Raze the Night (Nightstar Book 2)

Ainreth was progressively getting angrier and angrier. It had been a few days over the time limit that people with Orinovan heritage had had to sign that document, and some had refused to, which meant that a few of them had already started to be harassed by guards, investigated for suspicious behavior.

At least it had one good consequence though—the anti-war protesters were as a group closer than ever. Some had left them to protect their families now that Varilik was taking steps like this, which Ainreth couldn’t blame them for. But the remaining members had stopped their squabbling at least.

Their main focus currently was protecting the innocent people targeted by this incredibly stupid new decree. They’d been hiding the ones most affected that they could help in their safehouses all over the city, but it was still very much a work in progress. And they didn’t have that many resources to feed people for long.

Ainreth wished he could offer his house for this, since it was fairly big and available, but it was too close to the palace, too in plain sight.

The only thing he could think of was bringing a few people with him and making them invisible. But doing that for multiple people for more than a few minutes was risky, to say the least. Ainreth could usually handle two people, but the more he had to cloak, the more likely it was he would lose concentration.

Ainreth sighed, running his finger over a ridge in the surface of the table he was sitting at. The anti-war leaders were discussing what to do next. He’d had no ideas and listening to their equal lack of ideas was even more demoralizing.

He really, really wanted to get drunk. But he resisted because he’d then be completely useless, instead of just mostly. Still, even though he wasn’t listening, he sometimes caught bits and pieces.

“Maybe we should just sign it,” he heard one of the people they were protecting say, his voice shaky.

Ainreth dragged his eyes over to him, sighing as he then scanned the whole place. Everyone in the large, spacious room was glum, their eyes turned to the floor, usually silent, lost in their thoughts.

It didn’t help that they barely had any lights on to avoid being detected. The place had practically no windows, but the wooden boards the walls were made of had gaps in them large enough to show light shining through them. This was after all supposed to be an abandoned storage house. But it just made the whole room so gloomy.

“If we sign it, then what?” another said, a woman with her hair hanging over her eyes. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. “We’ll still be treated as somehow worse than people born in Lys-Akkarian families. For no reason.”

“But at least we won’t be looked at as criminals by the Court.”

A third snorted, shaking her head. “And who is to say that nothing else will be signed to make our lives harder? As long as the Court agrees, there is little that will stop that from happening.”

Ainreth had no doubts that if Varilik could, he would have long since sent all the war protestors to jail and continued on his warpath. But he didn’t have that support. But some things clearly weren’t off the table for the Courtiers, like this document that was unlikely to fix the problem. And they must have known. But Ainreth had no doubts that the only one who had likely put up a fight was the Bulwark in this case. He should talk to her.

The only problem was that he was no longer welcome at the palace. Well, he hadn’t been welcome there since he’d told the Arbiter he wouldn’t work for them, he supposed, but now he couldn’t even get there while invisible.

Ain was sure that it was sundering Varilik’s doing. Everything was his fault, after all. Apparently, now no entrances were left open enough to slip through, and when they were open for people who had a reason to go inside, they were carefully closed right behind them.

Ainreth might have been invisible, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still need space to get into places like a regular person.

The only way he’d gotten inside that time he’d tried to talk to Fenn was by using his ability to make images out of light to pretend to be a servant he’d seen around.

He’d barely managed to give himself an image of the man’s face over his own. Thankfully the guards hadn’t questioned the fact that he hadn’t been wearing a servant’s outfit because there was no way Ainreth would have managed to keep up his disguise if it was to be that elaborate.

He was sure if he’d trained this ability more he would have managed better, but it was too late to do anything about that now.

Nodding to himself, he got up and went off to find Anyri to tell her his plan. She and Arem always got annoyed when he disappeared without notifying them.

He found her just outside the storage house upon walking outside, nodding at her. It was raining, a heavy downpour, which was just great. It perfectly fit Ainreth’s mood.

“Anyri,” he said.

