Myth's Legend: Norrix

by Ysobella Black

  “He should. Ember dragged him into the sun for hours.”

  Norrix jumped, having missed seeing Jael leaning against the wall by the door. Although he should have been expecting him — the Assassin had sent the summons to come here since electronics had a nasty habit of exploding when Stryx touched them. “Stryx! You stood in the sun?” That would have been something to Witness. Strygoi magic had never worked like that before. If the magic was changing so drastically, maybe that’s why he couldn’t find any mention of it.

  “I don’t think there was much standing,” Jael said.

  On second thought, probably better he hadn’t seen that. Some things couldn’t be unseen. No one knew that better than the Witness.

  But was the Assassin trying to be funny? Alaric finally got a high-five, and no one died. Vampires in the sun. Jael making jokes. What was going on in the world? “What was it like?”

  Stryx smirked as he shrugged the button-down shirt over his arms. “You’re about to find out for yourself what it’s like.”

  “Wait. Hold on a second.” Norrix held up his hands and pushed his chair back. “I haven’t stood in the sun for eight thousand years. Last time I saw a sunrise or sunset, Albion wasn’t an island.”

  “Well, get ready to see something new, Witness.”

  Witness.

  Hearing that name from Stryx gave Norrix a chill deep in his bones. It sounded less like a title and more like a portent.

  Ember entered the office wearing a fancy blue and black dress, red hair twisted into an untidy knot. She held her phone held to her ear, the microphone covered with a finger, and tilted her head at Stryx.

  Eyes only for his Dragă, Stryx dismissed the rest of the world as he crossed the room and let her lead him away.

  So what was the point of summoning him here? Vampires in the sun. Jael being funny. Stryx distracted. Strygoi and their absurdity were definitely back. Better Stryx and Idris than Norrix. His mind was already scrambled enough without any extra lunacy added in.

  Jael watched Stryx and Ember leave, his expression not as indifferent as usual. There was something like empathy on that normally blank face. “There’s an auction in Ashana on the twelfth, during the day.”

  Norrix turned his chair around and sat facing Jael. The Assassin wasn’t going to kill him, but he always carried two swords, and anyone with a sense of self-preservation knew to keep those in sight. While he trusted Jael implicitly, his trust did not extend to the blades, which seemed to have a mind of their own. “I’m going to guess since Stryx wants to attend rather than sending Ciaran. You’re going to have your hands full trying to keep track of him now. Not only can Ember disappear with him whenever she wants, he can stand in sunlight.”

  Jael snorted and let his head thump against the wall as he closed his eyes. “As if I need more witches doing whatever they want.”

  Norrix arched an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair. It wasn’t like the stoic Assassin to seem out of sorts. “More witches?” Had Jael found his Dragă? Every vampire of the Ildum had one somewhere — a witch who could make his heart beat. And some Dragăs could turn strygoi. If Jael had found his, maybe she could explain how strygoi magic was possible when Soră had never left the compound. “Something you want to share with the class?”

  Jael opened his eyes, bent one knee to prop a foot against the wall behind him, and avoided Norrix's question. “Not witches being auctioned this time, but it seems we’re going to be getting involved with chaos again. It might be a good idea to make some new contacts. See who’s buying what. I’ve always been on the lookout for mages, but they’ve been underground for a while. Maybe we can find them in a less direct way.”

  “I want you to go with us, Norrix.” Stryx came back in, towing a flushed Ember behind him. He took the seat behind his desk and pulled her into his lap. She didn’t threaten or attempt to murder him. All walls remained intact. Progress. “You can fly the plane and you’ve been to Ashana before.”

  “Stryx’s ability to go in the sun is permanent, but I think I can temporarily shield a second vampire if he stays close.” Ember’s red hair turned black, her dress disappearing as she glowed silver. “Stryx told me you know more about relics and magical stuff than anyone else here. Will you come with us in case you can find something that will help Musette?”

