Raze the Night (Nightstar Book 2)

Yarima had initially been ecstatic to be sent on a spy mission to Kyr-Toryl, even if she had to bring Oretski with her. Or more accurately, she was going there with him because unlike Yarima, the queen trusted him to stop her from running off.

But now that they were here, cloaked so no one could recognize them, she could sense a tension that didn’t belong to the place at all. Everyone around them seemed grim and glum, lost in their own thoughts, or perhaps quietly talking in a small group on the corner of a street.

It couldn’t have been the war that made people feel this way, surely. Lys-Akkaria was winning, even if they had halted their march on Diramisk for now.

“Something is very wrong here,” Oretski said in a surprisingly convincing Lys-Akkarian accent. Yarima hadn’t known he was capable of it, given how thick his actual accent was in the Lys-Akkarian language.

“Yeah, I’m starting to think that, too,” Yarima muttered to him, also in Lys-Akkarian. Talking in Orinovan, even if quietly, wasn’t something they would be smart to risk. That was one of the reasons her mother had allowed her to come here.

There weren’t many windwalkers who could speak Lys-Akkarian, let alone pass for the country’s citizens.

“Stay close,” Oretski said quietly as he continued walking up the narrow street, taking the lead.

“I’m not going to run off and get you probably executed,” Yarima hissed after him.

Oretski looked back at her, his expression unamused. “Right, yes. That would be unlike you.”

Yarima gritted her teeth, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him into a nearby alley. They would have privacy here.

“Okay, we need to talk before we get to the center of the city.”

Oretski yanked his wrist out of her hold, folding his arms over his chest. But he stayed silent otherwise, raising his eyebrows at her to urge her to speak.

“We can’t bicker,” Yarima said, scolding him. “It will draw attention.”

Oretski frowned at her. “Yes, I know. I have not been bickering.”

Yarima pointed her finger in his face. “As if. You’ve been constantly making these little taunting comments to piss me off.”

Oretski sighed dramatically, shrugging. At least he wasn’t pretending otherwise.

“Look, I get that you’re pissy right now about losing your rank. But that’s not my fault,” Yarima continued, making Oretski set his jaw. He still didn’t say anything, though. “I am not going to do anything to get you in trouble. If only for my brother’s sake.”

Oretski’s eyes turned sad at the mention of Denir, his gaze drifting to the ground as shoulders sank and he let his arms fall at his sides. “So he told you.”

“I would have figured it out either way,” Yarima said, shaking her head. “He is very clearly in love with you. And he worries about you.”

Oretski sighed, pulling his cloak off his head so he could run his hands through his hair. His white hair.

“I can’t believe you did that to yourself, by the way.”

Oretski frowned at her, following her eyes to realize she was talking about the experiments. He straightened up, putting on that emotionless mask he always used when talking about his duties to queen and country. Yarima was expecting a lecture.

“It was worth it,” Oretski said, leaving it at that much to Yarima’s surprise.

“You do realize that I was the first?” she said, gritting her teeth. She still woke up screaming sometimes, remembering the needles, the constant pain, the days of drifting in and out after the treatments. “No one asked me to go through it. I never would have chosen it. And meanwhile you went into it happily.”

Oretski scowled at her. “My choices are my own. What happened to you is pitiable. But it opened the door to progress.”

“Progress,” she snorted as she repeated the word. “Abomination.”

“Then we are both monsters,” Oretski said, sounding very at peace with it. “So be it. I will always do what I can to protect Orinovo.”

Yarima wanted to roll her eyes. They always ended up here no matter what the topic of the conversation had been. Thankfully, she knew very well the one thing that always worked.

“What about giving the Daybreaker information in exchange for protecting Denir?”

Oretski grimaced and looked away. He didn’t want to admit it, clearly, but Oretski cared about Denir more than he cared about Orinovo. That much was clear to Yarima, which was also the only reason why she didn’t mind Denir dating someone as fanatical as Oretski.

“You’d do it again, too,” she continued, not even making it sound like a question because they both knew she was right.

“Without hesitation,” Oretski said, his shoulders sinking further. “I am not strong enough to end things with Denir. And therefore I am a failure.”

Yarima scowled, filled with righteous anger as she slaps Oretski upside the head, making him cry out in surprise and jerk.

Yarima then grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him close and glaring fiercely, putting on her seldom used commanding royal tone of voice.

“No one talks about my little brother like that. You are privileged to get to be with him. Privileged that he chose you. Do you understand?”

Oretski stared at her with his mouth open, blinking in shock. Apparently he hadn’t thought she was capable of this at all. He wasn’t even pushing her away.

