Page 35 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

My heart thundered in my chest as Tryggar carried us higher, the cold air whipping past until we broke through into cloud cover. The sirens' voices still echoed in my mind, but something else was taking shape—something that made dread coil in my gut like a serpent.

"The King of Sídhe," I called over the wind. "He must be a siphon."

Aether guided Nihr closer so we could hear each other. His expression was guarded, but attentive.

"I never knew what his focus was," I continued, the pieces falling into place faster now. "No one did. In all my time in the Guard, there were no stories about his power." My hands tightened on the saddle’s horn. "But it's him. It has to be. He's been slowly draining Umbrathia, using the arcanite to store what he's stealing."

"If that's true," Aether said carefully, "destroying the arcanite towers won't solve anything."

"No," I agreed. "He could continue draining essence with or without them. And worse—if we destroy the arcanite, all that stored essence would be lost. It would never return to Umbrathia. "

The implications hit me harder with each passing moment. All those years of prosperity in Sídhe, the abundant harvests, the thriving cities—it had all been built on stolen Essence. And the arcanite towers weren't just storage; they were proof of how long this had been happening. How long he'd been planning this. He had destroyed Riftdremar with this goal in mind.

"The towers are just the beginning," I said, my voice growing stronger despite the wind. "Think about it—he's had decades to perfect this. To figure out exactly how much essence he could take without completely destroying Umbrathia. Just enough to keep the Kalfar weak, but not enough to kill them outright."

"A slow death instead of a quick one." Aether's golden eyes had turned sharp. "But why? Why not just take everything at once?"

"Because he needs the realm alive, at least in some capacity," I realized. "If Umbrathia dies completely, there's no more essence to take. No more power to steal. Even as the essence is drained, the realm creates more—just not enough to make up for the loss. But perhaps, enough for him to take and store as it’s created." The words tasted bitter. "He's farming the realm. Taking his time."

Tryggar let out a low sound, as if he could sense my growing anger. Below us, the fertile fields of Draxon stretched endlessly, the only part of the realm that was left untouched.

"We have to tell Urkin," I said. "The entire strategy needs to change. If we keep focusing on the towers while ignoring the real threat?—"

"He won't believe it," Aether cut in. "Not without proof."

"Then we'll find proof. We have to." I met his gaze across the space between our Vordr. "Because if we don't stop him soon, there won't be anything left to save."

We flew on in silence, moments dragging by as clouds drifted around us. Without warning, both Vordr let out sharp hisses, Nihr's turning into a growl as they suddenly banked downward. Through gaps in the mist, I caught glimpses of something large moving through the brush below. A deer.

"What are they doing?" I yelled, gripping the saddle horn as he dove faster.

"They rarely get fresh meat anymore," Aether called back.

"They're chasing that deer?" My stomach lurched as we plummeted toward the ground.

"Unfortunately. They'll eat anything."

The Vordr crashed through the canopy, branches snapping beneath their massive wings. We emerged into a living forest—actual green trees, not the twisted husks I'd grown used to seeing. Tryggar's hooves thundered against the earth as he gave chase, Nihr right beside him. The deer bounded ahead, weaving between trees until the thickness of the forest finally forced it out of sight. Both Vordr slowed, snorting in frustration before lowering their heads to the grass at their feet, tearing it from the earth.

"Doesn't take much for them to abandon their better sense," I breathed, trying to calm my racing heart now that there was ground beneath us.

"Food is certainly a motivator," Aether responded, adjusting his positioning on the saddle.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I slid from Tryggar's back. "We're still in Draxon. We need to leave."

I watched the Vordr devour the grass, their movements almost frantic. It hit me then—they probably hadn't eaten anything truly fresh in a long time.

"Let them eat. We can spare a few minutes." I started walking, taking in the vibrant forest around us. "Besides, we're in the middle of nowhere."

"Fia." His tone carried irritation.

"I'm sure they'll alert us if they sense anything close."

An audible sigh escaped him, but I heard his boots hit the ground behind me. He followed as I wandered deeper into the trees, never straying too far.

I stopped at a bramble bush, leaning down to examine what looked like iridescent bubbles clustered on its branches. "What are these?"

Aether moved to crouch beside me, plucking one of the berries and popping it into his mouth. "Rainberries. Try one."

I watched as he grabbed a few more, then held out his hand. I took one, studying its translucent surface before tasting it. Sweetness burst across my tongue, followed by something lighter—like drinking fresh spring water on a hot day. After months of stale bread and rice, it was almost overwhelming.

"Esprithe," I breathed, grabbing a handful.

We settled onto the grass, and I felt the breeze stir my hair—actual wind, not the stale air of the fortress or the bitter cold of high altitude. The forest around us was a riot of life. Leaves rustled overhead, their edges tinged with amber and gold. Tiny purple flowers dotted the ground between tree roots, and somewhere nearby, water trickled over stones. It felt impossible that this could exist in the same realm as the wasteland we'd left behind.

"It's beautiful," I said softly, taking it all in.

"It is."

I glanced over to find his eyes fixed on my lips. We locked gazes for a moment before both quickly looking away. Heat crept up my neck as I focused intently on a nearby flower.

"It all used to look like this," he finally said. "This entire region."

"It reminds me a bit of Sídhe, actually. The forests surrounding Luminaria." I peeked over in his direction, noticing how still he had become.

"What did you do before the Guard?" he asked, twisting a blade of grass through his fingers.

"I worked in an apothecary." I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "For a woman, Maladea. We all called her Ma. "

I felt his eyes on me again, studying me curiously.

"What?" I asked.

"Awfully mundane." He let out a laugh. "It surprises me."

"That used to be my whole life. Mundane monotony. It was safe and I was content." I looked down, remembering that girl. "Feels like a lifetime ago."

