Chasing the Night (The Krypt Series Book 1)

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Chasing the Night (The Krypt Series Book 1) Page 4

by Tyranni Thomas


  The tongue lashing that ensued would have shamed a sailor, but Reverie never lost her bubbly tone and bright smile.

  It won out. Moments later a tub was produced along with a basket of soaps and oils.

  “That’s more like it!” she chirped with a triumphant smile. “Now, you just get yourself in there. I’m going to Momma’s room to fetch you a shift.”

  “What? No!” I stammered, “I can’t wear her things … I…”

  She giggled like I was being silly again, and gave my shoulder a pat. “Oh, Chali. You’re home now. You’re family, and she would be offended to hear that you even hesitated over such a small thing.”

  She closed the door, giving me my first moment alone since the day had begun. It took a while, for the nerves to go away. Once my hands had stopped trembling and I had convinced myself I wasn’t entering my own grave, I started to undress and threw a leg over the side of the high-backed stone tub. I wasn’t even aware such a thing existed; I’d only seen the wooden variety a time or two, and that was only in passing. We used the river to bathe or whatever watering hole wasn’t too contaminated by upstream bodies.

  The door creaked, and I shot down into the water, trying my best to conceal my nakedness. Thankfully, it was only Reverie, returned with the bath goods.

  “You have skin just like her,” Reverie softly admired. She stared at my shoulder before cupping some water in her hand and trickling it down my back. “Ya’ll have the same sun-favored genes. I’m jealous! Atticus never lets me out of the house on warm days”

  Her face reflected the words she spoke, all the way down to the brief pout that threatened her lower lip.

  “Why?” I asked, amazed by my own curiosity once more.

  “Because it will cause me to catch color. He says when the color fades, the skin is left rougher and never really catches the fair nature it was intended.”

  I could tell by the big words and serious tone she injected that the words were not her own. I was willing to bet she really didn’t comprehend half of what she was reciting.

  “It’s true,” I said, “The sun ages skin. Sometimes it causes hideous spots on the face of old peasant women. They toil under the sun year-round and pay for it in their retirement.”

  I hadn’t lied, every word was true. When the moles grew large, scabbed over, and began to drain there really wasn’t much that could be done. Even when removed, they often returned and spread at a faster rate. Thus, it was ill advised amongst the healers to attempt the surgery.

  She stared at me in horror and glanced to the window, which of course, caused me to also look. The curtains were still wide as you please, but even more, so were the ones across the patio.

  Without a word, Reverie hurried over and jerked the curtains closed.

  We finished up, and I soon found myself bathed and dry, admiring the soft white shift she had chosen for me. It had been pressed with the hot stones until every wrinkle had been seen to. It almost made me teary eyed, until a faint knock sounded at the door.

  With the curtain pulled, I had no idea what to expect, so I tucked my hands behind me in an effort to appear casual and tried to lean enough to see past her without approaching.

  “Hey, ya’ll, come on in!” she rambunctiously invited. “And you, dashing off without a hug.”

  When no one entered she reached around a Spice Lander woman with dreadlocks and hugged Ender to her. He was hauled in and she abruptly turned back to the new face. “Well don’t just stand there, Aella! C’mon in and meet Chali...iss, Chalice.”

  She flashed an apologetic smile and blushed a bit at her own error, but Aella dismissed her antics. She was young, blessed with high cheekbones and a long face that made her well-bred, by the Mountain standards. Her cute button nose contrasted the cut-to-the-chase attitude and distinct delivery of her words.

  “I haven’t the time nor patience for your tea parties, Reverie.” Aella’s eyes cut like a knife from one face to the other until they settled on me. “Chalice of Rochambeau, tomorrow you shall become of the Krypt. I will fetch you at daybreak, and you will meet your new House Head.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. It didn’t matter, though. She turned and scanned Reverie from head to toe and back again before grimacing visibly. “See that she is ready, for fuck’s sake.”

  The door clicked shut, leaving me to blink and wonder what I had done to offend the woman.

