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ERYX

I melt into the thick shadows lining Orthani’s side streets, my pulse thrumming with predatory anticipation.

The city’s eternal gloom welcomes me, swallowing my movements with ease.

My boots make almost no sound on the uneven cobblestones.

At times, a faint torchlight glimmers around a corner, but I slip away before the guards can register my presence.

This route is etched into my memory by now—an abandoned corridor that skirts Vaelith’s estate, threading past collapsed walls and disused archways.

In the distance, the estate’s high towers loom, washed in wavering torchlight.

Dark silhouettes of guards pace along the upper walls, scanning the perimeter for intruders.

They never seem to spot me. Good. I’ve prepared for weeks, testing each guard’s routine and coaxing some into letting me slip by unnoticed.

My blood quickens at the challenge of infiltration.

If there’s anything I love more than outsmarting Orthani’s watch, it’s cornering the purna who’s caught in their snare.

I cross a narrow footbridge spanning a half-dried canal.

The reek of stagnant water clings to the air.

Past the canal, Vaelith’s estate gardens begin, a sprawl of manicured hedges and cunningly shaped trees.

At night, the place looks haunted, lit by discrete mage-lamps that cast pale glows along winding paths.

A figure in black leathers guards the rear gate.

I exhale, letting the faint hum of my chaos-laced magic swirl around me.

A gentle push to his mind—like a whisper saying, “look away”—and he straightens, gazing into empty space.

Perfect. I slip past him, rounding a thick hedge, my heart pounding in savage triumph.

Selene must be inside. Perhaps she’s forced to stay in her assigned chamber, or maybe Vaelith has her training at all hours.

Every rumor I hear suggests she’s grown in skill, using that lethal mind of hers to outwit his officers.

My lips curl at the thought. If she’s indeed thrived despite Orthani’s attempts to tame her, that proves she’s worth my time.

We have unfinished business. She needs to know I have more to offer than illusions of safety.

If she wants freedom, I can deliver it. If she craves vengeance, I can feed that hunger until we reduce Orthani’s council to rubble.

I pause behind an ornate statue of a serpent swallowing a sword.

The estate’s walls rise ahead, studded with small windows, mostly dark.

I’ve mapped out her wing: a southwestern corner, second floor.

Usually guarded, but I sense a single watch posted there now.

I scan for signs of movement, and sure enough, a lone figure stands on the balcony above, leaning on a spear in boredom. Good. One guard is manageable.

I scale a low scaffolding along the wall, boots finding easy purchase in the stone’s cracks.

My breath comes slow and steady. The wind rustles a few distant trees.

The guard remains oblivious. I climb higher, hooking my gloved fingers over a protruding ledge, then vault onto the second-floor balcony.

In the gloom, I crouch, letting the guard pass by just a few paces away.

Another mental nudge hushes his suspicions, turning his gaze to the courtyard below.

He steps aside, offering me a narrow chance to slip through a half-shuttered window.

My heart hammers, but each movement is a calculated dance.

The window yields under my pressure. I swing inside, landing silently on polished floorboards.

A dim corridor stretches ahead, lined with tall tapestries that depict Orthani’s conquests in lurid color.

The corridor is quiet—no voices, no footsteps.

Perfect. I press forward, recalling the approximate location of Selene’s room from previous glimpses.

I pass two closed doors, each with the faint scratch of occupant presence.

Not her. The next door is slightly ajar, a weak lamp flickering inside.

With precise caution, I peer through the gap.

Empty. The bed’s unmade, suggesting she recently left.

The lamp’s nearly burned out, its flame guttering in the stale air.

My chest twists with mild disappointment.

Could she be training with Vaelith’s men at this hour?

Possibly. My mind flickers with the possibility that I might find her in the orchard or some lesser-known nook.

She’s cunning enough to seek privacy from the guards.

I slip back into the corridor, rummaging for alternative leads.

Then I hear footsteps, faint but drawing closer.

My spine straightens. No time to hide. I flatten behind a large tapestry that nearly touches the floor, pressing my body into the wall’s recess.

Within seconds, a figure steps into view—a guard, chainmail clinking softly.

He scans the corridor, frowns at the emptiness, and continues on his route.

