Page 5 of Heir of Illusion

Confusion wrinkles my brow as I turn to face him again. “You don’t feel that?”

He shakes his head, sparking a thousand questions on the tip of my tongue, but they disappear as my gaze is drawn back to the door. The presence is getting stronger with each passing second.

They’re moving closer.

“Are you expecting anyone?” I demand.

“No,” he promises, but the blood draining from his face tells a different story.

I remember how he was pacing upstairs, how restless he sounded. And when he came down, he was fully dressed. Strange for this time of night…

Fuck.

Sparing him a seething glare that promises violence, I wrap myself in an illusion. The feeling of a thousand tiny needles pricking my skin settles over me as I disappear from sight. Envy burns in his eyes as he stares at the spot where I was just standing, but I don’t have time to enjoy it. Hurrying past the display counters, I tuck myself into the back corner and whisper silent prayers to the Fates. No one can know I was here tonight. Revealing my intentions to Darrow was already a risk. If this conversation got back to Baylor…

I keep my gaze on the front door, waiting for the source of this strange presence to appear. Unease claws at the lining of my stomach as the room begins to dim. I tell myself it’s only a cloud passing over the moon, but then darkness begins creeping up the walls. It covers the windows, leaving only a sliver of light peeking through the glass panes.

Inky shadows slip through the cracks underneath the door as wisps of black smoke push deeper into the room. My heart stutters as they slither out and take the shape of snakes. Their crimson eyes seem to simmer as they turn their heads back and forth, searching for something.

Holy Fates.

Crouching down, I curl into a tight ball and make myself as small as possible. From my new angle, I can no longer see the front door, but I hear it creaking open. A few moments later, heavy boots thud across the hardwood, taking slow, steady steps. I can’t see the newcomer, but I still sense their power. It’s thicker now that they’re in the room—a crushing weight ready to smite any enemy. I have no idea what sort of creature they are and no interest in finding out.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.”

The man’s voice is rich and deep, sending shivers down my spine.

“Yes, I apologize for the mess, my lord.” Darrow, who is still in my line of sight, glances down at the evidence of my outburst apologetically. “I meant to have it cleaned up before you arrived. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

His words are steady, but it’s clear from the lack of condescension in his tone that Darrow is nervous. The only time I ever hear him this accommodating is with the king.

“No matter,” the stranger replies. “I won’t be here long.”

Marble shards crunch under his boots as he steps forward into my field of vision. Even in the dim light, I can make out his shape. He’s tall, staring down at Darrow from a few inches above him. He wears a heavy cloak, black with a fur trim. Despite most of his body being hidden, I can tell he’s broad. His dark hair is pushed back, but there’s not enough light for me to make out his face clearly.

“Of course.” Darrow nods stiffly. “I looked into the matter you inquired about. I’ll go get my notes.”

He starts to retreat to the backroom, but one of the snakes slips around his neck like a rope. His mouth opens wide as his fingers reach for the shadow, desperately trying to pull it away.

Horror fills me as I watch the ugly scene, replaying the countless times my collar has tightened. Silently counting my breaths, I focus on taking one after another to keep the panic at bay.I’m not suffocating,I remind myself. Still, my fingers mimic Darrow’s, but both of our actions are futile.

“No need for that,” the stranger says. “I’m sure you can summarize it for me.”

Darrow responds with an unintelligible noise.

“Ah, my apologies.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Let me loosen that for you.”

The shadows remain around Darrow’s throat, but they must ease their pressure a bit. He coughs several times before he is able to speak.

“R-right, of course,” the enchanter stammers. “I-I can do that.”

A fleeting, irrational spark of jealousy hits me. It takes me ages of verbally sparring with Darrow to convince him to do anything at all, yet this man has him cowering in subservience. These wayward thoughts are pushed aside as my attention snags on one of the shadow snakes slithering by the door. If I were to make it that far without being noticed, could I get past the strange creature unscathed? A shiver coils down my spine at the thought of trying.

“I spoke with one of my informants,” Darrow says, sounding raspy from the strain. “He was recently reassigned from a low-level job on the wall-”

“The wall?” that deep voice cuts him off.

“The one that surrounds the palace grounds,” Darrow explains quickly. “He was one of the guards that used to patrol it.”

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