Son of Night and Daughter of Stars

Chapter 34: The Found

"Hey, Princess. Wake up." Estelle flinched and jerked upward, blinking rapidly as she pulled herself from sleep. Nyx smirked at her from across the table. 

"Yeah, I know, I'm bored too," He said, flipping the page of the book he'd been reading. Estelle rubbed her eyes, groaning as she slid her hands down her face. 

"Sorry," She muttered. "I didn't sleep well last night." 

"Nightmares?" There was no judgment in the question. If anything, Nyx looked grim, as if he knew just how bad her nightmares sometimes were. She hesitated, but nodded. From the shadows under his eyes, she guessed he was probably hounded by demons during the night as well. 

For the past week, she and Nyx had spent nearly all of their time together. Since their strained truce at the party, they'd settled into a sort of rhythm. In the mornings, they met for breakfast to share what they each had learned. After that, they spent as much time as possible searching for answers. Sometimes she worked alone, but most times he joined her. She'd found she got more done when they could bounce ideas off each other, though any logical ideas she had were usually de-railed by his somewhat pessimistic views. It had been Nyx's idea to go back to the library, though he hadn't found anything useful the first time. 

This time, however, he did. Now that they had an idea of what kind of magic had been used to seal the Wyrdgates, they knew what to research to reverse it. So they had divided their time between researching the gates, and finding Estelle's shadow assassin. 

She'd --very, very hesitantly-- allowed Nyx into her mind to see her memory of the attack. He'd promised not to look anywhere else, but it had still been an unsettling feeling for Estelle. But he'd confirmed what she'd feared: The person who attacked her mother and the person who sent him here were one and the same. Now, they just had to figure out how the two events were connected. 

Estelle glanced down at the book she'd been examining, a tome titled The Walking Dead. She had no idea where it had come from, but she hated the thing. Its contents were vile, and though it contained scores of knowledge about Wyrdmarks and their magic, it didn't offer any help on how to break whatever spell her mother had cast eighteen years ago. 

She slammed the cover closed. "This is pointless. It could be weeks before we find anything useful." She dared a glance at Nyx, who met her stare with equal impatience. 

"Well, it's not like there are many people we can go to for help," He said, closing his book as well. "Did you tell the Queen of our--" He paused, searching for the right word. 

"Search? No, I haven't," Estelle said when he was silent for too long. "She'd just try to tell me that 'I know everything I need to, and I don't need to worry.'" She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Like she always does." 

Nyx grunted his agreement. "My mother does that too, although less since I came of age. I suppose she realized if I was going to be the next High Lord, I needed to know how to deal with certain things." 

Estelle cocked her head. "How old are you?" 

Nyx cast his eyes skyward as if he was trying to recall. "Well, it depends on if my birthday has passed while I've been away, since I honestly don't know how the time differentiates between our worlds." 

"I doubt it has," Estelle said, leaning forward to rest her chin in her hands. "My birthday isn't for months. So I doubt yours has somehow happened. I don't think the times differentiate that much." 

A hint of a smile from the Illyrian. "Then roughly twenty-three, Princess. You?" 

Estelle couldn't help but smirk. "Nineteen. Funny, I could have sworn you were no more than twelve. You have the maturity of a boy not yet grown."