The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter 4

Ariana checked the back of her hand anxiously, hoping to see a mark. After what she'd managed to do to save Hunter, she thought for sure it would've appeared. But there wasn't so much as an itch. She frowned, shoving a branch out her way as they rounded a bend in the little path.

“What's that chiming?” Hunter asked.

“The bells,” Tehya answered. “The city gates will close soon, and we do
not
want to be stuck outside when that happens.”

“The bells are the warning," Ariana elaborated, feeling a stir of annoyance at Tehya's easiness with Hunter.

He twisted his lips in a thoughtful frown. “Are we far?”

“Not terribly,” Tehya said, pointing to the tips and spires of Eastridge peeking over the treetops. “But we're taking a bit of a winding route, just in case, so we'll be cutting it close.”

“And if we aren't satisfied with your confession we're leaving you at the gates,” Ariana warned.

Tehya stepped closer to Ariana and spoke softly so Hunter couldn't hear. "If a Mustang can trust him, why can't you? Have a little faith."

Ariana pinched her lips together and exhaled through her nose before she responded, her voice low. "He's a liar, Tehya. It's dangerous to trust a liar."

"
You
lie all the time."

"Only when it's necessary. I'm Tieren. I have to."

"But so is he."

"There's more to it than that, Tehya, I'm certain of it."

Tehya sighed and didn't reply. T
he only sound was that of
leaves crunching beneath their feet as they threaded through the woods until she finally spoke, this time much louder, her eyes on Hunter “What lie have you told?”

“The book,” Ariana said, more as a prompt to Hunter than an explanation.

Hunter grunted. “Yes. I used the book."

A trill of excitement shot through Ariana. “When?”

Tehya frowned as Hunter fell into step beside her.

“This morning, I think. But I'm not sure how much time passed. I kind of blacked out.”

“So that's why you were in the Pass.”

Tehya shook her head. “I don't understand. What do you mean you used the book?”

Ariana handed the book to her then, excitement flooding her. “It's a portal book.”

Tehya gasped. “How...?”

“Yes. How.” She turned back to Hunter. “How'd you find a book that worked? Where in the Nine did you come from?” It was all very unbelievable. “You
swear
you aren't Fyrennian?”

“What? Yes, I swear,” he asserted. “Definitely
not
Fyrennian.”

He seemed genuine, she supposed. After all, what reason would he have to lie?
Well, if he's a Lockden kid and knows about Eden house somehow... But no. What happened back there couldn't have been planned. There would have been too much relying on coincidence
. “Let's say I believe you,” she said. “How'd you get the book? Where are you from?”

“Kansas,” he answered.

Not one of the Nine?

“My grandpa gave it to me.” His face clouded over as he said it, and he looked mildly nauseous.

“Portal books aren't banned where you're from?” Tehya asked.

He was quiet for a moment, his brows knitted tightly together. Then he set his jaw and looked her in the eye. “Truthfully? I didn't even know stuff like that existed outside of stories until Huntsmen raided our farmhouse.”

That answer was unexpected. Why the Huntsmen raided his house was anyone's guess, and certainly not uncommon. But how was it possible that he didn't know the books existed?

Tehya spoke Ariana's thoughts. “How could you
not know
?

Hunter bit his lip. It was clear he didn't want to elaborate. And yet, he seemed unable to stop himself from saying, “Magic isn't—it doesn't exist in my world. Not really. Not outside of stories.” He gave a little laugh, part hysterical, part mirthless. “Back home, when people say books can transport you to another world, they don't mean it literally..."

"Magic?"

"You call it something different? The stuff you can do? Like the rain and the trees back there?"

Ariana cocked her head. "Etâme?"

"Sure. Yeah."

"But how did you use etâme if you didn't know it existed?"

"I haven't."

"But we saw you," Tehya said. "With the Mustang."

"You think that was magic—er—etâme—how I calmed the horse?"

Tehya nodded.

"I'm just good at calming animals."

So he didn't even know what he was? Or was he hiding the fact because he was being hunted? He was definitely not "just good" with that Mustang. Other things were happening there. He was changing that horse with etâme and he had no idea. Who
was
this kid and why did he seem to know so little about the world?

"So why the box full of Scales?" Tehya asked.

Ariana felt her cheeks color, glad to be a step in front of her so she wouldn't see. Tehya didn't know she'd managed to palm the tin off the big brute as she ran past him, and she wouldn't be very impressed with Ariana for not having already returned it to the boy. But something in Ariana's gut told her to hang on to it. Just until she knew whether or not to trust him.

The mention of his lost treasure made his face pale. "I don't know what I'm going to do without that money." He looked so forlorn, she almost felt bad for not telling him the truth.

"How'd you get it in the first place?" she asked instead. "It looked like a lot." Felt like a lot, too, weighing down the pocket of her coat.

He laughed dryly. "If a hundred and twenty thousand dollars is a lot."

"Dollars?" Tehya asked.

"Oh, wait." He tapped his fingertips. Doing some quick calculations, she suspected. "Forty thousand Scales," he corrected, adding quietly, "Doesn't sound nearly as impressive."

Ariana choked, not expecting that. "Who carries that amount of wealth in a tin box?"

Hunter smiled ruefully. "Well,
those
guys, now," he answered.

Ariana chuckled softly, but smothered it with a frown. "So you're on the run."

Hunter huffed. "I don't know. I guess. I'm just trying not to get myself killed."

"Smart, coming to Ionia," she couldn't help saying.

"It's not like I had much choice," Hunter retorted.

"Why not?" Tehya asked.