As soon as he’s gone, I exhale, tension knotting my shoulders.

This infiltration grows riskier, but I refuse to leave without seeing her.

I retrace my steps, slipping down a back stair to the first floor.

The hall below is dimly lit by wall sconces, and I catch the faint echo of voices from a side lounge.

Slowly, I edge around the corner, glimpsing a cluster of Vaelith’s soldiers lingering with cups of ale.

One of them mentions her name: Selene, the new purna.

My blood stirs. They’re complaining she’s too brash, too uncooperative.

Another soldier laughs, saying Vaelith tries to keep her in check, but she’s a handful.

I grin. That’s my girl. If only they knew just how little “in check” she can be.

My chaos magic churns in my gut, urging me to sow havoc.

For now, I need stealth, so I retreat into a side passage.

A corridor leads me to a lesser door that opens onto the estate’s southwestern courtyard.

The pale moon overhead outlines a small garden, the grass silvered with dew.

My instincts say she might be out here. She always struck me as someone who seeks space to breathe free of prying eyes.

And I’m right. I glimpse her silhouette behind a cluster of sculpted bushes, moving in a slow, measured pattern.

She’s wearing the dark leathers Orthani assigned, her hair pulled up in a messy knot.

My heart kicks. She doesn’t notice me at first—her body tenses, perhaps practicing a stance or simply restless.

I sense her frustration, that caged fierceness.

She shifts, half-turning, and I see her face illuminated in the moonlight.

A flicker of longing stirs in me; I crave a real alliance, or perhaps just to unravel the tension between us.

When she spins around, her gaze snags on my shadow. She stiffens, dagger sliding from its sheath with startling speed. My lips part in a soft laugh. “Impressive reflexes,” I say quietly, stepping forward, palms raised to show I’m not attacking.

Her eyes narrow, recognition flashing across her features. “Eryx.”

My pulse leaps at the sound of my name on her lips. “We meet again, Selene.” I let a roguish grin curve my mouth. “Aren’t you a sight in this dismal courtyard.”

She doesn’t lower the dagger. “You’re insane to sneak in here. Vaelith’s men will carve you into pieces if they find you.”

I shrug, feigning confidence. “I’ve spent years evading Orthani’s best. A few more guards won’t stop me.

” The tension between us crackles. I sense her warring emotions—relief at seeing an alternate path to freedom, or dread that I might complicate everything.

Possibly both. “Let me guess,” I whisper, stepping closer. “You’re tired of Vaelith’s leash.”

Her grip tightens on the dagger hilt. “He’s not the only threat I’m juggling. Zareth creeps into my nights. The entire council wants to exploit me.” A fleeting vulnerability crosses her expression, replaced by fierce defiance. “You said you have ways to help. Prove it.”

I angle my head. “I can smuggle you out, if you desire. I have safe houses in the city, allies who owe me. But that’s not free. My price isn’t coin—it’s your power. I want you to help me tear down Orthani’s council.”

Her jaw sets, stormy emotions flickering in her eyes. “You want me to turn my magic on the council? That’s a big demand.”

A low laugh escapes me, laced with bitterness.

“They slaughtered my family, destroyed my noble name. This city fed on their blood. I’ll see the council burn.

If you’re clever, you want the same. Orthani is a chain around your neck, no matter how well Vaelith treats you.

You want to rescue Ai, yes? Only a broken Orthani frees her. ”

Mentioning Ai makes her tense further. She lowers the dagger fractionally, wrestling with her next words. “You speak of rampaging revenge, Eryx. That’s not a simple cause. Ai might be caught in the crossfire, or used as a shield if we openly wage war.”

I exhale, stepping close enough that moonlight reveals the faint lines of exhaustion near her eyes.

“I’m not advocating a blind assault. We can plan—cripple their supply lines, sabotage their strongholds.

Drive the council to its knees. Then we rescue Ai.

I only ask you harness your magic for real damage.

Not these half-measures Vaelith tries to corral. ”

She stares at me, tension taut as a drawn bow. The orchard’s night air clings to us, each breath swirling with potential. “You say sabotage,” she whispers, “like it’s the simplest path. But Orthani’s wards are fierce. We can’t just march in and kill them all.”