Page 52 of Bartered by the Shadow Prince (Bargain with the Shadow Prince #3)

The Passageway

ELOISE

S ilence . It’s not that remaining quiet is overly difficult for me personally, but I’m so tired of being tested time and time again.

After everything we’ve been through, we deserve a break.

Besides, I have a feeling this passageway is designed to induce fear.

Only someone who knows the enchantment isn’t real won’t scream.

I can stay quiet, but I don’t trust myself not to react and yank the reins if something truly terrifying happens. I knot them and lay them on Romulus’s neck, gripping the edge of his saddle instead. The rabble beast follows Borus forward and around the bend.

I press my lips tightly together. It’s going to be okay . After the shadowpath, it can’t be any worse.

First, there is the darkness, and Damien did not exaggerate when he suggested we wouldn’t be able to see at all.

The light dims, and then even my vampire vision can’t cut through the magic around me.

It’s not just darkness but blindness. It’s unsettling, but I close my eyes and pretend I’m still human. I concentrate on my breath.

A cloud of humid air surrounds me and then closes in.

It becomes hard to breathe, like someone has thrown a heavy, wet blanket over me.

It’s suffocating. Each breath is a struggle, like I’m drowning.

At first, I remind myself that I don’t have to breathe, but then the sound of my pounding heart and the ache in my lungs makes me question that belief.

I am no longer a vampire. I am a vampire with a beating heart.

Hearts need oxygen. I draw another heavy breath.

Tears flow as I wonder if I might truly suffocate on the back of this beast, fighting for every sip of air, with no way to cry for help. But I don’t make a sound other than each shaky, pinched breath.

After what feels like an eternity, the pressure abates, and I draw beautiful, fresh, snow-crisp air into my lungs.

We must be close to the end. The scent of the deep forest at the height of winter meets my nose.

I wait for the darkness to lift, but it persists.

I desperately want to ask Damien how much longer but, with effort, maintain my silence.

Something tickles my leg. I brush a hand across my calf and feel fur and legs, like a large spider.

I brush it off me, and the feeling stops.

Another tickle on my shoulder. I flick my fingers and fling another of the things from me.

It’s the same but larger. Definitely arachnid-like, if not a spider.

A few steps more and the tickle on my leg is back, then my arm, my back, my head.

As fast as I shake them off, more fall on me.

I’m covered in tickling legs and furry bodies.

I brush my arms and legs, frantically trying to get them off me, but soon, they are on my neck, my face, burrowing into my hair.

I press my lips closed tight to keep them from entering my mouth, then feel one test my nostril.

Blowing a gust of air from my nose, I swipe at my face then cover my nose and mouth with my cupped hands and keep them there.

I can breathe now, but that doesn’t stop the army of spider things scurrying over my closed eyes, in and out of my ears, over every inch of my clothing, scuttering over the neck of my cloak.

They are everywhere. My tears drench my fingers, but I do not scream, even though I desperately want to.

I’m shaking so hard I can hardly keep my seat.

I picture myself being wrapped up like a fly in a giant web, and I sob into my hands.

But I wait, and in time, the things drop off me one by one. Finally, I feel safe to remove my hands from my face. I run them over my hair, my arms, my legs, relieved when I find myself free of insects.

Goddess help me, what could possibly be next?

Time ticks by. How long have we been in the dark? How long have we left to ride?

Without my sight, I concentrate on my other senses. The beasts’ paws thumping stone, the drum of my heart beating, the beast’s soft fur against my fingers, and the scent of a dank cavern.

A silvery-blue light appears up ahead, and again I wonder if we are near the exit of the passageway, but then I notice that the light shines right through where Damien should be. This light is in my head, not in the cavern.

Phantom! I almost call their name when the fox comes into view. I’ve missed the embodiment of my ancestors so much, and it feels as if my heart might jump out of my chest and run to the ghostly creature. But I can’t speak. Not here when we’re obviously still within the confines of the enchantment.

Still, I can’t help but reach out for the buzz that connects us.

I extend my magic, but no bond forms between us.

Instead, I feel twisting, crawling darkness, as if the invisible hand of my power has plunged into a bucket of larvae.

I draw my magic back into myself. As I do, Phantom melts into a dead thing, their fur swarming with maggots.

What I’m watching is heartbreaking, not simply because I need Phantom and this is not them, but because it’s the making of Phantom played in reverse.

