Page 7 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

“Artem, this isn’t funny. Why is Torin underground in the tunnels? What is down there for him?” She looked from Artem to Gideon, who both stood quiet. “Answer me.”

Wind blew through the room, hot and heavy, bristling Gideon’s hair and touching his skin.

“Emara, you don’t want to know what Torin is doing down there. It’s not important,” Artem tried to reason with her.

“It’s not important? Are you joking right now? Of course it’s important; nothing that happens down there is legal and everything that happens is dangerous, so I think you will find it is extremely important to me. If he is making some kind of dark deal—”

“Look”—Gideon stepped towards her—“how about Artem and I go and give him a message from you?”

“Over my dead body are you going to see him without me. This is my fight.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“It might be your dead body if you get caught in a brawl in the fighting pits.”

Gideon let out a sigh and pinched his nose. “For fuck’s sake, Artem!”

“I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” Artem sighed, cringing.

“Yup.” Gideon let out a long breath.

“This is witchcraft,” Artem challenged and pointed at Emara, who had gone scarily quiet. “She is doing this to me. I am normally good at keeping secrets but Little Miss I Need to Know Everything just has a knack for ripping the secrets from my tongue.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “She’s hardly ripped the secrets from your tongue, Stryker.”

“The fighting pits?” Emara had paled. “The fighting pits?”

“Emara, let me explain.” Artem tried to block her exit to the door now too.

She batted one hand and Artem’s monstrous body was moved aside like a feather in the wind. He slammed against the wall, and her eyes pinned on Gideon. “Move out of my way, Gideon Blacksteel, or you are next.”

Gideon cursed under his breath and moved to the side as Emara blew the door open with one flick of the wrist. She peered over her shoulder and stopped as she left the threshold of her chambers. “You are either with me or you are not. And if Torin finds out you have let me go to the pits of the underground myself, I don’t fancy your chances. He is still my lead guard.”

Gideon cursed again, and Artem mirrored him as he pulled himself upright. They both gave each other a look that said the same thing—this was going to be a disaster—and followed her out the door.

The midnight black cloak was too heavy for this kind of heat, but as she required the hood to hide behind, it was non-negotiable, especially for where she was headed. The weight of the material pressed into her sweltering skin as threads of hair began sticking to her neck, weighing down her shoulders.

She took a breath—and wished she hadn’t.

The smell was repugnant, and this was only the opening to the underground tunnels. What would it be like under there?

Artem Stryker—her only working guard—walked towards the opening, where protectors stood in armour, strapped head to toe in weaponry. They were not Hunters, but guards of the Minister of Coin.

Of course he facilitated this place.

As Artem spoke in hushed tones to them, Gideon nudged her gently. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He moved to stand in front of her, and she was secretly glad that they had both decided to join her on her mission to speak with Torin. “An empress should not be seen in a place like this. We can turn back.”

Emara finally lowered her hood, and a dry breeze kissed her skin, but it wasn’t enough to take the edge of the stifling night air. “As the Empress of Air, I will decide where I should be seen and where I shouldn’t.”

Gideon’s lips clamped together, and he took a moment before he answered her. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to see him like this. He’s not in a good way, Emara. He is different when he’s down here.”

For a second, she wondered when Gideon had last seen him down here, and maybe that had been why Torin had been sporting all sorts of cuts and bruises yesterday when she had seen him heading to his chambers.

Emara lifted her chin, like Naya had taught her. “Then all the more reason for us to get him out of here.”

The silence was broken between them when the protectors opened the doors to the underground and Artem let out a whistle for them to move forward. Whatever he had said to get them in, Emara would never know.

“Keep your hood up,” Artem advised as he pulled at her hood, taking the first steps to descend into the darkness. “There could be creatures down here that would sell you to the Dark King for a shot of whiskey.”

A crash of nervous waves hit into Emara’s stomach, churning like an emptying bath.

---