Page 29

Chapter twenty-nine

Lux perched upon a stool, enveloped by the night. A sliver of moonlight attempted to penetrate the small window of her workroom, only to be cut short by the vining plants as they slumbered.

She rested her back against the far wall, studying the faint glimmers of her short life’s work, the outline of The Risen , resting closed before them, and the rolling vial of lifeblood between her fingers. Over and over, the silver liquid turned, shimmering across her hands.

Her theories did the same within her mind.

The mayor clearly was harvesting lifeblood, that much was certain. And Ghadra’s poor continued to die from some unknown, incurable plague. That was also certain.

What remained less so, however, was whether the two were connected. How much lifeblood did one family need?

And where, for goodness sake, was Riselda?

She wasn’t particularly worried for her aunt’s safety even with the Shield’s murder beneath her feet. Rather, she itched with interest over what slew of excuses the mayor had offered up for his minions’ behavior, and what promises he had made in exchange for secrecy.

Perhaps she waited for nothing. He was clearly untouchable. More likely, he would laugh in Riselda’s face, deny all, and see her through the doors.

A sudden shadow obscured the window, casting Lux in one in turn. On instinct, she hid the lifeblood within the pocket of her skirt, but the figure moved on, simply passing through. Though in the dead of night, that wasn’t reassuring either. Nothing good happened at this hour.

A scuffle outside sent her standing. Grunting and groans and finally a shout that was abruptly cut off, and Lux found herself kneeling on the counter as vines sighed in irritation at being awakened. She squinted through the clouded glass.

A blurred outline of a body lay draped partway across the street as another knelt beside it. A thief. The figure hurried through pockets, nimble fingers disappearing within his coat with possessions never meant to be his. With a darting glance about darkened windows, he swept away.

Lux watched on for a moment longer, but when the body didn’t move, she landed back on her feet. She walked across her workroom, toward the door.

There absolutely would not be another body decaying on her doorstep.

Mellow night air brushed across her skin as Lux stepped through the doorway and rounded the corner. Without the hazy glass to mar her view, the distinct form of a man greeted her, his head lolled to one side as if in sleep.

Surely he must be dead. She stepped to his side, avoiding the trickling stream of thick liquid following the grooves of stone beneath it. Not a man, in fact, but a boy—much too young to be out at this hour. Several years younger than herself, his face appeared almost angelic, as if he rested contentedly, his mind filled with pleasant dreams.

Sad business. She made to turn when a shuddered breath left his chest. With a quick glance down at the boy’s still form, she frowned. Well, now she definitely didn’t know what to do with him.

Lux tipped her head to the side, observing his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. He would probably still die. But judging from his clothing, his family could likely afford to bring him back. Once the appropriate amount of time had passed.

“You idiot boy.” She shook her head at his folly. The rich thought themselves invincible. The youngest of them, even more so. This boy was probably gracing the Light’s gambling dens as they turned a blind eye to his smooth chin due to the coin in his pockets. That coin was certainly no more.

Lux shifted her feet against her bed’s call. She really didn’t feel like slipping through Ghadra’s streets to find a physician in an attempt to save a child that may be dead by the time they arrived.

She huffed a sarcastic laugh as she turned. The few physicians she knew were likely deep in the dens themselves, their minds clouded with drink and whatever else. They would be of no help to her. She told herself she would simply revive him when the family discovered his unfortunate death. She rounded the building’s corner again.

Her breath caught, and she leapt back as a hooded figure, their face obscured in shadow, stood silent before her door.

“Gah! What are you doing perched outside my door like that? Unless you come on business, away with you!”

Her heart returned to its normal rhythm as the figure lowered the hood in response to her demand for answers.

“I should be asking you the same question, Lucena. I would have thought you sleeping after your trying ordeal.” Riselda’s eyes glinted in the moonlight. They shimmered like lifeblood, and Lux flung her hand to her pocket at the reminder.

Still there. Thank fate.

Riselda tracked the movement before her gaze met Lux’s once more. Her eyebrow retreated beneath tendrils of dark hair as she raised it in question.

“There is a boy dying around the corner. Mugged. The shouts woke me.”

Riselda said nothing more, skirting around her instead to validate such claims herself. Lux groaned. Exhaustion had sunk its teeth into her, refusing to let go. She didn’t want to deal with the boy tonight. Covering a yawn, she followed Riselda to the body.

Bending low, Riselda turned his head toward her own with two slender fingers. She tutted. “Nasty head injury. A club or the like. Wretched.” She released him, and his head fell back to its resting place. “Help me get him inside, Lucena.”

