There is an art to poison not often discussed, and that is timing. Only a master can properly dose and administer for effective onset. One must take into account the mass of the individual as well as the method of delivery.
-Effective Uses of Wild and Cultivated Herbs by Captain Lawrence Medina
"Damn it" The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by female voice in a cloak, stumbling in the waist-high grass growing between the river and the oaks I was crouched in.
Watching the cloaked figure move closer to my tree, I slowly slip quietly higher into the dense set of branches so they can't see me. I can hear her muttering, "One, two, three," before stopping under my oak tree and looking up.
"Violet?" I call out to her, "What the fuck are you doing out after curfew?"
She jumps two feet in the air looking around for me, "Aelin? Where are you?"
I carefully creep out from my hiding spot, just enough for her to see me, without moving to much so she wouldn't notice I had been hurt. Once she sees me, she slips her right arm out of the sling and starts to climb using the moonlight. Her face is obviously in pain, but it quickly fades as she continues up, just like every other time she has climbed this tree in our childhood after Nolon mended her. Hopefully tomorrow Nolon will let her out of the sling for good. I watch as the cloak she is wearing catches on most of the branches while climbing slowly and steadily.
"Shit!" Voilet calls out. I watch as her foot slips on the bark and my heart stutters for a heartbeat as she takes a moment to find her feet a better hold. Bark scrapes my back painfully as I move down to meet her at the poisonous berries.
"There you are." Violet comments as she digs her fingernails into the branch above us, while i keep her stable long enough for her to retrieve an empty vial and uncork it with her teeth. She then plucks just enough berries off the vine to fill the glass and shove the stopper back in.
"Are you talking about me or the berries, Vi?" I joke, knowing she didn't think she would see me again today.
"Oh hush up Aelin. What are you doing out here anyway?" Violet teases back.
"You know me, I just needed to get some time away from all the people who would kill me in my sleep if I gave them the chance," I shrug it off and stick out my tongue at her. "Did you only need the berries or are you collecting for the whole year, poisoner?"
Violet makes an uncomfortable, flushed face, "Well... I may have picked up some of the mushrooms down by the river and a few other things along the way..."
I shake my head at her, "Who do you plan on poisoning Vi?"
Violet starts to get uncomfortable and starts to slowly climb back down the tree without answering when I notice some movement and stop her. We move above the berries back into the thicker foliage as two new figures in black cloaks - clearly, I missed the memo about tonight's disguise choice - walk under the protection of the tree. The smaller one, with the limp, leans back against the lowest limb, removing her hood to reveal a half-shaven head of pink hair that we know all too well...
Imogen, the one who almost ripped Violets arm off earlier today. The one who's leg I broke after, that explains the limp at least.
My stomach tightens, then knots as the second rider slips off his own hood to show the most beautiful and deadly man, I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.
Xaden Riorson.
Oh shit.
There is maybe fifteen feet between us and nothing - and no one - out here to stop him from killing us. I look to Violet and see the fear in her eyes and notice the white knuckles she has from gripping the branch above us so hard.
They begin speaking, but I can't hear what they're saying, not with the river rushing by.
Violet's lungs fill with relief, "if we can't hear them, they can't hear us, either, as long as no one looks up."
Slowly, carefully, quietly, Violet starts to move out of the patchy moonlight to the next branch over, cloaking herself in shadows.
What is he doing out here with Imogen? Are they lovers? My breath catches a little at that internal question before moving on and pretending it never happened. Friends? It's absolutely none of my business, and yet I can't help but wonder if she is the kind of woman he goes for - one whose beauty is only outmatched by her brutality. They fucking deserve each other.
Xaden turns from the river, as though he's looking for someone, and sure enough, more riders arrive, gathering under the tree. They're all dressed in black cloaks as they shake hands. And they all have rebellion relics.
My eyes widen as I count. There are almost two dozen of them, a few third-years and a couple pf seconds, but the rest are all firsts. I know the rules. Marked ones can't gather in groups larger than three. They're committing a capital offense simply by being together. It's obviously a meeting of some sort, and I feel like a squirrel clinging to a tree as the dogs circle me from below, waiting for a slip up.