Though Hunter had grown defensive as Ariana asked her questions, his expression softened with Tehya's. Which was ridiculous, since Ariana was just about to ask the same thing. But boys were always ridiculous when it came to Tehya.

"Our farmhouse was attacked. My grandpa gave me a few instructions and shoved me toward the exit." He sounded sad and a little bitter as he said it.

"With a bunch of old papers and a box full of Scales?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's..." He seemed to think better of saying the rest of the sentence and shrugged again instead.

Ariana wanted to push him further but just then, they breached the tree line, and she heard Hunter gasp.

Stretched below them was a massive expanse of white stone: the city tucked inside a wall that circled wide and swallowed up the entire low-lying valley. Beyond the jumble of towers and buildings, the far walls faded into the distance, meeting with the darkened sky hovering over the Ladrian Sea.

Even from where they stood, Ariana could hear the water lapping against the western walls. The fading light, peeking out from beneath the storm clouds, dripped over the buildings and their copper roofs like river water across a bed of stones.

She itched to get inside the walls, her mind crowded with thoughts of her friends at Eden House, and the fear of being locked out—having to return home. But seeing Hunter gawk, she couldn't help cracking a smile, and it grew wider when she caught Tehya's eye.

"Welcome to Eastridge," Tehya said, her voice warm with their shared mirth.

"It's everything I imagined," he murmured.

Ariana eyed the gate crew preparing to lower the heavy stone that filled the archway, sealing the wall at night. "Did you imagine sleeping out here, too?" she asked.

"Wha?" He tore his gaze from the view.

She searched over his shoulder in the darkness between the trees, her mind conjuring the glint of a metal horn. She shivered. "Let's hurry."

They started down the hill at a jog.

An overly-bundled member of the crew met them at the gate. He pulled down his fur-lined hood, revealing a bald head and a sour expression on a bristly face.

"Cutting it close, underlings," he said, his heavy Naveanic accent apparent from the switching of sounds in his vowels.

A southerner. The Fyrennian force must be strengthening there, if he'd dared to brave the coming winter anywhere north of Quall.

"Got held up in the Pass," Tehya said, by way of apology, as the closing bells chimed through the city.

"Git on, then."

They did, dragging Hunter behind them as they hurried along Main Street, the widest of the white cobblestone roads melding seamlessly into the white stone buildings. It led straight uphill to the city center, where the seven thin bell towers twirled around each other, shooting high above the copper rooftops, each needle-sharp point rising a step higher than the one before.

As usual, once the bells had been rung, Eastridge emptied. The shops closed. The lights extinguished. The citizens tucked themselves safely into their houses before the night's shadow touched their doorsteps. It was likely the three of them and the gate crew were the only ones still out of doors.

And yet, Hunter's eyes were alight with awe.

Did they not have cities in Kansas
?

Sure, in the absence of people, Eastridge retained a certain sense of life. Bright, jewel-colored garments hung from drying lines that stretched from window to high window in the alleyways. But it was a life of false brightness, the color a shoddy mask over the face of their oppression. Bold red, gold, and black glared from the propaganda plastered on the walls of every building, bearing the image of King Fyrenn or his family crest—a pronged and flame-licked "F"—a constant reminder of who was in charge.

"Is that—?"

"We'll talk inside," Ariana cut in, uncomfortable lingering in the streets this close to dark.

Yes, the gates were closed. But not only to keep people out. Eastridge was Fyrennian territory, regardless. Maybe the Fyrennians weren't officially within the walls, but people still seemed to go missing most often in the darkness. No one could be trusted. Citizens turned to the Huntsmen for many reasons; some for the simple means to survive, others with much darker intent.

Ariana
led them through a side alley and they emerged on Olde Market Road. Most of the propaganda within reach here had been vandalized with an encircled Elder Script "S"—the emblem of the Shadowed Society.

Below each symbol was the familiar squiggle of Perry Madison's artful signature.

The symbol reminded her that she had yet to discover Hunter's alliance. Was he a Shadow? Or a Fyrennian? And why was he here? What did he want? Surely he was not just escaping. Escaping into Ionia from seven of the eight current worlds of etâme connected to it was almost as idiotic as escaping into the world of  Helede from any of the others. No one would be so null. Not without a motive or a plan or something.

“This way,” Tehya said, taking Hunter's hand in hers.

"Wait." Ariana stopped. "Are you sure you want to bring him to the house, Tey? You can't change your mind once he's seen it."

Tehya stuck out her chin. "Yes. I am." She gave Hunter a warm smile. He returned it with an eager smile of his own.

Ariana groaned inwardly. Boys. "Fine," she said.
Hope we don't regret this.

The road forked a hundred strides ahead of them, giving the building at the split a flattened, triangular look Ariana had always found charming. The left side of the road curved away from the bell towers and around the hill, quickly engulfed in the trappings of the Old Market. In the daylight, the bright colors and patterns of the awnings grew plentiful there, drawing the eye like a patch of wildflowers breaking through freshly fallen snow.

They took the road that drifted uphill. Market Overlook. A residential street. The houses were tall and thin here, though a few of the upper levels extended over the shorter buildings beside them, giving them a puzzle-pieced quality.

Stairs clung to the walls of the houses, winding around windows to reach the third, fourth, and fifth story doors. Most of these upper-story additions were small one- or two-room homes. But a few, like that of her instructor, Master Bardoc Edan, were still connected to the main house below, and served as extra rooms or studios.

She peered down the darkening street. A pool of warm light escaped from the open front door of Edan House. It should have felt welcoming. Standing in the doorway was the one person who could make it anything but.