“Going home?” she asked, sounding quite lethargic. Her face was neutral, but that was alarming in her case because she was usually all smiles.

“Not really,” Ainreth said, sighing. His shoulders felt so heavy these days. No wonder his younger self had chosen to be a shallow idiot who just spent his money and occasionally gave a speech.

Life was so much simpler when one wasn’t fighting for a cause. Though even if he hadn’t grown more responsible, he supposed he would have had to choose a side here. Varilik would have needed him if Fennrin hadn’t joined them.

But then there wouldn’t have been a war, would there? Not yet, anyway. Orinovo had attacked because they’d caught wind that Lys-Akkaria had a shadowforger.

It was very strange to think about these things.

“I can’t stay home,” Ainreth continued, sighing heavily. “Varilik already had guards try to investigate me for suspicious behavior. I’m fairly sure they’d already searched the place, probably.” Ain shook his head but snorted. “Joke’s on them. The only thing they will uncover is incredible literature. And my half-finished book. I hope no one steals that.”

Anyri shook her head, laughing despite their awful situation. “Yes, I’m sure the guards want to plagiarize your fiftieth romance novel.”

Ainreth pretended to be annoyed, scoffing. “It’s my best yet, actually.”

Anyri smiled at him, tired but at least looking a tiny bit lighter. “So where are you going?”

“I thought I could try to talk to the Bulwark,” Ainreth shrugged. “Maybe she knows something. I doubt she likes what’s happening.”

Anyri raised her eyebrow at him as she tilted her head, her ginger fringe falling over her right eye. “You want to talk to the Courtier in charge of the army about helping us, the people who oppose the war?”

Ainreth nodded, shrugging. He knew how this sounded. But between the Arbiter seeming very interested in the influx of money Orinovo could provide, the Patron, who’s literal job was to deal with finances and would probably also be inclined to get sea access at least, and Varilik being Varilik, the Bulwark seemed like the safest bet to ask for help.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Ainreth sighed, running his hand through his hair. Why was everything such a mess?

“I should trim your hair,” Anyri said instead of offering a solution of her own, making Ainreth start laughing.

“What?”

“It’s getting long,” Anyri pointed out, shrugging, though the corners of her mouth were twitching. Clearly she was barely resisting laughing too.

Ainreth pulled a strand of his hair to its full length, huffing a laugh. “Well, it’s true. You haven’t done your job in months.”

Anyri shook her head, laughing that time. “I’ve had other business to attend to, so to speak.”

“I’m not a good enough client for you?” Ainreth pretended to gasp in shock, laughing right after. And so did Anyri, giving his head a pat.

“You’re an idiot, Tyr-Naralyn.”

Ainreth grinned, knowing she meant that in a good way. “Aw.”

“Just make sure you don’t get arrested. We can’t do this without you with us,” she said, her voice growing more serious, her eyes sad.

Ainreth nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll be in and out before anyone can figure out anything. I have my ways.”

Anyri shook her head, snorting as she then nodded. “You always do, don’t you?” She smiled. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us so far. I’m sorry about what happened with your boyfriend.”

Ainreth winced, really not wanting to talk about it. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He pulled his jacket over his head to protect from the rain. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to go anywhere, but he was determined right now, and he couldn’t wait around anymore.

He would lose his mind otherwise.

Grimacing as water poured down on him, he ducked under roofs as much as he could, taking advantage of the shelter they offered. Thankfully for him, most of the lower parts of town had narrow streets with the roofs of buildings nearly meeting each other.

Things got worse once he was actually making his way up to the palace, with the streets being largely exposed and also on bridges that offered no protection, resulting in any part of him not covered up by his jacket getting soaked.

He used the limited light the raining provided to make himself invisible just before he got too close to the palace, stopping off at his house to get changed into less suspicious clothing.

After changing his clothes to look more like a servant, he then spent the next few minutes in front of the mirror, trying to get his face to look right. Holding the illusion was difficult, but creating it was even more so when it was something this complex. He wouldn’t get a mirror when he would be leaving the palace, he realized, so he stuffed a small hand mirror in his pocket.

