Page 11

On the bright side, the world had stopped spinning.

And that was it—there was nothing else positive about this situation.

Groaning, Taly slowly became aware of her surroundings.

The wooden chair beneath her, the ropes biting into her wrists.

Her arms were wrenched back, bound tight enough to strain her shoulders.

Her socked feet splayed at odd angles in front of her, and her head—heavy.

Pulled down by something cold and biting.

A collar, perhaps? The chill of it sank into her bones. Not just cold against her skin but beneath it, like frost blooming inside her.

Pins and needles crawled through her limbs. The wheezing was back, but sharper, more insistent, like claws scraping through her lungs.

She tugged on the ropes. No give. Lifting her head was too much effort. So, she tipped it instead, surveying the world through slitted eyelids.

A tavern.

The main room was large and open, remarkably clean, with white marble floors polished to a mirror-like shine. Raw crystal arches lined the high ceiling, and they emitted a gentle glow that suffused the room with an iridescent, almost dream-like lighting.

The building was old—pre-Schism. Taly could see where it had been repaired over the years.

Patches of rough gray stone slurry mottled the walls and had been used to fill cracks in the floor.

Once smooth and uniform, the arches were now chipped and flecked with color where over time patrons had stuck little pieces of candy or gum in the gouges.

Then—a face.

Too close, too sudden, snapping into focus like a jump-cut in a nightmare.

“What the fu—” Taly jerked. The chair lurched, tilting dangerously—then a hand shot out, steadying it like a bored babysitter.

“Well, that was underwhelming,” the girl sighed. “Seriously, how did Vaughn fuck this up so many times?”

Freckles dusted her nose, and a wolfish glint sharpened dull, mortal eyes. The girl from the forest. She was barely more than a kid.

Taly blinked. “Do I know you?”

“No.” The girl rocked back on her heels.

“But I know you, Talya Caro.” She spread her arms wide, like a ring master presenting a show.

“We all do. You’re the one—the one who’s going to save us from certain doom.

At least, that’s what the boss thinks. Me?

Well…” Her eyes flicked up and down. “Let’s just say you’re not off to a strong start. ”

A wave of nausea rolled over Taly. The light from those crystal arches throbbed, leaving her head spinning, her balance tipping sideways.

With every disorienting flicker, the girl’s smile stretched a fraction wider, a predatory gleam bleeding into every line of her face. “You know, it’s funny. How someone so praised , so supposedly powerful , can end up sprawled out in the dirt, helpless .”

The girl’s voice warped, stretching and thinning, as if coming from the other end of a long tunnel. “You Fey are all the same—so reliant on your precious aether. Take that away, and you’re nothing. A swift kick to the head, and you’re down for the count. Honestly, it was almost too easy.”

Great , Taly thought. So, this was how it ended—captured by a prepubescent mercenary and no dignity left. She didn’t know where they were or how she’d gotten here, only that Skye would never let her live this down. Hell, he’d probably memorialize it in a painting.

Taly scraped in a breath. “You got a name, kid?”

The girl flashed a grin. “Sure, I’ve got a name. But if I told you, I’d have to... well, you know.” She drew a line across her throat. “I’m Vaughn’s replacement. That’s all you need to know about me. He failed to bring you in, so now it’s my turn up to bat.”

The lights flared, faded, flared again. Taly squinted, jaw clenched as her stomach rolled. “You’re with Vaughn?”

“That’s what I said.”

Which meant that her boss was Vaughn’s boss, and that was a very bad thing for Taly.

“I have friends,” she said hoarsely. “Shadow mages. They’re going to notice that I’m gone. When they do, they’ll come looking for me.”

“Those two idiots?” The girl smirked. “Yeah, I’m not worried.”

Taly stiffened. “What does that mean?” she demanded. “What did you do to them?”

“Nothing,” the girl insisted, too innocent. “They’ve ended up precisely where they need to be.” She sniggered.

Taly growled, letting her aether gather, dredging every trace she could find.

It sparked. Swelled.

Then, like a flame being snuffed out, it died.

A fresh wave of cold bit into her skin. The collar tightened, pulsing with unnatural pressure.

“What is this stone?” Taly forced out. “Why does it feel so… wrong ?”

“That’s judgesbane you’re feeling. Nasty stuff. It’s made to bind people like you. Sucks the aether right out of your bones, leaves you weak.”

“Right, because I was such a massive threat, wheezing on the ground like a half-dead rat.”

The girl giggled. “It was pretty funny. Like, I know some things are pre-determined, but c’mon—you could’ve made it a little more challenging.”

She sauntered to the bar, tossing Taly a wink before disappearing through a door behind it.

