Chapter 46 | set in stone
Carnal music swelled throughout the foyer, rising and falling like an acoustic autumn night.
The light taps and clicks of footwear comingled across the pale amber floors, accented with delicate fissures of pink opal up the enclosing walls. The subtle shade brought attention to the intimidating red eyes of the cobra sculptures, designed to spill water between their elongated fangs and into the large basins in place on either side of the few alcoves leading into various rooms of the citadel.
Armed guards were posted by every basin, preventing guests from wandering off beyond the ballroom. Most looked similar to the ones who manned Asylum. Though two posted at the bottom of an extensive staircase were dressed in black armor - their declared elites among the trained soldiers.
A quick inquiry from Nox revealed the two to be The Circle's personal security detail.
When the time was right and the orleizen council was distracted, Luk would attempt to hack into the citadel's database to locate where Sio would most likely be stationed. Though, sneaking around the guards in a room full of people would prove to be a challenge.
I looked up and admired the lifelike illusion of constellations dancing across the galactic ceiling. The stars gyrated with the music's tempo, dispersing and coming together to create new constellations. All of which I’d never had the pleasure of catching in my telescope back home.
My heart sang from every new path, every new formation of stars. On the opposite side, rounded recesses lead out onto a balcony facing the limited expanse of forests underneath, and providing a view of three moons, two full and one crescent, hanging in the sky beyond the shimmery astral barrier.
Ashlets must look stunning on a night like this.
In the center of the grand space, like a centerpiece to a formal table, a monumental-sized construct plated in opalite, reigned a replica of Planet Orlaith. It slowly rotated on its gleaming axis, ornamented with the moons and planets orbiting it.
However, it wasn’t a true representation of Orlaith today. The entire planet bristled in lush colors, with not a single trace of the ruinous badlands in sight.
“Life before The Fall.” Reks said under his breath, nodding to a stewardess when she offered us drinks. He took two flutes off the plate and handed me one. “Only have a sip from this one. This Altered blend has been infused with a rare substance that sharpens your senses. Everything you smell, see, hear, and touch is dramatically heightened. It's addictive, and can easily overstimulate you if overconsumed.” he huffed his disapproval, swirling the concoction. “And this is why council-thrown parties are always a drag.”
Nox answered my following confusion before I formed the question in my head. ~ It is called Altered Glutton. It is named this because having too much of a good thing, such as sharper, refined eyesight or sensitive hyperawareness of the simplest skin-to-skin contact, can easily send one’s body into shock. Like an addictive drug, it not only affects the consumer but also their Guide. When that occurs, Guides are not well-equipped to handle the overstimulation. Overdose on Altered Glutton sends most to the hospital.~
I eyed the drink in my hand. A distasteful sneer crept up to scrunch half of my nose. “Why serve something so dangerous?”
“Why else but to flaunt council wealth?” he took one sip, then set it down on a passing server tray. “It’s all about status symbols for these people.”
I considered that, noting how he only dared to take a single light sip before getting rid of the entire glass. Obtaining heightened senses sounded amazing on the surface level. But testing out a drug-like Altered blend at a gala where we were undercover amongst armed guards and important high ranks seemed… like a poor decision.
On top of that, my senses already felt like they went into overdrive when it came to Reks touching me, whispering, being in close proximity in general… I shivered at the thought of what horrors of embarrassment would take place if I sipped on something designed to heighten that even further. Hell. I would turn into a lust monster.
My cheeks heated from the phantom of potential embarrassment.
I gave the glass away to the first person who walked by, who only rose her brows and lifted the flute in silent thanks.
“You don’t wish to try it?” Reks gave me a scrutinizing look.
“Oh, my senses are sharp enough.”
His wolfish smirk bled through the glamour. “Your restraint continues to impress me.” his hand lifted to touch me, then quickly fell as he remembered our undercover roles. “Mm. I am going to make you pay greatly for having me endure this torture.”
I gawked at him, pushing playfully at his shoulder. “Again, not my–”
“Piren! There you are.” Nolan stepped into view, grabbing Reks by the shoulder and giving him a little shake. His hazel eyes, like vibrant autumn leaves, settled on me before a slow grin rose.
