A/N: Yay for more action! I'm going to try to update this more often, considering it's going at once a month now... Happy new year, by the way!
Taz found his servant, unsurprisingly, at the food table, straightening his white tie as he peered over an icing-coated pastry. He had donned a striking scarlet mask, but still easily stuck out from the crowd. He plucked a cake from a platter with long fingers and nibbled on it before catching Taz’s eye. Taz noticed with a sinking heart that Kyran looked extremely pleased with himself and rather mischievous, much like the cat that had just swallowed the canary. “What did you do?” he asked warily and Kyran just looked up before giving him a soft, almost sweet smile. Taz involuntarily took a step back.
Sweet smiles were very un-Kyran-like smiles.
Suddenly, Taz noticed something. On Kyran’s jawbone, there was a smudge of red. He narrowed his eyes and Kyran raised his eyebrows innocently, which was sort of ruined by the monstrous bite he ripped out of the cake a moment later. Taz pointed to his jaw. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.
Kyran curiously rubbed the speck of red off his jawbone. His smile froze in place. His head slowly lifted. “It’s blood, isn’t it?” Taz hissed.
Kyran’s lip slowly twitched into an involuntary smile, his automatic reaction to anything he didn’t like. Then he melted back into the crowd, leaving his half-eaten pasty on the table.
***
I honestly didn’t know why I lost my senses. It was just a kiss, for god’s sakes. The boy probably thinks I’m just a terrible person now. But, still, it was my first kiss, and I had no idea who this person was. So, I was stuck outside, leaning against the wall in my over-the-top mask and dress, taking deep breaths. I turned, and then jumped back with a yelp. Two curious brown eyes were inches away from my face. “Kyran. Give me some space,” I gasped, putting a hand over my heart. He had finally put on a scarlet mask, but there was no mistaking the white hair and clothing.
He still stared at me curiously. He produced his notebook from his sleeve and managed to somehow pull a pen out of his tie before scribbling something down.
Is there a reason why you’re outside, leaning on a wall, and looking like you’re ready to pass out?
I laughed lowly to myself. “Just… taken by surprise, is all.”
Kyran didn’t press it; thank his murderous heart. He just held out his hand for me and I took it, letting out a deep breath. His hand was freezing, but still, it was reassuring. I involuntarily squeezed it and he quirked one eyebrow at me, leading me inside, his shoes clicking on the cobblestones. He opened the door for me politely and then led me through the crowds and throngs of people who swayed in time with the slow music. We finally reached the food table, and Taz was waiting there and looking like he wanted to kill someone, and with the glare he was sending our way, preferably Kyran. Kyran abruptly let go of my hand and glanced at me before nodding at Taz.
I smirked. “Don’t want to get yelled at for whatever you did?” I teased lightly and he pouted for a moment before vanishing like smoke into the crowd, easily swallowed up by the dancing and music.
I felt Taz’s hands grip my shoulders and I glanced up at him. He was staring into the crowd, probably looking for a flash of white hair or the glimmer of a scarlet mask. “What’d he do?” I asked him curiously, and he shook his head as if trying to shake off the anger.
“Nothing important,” he mumbled, his mouth twisting into a frown. Then he glanced back at me before grinning. He gave me a mock bow, holding out his hand for me to take. “Miss Vivien, may I have this dance?” he asked politely, although his eyes were glimmering with laughter.
I rolled my eyes and rested my palm in his. “You may,” I said in that same polite tone and he gave a quiet laugh before spinning me away onto the dance floor. Taz’s dancing was nothing like the man in the checkered mask’s. Maybe it was because the song was slower, or because I had a better grip of my dancing skills, or because I actually knew the man behind the mask this time. But Taz easily swung me out to the side when the time came, and pulled me back in just as easily. There was no mischief or wicked delight in his eyes, he just seemed… happy. So I sat back and let myself enjoy this small, quiet time without Adriana (who had been left back at the inn; I did not want to carry her around), without the sorcerers, or without the fear of being jumped by Hunters or possessed pirates or anything of the sort.
I don’t remember when I had closed my eyes, but I only opened them when the song ended and Taz slowly let his hand drop from my hand and waist. I slowly smiled at him and he sheepishly smiled back.
