by T. A. White
Tate took a step up only to be stopped by Archie holding his arm in front of her.
“Take the traitor with you,” he ordered.
Gregory nodded several times in agreement. “Yes, take him with you. I’m not assuming responsibility for that maniac.”
Tate hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at Ryu. After a short pause, he jerked his chin down in a nod, not looking particularly happy.
“Fine. Let’s go, Tyne,” Tate said.
Tyne bounced in Ryu’s direction. “Just like old times.”
Ryu ignored him and held his hands out to Gregory and made a ‘give me’ motion. “Restraints.”
Tyne pursed his lips in a frown as Ryu took the handcuffs Gregory’s subordinate handed him and placed them on Tyne’s wrists.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Yes.” Ryu shoved the other man in front of him, forcing him to climb the stairs first. The other guards and Gregory stepped to the side to make way.
Tate started after them.
Archie remained unmoving, standing like a statue as he stared past Tate. “I see your friend didn’t heed my warning.”
Tate kept her expression blank as she silently cursed Night. He was just as prone to drawing her into a shitstorm as Dewdrop. He was simply a little more lowkey about it.
“You should let him know—curiosity killed the cat.”
“He’s not a cat,” Tate said automatically.
And he also wasn’t easy to kill. If Archie went down that road, he’d find that out for himself. Maybe there’d even be a third Obsidian Lord as a result.
Her footsteps didn’t pause as she passed him, following Ryu up the stairs. A weight lifted off her as she stepped through the final door separating her from the outside. The world was bright, almost too bright after so long spent in the dim light of the Deeps.
She breathed deep, rejoicing in the crisp air that filled her lungs. It was a welcome change from the scent of despair and hopelessness that still clung to her clothes.
She couldn’t say it was much warmer out here, but something about the chill felt refreshing. Maybe it was the sun on her face or the slight breeze that stirred her hair, but everything felt better above the surface.
Next to her Dewdrop inhaled, filling his lungs before releasing his breath slowly, basking in the feeling of freedom, the same as Tate.
“What did the Obsidian Lord say to you?” Dewdrop asked.
Tate frowned at the troublesome Veles prowling next to her. They crossed the paved walkway toward the prison gate, the last thing that separated them from true freedom.
“I’m not sure you want to know.”
She certainly wished she could pretend ignorance.
Dewdrop’s expression shifted in a way that told her he had a good guess as to the contents of the conversation.
“Okay. Share. How did you get down there in the first place?” Dewdrop asked Night.
The Deeps were virtually impregnable—or at least it had been before today. Christopher’s escape and the connecting tunnel changed things. However, the upper levels should still be difficult to infiltrate. It was possible to bribe your way in—but sneaking? No.
Night’s whiskers tilted forward. A Veles never reveals his secrets.
Tate’s eyes narrowed. Something told her it was more than that.
“How long have you been able to infiltrate the prison?” Ryu asked, voicing Tate’s thoughts.
Night’s tail flicked as he ignored Ryu’s question. It was tantamount to a confession for the Veles.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of wish I was still part of the Night Courts. I can see so much potential in something like that. The trouble we could get up to if we weren’t afraid of arrest.” For a moment, Dewdrop forgot his pain as he got lost in fantasies of dominating the criminal underworld.
He came back to himself seconds later, shooting a glance at Tate. “Though I suppose it could still come in handy if you ever get arrested.”
“Can we please not talk about such things while still standing on prison grounds?” Tate asked in a pained voice.
The last thing they needed was to get arrested by mistake. Already, the two guarding the gate were giving them looks like they wanted to stop them. To Tate’s relief, they didn’t object as her group stepped outside the gate.
Tate released a sigh of relief as they marched toward their carriage.
“What now?” Dewdrop asked, starring at the carriage like it was the answer to all his problems.
Tate hesitated. There was one more stop she needed to make before heading back to the palace—especially now. Something in Christopher’s memories triggered Tate’s instincts. She needed to know what it meant. It might prove important to the coming battle.