He loosened his grip on Reks, whose face somehow remained amused despite the sudden surprise arrival. Nolan draped an elbow on his shoulder, kicking a leg over the other as he gave me a flirtatious wink. “Hi, Lo. You aren't still mad at me for that thing, are you?”
Lo? Curses flung around in my brain like a pinball arcade game on panic mode.
"Don't know. Are you still pouting about it?" I tossed it back at him, praying the glamour masked the nervous inflections in my own tone.
"Lo, Lo, Lo... it's going to be hard to avoid me now that your brother and I are buds." his tone turned to amused scolding. “Who failed to mention his gorgeous sister would be in attendance."
Reks gave him a dubious look. "You drank over half of my date. What more do you want from me?"
So, so many things in this conversation threw me off.
From their body language, Reks must have gotten friendly with Nolan in the Men’s Styling Hall. Reks played the part of Piren so well over there, Nolan had no idea who laid under the glamour.
He had no idea he cuddled up to the vitiate who attacked him in Altered.
A warning would have been nice.
~We're referring to a rare bottle of ambrosia. I stole it and made up a story, pretending our father didn’t care if I drank it or kept it.~ Reks quickly supplied through our mental commlink.
I lifted my brows, feigning disinterest toward the two men. “I’m surprised he shared her with you. He doesn’t normally like to share.” I caught the flash of wicked recognition on Reks’ face before he smoothed it over with an agreeing laugh.
I knew he’d remind me of that little comment later when we were alone, and I oh so looked forward to it.
“That's so Nikoe of you,” Nolan laughed, stepping over to my side to rest an arm on my shoulder instead. Every organ dropped to the pit of my stomach, each being replaced by a festering fear of him seeing through my glamour. I had to keep reminding myself to be cool.
“It’s a sibling thing.” he continued, pointing at Piren and leaning closer to my ear to whisper, “whether it be keeping rare wine, friends groups, or secrets.”
He said it so casually, and it was arguably true in many cases, yet it felt as if Nolan embedded an underlying tone of a double meaning.
Hinting at something only he and Loren knew? I couldn't be sure. Diving deeper into conversation with Nolan posed a huge threat if he knew her well. But acting dodgy would cause suspicion too.
I sidestepped so his arm slid away from my shoulder. I offered a smile, giving my fake brother a sidelong look. “You can add pride to that list. Piren still can’t get over how I embarrassed him in front of his friends when I beat him in every game they played. I think he’s still looking for a way to get back at me for it.” I snuck Reks a coy wink.
Through the guise, I caught a challenging look flash across his face.
Nolan barked out a laugh. “That would certainly do it!”
I looked away from Reks, realizing we played far too much with fire here. Even if Nolan was completely oblivious, one wrong word or gesture could mean the opposite.
We needed a casual escape from this conversation. Excusing myself to the restroom might do the trick.
“That was years ago.” Reks commended through Piren’s tone. He tucked a hand in one of his pockets, shaking his head as he mentally reached out through the comm to add, ~I recall our last little game ending in a draw, sweet flame.~
Heat swarmed my cheeks, and I begged it wouldn’t show through the glamour. Can't he see I'm working here?
“You know what’ll get under your brother’s skin?” Nolan glanced between us, not missing a beat as his long fingers stretched out in offer toward me. “Taking to the dance floor with his new friend... and soon-to-be commander.” His tone was rueful, like he delighted in the rivalry and wanted nothing more than to stir it up even further.
Something like impending doom squeezed my chest. Reks stiffened under the guise and failed to hide the reaction. It only proved Nolan's point, who grinned vulpinely.
“I-I’m not in the mood to incite a sibling war tonight. Another time.” I tried to wave Nolan off.
A daring expression painted Nolan’s face as he grinned. “What’s the fun in that?” he took my hand in his, not taking no for an answer. He winked at Piren as he led me toward the dance floor. “If you really wanna get back at me Piren, have a turn around with my brother for a song. It’ll eat at my soul. Swear!” he laughed, turning his back to him and tugging me into both his arms as we slid onto the floor with the other dancers.