It would’ve been perfect if Kyran hadn’t crashed into me at that precise moment. “Kyran, you imbecile, get off of-”
His eyes were wild and his hands were shaking as he grabbed Taz’s shoulders. It took a few seconds, but Taz nodded slowly before grabbing my hand. “We have to go,” he said urgently, already pulling me through the crowd.
“What? Why?” I asked him frantically, but Kyran had grabbed my other hand and was hauling me in a different direction, away from the door. He was shoving people aside, ignoring their complaints and cries, pushing through the crowd as Taz followed us. He pushed us towards the back of the town hall, where a large staircase ascended to a dark second floor. A man in a dark uniform was positioned at the bottom, looking stony and grim, as if he’d rather be dancing than standing there. “That’s off-limits, Kyran-”
Kyran let go of us before launching himself forward on light feet and grabbing the man around the throat. With no time to respond, he toppled backwards, desperately trying to pull the crazed shapeshifter off of him. A few people were looking now, their hands over their mouths but doing nothing to help. Finally the man went limp in Kyran’s grasp and he quickly scurried back to Taz and I before dragging us both up the stairs.
We were about halfway up when suddenly the doors to the hall blew open, hitting the walls with an echoing bang. The dancers halted in mid-step and there was a screeching sound as the man on the violin accidently slid his bow the wrong way. The whole room seemed to stay quiet for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, before two men seemed to fade onto the front step of the town hall, waltzing through the doorway. Both of them were dressed entirely in black, with white coats and what looked like fancy dress shoes. One of them had black, long hair that was tied up and an angular face. He was tall, around six feet and looked to be about in his mid-forties. The other was shorter and had hunched shoulders, with wisps of blond hair floating about his face. He looked only a little older than us and he had pale, pale skin to rival Kyran’s chalky complexion.
Both of them had scarlet eyes.
Sorcerers.
The thought sickened me. I couldn’t even think of kicking a cat, and here was this young sorcerer, killing people.
Then Kyran was dragging us to the wall, pushing us both to the floor, Taz complaining quietly. My heart was pounding. He darted over to the edge of the staircase and peered back over the ledge. His hands were trembling, I noticed, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was terrified or worried or was trying to prevent himself from tearing their throats out. “Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt this lovely banquet,” I heard one of the voices drone in a pleasant tone made of sweet syrup. “But we’ve heard rumors, disturbing rumors, that Captain Adriana had returned from the dead,” the voice drawled, and there was a collective gasp from the crowd.
My heart turned to ice and I stiffly turned my head to stare at Taz, who had gone a pale white. We’re going to die. The thought entered my head unbidden, and I was vaguely aware that I was shaking. They’re going to catch us, and we’re going to die. Kyran’s hands had stopped trembling and now he was poised, unnaturally still, at the ledge to the stairs like a stone statue, unblinking, unmoving. “Fortunately, through the, ahem, help of someone in this town, we have uncovered the identities of the crooks who have used black magic to raise her from the grave,” another voice chimed in, more willowy and soft and higher-pitched than the other.
Taz, despite the situation, snorted. “Exaggeration,” he huffed quietly and Kyran turned stiffly to give him a glare of death, and he fell quiet.
There was a quiet rustling before the first syrupy voice began to speak again. “We are looking for a Vivien Diaz, Taz Barkier, and…” the voice trailed off. “Kyran.” The voice sounded quizzical, as if the name was a puzzle. There was no last name attached the end of the shapeshifter’s name; yet another mystery left to solve about him.
The crowd murmured to themselves, quick whispers of, “I’ve never heard of them,” and “They must be dangerous to raise the dead.” Snatches of conversation floated through the air and to my ears, but luckily I never heard someone say, “I thought I saw the Barkier heir here a few moments ago,” or, “Why is that guard unconscious?”
Of course, no one would know my face and it was unlikely that, as odd as Kyran was, they’d be able to pluck a servant of the Barkier household from the crowd. As long as they didn’t come up the staircase, we’d be okay. “Has anyone seen these people? Have you heard their names? We received information that they’d be here, at the masquerade ball tonight.” the voice called out again.