  Nothing he knew about or been able to find in his books had been of any use to wake Ember’s twin after she'd been rescued from a mage but left in some sort of coma. It was easy to see how worried Ember, and therefore Stryx, was.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Norrix swallowed. “You’re positive you can protect more than one of us at a time?” Often he’d wondered what the last thing he Witnessed would be, but he did not want to Witness his fiery death in the sun.

  “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m pretty sure I can.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Pretty sure as in ‘pretty sure the sun will rise tomorrow’ or pretty sure as in ‘pretty sure Stryx’s phone will last more than three days’?”

  Jael chuckled, and Ember laughed. She rose to her feet, ignoring the shirt Stryx stripped off and tried to hand her.

  Norrix pushed himself deeper into his chair. Stryx was bonded with Ember. Norrix wasn’t sure he had that kind of faith in her. “Maybe test it on Jael? He’s the bodyguard, after all. He’s the one who needs to be close.”

  “No, thanks. I’m an assassin. I can’t fly the plane. And shadows hold more appeal for me.” Jael had an expression on his face Norrix couldn’t identify. He was smiling and looked... Distracted? Like he was daydreaming. When was the last time Jael had smiled? Before Norrix could give much thought to it, Ember touched his arm.

  “Come on.” She extended a hand. “I promise it will be okay. People at the auction are going to know something’s up if you look terrified. We’ll just practice standing in the sun for a short time. A friend of mine is coming over. When she arrives, you can hide indoors again.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  MYTH

  MYTH WALKED THROUGH the white marble palace, taking as many detours as she dared, hoping to force an accidental chance sighting of Fable. The Scorpion Mage kept her from their daughter, and while the enforced separation hurt her heart and soul, it would be so much worse if they couldn't communicate telepathically. Myth guarded the secret of that ability — her most valuable treasure — zealously, careful never to use it when Iqiohr was near.

  The link also allowed her to locate Fable. Iqiohr and his men moved her daughter around like a game piece, thinking that provided another layer of control. The guards laughed behind Myth’s back as she roamed through the palace on her seemingly pointless wanderings, taking wrong turns and lingering in random places for no reason. She let them.

  Sometimes all she could do was pause outside the latest door they’d hidden Fable behind, but Myth could always find her.

  She slowed on the second floor.

  Hello, tlazotli amoxtli.

  Nantli, I am not a little book. Fable’s aggrieved thought came back.

  What else would eat so many stories?

  A big book!

  Myth ducked her head and allowed herself a tiny smile. Did you like the story this morning?

  The story made me happy. Will you show me another one?

  Of course. I know one about a curious monkey.

  Okay. I like monkeys. Can you come see me?

  Myth clenched her fists to keep her fingers off the handle of the door that led to her daughter. I want to see you more than anything, but I have to go somewhere today.

  Oh. Can I go with you?

  The wistful tone in her daughter’s voice made Myth catch her breath. In spite of everything, Fable still had hope, curiosity, and innocence.

  Over the years, Myth had imagined all manner of plans to escape, and never had she wanted to leave Aztlan more. She had to figure out something before this place crushed the spirit and life out of her little girl.

  But this was Aztlan. If she managed to g
et away from Iqiohr, find Fable, then slip past all his guards and the magic that infused the island, there was still a lake full of monsters happy to drown and crush the bones of anyone who ventured into those waters. The ahuizotls had never been aggressive toward her, but she never stepped out of line.

  And where could she go? She’d never been across the lake before. What was out there? Something better?

  One day, I’ll take you with me. I promise. I have to go by myself this time to do something for Iqiohr.

  I’ll be good.

  You are always good.

  “The time for being lost is over for today,” one guard said from behind her. “Back to your room. You leave in thirty minutes.”

  I’ll come see you as soon as I can.

  She shared the monkey story as well as several others with Fable. Enough to keep her daughter’s active mind occupied for two days.

  If only it were so easy to divert her own worries.