Their gathering could be completely harmless though. Maybe they're homesick, like when the cadets from the Morraine province all spend an hour after school at the nearby lake just because it reminds them of the ocean they miss so much.
Or maybe they are plotting to burn Basgiath to the ground and finish what the revolution started...
I can sit up here and ignore them, but my complacency - my fear - could get people killed if they're down there scheming. Telling is the right thing to do, but I can't even hear what they're saying.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Nausea churns in my stomach as I watch Violet make the first move. Keeping herself on the opposite side of the trunk and sticking to the shadows that wrap around her, she climbs down another branch with sloth-like speed, testing each branch with a fraction of her weight before lowering herself, completely ignoring me as I signal for her to stop and just sit still.
Fuck it. I follow right behind her, quicker, more surefooted, but in a lot more pain I can't show to anyone. Their voices are still muffled by the river, but I can hear the loudest of them, a tall, dark-haired man with pale skin, whose shoulders take up twice the space of any first-year, standing opposite Xaden's position and wearing the rank of a third-year.
"We've already lost Sutherland and Luperco," he says, but I can't make out the response.
It takes two more rungs of branches before their words are clear. My heart pounds like it's trying to escape my ribs. I'm close enough for any one of them to see if they look hard enough - well except Xaden, since his back is turned toward me.
"Like it or not, we're going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation," Imogen says.
"And if they find out we're meeting?" a first-year girl with an olive complexion asks, her eyes darting around the circle.
"We've done this for two years and they've never found out," Xaden responds, folding his arms and leaning back against the limb below my right. "They're not going to unless one of you tells. And if you tell, I'll know." The threat is obvious in his tone. "Like Garrick said, we've already lost two first-years to their own negligence. There are only forty-one of us in the Riders Quadrant, and we don't want to lose any of you, but we will if you don't help yourselves. The odds are always stacked against us, and trust me, every other Navarrian in the quadrant will look for reasons to call you a traitor or force you to fail."
There's a muttered assent, and my breath hitches at the intensity in his voice. Damn it, I don't want to find a single thing about Xaden Riorson admirable, and yet here he is, being all annoyingly admirable. Asshole.
Have to admit, it would be nice if a high-ranking rider from my province gave a shit if the rest of us from the province lived or died.
"How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?" Xaden asks.
Four hands shoot into the air, none of which belong to the spiky-blond-haired first-year standing with his arms crossed, a head taller than most others. Liam Mairi. He practically ran across the parapet and destroyed his opponent earlier in assessments, my squadmate and hopefully a real friend.
"Shit," Xaden swears, and I would give anything to see his expression as he lifts a hand to his face.
The big one - Garrick - sighs, "I'll teach them." I recognize him now. He's the Flame Section leader in Fourth Wing. Violets direct superior above Dain.
Xaden shakes his head. "You're our best fighter-"
"You're our best fighter," a second-year near Xaden counters with a quick grin. He's handsome, with tawny brown skin crowned by a cloud of black curls and a litany of patches on what I can see of his uniform under his cloak. His features are close enough to Xaden's that they might be related. Cousins, maybe? Fen Riorson had a sister, if I remember correctly. Shit, what was the guy's name? It's been years since I had to memorize the records, but I think it was Bodhi.
"Dirtiest fighter, maybe," Imogen snarks.
Most everyone laughs, and even the first-years crack a smile.
"Fucking ruthless is more like it," Garrick adds.
There's a general consensus of nods, including one from Liam.
"Garrick is our best fighter, but Imogen is right up there with him, and she's a hell of a lot more patient," Xaden notes, which is just ludicrous considering she didn't seem too patient while breaking Violet's arm. "So, the four of you split yourselves up between the two of them for training. A group of three won't draw any unwanted attention. What else is giving you trouble?"
"I can't do this," a gangly first-year says, rolling his shoulders inward and lifting his slim fingers to his face.
"What do you mean?" Xaden asks, his voice taking on a hard edge.
"I can't do this!" The smaller one shakes his head. "The death. The fighting. Any of it!" The pitch of his voice rises with every statement. "Sutherland had his neck snapped right in front of me today! I want to go home! Can you help me with that?"
Every head swings toward Xaden.
"No." Xaden shrugs. "You're not going to make it. Best accept it now and not take up more of my time."
