The Moon's Fangs | 1
47 | respite's end

“He knows.” I explained the situation to Reks after we stepped far enough away from the dance floor and out of range from familiar faces.

Every muscle in his body visibly stiffened. He rolled his shoulders to release the tension, though it didn’t help the muscle ticking in his clenched jaw as he began to scan the party guests for where Nolan had disappeared off to.

“Damn. I don’t know what to think of it. He sounds scared, by your recount. If he’s saying his back’s against a wall, then someone else must be cornering him in, pulling the strings.”

“That’s not all.” I grimaced. “He knows who you really are, and referred to you as The Moon’s Fangs. I’m not exactly sure, but I think Etch is searching for you here. Nolan somehow knew we’d be in attendance. Etch knows he’s related to Cyra.”

Reks breathed a quiet curse. “Did he mention Sio?”

“No.” I shook my head.

My gaze shifted over to Danika. She laughed as a woman with a curtain of long, copper hair tugged her toward the dance floor. Danika extended her arm to hand her drink over to Nikoe to hold for her. He offered a bemused smile as she assured him with a single finger she’d be back after that one dance.

“We’ll need to keep our guards up. Hard to gauge what he's up to. Luk hasn't found where Sio might be located yet, but we'll need to try and get ahead of whatever Nolan's up to.” he said, tracking my line of sight. “Those two seemed nice enough.”

I smiled, watching Danika spin and laugh around the dance floor with her dance partner. A longing look shadowed Nikoe’s gaze as he watched from the sidelines.

“Danika was a complete sweetheart when I first met her. Nikoe was a bit of a grumbling turd. But I think he means well. Blaire was crushing on him pretty hard.” I laughed quietly, though it was edged in sadness.

I felt Reks’ gaze hover over me for a moment, then looked back at the dance floor before. “He’s in love with that Daario girl. Madly, I fear.” he shot me a comic grimace. “Blaire’ll have to be assertive to get that guy's head out of the dirt.”

I snorted, which made Reks smile. It was the kind of smile he tried to bite back to keep from growing. The kind of smile that made my heart swell. I pressed a hand to my chest. “You are so underestimating Blaire’s ability to win over any boy she’s set on. She practically had him swooning seconds after meeting. Plus, I don’t think her competition is currently playing in the same ballpark.” I pointed out, glancing back over to Danika’s dance partner.

Her cheeks flushed a soft red as the copper-haired girl idly explored the length of Danika's side, leaning in to whisper sweet nothings in her ear as the song came to an end. The shared smiles suggested a hidden promise as their fingers held on to each other until the last moment before separation.

“You’re not wrong.” Reks said as everyone’s attention moved towards the opposite side of the gala, where the lead stylist, Keena Isles, called for the room's attention.

When I looked up at his face though, an unanswered question seemed to linger. His brows were drawn together, lips in a tight line.

“What is it?”

“Nolan.” he said, tone serious. “He's not in the ballroom anymore.”

We shared a look of concern.

~I am not fond of this. Not in the slightest! Nolan Rhosyn has enough information to take legal action against us if he so wished. Upon questioning, I would be deemed an abomination. They would have me severed, Amelia. We must hurry to find Sio, then leave at once!~ Nox rattled. A shiver coursed down its spine, sending a chill down my own neck.

We won’t let that happen, I assured. You might be an ornery little snake, but you’re mine. No one will change that.

~Aw, Amelia.~ Nox’s serpentine voice drew out my name in adoration. ~You mean it?~

“We’ll give this speech a few minutes before taking the next step.” Reks said just as everyone’s attention finally settled on the stage.

Keena Isles gave the audience a broad smile. “My, what lovely primordials all of you make. I must say, this is one of my favorite themes I’ve hosted in a long while.” Several guests nodded their heads in agreement while others lifted their glasses in salute to the stylist.

As she continued, she noted how well her charity clothing line performed the past year, revealing something new to come at the next Onyx Moon, as well as hinting towards a little event to mark the end of the night later in the evening.

After her long-winded speech, she finally ended it with a grand sweep of her arm towards the finely dressed council sitting in a wide half circle around the back edge of the stage. “Now, I take great pleasure to hand my beautiful primordials over to our beloved Grand Councilor Varkin.”

Upon hearing the councilor’s name, everyone around us suddenly drew a Guide-activated circle with their index fingers in the air in front of them. Amber projections lit up the air above our heads as everyone pushed their projections upward to dissipate like gold particles, fluttering away like butterflies turned ashen.

