Page 2 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

Why was there never any fucking rum down here? It truly was a cesspit. It seemed cheap whiskey or ale that smelled like horse piss was all that was on the menu tonight.

Whiskey it was, then.

He knocked it back faster than the keeper had slid it to him. The man had about three teeth left in his mouth, and hair that had been oiled to his head swept down his dirty, fat, turkey neck. He was pale, as though the sun had never graced his skin, and his eyes were dark, like a nocturnal creature of the pits.

He really was the definition of unsightly.

A ding from the bell sounded, indicating that it was time for the fight to begin, and he welcomed it. He was here to fight until he couldn’t fight anymore. To fight until he couldn’t feel anything.

Torin turned away from the bar before flicking a coin over his shoulder to the old mole rat, and the crowd parted for him to clear a path to the ring. Swaggering closer to the fighting pit, he could still see the last fight’s blood in the ring.

He caught his opponent’s gaze, and a cruel grin pulled over Torin’s lips.

He would show no mercy. The gambling men of the pits never did like cowards; it was like flinging a broken bird into a nest of hungry wolves. They would be devoured. Savaged.

However, Torin had a feeling this Fae in the ring wouldn’t be so cowardly. He watched him move and strike like a trained war snake, practising his hook as he smiled at him. He was fast, he’d give him that, but Torin was faster.

Hearing the roars from the crowd, Torin could no longer make his opponent wait. He ducked under the rope and squared his shoulders, lifting his chin. The sounds of the crowd married with the bell and ignited violence in his veins. It sent an urge for sheer war through his soul. All that was left to do was picture his father’s face instead of the Fae’s so that each blow could mean something.

It was show time.

The blazing sun warmed the earth enough for Sybil Lockhart to tend to the Tower gardens in her bare feet. Her long jade-green dress blew gently against her creamy skin as she cut back the briar of the rose bushes. Her auburn hair lay curled against her back, shining wildly as the beams of sun hit flecks of fiery reds, vibrant oranges, and strawberry-golds.

As she worked her way along the garden, two hummingbirds swooped down and rested close to her on a tree branch. She smiled at them and dipped her head to acknowledge their presence before she began to include them in her song. Her melody was upbeat but contrastingly soft at the same time. It was wonderful.

Gideon’s heart fluttered in a way it shouldn’t when one was on duty. He placed a hand on his weapon belt, reminding himself that he was a guard—and only a guard.

He couldn’t deny that he liked having Sybil in the Tower. It was easy. She somehow fit into the madness, bringing peace and a comforting energy, especially these past few moons. The Empress of Earth had moved here to help with Emara’s recovery after the winter solstice ball, and from that point on, she had just existed within the walls, avoiding a return to her own home.

Gideon assumed it was because of the trauma that had happened to her family there and the murder of her sister by the Dark Army. Well…the late Supreme, Deleine Orinmore, had been the one to orchestrate the attacks. But he didn’t dare give thought to that wretched witch and what she had done to Emara. She was history, her name and legacy all buried in a shallow grave. Torin had made sure of that. Gideon thought that Sybil would need to return to her home at some point, and as her guard, he would travel with her. For as long as she needed the protection, he would be there.

Arlo Stryker was on duty too, and he stood under the safety of a huge willow tree across the grounds, melting into the shade with one hand on the hilt of his short sword. He had been in the Huntswood Markets last night, and Gideon could see the effects of the liquor on his features. The heat didn’t seem to be helping his recovery. His russet hair flopped onto his forehead limply, sticking down because of the temperature, and his cheeks were flushed.

Gideon wiped away a bead of his own perspiration that had started to make its way down the side of his temple. The guard tunic really wasn’t made for summer months in Caledorna.

“Look, Gideon,” he heard Sybil call over to him, and his eyes instantly found her again. “It’s a monarch butterfly.” She beamed a bright smile that stole his breath, and he walked forward, his eyes fixed on the small creature that fluttered on her index finger. “Isn’t she so beautiful?”

He swallowed. “Yes.” He smiled back at her. “The colours are remarkable.”

“Don’t you just love sunny months? Everything blooms.” Sybil let out a small giggle and lifted her finger into the air whilst the butterfly took flight. He watched as the small creature circled her, its wings majestically gentle in the summer breeze. The butterfly got so close to Sybil’s face, Gideon could have sworn it touched a kiss to the tip of her nose before it floated into the garden again, lost in all of the shrubberies.

“The creatures of the Tower love you.” Gideon nodded in her direction.

“And I them.” She popped a little shoulder up, and her eyes flickered shut for a second as the sun rays danced across her freckled face. “I love it out here.” She craned her neck back and let the beams glow down on her, warmth spreading like a pink ink in her cheeks. “I didn’t think I would like to live in a city, but these gardens are beautiful. It makes me feel like I have the best of both worlds.”

“Well, it helps that you keep them beautiful,” he said softly. “The gardens were always maintained, but with the Empress of Earth here, they seem to have come to life.”

Sybil’s eyes opened, finding his, and her lips parted to speak, but before she could reply to him, a man’s voice shouted, bursting the serene bubble she had created around them.

“Gideon!”

Gideon’s head swung to see Marcus Coldwell standing in his grey guard uniform, looking a little flustered. “I have to release you from your post.”

Gideon lifted his chin. “You are supposed to be sleeping, Marcus. You took the night shift.”

Marcus sighed, his broad chest puffing out. “Yeah, well, warriors don’t need sleep, apparently. Commander’s orders. He wants to see you in his office. Now.” Marcus gave him a wry grin and patted his shoulder.

Gideon sucked in a breath before he nodded to Sybil and bowed. Her lips pushed together into a polite smile, and for a fraction of a second, he wondered if there was a hint of worry in her vast eyes. But she said nothing as Gideon turned his back on her and left for the commander’s office, where nothing good was ever discussed.

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