by Ashley Nixon
Gathering her dress, she moved down the hallway. She hated how the satin gown rustled. Ahead of her, she heard a door open and close. She paused for a moment to see if it was someone exiting a room, but no one made their way toward her, so she moved forward.
Sconces lined the corridor, casting dim light on the wood walls and carpeted floor. She stopped at a door with a piece of red ribbon tied around the handle. Her fingers brushed the fabric. She felt for her dagger at her waist. It was gone. Had the servant who delivered the ribbon taken her blade? Perhaps this wasn’t a message from her father. Her heart hammered in her chest. As she thought to turn away, voices came from the other end of the hallway.
She turned the handle and pushed the door open, stepping into the dark room. Her breathing seemed too loud in her ears. Once the door was shut behind her, heavy arms encircled her. They were too large to be her father’s. Panic flooded her body.
“Gypsy-witch!” A voice she didn’t recognize seethed in her ear.
She reared back and her head connected with his nose. The man released her and she turned to face him. He growled, cupping his nose, and then raced toward her. She stumbled backward and fell, holding up her hands to protect herself from the attack, but as the man came forward, warmth surged through her body, and she felt heat in her hands. Colors of green and blue pulsed through her fingers and outward, hitting her attacker in the chest. He fell instantly, collapsing to the floor in a heap.
It was over as fast as it had begun, and Larkin was left feeling dizzy and weak. For a moment she was rooted to the spot, staring at her hands as if they weren’t her own. Slowly she made her way to the man on the floor. She kept her distance, staring at a face she didn’t recognize. He’d called her gypsy-witch, a term used to describe women who used magic. Anxiety filled her chest.
Voices sounded outside the door, and she heard the handle turn. She hurried to hide behind a chair in the dark room.
As the door swung open, Larkin peered out from her hiding place. She saw two figures haloed by the hall light. One was dressed in white, and the other bent down beside the body on the floor. He seemed to be checking for a pulse.
“Is he still breathing?” the man in white asked.
Larkin held her breath in the cold silence, waiting for the reply.
“Yes.”
She covered her mouth and closed her eyes tightly. She felt relieved but also terribly afraid. That man would know something unnatural had happened to him. Worse, had he known who he was attacking when he grabbed her?
“What do we do?”
“We’ll take him to Dr. Newell’s,” said the man in white.
When the door snapped closed, Larkin took a few deep breaths and stood. She stifled a scream when she came face to face with a man in the dark. He held up a lantern, and reached forward quickly, pulling her mask from her face.
Instinctively, she reached for her blade but remembered she did not have it. The man drew a pistol.
“Lady Larkin,” he said. “Well, this is a delight.”
She glared at him. She’d heard this man’s name a lot in the last couple of days. This was Ben Willow. She’d had few encounters with him before her time at sea. He had not been born into her circle and had worked his way up, which would have been a quality Larkin admired in someone less bitter.
“I’m going to need you to answer some questions for me.”
“Why do I feel as if I have no choice in the matter?”
He chuckled. “So fierce. Is this what piracy has done to you?”
Larkin did not respond. Her face was hot and she had yet to fully grasp what had happened when the man had attacked her. She didn’t have time to deal with Ben.
“What did you do to him?”
She looked to where the man had landed and shuddered as she recalled what had happened, the feeling that had awoken within her.
“He attacked me,” she said.
Ben just stared at her, and she wasn’t sure what to think of his expression. It was blank. “It is no secret you have Elfin blood. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you could…draw upon Lyric.”
Larkin was startled mostly by the simple fact that Ben knew anything about magic. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, but she knew her words were too quick. “I might be half-Elf, but that doesn’t mean I can draw upon magic.”
“Let’s say you did,” he said with a shake of his shoulders. “And I could protect you. Would you let me?”
“I don’t need protecting!” She spat the words.
Ben held up his hands, as if to apologize. “Of course,” he said. “But the public doesn’t take well to your kind. You don’t realize the danger you would be in. Not to mention…how safe can you really be with Barren Reed? Will he even want you when he discovers your secret?”
Her kind. She detested his words.
“You have no proof.” She took a deep breath. “You must excuse me.”
She tried to move around Ben, but he moved in front of her. Of course it couldn’t be easy.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said.
“I don’t want to hear your proposition,” she said through her teeth.
He smiled. “You have no choice. You take it or I expose you. Truly I hate for it to come to this, but you leave me no choice.”
“I cannot help you with Cove Rowell,” she said. “If that’s what you want.”
“I have Cove Rowell right where I want him,” said Ben. “No, it is not Cove I need. It is not even a person. It is a thing. Bring me Barren Reed’s compass.”
“What?”
“You heard me, the compass. Bring it to me and I’ll keep your secret.”
How did he know about the compass? Larkin wasn’t sure of Ben Willow’s background, but surely a mortal would know nothing about that compass, much less find it useful.
“Why would you want it? It doesn’t even work.”
“Then he should have no trouble letting it go,” Ben said.
“It belonged to his parents. It’s all he has left of them. He will notice if it is missing.”
“I suppose that’s something you’ll have to deal with,” he said.
