Page 33 of Bartered by the Shadow Prince (Bargain with the Shadow Prince #3)

Dimhollow

DAMIEN

T he nightmares are unceasing. Consumed by some kind of fever, I toss and turn, sweat soaking every part of me. But despite the blistering heat in my veins, I only feel cold. I shiver hard enough for my teeth to clack together. And still, I can’t fully drag myself from sleep.

A wet rag blots my forehead as I fight back a vision of Adril grabbing the back of Eloise’s neck. I have to get to her. I have to fight for her.

Finally, I break through with a scream.

“Easy, Damien,” a melodious voice croons.

I blink awake, meeting a familiar set of chocolate-brown eyes.

They are Aurora’s eyes, but as for the rest of the woman, she is not Aurora.

She’s a witch, to be sure. Feathers and crystals adorn her dark, graying hair and a crescent moon pendant similar to the one Aurora used to wear dangles from her neck as she leans over me.

But I’ve never met this woman. How does she know my name?

She hands me a glass of water. “By the time we found you, the wraith’s poison had already entered your bloodstream. Death had taken root. We had to pluck it out branch by branch and kill the rest with an antidote that is no pleasure to make. You are lucky to be alive.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Three days.”

I try to sit up, but my head throbs and I flop back down on the cot. “Eloise was taken. I need to find her. I need to get her back.”

“You need to get well or you won’t even be able to save yourself.”

“Is Aurora here? I need to speak with Aurora.”

The woman offers me a consoling smile. “How are you with tarot cards? We may be able to contact her in the spirit world if you are sure she is the only one who can help you. I don’t like to do it, though. My mother is at peace.”

“Aurora has passed over into the Darklands?”

“Over a century ago, I’m afraid. She was six hundred and fifty years old. An incredible life for a witch.”

“And you are?”

“Her daughter, Catarina.” The witch extends her hand, and I take it in my own with a reverent bow of my head.

“I am honored to meet the progeny of my dearest friend.”

Now her eyes twinkle with her smile. “I am honored to meet one of the dearest friends of my long-departed mother. She told me you were coming, but as you might have guessed, after a century, you begin to wonder if even Aurora might have been mistaken.”

I close my eyes. “Aurora was never mistaken. Never.”

“And she knew it too.”

I recognize the cottage now as the one Aurora once lived in.

It hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here.

Herbs hang to dry off every conceivable surface, and jars of bones and dried things of unimaginable origin are stacked in every corner.

It is not a clean home and there is no organization, but I can still feel the power here.

Catarina stands and moves toward the front of the house.

“Where are you going?” I call after her.

“To send word that you’ve survived and to get you some stew. You haven’t eaten in three days. If you’re going to get your mate back, you’ll need your strength.”

I track her as she uses a quill to scratch a note on some parchment, and then she pulls a gray bird the size of a fist from a cage near the window.

The other birds inside the cage begin to tweet and coo when she opens the door, as if everyone is excited about what will happen.

She gently ties the note to its leg with some twine.

Then she kisses it on the head and tells it, “Please, my friend, deliver my message to Candlewick’s.

” She opens the front door, and the creature flies from her open hand.

“You train them?”

“Messenger doves. No training is required. They instinctively return to the place of their birth. The hardest part is keeping each of the birds straight. They each have a different birthplace in the village. Don’t worry, I keep excellent records.

Our message will get where it is meant to go today.

We use ravens for more difficult tasks.”

She disappears into the kitchen, and my stomach rumbles when the scent of roasting meat wafts into the room. But a spike of anxiety drives through me as I again think of Eloise. I need to find her. “Did your mother leave you any clues as to what happened to my mate?”

She returns with a large wooden bowl of stew that smells strongly medicinal and shoves it into my hands.

“No. But I do have a way to find her, a way that is already in motion. A raven trained on the scent of your blood, your mating bond. I hope you don’t mind my use of your blood while you were unconscious, but my raven is incredibly good at what he does. If anyone can track Eloise, it is he.”

“Take more if it will help. I must find her. There’s no time to waste.”

“I predict we will attain her location later today, but before you go after her, there are things you must know. Things my mother made me promise to share with you.”

“Oh?” I take a bite of the stew, incredibly thankful when the warmth of it hits my belly.

“Do you know why fate brought you to me, Damien, in this time, in this place?” Her shrewd eyes cut right through me, just as her mother’s once did.

I take another bite of the stew, so hungry now, I can’t spoon it in fast enough. “I wasn’t aware that fate had anything to do with it,” I say around the spoon. “It wasn’t fate who fought an animated pile of bones to get here.”

She tsks. “I’m disappointed. You still don’t believe that there’s a force for good in the universe, a guiding hand that’s driving us toward an ultimate victory over evil.”

I swallow another bite. I have to remind myself to chew because my instincts are urging me to ingest as much as possible, as fast as possible.

That poison blade did a number on me. “If there is, I have some questions for this guide. The first of which is why it was necessary to kill off my family and allow my spineless brother the power to sign a disaster of a peace accord and to ascend to the throne of a kingdom he’s not fit to rule. ”

She sits up straighter. “Is that what you think happened?”

I stop eating, my spoon paused over the almost-empty wooden bowl. “My family was murdered. All but Brahm. That is what I know.”

She nods. “Murdered, yes. By Brahm. By the very spineless fool who you lament is now running the kingdom.”

My stomach drops, my mind flashing back to Eloise’s anguished face as she said, Your father’s throat was slashed. I’d suspected Nevina. “ Tell me everything. What happened to Stygarde while I was gone?”

She stands and takes the now-empty bowl from my hands. “Let me refill that for you.”

“You’re dodging my question. What aren’t you telling me?” She disappears into the kitchen in a huff. Pots and spoons clang together, and she returns with a second heaping bowl full. My stomach growls appreciatively when she thrusts it back into my eager hands. Our gazes catch. “Well?”

A knock reverberates through the room from the door.

“That will be the answer you’ve been waiting for,” Catarina says, leaving my side to go open it.

“Catarina? Tell me what is going on.”

Darkness bleeds into the room. I drop my bowl of stew on the table with a resounding clank, unable to stop my hands from trembling or my breath from catching in my throat.

Two shades coalesce in front of the fire—Nyxadora Hymir, my mother and true Queen of Stygarde, and beside her, my sister, Princess Karyl.