Page 24

Story: Shadow and Smite

Until noon? Tomorrow? I tried not to bristle.

His recent offers, to help me find the Firewolf and to guide me to the merchants’ dock, were genuinely useful. And I hated him for it.

While in his cabin, it had been easy to reframe his character in the worst possible light. The deceitful Prince of Shadows, foster child and pawn of the Starlit King. He had deceived me, led me astray, and created the circumstances that led to my Brand. Even now, he lorded the power of his antidote over me.

It annoyed me that he was helpful. It irritated me that, for a moment, I believed his intentions were anything but selfish.

With his shadows and my scarf, we felt thick as thieves. An exiled prince and a bastard princess, sailing into Port Saundyrs—it had far more poetry than it should have.

Soon I would see Rhett. I had sent my merchant friend only a brief message through our paired speaking stones, just enough to establish a rendezvous point. I wanted to explain my situation in person.

Maybe Rhett could make sense of this. Or at the very least, I could spend the night at his apartment, somewhere safe and away from Zayne. I needed space to pull myself together.

The docks of Port Saundyrs were vibrant, distractingly, delightfully so. As sunset turned to dusk, the evening’s revelry grew. Music flowed from every establishment, mixing on the cobbled streets.

Steady fae lights illuminated rows of several-story apartment buildings as we crossed through a quieter district and toward the main boardwalk.

Fae and sprites, trolls and satyrs, shifters and humans. Together, they crowded the stalls, shouting as they shopped. Restaurants overfilled, their seating pouring into the streets. Street performers played at every corner.

It was merry. Enough to make me smile.

Rhett said he would meet me at The Orchard. The pub was easy to find, central and brightly colored. Trees ascended through the structure, and ripe fruits—oranges, apples, avocados, and cherries—dripped from the sides of the building. Enchanted fruit, free of disease and rot.

“This way.” I pointed, leading Zayne to the pub. He’d been quiet throughout the walk, watchful and aware. He stayed the right distance away, close enough to have my back but respecting my personal space.

The trees grew from within the pub, their trunks providing a framework of pillars. A fiddler played a vibrant tune from the stage, filling the pub with a jubilant air. A few couples danced. And one of them…

Ah, there’s Rhett.

He danced with a younger male, laughing in his embrace. His feet tapped to the speedy rhythm, as graceful as the day I met him.

He looked so handsome, so comfortable with his magic at his beck, like Valterra had dulled him. His blond hair lifted with life, and his tall, muscled build became somehow more graceful. Here, he positively sparkled.

The sight of him, the pull of the song. They invited me. My nightlife had always been a distraction. Here was no different, and the energy lured me closer to the dance floor. I approached on instinct, drawn to the release.

Rhett saw me and gasped. He said something to his partner and ran to me. He pulled my hand, grasping it between his. “You made it!”

It was such a relief to see him, to hear his voice. I blinked back tears as we hugged. He lifted me, spinning me around in a dance that wasn’t one.

Back on my feet, I tried to answer, but a woman joined the fiddler. She began to sing, her voice overpowering all conversation. “Once, the sea sought a lover, and so she bedded the sky.”

I pulled at his wrist. “We need to talk,” I tried to say. He understood well enough, waving farewell to his partner and following my lead.

Zayne had stayed near the door of the pub, watching the whole thing with a scowl on his face. He seemed practically invisible within his shadows, but I was glad he had stayed. I needed Rhett to meet Zayne—it would help him understand the depth of my troubles.

I pulled Rhett forward, closer to Zayne. Rhett acknowledged the prince with a quirky grin. Zayne’s frown deepened. Rhett’s broad shoulders and bright charisma countered Zayne’s shadowy looks.

Zayne spoke first. “Are you two…? When you said friend, I assumed…”

I smirked. “You assumed my friend was a girl?”

“I suppose I did.”

“Well, you shouldn’t assume. It’s a poor look on you.” Why was I being so playful? “Rhett is my friend. Maybe my only one.”

Rhett frowned, contemplating the space between Zayne and me. Then he found his sparkle again, pointing toward a free table. “Maybe it’s best if we take a seat near the back. Ayla, my dear, I fear you’ve got some explaining to do.”

We settled at the table, and with a signal from Rhett, a bartender served us, pouring glasses of mead. The music still rang with a steady beat, and I tapped my feet.