She narrowed her gaze. “You must be quite happy with yourself. You’ve risen from the low ranks to which you were born. Tell me, has it all been through manipulation and blackmail?”
He laughed, seeming truly amused. “You know, you manage to make me sound like the scoundrel but all I have ever fought were pirates. You believed as I did at one time.”
“That was before I opened my eyes.”
“Before you met Barren,” he qualified, taking in a breath and stepping forward. “You know what you are? To everyone? A silly girl who gave up her life for a man. That’s all you’ll ever be.” He straightened, still smiling. “Bring me the compass, Larkin. Tomorrow night at Onyx Hall. If you do not show, I’ll drag you and Barren from this house to the noose. Follow the red ribbon.”
He took a step back and turned, heading for the door, but before he left, he paused. “Ask Barren about Éire. Just ask. Maybe then you’ll understand the kind of man you gave your life up for.”
Then he left. She stood there for a moment collecting her thoughts before shakily putting on her mask and leaving. She ran upstairs, all four flights, not stopping once until she was safely inside her own room. She shut the door behind her, leaning against it and sliding to the floor. She looked at her hands, touching the tips of her fingers together. It was like everything within her was alive, wired. And she knew it was wrong. Because what had come from her hands, these hands—what had hurt a man tonight—was magic.
Cove stepped out onto the balcony. The night was cool, and he could smell salt in the air. He felt calm here. Such a stark contrast to what lay behind him. If he wasn’t obligated to stay at the ball, he would escape to the shore. Tonight had been trying. Everyone had an opinion about the pirates of Silver Crest, about Barren and Larkin, about him, about the pirates who had hanged in Maris. He’d taken it all in, and now
he needed a break.
He breathed in the cool air, and exhaled too fast when he heard the door open and shut softly behind him. He didn’t turn to see who it was. He didn’t need to. He recognized the air around her. It was warm and smelled sweet.
“I knew I would find you here,” the smile in her voice made him shiver. Though outwardly he was doing his best to be happy for her, he didn’t understand how she thought everything was still okay. He took in a breath and turned to look at her.
“Dearest Sara, I am sorry. Did you need me?”
She was still smiling, but her eyes dimmed as she studied his face, and confusion flitted in her eyes.
“I was worried about you,” she said quietly. “I haven’t seen much of you all night. You promised me a dance.”
“I have been busy. It is not easy to host a ball.”
“I imagine not, well…now that you’re all by yourself.”
Cove raised a brow and nodded but quickly took his gaze off her.
“You are gone a lot now,” she continued, sensing his unease. “Don’t you miss home?”
“What is there to miss?” he asked. “Unfavorable memories rest here, Sara.”
“You don’t have to stay here. There are other places in Arcarum.”
The Ambassador smiled wistfully. He wished in some way that he possessed her almost child-like understanding of everything. It was a reflection of her sheltered upbringing, her aversion to the outside world. She knew nothing of Cove’s troubles or the horror he had seen and he wouldn’t want her to know. That’s why things were better this way.
“I always come back when I leave.”
“Yes, but…there are times when I fear you won’t.”
He chuckled hearing that. “What danger am I in at sea, Sara?”
“Well, there are pirates and that dreaded Barren Reed.”
Cove’s brows came together but all he did was shake his head. “I do not fear pirates, Sara.”
“I don’t understand you. You should hate them for what they did.”
And this is where Cove felt worse. She was referring to his father’s death and the fact that it was believed he had died at the hands of pirates. That was true, but his death had come at the hands of Cove’s own crew. How could Sara ever understand that he was the one responsible for his father’s death? She would never forgive him. He could hardly forgive himself.
“Cove,” she said softly. He caught the tremor in her voice and looked at her. “Why do you look at me with such wistfulness?”
He gazed at her for a moment longer and then looked at his feet. “Allow me to leave you, dearest Sara, for I do not wish to look upon you in such a way.”
He stepped forward and took her hand, placing his lips against her soft skin.
“I feel safe with you,” she said as he was about to pull away. “I feel safer when you are here.”
He stared at her. Was this part of what she’d wanted to tell him earlier in the day?
“Sara, are you in trouble?” he asked.
Her smile was shaky but her eyes brimmed with tears. “No,” she shook her head.
He took a step toward her, closing the space between them. He still held her hand. “Because if you are in trouble, you know I will protect you.”
She dropped her gaze and gave a small laugh. “You might,” she whispered and looked up at Cove. “If you were here.”
She turned from him and left the balcony. For a moment he hesitated to follow, but his questions had still gone unanswered. She’d come to him twice today, in secrecy, on the verge of tears. What secret was she keeping? He left the balcony in search of her.
***
As Cove stepped inside, he peered over the balcony. Below, a dance continued. The king was indulging one of the many women waiting for a turn about the room and they spun in elegant circles. He looked around for Barren’s crew and found Barren tensely glaring at the crowd below. Cove guessed he couldn’t find Larkin, because the ambassador couldn’t find her either.
