Chapter 30 

Evangeline

“NOW DO YOU see how Ceven’s in danger?” Evangeline leaned against the concrete wall of the basement office, twirling her finger tirelessly around a strand of her hair. The smell of parchment and dried herbs filled the tight space, which felt even smaller with Xilo standing in the middle of it. “Sehn, who’s not Sehn, might kill him, or have other plans we don’t know about.”

“Did this Caster tell you this?” Even when Xilo whispered, it carried with it a sense of his sternness.

Evangeline dropped her hand, flinching as the piece of her hair came down with it. “It doesn’t matter where I got the information; just know that I’m telling the truth.”

He said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes.

She shook her head. It made sense that he wouldn’t believe something as crazy as this. After all, she had trouble believing it herself, but they didn’t have time to question it. Not when it could be true and put Ceven at risk. She said as much.

“My concern right now is getting you and Miss Delani to safety.”

“I want Lani to be safe, but I’m not leaving Ceven.” She threw up her hands. “He doesn’t even know about any of this!”

He pointed above him, and she pursed her lips. The door had opened moments ago, indicating the Rathan had returned from surveying the borders. After her and Xilo’s excursion last night, Quan had been suspicious, taking more patrols, trying to sniff out the plan Ceven had hatched from the start.

“I’ll make sure word gets to him,” Xilo said, but it didn’t sound convincing. “But it’s too dangerous for you to return to the castle.”

He doesn’t believe me. She wanted to howl in frustration. “Never mind.”

She went to storm past him when he stepped in her path. She craned her neck up to look at him and cursed at how tall Aerians were.

“Need I remind you, you will not leave this house until given further orders.” He took in her expression. “Ceven wishes for your safety. If you take matters into your own hands, he will do everything in his power to protect you. Even at the cost of his own life.” His eyes bore into hers. “I won’t have that happen.”

Uneasiness settled over her skin. She had never felt uncomfortable around Xilo—awkward, yes, but never in danger. This time, she couldn’t be too sure.

 

 

Evangeline held the pendant Raiythlen had left for her, the same metallic necklace that had hung around his neck when he’d appeared in her and Lani’s room. The symbol etched into the silver plate reminded her of a keyhole enclosed in a circle. She didn’t know what it meant in the Castanian language. Beside it, in the drawer closest to her side of the bed and farthest from Lani’s sleeping figure, was a palm-sized vial, a pouch of dust, and a note containing instructions. How thoughtful of him.

Despite Xilo’s veiled threat from earlier, she planned to do exactly what he said not to do—take matters into her own hands. If Xilo wouldn’t believe her or help Ceven, she would just have to convince Petri and the others. With them, she had the means to help Lani and get back to Ceven. Even if it meant having to face the west wing again. Or Vane. Or the king himself.

The pendant shook, and she realized it was herself that was shaking. She took a deep breath and tied it around her neck, a thick black cord going through the metal pendant. It hung just below the collar of her navy blouse—the darkest color she could find in Eyvan’s drawers—tied and tucked tightly into brown slacks. Throwing on her floor-length coat and dusting her face with soil, she was ready to make her escape.

The remaining rolled posters Annabelle had given her lay in the room across from theirs, the one with the twin beds that Xilo chose as his temporary sleeping quarters tonight. It was too risky to bring them back with her.

From her pocket, she pulled out Quan’s leather flask and took a sip. The saliver solution stole her breath, the liquid burning like fire down her throat and making her want to immediately hurl, but she gripped her nose and held back. It didn’t hurt any less the first time, but she handled it a lot better this time around, after the Rathan had given her his flask. A surprising gift, if it could be called that.

Quan had given it to her after a small fight they’d had earlier that day. Still reeling in disappointment after her and Xilo’s previous conversation, Evangeline had brought her Caster book downstairs again and sat at the kitchen table. The sun had just slid across the dusty floorboards when Quan showed up, cotton-threaded shirt tucked into tight brown leather breeches. The same outfit he’d been wearing since they got here, yet the Rathan didn’t smell. It was a talent.

“How much saliver do you take every day?” she had asked.

He didn’t respond, not that she expected anything else, but his hand reached for his left pocket, where it stayed. It was her guess that was where he currently kept his flask. 

“How long until it creates an immunity?” she continued, this time more to herself.

 The bald Rathan had looked down and noticed the book in front of her for the first time. “I thought it was illegal for humans to know how to read in Peredia,” he said instead.

Evangeline didn’t point out that she had been doing just that since they’ve arrived here, but it proved how little he cared about her.

“It’s illegal to know how to write too. Should I show you my best cursive?”

He growled, and she smiled. Her cursive was as horrendous as her grasp on the Castanian language.

“I don’t know how you made it alive this long.” He gave her a leering glance. “Then again, being buddy with a prince probably gave you a few extra lives.”

