Page 53

V ahly, Arc, and Nix slipped away from the rogues and into the darkness.

The rise of dirt covering the rogue whom the others had called Fedon looked disturbingly similar to the mounds in which Mattin, former King of the Elves, had buried Dramour, Ibai, and Kemen, as well as Arc’s friends, Rigel’s son Pegasi, the ancient mother Vega, and the warrior Leporis.

Nix’s amethyst-sapphire wings shivered in the moonlight. “If we can shift his grave closer to that old rockfall there, that would at least get him off the main game trail.”

Vahly wiped beads of sweat from her upper lip.

After eating and refraining from doing magic all evening, she did feel stronger.

But not nearly as powerful as she had when she’d attacked Fedon.

“I’ll try to move the earth around him. You two might be forced to cart me back to camp though. I’m about done in.”

Arc rubbed his hands together in excited alchemist mode. She couldn’t help but grin despite the situation at hand.

“Do you mind if I combine my magic with yours,” he said, “and see if we can create a fresh fall of rock to mask the body?”

Nix looked over her wings, back toward the rogues. “Don’t make too much noise or bring the mountain down on us all.”

“I’m definitely not up to doing much.” Vahly pressed her palms into the earthen tomb. The cool dirt was heaped head-high. This would be no easy task.

“You two will eventually shake the earth. I can tell that much,” Nix said, throwing a wry grin at Arc.

Not making eye contact, Arc smiled—a private sort of grin that stirred a heat inside Vahly and made her wonder what he was imagining.

If they hadn’t been standing in the spot where she had been forced to kill a dragon, she would’ve raised an eyebrow and given him a line or two about what she thought.

But sadly, it was quiet here, the air heavy with their knowledge of how much blood would have to be spilled in the coming days.

Arc looked down at his hands to weave golden strands of magic around his long fingers and double-jointed thumbs.

Air magic lifted the ends of his hair, and the sound of wind rustling leaves grew loud even though there weren’t many trees around.

It was as if the Forest of Illumahrah whispered across the clearing in response to one of its royal masters.

Vahly forced all her energy into the Blackwater mark on her forehead and the drumming inside her palms.

Move , she ordered the earth.

The magic flowed from her in quiet, thundering waves, then combined with the sparkling breeze of Arc’s power. With a rumble, the earth shifted the buried dragon and mounded against a tumble of large stones near the rock wall of the clearing.

Nix flew to the top of the rock wall and pointed to a spot. The moon glowed through her semi-transparent wings as she hovered, her flame-bright eyes blinking and her clothing fluttering in the wind that Arc’s magic wrought.

Vahly and Arc traded a look, then focused their energy on the place Nix had selected.

The ground began to shake.

Nix turned in the air, watching the rogues’ camp for movement, as stones began to tremble, then clack noisily on their way down the side of the rock face.

Nix held out both hands, her talons spread wide as if she meant for them to stop the rockslide.

Heart beating in her temples and palms, Vahly eased off the flow of earth magic. She dropped her hands at the same moment that Arc let his magic fall away.

A pile of rocks the size of Mattin’s lapis lazuli bowl now lay atop the buried Fedon.

Arc came close, and Vahly leaned on him, beyond any fear of looking weak. He gave her a glass vial, wrapped in leather and corked. “Drink this,” he said.

Nix landed beside them, her gaze shifting nervously.

Vahly took Arc’s offered vial and downed its bitter contents. Her tongue shriveled at the taste, and she washed the potion down with a swig from Nix’s water skin. Nix took off to fly one more time around the clearing while Arc helped Vahly to a mossy stretch out of sight from the trail.

A shaky breath gusted from Vahly. The egg sat safely in Nix’s bag, propped against Vahly’s knee.

“Your magic helped,” she said to Arc.

“Did it? I think you accomplished the majority of that feat on your own.”

“You’re too kind, you know that? Quick. Say something horrible so I know you’re not a figment of my exhausted mind.”

“If Nix weren’t here, and we weren’t…in this sad situation, I’d be requesting an experiment on how it feels to kiss you in a windstorm of my making.”

Arc’s coal-black eyes studied her chin and throat.

She could almost feel the drag of his gaze like fingertips over skin.

The heat from earlier, the longing stirred by his grin, flickered again, stronger this time.

Mountain mint and sun-warmed sap—Arc’s scent—cocooned her and brought a dizziness far more delightful than the one that fatigue had rained down on her.