  “I feel like I’ve been invited to my own execution,” I whispered, unable to raise my voice.

  Ender laughed and hauled me against his other side. I gasped, unused to such familiarities, but oddly comforted by the gesture.

  “She has that effect every time she opens her mouth.” He grinned before stopping in front of the sofa and giving the table a nudge. It was left further away than I had bumped it, but straight enough that someone might think it belonged there.

  We sank onto the sofa and I drew my legs, instinctively curling my feet and limb towards myself and the soft cloud of furniture beneath me. I still couldn’t believe it was mine to sleep on regularly. I sighed and realized they were both staring at me with smiles that matched my own.

  “I told you, you belonged here.” Ender winked.

  I still couldn’t get over him. He was a doctor, but he looked like a carefree spirited young man. A capable but young warrior. A gentle soul with seductive green eyes.

  “This is home now, girl.” Reverie sighed.

  “Everyone keeps calling me a girl. I’m a woman. I become majority with winter’s first kiss,” I babbled. The words failed me when I caught Ender’s eyes dropping to my mouth when I named the date.

  “Appropriate timing,” he cooed.

  I grew so warm in the cheeks and neck that I was left with my head down to hide it.

  “That’s right! The season celebrations will be incomparable if Isabella knows it’s your time,” Reverie excitedly anticipated. Ender laughed at her innocent train of thought and gazed toward the fire again.

  “Isabella is beautiful and very gracious. I hope I can repay her somehow.” I stopped mid-sentence, absorbing what she had said about the city’s festival. Had she meant that I would somehow be the center point of such an event? “I’m only an adopted—”

  “We all are,” Ender admitted over a throaty laugh. “Did you really think… “He held his side and studied me skeptically.

  “You thought Messiah and I came from the same Momma and Pappy?” Reverie asked as if it were the cutest thing in the world.

  Ender shivered, repulsed by her choice of paternal labels. “We really have to work on your peasant speak.”

  “Peasant speak!” Her eyes nearly jumped from their sockets. “You crawled your hiney straight out of them Forest Wild Swamps. Don’t you dare talk down my way of speaking!” She looked like a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed squirrel having a temper tantrum.

  “I was born in the swamps. It’s true, but at least I wasn’t purchased from the Iron Inlet,” he flung back.

  I sucked in air so fast I choked and tried to buffer things. “I’m just ecstatic to have been invited.”

  “Mind, Lady Chalice… just because one is invited, they shouldn’t assume it means they will stay,” a voice called from the doorway. It was Ender’s twin, the man from Blazian’s winery that had called Reverie a lush.

  My heart momentarily leapt from my chest and goosebumps covered my arms.

  “Honestly, Demetri. Do you ever spread anything besides doom and apprehension?” Reverie narrowed her eyes and gathered the guys up. “Get some rest, girl. Aella will be here in a few hours to collect you.”

  ***

  True to her word, the door to my chamber opened just as the dawn was breaking. Aella said nothing, merely stared across the room at me until I started moving. She shook her head and scoffed before shutting the door.

  Being under her gaze gnawed at me. I had only learned her name last night. What could I possibly had done to have offended her?

  There wasn’t time to stew on it, I ha
d to get dressed. An act that only dampened my mood further. I still hadn’t purchased any material, and there was no way I could walk alongside those type of people in the frilly dress I had. Even my leather one was shabby by their standards. I wrangled my way through the nerves and quickly wiggled my way into a dress I found in the wardrobe nearby.

  I started to sneak about, hesitantly opening the door against a squeak so I wouldn’t wake anyone. It proved to be for nothing. Out in the hall, the sound of servants and muffled speech assured me that at least half the Villa was alive and moving.

  “Be quick about it,” Aella mumbled. The woman tossed her head every time she addressed me, so I made a point not to talk.

  The morning air was crisp and cool. It left a thick layer of fog through the lower residential area that swallowed Aella if I didn’t keep a brisk pace. On either side, we could hear the people trying to open their shops. The banging of windows and whistled tunes seemed eerie in the white-out conditions.