"Time does seem to have that effect." He shrugged.

"Life in Sídhe wasn't easy. Especially before the guard." I motioned towards my Riftborne branding.

"I heard you. What you said at the bonfire. I was staying in the shadows because it felt rude to interrupt such a tense moment." He laughed again. "But I heard everything."

Heat rushed across my cheeks. "You were spying on us?"

"Observing," he corrected, that ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "It's what I do."

"And what observations did you make?"

"That you're more interesting than I initially thought." His eyes met mine again. "Though still incredibly frustrating."

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint." I plucked a blade of grass and tossed it at him. "What about you? What profound mysteries lurk in your past?"

His expression closed off slightly. "Nothing worth sharing."

"Says the man who emerged from the Void with no memories, looking exactly as you do now, thirty-five years ago. That's a lot of time. A lot of life to live."

"Careful," he warned, though there was less edge to it than usual. "I'd hate to bore you."

Movement caught our attention—the Vordr had wandered further into the trees. We both scrambled up, following them through the thick brush until the forest opened into a clearing. What we found stopped me in my tracks.

An ancient shrine stood before us, open to the sky and partially reclaimed by vines. Statues lined its perimeter—their forms similar to the Kalfar—the Aossí, but unnaturally elongated, features carved with an otherworldly perfection. Their faces were too symmetrical, their limbs too graceful, stretched just beyond what seemed possible.

The Vordr halted at the shrine's edge, but Aether and I stepped inside.

"The Esprithe," I breathed, recognizing the figures from my studies.

"Looks like it." Aether's tone was distinctly unimpressed.

"They're painted on the windows of the archives too."

"Yes, they're inescapable, it seems."

"You don't sound like a fan."

"I've never given much interest to the idea of a higher power," he said flatly.

As we wound through the statues, an idea struck me. Without warning, I shifted into my spectre form, materializing behind one of the carved figures.

"It's hardly the time for games," Aether called out.

"Come on," I shot back, already moving to another statue. "This is all new to me. I need the practice, wouldn't you agree?"

I caught a glimpse of him shaking his head before I disappeared again, reforming behind a statue of Sibyl, her stone eyes fixed eternally on some distant point.

"You're not hiding very well." His voice carried closer.

"Then why haven't you caught me yet?" I taunted, slipping between Conleth and Niamh.

I heard him sigh—that familiar sound of exasperation—before I moved again, black mist blurring beyond my vision. Our game of chase continued through the shrine as leaves descended from the canopy above.

Finally, his hand caught my arm just as I reformed behind Fírinne. "Found you. "

A smile tugged at his lips—small but real. Something in my chest fluttered at the sight.

"Your turn then," I said. "I feel like hunting."

His expression closed off immediately. "I'm afraid I can't." He released my arm, taking a step back. "The sirens... they took more than I expected."

I noticed then what I should have seen earlier—the void burns crawling up his neck looked different. Lighter somehow, almost faded.

"You can't shift?" The playfulness drained from my voice.

"Not until they replenish." He turned, already walking back toward the Vordr. "We should go."

I stepped toward him, my hand finding his arm before I could second-guess myself. The moment my fingers made contact, his head snapped around, but it was too late—I was already releasing the darkened tendrils. They poured from my skin into his void burns, and the sensation was unlike anything I'd experienced. His marks didn't just accept the darkness, they pulled at it, drawing my shadows in.

Aether's eyes went molten. His hand locked around my wrist with bruising force, and for a moment, I thought I'd made a terrible mistake. But instead of pushing me away, he pulled me against him, his other arm wrapping around my waist until there was no space left between us. Our faces were so close I could feel his breath against my lips. The shadows continued their transfer, and something about his reaction—the way his pupils had blown wide, the way his fingers dug into my skin—made heat rush through my veins. Heat that suddenly felt like something deeper. Something that meant more.

At that moment, Aether blinked as if returning to reality. He shoved me back, breaking the connection. "Don't ever do that again," he growled .

"What—" I started, confused by the cruelty of his response. "I was just trying to help."

He took several steps away, running a hand through his hair. The shadows now curled beneath his skin, restored but agitated.

"Aether, why are you?—"

A snarl cut through the air. Tryggar's massive form shot past us, charging toward something in the distance. Nihr was already moving to follow.

"Stay here," Aether ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument as he raced after them.

I stood there, heart hammering, still trying to process what had just happened. And why did I feel like I'd crossed some invisible line I hadn't known existed?

I sat heavily on the ground, pressing my palm against my forehead. The intensity of Aether's reaction had startled me, but what scared me more was my own response. The way heat had flooded my veins, how my heart had raced at his touch. Guilt churned in my stomach as an image of emerald eyes flashed through my mind.

Time stretched as I waited, the forest growing quieter around me. Maybe I should look for them. But which direction had they gone? The trees all looked the same now, thick and towering.

"They ran into a small herd." Aether's voice startled me from behind. I let out a sigh of relief but kept my gaze down, still too uncomfortable to look at him directly. "Found a spring nearby too."

He held out his canteen. "Here. The altitude can be dehydrating."

I accepted without thinking, grateful for the distraction. The liquid hit my tongue in an instant, and the sensation was so magnetic that I pulled in several gulps before finally coming up for air. The water tasted off—like it had been sitting too long in the metal container.

It wasn't until I lowered the canteen that the silence registered. No wing beats, no heavy hooves against earth. Where was Tryggar?

My vision swam slightly, and I blinked hard, trying to clear it. Had the altitude really affected me that much? Why did I feel like this? Finally, I looked up, and my blood turned to ice.

Golden eyes had turned milky white.

"You should have stayed in your tower, lovely." Aether's features twisted into something else entirely as darkness claimed me.