A battle she could already feel getting closer.
Time was critical and couldn’t be wasted, but it went against who she was to abandon Dewdrop.
“Dewdrop is with me. We’ll escort Tyne to the palace and report on matters. You take care of what’s necessary on your end.” Ryu’s eyes met Tate’s, assurance radiating from them. He’d get Dewdrop the medical attention he needed.
“I can go with Tate,” Dewdrop objected.
Night rose onto his hind legs and pressed a paw on Dewdrop’s injured arm. The boy’s face whitened, and he caught himself on the carriage so he didn’t pass out. Dewdrop’s hand gave out and he ended up sprawling awkwardly on the foot rail.
You’re not going anywhere except to a healer, idiot cub.
“I’ll be fine.” Dewdrop’s voice sounded thinner and weaker than before, giving lie to his words. He’d be lucky if he didn’t pass out as soon as he tried to stand.
Night swiped a paw at him, not fully retracting his claws. Dewdrop yelped and stared down at the four slashes in his pant leg.
“Are you crazy? What if you broke skin?”
I won’t tell you again. You’re going with Ryu.
“But—” Dewdrop looked lost as he glanced from Night to Tate, his heart in his eyes. He didn’t want to abandon Tate or let her go without him.
Tate rubbed his head, deliberately turning his hair into a bird’s nest. He ducked away trying to avoid her hand, but she was merciless, not stopping until it stuck up from his head in unruly tufts.
That was what he got for trying to push himself when he was already injured.
“I need you to do something for me,” she told him, when he finally managed to dislodge her hand.
She wouldn’t put it past Dewdrop to come after them as soon as Ryu took his eye off him if he wasn’t sufficiently distracted. After all, there was a reason Tate and Dewdrop got along so well. Such a move would be in her wheelhouse.
He needed a job. Not just any job either. It had to have meaning, not something assigned as a method to get him out of the way. Otherwise, it would be an insult to both of them. A way of saying she didn’t trust him enough to rely on.
Tate treasured her friends. As afraid as she was of Dewdrop or Night getting hurt, she was more afraid of driving them away through her actions.
“Check in on Daisy and the dragonlettes for me,” she told him. “Make sure there’s no remnants from last night.”
Dewdrop’s frown was unhappy, but he gave her a slow nod.
“When you’re done with that, see if you can get hold of your Ahnteela.”
Ahnteela was his many times over great grandmother and was the hidden leader of their group of Avertine, a traveling clan comprised mostly of sleepers and their descendants. Those who didn’t fit easily in the rest of society.
More importantly, she was in the battle against the Creators with Tate and had been awake centuries longer than her. There was a chance she might remember something Tate hadn’t.
“Why do you need her?”
“Something bothers me about Ai’s new appearance. See if she can tell you anything about the minor gods.” Tate hesitated. “Ask if she knows about the phrase ‘If one Aurelia rises the other falls,’ or
‘occupied territory.’”
The second she could guess but she’d prefer to have confirmation from Ahnteela before she made any moves.
Dewdrop finally nodded. “I’ll use the paired communication mirror. As long as they haven’t traveled out of range, I’ll find out what I can.”
Tate was now glad they’d accepted one half of the paired mirrors that the Silva had awarded to them while they were in Silvain. The other traveled with the Avertine and would enable them to communicate even over long distances.
Night stretched onto his back feet, clawing at the handle of the carriage door. Tate hid her wince as he left several scratches on the Lord Provost’s carriage. Hopefully, the Lord Provost’s people didn’t come after her later, trying to recoup the cost of having them fixed.
Finally, the door unlatched, nearly hitting Dewdrop in the back. Night dropped back to four legs and fixed Dewdrop with the kind of look only a parent could perfect. One inspiring both guilt and simultaneous obedience.
“Fine,” Dewdrop grumbled, finding his feet and stumbling inside.