It's all I can do to smother my gasp, and some of the others in the group don't bother trying. What. A. Dick.
The smaller guy looks stricken, and I can't help but feel bad for him.
"That was a little harsh, cousin," the second-year who looks a little like Xaden says, lifting his eyebrows.
"What do you want me to say, Bodhi?" Xaden cocks his head to the side, his voice calm and even. "I can't save everyone, especially not someone who isn't willing to work to save themselves."
"Damn, Xaden." Garrick rubs the bridge of his nose. "Way to give a pep talk."
"If they need a fucking pep talk, then we both know they're not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let's get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable." He turns his head, and I can only assume he's looking at the panicked first-year. "In war, people die. It's not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It's snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There's nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur. This" - he gestures back toward the citadel - "isn't some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It's hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home... to whatever's left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant." He leans forward slightly. "So, if you won't get your shit together and fight to live, then no. You're not going to make it."
Only crickets dare to break the silence.
"Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve," Xaden orders.
"Battle Brief," a first-year says softly. "It's not that I can't keep up, but the information..." She shrugs.
"That's a tough one," Imogen responds, turning to look at Xaden. Her profile in the moonlight is almost unrecognizable as the same person who shredded Violet's shoulder. That Imogen is cruel, vicious even. But the way she's looking at Xaden softens her eyes, her mouth, her whole posture as she tucks a short strand of pink hair behind her ear.
"You learn what they teach you," Xaden says to the first-year, his voice taking a hard edge. "Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to."
My brow furrows. What the hell does he mean by that? Battle Brief is one of the classes taught by scribes to keep the quadrant up-to-date on all nonclassified troop movements and battle lines. The only things we're asked to recite are recent events and general knowledge of what's going on near the front lines.
"Anyone else?" Xaden asks. "You'd better ask now. We don't have all night."
It hits me then - other than being gathered in a group of more than three, there's nothing wrong with what they're doing here. There's no plot, no coup, no danger. It's just a group of older riders counseling first-years from their province.
"When do you get to kill Violet Sorrengail?" a guy toward the back asks.
My blood turns to ice.
The murmur of assent among the group sends o jolt of terror down my spine.
"Yeah, Xaden," Imogen says sweetly, lifting her pale green eyes to him. "When do we get to finally have our revenge? Don't forget that little bitch Aelin Melgren too."
He turns just enough for me see his profile and the scar that crosses his face as he narrows his eyes at Imogen. "I told you already, they are mine, and I will handle them when the time is right."
He'll... handle us? My muscles thaw with the heat of indignation. I'm not some inconvenience to be handled. Not by him and not by my father. My short-lived admiration of Xaden is over.
"Didn't you already learn that lesson, Imogen?" Bodhi chides from halfway down the circle. "What I hear, Aetos has you scrubbing dinner dishes for the next month for using your powers on the mat."
Imogen's head snaps in his direction. "Her mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder."
"And if you tried to do more to Violet, I have a feeling Aelin would have done a lot worse to you than just breaking your knee. How's it feeling by the way?" Liam taunts her.
Imogen pushes off the branch and goes to attack him, when Xaden puts a hand on her shoulder and holds her in place.
"Her mom and Aelin's dad are responsible for the capture of all our parents," Garrick counters, folding his arms over his wide chest. "Not their daughters. Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish."
"So, we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college-" Imogen starts.
"In case you didn't notice, they're in the same death sentence of a college," Garrick retorts. "Seems like they're already suffering the same fate."
Am I seriously watching them debate over whether Violet and I should be punished for being children of Sorrengail and Melgren? The world's worst parents? Seriously?
"Don't forget Violet's brother was Brennan Sorrengail," Xaden adds. "She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her. Not to mention Aelin's mother died the same day our parents were caught." He pointedly looks at Imogen and the first-year who raised the question. "And I'm not going to tell you again. They are mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?"
Silence reigns.
"Good. Then get back to bed and go in threes." He motions with his head, and they slowly disperse, walking away in groups of threes just like he ordered. Xaden is the last to leave.
I draw a slow beath and look at Violet. Holy shit, we just might live through this.
We have to be sure they're gone. Violet and I stay unmoving, even when our thighs begin to cramp and fingers lock as we count to five hundred, mouthing the numbers to each other, breathing as evenly as possible to soften the beats of my galloping heart.