Once he was satisfied he grabbed his stormfender, so he didn’t go out only to get soaked yet again. Though he hoped the intricate pattern of dried leaves forming the protective dome of it wouldn’t betray that he wasn’t actually a servant.

Stormfenders were sproutkeeper-made and usually not too expensive, but his was better quality. Still, he was sure it would be fine as he stepped outside, holding the handle of his stormfender high enough that it covered up a part of his head. The less was visible the better.

To his relief the moment he stepped to the palace entrance, the guards in front just nodded at him and let him pass, shutting the door right behind him.

He breathed out, dropping his disguise just as soon as he was out of sight of anyone, turning invisible instead and heading right for the Bulwark’s office.

He stood by the door for a bit, listening in if there was anyone inside, but he couldn’t hear anything. Ainreth knocked, staying invisible, and as soon as the Bulwark called him in he opened the door, making himself visible only once he saw she was alone inside and the door was closed behind him.

“Ainreth,” the Bulwark said, not looking surprised by his visit at all. In fact, she seemed as thought he’d showed up later than she’d been expecting.

“Lady Courtier,” Ainreth greeted her, sighing as he seated himself in the chair opposite her desk, putting his stormfender next to it. “Hi.”

The Bulwark sighed too. “How have you been doing?”

“Not too great, I will be honest with you,” he replied, shocked at how nice it felt to tell her that. It was kind of ridiculous because she was his former commander, not his friend or his mother, but he couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“Yes, I imagine not. I’ve been expecting you to come talk to me before Daryan put the palace under higher security to not allow you to come in.”

Ainreth snorted. “I have my ways how to get around his little precautions.”

The Bulwark raised her eyebrow. “Even the plants?”

“What plants?” Ainreth asked, frowning at her. He hadn’t seen any plants.

“Daryan has put up large, potted plants near rooms in the palace he does not want you to enter. From what I understand, they will spray you with pollen if you touch them in any way, thus ruining your invisibility.” Tysalin looked away pointedly. “You have not heard that from me, though.”

Ainreth shook his head. “Varilik is ridiculous. Why did you sign that stupid document?”

The Bulwark sighed heavily. “I was overruled. The other three Courtiers agreed to it. And my vote against it did nothing, obviously.”

Ainreth rubbed his eyes. He had already known that would be the case. But he’d needed to hear it. At least Tysalin had been against it if nothing else.

“I’m sorry, Ainreth. I’m sorry for everyone suffering because of this. But unfortunately, Daryan is gaining support for the war, especially after that attempt at his life.”

Ainreth gritted his teeth. Sundering Varilik. He didn’t even bother stopping himself from fantasizing about killing the man anymore. It was just such a nice, comforting mental image.

“And I truly hate to say it, but the new law so far at the very least seems to be stalling actual, bloody conflicts between citizens,” she said, scowling in displeasure. “So I cannot even hope to attack it on the basis of it not being functional.”

Ainreth groaned, so very tired of all of this. “Right. Of course.”

The Bulwark grimaced and sighed. “I appreciate what you are doing, Ain. I’m very proud of you, in fact.”

Ainreth blinked at her, not having expected that at all. “You…what?”

“You are fighting against a much stronger opponent against losing odds simply because you wish to help people. To stand against what you think is wrong. It’s admirable.” She smiled at him. It was such a fond smile, too. “If nothing else, this conflict brought out your best side.”

Ainreth huffed, shaking his head. He appreciated what she was trying to do, but that was the moment he had to disagree completely. “My best side? You mean the one that cause me to get so jealous I ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me? If Fenn wasn’t helping Varilik, the slimy misborn wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.”

Tysalin’s smile turned sad, but nevertheless she didn’t stop. “You are human. None of us is perfect. And neither is Fennrin. But what matters is your overall actions. You are trying to help people, a general opposing war. Do no discount your efforts like that.”

