To my dumfounded surprise, I spy her red tunic instantly.
“Sinisa,” I breathe, and suddenly I’m reinvigorated with desperation. I can’t go back to the palace. If I do, no one will save Gem. I’m her only hope, and my father will surely lock me up in the tower just to ensure I’m out of the way while he finishes the job.
My lungs burst. “Sinisa, help!”
13
Among Mortals
Sinisa
Concealed in the shadows, I wait until Acari has disappeared inside the inn before I casually lean back against one of the alleyway’s walls. “I’m not sure you could be more obvious stalking us if you tried,” I say, sighing at the figure tucked farther down the corridor.
Nerul’s bloodred eyes gleam like rubies dazzling in the depths of a black lake. His skin is so pale, he blends in with the night like a ray of moonlight, but it’s his mischievous grin, the canines that puncture his lips as they peel back that truly stand out.
“Us?” he asks, taking a step forward and basking in the night sky. “Therein lies your answer. There is no us. There is only you. I fear you may be taking this whole befriend the king thing a little too far.”
“You know what I meant,” I grumble, trying to make it sound like his assessment is ludicrous.
“I’m not so sure I do. You were sent back to Tayaraan to find the Guardians and report their whereabouts to the Council—or whatever information you gleaned. And yet, you’ve made no progress in your mission. Even now, rather than working through the night, instead I find you hiding in an alleyway, waiting for the prince to return so that you two can…what? Share a romantic evening together?”
“It’s not—” I cut myself off. A cyclone churns inside me, but I ball my fists together as if my own bare hands are all that’s keeping my frustration tethered. I know Nerul’s tactics. I know he is only trying to get a rise out of me. I know giving into him will mean he’s won, and I’ve lost.
But as much as I hate losing, my grip is slipping.
Before my irritation can unleash, I remind myself that Nerul—as infuriating as he is—is my superior, someone I am expected to obey and respect, someone who will one day soon be my colleague.
My eyes flutter with a forced bow of acquiescence. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, Shade Nerul, but I assure you that I have no romantic intentions with the prince.”
“Pray tell then, why are the two of you back in Ngal instead of seeking the Guardians?”
Unable to control my nostrils flaring, I turn my head away, and instead focus on the celebrations carrying on in the street.
It’s not often I’m in Tayaraan long enough to witness the festivities preluding the Festival of Wings. My duty is to perform my task and return to Veltuur, so it’s rare I am ever around long enough to actually see the celebrations unfolding.
Tonight is mild compared to what is to come, but there are still a few citizens dazzling in outfits of charms and gemstones, their masks vibrant with red and yellow and blue feathers. Some people finish decorating the altars they created with a different bird figurine, color of fabric, or feather, to denote one of the eight Divine Altúyur, in hopes of earning their blessing for the year:
The macaw for intellect.
The lorikeet for bravery.
The quetzal for integrity.
The peacock for inspiration.
The sungem for memory.
The dove for peace.
The owl for fate.
The aracari for compassion.
It’s no surprise that for every two altars I spy one of them is dedicated to the Divine Iracara. For a people terrified of becoming Reapers, compassion is one of their most coveted virtues. To them, compassion is what Reapers lack.
I’m not so sure that’s true.
With a deep breath, I explain myself to Nerul.
“The prince encountered daminila pollen earlier in the day and is still suffering its side effects. As he is my only lead to finding the Guardians, I need him level-headed, and so I suggested we rest in Ngal while we await word from Crow about the whereabouts of his sister—whom he lost to a group of bandits just outside of town. Since the prince would likely not have given me the information I needed if I didn’t first help him retrieve the girl, and since I’d like to keep her close by for when all of this is over, I decided helping him retrieve her—albeit time-consuming—is necessary.
“Secondly, I am not hiding. I was creating an opportunity for a conversation with you so I could tell you to be more careful with how closely you’re following me. If the prince sees you, he’ll start to think something is wrong, and if that happens, he might not tell me what he knows, and then you can explain to the Council how we lost their lead.”
“Watch your tone, Reaper Sinisa,” Nerul warns, his voice as cool as the night. The crow on his shoulder squawks at me too, like even it holds authority over me. Nerul reaches up to stroke the creature’s beak, his robes falling past his elbow to reveal the dark veins beneath his skin. “No one enjoys being under surveillance, but it is a necessary precaution, and one you would do well to accept.”
“It doesn’t bother me. I’m not doing anything wrong.” Although true, the words sound like a lie, even to me. “I just don’t want someone else ruining my mission.”
“And I commit to doing no such thing. If you are as devoted to Veltuur as you say you are, then I will loosen my leash, so to speak, and allow you to complete the task you’ve been delegated. But take heed. Not many Reapers are granted extended visits in Tayaraan. There is reason for that.”
I’d ask him why, but I know he wouldn’t answer me. It might also make me sound like I’m focusing on