Then his eyes focused on Leaf, whose gaze was troubled. It wasn’t until the Elf started to move in the direction he was looking that Cove got nervous. He followed the Elf’s gaze and then found what had caught his attention, an inconspicuous figure standing across from him on the other side of the balcony, annexed in the shadows near the curtains. He was dressed in a long coat with his face covered with a plain black mask, head hooded. In his hand he held a silver flintlock pistol. He had not realized anyone had noticed him yet.
Cove had no time to think. His only objective was to distract the assassin. He drew a dagger from his boot, aimed for the chandelier, and threw the knife. The impact caused the crystals to shake and knock into each other; pieces broke away and began falling to the ground. It was just enough. Cove saw the figure hesitate as the king and the crowd moved out of the way of the falling glass. Cove made his move. Rushing down the stairs, he kept his gaze on the assassin. Knowing he had been caught, the assassin steadied the gun again.
Cove pushed through the crowd toward the king and plowed into him. The gun sounded, people screamed and chaos ensued. Some ran from the room while others collapsed to the ground. Cove and the king hit the floor with a hard thud.
Cove stood immediately and watched as the king’s guard hurried up the steps in search of the assassin.
“Back! Everyone back!”
Hollow’s voice cut deeply, and the crowd moved against the walls as far from the king and Cove as they could.
“You…you saved my life,” Tetherion managed to say as he got to his feet, shaken. He was more surprised than anything. Cove knew what he was thinking: you should have let me die. They were enemies, after all.
The doors that led into the garden flew open and Sara emerged from outside, her cheeks red from the chill of the night. She ran to the edge of the circle of people, staring at Cove in bewilderment.
“Cove, you’re bleeding,” she said.
Cove looked down at his side as crimson dropped upon the floor. Sara tried to go to him, but Ben’s icy hand slipped around her arm and pulled her back.
“He can take care of himself,” he said roughly.
Cove’s dark eyes showed no hint of his pain. He turned toward the exit. “Get them out of here,” he told Hollow and left without another word.
***
Barren noticed the crystals fall from the chandelier, and he was suddenly brought out of his angry search for Larkin. He watched Cove take off running down the stairs, and he knew the assassin had been spotted. He’d been too distracted to notice.
He leaned over the balcony to see where the assassin might be. He had gone for higher ground too.
Barren took off running, pushing past unassuming attendees. When the gunfire sounded, there were screams and everyone flattened, making it easier for him to wind through them. He came upon the part of the balcony that was left in shadow, only to catch a glimpse of the gunman as he fled down the hallway.
Barren followed close behind.
“Stop!” he yelled. “Stop!”
The assassin turned, brandishing the pistol and Barren halted in his steps. He fired, and Barren hit the floor, the bullet whizzing past him. The assassin turned and ran again. Barren pulled a dagger from his boot. Tossing the blade, it landed in the assassin’s calf, and he stumbled, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Barren pulled a thin piece of rope from his pocket and moved to tie the man’s wrists only to discover the hands belonged to a woman.
She twisted around onto her back and Barren’s heart went cold. “Well, we meet again, Barren Reed.”
It was the woman from earlier. The one who’d stolen his compass for leverage.
“But you…” his voice faltered. He gritted his teeth. He only had moments. He needed that compass, but he had run out of time.
“Hey!” someone yelled from behind Barren. Tetherion’s guards were coming for the assassin, and Barren knew he wouldn’t be able to linger here or he’d have to reveal his identity. Barren’s heart felt cold
and he backed away from the woman, hurrying down the hall as the assassin was taken into custody.
Something wasn’t adding up here. Hadn’t that woman just told him she worked for Tetherion? Or had she gotten close to the king only to kill him for the Commonwealth? But Barren’s most pressing question was what did she want with him?
***
Cove went to his study and locked the doors. Shoving off his jacket and vest, he unbuttoned his white shirt, craning his neck to get a good look at his side. By the firelight, he dug his fingers into the wound, his breath escaping through his teeth as he attempted to fish the bullet out. He felt a sharp pang as his fingers brushed the bullet and he cried out, grinding his teeth. He hated the feel of the torn skin and blood beneath his fingers.
A knock sounded at the door and Cove growled. He’d suspected he wouldn’t get any peace while all these guests were leaving.
Cove braced himself against the mantle, sweat beading on his forehead. “Who is it?” he called, his breath short.
“Perhaps a decision between life and death?”
Cove sighed. As he moved from the mantle, he regretted his decision to attempt to remove the bullet himself. Pain shuddered through him, worse than when the bullet actually made its impact. He opened the door and Leaf stepped through.
“I am fine, Leaf,” Cove shut and locked the door again.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
Cove removed his shirt completely and leaned against the arm of his chair as the Elf examined his wound. He was doing a good job of ignoring the pain until the Elf started touching it.
“What the hell are you doing? I was shot, don’t you think it hurts?”
“Touchy,” Leaf chided. “It might not hurt so badly if you had left it alone!”
Cove looked away, rolling his eyes.
“It’s going to have to come out,” said Leaf.
“I don’t suppose you have the tools with you?”
“Not in this room,” said Leaf. “You might want to get them yourself. At least if you’re saying goodbye, people will know you’re okay.”
