“Your written agreement.” He pulled his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. “Keep to yourself today. The rest of us have work to do.”
I expected him to disappear like Kost had, but instead he turned and stalked down an aisle of books, veering out of sight as the shelves guided him through the maze. His rigid back was just as affronting as his words, and I ground my teeth in annoyance.
At least I had my agreement. I unfolded it and scanned the meager lines:
This contract serves as an agreement between Cruor guild master Noc and Leena Edenfrell, Charmer. Noc hereby agrees that none of his men will fulfill the bounty associated with Leena’s life, so long as she provides four B-Class beasts to him after traveling to Ortega Key.
Signed,
Noc
My eyes narrowed. Thin on the details, but a contract nonetheless. At the very least, it would keep me safe from other assassins within Cruor, so long as I did my job. Which I planned to, because I sincerely hoped I’d never see them again. These murderers were cruel and intelligent and capable of horrendous things, and yet…
My gaze flickered to the man huddled over parchment and books. To the couple reclining in armchairs. And I thought of Ozias’s gentle smile. Calem’s easy banter. Their actions were so human.
But even humans could do terrible things. And that was a lesson I would brand into my brain if I had to. I needed to make it out of this alive—and with some blood for the Myad taming.
Six
Noc
The five of us stood on the outskirts of Wilheim, the preposterous white wall towering at our backs. The train station was packed with travelers. Their bags brimming with clothes and personal items, they stumbled on unsteady feet, shoes scraping against the beveled ground. Metal carts with cog wheels moved from one vendor stall to the next, delivering packages wrapped in linen cloths—no operator required.
Wilheim’s elite wouldn’t set foot in the station. With rail transportation free, all manner of patrons flocked to the train for travel. If wealthy Wilheimians ever decided to leave their sliver of paradise, they’d fork out the extra bits for a more luxurious, private means of transportation. Less opportunity to sully their appearances.
Leena eyed the closest stall and tilted her nose toward the fruitcakes and muffins tossing vanilla and citrus aromas into the air. Every new noise seemed to pull at her attention, and her wide eyes swallowed up the whole street and its occupants.
This was nothing compared to the Royal Bazaar. Beyond the train station and crammed cobblestone houses, as if it were the center of all eternity, stood the Violet Castle. Carved out of the lone mountain that had once been there, it was home to the royal family. Massive in size and hollowed out for use, the first floor was dedicated to the bazaar. I’d never forget those riotous colors. Gold-trimmed tents of burgundy, emerald, cerulean, and amethyst all competing for attention, wares from other lands glinting in the magic glow of the walls.
Leena’s stare followed my gaze to the castle. “It’s huge.”
“Indeed.” I turned my back on what had once been my home. The castle, the people, all of Wilheim. But the longing I’d felt for that life had disappeared with my dying breath. Even with the grace of Mavis, the First King’s sacrificed daughter, extending the life spans of Wilheim’s inhabitants, my family had long since passed.
Beside me, Kost pressed his lips into a fine line as he searched my expression. He was the only one who knew what I’d been before. Who I’d been.
“It’s not purple, though,” Leena mused to herself.
“Violet, not purple.” Kost glanced down his nose as if the distinction should have been clear to everyone. “When the first full moon of spring appears, the white stone transforms. A violet sheen covers the castle and lasts for a few days. It’s truly a spectacle to behold. Have you not seen it?”
She turned her back to Wilheim. “No.”
Slipping my hands into my pockets, I tossed her a sidelong glance, but Leena’s eyes were transfixed on something I couldn’t follow. Longing, perhaps. Did she know her own brethren were after her? Was she searching for a home she couldn’t go back to? Wilheim wouldn’t have been any better. To an outsider, I suppose the allure was undeniable. But to an insider… There was almost an air of constant panic lingering in the aura of the castle. As if the very