Page 56 of Of Nightmares & Fire
“No? Interesting.” The man in the middle continues, his eyes not on me but over my shoulder to where I feel Astraea trying to peer around me. “You see, word has it, you have yourself quite the prize. One with a pretty heavy price on her head.” The alarm rings out as the smiley fucker starts his cackle again, rubbing his hands together in front of him.
“I really am grateful now that I’ve seen her with my own eyes.” He takes a step forward, those eyes hungrily looking to devour what is mine, and a surge of energy courses through my skin. My shadows tremble as they come alive, writhing, waiting for me to expel them. “Oh come on, have some fun… aren’t you going to ask why, Hawk?” The alarm bells are now fully blaring with the use of the name of my persona. I look again to the stoic one and back to the man in front of me.
“Why?” I bite out. Trying to bide time for the storm I feel building inside of me.
“I’m grateful they just want her to be returned alive… they never said no touching, and fuck, just a brief look at her has my cock standing at attention.” He doesn’t have to say more. Something in the sand calls to my shadows. They meld together, charging me with more than enough magick. What was once an empty reservoir is filling. I can feel it vibrating through me with my connection to the sand at my feet.
Right as the center man steps forward again, I throw my hands out at my sides, splaying my fingers wide as shadows leap from my body. The shadows dive deep into the sand, and a blast so strong it carries the sand several stories above our heads, swirling around in a cloud. Bodies fly backward in an explosion of power. Embers crackle and spark throughout in a glittering black vortex of smoke and sand. The Scylia begin to rise and scatter out as the sound of thousands of fluttering wings fills the air with a buzzing noise. Multiple pirates unsheathe their swords.
“Stay behind me.” I say to Astraea as I square myself for an attack.
The laughing man runs toward me first. His Tsalalerian steel blade gleaming with a reflection of the fiery embers, and his smile now turned into bared teeth as he roars with the blade held high. The cackling joker doesn’t even make it to me, though. I wield the sand to take out his feet. He trips, and the sand swallows him whole. The last sound to come from him is a muffled cry as the sand fills his mouth and suffocates him as he disappears into his sandy grave.
“HAWK!” A familiar voice cuts through the chaos and sends anger to pulse through my whole body, especially when I feel Astraea pull at my tunic from behind.
“That’s him. From the tavern, he warned me of the dangers in the desert. He—” A deafening roar silences everyone as all eyes turn toward the beast who crests one of the low dunes in the distance. My magick falls; the sand that was being wielded like a weapon falls from the sky like rain, just as the last halo of light from the sun illuminates the ferocity of the monstrous creature. Several Scylia take off on horseback; others begin to run toward the dune caves behind them, telling the remaining to fall back. But one thing I know for certain is if that manticore decides it wants to go after anyone, itwillsucceed in stopping its prey.
There has been only one man I have heard of who fought one of these beasts and lived to tell the tale, and he was the king of Eathian. Not Astraea’s father, butmine.
Chapter thirty-nine
Astraea
Thepaintingfromthelibrary in the palace, which I have spent hours at a time daydreaming of over the many years I have spent prisoner of the monotonous life of a kept princess, comes to life right in front of me. I am frozen with fear and awe. My heart runs as wild as the storm of magick that surrounds me, but I hear nothing. Everything slows as the chaotic sounds of wind howling, men shouting, and the shrill sound of blades being unsheathed are muffled, and time slows. I can see Kyros’ mouth moving, but I hear nothing as his face strains with his shouts. Something is tugging at me; my body jerks forward from where I stand, but I’m in a state of paralysis, eyes locked with the monster of legend.
Leathery wings bunch and then flare wide as the creature opens its giant maw. Three rows of deadly sharp teeth are glaringly bright in the low light before the stars come out and cast the night aglow. The sound of its roar vibrates my bones, but still I step forward. The urgency in Kyros’ eyes changes as he tries to pry my gaze away, pleading for me to face him. Desperate for me to come with him; to hear him. I blink, and with a rushing sound, like water finally coursing through a pump, the chaos comes back into focus. I finallylookat him. I now see the arched ring of fiery shadows he has behind him, but I shake my head.I can’t leave, not now.
The creature steps forward with a rattling growl, the curving tail of a scorpion coming into view, as the flames from the portal cast his powerful deep ochre feline form into a casing of red. His fur gleams like ancient copper. He is breathtaking.
“Wait,” I hear my own voice, but as I take a step forward, Kyros wraps an arm around me, forcing my body to turn toward him.
“Shula, I need you to hear me. We need to get out of here. If that beast charges… We are both dead. If I run out of power before I can portal us out of here? We may be dead anyway. But please, let me get us out of here.” Kyros’s eyes flick behind me in worry, and he yanks me toward him, protectively shielding my body with his just before the manticore launches into the sky. It nosedives back toward where I stood only a moment before. He lands with a flare of black sand spraying out around him, but the sound of his jaw closing around flesh and bone is what has me recoiling. A snapping sound claps behind me, and the glow cast from the portal sputters out, plunging us into darkness as the sun finally dips below the horizon.
