Page 19 of Of Nightmares & Fire
“Perhaps you consider using a tone more respectful, and I would be more inclined to listen.” I say, lifting my chin so I look down my nose at him.
“And just who the hell do you think you are?” His voice cracks as he comes to a stop before me, crossing his arms and looking up to meet my gaze.
“I am Mavros Kahzal of Diemos, here to court the princess of Eathian. This is my brother Kyros. I think that it would be wise for you to stand down before you are put down,” Mavros says as he steps up beside me.
“Is that a threat to the king's guard?” The man scoffs.
“It’s a promise.” I growl as I step forward and cast him in my shadow.
“Well, now, now, boys…” Zinya steps forward, smiling wide and stealing all the guard’s attention with her looks. The woman is dangerous in more ways than one, and she knows how to wield her weapons. “I think what they mean to ask is if your men can escort us to the palace? We have been holed up here during the storm, and while Miss Ruby has been more than hospitable, the men are used to different conditions and are just rather on edge. I hope you can excuse their dog-like growling and posturing for dominance.” He melts a little more with every movement of her hands, every syllable spoken from her mouth. Like she were a siren of the Dead Sea, her song lures them into a spell. He is nodding before he even comprehends what he is agreeing to. I roll my eyes and strut right past him with Mavros on my heels.
The sun is already blistering. It radiates down on everything, causing the air to be thick and difficult to breathe. I grit my teeth as my eyes adjust to the brightness I step out into. The guards split, giving us a wide berth as we make our way to the stalls down the rundown street where we housed our horses.
Khol chuffs when I walk into the stable, his deep silver fur shining in the dimly lit stall at the end. Beside him, Eidola, Mavros’ white mare, shakes out her blonde mane with a whinny when he steps in behind me. The huge dune horses are as much in tune with us as our magick at times, and just like our magick, they have been bristling the moment we stepped foot over the border back into Eathian. Lifting my hand, I run it up the velvety, scarred nose of my steed in hopes of calming him.
“Shhhh, I know.” I lay my forehead on the flat between his eyes and continue to rub him down with my hand. “It’s hard for me to be back too.” Even though I hardly recognize the city, it clearly recognizes me. The energy just being here makes my magick hum, but I push that feeling away and focus solely on the purpose of my coming back here.
“What has gotten into you two?” Zinya comes to a stop with her hands on her hips. “Threatening the king's guard and making me openly use my magick?”
“They didn’t know.” Mavros rolls his eyes dramatically as he begins saddling Eidola.
“She's right. It can’t happen again. We need to focus.” I grunt as I pull the billet strap tight around the barrel of Khol’s chest. “No more magick. No more games.”
“Yea, yea… No more fun. Got it.” Mavros says under his breath, and I give him a sidelong look before guiding Khol back into the elements. His long lashes flutter mostly closed to protect from the tiny sand particles on reflex, even though it is right after a rain and the sun hasn’t quite dried the granules enough to allow them to become airborne in the light breeze we are granted.
Even on horseback, the short journey to the palace gates is long. The devastation the storm did to the town is nothing compared to the devastation on the faces of the people it affected. Some streets are still not usable because of the heavy water accumulation.At least they have more fresh water now.A commodity that they are always low on.
As we approach the gates, which I once thought I might never see again, Mavros stiffens at the same time I smell the stench that permeates the air. It's not the gates or where they lead that has him sitting a little straighter. It’s the display that is mounted on either side. The bodies that hung from a noose for all to see now burn where they have fallen. They don't burn in respect for the souls that they carried, but as a means to dispose of the bodies the souls once had.
Rage consumes me inside like a tempest as I do everything I can to remain unfazed by the sight on the outside. My fingers blanch as I squeeze the leather lead in my hand, and it's the only outward display of anger I can allow because just as soon as we breachthe gates, we are met with the gaze of King Connard himself. The throne-stealing murderer looks down on us from the interior balcony that overlooks the bailey.
