Page 50 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

T he night wrapped around them like a whisper, the cobbled streets of the outer Temple district slick with mist. Streetlamps flickered through the haze, casting dancing shadows along the high stone walls.

Thalia’s boots made barely a sound as she moved, flanked by Marand and Cellen.

Her stomach twisted with nerves. They were really doing this. Vaelith’s lodgings loomed ahead

“I still think this plan is mad,” Cellen muttered as they crouched beside a trellis draped in ivy, just out of sight of the street. “Absolutely, fantastically mad. The kind of mad that ends with someone writing an overly dramatic ballad about us.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t enjoy it,” Thalia whispered back.

Cellen grinned. “Depends on how handsome they describe me as.”

Marand leaned close, eyes scanning the still street. “We’re clear. Nyla’s already in position across the street.”

A soft yellow glow emanated from the opposite wall, Nyla's signal. All clear. No Vaelith.

Thalia took a breath, placing her hand against the concealed entrance Cellen had identified earlier.

Hidden behind wild over grown ivy, the door looked more like a child's play house entrance than a servants and goods access.

Yet it hummed with subtle magic that once again danced beneath her fingers.

Cellen stepped forward, drawing a small rune marked stone from his belt along with a vial of some strange orange coloured liquid. “I’ve got the ward.”

Thalia and Marand stepped back and watched as he began dabbing the oil along the edge of the doorframe whispering words as he did so.

The magic shimmered briefly, Thalia could feel it resisting, a pulsing wave rushing out each time Cellen dabbed another drop of the oil.

Her nerves rose as she began to worry it wouldn't break, then softened, like an exhaled breath she felt it as it dissipated.

“We’re in.” Cellen looked round with a wicked grin.

The door open without a sound. Inside, the corridor was dim, lined with dark wood and stone. The air was heavy with incense, and the sweet smell of burning seasoned wood.

“Why does this place feel like a villain’s lair?” Cellen murmured as they crept inside. “Are we sure we aren’t going to open these doors into a dungeon filled with gold and virgins?”

“Do you want us to get caught?” Thalia hissed.

“Just adding ambiance.”

Marand shook her head fondly. “Can’t you take anything serious, your impossible!.”

“Gifted,” he corrected under his breath.

They moved further down the corridor widening into a hall of shadowed archways and polished floors.

Following Marand’s lead they continued down another darkened corridor.

Every step felt too loud. Every breath too sharp.

Thalia could hear her heart beat in her ears, her pulse thrumming in her skin.

She could feel his magic as though it was calling to her again.

Hands clenched at her sides she tried to stay focused on her raging thoughts.

This wasn’t just breaking into someone’s home.

It was his home. The male who had once haunted her thoughts.

The dragon who had once held her in shadows like a secret lover, burning for her.

The one who could end her with a flick of magic if he chose. The male who was now her enemy.

“What if he’s here?” she whispered.

Cellen leaned in. “He won’t be Marand had both the notes delivered earlier today, and I had the bartender send me a message confirming when they had both arrived at the tavern earlier tonight”

“Did you? The blonde fae barmaid?,” Marand replied flatly.

“ Yes, I did. And yes it was, she owed me. See I can plan too “

Thalia ignored the growing tension between her two friends. Tonight was not the night to even try to address what ever was going on between them.

They paused at the curve of the corridor. Ahead, the staircase to the upper level where Vaelith’s study waited. Three doors down, right side. Thalia had memorized the layout from the map in every spare moment she’d had today.

A noise from the floor above made them all freeze.

After a few moments of tense silence, Cellen exhaled. “We move now or not at all.”

Thalia nodded. “Let’s go.”

With hearts pounding, they made their way up the staircase toward the study.

The upper level of Vaelith’s lodgings was deathly quiet. Every creaking floorboard felt like a shout. She was acutely aware of how wrong and dangerous this was. They paused at the top of the landing. A long corridor stretched before them, lined with tall doors carved in dark wood.

"Third on the right," Thalia whispered, nodding toward the far end. “That’s the one. I’m sure of it.”