Evangeline was proud of herself for her temper not sparking. Then again, this wasn’t anything new. He was only reiterating what humans and Nytes had thought about her ever since she became friends with the prince. “And while you’re at it, you could even say I charmed the king’s advisor. Why, I must be such a charming, lovable person to have made my way into the Aerian court.” She threw up her hands. “To be scorned by everyone and beaten nearly twice as much!” She guessed her temper wasn’t that much in check.

“If you’re so agreeable, I’ve yet to see it.”

She raised a brow. He clearly missed her sarcasm. Maybe it was only reserved for intelligent people. “Look, I’m just trying to survive. Is that so horrible?”

Quan went quiet for a moment, an unreadable look on his face. He stunned her when he took a seat across from her on the rickety chair. “I don’t know who’s more stubborn, you or Rasha.” He sighed. “Saliver is a common practice in all territories of Atiaca, thanks to Empress Zelene. I drink it every few days, taking a hearty swig.” He did a once-over. “I don’t know if a human could handle it.”

She frowned; she would be the judge of that. “How does it work? Does it hurt?” The look he gave made her feel foolish. “Well, it is poison, isn’t it?” she defended.

“Of course it hurts. It feels like claws tearing down the inside of my stomach every blasted time I drink it. The first time my bowels turned to water, and for the first sun lapse, nausea is your enemy.” He rubbed his chin before pulling out his flask and waving it in front of her. “How about this: You survive a swig, you can have the whole thing.”

Evangeline smirked. She couldn’t back down from a challenge like that.

The rest of the day her insides betrayed her, and all the while Quan laughed, but blast it if in the end he didn’t hand her that flask with—maybe, just maybe—a hint of respect in his eyes.

And now it’d save her from any unwanted Casters that came out to pursue her tonight. Or at least give her the element of surprise when their magic didn’t work.

The air prickled like needles against her flushed cheeks as she stared out the window and down at the snow-covered ground.

A pinch will soften your landing and silence it, Raiythlen’s note had read. Reaching into the brown, palm-sized pouch, she pinched a bit of the white and pink speckled dust. It caught in the flashes of moonlight that sifted through an overcast sky, almost like grounded hail twinkling in the air as it fell.

The spot at the bottom of the two-story drop morphed, the snow rescinding, overtaken by an almost gelatin-looking pink slime. She glanced back at Lani, still fast asleep. Even from beneath the patterned quilt, her skin pulsed and oozed a darkness that hadn’t left her since the west wing, the black lines wringing the life from her friend, pulling back at her skin and leeching the color from her hair.

“I’ll be back,” Evangeline whispered, her hand clenching the windowsill. “I’m going to get help. I’m going to save you.”

Lani’s chest heaved with a sigh, but Evangeline knew she was talking to herself. Convincing herself that this would work.

She stepped onto the ledge, gently shutting the window behind her. Here goes nothing, she thought as she jumped.

Icy wind scratched at her face, knocking back her hood as she plummeted to the ground. She kicked out her feet, her arms scrambling for purchase a split-second before her behind landed on something soft. The pink gelatin cushioned her fall, but she didn’t have time to be amazed as she jerked her head around, expecting Quan or Xilo to come after her any moment.

In her pocket, she found the vial of Raiythlen’s blood and popped off the top. The smell of cinnamon assaulted her before the overwhelming scent of fire took over. It made her eyes widen and her belly lurch, but most of all, it made her mouth water.

Her eyes remained fixed on the dark liquid as it swirled around the glass. To say it tempted her to down its contents was an understatement. Some instinct came from deep inside her where the darkness slept, curling around her gut, its tendrils lurching up her throat, choking her with desire.

You’ll get used to it. I couldn’t keep it down the first time either. The familiar voice, from a memory past, echoed in her head. One she now knew was Jaden’s, his low but smooth tone unmistakable and strangely alluring.

It tastes disgusting, she responded, despite not remembering this incident at all.

It does . . . but it gets easier. Trust me.

She recalled experiencing the same hallucination in Ryker’s suite, after they had dinner with the king, and before she knew Avana would betray her. Before she knew Sehn was Council member Aimee.

The sound of a door shutting jerked her attention to her left, towards the rear of the house. Somehow, Quan or Xilo had heard her.

“Pull yourself together, Eve.” Without thinking or bringing the vial too close, she dribbled a drop onto the pendant at her throat and watched in awe as her body peeled away from existence. Based on Raiythlen’s note, this wouldn’t last long, so she scrambled to her feet, not waiting to come face-to-face with one of her Nytes, and stormed towards the tavern.

