Page 60 of Courting the Dragon Prince (A Royal Arrangement #1)

Chapter Sixty

“B lood and boulders! Where the fuck did you get that key?” Onyx asked.

Luther smiled. “Well, as you know, I hoard keys, especially pretty ones like this.” Luther held up the key. It dangled between them from the cord. “And although I have mostly grown out of the habit of stealing keys, I had a relapse.

“You see, when your uncle knocked on my door earlier, he had several keys hanging from his sash.” Luther wrinkled his nose. “And he was being so annoying, telling me he needed me to come with him, expecting me to follow him when I just wanted to be left alone.”

“Faster, Luther.” Onyx glanced towards the front of the wagon. “We have no idea how much longer we have before this wagon stops.”

“Right,” Luther said. “Anyway, I was in a pretty bad mood, and he was pissing me off, so I took one of his keys.”

“Well, thank the mountain spirits you did,” Onyx said.

Luther gave him a tight smile. “Thank me if it works on our shackles. I only took one. I figured he wouldn’t notice one missing.” Luther slotted the key into the shackle wrapped around his own wrist. “If I’d known he’d planned to kill us, I’d have taken them all.”

Luther tried to turn the key in the lock. It didn’t budge.

Onyx’s heart sank.

Luther exhaled sharply. He tried to turn the key again. Luther grunted as he wiggled it. But still, the key wouldn’t turn. “Shit.” Luther yanked the key from the lock. “Hopefully it works in yours.”

Onyx held out his wrists.

The rocking and jolting of the wagon stopped. They both looked around. It seemed they’d reached their destination.

“Quickly!” Onyx whispered, glancing at the wagon door. He could hear voices outside now that the sounds of the wagon and hoof-beats had stopped.

Luther slid the key into the lock of Onyx’s shackles.

Onyx’s whole body vibrated.

Luther turned the key. It clicked. The manacle opened. Onyx exhaled.

“Yes!” Luther hissed. He yanked the shackle free from Onyx’s wrist.

“Thank the mountain spirits.” Onyx held out his other wrist.

Onyx could hear movement outside. Soldiers dismounting. Footsteps. How long until they opened the wagon door?

Luther unlocked the second shackle and then tugged it open.

Like a wave, Onyx felt the energy of the mountains flow into him. He took a breath and felt their pulse moving around him. How he’d missed it.

Onyx closed his eyes, reaching out, savouring the feel and taste of the energies of the different rock, limestone, basalt, slate, schist, marble, gneiss?—

“Whatever stone meditation you’re doing right now, stop it!” Luther whispered. “We have other things to deal with now.”

Onyx’s eyes snapped open. “Right.” He shook his head. “Sorry.”

Luther grabbed the dagger from the floor. “So you have your powers. That’s good. But I don’t.” Luther reached out and yanked the second dagger from the soldier’s chest. She slumped lifelessly forward.

Luther gave the bloody dagger a quick wipe on the soldier’s trousers. “At least I have these.” He clenched one dagger in each of his manacled hands.

“So what’s the plan for when this door opens?” Onyx stared at the door.

Luther glanced at the dead soldiers. “Too late to pretend we’re still subdued prisoners. I guess we run for it.”

Onyx nodded. “All right. We fight our way out. You with your daggers. Me with my powers. I’ll try and clear our path as much as possible before us. We run until we find cover and then keep running, I guess.”

“You’re injured and drugged,” Luther pointed out.

Onyx shrugged. “Not much I can do about that. At least we’ll have surprise on our side.”

Luther’s fingers tightened on the hilts of the daggers, gaze fixed on the door. Bending over, he moved in front of the door, body tense and ready to spring forward into action. “I’ll go first.”

Onyx didn’t argue. He just got into place behind Luther.

Footsteps moved around the wagon towards the door. But it didn’t open. He heard murmured voices. But he couldn’t tell what they said. A horse neighed.

Every nerve, every muscle, every fibre of Onyx’s being coiled tightly. Hopefully, the adrenaline would make up for any slowness caused by his injuries or the remaining lysithea still in his system.

He let out a breath, connecting to the rock around him. The connection lacked the clarity he normally obtained, but still, the stones stood ready to obey him.

A voice he didn’t recognise yelled from a distance, “Would this be a good spot, Your Majesty?”

Anger burned through Onyx’s blood. He gritted his teeth.

How dare this soldier refer to Warden Flint as Your Majesty ? That was the way you addressed a monarch. The monarch was his mother! Not his uncle. Warden Flint was a usurper and a traitor! He would never be the grand warden of the Grey Mountains. Never! Onyx would do everything in his power to stop his uncle’s plan.

But first, he had to focus. First, he and Luther had to get away.

“Yes,” Warden Flint called out from somewhere near the front of the wagon. “That spot will be suitable.”

What spot? Was this the spot where they’d kill Luther and make it look like Onyx had done it?

Onyx did not intend to find out. They’d escape. They’d thwart his uncle’s plans. Then Onyx would make his uncle pay.

“You can bring them out of the wagon now,” Warden Flint called out.

Footsteps approached the back door. Keys rattled. Metal scraped. The padlock clunked as it released. Metal rattled against wood as the soldier removed the padlock.

The door opened a crack.

Luther roared as he shoved the door outwards.