Ain didn’t want to agree with her. It didn’t feel like he’d done anything that important or useful. Wasn’t it just common sense to not support things that he disagreed with? But he said nothing, knowing he’d just get a long talking to about being young and foolish.

“I’m sorry I cannot be of much help,” the Bulwark said then, sighing once again and her shoulders sinking. “If Daryan continues succeeding in getting public support, I will have to return to our new territories in Orinovo. My duty is to the army. My personal opinions do not matter when no one else supports it.”

Ainreth had never realized how annoying her job must have been. He’d had to do things as a general, a soldier, that he hadn’t liked, but he hadn’t been in a position where he would have to do something he sincerely didn’t agree with. Until now, anyway.

It seemed that when he was in a situation like this, he would choose to rebel rather than do what was technically his duty.

He wasn’t mad about that. It simply made him very glad he wasn’t a Courtier. At least there were plenty of other general around. He wasn’t the one singular person making decisions.

Who would ever want to lead a country? It sounded horrible.

“If there’s news, I will let you know somehow,” Tysalin said, nodding at him. “But until then, I cannot give you anything, unfortunately. You should probably go, as well. The less time you spend here, the better. If you are discovered you will be arrested. And sun knows what Daryan will try to do with that then.”

She looked so sad about it, her mouth drawn into a frown. It made Ainreth’s heart clench a little.

He waved his hand, trying to reassure her since she seemed really worried about him. “It’s fine. No one here could actually arrest me, Tysa.”

The Bulwark scowled at him almost scoldingly. “What about Fennrin?”

Ainreth grimaced, his heart clenching more. He couldn’t imagine them fighting. And yet Fenn had pushed him with his power earlier. Given the surprise in his eyes that evening, it was clear he hadn’t meant to do that. Which was honestly possibly more concerning than Fennrin having intended to intimidate him like that.

“There’s just one of him. As long as I avoid him, I’m fine, right?”

Tysalin didn’t seem convinced, her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue. “Please, just get to safety.”

Ainreth nodded at her, turning invisible as he grabbed his stormfender. “Okay. I’ll see you later then?” He chuckled. “But you won’t see me, maybe.”

The Bulwark laughed too, shaking her head. “I have missed your nonsense. Take care of yourself, Ain.”

Ainreth felt very sad about leaving her, he just realized. He had missed her too. “You too.”

He needed to go, she was right. There was nothing for him here anyway. The only thing he could possibly gain here were Varilik’s secrets, assuming there were any secret plans, but the problem with that was that Varilik was clever, and he wouldn’t leave things like that just lying around.

He would probably just end up getting caught. He really should just go.

Ainreth nodded to himself as he started heading back down the corridor, intent to just leave the palace and go back to Anyri. But then he froze when he caught glimpse of purple.

He couldn’t help it. He looked, his breath hitching when he saw Fennrin and Varilik, walking toward him, holding hands.

Ainreth had to struggle to keep his invisibility in check, covering his mouth and squeezing himself to the wall as they walked past him, discussing something. Ainreth bit into his hand to hold in the growl threatening to escape him.

He needed to leave. He should leave. Nothing good would come of this. But even as he thought these things, he found his feet, as if on their own, moving, following the duo.

Whatever he would end up seeing would just make him upset, potentially endanger him by giving himself away. He knew this. So why couldn’t he turn back?

Ainreth followed them, his heart stuttering in horror at what he might see, not even noticing the plant he was about to brush against.

His eyes went wide when he flinched at the spray of pollen in his line of vision, barely managing to duck out of the way and only ending up with his arm all yellow.

Which was still awful. Sunder!

His instincts took over at that point, putting on his servant mask again instead of betraying himself completely. Looking up, he locked eyes with Varilik who was staring at him from a few feet away.

“Please, do mind the orytas. They can only produce so much pollen. We cannot allow Tyr-Naralyn to walk around here with no defenses.”

Ainreth nodded, wide-eyed, his heart going so fast. It was working. Varilik was being fooled.

