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Chapter twenty-five

HYACINTH

My heart fought to break free from my chest as my eyes locked on a monstrous creature crouched over an animal carcass only yards from where we stood.

The light in Landers’s palm extinguished as the sound of Dukovich’s blade sliding from its scabbard filled my ears.

Landers began walking us backward, each step slow and cautious as his arm held firm around my waist.

A low growl echoed through the corridor as the creature’s head lifted from its prey and turned to face us. Sunken, milky eyes stared lifelessly at us as its twisted mouth, lined with jagged teeth, hung open in a silent scream.

We stilled, and I watched in horror as the thing rose to its full height.

Its skeletal frame was wrapped in ragged, sinewy flesh, decomposing yet clinging to its bones with a sickening tenacity.

The skin that sagged from its body was mottled with hues of sickly green and ashen gray, ruptured by patches of raw, putrid flesh that oozed a black, thick fluid-like tar.

It shambled toward us and Landers’s grasp on me tightened as his back hit the cave wall.

It can’t see us , I chanted over and over in my head as it approached at a glacial pace. The only light came from the cave’s opening and I prayed it would follow it out.

My eyes connected with Wren’s from across the opening, his back plastered to the wall opposite us as his fist tightened on the pommel of his sword. I could see the twitch in his face as he held back the gag caught in his throat from the air wafting off the creature.

The stench was overwhelming—like rot mingling with damp earth, burning itself into the air with an almost tangible weight, sour and metallic. Flies swarmed around it, feasting on the decaying flesh that barely held it together.

It reeked of death.

My heart stuttered as it stepped in front of us, its movements jerky, unnatural, dragging broken limbs behind and leaving a trail of foul, viscous fluid in its wake.

I watched as it passed us by without even a glance, without a thought as it headed for the entrance.

No one spoke, no one moved as its head dipped through the cave’s opening.

My stomach roiled, my throat pulsating against the bile I had been holding back for what felt like hours.

The moment Landers let a breath slip from his lungs and loosened his grip on me I fell to my knees and vomited.

I could hear the same reaction spewing from Wren as I wiped the corner of my mouth and sucked in a deep breath.

Landers squatted down beside me, pulling my hair over my shoulder and gently rubbing my back as he handed me a canteen.

Water flowed between my lips and I swished it around my mouth before spitting it into the dirt and gulping down another greedy swing. The putrid air of The Silliands almost seemed fresh in comparison to the rotten scent that thing had filled the cavern with and I couldn’t fill my lungs fast enough.

“What was that?” I gasped, lifting my head to see Dukovich already working on securing the cave.

“The creature has no name,” Dukovich stated, not turning to face us as he glamoured the caves opening. “It is only known as an omen of death.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat at the gravity in his tone, the severity of it sharp and biting.

Saniel’s face flickered through my mind, the warning—the threat he’d delivered, echoing between my ears.

It felt like more than a mere coincidence that this creature had appeared so soon after he had sought us out.

I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t keep it from them knowing I was putting them in more danger than they had already agreed to. If any of them were wounded—were killed, I would never be able to live with myself.

I already carried the weight for the death of one person I loved, I would not survive another.

“I need to tell you something,” I blurted, my voice shaking as I tucked a curl behind the slanted tip of my ear.

Dukovich finally turned toward me as all of their gazes landed on me.

“The mountain collapsing onto us was not from The Silliands magic. It was a messenger warning us on behalf of the Gods that if we disobey them—if we wake the Fallen Ones—they will come for us.” I glanced up to see a soft smile pull at the corners of Landers’s lips before disappearing back into his usual unreadable canvas.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, fidgeting with the canteen in my hand. “I should have told you sooner; I shouldn’t have waited. And if that changes your choice in being here I will understand.”

“Cin,” Wren started, leaning his back against the wall across from me, resting his forearms on both knees.

“We were under no illusion that the Gods would not try to stop us from doing this, we knew it would be dangerous. We knew the risks. A messenger showing up here only confirms what we already knew.”