Lux’s blood slowed, ice hardening her veins. “I’d rather not.”

“Excuse me?”

Lux bit into sore lips and immediately regretted the action as sharp pain sliced into her. You may as well tell her . “Warm blood, Riselda. It bothers me.”

Her aunt scrutinized her a moment more before she chuckled to herself. “And to think I spent so much time attempting to make you into Ghadra’s next Healer. How wrong I was.” She sighed in resignation. “Grab his feet at the least. That should be a safe distance for you.”

Riselda didn’t wait for her to comply, but instead, grabbed beneath the boy’s arms, lifting his upper body against her own. Not a sound left her lips, even though he would never be described as small. Reluctantly, Lux gripped his boots. They were much nicer than her own, and she scowled. If he had died, maybe she could have afforded a new pair.

With one arm around the boy’s chest, Riselda used the other to open the door, and Lux held back a grunt of protest as she carted his legs in after her. Down the stairs, and onto the smooth worktable he went. Riselda lit several dust-coated candlesticks tucked away in a corner before eyeing the shelves in contemplation. Why she didn’t use a lamp was beyond Lux.

“If you don’t need me—”

“Are wyvern claws not hard to come by? I would have thought them more difficult to procure than howlers.” Riselda studied the jar with interest, her finger sifting through them.

A rattled breath wheezed from the body at their backs.

“The north has a population problem, I’m told. They grow docile and fat, spending more time lounging on mountain peaks than taking to the skies and terrorizing villages. Also, they apparently mate like rabbits.” Though that could have been the marsh-grass cigar speaking for the woman from whom the tale came. And it certainly hadn’t brought the price down any.

Riselda huffed a laugh, replacing the lid, and then the jar, back on the shelf. The decanter she selected next had its top removed. “Witch hazel.” She pulled down several jars of various mushrooms and a vase of dried petals Lux had never paid much attention to. With her selection of ingredients displayed before her now, Riselda took to measuring.

“I thought you were no longer healing, Riselda?” Lux watched a drop of blood ooze from within the boy’s ear, splattering onto her table. She grimaced.

The pestle continued to grind petals against the mortar in a rhythmic pattern beneath her aunt’s hand. “I’m no longer Ghadra’s Healer, Lucena. That doesn’t prevent me from using my brilliance when I choose to do so. Besides, he’s just a child. There’s still hope for him. Hope that he won’t turn into a despicable man.”

It must be the exhaustion clouding her mind, allowing Lux’s lips to move so freely. “Did something happen between you and the mayor?”

Her aunt didn’t pause, instead dumping the contents into a small wooden bowl before pouring a generous amount of the witch hazel into the mixture. She laughed, low in her throat, and counted out a handful of mushrooms.

“You believe my view on men to be tainted? Perhaps it is.” She shrugged unapologetically before bending to inhale the concoction. The flowery scent wafted toward Lux, stinging her nose. “Or perhaps, darling girl, you are na?ve.”

Indigo eyes seared her own, but Lux didn’t look away. Her aunt’s gaze churned, retreating to a past Lux could only guess at. Riselda broke away first, smearing the lumpy paste onto the wound extending from the boy’s temple to his left ear. Red dripped from her fingers, and Lux fought back a gag.

She could never have been a healer.

“The mayor denied knowledge of the torture occurring within his prison. As I knew he would. But he did seem genuinely upset about your abduction. He denied its authorization and appeared shocked that the captain had handed out the punishment. Though he became quite irritated when I informed him of the death. All it took was a reminder of your skill. And mine as well. He plans to bring the entire Shield forward to dole out a forced recollection that he is the sole authorizer of such things. Of course, I suggested the other two men be found and dealt with. A quick death, I think, would be much too generous, but it’s ultimately not my decision.”

Riselda observed her work, and Lux absentmindedly noted that the boy’s breaths were becoming fewer as the minutes ticked by. “Power like that cannot be bought, Lucena. The brilliance in your veins alone holds enough to sway Bartleby Tamish, and that is no small thing.”

Lux knew she should be paying attention to what her aunt said, but she yawned instead. “I think he’s very nearly dead, Riselda. Do you need your books? I’ve kept them in the alcove.”

Riselda’s responding smile was a touch condescending. “I’ve those words seared in my mind, darling. Thank you, but I haven’t had a need for them in a very long time.”

And to further prove her point, Riselda began:

“ Within mists, beneath rays, we summon from sleep.