  I was certain we were almost to the bridge, when suddenly she whirled around to face me. I nearly collided with her. A quick backstep left me dancing on the top of someone’s shoes. I flailed trying to balance myself, and a heavy hand claimed my arm.

  “Have a care, girl,” a deep smooth tone instructed. The fog broke, revealing the tall man with long, twisted dark hair behind me. His somber hazel eyes seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. A breath later I recalled him. He was the man I had bumped into on the dock, before things had gotten messy.

  “Chalice of Rochambeau, meet Atticus Krypt, head of House Krypt and father to us all,” Messiah formally introduced.

  Atticus emerged from behind Aella. Tall and slender, his face carried the evidence of several decades’ worth of stress. Despite his rich immaculate clothing, the deep stress lines around his eyes and haggard cheeks made him appear dangerous and dismal.

  I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that this was Isabella’s husband. The kind beautiful woman I had admired was married to this troll? I blinked repetitively and tried to take it all in.

  The sound of metal being slid from its sheath caused my shoulders to scrunch toward my neck. My body recognized the sound, but without the notice of the war horn, I hadn’t immediately placed it.

  Something rough and heavy was being shoved against my arm. The insistent manner had me grabbing the shield before I could really identify the circular shape. A shield?

  “Best get on with it,” Demetri called from the abyss. I whipped toward the sound and was gifted a sword. Confusion sprawled over my features and I glanced back toward Messiah.

  “On your feet. Stay. On. Your. Feet,” he advised in a humored tone before throwing one of his dreadlocks over his shoulder.

  “Chalice,” Ender boomed behind me.

  A glare caught the corner of my eye. I twisted around and instinctively held the shield up to cower behind it. A sword landed with a thunk that almost made me drop the damn shield.

  “You don’t seem like a Krypt to me,” Atticus drawled between fits of laughter. Beside him, Aella’s exhaustive scoffs were becoming more dramatic.

  Everything in me turned to ice. Were they going to fight me? Was this a set up?

  What the fuck was wrong with these people?

  I danced in a circle while cold doses of electricity sparked up my spine. Luck alone absorbed the blows. One by one, they were caught against the thick wooden shield.

  A boot shot out and connected with my thigh. Pain rippled through me, and I was forced to limp for a few moments. Each round stirred more insults from Atticus, low and almost inaudible. It was the disgusted edge to his tone that caused my explosion.

  Another sword landed forcefully against my shield, but rather than run, I lunged forward. Our bodies collided, and Ender went stumbling in the direction he had come.

  “Chaaaaalice,” Messiah sang. I turned toward the sound and felt a gush of wind. I nearly threw myself after Ender, but even that wasn’t enough. The staff clipped me across the shoulder. It was a heavy blow that left me stumbling around and hovering behind the shield once again.

  It is a prank. It will stop soon, and we’ll all laugh, I kept telling myself, but Demetri and Ender were now both on me. I swished my sword wildly and caught Demetri in the thigh. He cried out from the shadows, distracting me long enough that his twin grazed my upper arm with his sword.

  “Stop,” I cried out.

  The panic was coming in waves that I couldn’t handle. I wasn’t sure who would join in next, nor where the attack would come from. Atticus’ dark emotionless eyes followed me in the dance of self-preservation, but he made no efforts to call his sons off me.

  “Ender, stop!” I repeated, growing louder. I hated the quiver in my voice, but what I hated even more was the pity that flashed in Messiah’s eyes.

  I didn’t want his pity, I didn’t want anything but an opportunity. A chance at life and stability within the safety of a city. To have a community and belong. So how the fuck did I end up in this mess? It all boiled over. I struck for Ender like a madwoman, slashing and lunging blindly. Our swords kissed loudly before his blade scraped down the length of mine and tried to disarm me.

  I jabbed a little late and caught him in the side.

