When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 265

“I suggest we tell no one else but Kagura and Xavier of our plans, and the details of what has happened. The rest is up to her to inform her court on,” I sigh reluctantly, lacing my fingers together as I rest my chin up on top of my hands.

It has come to the point in the night where the vast majority of the tavern is drunk enough to start losing scraps of dignity, and so upon noticing this little collection of outside individuals across the room, have since begun to holler with wavering, drunken voices. For the most part, it is merely amiable banter:

‘Come and have a drink with us!’

‘Where you from, outsiders?’

But occasionally the rambunctious giggles of the female population begin to rise over the crows of drunkards and faery folk as they whisper to each other about which one of the boys at our table they would take home tonight. It appears Ithuriel and I make quite a popular bet, if only for our…  exotic,  appearances.

It is only a shame this atmosphere is so stifling.

Obviously having heard them too, Ithuriel gives a low grumble as he stabs his fork into the cuts of meat, cutting himself off pieces and chewing slowly to drown out the sounds of rowdy voices. I have never seen a person look so brooding in my life.

“You are probably right with that idea,” Fangorn murmurs into his glass, swilling down the last drops of venison blood with a refreshed gasp. “Though I would be more inclined to let you do all the explaining, considering the crystal palace or the Folk might not take to fondly to other outsiders,” he adds, giving Kal and Ithuriel a poignant look.

Of course, I think to myself gravelly, there is always the possibility that the news of the peace treaty between vampires and angels has yet to be divulged to Kagura, which of course will spark a few questions. But considering how quickly the news had travelled on the first day alone, I am hoping that will not be the case.

Besides me, Ithuriel murmurs his assent, mulling over this information with another small sip from his glass.

Considering how restricted the angel’s had always been with allowing their people to stray outside the borders, I can imagine that Ithuriel knows very little about the outside world aside from what he has written in his books. Many of the creatures and experiences he has obtained both living in the palace of Sezeria and otherwise would be entirely new to him, and very daunting. What’s more, he has lost one of his only and longest companions to a creature whose intent for her is both unknown and entirely daunting. I can only imagine what he must feel like now.

Except I don’t have to imagine, because the racing of his heart tells me enough. Despite the brave face he puts on, he is terrified.

“I am going up to bed,” he admits at last, pushing away his barely touched cup of wine with the tips of his fingers. Pushing his fingers past his now amber hair, he steadies himself on the side of the table, his brow furrowed and his eyes closed. He looks exhausted.

I had hoped to keep the table a little longer for discussion, but… looking around at the weary and exhausted faces, I decide better of it. Tomorrow will be infinitely more fruitful given the fact my associates will not fall asleep on the job. Flicking a hand to them, I shoo them away.

“Alright, off to bed then. We have an early start tomorrow morning. Go tell the tavern lady you are with  me, she will show you to our room,” I instruct, gathering up the cups on the table in a neat pile. Noticing Kal’s greedy look at the remaining alcohol on the table as he creeps his hands towards it, I smack him away, sending him coiling back.

“Come on,” Kal pleads, eyeing the alcohol once more with a pout. His wings almost seem to droop. “One drop, I can handle one drop.”

Rolling my eyes, I push the glasses further away.

“Kal, you are a dragon. Your stomach was not made for alcohol. Now off to bed all of you. You need some rest, and I need some space,” I half groan, running my fingers through my mussy locks.

Gracefully, Ithuriel bows, dragging his feet across the floor towards the lady at the counter. A brief exchange of words occurs, along with a few sly looks from Kal, before she leads Ithuriel up a set of stairs and away into the dark. A breath that I hadn’t realised I was holding escapes my lips.

“I am going out for some air,” I announce, picking up the empty glasses between my fingers in preparation to take them to the counter. Hungrily, Kal’s eyes trace over Ithuriel’s untouched glass once more, his fingers twitching with longing at the sight of the dark alcohol before him. But before I can get to scolding him again, Fangorn slaps his hands down in a fatherly way, prizing the glass from the table to stow it away on the counter to be emptied and cleaned. No alcohol for Kal tonight.

To this he looks remarkably disappointed.

“If you need me I will be outside,” I inform Fangorn in a low whisper from the side of the mouth. At my exchange of words he says nothing, simply giving me a look of understanding as he trails back towards Kal to consul the booze deprived dragon.

I roll my eyes.

That little dragon practically feeds on drama.

***

The wash of cold air upon my face is something I didn’t suppose I would miss, and yet standing out here in the open, it is hard to imagine anything but it. For a moment, I let myself linger in the half gloom of the tavern light, swaying from shadow to shadow as I gaze out into the partially illuminated forest, pondering over matters that are yet to come.

There is no telling how tomorrow will go. For while I know Xavier, and Kagura too, there is no telling whether they would be willing to disclose the information of a soul- and their best friend- without being certain of its consequences. But if they do not, Azrael will surely have his men take them first, and he will not be so generous with his offerings as I am being. In fact, I am almost certain he wants that soul dead.

And once he has all of them under his wing, fully trusting and believing in him, he will come for the flame, and if he acquires that, it will be all over.

Sinking down against the bannister of the garden fence, I stare out blindly into the darkness.

“Where are you, Serena?” I whisper to no one in particular. “Are you safe?”

But as I expected, no answer comes.

For a long while, I stand out in the cool of the night, my arms pressed up against the fence, consumed with thoughts and worries that have been gnawing at my mind for days. If we are lucky, then Serena will be doing well, undiscovered, in Azrael’s palace. Perhaps she will already be weaving a web of deception and lies, and may have even stretched as far as to be able to find the soul- wherever they might be. The last I had checked, the soul of death was deep in the faeries Kingdom taking refuge in an old but wizened faery’s palace- Asocrates was his name. If the gods have favoured us, then Azrael would have spared his life, or perhaps he might have even been able to escape whatever curse Azrael has dispelled over the land. But in the depths of my heart, I know realistically that that is too great a hope to nurture. Azrael is not a creature who believes in the act of mercy, only blind suffering, and death.

Despite the lack of cold, a little shudder runs through me.

It is so infuriating to have Serena’s location so tantalisingly close. Just another days walk away and we would have made it to Azrael’s residence, perhaps even managed to fish her out of there and bring her back to the safety of her clan, and her people. Bring her back to a place where I can hold her once more without the fear of her slipping through my fingers. But such a decision would be detrimental.

As much as it pains me to admit it, we need Serena to do what she is doing now, else it would be impossible to deter Azrael from acquiring another soul. There would be no one in Serena’s place to ensure their safety. All it would take is one more soul on Azrael’s side and he would have enough to wipe the world of half its inhabitants in some form or another. With two souls under his belt, one of us, the other soul bearers, would be incapable of defending ourselves against his powers. We would be completely consumed by his power- so long as he knows how to wield it.

Of course, that is also imply he manages to get his hands on the eternal flame too, but it would not be to my favour to underestimate my brother another time. He has managed to go behind my back once, there is no telling whether or not he will do it again, but this time, it is not a decision I am willingly leaving up to chance.