Page 73 of Stormvein
The north wall has collapsed entirely, stone scattered across what was once a training yard. Fighters practiced here, honing skills that couldn’t save them when the Authority finally decided to eliminate this particular thorn in their side. All gone now, reduced to rubble and faded memory.
I pick my way through what was once the great hall, now open to the sky where the roof has fallen in. Rain and snow have warped what little remains of the wooden furnishings. Except in one corner, where a stone table stands, miraculously intact, where maps were once spread and missions planned. My fingers trace the edge, feeling the grooves from knives marking targets, routes, and strike points.
Veinwardens died defending this place. Not people I knew well, but brothers and sisters in the same fight. They deserve to be remembered, not have their names fade from memory.
The main courtyard opens before me, its flagstones cracked and uneven. Weeds push through the gaps, nature slowly reclaiming what men abandoned. The remains of a small fountain sit at the center, its basin filled with leaves and debris.
I keep walking until I find myself at the western lookout point, a natural rock formation that provides clear views across the valley. From here, sentries could spot approaching soldiers hours before they reached the stronghold. I scan instinctively for movement in the shadows below, plotting escape routes, defensive positions, vulnerabilities.
Calling out my raven, I watch as it launches itself from my chest and into the night sky. It whirls and dips, stretching its wings, reveling in its release.
Lifting my hand, I let shadows dance across my fingers. Occasionally, silver threads flicker to life inside them, beforedisappearing. The power inside me has changed. It’s stronger now, more concentrated. And not just because of the ring.
My shadows respond almost before I decide what I need, more potent than they were before my capture. The silver storm that flowed through Ellie into me didn’t just heal my body, it refined what was already there, distilled and purified it. Part of her lives in me now.
Footsteps approach me from behind, light and cautious. I don’t need to turn to know who it is.
“You should be asleep,” I say without turning.
She stops several paces behind me. “So should you. Instead of out here doing … whatever it is you’re doing.”
It’s interesting how she dares to question my actions when no one else does. She always has, from the moment she stepped into my tower. I turn to face her, acutely aware of the subtle shift in my breathing, a loosening in my chest that happens only in her presence.
The silver light that is a constant part of her now is visible under the moonlight, casting an ethereal glow over her skin. Something about seeing her like this, illuminated from within, creates an unexpected ache of appreciation.
When my gaze lifts to her face, it’s to find her expression guarded, wary. More than it was when she first arrived here. The distance in her eyes stings more than it should, and I find myself wanting to bridge that gap, to return to the fragile trust we’d built before she saw what I’m truly capable of.
“I need less sleep now.”
“Another side effect?”
One corner of my mouth tips up. “No. I didn’t sleep much before my imprisonment in the tower. Vigilance becomes a habit when you spend most of your life being hunted.”
She moves closer, stopping close to the edge of the broken wall. The mist stalker follows, like a silent guardian.
“How well do you know this place?”
“I passed through once or twice during the early years when the Authority first began their rise to power.” I scan the valley below out of habit. “But the people here died fighting the Authority while I was trapped inside the tower. That makes it worth remembering.”
She follows my gaze, watching as my raven spins and loops in the night sky. The silence between us stretches, not uncomfortable, almost like it’s waiting.
“I keep thinking about home.” She doesn’t look at me. “If anyone back in Chicago is looking for me. If time even passes the same way there.” Her tongue comes out to sweep over her lips. “It’s strange how much my life there feels like a dream now.”
“I promised to find a way to return you home. Do you still wish to go?” I’m not certain I want to hear her answer.
Her lashes lower, hiding her eyes. “I don’t know anymore. I thought I did.” She sighs. “It’s complicated.”
“Because of the power that’s awakened in you?”
“Partly.” She doesn’t elaborate further. Instead, she takes in a deep breath, then turns to face me. “What happened today …” Her voice is soft. “Those soldiers?—”
“Would have killed us without hesitation if they’d found us.”
“You didn’t even give them a chance to surrender.”
“To what end?” I study her face, the conflict clearly written across it. “There are thirteen fighters with us, exhausted after days of limited supplies and trying to keep me alive. If a single one of those soldiers escaped, they would have reported our position immediately. Within hours, we would have faced a force not even I could have kept away.”
Her lips press together, but she doesn’t look away. “But you didn’t kill them out of necessity, Sacha. You killed them because you wanted to.”
