Borne Rising Page 17

  Her movements were as fluid as he remembered, her hands and tattooed wrists swaying as her body spun and twirled, just as before. Her raven hair caught the air as she dipped and twirled. There was no break in the music and no break in her dancing. His insides twisted at the sight of her pale skin in the dim light, at the memory of her lips against his own. Back when I was someone else. Someone she loved.

  With effort, Noctis tore his eyes away from her dancing and caught Clarice’s attention. He raised his drink and nodded toward Morella. Clarice set to work and Noctis returned his attention to Morella, the sole figure on the dance floor watched by the dazzled eyes of the surrounding patrons. Spinning, her ceaseless spinning—he found himself leaning far over the railing, drawn to her. He tightened his grip and pulled back. Calm down. Just take it slow.

  Without breaking from her motion, Morella accepted the drink from Clarice, who winked at her and gestured toward the balcony upon which Noctis leaned. When she spun away from the bartender, Morella’s eyes flickered up to Noctis. Even through the haze of alcohol, he caught the briefest hint of a smile on her face. She paused, stepping for the briefest moment out of her dance to raise the glass to him before downing it in a single draught. She set the empty glass on a nearby table, then looked away from him and resumed dancing.

  Conflicted, Noctis waited. He made to move for the bar, but Clarice appeared bearing another drink. He stayed put. Morella, too, had another. His head was swimming, the motion of Morella’s body as intoxicating as the ever-flowing Embers. The room seemed to dim even more, the darkness drawing in until all the illumination was solely upon Morella, like she was ringed in a spotlight. Noctis began to sway to the music from his perch. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the drink and the music. When he opened them, Morella was gone.

  Heart racing, Noctis scanned the room. She was nowhere to be seen. A hand pulled on his shoulder and spun him around. How did she get up here so quickly? Morella pushed him against the wall and pressed her mouth against his, wrapping her arms around him and continuing to sway in time with the music.

  She kissed him hard, with a new ferocity. She pushed him backward, against the curtains, never ceasing to move. Her hands traced the bare skin of his body—he had no memory of his shirt coming off. The red lanterned lights from the ballroom swam around them as Morella pushed him to the ground and straddled him.

  The world disappeared as their skin met. Noctis felt the fires raging in his body flare to life in a blazing fury. Static filled the air. White hot lightning danced across his skin and covered Morella’s naked body. It crackled and sparked along her skin, mirroring his own, and she screamed in delight. The tempo of the rhythmic music increased in time with the motion of their own bodies. Noctis’s world erupted in fire as Morella’s nails tore red rivets across his chest.

  They lay together, bare and blatant for any who had cause to look up. The world below was an afterthought. She was his world.

  “Never leave me again, Will.” Her head lay against his marred chest. When she raised it, her cheek was smeared with his blood and her tears. “Never leave me again.”

  The demand, the grotesque sight, they unnerved him more than he knew how to say. A sudden flash of uncertainty echoed deep in his mind. Still, he found himself nodding.

  Morella lay her head back against his shoulder and traced the bloody tracks on his chest with her fingers. Noctis stiffened, suddenly very conscious of the fact that they were still on the balcony. The curtains afforded them some privacy, but not much. He ran his fingers along her bare back and kissed the top of her head.

  “We should move, Morella. We need to talk.”

  Her body tensed and she drew back from him, eyes suspicious and mouth curled down. “Will . . .”

  He took her hands in his. “Nothing bad, Morella.”

  Still wary, she nodded and rose to her feet. Naked before the entire room, she raised her arms above her head and stretched. Looking down at him, she smiled at the surprised shock on his face before feigning demurity and covering her breasts. Abandoning her scattered clothes, she stepped away from him and into his room, beckoning for him to follow.

  Heart racing, he did.