Only when I'm sure we are alone, when the squirrels scurry past on the ground, do I let Violet finish climbing from the tree, jumping the last four feet to the grassy floor, following shortly after. Zihnal must have a soft spot for us, because we are the luckiest women on the Continent-
A shadow lunges behind Violet and I open my mouth to scream, but my air supply is cut off by an elbow around my neck as I'm yanked against a hard chest.
"Scream and you die," he whispers, and moves his elbow from my throat, replacing it with the sharp bite of a dagger. "You make a move, and I'll spill your throat on the ground, Melgren."
I freeze. I'd recognize the rough pitch of Xaden's voice anywhere. "Why not just kill me right now, Xaden?"
Xaden's breathy laugh tickled her ear, distractedly. That's when I start to fight, throwing my back into his chest, hooking my foot behind his. Xaden stumbled, tripping over my leg, and I wedge my hand between my neck and his dagger just as he presses hard enough to break skin, but not slit just yet. Blood from my palm splatters down my shirt, but I shove all the pain aside and butt my elbow into his stomach. Xaden's breath whooshed out of him, and he doubled over, only to meet my knee slamming into his face.
Gasping sounds start behind me, but I refuse to take my eyes off of Xaden's smiling face. He straightens up slowly, still smirking, "New rule, no fighting me. Or Violet dies."
I turn just enough to see the shadow that lunged behind Violet is now wrapped around her neck. The gasps coming from her mouth as she tries to pull the shadow off of her throat so she can breathe.
"Okay. Okay. Okay. Just let her go! Please. No more fighting, no screaming. I swear Xaden." I beg him, panicking as Violet's face starts to slowly turn red.
Xaden just nods and the shadows fall away from Violet as I run up to catch her as she stumbles.
"Fucking Sorrengail and Melgren."
"How did you know?" Violet's tone is outright indignant, but whatever. If he's going to kill us, he would have done it already. "Let me guess, you could smell my perfume. Isn't that what always gives the heroine away in books?"
Xaden scoffs. "I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away."
Violet gasps. "Your signet is a shadow wielder?" No wonder he's risen so high in rank. Shadow wielders are incredibly rare and highly coveted in battle, able to disorient entire drifts of gryphons, if not take them down, depending upon the signet's strength.
"What, Aetos hasn't warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?"
His voice is like rough velvet along my skin, and I shiver.
"Is this how you plan to handle us?" Violet goads.
"Eavesdropping, were we?" He arches a black brow and sheathes his dagger. "Now I might actually have to kill you." There's an undertone of truth in those mocking eyes.
This is just... bullshit.
"Then go ahead and get it over with." Violet unsheathes two daggers, and back up a couple of feet to give her distance to throw them - if he doesn't rush her that is.
I roll my eyes and sit down against the tree trunk, the pain slowly rolling back in now that my fight or flight response has died down. This is Violet's rodeo now.
Xaden watches me sit down and notices the wince. I just nod at him.
He pointedly looks at one dagger, then the other, and sighs, folding his arms across his chest. "That stance is really the best defense you can muster? No wonder Imogen nearly ripped your arm off."
"I'm more dangerous than you think," Violet flat-out blusters.
"So I see. I'm quaking in my boots." The corner of his mouth rises into a mocking smirk.
"Can yall please hurry this up? It's been a long day, and I could use some sleep before kitchen duty." I ask sweetly, my head leaned back against the tree trunk, eyes closed, bored.
Violet flips the daggers in her hands, pinching them at the tips, then flicking her wrist and fires them past his head, one on each side. They land solidly in the trunk of the tree above my head.
"You missed." He doesn't even flinch.
"Did I?" Violet reaches for her last two blades. "Why don't you back up a couple of steps and test that theory?"
Every one of my senses is on high alert as he moves backward, his eyes locked on Violets as he steps between my legs until his back hits the tree trunk, and the hilts of the daggers brush his ears. I smile, eyes closing again once I see the daggers brush his ears, not noticing Xaden looking down at me, curiosity lighting up his eyes before quickly looking back at Violet with mocking indifference.
