A Trickle of Soulfyre

Chapter 32: Dereliction

It felt as though all Nash ever did was wait around for his team. If it wasn't Anesse losing track of time and delaying negotiations with another clan, it was Agents G'vat and Kilg who had disappeared without any explanation.

Nash looked at his wristwatch. It was 7 p.m., and there was no sign of his protectors since they escorted him down to the river for his evening bath. They had waited behind the oak tree, as usual, not saying a word to each other, which was rare.

Nash took a forkful of spaghetti, considering it while he lost himself in the fresh flavours of the tomato and basil paste. He didn't know what to make of the stiffness between the agents. His secrets were an open book for them to read, but they kept their lives behind locked doors.

The moonlight falling through the glass ceiling glowed through Anesse's blonde hair where she sat across from Nash, spearing a cherry tomato with a fork and bringing it to her mouth. Just having the two of them sitting on one end of the long, rectangular table reminded him of the days before the ECISI protectors had been assigned to the palace.

It felt like weeks ago. Even though it had only been days since they arrived, Nash had gotten used to Agents G'vat and Kilg's steady presence, the analytical secret agents to balance the politics-savvy advisor and clueless king.

Agents Kilg and G'vat could look after themselves. That was the only reason Lord Dundor would request that they look after Nash. All the same, he couldn't ignore the fear that something had happened to them, that whichever vicious clan was hunting him had gotten the better of his protectors simply because they stood in their way.

Even Anesse seemed to have observed Nash's icy dread, perhaps even shared some of it. She was quieter than usual that day. It unsettled Nash to see his steel-nerved, unruffled advisor only a fraction more composed than he was. He relied on her to steady himself. What would happen if she faltered?

Nash couldn't bear to think about it. "So, what's on our schedule for tomorrow?" he asked, trying for a light tone.

He twirled another helping of spaghetti around his fork, glancing at Anesse while she swallowed her cherry tomato.

"I'm not sure." She blinked, rubbing at her eyes. "I'll have to look at the schedule before I go to bed tonight, and I'll update you on its contents tomorrow morning." Her usually lively blonde curls hung limply over her shoulders.

Nash wondered whether he was just looking too deeply into nothing or whether something really had changed since Anesse's meeting with the Phouka earlier.

He frowned. It wasn't like Anesse not to know what she had planned for the next day. Perhaps she was worried about something. Perhaps it had been bad news from the Phouka that she was reluctant to break to Nash.

"Are you all right, Anesse?" Nash took a sip of his red currant wine, trying not to think of how it was the same red as his blood that his enemies would drink if they got the chance.

"I'm fine." Anesse gave him a close-lipped smile.

Her eyes regained their familiar focus as they fell on Nash, but he couldn't shake off the sense that someone other than the Anesse he knew stared back at him. He hadn't been able to since yesterday, even as he tried to convince himself that couldn't be the case.

"But I think I should be asking you that, Nash." With a subdued smile, Anesse reached for her napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. "You're the one whose life is threatened by some vicious people from another clan." Her forehead creased in a frown, turning her back into that advisor who cared about Elvenland as much as Nash did.

"I'm all right," said Nash because he didn't want to admit to anything else. To do that was to invite the weakness he was trying so hard to hide.

What did it matter if everyone around him was trying to be strong for him if he couldn't do it for himself? Was there anything more valuable than strength in a realm where weakness was an opportunity for his enemies?