  Noctis talked while Morella listened. He told her of din’Dael and the Sapholux. He told her of the pain of losing her and Madigan. He told her of how, at the end of everything, din’Dael had seen to the purging of Will and the new guise of Noctis. He told her of the journey through the desert, of the Isle of Eternity, but he kept his conversation with Rienne to himself. He told her of the Crow and Cephora and the previous weeks in Undermyre. And he told her of the coming of Jero din’Dael at the head of an army of Lightborne. When he finished his telling, she sat in silence.

  “That sounds like quite an adventure, Will.”

  “Not quite the way I’d planned it to go.” He’d held back in some areas without really knowing why. He’d told her nothing of the hoard of aerilite weapons beneath the Sapholux, nor of the Relic housed within its depths. Those things didn’t feel like they were his to tell. Better to wait until the time is right.

  “No,” she said softly. “I would imagine not.”

  She seemed suddenly distant, withdrawn. I can’t lose her again. “Morella, when din’Dael took me, back at the Shale. I heard you. I heard you screaming. How did you escape? How did Val—”

  “Stop.” She closed her eyes and held up a hand to him. “If we are to find something resembling what we once had, you must promise that you will never ask me what happened there.”

  He closed his mouth and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. I only meant—”

  “He let me go.” Her voice quivered. “He . . . it is nothing I’d care to describe again. He showed an ounce of mercy. Perhaps for everything I had on the Relics. Everything I’d ever worked for.”

  “That madman just let you walk away?”

  Her eyes became hateful and her mouth twisted. “Hardly.”

  Noctis didn’t press further. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said instead. “You’re the only person I could imagine who might know how to help my brother. Cephora, she thinks he was taken by someone I didn’t even know existed. Valmont’s daughter, Aurellaine.”

  Morella’s body tensed and her expression grew even darker. Her eyes turned hard and she glared at Noctis. “Oh?”

  “Cephora believes Aurellaine took Mad under the pretense of training him in the ways of a Shadowborne.”

  “The woman was Shadowborne?” Morella’s voice was a whisper laced with malice. Noctis nodded. “And Cephora is sure that it is Aurellaine Valmont?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know. Our meeting wasn’t entirely pleasant.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Morella said wryly.

  “I don’t know anything about Aurellaine Valmont. I’d never heard the name up until a few weeks ago,” Noctis said. “I don’t know what danger Mad could be in, but I know for certain that he knows even less about her than I do. I need to find him. I was hoping you could help.”

  “And how would I do that?”

  “Come with me. Teach me what you know of Valmont’s daughter.”

  She barked a laugh. “You think I’m an expert on her, do you?”

  “I think that if you know more than her name, you know more about her than I do.”

  She looked at him quizzically for a moment then smiled and bent down to kiss him. “You’re right, lover.”

  “You’ll come with me?”

  “The Relics, Valmont, a Lightborne, and a Shadowborne? Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  “And us, then?” Noctis said softly. “Should I be reading into the past hour’s activities as much as I am?”

  Her mouth tightened a bit, but she winked at him nonetheless. “Will. Noctis. Whatever you’re called, you’re mine. I’m not going to let that change.”

  Noctis didn’t say anything and she nuzzled back against him. His chest itched where she had scratched it, but it wasn’t that th
at had him distracted. Hers, he thought. Why does it seem like there’s something else behind her words? He didn’t have time to linger on the thought because she began to trace her fingers along his chest.

  “It has been far too long,” she said. When she climbed atop him once more, whatever lingering thoughts and doubts were dashed from Noctis’s mind.

  He was hers.

  16

  Those Worth Saving

  Noctis returned to the Nordoth the following day while Morella opted to remain in his rooms at the Street. He didn’t ask where she had been staying previously. She had made it very apparent that whatever had happened before their reunion was hers and hers alone. Much as it ate at him to suppress his questions, he bit his tongue and didn’t ask.

  Ynarra was leaving his chamber in the Nordoth when he arrived. Her face split into a wide grin when she saw him, but then she immediately flushed and, before he could speak to her, turned and scurried off in the opposite direction. Noctis chuckled to himself. That girl is something else. I see why Mad liked her.

