Page 119 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“You came from across the great waters and were delivered by the sea wraiths, were you not? From whereabouts exactly, it does not matter. You are here now, and soon you will have the highest honor of standing before King Hadkiel.” His nostrils flare with disdain. “But not like this.”

“Is … good?” the servant asks tentatively, her eyes everywhere but on me.

I smooth my hand over the leather vest I found folded neatly on my bed, along with a tunic and breeches made of fine material, when I finished bathing in the adjacent chamber. “Yes. Thank you.” I wiggle my toes within the soft boots she also brought. It’s as if they were custom made for me, and far better than the dead sailor’s. “All I need are a few swords and daggers and I will feel like myself.”

Her gaze flips to mine for a moment before dropping again. I can’t be sure she understood me.

“You know, weapons.” I mock parry the air with my hand.

Her eyes brighten with understanding, and then she shakes her head. “Soldiers, yes. You, no.”

“I thought so.” I wander over to the gaping window. They don’t bother with glass panes here, though I can’t say I mind. The chill is welcome compared to the stickiness of the jungle. The dense fog has not relented, masking any view beyond my arm’s length. Still, given how long we traveled, I imagine we’re high up. My affinity can sense nothing but moss clambering on the stone facade. “What is your name?”

“Ilyth?” She says it as if it’s a question.

“Ilyth,” I repeat. “That is a pretty name.”

Her cheeks redden, telling me she understands that much. That or maybe it’s my smile. It’s the one reserved for Argon’s female servants. It’s gotten me into a lot of welcome trouble.

“Ilyth, do you know where they’ve taken Annika?” The guards shoved me into this modest chamber and locked the door before I knew what was happening. Now they wait on the other side—five of them, based on what I saw when Ilyth arrived.

She shakes her head, her stare blank.

“The female I arrived with.” I drag my hands down from my head, twirling my fingers in an attempt to mimic Annika’s long curls.

Ilyth’s mouth makes an Oh shape and she gestures at the wall.

“She’s there? One room over?”

She nods.

I lean out my window. The next one is some distance away, but I could probably make that jump, using the ledge for leverage. If I miss, though …

I would have heard Annika’s screams if anyone had tried to have their way with her, so they must be treating her well enough. An unexpected sigh of relief slips from me. For some inexplicable reason, I feel responsible for the Islorian princess’s well-being. Maybe because I’m the one who got her into this mess in the first place.

She pretends to be fearless, but I know she’s far from it. I can still hear her terror when she convinced herself they would burn us alive. The sound of it replaying in my head helped keep me awake in the wagon, which was a blessing, given I didn’t want to drift off with those leering soldiers hovering over her. A prisoner who looks like her would be difficult to resist for some of these “unsavory” people.

If I’m being honest, the feel of her warm body pressed against mine was far from my worst experience. In fact, it was pleasant. Not that I’ll ever admit that to anyone.

“Please.” Ilyth gestures at a chair. She holds a small jar in her hand.

Curious, I settle in.

Unscrewing the top, she collects a finger’s worth of the clear salve and gingerly spreads it on my injured cheek. “Will help.”

I inhale the scent of yeri. It’s a favorite plant among those without access to healers, to help mend minor scrapes and cuts. Many of the soldiers used to carry a jar with them. “Thank you.”

Her eyelashes flutter as she meets my gaze before averting.

“Can you tell me about Azokur? What is it? What does that mean?”

“Uh … In sky.” She points out the window. “Night with two …” She searches for her next word.

But I’ve found it for her. “Moons.” Of course. Hudem just passed in our realms; it only makes sense it would exist here as well. They have another name for it, though. “And what happens here on Azokur?”

She stalls, and I can’t tell if she’s struggling with her words or how much she should divulge. “The change.”

“The change. Who changes? How?”

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