Taly listened, heart pounding. A heavy scrape echoed from the other side—something dragging across the floorboards.

The door swung open.

The girl reappeared, pushing a metal cart.

In a high-backed chair was a man—unmoving. Dressed like a noble, suit crisp and pressed.

A dinner guest, seated just-so.

The light from the arches cast strange, shifting patterns over his skin.

The girl hummed a little tune as she wheeled the cart carefully to a table set with disturbing care—plates, cutlery, everything. Two long, tapered candles in silver prickets dotted the center with a bouquet of purple gotham laurel between them. The tablecloth was pristinely white.

She straightened the man’s head, patting his cheek with mock satisfaction. “There we go. Can’t have dinner without a proper host.”

“This is so weird,” Taly murmured.

The girl leaned down, placing her ear close to the man’s mouth—as if listening.

She nodded thoughtfully, then straightened. “He says you’re not making enough of an effort. I have to agree. Ooh, I know.”

She turned and vanished into the back room again.

Taly forced herself to breathe. It hurt.

A few muffled thumps. Rummaging. Then the girl reappeared, beaming, holding a wide-brimmed hat in one hand, a tube of lipstick in the other.

Taly stared.

The girl shook her head. “Can’t have you looking like that to meet the boss. He’s a very important man.”

She placed the hat on Taly’s head, adjusting the angle. “Perfect.” Then, she twisted open the lipstick, the bright red tip catching the dim, flickering light, and smeared it across Taly’s lips. The application was rough and careless.

Taly gritted her teeth.

The girl stepped back, admiring her work. “There. Now you’re dressed for dinner.”

Taly knew exactly what this was.

Not pain. Not even torture. Something worse.

A game.

A lesson in powerlessness.

She needed to get out of here. Now. And that started with getting that damn collar off her neck.

The girl all but skipped back to the bar. While her back was turned, Taly made her move.

Slowly, deliberately, she tapped her toe on the marble. Two long, one short.

The shadows at her feet stirred.

The girl hopped onto the wooden counter, balancing a tattered book on her knee. One leg dangled, swinging lazily.

Taly could taste the lipstick. She hated—Shards, she hated —that she couldn’t wipe it off.

“How old are you?” she asked. “You couldn’t be more than what… ten?”

“Practically 11.”

“So… ten .”

That earned her a glare over the rim of the book.

“No offense, but aren’t you a little young to”— already be such a sadistic little shit? —“have an established career as a mercenary?”

The girl clicked her tongue. “Not all of us had a wealthy benefactor with a human savior complex ready to swoop in and rescue us from our tragic backstories.” She flipped a page. “We had to become our own heroes.”

“You sure seem to know a lot about me, kid.”

“The boss gave us all a dossier.”

“And I get the feeling you don’t like me.”

The girl didn’t even look up. “Then you have two brain cells to rub together. Congratulations.”

“Can’t help but wonder why.”

The shadows thickened as a rustle of air slipped through the room.

The girl finally looked up, lazily turning a page. “You really want to know?”

Taly nodded.

The girl’s lip curled. “It’s because you’re a disappointment. You were supposed to be this big, unstoppable force—able to survive anything. But now that you’re in front of me, I don’t know.” A shrug. “I think you mostly just got lucky.”

The girl hadn’t noticed. Not the deepening shadows. Not the tiny, clawed paw creeping toward the keyring hanging from her belt. Her heel idly thunked against the wood.

Metal tinkled.

The girl paused.

“So, you took my weapons,” Taly said, and the girl looked at her instead. “My coat, even my boots—smart. If I did manage to run, I wouldn’t get far before I had to stop for shelter.”

The girl scoffed and went back to reading. “The dossier failed to mention how much you like to yammer.”

“And wait, is this…?” Taly lowered her shoulder, testing how the ropes tightened and shifted. Just that little bit of effort left her winded. “Is this a bootlegger’s knot?”

A snort. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I’m assuming Kir taught you this. Down at Silvermist Landing? It’s kind of his thing.”

The girl finally looked up. “You hang out with smugglers?”

Taly’s mouth twitched. “I was one. Briefly.”

A scoff. “Yeah right. You’re too much of a bleeding-heart milksop.”

“Well, even bleeding-heart milksops have to eat.” At the nape of her neck, Taly felt it—the click of a key sliding into place.

“And while this knot is good for securing barrels at a near vertical angle”—she exhaled, shifting her wrists—“it’s not great for binding.

Comes loose with just a little bit of work. ”

The girl’s smile was pure, youthful arrogance. “Too bad you’ve got that collar around your neck.”