Crap.
I shot Reks a pleading look over my shoulder. Both of his hands were now fisted inside his pockets, expression molding into what a wolf may exhibit if taunted one too many times. He must have realized it too. Reks relaxed his shoulders and faintly rubbed at his chin, pinpointing Nikoe not too far off, and went to start a conversation with him.
~Easy to see why he ticks off his brother so much.~ Reks’ voice sounded husky in my mind.
Nolan pulled me in closer, drawing my attention back to him. “You know, he really had me going there for a while.” he smiled, autumn eyes roving up and down my dress. “And this dress. I mean, wow. You look incredible.”
“I, uh, thank you?” I blinked, not sure what the former had meant. Did he really think Piren would ask Nikoe to dance?
Before I could ask, he led me into a twirl in time with the beat of the music, steering us deeper into the fold. When he pulled me back in, he nodded over to where Reks currently spoke to both his brother and Danika. “How funny would it be if he actually convinced my brother to dance with him.” he tilted his head up in a lighthearted chuckle. “Gah, I'd remember it forever. I mean, could you imagine? Nikoe slow-dancing with that elusive dweller prick… where in the blazes does he sleep anyway? I raked through every district and came up empty at every turn. Even eluded all the damn spy cams. A wasted effort.” he shook his head, smiling as if exposing the truth to me so openly was no big deal.
My blood turned icy in panic. I tripped over one of my heels, but Nolan’s hands held firm, ensuring we didn't miss a beat along with the other dancers on the floor.
“S-sorry. Who are we talking about again?” I tried to feign confusion.
He gave me a knowing look, like a teacher would to a lying middle school student. “The guy really did execute everything so well. It would have been perfect except for a couple minor details. Dead giveaways, I’m afraid. The first one is the fact I know exactly where the real Lo is today."
My heart pounded like a jackhammer against my chest, my ears. Fear skidded across my skin as I turned to find Reks through the dancers, preparing to mentally scream out to him in warning.
“Please, hear me out. Act casual so Squiggles doesn’t catch on.” Nolan steeled his grip on my waist, my hand. He kept our steps moving with the other dancers, always putting other couples between my line of sight, obstructing my view from Reks. “I come in peace. I swear.” he added with a small tilt of his head.
I drew in a long, shaky breath before slowly releasing it. Nolan might have figured us out, but that didn’t mean he knew everything. No. Reks was only one mental thought away if Nolan tried something.
“That nickname sucks.” I said instead, forcing my muscles to relax in his steely hold, showing my willingness to go along with him. For the time being.
He blinked, eyes brightening. “Okay, nickname police.” his lips lilted towards that prominent grin of his. “Can ya blame me? He busted me up and fried my favorite gun, so I wasn’t feeling too generous in the name department. But I can't take all the credit. Etch came up with it.”
Nox stirred restlessly between my muscles, like a guard dog unsure of who lurked behind a closed door. Both of us were still assessing what kind of threat Nolan Rhosyn, First-Class Soldier and son of the War General, posed to us. He was far more cunning than he let on to not only me, but to the world around him. Something he played greatly to his advantage.
~I have half a mind to whisk you out of those greedy hands and finish the dance with you myself.~ Reks growled through the commlink.
~Don’t do anything reckless.~ I thought back to him. ~It’ll look bad if you steal the General’s son’s dance partner in the middle of a song. I'd rather dance with you, but getting weird looks from everyone because of the sibling glamours would steal the mood.~
~Yet another thing I’ll be discussing with you in great detail later tonight.~ he promised.
