Page 43 of Dishonor Among Thieves
I stood still in place, my feet reacting to the shock and shame that flooded my system. I’d not meant to manipulate him… I’d simply misread him, misread the lighter feelings between us. I’d only thought the closeness we were sharing meant something. But his abrupt dismissal set my mind to rights. We were man and wife by contract. We might play the happy couple in the village, but there was no joy in this union for Neo. I’d been a fool to indulge myself in thinking otherwise. I swallowed hot tears and ducked my head deeper into my hood. He’d hurt me, embarrassed me, but I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how sharply his abrupt turn of mood stung.
I held my chin high, trying to suppress the feelings that felt so raw, I was certain everyone in Omrora could see them. I felt hollow inside, like a tally stick that had been carved with a debt but which in and of itself held no value to anyone. With the hand he’d refused, I grabbed the charm around my neck. For once, the token didn’t soothe me.
* * *
We rode backto the manor in painful silence. Neo kept pace ahead of me, never looking back to ensure Sara and I followed. Maybe at points he did check on me, but if he did, I would not have seen. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—look at him. I tried to understand his reaction to me, the lack of trust, the feeling that I’d attempted to manipulate him. He did mention my beauty, which truly came as a shock to me. But if he did find me beautiful, how would I—a foundling, a thief—know that?
Even if I did have the knowledge, using it to my advantage simply wasn’t possible. I wouldn’t know how to do that even if I had the inclination. My whole life I’d been able to think or talk my way through difficult situations. Charm? Seduction? Laughable concepts. And certainly nothing I’d ever used to my advantage. I’d have more skill with my brand-new throwing knives than any feminine vitality I may have had.
After just a few short days basking in the warmth of belonging, tentative and new as it was, I felt as out of place and unwanted as I had on the worst day at the foundling home. The still-darkening sky matched my gloomy mood.
A smattering of raindrops teased my cheeks as we neared the manor, but breaking through my indulgent grief was the same man who’d caused it.
“By the gods, what now?” Neo held up a hand to alert me and drew Sedda to a stop. He turned, his face a radiant mask of rage, cursing under his breath. “Brexia, stay here.”
I had no time to respond. I saw what he must have seen, and the melancholy in my heart transformed into soul-clenching fear. The front gate of the manor was not only open, but it had been torn from its hinge. The iron rested at an impossible angle, half on the ground, half of its bent metal sticking haphazardly in the air.
Neo tossed Sedda’s reins to me and took off for the manor, drawing his short sword as he ran. I leapt from Sara’s back, my hands shaking so hard I could hardly knot the reins of the horses. They’d be safer secured here, farther away from whatever was happening at the manor. I reached for my new leg harness and tightened my fingers around the wide ring of one of my throwing knives. I pulled it from its fitting and raced up the path after Neo.
He was frozen on the wide stone steps on the manor, his short sword drawn. With the heavy cloud cover and no sun to illuminate the pretty angles of the plant, the Dragon’s Blood Sedum coated the grounds, it red color dull and ominous as dried blood. My lips trembled and I whispered a prayer to the gods as the rain began to fall in angry, violent sheets. Neo shook his head, his drenched hair scattering raindrops and soaking through the padded armor he wore beneath his cloak. He met my eyes only briefly before pointing at the front door. That, too, hung wide open, like a mouth frozen open in mid-scream. The door didn’t appear damaged, though. Whatever was inside had been let in.
My stomach lurched as I pictured Antonia, surprised not by some ailing visitor, but a wicked presence. My heart sank for vulnerable Elgit and the rest of the household, helplessly at the mercy of some dark power. I lowered my face and strained my ears for any sound, any clues, but there were no cries, no sounds of violence. Nothing to hint at what had happened or was still happening.
Neo bent his knees and with silent steps approached the eerily open door. I followed, sweat collecting at my hairline as I swallowed against the dryness in my mouth. I felt something, sensed it, perhaps. Magic. Someone or something magic was definitely inside. A sudden feeling of dizziness almost knocked me from my feet, but then I heard it—the screams—and every bit of vitality in my body surged forward. I followed Neo into the manor and raced to Antonia, collapsed outside the sitting room on the floor, a small trickle of blood seeping from a gash in her forehead. Her eyes were closed and she breathed heavily, but thankfully, she was alive. Dale was at the opposite end of the hall, his body angled awkwardly on the stairs as if he’d been thrown or blown by a powerful force. Neo’s body went rigid, and his eyes glowed brilliant crimson as he took them in.
“Check them,” he whispered, just as another scream pierced the air.
I ran toward Dale as fast as I could. He gurgled a sound, a few droplets of blood staining the stone steps behind his head.
“Dale,” I whispered, holding his dry, wrinkled hand. “It’s Brex. Can you hear me?”
He fluttered his eyes open and panted. “Lady,” he sighed. I didn’t know if he was addressing me or asking after a lady, telling me a lady was here, but I didn’t want to tire him further with talking.
“Shhh,” I urged. “Be still. Don’t move. I’ll be back for you. Don’t move, please. Stay right here.”
“Magic,” he whispered, holding a violently shaking hand out to me.
“I know,” I said, taking his hand and gently setting it on his chest. “I’ll be back. Everything is going to be okay.”
His heavy breathing was steady and clear, so I ran to Antonia. She was conscious, blinking, and fighting to get up the moment she saw me.
“Please don’t move,” I begged her. Inside the sitting room, I heard more screams, and I squeezed her hand. “I have to help. I’ll be back. Don’t move.”
A thunderclap overhead and the heavy pounding of rain on the roof momentarily muffled the cries coming from the sitting room, but then we heard it. Heard her.
“Stop! By the gods, stop!” Odile screamed. “Please, let her go!”
Neo lifted a boot and, without uttering a sound, kicked the sitting room door. It wasn’t locked, and the wood gave an audible crack as it slammed open with such force it hit the wall and splintered.
I ran mindlessly, one throwing knife gripped in my fingers. I had no idea how to throw them, but I’d stab anything or anyone hurting this family. I’d use my bare hands if I had to. But nothing could have prepared me for the scene before me.
Inside the sitting room, the fire had gone out. A vile chill raised the hair on my arms, and the sounds of rain crashing against the roof made the dark room feel all the more menacing. The furniture was overturned, pillows torn open, ribbons of shredded fabric and stuffing littering the floor. The only part of the room that was intact was the settee where Elgit slept. Odile was with him, covering his small form with hers and weeping, her thin fingers gripping the settee as she tried to protect the goblin without any regard for herself. The relief I felt that he was still alive was shattered by what I saw next.
Gia was the one screaming, a nightmarish cry of pain and fear, but I could not see what tormented her. Nothing held her captive, yet she held her arms out where she stood against a wall, motionless and rigid as if she were bound there. But she was not. She was free but couldn’t seem to move and howled as if tortured by something only she could see. Rain was similarly trapped, limbs splayed against the wall, his powerful arms fixed in place. Unlike Gia, Rain was silent, his mouth open. His red eyes and elongated fangs were frozen, transfixed. His suffering appeared no less great than Gia’s, as silent tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.
Neo was spinning like a funnel cloud through the room, slashing and stabbing his sword at nothing and everything at once, his massive arms slicing through the air.
“It’s an illusionist!” Neo screamed. “Run, Brex! Get to safety!”