Thank the moon. Ain wanted to collapse on the sundering floor, but he stayed in place so as not to look suspicious.

Varilik and Fenn kept walking then, letting Ainreth relax even more.

“By the sundering sun,” he muttered to himself, turning invisible again, now including the pollen.

This should have been the obvious moment he should leave. It had been too close for comfort. But of course he just stepped around the blighted plant, following Varilik into what turned out to be a small parlor.

He and Fennrin were now lounging on a couch, snuggling, with wine on the table in front of them. It made Ainreth’s blood boil to witness this, but he was here to spy on them. Perhaps they’d let something of note slip. Ainreth would just have to put up with seeing Varilik stroke Fenn’s hair and kiss his forehead.

Even if it tore his heart into pieces and made him want to vomit.

“Would you like some wine, my dear?” asked Varilik, pouring a glass for presumably himself.

Fennrin nodded, smiling, nuzzling the misborn’s shoulder. Ainreth’s eyes burned.

He was looking right into Fennrin’s eyes, even though the other man couldn’t see him. How could he be so lovey-dovey with Varilik? Had he ever been this happy-looking with Ainreth?

He must have been. Surely he must have been.

“I am sorry about earlier.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” Fennrin said as he took his glass of wine from him, still smiling. “I’m fine.”

“It was my fault, though,” Varilik insisted, and Ainreth was suddenly paying even more attention, rage burning brighter. Had the misborn somehow hurt Fenn?

Fennrin took a sip of his wine before putting the glass back on the table and hugging Varilik tightly. “It’s fine.”

Ainreth could already feel his rational thought slipping from him, replaced with the fury of a thousand suns. Somehow Varilik had hurt Fennrin. He was sure of it.

“I saw it when you were changing earlier. The bruise is quite large. Are you certain you do not want me to make you a salve for—”

Varilik then cried out in pain as a burst of brilliant, white light hit his exposed side. Ainreth didn’t even realize it had come from him for a second. Not that he cared in that particular moment.

He couldn’t help but relish the sight of him curled up in pain, squeezing his burn.

“You sundering, blighted snake! How dare you hurt Fenn?” Ainreth yelled at him, about to burn him some more. How dare he hurt him ever in any context?

Ainreth’s anger was replaced by confusion when he realized he couldn’t move. And then his eyes met Fennrin’s.

He was glaring at him, but his eyes were more hurt than angry. It was like a dagger to Ainreth’s heart.

“Daryan, are you okay?” Fennrin asked, looking Varilik over while keeping on hand in a fist to force Ainreth to be still. He probably thought he would try to kill Varilik if he let go. Ainreth was sure he would.

Varilik dragged himself to his feet, holding his side as he nodded, a pained grimace on his face. “Just a burn.”

Fennrin leaned down to inspect his wound, grimacing. Even from where he was suck, with the burned clothing in the way, Ainreth could tell it was a large area of his skin. And he could see blood.

He did get satisfaction from that. It should take a while to heal. Though he wished he had just killed him. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d just wanted to get Varilik away from Fenn, punish him for bruising him. But it was too late now.

“Thank you for stopping him from doing worse,” Varilik said, glaring at Ainreth as guards rushed in.

“Sir, we heard—” the two of them looked from a burned Varilik to Ainreth.

“Arrest him. Lock him in the dungeon,” Varilik said, his voice schooled to neutrality now, aside from a small waver of pain. Everything to pretend to be the wise, understanding leader of the nation, of course.

Fennrin grimaced, his eyes so pained as he forced Ainreth’s fingers to straighten out enough for the guards to wrestle hand clamps on them, rendering him powerless.

“Fenn,” Ainreth tried to talk to him as Fennrin let him go, the guards locking shackles onto his wrists and starting to drag him away. But Fenn just looked away, his eyes shining with tears.

The last of him Ainreth saw before he was dragged away too far was him and Varilik hugging.

And Ainreth yearned to be executed for his crimes.