“Though, I guess I don't particularly need to use a nickname for him anymore... now that I've figured out his true identity." Nolan smiled softly at my widening stare. "Etch acted livid with me after their fight in the Cage. At first, I was so confused why Etch would accuse me of hiding his family lineage from him, saying this guy knew things about his family. What a random thing to claim. Unless..." his hand spread out against my lower back, pulling me in closer to add, "unless, it wasn't random at all. So I convinced Etch to break into my father's office with me late in the night. It took hours to go through stacks of encrypted files on vitiates. But lo and behold, I scored a jackpot. Besides the hair and scars, Etch is a spitting image of a vitiate named Cyra Aizling. There's no mistaking it. And you know to who her file was closely attached? A fucking legend, The Moon's Fangs. At first, I couldn't believe it. Reks Alren, the empire's most notorious monster, still kicking? His alias alone still invokes fear across nations. No way he could still be alive. But the things he claimed to know, and with those bizarre abilities? It has to be him."
I paled.
Cyra was Etch's ancestor? Reks must have known the second he laid eyes on the fighter.
Nox squirmed uncomfortably, begging we inform Reks of this immediately.
I wanted to, but the moment we informed Reks, that'd be the end of this conversation. It might cause a scene. And Nolan wouldn't be so inclined to share this with him if he came to interrupt. Before I told Reks, I needed to find out why Nolan decided to confess.
“If you’re so curious, how about you ask him yourself?” my brow rose in a clipped dare.
His grin scrunched into a pursed smile. “Mm. Hard pass.” he loosened his grip long enough to lead me into a single spin, then pulled my waist back into a steadfast hold. A reminder I wouldn’t be getting away until he allowed it. “But on a more serious note,” the gleefulness fell from his face like the sun dipping under a fogged horizon as he set his back in the direction of where Reks wooed both Danika and his brother on the dance floor’s edge. “Are you okay? He hasn't... hurt you, has he? Made you do anything? You're not even supposed to have this Guide. Did he force it on you? The stories about The Moon's Fangs are one thing. But his files... his files are terrifying, Amelia.”
He spun us back around so that if Reks were to glance over in this direction, he’d only catch glimpses of my back as I answered his question.
~What preposterous accusations! How dare he accuse the dutiful Reks Arlen of cruel deeds. We must inform him!~ Nox hissed.
Patience, Nox.
We couldn't have Nolan getting spooked and fleeing the scene. Not yet.
“What makes you believe I'd believe anything from your mouth after what you pulled on me at Altered?” I sneered.
He scoffed – the first sign of anger behind his exterior. His grip tightened around my hand, biting a little in my waist. "Has he even told you why you're here?"
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He shook his head, dismissing my question and glancing over at the others to make sure they still stood in the same spot as before.
A fresh swell of anger boiled up my chest. If he wasn't willing to answer my questions, then no way in hell I'd be dancing around his own agenda.
“Going to avoid my question? Fine. Interrogation over." I glared up at him. "Squeeze me any harder, and I won't hesitate before ramming my knee between your thighs.”
His grip loosened. But he dropped my hand to instead grab my waist, pressing me closer with the other against my back. “No, wait.” his chest pressed against mine, and it almost felt... desperate. I planted both of my palms against his chest to make room, but listened as words spilled from his mouth, “Fates Above… I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. For the past, for now, for the part I've played… for everything. My back's been up against a wall.” his voice adopted a tremble. His throat bobbed, as if struggling to keep a surge of emotion at bay. “You didn’t des-serve it, Amelia. Any of it.”
The song came to a soft end. Something cold squeezed my chest as I stared at Nolan, waiting for him to explain. But his autumn eyes glistened as he dropped his arms from me and stepped back with a too-wide grin. A grin that in no way matched his watering eyes.
“Nolan, what aren’t you telling me?”
"Shayd damn you, man." Etch, dressed like a volcanic god, cut in and grabbed Nolan by the shoulder, and growled through clenched teeth. "You said he'd be here."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Reks making his way in our direction too.
Nolan laughed, but there was a sadness edging it. "Thanks for the dance, Lo. But my bud and I have an obligation to attend to. See ya on the flipside." he saluted me, but didn't meet my gaze as he and Etch turned to vacate the dance floor.
Something wasn't right. Why... why would he act so sad?
I stared after him, chest tightening.
The way he said my name in his ominous apology, it was gutwrenching. Something about it felt… final.
Set in stone.