Ryu paused next to Tate. “I’ll take care of him.”
Tate believed him. Ryu was one of the most steadfast and reliable people when it mattered. At least for those who he considered his.
Tate started to lift onto her toes to give Ryu a kiss when she stopped and glanced to the side. Tyne’s face was uncomfortably close as he watched them with a fascination usually reserved for someone viewing a play or entertainment.
The other dragon-ridden’s gaze was titillated. If he’d had snacks in his hand, Tate was sure he’d be munching on them right about now.
Ryu sent him a cool look. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t mind me. Carry on. Carry on.”
Ryu looked like he was struggling for patience. “Get in the carriage. One wrong move and I’ll end you.”
There was a snap of metal and then Tyne held his handcuffs out to Ryu. “Don’t make threats you can’t back up. We both know the emperor doesn’t want me dead and you will never defy him.”
Ryu leaned toward him; his expression lethal. “Yet.”
Tyne’s head cocked.
Ryu gave him a dragon’s smile. The kind that said he looked forward to cleaning his teeth with Tyne’s bones. “He doesn’t want you dead—yet. A lot has changed since you’ve been underground. You’ll find none of us are as you remember. Test us at your own risk.”
“Love has made you ornery, my friend,” Tyne said, climbing into the carriage next to Dewdrop before Ryu could carry out on his promise of violence.
Tate lifted her eyebrows at Ryu. “I think I’m beginning to rub off on you.”
Ryu made a sexy rumbling noise as he edged closer. “I have a few thoughts on what else you can rub on me.”
An inelegant snort of laughter escaped Tate. This man.
Tate grabbed the collar of his jacket and tugged him down. His warm lips touched hers, the gentle peck she’d planned turning into something deeper.
His mouth moved against hers as tingles raced through her. She pressed her body against his, letting passion warm her blood.
When they finally parted, their breaths caressed the others faces as they remained pressed together.
Ryu’s eyes were half-lidded as he looked at her the way an inmate might look at their last meal. Like they would die if they didn’t have it.
Tate felt an internal thrill that she stuffed down. As tempting as he was, this wasn’t the time. Not when she had an ancient Creator to hunt and a dangerous minor goddess to thwart.
“Maybe when this is over, I’ll show you exactly what type of rubbing I’m capable of,” Tate murmured.
Ryu’s eyes flared. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Reluctantly, he stepped back before turning and climbing into the carriage with one last lingering look.
Dewdrop stuck his head out of the carriage at the last moment as it started to clatter away. “Tate, don’t get into trouble without me. I mean it. Wait until I can watch your back, at least.”
Tate lifted her hand, shaking her head. “What type of person does he think I am? It’s not like I go looking for this shit.”
Hmph. Who needs him to watch your back? I’m more than enough.
Tate looked down at Night with raised eyebrows. “Says the bearcat who keeps disappearing without telling anyone.”
Night’s ears lowered as he evaded her gaze. I have my reasons.
“Do those reasons have anything to do with a certain female Veles?”
Night’s ears flattened further.
Really? And here Tate was just teasing.
Night trotted away. Let’s go.
“Are you sure?” Tate called, setting out after him. “Don’t you have an Obsidian Lord to stalk?”
No need. Mia will report if he does anything suspicious.
Tate sucked in a breath and jogged to catch up, abandoning her lazy walk. “Mia? When I told you to stop following him, I didn’t mean to hand the job off to someone else. He knows you’re watching him. You realize surveillance only works if they don’t know you’re watching, right?”
Night’s head lifted as he trotted in the direction of the temple district. Nonsense. I know what I’m doing.
Tate scoffed. “Yes, that’s why the Obsidian Lord told me curiosity killed the cat.”
Night sent her a look that asked if she was an idiot. I’m not a cat.
“That’s what I said.”
They shared a conspiring look as Tate fought against a grin. She shouldn’t encourage him—
even if it was kind of funny to hear Archie’s frustration every time he mentioned Night’s stalking.