When I moved my anchor from the grandfather clock in my parlor to the dead body of the fox I’d been feeding on the property of Harcourt Manor, my ancestors filled the corpse, reanimating it and making it the anchor I needed.

Now, the fox dies again and disintegrates into nothing, and with it, my hopes of practicing my magic as I once did.

Tears fall again from my already-sore eyes at the feelings of loss and grief this inspires in me. Everything is an ending these days. What I’d do to be shown a beginning.

As if Aurora is mocking me, the scene changes.

I’m now in a nursery with an empty crib.

The rocking chair rocks nothing but air.

There are no children to play with the toys strewn across the floor.

A black cloud moves through the room, ruffling the drapes.

Drapes…sunshine…I know this room. It’s my old room in Harcourt, the one I was staying in until we had to leave.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but this story is happening in my brain. I’m still blind to the reality around me. I can’t take this anymore. This scene, this passageway is a nightmare, almost like being back on the shadowpath. Every part of me wants out.

Concentrating, I reach again for my magic.

This time, I find it and hold on tight. It’s distant.

Still, I sink my hooks into it and pull, like reeling in a massive fish.

Without uttering a single syllable, I silently scream, Get out of my head!

It’s just a thought, a thought only I can hear, but it sends a blast of power through my body.

The silvery blue light fades.

The vision of the nursery shatters.

I see Romulus’s mane tangled in my fingers.

I breathe out a sigh of relief and look around me.

We’re inside a narrow corridor of stone.

Pinpricks of light filter through the ceiling above us.

It takes me a minute to realize that I’ve broken Aurora’s spell.

Not just the scene I was locked inside but the magic’s entire effect on me. I can see. I can trust my own senses.

In front of me, I watch Damien shiver and then duck his head between his arms. The enchantment is still working, just not on me. I’ve shattered it, like I did Damien’s curse. Which means I am again the key. My magic has returned!

I ready myself to cast over Damien and free him from Aurora’s cage, but there’s no need. I see the opening in the mountain up ahead. We trot out into the moonlit forest at the base of the mountain.

Damien wipes his eyes with his hands and shakes himself. “We can speak now,” he says.

“Aurora sure as hell knew what she was doing when it came to enchantments.”

Damien laughs. “Yes, she did.”

“Where to next?” I ask, apprehensively eyeing the trees above my head. I understand now why the elves are so dangerous. One could be directly above us, and we’d never know until a poisoned arrow punctured our torso.

“Straight across Tenebris to Mount Damocles. It’s a three-day journey through the dark forest. This used to be neutral territory, but it’s all New Stygarde’s now.”

“New Stygarde,” I scoff. “You mean the shill kingdom of Willowgulch.”

“Right.”

“Do you think we have any hope of making it to the mountain alive?”

“I’d say we have a better-than-average chance.

They’re attacking Dimhollow. They’ll expect us to stay under the protection of the witches, or perhaps to flee to Aendor and the seas.

Those are both more likely choices than an active volcano.

The heat may not kill us, but this experience will be unpleasant. ”

“You make it sound so homey.”

“I only wish to prepare you.”

“And if the elves split up and send hunters after us?”

He glances my way, his dark waves and diamond eyes cutting a lovely contrast against the green woods. “Then we’ll fight. You’ll have a chance to try accessing your magic.”

I kick Romulus forward until we’re riding side by side. “It’s funny you should mention that, because I used it against Aurora’s enchantment, and it worked.”

He does a double take, his lips tugging into a grin. “That’s good news, right?”

I sigh. “Yes, but…”

“But?”

“It felt like I had dredged it up from the underworld itself. I was trying to call Phantom, but I never connected to my anchor. My power responded, but it was slow to access and chaotic, more of a burst of power than an exacting spell. Ironically, I think Aurora gave me a clue to what I’m still missing. ”

He shoots me a look of concern. “What did you see?”

“Do foxes exist on Tenebris?”

Damien frowns. “No. Not like on Earth.”

“Phantom was a dead fox whom my ancestors animated. Aurora showed me his body dying. What if when Thanesia released my ancestors, she couldn’t return Phantom to me because that animal doesn’t exist here.

Maybe I need to find a new anchor on this plane, and until I do, I have to call up my ancestors all the way from the Darklands. ”

“It makes sense, little dragon. So, what must you do to find a new anchor?”

I frown. “That’s just the thing. Last time, my ancestors chose for me. Unfortunately, I think I’m going to have to wait until they find a body they feel is worth inhabiting.”