I faked the movements like a newbie cheerleader who never went to a single practice before gameday – panicked and utterly delayed.

“Don’t add your own projection to the mix.” Reks whispered, gently pushing my hand back down. “Our Guides do not match theirs.”

My heart thudded a little deeper as his fingers took their time to slide away from my arm.

The restrictions these glamours placed on us were really getting on my nerves.

The gentleman who stood among the other council put a hand to his chest, as if in awe of the warm welcoming from the high-ranking guests before him. Gold rings adorned all his fingers except his forefinger, which matched the amber-gold serpent etched around the collar of his white long coat. His straight, brown hair was pulled back into a formal low ponytail, bringing more attention to his striking hawk nose and bright yellow eyes. He didn’t look older than forty, yet his profile claimed him to be approaching ninety years old.

When he spoke, it was like cold velvet. “First, I would like to address what is at the forefront of all our minds tonight: the scare we all experienced when our protective barrier rattled, not only around our home but also our peace of mind.” he paused, taking time to meet gazes in the crowd. “I hope it puts you at ease to know we, The Circle, are doing everything in our power to sustain our way of life. You have nothing to worry about, as it is being taken care of. It has also been brought to my attention that our beloved citizens hidden underground took considerable damage upon the scare as well. Please know The Circle plans to make adjustments to their safety in future meetings.” Varkin’s gaze searched for someone in particular, paused on Nikoe for a half second, before continuing on with his speech.

Nikoe, who stood near the front with Danika, looked around the crowd with a frown deepening his expression. From my point of view, I caught him ask Danika a question, mouthing his brother’s name as he did another quick sweep that came up short. His gaze met Reks’ – Piren’s – and he mouthed his brother’s name to him as well.

Reks made a show of checking behind him, craning his neck over taller guests to get a better look. He turned back to Nikoe and shook his head, brows coming together in question. Nikoe pursed his lips into a grimace before turning his attention back to the stage.

Reks leaned down close enough to discreetly whisper in my ear. “Right now, I bet Nikoe Rhosyn is trying to contact Nolan via commlink. If he doesn’t get a hold of him, it presents an opportunity for us.”

“How so?”

“Look at him. He’s fidgeting under his father’s death glares.” he nodded towards General Rhosyn, who had a sneer painted into his expression. “Nikoe’s bound to quietly excuse himself to go look for him.”

“Oh.” It clicked in my head. “They have access to get past the guarded doors.”

“Precisely. The moment Nikoe moves to leave, all we need to do is convince him we’d be a boon to his little search party.”

"Then we ditch him and find Sio instead." I surmised.

After Varkin’s blanket statement about helping the Asylum, he moved on to speak about accomplishments, new goals and projects, along with highlighting the candidates running for the council seat opening at the upcoming Onyx Moon. One of which, Varkin's own son, who I recognized from Altered. The sly-looking guy named Orinzah, who Danika didn't seem to be on the best of terms with.

I tried to pay attention to the speech, but most of what he said came off super boring and unimportant. But since Reks kept tabs on Nikoe, one of us needed to look like we were paying attention to The Circle's announcements.

A daydream tugged at my mind.

I blinked it away, but then something small and warm splashed onto my cheek. I looked up, and a mixture of wonder and dread curled in my stomach as the mirrored stars on the ceiling seemed to eddy like passing waves, turning the constellations into a nebula sea.

My mouth went dry. Everything and everyone in the room slowed to a daunting, unmoving silence.

It was as if time itself pushed the pause button on all life. Even the cascade of water into the basins froze.

“Reks?” I whispered, grabbing his arm. “Reks.” But he wasn’t answering, wasn’t looking, wasn’t registering my voice.

Like I was nothing more than a ghost.

An arid cold slid past my shoulder blades, carrying a haunt of hisses. Some distant, some dangerously close. I recoiled, bumping into someone who offered no reaction to being elbowed in the side.

I mentally reached out to Nox, receiving nothing in return.

Fear climbed in my throat as that invisible force, like wind given form, encouraged me to move towards the back of the crowd. I reached out to grab Reks’ hand, but my fingers merely skimmed his before being pulled out of reach.

Unintelligible whispers coaxed me forward, weaving me through the crowd whose eyes were still frozen on Grand Councilor Varkin.

Through the disarray of whispers and hisses, silvery words broke the surface.