"Tell me again that I missed," Violet threatens, taking her last dagger by the tip.
"Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you're really a violent little thing, aren't you?" A smile curves his perfect lips as shadows dance around the tree near me, taking the form of fingers. They pluck the daggers from the tree and bring them slowly down to be placed in my lap.
My breath abandons me with a sharp exhale. He has the kind of power that could end me without him having to so much as lift a finger - shadow wielding. The futility of even trying to defend myself against him is laughable.
I hate how beautiful he is, how lethal his abilities make him as he strides toward Violet, shadows curling around his footsteps. He's like one of those poisonous flowers I've read about from the Cygnis forests to the east. His allure is a warning not to get too close, and I definitely want to get too close.
"You should show that little trick to Jack Barlowe," Xaden says.
"I'm sorry?"
He moves closer, and Violet lifts her blade.
"The neck-snapping first-year who's very publicly vowed to slaughter Aelin, and you by extent," Xaden clarifies as Violet's blade presses against his cloak. "He'd probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head."
This is... this is... bizarre. It has to be some kind of game meant to confuse her, right? And if so, he's playing it really fucking well.
"Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?" Violet challenges. "You wanted me dead long before your little club chose my tree to meet under, so I imagine you've all but buried me in your mind by now."
He glances at the dagger poised at his chest. "Do you plan on telling anyone about my little club?"
"No," Vi answers truthfully.
"Why not?" He tilts his head to the side. "It's illegal for the children of separatist officers to assemble in -"
"Groups larger than three. I'm well aware. I've lived at Basgiath longer than you." Violet lifts her chin.
"And you're not going to run off to Mommy, or your precious little Dain, and tell them we've been assembling?"
"You were helping them. I don't see why that should be punished. I'm not going to tell."
It wouldn't be fair to him or the others. Was their little meeting illegal? Absolutely. Should they die for it? Absolutely not. And that's exactly what will happen if we tell. Those first-years will be executed for nothing more than asking for tutoring, and the senior cadets will join them just because they helped.
Violet's hand stays steady.
"Interesting," he says softly. "We'll see if you keep your word, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor." Then he steps away, turns and heads for me. "Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you're out after curfew."
"What?" Violet gawks after him. "You're my wingleader!"
"Exactly. Now leave. I need to talk with Melgren here. You are not needed." Xander states while standing over my body.
"I won't leave without -"
"Vi, please go. I can handle his little interrogation. I promise I will see you in kitchen duty. If you don't leave I will never get to bed." I calm her and nod until she finally walks away. "Now, what did you want to ask me, Riorson?"
I stay calm, resting against the tree trunk, but eyes open to watch him.
"What made you think I had any questions for you, Melgren?" He smirks down at me.
"I am tired. If you have nothing you want to talk about then I will be going." I go to stand, struggling not to agitate my back more than I already have tonight.
Xaden grabs my arm once I'm standing to stop me from walking away, staring me in the eyes, like he can read my mind or something. I don't bother shaking him off. "Are you going to tell?"
"No." I don't even give myself a moments hesitation. Let him read the honesty in my eyes. "The law is stupid and even if it wasn't, I wouldn't endanger Liam like that. He is my friend. Anyway, how is this any different than me tutoring Rhiannon in History or Violet in combat?"
He looks at me in shock. "Why are you so protective of my people?"
"Not everyone in this kingdom is evil Xaden. Not everyone is like the General." I look him in the eyes. "My turn."
He just nods at me. "Think of it as the favor I owe you for not telling about my meeting."
"Why did you give me Violet's daggers?"
He smiles finally, "I wanted to see what kind of damage you could do with them while my back was turned."
"I taught Vi how to throw daggers myself, it was the one thing her mother didn't think she needed to learn before entering the quadrant. With how little body strength she has though, how tiny she is, I wanted to give her the best chance I could. Like you want to give your people their best chance at surviving this death school." I nod at him and go to walk back to the dorms.
"That's what you wanted your favor to be?" He calls out to me, taunting, trying to pull me into a fight.
I turn back and look at him while still walking away. "Don't hurt Violet. She has been through enough. Do what you have to do to handle me but leave Vi out of it." I shiver as we continue to hold eye contact until we can no longer see each other, and I turn back around to head to my bunk bed.