No one moved. Everyone stayed quiet. There were no more bits of conversation, not even a passing whisper to a neighbor. “No?” the willowy voice asked, somehow timid quiet but still, it echoed around the room as if they had yelled. “That’s disappointing,” the voice sighed again, sounding genuinely upset.
There was a brief moment of silence before someone clapped. “Well, I’m sorry to have interrupted the festivities. Let the party resume.” Then the room exploded with music again and I could see one of the musicians around the corner of the stage, staring in awe as his guitar strummed itself, making a swinging, almost jazz-like melody. I gulped. Then there was the audible shutting of the door, not with nearly as much drama or panic when it had opened, and then, slowly, the party began again. It was distinctly less lively than before; more people were sitting aside, less were dancing and the musicians, after regaining control of their instruments, played softer music, as if deep in thought and not paying much attention to the tune they were creating.
Slowly, very slowly, both Taz and I rose to our feet in silence. Kyran turned quickly and stared at the both of us in concern. I offered him a weak smile and Taz frowned. “Who told the sorcerers about Adriana?” he asked quietly to no one in particular. The silence hung in the air, thick enough to be cut with a knife, before Kyran held up one hand, the palm facing us.
Written in neat print, unlike Kyran’s normal scribble, was the word Noire. Taz swore under his breath. “That pirate,” he sneered, his lip curling upwards into a snarl.
Kyran shook his head, looking extremely upset. He quickly fished out his notepad and pen from one of his many invisible pockets again and scrawled something down. He held it up. Don’t hold it against him, it read, and both Taz and I gave him skeptical and confused glances, but Kyran didn’t elaborate and we didn’t ask him to.
There were some things that were better left unspoken.
“Shall we return to the ball?” Taz asked quietly, but without much enthusiasm. The experience had left us drained, even though we had been lying down on a staircase.
Suddenly Kyran whirled and darted back over to the ledge of the staircase, looking around frantically. He shifted quickly, and jumped up on the banister on light golden paws. His nose twitched and his tail lashed in alarm, his fur bristling and standing up on end. He bared his teeth before jumping back, shifting mid-jump and landing less than an inch away from my face. I leaned back, noticing his eyes were wide with alarm. Then I heard something that made my heart sink, and it occurred to me that maybe we were going to die after all.
“Fire! There’s a fire!”
***
Two scarlet-eyed creatures sat on top of a carriage, watching the flames slowly spread from one of the window. They had laid a strip of oil down on the windowsill while they were inside, using magic so no one would notice, and set it on fire once they were safe. After locking all the doors and windows from the outside, of course. The fire was enchanted as to burn all living things. Even a fire demon would feel its sting. “Are you sure this is the way we should be going about this?” The blonde asked, his long fingers curled around a cup of tea that he had enchanted into existence to calm his frayed nerves.
The other nodded confidently. “We received information that the rebels are in there. If they refuse to come out, we shall simply kill him. If there are casualties, well, they must die for the sake of their country,” he said coolly, false sweetness lacing his tone.
He blonde fidgeted uncomfortably. He didn’t like this, no, not one bit. “But-”
“No buts,” his mentor said sharply, as if speaking to a small child.
He sighed before taking a long gulp of his tea. He watched the door shake a little, most likely from all the pounding on it from desperate people looking for a way to escape their death. He heard someone screaming. Suddenly someone slammed into the glass window and scrabbled at it, only to yank their hands away once the heat burned their palms. Two brown eyes stared at him, and their eyes locked. His breath caught in his throat. It was a boy with a scarlet mask crooked on his face, cheeks red and dressed all in white like an angel. The eyes did not seem angry, but rather held a deep sadness. They stared for a few moments before someone appeared behind him, with blond hair and blue eyes, a smudge of ash already on his cheek. His mask was gone, probably thrown off in the chaos. He caught where his friend was staring and his lips curled in an expression of hatred, his eyes burning. He tugged the angelic figure away from the window, and a panicked man replaced them, punching at the glass, only to score and cut his knuckles. They left a red smear on the glass.
He looked away and took a long drink of his tea, but it had already gone cold.