Unable to fully hide her laughter, she pointed a no-nonsense finger at Night. “Alright, I won’t say anything more, but make sure you don’t take it too far.”
Night’s mouth parted in a feline smile. Would I do that?
Tate made a pained expression. He absolutely would.
“So, Mia, huh?” Tate said as they started walking again. “Is it something like Veles who stalk together, stay together? Some weird courtship ritual?”
Night shot her a disgusted glance before bounding ahead of her.
“What? Is it something I said?”
EIGHTEEN
Tate and Night moved silently through the cavern that housed the temple of the Saviors. For once, it was mostly empty. The pilgrims who visited gone for the day. Only a couple of guardians lurked around the edges, nearly unseen in the shadows.
At the sight of Tate and Night, one of them ducked through the hidden door that led into the main quarters.
They recognized you. Someone has a big mouth.
“He was expecting us. It makes sense that he would have informed his people beforehand.”
Though, from their quick reaction it seemed they knew what Tate looked like. Or at least the traits of her more distinctive companions, Tate conceded as her gaze fell on Night.
Tate left the guardians’ behavior and whether the grandmaster had spilled secrets he shouldn’t have for later. On silent feet she bypassed the rows of benches as she headed for the other side of the cavern where four statues waited next to an empty alcove.
There were some places that felt holy as soon as you entered them. A hushed reverence that enveloped you the moment you stepped inside. This cavern was one such place.
Tate didn’t know if this was the result of countless individuals over the years worshiping at the feet of their Saviors, or if this place had always contained the air of the divine.
The statues of the Saviors were an imposing presence. Carved into alcoves centuries ago, they resided over the cavern like silent observers. Each one of them carried the face of people Tate once knew almost as well as she knew herself. Candles flickered at their feet as they gazed out at the world with serious expressions.
The artist responsible for their creation had taken some liberties, capturing their essence before life and war had hardened them. They looked like he
roes who would be easy to follow. Stern but caring.
The only discrepancy was the empty alcove to their left. It was set back from the rest and not easily visible unless you knew it was there. It represented the fifth and final Savior, someone lost to history who most considered a myth.
Only the most devout and well informed of the guardians knew the truth. That the fifth was a real person and the leader of all the rest. The one who’d led the charge against the Creators.
It should have been a sad comment on Tate’s life that she’d been so thoroughly forgotten after her disappearance. Tate didn’t look at it that way. She didn’t do the things she had to be remembered. In many ways, it was better her actions fall into obscurity. Some things should be forgotten. Maybe if Jax and all the rest had faded along with her, Aurelia wouldn’t now be facing the crisis of Creators being resurrected.
What are you thinking?
“History repeating itself.”
She didn’t want to lose everything again.
Tate was reluctant to voice the doubts in her heart—the ones that whispered taunts that maybe she shouldn’t have ever woken up. That she was the cause of all this. It would be too easy to wallow in guilt and recrimination. To use blame to torture herself for all the wrongs committed.
But that would be arrogance.
Life happened. It wasn’t always tidy or clean. Sometimes it was messy and people died. Mistakes were inevitable. The more important thing was what you did after you made them. When life ground you beneath its heel telling you to bend or break, that resistance was futile. That was when you truly found out who you were.
You feel sadness for the mad one’s death.
Tate allowed herself a faint smile. “That’s part of it.”
But not all?
“No. Not all.”
Tate stared up at the statues. Her friends.
She was still in a funny mood after what had happened in the tunnels beneath Aurelia. Christopher’s death had brought back memories she thought she’d forgotten. Of sacrifices made and things lost.
“What do you remember of the Ijiri?” Tate asked, not taking her attention from the faces of the Saviors.
Her memories around them were still murky. It was odd to have an enemy you knew almost nothing about. To have so many people reference them as the root of all evil but have no firsthand accounts to assure you they were right.
