s abilities, and it’s not like these attacks will endear anyone to magic.

I study him. “Why don’t you want to kill the magesmiths?”

“Because I have seen the ways of your wars. Xovaar and the others are shortsighted. Humans have us outnumbered. Their fear is currently directed at magic. But if we kill the magesmiths, we will have no allies when humans eventually turn on us .”

Xovaar. I remember the name from the first attack. “Can you stop the others?”

His black eyes hold mine, and he’s silent for a moment. “Not yet. There are too many of them—and they have found human allies among the Truthbringers.”

I frown, turning that around in my head. “Allies? But who would—”

“I can’t remain here for long, Jax. If you have a return message for Tycho, give it to me, so I can be on my way. If there have been attacks close by, I need to be swift. There are many of my kind who would harm me if they could. Things in Syhl Shallow are already perilous enough, and I will not leave my people unguarded.”

For a flash of time, he sounds vulnerable, and I frown, because it’s odd to hear vulnerability from a creature who casually mentioned ripping out my organs.

But if I’m understanding him correctly, Nakiis risked something to come here. All this way, just to carry a message, and to bring one back.

Tycho asked for a favor. So here I am.

Tycho would have to trust Nakiis to ask for this.

Nakiis would have to trust him to do it.

“Thank you for doing this,” I say, and his eyes flick back to mine. “It’s been weeks. I’ve been worried.”

Nakiis looks startled, but his lip turns up, revealing the edge of his fangs again. “As I said. He begged me to come. He will be quite relieved to know you are alive and well.” He pauses. “What message shall I bring back?”

A message. I don’t even know what to say! What can I send through a third party?

Against my will, my thoughts summon the moment Sephran pressed his mouth to mine.

It was nothing. I stopped him.

Guilt makes my chest clench anyway.

“Tell him I can be patient,” I say, and my voice has gone whisper-rough. “And when he gets back, we’ll go to Silvermoon, just like he promised.” I reach back and pull the length of twisted steel that holds my hair in a knot. My cheeks are hot, but it’s dark, and I don’t care. I hold out the pin. “Give him this. Please.”

I expect him to ask why, or what it means, but he doesn’t. His fingers close around the steel, he leaps into the air, and he’s gone.

I’m back at the door of the Shield House before I realize the weight of everything Nakiis said. My thoughts were wrapped up in memories of Tycho and the idea of him pleading with Nakiis to send a message—and the guilt I feel over what happened.

But now I’m thinking I should have paid closer attention to everything else .

It seems the people of Syhl Shallow are determined to drive the king right out from behind his walls—and it’s working.

Tycho would have paid attention to all of it. He’s been a soldier, an officer , so he’d be ten thoughts ahead, knowing exactly who to warn and what to do. I’m still just a blacksmith who barely speaks the language. I certainly can’t translate everything I just learned. It’s after midnight, so Master Hugh has long since gone home to bed. He won’t be back in the stables until morning.

I stand there at the door to the Shield House and wonder where Tycho would go, who he would tell.

But then I turn around. Across the vast grounds sits Ironrose Castle, large and dark in the moonlight.

I know exactly what Tycho would do. I just don’t want to do it.

But I grit my teeth, steel my spine, and go to fetch my horse.