“Though it does make me curious as to what they are so scared of us learning if we bring them back,” Dukovich interjected, dragging a hand down his face. “What was this messenger’s name?”

“Saniel, is the name he gave me.” Dukovich’s back straightened at my words. “Do you know him?” I asked, my brows creasing as I studied him from across the opening.

“He came to The Silliands centuries ago, probing for information about rumors of us having dragon eggs. He killed ten of my men in the forty-eight hours he was in our realm.” The words were sharp as they rolled from his lips and I could see that the memory haunted him.

“Do you? Have dragon eggs?” Wren asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Of course,” Dukovich hissed. “But we were not going to let that information fall into the hands of the Gods.”

“How the hell did The Silliands wind up with five dragons and dragon eggs?” I asked, the confusion evident on my face.

“I do not know the answer to that question. How they fell into our hands was not written into The Stories, and they have had them for so long that the truth of how, was lost to legends. The knowledge that we have had dragons, however, was an open secret for centuries because we sold their DNA on the black market. That is how Ammord created the Tragi, but the eggs . . . that is something only members of the War Council and leadership know of. We promised to protect that secret with our lives when we were sworn in.”

“What does The Silliands plan to do with these eggs?” Landers’s question sounded from beside me and I could hear anger trickling into his tone.

The muscle in Dukovich’s jaw feathered, a struggle flashing behind his eyes as he stared back at us in silence.

I didn’t envy him—the position he was in. He had led The Silliands for so long, served the Marzog people his entire life. Betraying your homeland, even for a cause you believed in, even if it meant saving thousands of lives, could not be easy.

“They were hoping to breed them,” Dukovich finally said, reluctance braided into each word.

“To create an army to rule the skies and gain control of every realm.” He let out a weighted sigh, falling to the ground beside Wren as he dragged a hand over his face.

“But the eggs never hatched. And, as you know, all the dragons you freed are female. There is one egg out of the three that is male, and they have been waiting centuries for him to break through his shell.”

My mind started racing as every one of his words sunk in. If these eggs hatched, we wouldn’t have a chance. Even with the few dragons we had, we would not survive against an army of them.

“We need to get these eggs,” I said, looking between Dukovich and Landers. “It doesn’t matter if they hatch tomorrow or in a century, if they create an army of dragons, not a single realm will survive that.” There was a power in my voice, a demand that shocked even myself.

“No,” Dukovich snapped, standing from the ground and beginning to pace. “They are never unguarded. It would be a death trap.”

“Lucky for us I have a tendency to defy death. I will take my chances,” I hissed, shooting from the round and taking a step toward him. Landers’s hand slipped through mine and gently tugged.

“We need to focus on the day ahead,” Landers said, his voice soft as he pulled me back to him.

“When we get back to Locdragoon we can discuss the possibility of retrieving these eggs. But for now, we have Gods to wake.” He was right.

There was so much already on our plates and I was getting ahead of myself.

We didn’t even know if we would make it out of the next twenty-four hours alive.

I nodded, conceding as I sat back down between Landers’s legs and leaned against his chest.

“I am going to take first watch,” Dukovich stated, walking toward the entrance of the cave. “Wren, walk with me. There is much I need to tell you before we meet with Malik.” Wren lifted himself from the ground and followed after him as a sigh slipped between my lips.

Landers and I sat in silence for a long moment as his arms wrapped around my shoulders, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest at my back soothing my fraying nervous system.

“You didn’t say anything when I spoke of Saniel,” I said softly, a question layered in the statement as a twinge of guilt pricked at my skin. I could feel a smile form on his face as he kissed just above my ear then pressed his cheek where his lips had been.

“I already knew.”

My body twisted toward him in one quick motion to find amusement dancing across his features.

“You knew and you didn’t say anything? You just let me lie to you?” I asked, embarrassment seeping into my gut.

“I know you well enough to know that your conscience would not let you hold onto that secret for long if it put any of us at risk,” he said, smirking back at me. “I also knew that you would tell me when you were ready.”

“But how did you hear it when they didn’t?”