Page 82 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
I nod, and when Damia’s sure the next patrol has passed by, we dart across the grass. Sure enough, the god of the aesteri looms into view, his robes swirling around him.
“Shit,” Damia kicks the base of the god’s statue a few moments later. We both stare at the thick, freshly laid layer of brick behind the stone figure. “They must’ve found the hole in the hedge and worked out what happened. So much for using the captain’s escape route.”
I pat the god’s foot where Damia kicked it.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “She didn’t mean it, really.”
She stares at me. “Did you just say sorry to a statue?”
“To my patron god, actually,” I say, straightening my jacket. “I’d like to stay on good terms with him, if you don’t mind.”
She squints at me. “Shadows are Winnivus’s territory?”
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“Because light has to move through the air…so you do something to the density of it to refract the light and make shadows?” she guesses.
I struggle not to gape at her. “Yes. Most people can’t work it out.” Gods, is there anything this woman isn’t good at?
Besides being friendly, my brain supplies.
“Well, it’s not going to help us get anyone through this wall,” shecomments. “We’ve got to figure this out—I’m not going to let the captain down.”
There’s a note of fierce loyalty in her voice. It’s clear she’d do anything for the prince. I don’t know why I feel a little twinge of jealousy—it’s not like my own people aren’t similarly loyal to me.
“Should we keep searching this wall? Try looking for another weak spot?” I suggest.
She nods, and we keep moving along the edge, peering through the hedge where there are gaps to examine the wall behind. Eventually, we reach a portion where the ground has sunk a few feet thanks to time and loosening earth. The hedge and the wall beyond are a bit lower here.
“What about bringing them over it?” I ask, the shorter wall giving me the idea.
“It still pretty high,” she says skeptically. “Eleven, maybe twelve feet? They’d need some decent equipment to scale it, and then it’s about making sure they’re not seen climbing the other side. It’s just a regular city street behind here.”
“So we organize a distraction,” I say. “Then, with my shad?—”
I stop at the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Damia’s eyes widen, and I silently curse. This part of the grounds is too brightly lit for me to hide us with shadows; it’ll be obvious there’s magic at play. Instead, I grab Damia’s wrist and pull her to me, spinning her around and backing her up against the hedge.
“What are you?—”
“Kiss me,” I say, planting a hand on her leg where her skirts are raised. For once, she doesn’t argue, pressing her lips against mine.
There’s a moment when that’s all there is to it. A chaste peck, held in place ready for whoever’s about to come around the corner. But then Damia’s lips part ever so slightly, and I shift my own to adjust to their new position. Her hand lifts to my face, and she runs her finger along the bottom of my jaw until it comes to stop beneath my chin.
Her touch is like fire, trailing across my throat. I can’t help but breathe into her, and her tongue flicks out, tracing my lip. When I meet her bright greengaze, I see a question there I know I want to answer. Then we’re suddenly devouring each other, tongues clashing as they fight for dominance. Heat spreads down my neck and chest as she presses herself against me. My hand is still on her thigh, and I slide it higher, reveling in the smoothness of her skin, like silk beneath my fingertips. She answers with a moan that sends my blood rushing southward.
“What are you doing here?” The gruff voice of a palace guard snaps us out of it, and we pull apart. Damia hurries to tug her skirts down, and I step neatly back from her.
“Excuse us, my good man,” I say, offering him a cheeky grin. “We were just enjoying the grounds and we got…carried away.”
The guard looks to his patrol partner, and I don’t miss the smirk on his lips.Good. Let him think he caught some nobles misbehaving. Then his face hardens as he addresses us again.
“This area is prohibited! We’re on orders to report anyone trespassing.”
“Oh please don’t do that,” Damia says, clutching her hand to her chest in fake alarm. I don’t think she’s a good enough actress to have conjured up the flush across her cheeks, however. “I’d simply die of shame if this got out.”
The guards exchange another amused look.
“Then be on your way, and don’t come out here again,” he barks.
