Page 62 of Oathborn
“I would expect nothing less.”
Javen didn’t tell him not to ask. Which meant Tobias now had a chance of getting answers, as long as he asked a worthy question. This time, he wouldn’t flub his opportunity. “What’s in those?” He pointed at the cigarettes.
Javen tossed the pack to him, his way of telling Tobias to figure it out. The box seemed like any other cigarette box. Unrolling one, Tobias brought it to his nose. Minty, spicy, and as he recognized it, utterly terrifying. “Cadevesh? This stuff will kill a man.”
“A human.” Javen reclaimed the pack, slipping it into his coat pocket. “Cadevesh will kill ahumanman. For others, it temporarily dissolves magic, though with some cost to one who consumes it.”
For others.For someone not human. A week ago, Tobias would have been shocked. Now, he just shrugged. “Makes sense.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Javen’s face. Tobias fought his smile, as he realized his failure to react had given him a speck of respect from the captain. Javen pulled a large map of Rhydonia onto the table. He smoothed a hand over it, then snapped his fingers. The smallest flare of blue light appeared, floating above his hand.
Using two fingers, he drew the light through a series of twisting shapes, some of which looked vaguely familiar from Tobias’s book on the fae language, then waved his hand downward. The chain of glittering shapes hit the map and spread, like a miniature forest fire.
Except the paper did not burn.
Instead, the flickering flames raced over tiny hand-drawn mountains, across the forest, and ended at Lake Lochna itself. The lights flared bright then disappeared. Javen seemed utterly nonplussed by the occurrence and took down a note in a small pad of paper.
Tobias swallowed the lump in his throat. Better to reason what the magic had done, than asking anything about it. The lights moved in a curving line all the way, into the Gloaming, and to Lake Lochna. So was it a tracking tool?
That made sense. Tobias drummed his fingers on the table like Javen would when he was questioning a suspect. “Couldn’t you toss the cadevesh on the fire, like you did for me?”
“I prefer a more portable format.”
“That’s fair.” Tobias kept his tone light, even as he filed away pieces of information. “Does the missus mind much? Ashes and soot on your uniforms must be a beast to clean.”
Javen’s lips twisted, not quite a smile nor a smirk. “I do my own laundry.”
“Your wife’s a lucky lady, then. My ma, she—” Tobias trailed off, seeing that unfeeling mask once more appear on Javen’s face.
“My wife,” Javen ground out, the two words more full of agony than he’d expected of the stoic captain, “is dead.”
That explained… a lot. It also ruined his theory about Javen having some secret lover. Perhaps, it revealed who the drawing had depicted. A widower, by etiquette, no longer needed to wear a ring after only a month’s mourning. He’d known Javen for longer, and the man still wore the ring, holding his grief close.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Javen ground out the cigarette into the dining table. It marred the wood, leaving a black mark behind, a tiny, deliberate act of destruction from the normally stoic captain. “You had no part in her death.”
Tobias rubbed his face, exhausted. How could the clock only show a half hour had passed when he felt as if he’d aged a hundred years? “It must hurt. The loss. The curse, too, or whatever you need the cadevesh for. So, just know that I’m here.”
“I am aware of your proximity.”
“No, I’m here for you. I joined the service to protect people. That includes you, sir.”
Javen raised an eyebrow. “I do not need protection.”
“What about—” He gestured at the map, the burned-down cigarette, all the relics of the strange last hour. “Who cursed you to…” Tobias hesitated again. “To require the cadevesh?”
“Are you so sure you want that answer?” Javen regarded Tobias with skepticism. “What if I told you it was the Queen herself?”
Tobias found his confusion growing with every answer. “But why? What does she have to gain by hurting you?”
A dry laugh echoed down the hall. “Everything.”
Chapter twenty-four
Zari
Zari and Yansin set out at dawn. As they walked, Yansin told of the ancient fae who had wielded the Crescent Blade. The tales spanned centuries, long before Rhydonia was a unified nation. He told her of unicorns, sea beasts and dragons, and she marveled, even when Yansin added the stories might not be entirely true.
