Page 14 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
I lifted my skirts and hurried after them, the bare skin of my arms puckering. Even in spring, frost still clung to Fenrir City with cold claws. The metropolis had been built into the base of Mount Shield in five massive steps, and the elevation paired with the icy fog that spilled down from the mountain’s snow-capped peak made the territory’s capital much colder than the southern towns clustered along the Wend.
And I’d foolishly left my cloak at our table back at the Charm.
My curiosity superseded the chill. As I neared the mouth of the side street, I slowed. Wooden crates and empty casks were piled off to one side, remnants of past nights at the nearby pubs. I crouched behind them, listening intently to the hushed voices that congregated midway down the alley.
A fifth figure had joined Phina, Mariana, and the two Mighty Knights. The newcomer was male, based on the height and build that filled out his slate-gray cloak. His hood and the shadows of the surrounding buildings obscured his face from the shard of moonlight that cut down onto thenarrow street. His size made him look like another knight, but without a closer look for an Oath tattoo, I couldn’t say for certain.
Notthat this was any of my business.
There were many reasons I ought not eavesdrop and risk getting caught: the possible wrath of highly skilled and vicious knights, the potential to lose my place at the Collegium for meddling in an esteemed adept’s affairs, the moral ambiguity of sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, to name a few.
But I couldn’t help myself.
Not when Mariana was here so soon after her visit to the Possum. Not when Phina was involved in some kind of alchemical research (possibly) involving the Well of Fate. Not when people I loved could be caught in the crosshairs.
Pure nosiness was also a factor. My aunt used to say that my insatiable curiosity was my greatest asset and my most calamitous weakness, and she was not wrong.
Crouched behind an old barrel, peering through the slats of a large crate resting beside it, my knees ached, and my toes went tingly from a lack of circulation—yet I leaned forward, straining to listen. Voices faded in and out with the interruptions of city noise and the undulations of whispered conversation.
“—didn’t expect you for another six months, at least,” Phina was saying.
“None of us did,” Mariana added.
“—the efficacy of the tincture—” A cold wind whispered through the alley, taking the rest of Phina’s sentence with it. “—symptoms have accelerated?”
The hooded figure nodded.
A sharp swear from Phina. “Any new symptoms?”
He shook his head.
She continued, but all I caught was the end of her next question, again aimed at the newcomer: “—progress in your studies?”
His voice was a landslide, rumbly and raspy in a way that was both familiar and foreign. “Inconclusive.”
My knees were beginning to throb. I shifted, boots grinding against the cobblestones. I tried to rub some heat back into my numb upper arms. I’d worn a short-sleeved dress to avoid overheating in the crowded Charm, but out here, my fingertips were beginning to numb. I really should’ve grabbed my cloak, but—
The Mighty Knight with the fancy swords took a step closer to the figure. The edge in his tone was unmistakable. “So, the experiment failed?” From my angle, I saw his palm brush the leather-wrapped hilt of a dagger strapped to his belt.
Mariana saw it, too. She rolled her eyes like he was the epitome of irritating. “Back the fuck off, Faren,” she said. “You have no authority in this matter.”
“I have more authority thanyou.”
They began talking over one another, arguing full force, with no apparent concern for their loudness. Faren held his arms out wide, looming; he had at least a foot of height and sixty pounds of muscle on Mariana, but she invaded his personal space, jabbing a finger against his gold-plated chest. To anyone else on the street, the shouting probably sounded like any other night outside the Ire.
While they bickered, the hooded figure raised a hand to his mouth and descended into a fit of coughing—no,convulsing. He doubled over, body shaking like he might vomit. The Mighty Knight with the longbow took a concerned step forward, but it was Phina who rested her hand on the newcomer’s shoulder, her delicate fingers gripping firmly.
“Look at him and tell me this isn’t a failure,” Faren shouted.
Mariana turned to Phina. “He needs Hylder.Quickly.”
“He needs more than Hylder,” Faren spat. “Heneeds—”
A blur of silver flashed white in the moonlight. Bodies collided—a lunge and a block. A gasp gusted out of me, unnoticed in the sudden melee, the clash of knights and steel. Then Faren’s back hit the street. Mariana’s boot pressed firmly against the base of his neck and her sword angled against the underside of his chin.
“Isaid, back the fuck off,” she snarled.
Mere feet away, the second Mighty Knight aimed an arrow directly at Mariana, but she was unafraid. Whatever Order she belonged to, she did not fear the Mighty as most did. Threatening as she was, I couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. Her self-sufficiency. Her lack of fear.