“Do you understand?” she repeated, practically growling the question at him.

Oretski’s throat bobbed as he nodded. “Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Yarima raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t expected an apology from him ever. But perhaps he was apologizing more to Denir than her.

“Good. Remember who you’re talking about,” Yarima grumbled, offended for her brother. “Maybe you should be focusing on why our country thinks you dating another man is a problem.”

She stalked away then, having made her point. Oretski soon caught up with her, having fixed his cloak and pulled the hood over his hair again. When Yarima snuck a glance his way, she noted that he was glaring at the cobblestone beneath their feet, brooding even more than before.

Good. The fact that he wasn’t arguing with her meant that he knew she was right. If her brother really wanted to be with Oretski, then Yarima would do her best to try to get through to him. If he refused, she refused to approve of their courting.

Deni deserved someone who wasn’t ashamed of being with him. That would be incredible cruel to him. And she was certain Oretski realized it.

They continued their journey toward the palace in silence, choosing streets with many people to better disappear among the crowd.

Thankfully, it seemed to be working. No one had so far tried to bother them, or even really looked their way.

A lot of people though seemed to be heading up toward what Yarima assumed would be the main city square. She’d only been here a few times, but she remembered the main streets well enough.

“Do you think there is some kind of event going on?” she whispered to Oretski, leaning closer to his ear. The man hummed.

“I have overheard something about the High Herald being attacked.”

“Maybe some kind of decree then,” Yarima said, nodding to herself. The Herald being attacked in his own city was unheard of, though.

Who would be so bold as to try?

She got her answer very quickly when they passed a group of people talking at a street corner.

“I don’t believe it for a second. The Daybreaker would never try to kill anyone.”

Yarima immediately froze, her eyes wide. She knew this was unwise, but she needed to immediately ask them what was going on. Because surely she was misunderstanding something.

“Excuse me,” she said, putting on her best accent to fool the people. “I am a traveler from Lor-Lyntera,” she said, picking a town at random. “I only just arrived. What did the Daybreaker do?”

The three of them looked at her, the woman who had just spoken giving her a crestfallen look. The two others seemed rather heartbroken as well.

“Yesterday, the Daybreaker used his power to attack the Herald. If not for the Nightrazer, he would have likely killed him.”

Yarima gaped at her. That…. That couldn’t be possible. That must have been some kind of trick. She had lived in Lys-Akkaria for years, so she knew that Tyr-Naralyn didn’t like Daryan Varilik very much.

But to attack him? To the point of having tried to kill him? That seemed unlikely. And insane.

“Something is going to happen at the square soon. That’s where all these people are heading,” another one told her. “You will probably find out more there.” Then he shook his head, scoffing.

Yarima nodding at them, still shaken from the utter shock of this revelation as she started to walk next to Oretski again. “I suppose we are going to the square.”

Oretski nodded at her, his mouth drawn into a thin line, a frown on his face as he looked ahead.

“You don’t like to talk much, do you?” Yarima said after a moment in an attempt to lighten the mood. Oretski gave her a blank stare.

“And you talk too much,” he deadpanned, giving her a fake smile. “With all due respect.”

Yarima rolled her eyes. What did Deni see in this man, aside from his looks? Then again, she hadn’t really seen them interacting. Maybe Oretski was different when with Denir.

They reached the square in silence, though they could barely see the podium in the middle. There were so many people here. Yarima didn’t think she’d ever even heard of the place being so full.

Despite that, though, there wasn’t that much noise. There was the usual muttering, but given the numbers, it should have been much louder.

Something bad was going to happen here, and it seemed everyone knew it. In Orinovo, attacking the leader of the country would end in execution. Yarima wasn’t certain about Lys-Akkaria, but this was the Daybreaker. They couldn’t kill him. He was too important for them. So what were they going to do if he truly had attacked the Herald?

They waited for quite a while, managing to get a spot with better view of the podium eventually by pushing past people, but neither of them said a word. And even though Yarima minded it because the tension was suffocating, she couldn’t get herself to break the silence for that same reason.

A louder mutter when through the crowd suddenly, and Yarima got on her toes, trying to see if someone was coming. And indeed, a procession of guards was suddenly walking up the podium. With the damned Daybreaker in chains.

Yarima couldn’t believe that sight. Her mind immediately tried to reject it as some kind of trick. Maybe somehow Lys-Akkaria had figured out she and Oretski were here to spy on them and had put on an act, and somehow everyone was in on it.

But that was ridiculous for numerous reasons. The much more rational explanation was that this just was real. Somehow.

