Lifeblood

Chapter 14

Orange light inched up the wall to reveal cool, gray stone. Instead of bright colors, the night descended with hues of blue and quiet sounds, a cricket's chirp here, a hushed conversation there. The wall dripped with the remnants of rain, and against it, a girl basked in the retreating glow, lifting herself on the tips of her toes to catch it.

It slid up to her chin, framing her face in gold. But, despite her efforts, it ascended out of reach, and Aida rose one arm to the sky, fruitlessly pursuing the day's last sunray before it sank into the night.

Shade blanketed the city, all but the tallest buildings covered in shadow. Aida lowered her arm, playing with a lock of wild, blonde hair whose luster disappeared with the sun. Her other hand rested on her pocket, tracing the shape of a comb inside. Her fingers slipped in, brushing against the ivory teeth.

She pulled it out.

Instead of taming her hair, she held it close, memorizing each curve of the delicate roses welded into the handle, in contrast with the deceptively strong metal. Yet, she was afraid to run it through her hair, potentially damaging the one treasure she owned. This was a comb she would never use.

Footsteps approached, and the comb fell back into her pocket.

Aida peeked around the corner. "Hyra?"

The figure froze, then visibly relaxed when she recognized Aida. "I thought I told you to go to the inn." Hyra unclenched her fists, and she adjusted her gloves.

"You did," Aida confirmed. "What did he say?"

Hyra remained silent, glancing at Aida and back to the empty street.

"Um, Blackfoot is over there. You can tell me about it later if you like." Aida grabbed her hand and tugged Hyra in the direction she had pointed out. Staying in the city after dark bothered her, and Aida had grown restless and, admittedly, worried waiting for Hyra to come out.

Hyra pressed her lips together and nodded.

The ride to the inn was silent. And when they stopped next to the stables, Hyra didn't move, her eyes focused but not on anything in particular. "Hey." Aida waved a hand in front of her face. Hyra blinked and brushed the hand away.

They found an empty stall for Blackfoot, and Aida unsaddled him and got everything ready for the night. She stretched her arms, pausing when she caught Hyra staring at her.

"Hmm?" Aida dropped her arms to her sides.

Hyra straightened. "I . . . need you to do me a favor."

"A favor?" There was something off about the request. Hyra didn't ask for favors often, and if something needed to be done, she would do it herself.

"We need to get Mary alone. And I need you to find out what she is, as soon as possible."

Aida studied the cobblestone under her feet. The silence stretched on, and she worried her lip, never able to bear it for long. "What did you and Ivo talk about?"

Hyra's mouth opened, then closed. She licked her lips and turned to the side, shoulder blades making contact with the wooden support behind her. Her chin rested on one hand.

"It's not a good idea to get involved with them, you know," Aida blurted. She fidgeted, tugging on a lock of hair.

"Do you know how to contact him?"

Aida went rigid before whipping around.

"You—you're way too interested in this, whether you think it's for my sake, or because you think Mary—"