Blurred lights flared in the distance from the busier district of the city, farther in, away from the towering walls. Late-night figures shuffled along the cobbled pathways that had been cleared of snow. Pathways Evangeline followed, despite the foot traffic and occasional wagon and even rarer carriage holding the wealthier Nytes of the city. She may be invisible, but she didn’t want Quan and Xilo to follow her tracks in the snow, and merging with the general populace helped hide her scent more than walking alone. She blended in with the muted brick buildings and dark alleyways. Not once did anyone give her a passing glance or a frown. The familiar stench invaded her along with the smell of smoke, as if someone had just thrown a bucket on a blazing bonfire.

When the screams hit her, her blood turned to ice.

No . . .

Evangeline took off in a sprint. Her shoulders and arms collided with Nytes and humans scrambling past her in the opposite direction as she squeezed through the crowd. The trail of smoke wafted above the two-story brick buildings that enclosed her on both sides, leading her farther until its source blazed brighter than all the streetlamps in the city combined. She shielded her face from the abrupt wave of heat that pelted her as she turned the corner and stood open-mouthed at the fire-ravaged tavern.

The fire had been burning for some time, the painted wood breaking away bit by bit to reveal a black and tarnished inside. Evangeline tried to see if anyone was still alive in the flames, searching for a familiar face—or praying not to.

The heat swatted at her exposed skin as she delved as close as possible without getting attacked by the loose flames. “No!” She choked back a sob, noticing the shriveled corpses flickering between waves of yellows, oranges, and reds. The black, unmistakable symbols appeared even darker, as if it were clinging to life while its hosts burned. These people, these innocent humans . . . Shani. They were all dead.

“You!”

Evangeline whipped around in time for someone to slam into her, taking them both to the rubble-filled ground. Pieces of glass and wood bit into her back, and she gasped as a soot-covered face appeared above her.

“You did this!” Sebastian screamed at her.

She shook her head. “I didn’t do anything! I don’t know what happened!” Her invisibility had faded that quickly? She tried to ask where the others were when the air left her throat, Sebastian’s fingers pressing into her neck.

“I told them not to trust you. I told them! And look where it got us,” he shouted as she pried at his fingers, kicking her legs. “But you won’t kill us that easily. We’re just like vermin—but worse. We’ll always come crawling back, bigger and stronger.” His grip grew tighter and tighter. “But you won’t be.”

She thrashed harder against his grip, her nails biting into his skin, leaving trails of blood, but the look in Sebastian’s eyes was crazed. Bloodthirsty. Just like the Nytes that day during Petri’s hanging, he wouldn’t stop until there was death.

Heavy footsteps fell across the cobblestone and broken debris behind her. Sebastian glanced up, his eyes widening before a metal-plated hand socketed him right in the gut. Smoke-filled air rushed back into her lungs. Needles pricked her throat as she coughed and massaged her neck. Her eyes watered as she turned, hoping to see Xilo, or even Quan, but instead met unfamiliar eyes and a brand of stars enclosing a pair of wings emblazoned on the Aerian’s plated chest.

They were surrounded by the Royal Guard.

“Search the place. We don’t want any more escaping,” said the Aerian in front of her, his voice as cold and unforgiving as she expected from a Royal Guard. A few nodded and walked off, two guards remaining by her and Sebastian, alongside the Aerian who had spoken.

Panic gripped her, even more so than when Sebastian had his hands around her throat. She couldn’t be caught. She wouldn’t.

Sebastian got back up from where he was hunched over and shoved a finger at her. “It’s her! She’s the one you want! She murdered her own father, the king’s advisor!”

The glow of the fire reflected off the guards’ metal armor and their drawn blades, shifting closer around her. Eyes fell on her, and Evangeline’s mind whizzed for a plan. Run, escape, run, escape!

“Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!” Sebastian cheered as he stumbled toward her. His eyes were still wide, but gone was the fear, replaced with the same crazed look as before. As if he had nothing left to lose.

Everything after that happened so fast.

A hand reached for her, and she yelled, “No!” as she pushed to her feet, shoving Sebastian back and fumbling for Raiythlen’s vial. She clasped it as Sebastian let loose an ear-piercing scream. The Royal Guard’s sword was now stained scarlet—and running right through the middle of the former human rebel. Time seemed to freeze as his eyes glared at her, right before shutting entirely.

“Grab her!” a guard yelled.

With shaking hands, she dumped the remaining contents of Raiythlen’s blood on her pendant. The dark liquid decorated the front of her navy shirt and brown coat, some spilling onto the cobblestoned road. It made drops in comparison to the river that flowed from Sebastian’s stomach.

“Where did she go?”

“Was that Caster magic?”

“Find her!”

The shouts and roars of the Royal Guards faded behind her as she lurched away from the toppling tavern and Sebastian’s dead body. She pummeled through alleys, shoving unsuspecting Nytes and humans out of her way, the familiar pulse of adrenaline taking hold of her limbs. Her mouth tasted of salt and copper from where her tears met her lips. And as she ran, all she could see were Sebastian’s eyes glaring at her, accusing her as his life flowed away from him.