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Chapter 20

IRIS

Walking through an inter-realm portal was even less enjoyable the morning after multiple rounds of etherspirits.

While convincing Nadya and Karhu for a morning ride among the clouds was the most appealing option for the morning, we couldn’t delay our journey into Marikaim proper. Before climbing into the enchanted carriage, I whispered my thanks to the two white steeds in front.

As we pulled away, the purple flowers climbing the exterior of the Wisteria Lodge faded from view, replaced by dense trees. The capital city had been visible beyond the treetops before we left, marking a half-day’s journey—if I’d calculated correctly. Each of us groaned in protest as the path grew rougher, Theon hanging his head at the jostling. Leaning forward to swipe the flask from beside him, I took several long swigs. It did nothing to quell the pinpricks lingering behind my eyes.

A sharp, sudden crack split the air as an arrow flew through the open window, lodging itself in the interior of the compartment—directly adjacent to where my head had been.

Gruff shouts mixed with the splintering of wood as Aspen kicked open the door, revealing four masked strangers clad in dark leathers. He and Theon lunged for their weapons, discarded on the floor, moving in tandem with no need for spoken commands.

“Stay here,” Aspen growled before leaping into the dirt below.

Panic seized me, my lungs refusing to draw breath at the sounds of clashing metal and slicing flesh.

No, no, no. Not again.

My sweaty hands gripped the plush seat as hazy memories whipped through my mind. My head spun, cries filling my ears, past and present colliding in an indistinct blur. The kaleidoscope of recollection was too fractured to form coherent images, but the fear—the vice-grip clawing at my ribs—was real. That was now.

Velvet fabric ripped beneath my nails as I sucked in a breath. Then another.

One. Breathe . Two. Breathe . Three. Breathe .

Weak. Fucking weak.

A blood-curdling scream had me on my feet without a second though, dagger in hand as I leapt into the fray.

Aspen and Theon stood back-to-back, alternating between their weapons and their magic. Theon’s axe swung in a deadly arc, narrowly missing an attacker’s shoulder, while Aspen’s curved blade struck home, blood gushing from the forearm of the blond man before him. Ice sheeted the ground, causing the assailants to slip as they swung their blades. But two Kacidonians moved with a lethal grace, completely at home on the slick terrain.

One of the attackers, the shortest of the four, raised a leg—a blade protruding from the heel—aimed directly at Theon’s throat. My dagger left my hand in a heartbeat, plunging into the leather-clad thigh. Mahogany locks spilled from beneath a hood as the woman cried out, clutching the wound, her palms quickly stained red.

I sprinted past her, racking my brain for every tactic Nadya had drilled into me. It had been months since we’d formally trained, the sessions growing infrequent over the years as more pressing matters filled our time.

She lunged, her blade tearing across the stiff fabric of my bodice.

“ Triad’s tits ,” I groaned. “This was my favorite dress.”

Ducking beneath a second swing, I tucked into a slide, snatching my blade from her leg as I passed. She lunged, but I rolled out of her reach, twisting to slice the tendons behind her knee. She buckled, her own dagger swinging wildly as she fell. A sharp sting bloomed across my cheek, warm wetness pooling as blood poured from the gash.

Divine above, I was out of practice. And despite sporadic training, I’d never particularly excelled in hand-to-hand combat.

I climbed atop her as she collapsed, knocking the weapon from her grasp. She spat at me, clawing at my face with her free hand, nails raking my skin. Then the sun broke through the trees, illuminating her at last.

The leathers across her chest had ripped, revealing a dark pulsating brand deep beneath her ribcage. Deep lines gouged her flesh, a brand carved across her sternum. It wasn’t a scar, or tattoo. Not the marred lines of a burn. The symbol seemed carved from shadow itself. A void. The outline rippled with an eerie rhythm, that dark mass beneath it beating in time, as if her skin were alive. Dark tendrils whipped outward, curling over her collarbones and sinking beneath her flesh. And the way they moved, methodical and precise...it was a pattern. They were moving in a pattern, leaving behind a network of dark cracks radiating outward.

Nothing I knew lay before me.

Not beast. Not Mythical.

Barely Ethera. Without the brand, one wouldn’t think to question what she was. She could’ve passed us in the street without drawing a second glance.

But face to face, her eyes were hollow. Dead. Held together by the flicker of humanity left.

What was this?

“Stop looking,” she sputtered, blood bubbling at her lips from a wound sustained before I joined the fight. “You’re too late .”

