Page 62 of Heirs of the Cursed

“Precisely,” Conrad agreed, pointing to the keys with his chin. “Each of the keys has a special power. Kazaris’ key can alter the nature of daimonas, and Kuheia’s will retain their magic long enough for you to neutralize them. Still, you must be quick as, unlike the commander’s compass, these will force them out of control . . . If they aren’t protected by a powerful spell, of course.”

Harg looked up and nodded. “You’ve been of great help, Voreia.”

“Helping the kingdom is our duty. You must know that better than anyone.”

Our.

Darcia frowned. He hadn’t spoken just about himself, which meant someone else was involved. For whom was her stepbrother working this time?

As the Chaser tightened his grip on the key, Alasdair pulled her close. “It’s time to leave, gorgeous.”

“What? No!” Darcia whispered and stirred in his arms. “We have to find out what they are talking about! My people are in danger!”

“And so are our lives if we stay here. We’re leaving.”

Alasdair was too strong for Darcia to resist. She kicked and punched his arm, but only succeeded in hurting her knuckles.She surrendered after a few minutes, when she was able to make out her cabin in the distance. Darcia’s eyes began to close from exhaustion and the need for water became more pressing.

“I can walk by myself from here,” she stammered.

“I’m sure you can,” Alasdair scoffed, walking toward the entrance. He grabbed the knob and pushed, yet the door didn’t move. “It’s locked.”

“I left my bedroom window open.”

Alasdair tensed. “How on the Akhirat did you think you could climb through the window when you’re so drunk?” Darcia shrugged her shoulders as a way of response and Alasdair snorted. “Hold on tight, gorgeous.”

“You’re not thinking about . . .”

Before she could finish her sentence, Darcia was thrown onto Alasdair’s back. His hands gently but firmly secured her legs until they locked around his waist. With that, Alasdair began his ascent through the window’s railing.

“Are you out of your mind?” Darcia asked as she stifled a scream.

“When are you going to treat me like a normal person?”

He propelled himself upward and Darcia clung to him tighter.

“Have you considered that if I insult you, maybe it’s because you deserve it?” she sputtered, closing her eyes to stop the world from spinning.

“Maybe you can try with‘Hello, Alasdair. How are you? You look damn well’.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“See what I mean?” he asked, amused.

At last, the thief reached the window. He helped Darcia squeeze through and then set her down on the bed. As she played with the stained hem of her dress, she allowed herself to meet Alasdair’s gaze. There was a glimmer of containedamusement in his eyes, as if he wanted to tease her about her drunken state but held back.

“I’m going to get you a glass of water. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re not going to wander around my house!” she protested and hiccuped.

“I don’t see you in a position to stop me.”

“You’re complete . . .”

“Remember, Darcia:‘hello, how are you?’”

Darcia threw a cushion at him before he disappeared down the hall, stiffing a laugh.

The room spun in circles around her. Grunting under her breath, she plopped down on the bed. Her body felt like lead, and no matter how hard she tried to focus on something—anything—she couldn’t. She was so drunk she wasn’t even aware of her surroundings.

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