Page 149 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

A ringing sounded off in Loren’s ears. He dropped his gaze to the fine wood grain beneath his fingers. Tracing them with his eyes did nothing to settle the steady beat of rage building in his chest. Without looking up, he asked, “What of Lady Nightingale?”

Another strained silence, then, “Missing. A company is tracking her now.”

Missing. Alek Nightingale had sworn his allegiance to him and broke it in the next breath. He had died a traitor and sentenced his wife to suffer his shame. Indeed, he would find Emillie, and she would pay for Alek’s crimes.

“You bring that treasonous bitch to me the moment she is apprehended,” Loren hissed, lifting his gaze slowly.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” The soldier looked sick to his stomach. As he should—alone with the wrathful King of Valenul was a precarious place to be. “May I be of any further service to you?”

Loren ground his teeth and pressed off the desk to stand at his full height. “Waer has been under the direction of Nightingale for quite some time. His missives have been dangerous and may have secretly instructed the Lords of the Province to act as he has. Until further notice, Waer is to be considered a threat to Valenul. Every Lord and his family is to be eradicated immediately. I will see to new appointments. Any retaliation is to be a call for war.”

The soldier bent at the waist. “It will be done, Your Majesty.”

“Dismissed.” Loren waved his hand, and the soldier disappeared, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Ariadne had better return before her sister was dragged before him. If he got his hands on that bitch without his future wife to protect her, Loren was not certain what he would do to make her pay.

Death would be a mercy.

Chapter 35

Ariadne and Azriel followed the river north of Algorath without stopping through the day. The Noct around her neck and Azriel’s vigilance kept her safe from the sun’s rays. When she asked if they would stop, he reported back that Razer insisted on continuing. It would be safer, after all, to get to the rendezvous point and not give the mages the chance to catch up.

Aside from brief exchanges, they did not speak much as they flew. Hard winds swept their words away, much like when Ariadne and Kall had flown Bindhe into the desert. Instead, Azriel kept his arm wrapped tight around her, burying his face into her hair as though to remind himself she was, in fact, real. What had happened to them both since their separation had been too much to yell over the rushing wind.

All three of them flew with empty bellies, following Bindhe’s directions to where the escaped prisoners had been taken. When they landed at the edge of the Keonis Mountains at dusk the following evening, Phulan and Kall stood ready outside a hut and several canvas tents surrounding a fire pit.

In one great leap, Azriel dismounted, his knees almost buckling from the impact. Ariadne’s heart lurched as he swayed, and Kall shifted forward, ready to grab him should his legs fail. To her relief, he stayed upright, then turned to her and held out his arms. In a less-than-graceful slide, Ariadne joined him on the ground, her legs and rear aching from sitting so long on Razer’s scales.

“Eat,” Phulan demanded as soon as they turned to her, shoving bowls of her fresh sauce laden with vegetables, lentils, and rice into their hands. A piece of her airy bread sat at the edge.

Instantly, Ariadne’s mouth watered. She accepted the bowl with a rumble from her stomach but did not eat right away.

Azriel stared at the food for a long moment, his red eyes blank as though not comprehending what it was he held. He used the bread to push the vegetables around in search of something, and upon deeming it edible, scooped up his first tentative bite. As he chewed, silver rimmed his eyes. He closed them and tilted his head away as though ashamed by his reaction to something as simple as food.

Ariadne’s heart cracked. She took in his gaunt face and too-thin limbs. Though she could not see beyond the shirt hanging loose on his body, she was certain sharp bones stretched his cobalt skin taut.

Shoulders shuddering from contained emotion, Azriel lowered himself to the ground, wincing as the movement pulled at whatever wounds he had incurred during the fight to escape Algorath. He held the bowl outstretched as he tucked his face into his arm and let out a long, low cry.

She bit her lip and looked at Phulan and Kall, silently begging them to help him.

But Phulan shook her head and said in a low voice, “He needs you. We’ll give you time.”

Kall did not move right away. His jaw flexed as he watched his friend crumble, those red eyes burning with hate for someone now turned to ash. There was no more enemy for him to fight. No one he could confront to make things right on Azriel’s behalf. It was not until Phulan laid a hand on his arm that he looked to Ariadne, inclined his horns in a silent apology, and followed the mage back to the campfire.

Once alone, Ariadne settled onto the ground across from her husband. She set her bowl of food beside her and pried his from his fingers, placing it next to her own. Still, he did not look up. She moved forward, sliding her cheek into his now-empty hand and holding him there when he tried to pull away.

“Look at me, alhija,” she said quietly, using the dhemon term to ensure she got his attention. Each breath burned in her lungs. Gods, what had they done to him?

Slowly—oh, so slowly—Azriel obeyed. He turned his head toward her, carefully maneuvering his horns around his own arm, and let out another quiet sob. His eyes scanned her face with disbelief despite the fact that he had not let her go throughout their entire flight.

Ariadne added more pressure to his hand. “I am here. I am alive and well, and I am not going anywhere.”

“I remember everything,” he said, each word coming out in shaking gasps. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for it all. You were there, and I…and I…I didn’t know. I thought it was you.”

“No,” she said firmly, curling her fingers around his hand, forcing him to keep it in place when he tried to withdraw. “You did nothing wrong.”

He shook his head. “Then I thought you were—”

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