I had no time to decipher her taunt. My fingers reached for a small bottle of poison hidden within my skirts.

Before I could even uncork it, the light fled her eyes. Her hand shot skyward, bright white energy streaming from her palm. The ground trembled as it pierced a cloud, before falling limply to her side.

The power had not taken any form. It was not the bending of elements, or humming string of Threads. There was no hazy aura from an enchantment or mirage of an illusion. It sliced to the heavens, dissipating without a trace.

Scrambling away from her lifeless body, both my heart and head raced as I surveyed the battlefield.

Move quickly, Aconite. Nadya’s voice—steady as still water—echoed in my head. No matter how much time passed, her lessons ingrained in my subconscious. Your mind is your greatest weapon. Think before they can.

Another body lay sprawled at Aspen’s feet, the bulkier of the three men. Gore covered the prince’s face as he turned toward me, icy eyes scanning me rapidly.

“Fucking Divine,” Theon spat, his unbound hair slick with sweat and grime. “I think they’re getting stronger.”

Indeed. The man before him fought with unnatural vigor, looking more energized now than when we’d first left the carriage. The gashes across his skin had sealed impossibly fast, now nothing more than faint pink scars.

A noise—near imperceptible—rustled from the tree line as Aspen stepped toward me.

Before thinking, before even considering the consequences, I dove into my essence, releasing several golden Threads. They braided together seamlessly, forming a solid, lethal cord. The woven strand wrapped around the arrow mid-flight, snaring it without breaking the shaft.

“Down, Theon!”

Redirecting the arrow from its original target—Aspen’s chest—I twisted my wrist, sending it hurtling toward Theon’s opponent instead. With a twist of one wrist and a sharp pull from the other, the braid soared over Theon’s head.

The man before Theon’ shout of, “She’s a—” was cut off as the gilded rope coiled around his neck.

The remaining length, arrow still attached, whipped toward the tree line. A second strand flicked from my fingers towards where the archer reached for his quiver. It was feeble, flickering as I struggled to hold onto the first cord. Plummeting further, I fortified it with several more as it collided, knocking his hand away as the first Threaded arrow lodged into his throat.

Seizing the opportunity of his incapacitated attacker, Theon swung his axe, directly above where the braid of power was digging into his fleshy neck. Bone crunched loudly, the gruesome sound mixing with the sputtered choking from the archer in the trees, as the Ethera’s head fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Aspen reached the tree line, hands outstretched, ice coating his palms.

“We need to question him,” I gasped, my limbs shaking from the strain of so much power at once.

“The arrow might make that difficult.”

“Then heal him. If he’s alive, we need?—”

I couldn’t finish the sentence before my insides wrenched, my entire body rejecting the surge of magic as the contents of my stomach sloshed onto the forest floor.

The sound of ice cracking mixed with another upheaval. Aspen’s voice, low and unreadable, cut straight to my bones.

Cold. Unyielding. Lethal.

Trembling, I attempted to step around the vomit. My body fought as power engulfed me. A Torrent’s storm, rising and falling in a spinning crescendo.

Control, Iris.

My knees slammed into the ground, crashing down into the puddle of sick. Wind swept against my fevered skin before hooking under my arms. The support kept me upright—just enough to stumble forward.

Aspen stood rigid, sweat beading his face. The sheer power it took to keep me steady and encase the remaining assailant in ice was staggering.

“Let me go,” I breathed. “I’m fine.”

He paused, gaze darting between me and the captive with a nearly splintering intensity.

“Save your reserves for him.”

The strength of the wind eased in slow increments, lessening as my steps became steadier.

Laughter—low and chilling—rippled from the man shackled in ice. Though that same dead look lingered behind his eyes, devoid of humanity, the blood that dribbled from every orifice was red. Normal, red, Etheran blood.

“What do you want?” Aspen snarled. Rage, unlike anything I’d ever seen, radiated from him as he crouched, hands digging into the ice. Theon’s blade was against the man’s neck as he kneeled behind him, chin angled up.

“Too late, Imus .” If the word had any meaning to either of the Kacidonians, it didn’t show on their faces.

I spun my dagger, stepping forward to slice through the leathers on his chest.

There it was.

The same pulsating brand.

“The in—” he choked, staggering amounts of blood still pouring. The void on his sternum pulsed faster, wayward tendrils dancing wildly.

Identical to before, his hand shot skyward. White light streaked from his palm as he muttered his final words.

“ They’re coming. ”