Yarima watched for Oretski’s reaction, finding his face confused and angry. If this situation weren’t so insane, she would make fun of him for being annoyed that his nemesis had been captured by his own nation before Oretski managed it.

“Today is a dark day,” said the Herald, who Yarima only then noticed was there. He was standing in front of everyone, addressing the crowd with a solemn expression on his face. And the shadowforger next to him, a bit toward the back, staring down at the floor of the podium. No surprises there, though. His boyfriend had gotten arrested.

“Yesterday, Ainreth Tyr-Naralyn tried to kill me,” said the Herald, looking at the Daybreaker. “And he would have succeeded if not for Fennrin protecting me.” The Herald looked back to the crowd. “It brings me no joy what I am about to do. But it is necessary. Behavior like this cannot be tolerated. Not even when it comes to the Daybreaker.”

Surely they weren’t going to kill him. Surely. Yarima’s breath stilled as she watched the Herald take something out of his pocket. She couldn’t see what it was, exactly, but soon it turned into a thick, long vine. Even from where she was standing Yarima could see thorns.

What was that? Clearly the Herald had used his sproutkeeping powers to transform a plant into this, but what purpose—

Her eyes went wide when she realized where this was going. Surely the Herald wasn’t going to do that.

“Fenn, if you would raise him up?” the Herald told the shadowforger who’s eyes went wide with horror.

Yarima almost felt bad for him. He just looked that horrified. Clearly he’d not been told what he was here to do.

Yarima watched like a hawk, trying to take in every detail, understand what was happening.

“Well?” the Herald said, his voice neutral, but there was a clear warning in that one word.

“Leave him out of this, you blighted misborn,” Tyr-Naralyn growled at him, but Varilik barely gave him a glance. He just kept staring at Fennrin who looked away and finally raised his hand.

The shadowforger’s face was so miserably that it looked as though he was the one getting publicly whipped here. And Yarima was certain that was what was about to happen.

Yarima watched as Fennrin made the Daybreaker flow up a little off the ground, looking at him as little as possible.

“A bit higher, if you would. And turn him around,” the Herald told him, the shadowforger obeying, looking like he wanted to cry. It was just a strange sight all around.

The Daybreaker was intently glaring at the Herald, now hanging a few feet in the air. But he was staying silent and stoic. Perhaps an even stranger sight.

Varilik readied his thorn whip. “Under normal circumstances, trying to assassinate a Courtier would be at the very least a life sentence in jail. But for his service to the country, the Daybreaker will only receive a public lashing. Consider this a favor for your years of service, general.”

Tyr-Naralyn was saying something to the shadowforger if Yarima could judge the situation correctly, but she couldn’t hear him over the people gasping and talking over each other.

Everyone shut up really quickly, though, when the Herald cracked the long thorny vine over the Daybreaker’s back. Ainreth didn’t even flinch though, and Yarima belatedly realized why.

Fennrin was holding him in place. He physically couldn’t flinch even an inch away. And the shadowforger himself was just staring down at Tyr-Naralyn’s shadow, apparently refusing to look at him.

Varilik whipped him again and again, and all Yarima could do was stare at the scene along with everyone else. There was a deathly silence, only broken by the whip cracks, and finally the Daybreaker’s cries of pain, which he had been resisting making until now. His shirt was stained red and torn up now, and Varilik kept beating him.

It was surreal and chilling, something Yarima had never expected to see ever in her life. This is how Orinovo would have treated Tyr-Naralyn if he’d ever gotten captured by them. Not Lys-Akkaria. What in the sundering sun had been going on in this country since she’d left?

It felt like hours before Varilik was done. Yarima had been counting—he’d whipped Tyr-Naralyn twenty times. And by the end of it, the Daybreaker was sobbing in pain.

This had been harrowing. And Yarima didn’t even like the man.

“That will be all, Fenn,” Varilik said, making the vine retreat into its tiny, former self and putting it into his pocket. The shadowforger put Tyr-Naralyn down on the podium, staring down at him with such a heartbroken expression. But he looked away when Varilik called at him, offering him his hand.

Fennrin seemed to hesitate, but then he walked around Tyr-Naralyn, and taking Varilik’s hand, he was led away off the podium, the guards following him and Varilik.

And Yarima was reeling. A few people pushed past her, running to the podium to Tyr-Naralyn, obscuring her view of his pathetic, crumpled-up form, and all she could do was stand there, shaken.

It seemed they would have to stay in Kyr-Toryl for a while longer to investigate. Because what in the moon had just happened? And why had it happened?

She exchanged a look with Oretski, only to find determination in his eyes. The same determination she was feeling.

They were going to get to the bottom of this.