“Come, you can dismount, and you will be shown to your room. Dinner will be served soon. It's best that you hurry along so you can get cleaned up.” An older gentleman says as he guides us to the stables along the northern-facing wall. He continues rambling on about how, as luck has it, the princess’ beauty is unmatched. Spewing things about the health of the kingdom. All lies, I’m sure. I can't pay attention, though, not when my mind is elsewhere. I begin pushing my magick out to look for the relic, and the first thing it finds is a familiar essence. Blue eyes flash into my mind like lightning, but I push it away. If she didn’t steal the relic, she doesn’t matter. The only thing that can matter from here on out is that damn relic. If she did steal it, it’s only a matter of time before our paths cross again.
Chapter sixteen
Astraea
Invisiblevise-likeclawsgripmy shoulders painfully tight, and a rumbling growl causes my body to tremble. The lasso of fire wraps around my body with a tightness I’ve only ever felt in my nightmares. The eternal darkness clouds everything. My mind, my eyes, the very air I breathe is heavy with it. I can’t help but strain my eyes to try and see through the endless chasm of shadows, searching, and begging them to show me why I am here, but every time is the same…Once the flashing white stops, the shadows take me into their embrace.
The growl changes to a deep, rough laughter, and the echoes of it cause the hairs on the back of my neck to prickleand stand on end. Sweat beads on my forehead and coats my skin with a sheen. I’m on the edge of consciousness, and I can feel my body trying to drag me back to reality.
“Sssssenkaaaaaa,” the word is whispered like a wicked secret, and it’s the last thing that wraps around my senses before I wake up with a gasp, wrenching upright. My eyes fly open, and my chest is rising and falling rapidly as I try to get my bearings on my surroundings. My door is shut, as are the heavy cream curtains. No light comes into the room other than the small sliver cast through the center of the room, where the moonlight sneaks in.
Exhaustion overtook me when Kellan left. I refused the food brought to me shortly after. The chambermaid left it on the table anyway in hopes I would eat, but the fact that it was her who brought it to me, and not Colette, just made things worse… I couldn’t fathom eating with the way my stomach was in knots over everything. I lay on my bed, too tired to even pull back the duvet. I curled into the smallest ball I could, and I cried. Only this time, sleep stole me away from my misery and thrust me into the nightmare.
This was new, though. I’ve never heard anything like words in these nightmares before. I’ve never not felt the thrashing of my body, or stood still enough to sense the hairs on the back of my neck prickling… My hand reaches up and wraps around the back of my neck on instinct, and a chill runs over my skin.
Unable to sit still any longer, I shuffle from the bed and head to one of the lofty, arched windows and pull the curtain back. What I thought was moonlight creeping into my room was actually thestart of an early morning sun, rising in the east, being filtered through the gossamer layer of fabric. A glint on metal catches my attention, and I watch as a caravan of soldiers approaches the castle. Only the soldiers are not my fathers; they bear no armor that I am used to seeing, but their war scythes look just as deadly as they catch the sun.
Taking a deep breath of the already dry morning air, I let out a heavy sigh.This is really happening. And now I don’t even have Cole here to help me through it.My room is on the eastern-facing part of the castle that looks out over the city, and the bailey is just below me. I have the perfect view of who comes in through the gates and the single road that leads to those gates. My heart rate spikes as I follow the path where the men are dismounting their horses within the castle grounds, out past the gates, and to the multiple groups that are making their journey this way.
My brows dip as I think about it. My father has prepared me for this, but it was supposed to take weeks. Courting would be formal dinners, as small groups with the royal family, and many trials that must be passed before the choosing ceremony. In the past, the princess had chosen her suitor, but my father, being the controlling bastard he is, will be the one to choose for me. He didn't care about tradition when he stole the kingdom in the first place. His rule is already not traditional. A king not born of royal blood has not ruled before him in a very long time. He has taken to making his own rules, bending the ones he does not like, and adding new ones as they fit his agenda.
A knock at the door pulls me from my encumbered thoughts, and I stride forward, cracking it open and looking out to find one of Kellan’s men. The one from yesterday that watched outside my door for him.
“Good morning, Princess,” he greets me with a nod of his head.
“Rhett, wasn’t it?” I ask, pulling the door open wide as an invitation that he does not take. I walk to the corner cart and pour a measure of water as my head begins to throb behind my eyes. He clears his throat, bowing lower.