  He retrieved the fresh decanter of wine and made for the library. Morella had agreed to help, but she didn’t imply that she was the wealth of knowledge about Aurellaine Valmont he’d hoped she’d be. Regardless, perhaps there was some mention of the woman somewhere within the tomes. He set the decanter of wine on the table and poured himself a glass, drank in the flavor with a smile, and set to work.

  Nothing.

  Hours dragged by. Many books he was able to discard completely, histories predating the Wars of Dawning, simple biographies, and firsthand accounts of political maneuvering between Undermyre and the surrounding territories. Anything pertaining to Valmont and the fall of the Shadowborne, or really anything from the past few hundred years, was scarce. There was nothing he hadn’t seen before. He frowned. There simply had to be more than this.

  When the second decanter was empty, hours later, Noctis pushed himself to his feet and stumbled to the window and drew the curtains. It was impossible to tell the time of day, but he knew it had grown late simply by the drag of his body. He thumbed the fangs’ bloodstones and considered using a bit of their power, just to keep going.

  There, staring out at the glowing city and thumbing his daggers, a pang of confusion rose in his mind. It was small, a minor inconsistency that he nearly discarded, but it nagged at him. Rienne had said that the fangs’ power shouldn’t have worked for anyone wielding the power of Radiance, something about opposites contradicting one another.

  And yet, when he’d first known Morella, he’d used them frequently enough. Morella knew what the weapons were and, as a historian who specialized in such things, surely she knew what Rienne had known. But when he revealed himself to her as Lightborne, she’d said nothing about the daggers. She probably just forgot, he thought. They’d been distracted by other endeavors, after all. But still, something to put a pin in and ask her about. Maybe she’s heard something about people realigning themselves, willingly or not.

  His eyes fell to the part of the city that housed the Street of Ash where his lover was undoubtedly dancing. She had more answers than she let on, maybe more than she even knew. In some ways she’s just as guarded as she was the first day we met. He had to find a way to get her to open up to him.

  Closing the curtains, he considered his bed in the loft. Large and soft, yes, but lonely. In all their time together, he and Morella had only spent the night together on hard ground under thin blankets. And last night, well, there had been little sleep for either of them last night. He smiled. Wine or no wine, the Street wasn’t that far of a walk.

  He grabbed his cloak and stumbled out the door.

  During the next few days, they fell into a pleasant, if distracting, routine. Filled with liquor, dancing, and the warmth of skin, Noctis and Morella lost themselves in one another. In his rare moments of sobriety, Noctis considered that Madigan would surely have groaned at the life he was living, but he pushed the thought from his mind. Growing up with Jervin, then spending the majority of the time since either on the road or cooped up in a training facility, there had been little to no time for Noctis to simply enjoy life. Hedonism, the philosophers called it. I see the appeal. And, honestly, it’s about time.

  After nearly a week, however, Noctis started feeling antsy. Mad is in trouble, don’t forget that. Get your head clear and go help.

  He looked down to where Morella lay curled up in his arms. He kissed her softly on the head. “Morella, we really need to get a few things figured out.”

  She nuzzled her head against his chest. “Is that so?”

  Noctis wrestled with himself. Gently, he eased her away and sat up. “If Mad is in trouble, I can’t just . . .” He trailed off.

  “Why don’t we go up to the Nordoth?” She kissed the fresh cuts her nails had made in his back. She draped her arms around his chest and nuzzled the back of his neck. “At least for a brief time. We can talk there.”

  Noctis craned his head around and smiled. “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely. Plus, I’d like to get the layout of the place in case you disappear on me again and I need to find you.”

  “You think I plan on disappearing on you?” He chuckled lightly.

  “Not if you know what’s good for you,” she said and playfully bit his ear. “But still, you’ve got your responsibilities there, eventually. This way, if you’re gone for too long and not able to make it back to me here, I can come hunt you down.”

  He rolled his shoulders and pulled her around to face him. “I’d like that very much, I think.” She grinned wide. He kissed her gently and they fell to pleasant distraction once more.

