Chapter Four
Fin.
“We need to get going. I need to be at the estate before midnight. We’ve got three hours.” I say as I ruffle my hair and glance over at Kano. He’s slumped on the old bench they have back here, his face in his hands.
“You can mope later. We need to get going.” I say as I walk towards the gate back out of the backyard.
“You know, you’re fucking crazy.” Kano snarls as he grabs his sword off the ground. I simply smile as he follows me to the front of his house. I scoop up my bag from the lawn and wipe my dagger off with a napkin.
I look into the small reflection on the incredibly reflective surface of the blade. Right behind my shoulder, I can see the faintest hint of red eyes, looking back into my own. I should be used to it, yet I still stiffen and glance over my shoulder, my gaze darting around.
The slightest shift in the air, the barest hint of cold fingers gliding down my spine. I drag my fingernails up my arm, rewarded by the bright, stinging pain. “We’re taking my bike,” I tell Kano.
I need the ride anyway. I shiver and swing my leg over the side of my bike. My mom doesn’t know about my motorcycle; it’s a personal project she would disapprove of. It’s sleek and angular, with heavy black wheels and gold rims; it’s a vibrant and almost obnoxious white with an iridescent finish that I might love too much. I’ve poured hours into my bike, and fuck does she go fast?
“I’m not getting on that thing.” Kano sneers with obvious disgust, and I roll my eyes.
“Kano.” I groan, massaging my temples. “You’re the head enforcer of Mancer District. Getting on a motorcycle isn’t going to kill you. Get on.” I am so close to either bursting into tears or screaming at the top of my lungs. I just need him to cooperate; I need something to go right, for once I desperately want to be in control.
Kano hesitates before sliding onto my bike behind me; he wraps his large arms around my waist, and heat prickles my neck. I clear my throat and pass him a helmet, sliding my own on. I take a deep breath and pull off the curb, giving my small neighborhood a quick look. A sinking feeling in my gut tells me I won’t return for a long while.
⬷⬷⬷
It’s far too soon that the grand gates of Mancer’s estate pull into view. The intricate gold work done by hand leaves a sour taste on my tongue. I drive and park my bike in the shadows. Kano climbs off, and I quickly cover my baby with some shrubs and leaves, careful not to chip her paint.
“Okay. Around the back, there’s a guard entrance. But I swear, Fin, this is as far as I’m taking you.” He huffs and turns on his heel, stomping across the yard towards the back. I throw off my helmet and shake off my slightly damp hair. When we turn a corner he leads us down a narrow corridor with a neatly done stone path.
We’re wedged between two buildings. He stops and turns to what seems to be an entirely average stone wall. Maybe average is the wrong word, expensive feels proper. He waves his hand over the white stone, no magic being used. The wall groans and slides aside to reveal a dark stairwell. “Follow the hallway to the guard's quarters, try not to get caught,” he says gruffly and then walks off.
He leaves me alone staring down the dark path that seems to represent everything I fear and everything I’m fighting for at the same moment. All I want to do is go back to when I was seven and paint my toenails on Amelia’s front porch before she had to move to the Capitol. When I was seven I wasn’t facing death and my actions, I was thinking about how to get Kano to hold my hand.
I scrub my face and throw away my inhibitions, taking the first step down the cold stairwell.
Walking down the cool passage, I wrap my arms around myself, goosebumps breaking out against my skin. I try to breathe deeply as I wander through the dark. The stairs are concrete and the only sound filling the air is the dull thud of my shoes and my heavy breathing. The light behind me slowly dies out as I move farther from the doorway.
Finally, I reach a doorway, the jovial voices of guards in the distance bouncing off the walls. Instead of heading toward their quarters, I turn left, heading up another set of steps.
I push against a heavy wooden cellar door. it resists for a beat too long and I’m gripped with the fear that I’m trapped, but then with a groan, it swings open. I scramble out, my knees meeting soft, plush grass. I take several deep breaths of air.
My gaze bounces around my surroundings, taking in the area. A courtyard, with high hedge walls, a small fountain made of white marble. A lion perched atop the third tier, the symbol of Mancer. A large, majestic weeping willow tree stands a few feet behind the fountain. The leaves are a soft mossy green that sway lazily in the late evening breeze.
“Who are you?”
I startle and push to my feet, I look around frantically, sure I’ve been caught. I turn and spot a man, lounging on one of the pale branches of the willow. Bronze skin and short cropped dark hair, eyes so dark they’re almost black. Edward Hart. Shit. This isn’t good. In an instant he’s before me, only a few inches taller than my five foot nine.
Something passes through his gaze, his eyes widening a fraction, his brows pinching.
“I-”
“Why are you here?” He cuts me off as his eyes narrow.
I hadn’t thought this far. I bite down on my bottom lip. “I had a vision that I should come to you. I am a traveler.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind and what I go with.
His eyes light up in a way I don’t understand. How is he buying this?
“So you come from Pneuma.” He says it as a statement and not a question.
“Yes, that is my place of origin. This is the first time in a number of years I’ve returned to Eos.” I say trying and hopefully succeeding to seem wistful. I’m pulling this out of my ass at this point, attempting to be someone entirely different.
“I’m-” I attempt to tell him my name, a fake name, but he cuts me off.
“I don’t need your name.” He replies, coming to stand beside me. He places a hand on the small of my back and leads me out of the courtyard. I am at a complete loss. This is working out too well. Something doesn’t exactly feel right.
“You really don't want to know my name? Or why I'm here?” I ask, skepticism saturating my words as I glance over at him.
“No.” He says firmly and I feel myself getting dizzy, I should honestly be excited. But how can I be when it feels too good to be true.
“Why not?”
“I believe you're a part of an oracle.” He says turning to look at me as my eyes fly wide.