  THE GUARDS STATIONED outside Iqiohr’s private quarters pulled the doors open as she approached. More of the hated white filled the ornate receiving area, set up as a smaller version of the throne room. There wasn’t a dais, and the chair wasn’t as large, but the chamber held an ostentatious air just the same. A desk with a single chair offered the only other place to sit. Everyone else stood in attendance. Carvings and depictions of scorpions decorated the floor, ceiling, and walls.

  In the adjoining bedroom, white curtains hung by tall windows. The bed was made up with crisp white sheets. Myth crossed to her prison within a prison. Iqiohr kept her isolated, even here. A place he put her away and locked her up like a toy in a chest when he didn’t want to play with his doll anymore.

  Entering Iqiohr’s closet, she pushed open the door at the back that led into her windowless chamber, large enough to contain her small bed. It was the only thing in the room. She had no possessions of her own.

  The woman who tended Myth’s hair, skin, makeup, and clothing awaited. A constant presence in Myth’s life for years, but a silent one. Mute by choice or force, there was no way to know. She’d never shared her name or answered any of Myth’s questions, so she’d stopped asking. She appeared every morning with the clothing Myth was to wear, instructions for how to make her look, and a time limit in which to accomplish everything.

  Myth’s opinion, on anything, was never required. When the woman finished her work, she turned Myth over to the guards, who either followed her around, or took her where Iqiohr wanted her.

  Today, the woman efficiently removed the short wrap she’d dressed Myth in a few hours ago, then wound a band around Myth’s breasts, flattening them painfully. The new dress, made of a thick wool, was nothing like the clothes Iqiohr typically dressed her in. High-collared, floor-length, and long-sleeved, it hung from her shoulders in unflattering, straight lines. It may as well have been a sack with holes for her head and arms. It would be perfect if it wasn’t the ever-present white.

  Armor. This dress would be like a suit of armor, as she learned about a world outside of Aztlan.

  Sandals on Myth’s feet, face devoid of all makeup, hair pulled straight back into a single braid down her back, and the woman pointed to a small suitcase, then the door.

  Myth took the hint, picked up the bag, and left the cell. Extra guards stood outside the doors and fell into step around her. Apparently, no more detours were going to be permitted.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NORRIX

  NORRIX GRIPPED EMBER’S hand one step out of the front door, torn between freezing in place and preparing to launch himself backward into the house. It was ridiculous to think if her magic failed, the sun wouldn’t find him if he held still, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. An eight-thousand year old habit was hard to break in a matter of seconds.

  But he didn’t burn. Feeling the sun on his face for the first time in eight thousand years was nothing short of life altering. He inhaled. Even familiar things smelled warmer during the day when the sun wasn’t trying to kill him.

  A sheen of silver settled over his vision, offering tantalizingly bright flashes of color to his normally black and white daytime vision.

  The grass seemed a brighter shade of green. The gardens and orchards Xenos cultivated shocked his eyes. Norrix had seen the night gardens many times. They were beautiful, but the monochromatic flowers in them, while magnificent, always seemed timid.

  The day gardens, however, burst with vibrant blooms reaching for the sun, daring gravity to hold them back or pots to contain them. The fragrant scents of apples, oranges, roses, clover, and hyacinth were more potent. Birds in the trees, typically asleep at night, sang and tweeted. He’d heard them before, but without the threat of imminent immolation, he could share in their simple joy, making the sounds sweeter.

  His skin warmed in the sun in spite of the chilly winter air.

  The ocean wavered in flashes of blue. He’d almost forgotten it could be a color other than black.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d been in daylight since he’d been turned, although it was the first time he wasn’t trying to get the fuck out of it before it killed him.

  While Ember’s magic amazed him, strygoi were... He didn’t like to use the word lunatics, but they were mercurial, and he didn’t want to startle her, or have her change her mind about the protection she offered.

  Stryx, on the other hand, seemed to have a death wish and had no problem irritating her. “Can’t you stop glowing?”