  “Enough!” Atticus barked. He sounded disgusted and his gaze lingered on Ender as if he were a disgrace. Without another word, Atticus stormed over, grabbed my upper arms and hurled me into the nothingness. I sucked in air so deep and hard it burned. My legs cycled in the wind and I screamed violently, certain I had been tossed over the bridge.

  The muddy bank caught me with enough force to jar the breath from me all over again. I curled into a ball, immersed in pain and uncaring who heard the strangled manic gasps that were coming from me.

  I could hear voices in the distance, some lower with an edge of concern, but none of them ventured out to check on me.

  “She lives,” Messiah playfully announced. His tone never wavered from that low, hazy way that people spoke when they were on the Root. Only I didn’t think he was; his eyes held no such cloudiness.

  For a moment I froze, unsure if he meant to call them back to finish me off or what. We stared across at each other for several moments, before his mouth twitched to a smile and he held out his hand to assist me.

  I hesitantly took it while staring up the hill. Ender lingered with Reverie, but the others had left.

  “It is a test. Do not let him win,” Messiah gently began. “Atticus is a bastard. He just wants to see if you’re capable of finding your feet after a fall. You have to be able to roll with the punches in this family. It is a necessity. If you couldn’t… you would not have been safe amongst us. Carrying the name is an honor, but it’s also a risk.”

  I smoothed my half-saturated dress, and he helped me up the slippery bank.

  “Wow, Chali! You were amazing up there,” Reverie congratulated.

  I wasn’t sure what to say to her, and I really didn’t trust myself to speak without cursing her and every last one of the Krypt. My gown was ruined, and I had likely failed whatever fucked up test that old goat had thrust me into.

  “You should concern yourself with the evening to come. Why aren’t you in the bath and being pampered?” Messiah lectured Reverie. It only served to cement the feeling of being an outsider. “And you… our newest sister. You should be getting ready as well.”

  “Ready for what?” I hesitantly asked, but the way Reverie had soured so suddenly left me wondering if I even wanted to know.

  “My wedding,” Reverie whispered almost inaudibly.

  Chapter Seven

  How Things Are Done

  Chalice

  Reverie led the way back to the Villa with a hurried pace. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was crying. It seemed every time I grew close, she walked faster. Her back was stiff, and the bubbly demeanor gone. By the time we made it to her chambers, her sniffles confirmed my suspicions.

  I closed the door behind us, sealing it with my weight, and
quickly reached for her wrist. She jerked it free and stared at me wide eyed. The normally innocent gaze was smothered in unspent tears. They ran freely as she wrapped her arms around me and sobbed against my shoulder.

  Something about those deep, desolate sobs made everything in me cringe. Her weight collapsed against me as she lost herself in a violent emotional storm. It was worse than the twisters that often struck the Valley of the Afflicted.

  “This can’t be happening,” she began to chant once she had spent herself.

  I ran my hand through her hair and tried to help her stand on her own again.” You should be happy. It is your wedding day.”

  I wanted to say more, but the words welled within me when she snapped her glossy gaze toward me again. I felt like shrinking, but I held firm and tried to be supportive.

  “What is it? Reverie, tell me…” I was starting to grow panicked myself.

  What the fuck had I gotten into? Fighting men off in the middle of the street, only to learn it was a game. Seeing the happiest person that I had ever met reduced to a blubbering mess… over what should have been a lovely affair. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, but I held my ground despite everything in me screaming for me to run as far and as fast as I could. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go. Every day the temperature dropped further.

  Reverie sucked in air, nearly on the verge of hyperventilating and way beyond hysterical. She’s going to pass out, I thought to myself, only to have the war horn rip me from my thoughts. It was a long low blast that left me wondering if the world itself was coming to an end out there.

  “What...what do we do?” I asked whipping around to face her. The tears had dried and she was smiling like someone had solved all her problems.

  “Pray he dies in the battle.” She laughed on a sigh and moved toward the window, staggering like she had just left the tavern. Her palm kissed the cold brick wall and she stretched herself to lean out the window.

  “Reverie!” I hissed, tugging her back inside. “You’ll catch an arrow.”

 

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