Five of the Scylia face the beast, weapons drawn and muslin fabric billowing out around them as the wind begins to pick up. They circle him like he isn't the predator but the prey. His strong muscles bunch as he anticipates an attack from one of them. His powerful tail rearing back for a strike with the deadly barbed end. A war cry echoes through the air from one of the men as he charges forward with his blade drawn. The lethal tail comes down faster than anything I have seen. The Scylia pirate’s screams are silenced from one breath to the next, as he is pierced through his chest with a sick squelch of flesh and blood and the distinct cracking sound of snapping bones.
Everything blurs—too fast to track, too sudden to stop. The Scylia move in a vicious synchrony after the manticore’s attack. Their deadly sharp blades aimed to cut down the magickal being who drew first blood. My heart seems to pause its beating, the moment in time slowing to a standstill. I look at Kyros, my eyes pleading. I cannot see this animal killed. I scream in tandem with the beast’s furious roar. The sound ripping from my throat in a savage peal. That lasso of fire I’ve only ever felt in my nightmares wraps around me, squeezing so tight I feel as though my lungs will burst from the pressure.
“Save him.” I scrape out, pressing my hand to the spot just below my heart. His voice is barely audible, but I hear Kyros curse at my side before his magick comes alive, uncoiling from his arms and striking out like snakes at the Scylia. Half of them are flungbackward, while one is torn into by the claws and fangs of the fierce creature of terror. I fall to my knees in the black sand and helplessly watch as Kyros extends his blade out and fights alongside the creature that legends only tell of its brutality. It’s fearsome, bloodthirsty savagery. Blood sprays across both man and beast, coating them with the essence of life. But instead of terror, all I can see is art. Specifically, the art in the library in the palace. I stared at it for most of my life. I always had the idea that they were fighting each other. Man versus beast, but here and now, they work together to cut down the evil that wants to bring harm to us both.
When it's just Kyros and the manticore left, they turn in unison, facing each other. Kyros’ chest heaves with exertion; the beast's maw hangs wide. Blood drips and sinew strings limply from its teeth. The beast is the one who looks away first, its bright blue eyes almost a mirror of my own, clashing with mine. I don’t feel fear when I look at him; instead, something confusing takes over. Something that I realize was there all along. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I had an undeniable urge to go to the beast, as though it was beckoning to me. A glimmer of movement in my periphery has my eyes widening, my heart leaping from my chest. Kyros’s blade glints in the low-hanging moonlight, poised to strike.
“No.” The word comes out as a whisper, but before his blade comes striking down across the neck of the beast, the manticore does something neither of us expects. It bows its massive head. The hair from its mane falls across its eyes, its deadly paws, lined with blade-like claws, stretched out in front of him. Kyros stalls, turning to look at me at the same moment the manticore’s blue eyes flash.
Standing, I push my feet to move through the loose, deep sand kicked up from the fighting. It's a struggle to even get my footing. As I move closer to the two, Kyros growls low in his throat.
“Shula, stay back!” Kyros says through his teeth, panic leaching through his tone.
“He’s not going to hurt me. He won’t hurt either of us.” I say. I don't know why I feel this way. Everything about the creature says otherwise, but the way he seemed to bow, submitting before us instead of turning and attacking us too… Something in his eyes… I slowly reach my hand out in front of me. An offering of peace. Of understanding. Something I have so rarely been shown, I offer the creature a piece of myself.
“Shula!” Kyros hisses in warning, but I don’t care. A deep rumble comes from the manticore’s throat, but it's not the growl at which it aimed at the Scylia but more of a purr. It extends its neck, and my breath catches as my hand touches the center of its forehead, between the root-like curved horns on its head. A slow smile spreads across my face, but Kyros is a statue of indecision standing to the side, watching this sort of connection I feel forming under my palm.
“Thank you.” I say, and when his large head lifts and his eyes come level with mine, he chuffs, looking at Kyros and then back to me before taking a step back and launching into the sky with a powerful downward thrust of his leathery wings. I can't help but watch as he disappears into the night sky with a smile on my face.
“Incredible.” Kyros says, pulling me out of my state of awe. I slowly look over to find him only staring at me. Heat rises into my cheeks, and I wring my hands in front of myself.
“Thank you for saving him. For protecting us both.” I say, and he plunges his sword into the sand before storming the distance between us and slamming his lips to mine.
“You fucking drive me mad! Why would you put yourself in danger like that?!” He growls into my face, his hands bracketing my face as my own grasp his wrists. “You are insufferable. A constant pain in my ass.” His lips are bruising as they claim mine again, not allowing me to respond. “All of this would be easier if you were… not so different.” His hands are frantic as they grip my face, keeping me pinned to him. I can’t breathe anything but the words he forces on me. Words that are confusing but also making my head spin with a drunken feeling of needing more.
