Page 12 of Null & Void

I replay that moment in my head over and over all day, cringing internally every time. I can never speak to him again, it’s the only solution.

Crossing the Osraed gate onto the Nemoris bridge proves to be more of an issue than when I’m alone. Details must be checked for all four of us to confirm we have permissions on record to enter Nemoris and exit Osraed. I cannot pass through here again without explicit written approval from Queen Neoniri Ofnemoris.

I never had an issue with my sanctioned movements when traveling for assassinations. I was barely asked any questions as a Patron then. This time, fellow Patrons—fellow Nulls—treat me like a prized horse being taken to her new owners.

One of the jobs assigned to Nulls is peacekeeping. Stationed at all the gates in and out of Osraed, Peacekeepers report anything that doesn’t align. They’re also the people who come after you if you defect, usually with a Gifted captain who can force you in some way if needed.

The bridge into Nemoris is enormous. I’m in awe every single time I cross it, which has been only a couple of times, and not recently. Made entirely of wood from the Nemoris elomak tree. It would fit four large horse carriages side by side in width and takes us ten minutes to walk from one end to the other on our horses. Large elomak branches have been used as decoration on the sides. Intricate patterns and designs in the sand-colored wood with a burgundy red grain, spanning the entire length of the bridge.

The horses are able to travel much faster after crossing the bridge, galloping at a breakneck speed and requiring a good rub down in the evenings. Like our travels along the busy roads in Osraed, we don’t bother to set a watch here on the well-traveled roads directly into Nemoris. With the horses tethered nearby, they would let Beans know if something was amiss, or so I’m told.

I muse on what his Gift could be. Perhaps the ability to communicate with animals, or horses specifically. It would explain why he barely ever holds Ditch’s reins. That is a Gift I would’ve liked to have been blessed with. Or shifting into a horse to run free with them. I’ve only ever heard of a handful of Patron’s being able to shift their entire being, and every single one has been a various breed of horse. There hasn’t been one in years though, and there are none currently living.

I’ve realized the reason for Riley’s dark circles and bad moods every morning. He’s been drinking himself into oblivion every night. Last night, I watched him stumble into a tree, land on the ground with a grunt, and lay there unmoving for a long time. I looked at the others, but besides an eye roll from Beans and Tovi muttering “drunken wanker” under her breath, they didn't seem to care.

Applemint is still as cheeky as ever. She pinched my bum, again, because I dared to leave it within striking distance. I discovered she could undo her tether at will when I found her shaking one of my bags upside-down, emptying its contents. The other three were not surprised. If I’m not careful, she still dances away from me until I give her an applemint.

One evening, while waiting for water to boil for dinner, I ask, “Where does the name Beans come from?”

“Come on, Daddy Beans. Show us your beans,” Tovi purrs, then pokes out her tongue through her teeth at him.

Riley casually puts his arm around my shoulders, and I stiffen at the unexpected touch. Trying not to notice the heat, or the muscles, or the smell of him, I fail and notice it all. While looking at Beans, he loudly whispers to me, “So, Beans’ Gift is that his beans are so…”

He ducks behind me, using me as a shield and yelling his surrender, as Beans throws small projectiles at him, and one hits me in the shoulder. I look down, and amongst the leaf litter are a bunch of pale green…beans. I pick one up and confirm that it is, in fact, a fresh bean. We have no beans. Beanstalks do not grow here. I’m still staring at it when I hear Tovi pissing herself laughing.

“Children,” Beans growls, and I look up to see him glaring at the other two, though a smile is tugging at the corner of his lips.

He waves me over to where he’s kneeling beside a tall weed growing in the large wells of a tree’s roots. On the weed, are a couple of bean pods that shouldn’t be there. I laugh uncomfortably, throwing a questioning look at him. He gently grabs the stalk of a different weed, staring at it intently. To my complete and total fascination, three bean pods rapidly grow from the weed.

He pulls one off and hands it to me. I break it open and find six, small, ripe beans inside.

“Can you do this to anything?”

“It’s not easy through bark, but any vegetation still rooted to the Divine earth will grow my beans,” he confirms, shooting a side-eye at Tovi’s snicker. “Except grass for some reason,” he complains.

Beans grows a heap of beans for me to cook with and I try not to burst into laughter the entire night whenever I think about it. Even as I drift off to sleep, the thought that the commander of the Nemoris army—their Gifted commander—is able to grow beans, is about one of the funniest things I have ever heard.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Our walk to the training ground takes longer than it should, as though she’s been walking in circles all day. Perhaps today is the day we never arrive; the day it finally changes.

Pasha.

The sight of him transforms me into a beast barely contained. All claws and fangs. Fire and flames. Rage and ruin.

But I’m frozen solid in this prison.

“Where is everyone, I thought it’d be a group?” she asks the weapons master when we arrive for lessons a few minutes late.

“Just us. Gave everyone the morning off as I knew it’d be your first day since…you know.” Pasha makes a weird gesture toward our lower half.

“Right. Okay then,” comes the sarcastic reply.

Immediately, I try to make her apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but our mouth and body don’t respond.

She cannot hear me. She never can.

“I’m not in the mood for your attitude today, Mika,” he spits.

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