~Finally. The respite is no more.~

Fear clawed it's way up my chest.

Sio.

The whispers led me away from the crowd, pointing me in the direction of closed doors paired with two armed guards. Panic. Panic spread like wildfire in my veins.

I passed by Shion and Etch, frozen in an argument.

“No. No, not yet.” I pleaded to the invisible force driving me forward one step at a time. “Not without Reks. Please!”

~Amelia–~ a smoky voice, barely audible, like a distant echo.

Something intense shuttered through my body. Then pain ruptured in my wrist – followed by a bright fire exploding up my veins.

~AMELIA!~ Reks’ voice slammed into my psyche. It hit so hard, it drove the slithering whispers away, like shadows peeling away from the sun.

My breath hitched as everything turned normal again around me, relinquishing control back to me. I fell back from the force, like shoving all my weight against a wall that suddenly disappeared.

Someone’s hands – Reks’ glamoured hands – gripped onto my arm, my wrist as my back collided against his chest. I caught the faint glimmer of his Guide, Luk, slithering back under his skin, taking the fire away as it withdrew from mine.

“Ouch…” I whispered through hitched breaths.

Through the veil, his black, prismatic eyes were wide with a mixture of worry and something lethal. “Forgive me. I… I was out of options.” a few curious glances from people in the back of the crowd made Reks drop his hands from mine.

I snagged his arm back and pulled him into an embrace, uncaring of what strangers thought. I squeezed him, fighting the tears of fear and gratitude swelling at once. "Th-thank you. Both of you." I breathed out slowly to help still my racing heart, making an effort to let him go before it carried on for too long. "I had no control this time. It was... completely terrifying."

No one else seemed to notice. The speech carried on, unaware the world had gone on pause.

Reks lightly stroked the length of my hair, careful not to ruin Shion's work. "Sio must sense our presence." he kept his voice low, looking around to confirm we hadn't drawn suspicion. He fixed the cuff of his sleeve.

~Blazes. My head! Why in the Fates is the Superior Guide picking on us? I've had enough of these atrocious headaches and black cages.~ Nox's projection rippled under my skin, fighting the urge to take on its preferred form.

Reks noticed the slight color stirred across my shoulders, and he reached over to squeeze one. The quiet sentiment seemed to calm Nox down a little. "It's a Guide's duty to prioritize your life, so in times such as this when something is out of its control, it can be frustrating." He whispered not only to me but to Nox as well. "When Sio shuts you out, Luk and I will take care of the slack."

I smiled, offering a tight nod in understanding. "Just a little love bite, right?"

He pressed his lips together, noting how Etch attempted to somewhat quietly siphon information from a very stubborn Shion. By the growing frustration across his volcanic makeup face, he wasn't getting too far.

Towards the front, Nikoe looked to have excused himself and now worked to weave out of the crowd.

Reks gave me a serious look. “Where was it trying to lead you?”

“It–”

Shouts reverberated, so loud, Varkin paused in his speech. All our heads turned towards the distraught voices, which bled into a cascade of screams. The two guards posted outside of the closed doors suddenly withdrew their redfin guns, swinging their posture around and training their weapons at the doors they guarded.

“There.” I whispered, horror churning in my gut as the blood-curdling screams behind the closed doors subsided.

The end to those screams only ignited a rise in the ballroom.

Varkin started to insist the guests evacuate. Many did. Though many remained transfixed on those closed doors in a state of petrified curiosity.

The evacuees didn't make it far before the doors hiding the source flew open. The surrounding guards moved to take action but stalled, fingers frozen on their triggers.

Reks took a protective step in front of me, pulling me behind his back and holding me there.

Gasps and shrieks ricochet off the walls from the gruesome reveal. Several blackguards on the other side were sprawled out on the marbled floor, laying in pools of their own blood.

Only one person stood. Like a killer looming amongst his victims.

He stepped over a guard’s snapped, lifeless arm, showing no fear or recognition with each harrowing step closer.

In his arms, the orleizen carried a fossilized idol sculpted into a cobra. An inanimate object that somehow sucked the air out of the room, causing everyone who laid eyes on it to freeze. Like the last strangled heartbeat before a divine monster unleashed.

Mine did the same. In that last, agonizingly slow beat, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe, because that inanimate cobra felt alive underneath its solidified shell. Couldn’t breathe, because it was Nolan who carried it into the gala, leaving bloody bootprints in his wake.

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