To lessen weight.

To mend all aches.

Peace in whispers, strength that saves.

Stitches and binds.

This cycle rewinds.”

Riselda’s words sent Lux back to her childhood, listening to the statuesque woman at her side as she healed an old woman who had fallen, breaking her hip in two places. It had amazed her then, sending shivers down her spine. It did the same now, as all witnessed works of brilliance around her did, and she couldn’t help but lean forward, studying the wound as it shot through with wisps and whorls of gold, stitching itself closed before her eyes.

“Stay with him. I’ll fetch some rags.”

Riselda left her alone to monitor the boy as his chest rose and fell deeply. As the blood dried beneath him. Lux slouched onto a stool. His eyes fluttered open, and she allowed him to survey the room before flinging himself to sitting.

“Calm down, boy. You’re safe.” She was not in the mood to deal with a frantic child.

Hurry up, Riselda .

“Where am I? What happened to me? Is that…my blood?” The boy leapt further down the table, away from the puddle at his fingertips. His frenzied eyes roved over her face, her clothing, before studying the room. “No… You’re the—”

“She is the necromancer, yes. But you didn’t die. It was I, who healed you.” Riselda swept in with glittering eyes and long skirts trailing behind her.

The boy’s eyes rounded. First with fear, then in pink admiration. “I was taking a moonlight stroll, lost in contemplation of the wonders of life, when I was accosted. I remember nothing else. Thank you, madam. I am indebted to you.”

Lux rubbed her temples.

“No need, young man. Though perhaps you should save your contemplations for mornings or dinner time from now on.”

“Wise words. Yes, I believe I will. Thank you. May I…” The boy pushed from the table, stretching to his full height, his heels leaving the floor in an attempt to match that of Riselda’s. “May I inquire as to your name?”

Her aunt smiled. “Riselda.”

“Magnificent. Are you named after a flower? It must be a flower.”

“No. Nothing of the sort. Will you be able to make it home safely?”

He puffed out his chest. “Certainly.”

Riselda nodded. “Be on your way then. The gambling dens have terrible people hidden within. Be mindful as you pass them by.”

Pink cheeks deepened to red. “Yes ma’am.”

Riselda handed him a cloth to wipe his face lest his mother faint at the sight of him, and with persistent thanks and fervent compliments, the boy finally stepped through their door to be swallowed by the darkness.

A snort of laughter left Lux at his departure. “You’ve gained an admirer.”

“Admiration is more effective than fear…in the long run.” With a pointed stare at Lux, Riselda returned to the workroom, mopping up the remaining blood. “Though anything that delves deeper should be promptly smothered at the source.”

She wasn’t about to argue with her aunt, though her experience thus far had been quite the opposite. Fear of her brilliance had allowed her solace from many who would have hurt her otherwise. Admiration only invited them in.

But Lux wasn’t sure she disagreed with Riselda on the latter. The image of Shaw’s eyes narrowed in anger sent her own flaring again, and she began shoving jars back onto the shelves. The plants swayed in admonishment for her disregard of the noise she made.

Riselda paused, studying her progress. When a vial shattered at last, she intervened.

“I can clean up, Lucena. Get some rest.”

Lux had obeyed at first. Though now, instead of sleep, she pressed against twin bruises formed over her chest, naked in the night. They hurt. Purple and blue, they shone starkly against her pale skin. It would seem that even shadow blades could mark a lingering reminder of the previous day’s nightmare. Lux covered them quickly. She could feel her mind drudging up memories she was too tired to wrestle back to the recesses and turned her gaze onto her own reflection instead.

A much fainter bruise decorated her cheekbone. Morana’s parting gift. She had never struck Lux before, but rather chose to sneer in passing instead.

Look at her hair. I wonder if her parents had wished for a boy. Is that why they kept it so short?

Goodness! That unhealthy, pale skin. It’s almost translucent. Don’t flit about in the night, child, or someone will take you for a ghost and chase you back to the forest, surely.

Some days I wish I could murder my family, too. I would never of course. I love them, after all.

Lux glanced to the opposite side of her wardrobe, but the lifeblood was tucked safely away once again. She closed the doors with a snap and climbed into bed.

Shaw had wanted to venture into the prison. She had asked him to accompany her to the forest first. Lux sighed, extinguishing the lamp at her side.

No matter.

She had been alone for nine years. She had grown up, faced the worst of Ghadra, and made them fear her. She could handle a few trees, a phantom and a howler or two on her own.

But she would buy a new knife first.