“ Are we going straight for the study, or should we try his bed chamber?” Cellen asked

“Study, Cellen! Not everything revolves around the bedroom!” Marand’s answer was harsh

Cellen flashed her a grin. “Spend a night in my bedroom, then tell me that.”

Thalia rolled her eyes attempting to ignore the irritation of their constant back and forth.

Her pulse thrummed the closer she got to the door.

The feel of Vaelith’s magic from the ward becoming more and more intoxicating with every step she took.

Thalia watched as Cellen stepped forward once again and began meticulously dabbing the oil around the door.

The ward reverberated with each word he spoke, it was stronger this time.

Thalia watched as beads of sweat formed across Cellen’s forehead.

He gritted his teeth the strain becoming increasingly apparent.

Suddenly an orange flash blasted from the centre of the door rendering Cellen airborne, before crashing in a tangle of limbs backwards down the corridor.

“Cellen!” Marand ran to his side.

“ Wow !” “I didn’t expect that!” he slowly lifted himself up on his elbows.

Thalia crouched beside her friend who looked far too pale for her liking. "Are you okay?”

She placed her hands over him sending gentle pulses of her magic to check his body for injury.

“I’m fine Thal. Honest stop fussing.” “But I can’t break it, it’s too strong”

Ignoring her friends protest she continued her examination, only stopping once she was thoroughly satisfied there was no internal damage. With the help of Marand they both took hold of an arm each and pulled Cellen back to his feet.

“What do we do ?” Marand asked.

“I could try again” Cellen suggested, the resounding “No” from Marand and Thalia echoed loudly down the corridor.

“We need to go.” Thalia told her friends, her heart sank at their failure. Cellen looked back at the door, “ I could try one more time Thal, I’m okay...” he wobbled as blood slowly trickled down his nose.

“No !” Thalia pulled her magic to her again concern etching her face as she once again sent pulses out to examine her friend, her heart racing with fear and guilt for putting him in this situation . He batted her hands away, “I’m fine stop it” “ I can..”

“Do that again Thalia,” Marand’s Shakey voice interrupted them.

“Do what ?” Thalia asked

“Your magic, use it again”

Confused Thalia gently pulled her magic into her hands; a glowing white orb appeared within her palms.

“Look at the ward” Marand exclaimed

Looking up Thalia inhaled sharply to see the ward shimmering like oil dancing across water.

She could feel the magic reaching for her, calling to her own magic.

She gasped, her own magic seemed to flair brighter, as though they both longed to merge.

A wild idea raced through her mind, before she had the chance to talk herself out of it she walked forward and placed her hand on the handle.

It was cool under her touch, the brass worn smooth, the ward seemed to dance through every fibre of her body leaving tiny goosebumps across her skin.

She looked back at her friends. Marand nervously gave a tiny nod.

Cellen looked like he was holding his breath.

She turned the handle; the audible click was like a song in her ears.

The study was dark, lit only by moonlight spilling through tall arched windows.

Shadows stretched across the room full of polished dark furniture, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a large desk that sat like a beast in the centre.

Her thoughts drifted back to the first time she had entered this room, it had felt warm and welcoming then, now however it was dark and foreboding.

She pushed her feelings down; this was not the time.

The air smelled of old paper and spiced ink, the faintest trace of something smokier, like fire dampened beneath the surface.

Marand followed her in, eyes already scanning the shelves.

Cellen eased the door shut behind them and began rifling through a side cabinet, with no obvious care to hide that anyone had been here.

“Cellen!” Thalia scolded, “We need to leave this place as we found it!”

Thalia moved toward the desk. It was littered with scrolls, wax-sealed documents, and notes written in a sharp, precise hand she recognized all too well. She carefully sifted through the papers, eyes searching for any trace of maps.

“Anything?” Marand whispered.

Thalia shook her head. “Just notes. Battle reports. Lists of magical containment materials—wait…”

She pulled out a thick, folded parchment from a lower drawer, bound in a cracked leather cover. Her breath hitched.