Her head fell against his shoulder, and the intoxicating presence of his royal elven blood infused her like a balm, like wine, like the adventure for which she had always longed.

“Vahly. My queen.” Arc’s voice rubbed against her ears, strong and rolling like the sound of an earthblood vent just under the surface.

Shivers danced their way down Vahly’s arms. She pressed her back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, the muscles in his arms moving against her own. Her body lit up like a torch. Her breath came too quickly.

So this was what the desire to mate felt like.

Swallowing, she tried to breathe evenly, fighting the urge to spin around in the circle of his arms and throw herself on him like a fool.

“We should, maybe, we should get back to our camp before the rogues wake,” she said, not recognizing her voice.

Arc stood and took her hand. “You’re probably right, although I reserve the right to grumble about it.” Vahly felt like she’d just leapt down from a tree limb, her stomach lifting and dancing. Arc winked, making Vahly bite her lip, then he turned his face to the moon. “Nix?” he called out quietly.

Nix flew overhead, her shadow interrupting the moonlight. She waved to them as Vahly shouldered her pack and tried to stop thinking about Arc’s hands and mouth.

They crept around the sleeping rogues, holding their breath, Nix flying softly through the air and Vahly attempting to walk as quietly as Arc.

The path tripped Vahly twice on their way back to their own camp in the cave by the sea. Clouds covered the moon, darkening the trail. But despite the small struggles, they had fled with everyone fully intact. Experience had taught Vahly that situations rarely traveled the simple, comfortable path.

She didn’t trust it.

“That escape was too easy,” she said, thinking aloud now.

Nix landed and walked beside them as they rounded a grove of holm oaks.

“Agreed. We’ll have to keep a good eye out for those louts.

They won’t like us leaving while they slept.

We took their egg and left nothing in its place.

A promise of gold with no heart oath won’t be enough to satisfy that Baz fellow for long. ”

“I do wish we didn’t have to wait on Amona’s warriors before heading into the ocean,” Arc said.

The salty wind blew his surcoat around his powerful legs before whipping Vahly’s hair into her eyes. The air stung her cheeks as she studied the lines of his back and shoulders. Her mouth was still dry from their shared moment near the rogues’ camp.

“I don’t love it,” Vahly said, attempting to shake off the longing she felt for Arc’s touch. “But the sea folk are more of a worry than avoiding rogues. If we can’t handle a group of difficult dragons, what chance do we have against Queen Astraea?”

“But Astraea doesn’t know you’re headed into Bihotzetik,” Nix said. Her stomach grumbled. “The rogues are fully aware we are in the area and ripe for whatever sadly unimaginative trouble they wish to start up. The enemy you know… and all that.”

“What if she does know? After all, she had contact with Mattin. She has an insider somewhere in Illumahrah.”

Arc halted and twisted, the focus of his gaze drawing the shape of her forehead, cheeks, and chin. “You don’t believe it was only Mattin and Canopus? You think there is another elf working dark magic in the wood?”

“There’s a chance,” Vahly said.

Nodding, Arc continued walking. “I hope Cassiopeia keeps her wits about her.”

“I don’t think you need to fret on that beautiful beast’s account,” Nix said. “That female has a head for ruling. She wears a crown of magic like it was crafted just for her.”

“She’s a wonder. It seems I am surrounded by wondrous females.” Arc’s lips tipped up at the edges as he grinned toward Vahly.

“I’m starving,” Nix said, her stomach rumbling again to prove her point.

“When aren’t you hungry?” Vahly elbowed her.

Nix raised her chin and narrowed her eyes at Vahly.

“When you take a dragon into the wilderness and have her on guard duty twenty-four hours of the day, she’s bound to need extra meals.

Besides, there aren’t any earthblood vents here.

I have to get my energy from somewhere.” She smoothed her red hair, and Vahly wondered how she managed to remain so sleek and beautiful in this wilderness she obviously loathed.

“Anyway,” Nix added, “I’m off to hunt. I’ll return in an hour or so. ”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Arc touched one of his throwing knives.

Nix took off, then hovered above them. “Oh, no. You have your own hunting to do down here.” She flew into the sky, stars showing between the racing clouds and her widespread wings.

Vahly’s cheeks warmed, knowing quite well what Nix was referring to. She spoke to Arc without looking back at him. “Should I make you hunt me?” She fought a grin. “Or can we skip all that nonsense?”