  Later, Noctis guided Morella along the now-familiar back roads that formed the quickest path between the Nordoth and the Street. The guards at the various checkpoints didn’t even glance his way anymore, even when he was accompanied by a stranger on his arm. He showed her the hidden door within the courtyard and the winding stair within and, laughing drunkenly, they climbed the stairs.

  “I never knew this passage existed,” Morella whispered excitedly. “It’ll make coming and going without notice much easier. Are there more like this?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Noctis grinned and squeezed her hand. “I only ever venture out to make my way to your bed.”

  “Our bed.” She squeezed his hand back.

  Noctis felt like a child again, sneaking out at night and breaking the rules. Then something Morella said triggered in his mind and he paused, turning back to her. “Wait, you didn’t know about this passage. So, you’ve been in the Nordoth before?”

  She chortled and rolled her eyes before nodding. “Briefly. I attended one of the council’s open-proclamation sessions once. It was very dull.” She smiled conspiratorially. “I may have snuck off and explored a bit.”

  Noctis feigned shock. “My, aren’t you just the scandalous rebel?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and smiled. “Oh yes, best stay on your toes around me.”

  They reached the top of the stair and Noctis led her into his chamber. It had been days since he was last there, but nonetheless, there were refreshments and a jug of wine waiting. He poured a large portion into the single glass and offered it to Morella. She gave him a flirtatious ‘ooh’ as she accepted it and took a sip.

  “We can share,” she said with a wink.

  Without another word, she downed the contents of the glass in a single breath and grabbed the bottle. Rather than refilling the glass, however, she took Noctis’s hand and, after a quick scan of the room, made for the stairs that led to the loft.

  “Morella, we really should—” He was cut off as she whirled and pressed her lips against his. Drawing away, she gave him her coy, crooked grin and continued leading him to the steps. Oh, I suppose Mad can wait, Noctis mused.

  Morella set the bottle on the bedside table and pressed Noctis down onto the lush blankets. His eyes fell to the vacant bed at the other end of the loft and his thoughts became distracted by his brother
once more. No, it couldn’t wait. Now’s not the time. He rose to his feet. “Really though, this whole Aurellaine thing—”

  Morella shoved him hard enough to knock him back but lightly enough to still be playful, and he fell back onto the bed. Pushing up onto his elbows, his thoughts became focused solely on her once more. She disrobed and climbed onto the bed, kissing his chest and his neck. Just relax. He can wait.

  No, he can’t. “Morella, really I think that—”

  This time he was cut off by something below them on the landing: the sound of the door opening. Noctis quickly glanced to the side and saw Ynarra enter, carrying a small tray of food and beaming.

  Morella, too, had noticed the newcomer. She frowned. She pushed herself up off Noctis and strode to the top of the stairs.

  Ynarra, who had been glancing around the room looking for Noctis, suddenly saw the naked woman standing with arms crossed. Her eyes widening, Ynarra opened her mouth to speak but quickly thought better of it. Her face blushed a vibrant red. She dropped her eyes and hurried into the room with the tray, following the routine so familiar to Noctis from his first stay.

  Morella, still scowling, reached down and wrapped a nearby shawl around her waist. While Ynarra busied herself, Morella strode down to the lower level, eyeing the girl. Noctis, scrambling to adjust his clothing, quickly followed.

  “Apologies, sir,” Ynarra said quickly, keeping her eyes down. “I did not know that there was a guest. Beyond you, sir. You are our guest. I meant your own guest. Sir.”

  “It’s fine, Ynarra,” Noctis said, raising a friendly hand and smiling. “You have no need to apologize. I should have—”

  “Another glass,” Morella snapped at the girl with an authoritative tone that brooked no argument. “Another bottle, while you’re at it. Quickly.”

  Ynarra glanced from Noctis to Morella before quite abruptly dropping her eyes to the ground. She curtsied limply. “Yes, mistress. I am sorry, mistress.”

  “Quickly, I said.”