Page 70 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
His broad smile was infectious as he caught her, whispering something into her ear. What was he doing here?
Behind him, the mortal princess looked as if she might be sick. She watched the show of affection in what seemed like the same way I did, but there was something that simmered beneath the surface, rising as the water bubbled.
To my right, one of my crew members approached. No, not my crew member. They felt wrong. Freeing my blade, I lifted it to the throat of the very female who had been watching us from the dock. If a smile could tear apart a world, then this female’swould. She was terrifying for some reason. A sense of foreboding dripped from her, like the future itself stared me in the eye.
“Hello, Captain Perdita Harligold,” she said, her mouth moving so slowly it was impossible not to understand. A chill crawled up my spine, shivers following in its wake. “We better hurry, we have company.”
With that, she reached into the pocket of her trousers, grabbed a piece of paper, and slapped it against my chest. Then, to my utter bewilderment, she gripped my wrist and shoved it away. I could have killed her; punished her for attempting to board my ship and tell me what to do. Why did I not?
My hand caught the paper as it began its descent to the deck. Flipping it over, I found coordinates.
Lian’s hand wrapped around mine as I made to crumple the paper. Looking up, I was met with the most honest expression she had ever given me. Determination hardened her face, jaw ticking as she let her gaze roam my soul.
Bek was at my side immediately, her hand casing Lian’s.
“That is Nicola Salvatore. It looks like your time for transporting goods has not yet expired,” Lian offered, her lips slow.
Underworld below, we were fucking doomed.
Chapter Thirty
Stassi
“Torrel, get as close to the forest as you can without actually entering it!” I shouted to my girl. She turned her large head my way, the nearly white light of this world’s sun making her pink scales seem like they were aglow. Looking at me as if she disagreed with the order, Torrel rolled her eyes and then began her descent.
I held on tightly as she circled the forest below. The dark and eerie quality of it reminded me of home, strangely enough. This was most definitely Padon’s work. I would’ve known even if Asta hadn’t written it out.
We slowed as we approached the ground. Bordering the coastline, a village lay in pieces. White cottages and cobblestonepaths were cracked and stained in old blood. Not too far there was what seemed to have once been a market, wooden booths bleached by the sun sitting in wait. Past it all loomed a black castle-like structure. It seemed to shout at me, warning off the intrusion.
When Torrel landed, my bones shook not from the impact, but from the death that seemed to coat the air.
“Excellent landing,” I said, patting her scales before standing and descending her spine. She remained perfectly still, waiting until I jumped off the tip of her tail to sniff at the air. In her lifted claw, Milo let out small roars, practically begging to be set loose.
“Milo, I don’t know if it will be safe for you to roam. Please, for once you need to listen to me. Do not stray.” With that, Torrel released her drake. And, like most young dragons, the little menace bolted. He made his way to the very edge of the forest, where the ground and the trees faded to black.
“Milo, get back here!” Torrel shouted, leaning forward to grab him. But just as her teeth caught one of his tiny spiked wings, I felt something in the air shift. Magic was near. A lot of it.
There was a beauty to raw magic. At its core, it was like clay, ready to be molded into anything. It could become whatever one needed it to be, though it often had its preferences. My magic preferred to handle Sin and Virtue, but it still sang to me when other magic was near. It still wished to be free to hunt the familiar tune of Sun and Moon that seemed to softly hum from within the confines of the forest itself.
“Torrel, can you feel that? Feel her?” Though I knew she had to have been able to feel it, I still found myself surprised when her wide pink eyes darted towards the trees just to the right of us.
“Yes. She waits,” Torrel said through clenched teeth as she held onto her son.
Milo was crafty though, and he used her distraction against her. A laugh threatened to escape me as the drake used his hind leg to kick his mother in the tooth. Her grasp released as she hissed in pain, and Milo beat his wings desperately, looking more like he was falling than flying. Still, he was through the trees in moments.
Both Torrel and I took off in a sprint, dashing into the forest to stop him from getting hurt. Torrel made it barely ten feet into the forest before she got stuck. “I cannot break through these trees without potentially hurting him or you. Find my son and I will watch for the empress!”
Nodding, I continued on, running far faster than normal and begging Eternity to spare the drake. If Milo died, I would kill Bellamy in retribution for not taking the baby dragon.
Shoving those thoughts down for a later time, I honed in on the forest around me. Creatures could be felteverywhere,though Padon’s magic was not nearly as strong as I thought it would be. It was like listening to someone speak while your hands were over your ears. Muffled.
Stella’s magic, on the other hand, only grew stronger, dancing to the beat of my heart as I searched and searched. When I caught sight of broken branches and heard a tiny roar, I darted to the right. Jumping through a small clearing, I was met with a jaw-dropping sight.
Before me sat a modest cottage, black vines creeping up the walls and smoke escaping the chimney. The bricks appeared to be faded over time, now shades of white and gray. Just in front of the door, a female bent down, rubbing Milo’s dark belly as he rolled on his back with his forked tongue hanging from his open mouth.
Even if she had masked her dual-toned hair, I would have known it was her. Stella. The female who practically raised me after my mother died and my father took his life in his grief.She had held me when my magic struggled to absorb the seed of Sin and Virtue. After, when my too-young body acclimated to becoming a high demon, she taught me to use and manage so much magic. She sang to me when I had nightmares, matched my clothes to her youngest daughter’s, and stood up for me in council meetings. Every day she told me she loved me, that she cherished me like a daughter.
Staring at her now felt surreal. Like coming home and finding it changed.
