Page 144 of Heirs of the Cursed

To find her.

Her sister, hertwin.

A shriek of terror echoed through the forest and horses neighed over the fearful sound of armor clashing against their mounts. Darcia nearly toppled over as she stood up. Someone was running rampant. She could feel rage, hatred, sadness . . . Emotions that didn’t belong to her.

And danger looming close by.

“Stay here,” she ordered Lykeios, who looked at her expectantly. “I’ll be back.”

The wolf growled in disapproval, yet she ignored him.

Without a second thought, Darcia broke into a run and allowed her magic and her heart to guide her forward.

40

Bellmare

Jehanne was gone.

Her best friend had departed at dawn, leaving no trace of where she was going except for a letter telling her not to worry and that she’d be back with news in a few days.

And so Naithea waited with an uneasy heart. She kept herself busy by inspecting the forbidden and magical artifacts that Dyron had guarded with his life. As objects that could be of great help if needed, she tucked an amulet into the pocket of her pants, as well as the necklace of the goddess Kazaris that had caught her eye the first time she’d entered the store.

On the second day, she found a dusty map of Lên Rajya and, without questioning about its hidden magic, spread it out on the rectangular table. She traced her fingers over the names of the cities and towns, feeling the texture of the ink beneath her fingertips. She lingered at the indentation that made up Evrethia: the City of Dreams, where the Door of Etmek that separated the two kingdoms stood. The gateway to her home . . .

On the map, Naithea evaluated all her options. She needed a real plan if she wanted to get out of Bellmare alive. Since Jehanne possessed no training, she had to be strong enough for the two of them despite her own fears.

On the third day, an intense sadness swept over her. She believed it was due to her sisters, for they’d never spent so much time apart. But Naithea hated herself for the true cause of that pain: Killian.

Her eyes filled with angry tears at how easy it had been for him to sneak under her skin, to make her care.

Make her love him.

She’d trusted him and given him everything: her past, her present. . . She had even wished for an impossible future by his side. Killian had kissed her scars, had admired and recognized them as marks of bravery. The remnants of his starry caresses still lingered on her skin, which she wished to erase forever.

Naithea covered her body to avoid looking at them, curling herself into a ball on the floor. Yet that night, she was unable to sleep. The wind blew outside the store, rattling the windows. When she heard a door bang, Naithea hurried toward the entrance, thinking her friend had returned, the coldness of the ground brushing her bare feet.

Through the glass, darkness greeted her.

She’d been patient, but she could no longer wait.

Ignoring her friend’s orders to remain hidden, Naithea took the dagger and hung it from her belt, along with a sword she’d found from one of the wizard’s hiding places. Only when she felt the reassuring touch of the blade against her lower back did she throw the cloak over her shoulders.

Naithea opened the door and the hinges creaked before stepping into the abandoned city. There were no merchants leaning against the stone walls, still drunk after a long night of gambling. Nor were there women walking along with their children as was usual.

Only a young boy, raising a shaky hand towards her. The same one who had led her to Dyron the day he’d shown her the poem.

“This is for you,” he said in a trembling voice.

Naithea frowned upon noticing what the boy held in his dusty hands.

A letter.

As soon as she accepted it, the boy skittered away from her, vanishing into the labyrinth of streets.

Her hands squeezed tightly around the paper upon recognizing her best friend’s handwriting. Naithea read the letter as fast as she could, over and over again.

I’ve found information about your sister’s whereabouts, but it’s too dangerous for me to leave hiding. I’ll remain in the brothel until we can meet again.

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