  “I’m trying!”

  Norrix stiffened, going still as a statue. What if the potency of Ember’s magic depended on her level of shiny?

  “How about mostly tamping it down?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Do you only want Norrix to be mostly protected from the sun?”

  A pit opened up in his stomach. If his heart beat, it’d be close to exploding from stress. Could a vampire have a heart attack? They were only a step from the door. It was right behind him. How much time did he have if Ember’s magic stopped?

  Stryx, oblivious to Norrix’s impending death, ironically not from the sun he was standing in, waved a shirt at Ember. He’d been waving the thing at her since the meeting in his office. It wasn’t red, Norrix could see that in the flashes of color vision he had now, but it still seemed an awful lot like taunting something Stryx shouldn’t be taunting. “Put this on.” He shook the shirt again. “Your friend will be here any moment.”

  “My friend has seen me naked more times than you.”

  Okay, that was worse than waving a red flag around.

  Stryx growled.

  Ember laughed.

  Norrix pondered death — faster to have Stryx rip his head off for interfering in their argument, or to let go of Ember’s hand and get it over with? When the mood struck him, Stryx could take a long time to tear off a head.

  To Norrix’s surprise, Stryx didn’t lay down the law and tell Ember how things were going to be. Instead, he stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. “Well, how do you ever expect me to catch up if you keep being naked around both of us?”

  A twinge of jealousy ran through Norrix, and he closed his eyes. He’d had relationships over the last eight thousand years, but they’d been fleeting. He’d never been human exactly, but even before he was vampire, he’d been the Witness — a wanderer with no home.

  An obligation that hadn’t stopped when Riordan turned him, that job required traveling to see events and history in the making. He sometimes wondered if he’d have met his Dragă if he’d stayed in one place, but he seemed incapable of not roaming, never sure if being Witness caused his restlessness, or if wandering had made him the ideal candidate to become the Witness.

  At the sound of a car engine, he opened his eyes to slits. A dark grey, or maybe black, convertible drove up and parked, the top down even in the winter temperature. Car doors slammed and three blonde women walked towards them.

  They exchanged words with Ember and Stryx, but Norrix didn’t hear them. His mind tried to slip.


  Three Fates.

  Three Morrigans.

  Three Norns.

  Three Furies.

  No. Those triplets didn’t look like these women. The trio didn’t mind the cold and there should be more of them... Six? Nine? No. Thirteen. Maidens of Pohjola. Here in Port Storm?

  The day kept getting better. Not only could Requiescere show up and sing them all into oblivion, now the daughters of Louhi were here, which meant maybe the Mistress of Pohjola, Goddess of Witchcraft and Death, might put in an appearance.

  Thinking about that, maybe Ashana was the safest place to be.

  The triumph over his memory allowed him to forget he stood in the sun for a moment, but Ember’s attention was now further divided. He tightened his fingers around hers and inched backwards, closing the gap to safety.

  She turned to him. “Norrix, that’s enough practicing for now. Let’s go inside.”

  Norrix bolted for the door. If his heart beat, it would have been pounding. He Witnessed events — he didn't want to be part of them.

  Back to the wall just inside the front door, he fended off Alaric’s poking fingers with a swipe. “Get lost, Alaric.”

  “I’m just checking to see if you’re well done.”

  “You’re going to be done for if you don’t fuck off.”

  Alaric lost interest in Norrix when the three blondes entered the house, going to his knees and babbling something about quadruplet Dragăs at them as Ember and Stryx led the women away.

  Norrix shook his head. How that boy managed to stay alive, he didn't know.

  Stryx returned from seeing Ember up the stairs to Selene’s tower, amusement evident as he stopped in front of Norrix. “Viktoria and her sisters might be able to do something to help Musette, but I want to go to Ashana either way to see what we can find out about the mages. Can you be ready to leave when they’re done with whatever they’re going to try?”