Page 117 of He Who Ignites The Flame
47
MICAH
Metal clanged across the training yard of The Outpost, the sound mixed with Thalia’s grunts as she blocked the downward stroke of a trainee’s training dagger, catching the wooden blade with her own. She hadn’t spoken a word of what had occurred last night, and I wondered if she planned to simply pretend it never happened.
Barrett hadn’t shown up to training.
And while the two of them seemed to avoid addressing it, I lingered on the edge of the urge to smash my fist into his face the next time I saw him for how he’d thrown Thalia’s feelings back in her face. Sadly, though, that was classic Barrett. Even after hundreds of years of friendship, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully let us in. He’d lost his sister, and just as he had started to let his walls down, he lost Lucia. Despite neither being his fault, he still seemed to bear the weight of their passing, shouldering the blame and guilt of his helplessness.
Thalia had never liked Barrett’s involvement with The Underworld, though she’d never voiced it to Damien. Regardless of how she felt, I didn’twant her to get involved in the dealings of that wretched place. Barrett was right to keep her away from that mess, safe from any backlash he may face if he was ever exposed.
Thalia was strong enough to hold her own, though, and he was so hellbent on protecting her that he couldn’t seem to see it.
How could I get him to see past his own bullshit?
“Micah.”
My head shot up at the sound of Barrett’s voice from the nearby forest. I twisted to find him hidden amidst the trees before glancing back to see if Thalia had seen him. Her back was turned, her focus locked on the recruit she was currently fighting. I grimaced when she hooked his ankle with her foot and yanked it out from under him, sending him onto his back.
These recruits couldn’t seem to get a break from her wrath. If she and Barrett didn’t get past this, we might not have any recruits survive to their vows.
I rose and quickly slipped away into the trees.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I hissed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as I slammed him up against a tree, resisting the urge to do what I’d been contemplating all morning.
He grunted as his back met bark, but he didn’t resist. “I don’t have time.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you’ve got time or not,” I growled as I leaned into him, teeth bared. “You need to apologize to her.”
“I will, but I’ve got important shit to see to first,” he said, a silent plea lighting his eyes before they slipped to where Thalia was training.
I frowned.
“I’m leaving for the Godsrealm,” he said, and my grip slackened. His shoulders slumped as he sagged against the tree, and he pulled a pack of rolled Brierleaf from his pocket, the sweet scent immediately hitting my nose.
“When?”
He glanced nervously in Thalia’s direction as he put one of the rolls to his lips and lit it. “In less than an hour, but I had to see you first.”
“It better involve an explanation of what the fuck happened last night,” I said, stepping back to give him room as I crossed my arms over my chest.
He drew a heavy hit before letting the smoke slip free of his lips. “Damien has me investigating a string of murders, and now Atlas wants the murderer found as well. The shit’s gotten so out of hand now that I’m under Atlas’ command and watch, and I’ve been working overtime trying to get any answers I can.”
Memories resurfaced of the night before, the look of terror on the human’s face, the blond Nous user and the bewitched humans who had spoken the old language like it was their own.
“You think the Nous user is responsible for all of them?”
He nodded. “The girl fit the description.”
“Description?”
“All of the victims are female humans with brown hair and hazel eyes between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three, every one of them.”
“How many are we talking?”
“Known? Seventeen. Last night’s victim would have been number eighteen.”
“Gods,” I breathed.
