Page 51

51

Reyla

“ W ill you return to your suite, my king?” Talvon asked from behind us as we entered the hall.

“I'll call for a light meal,” Lord Briscalar added.

“No,” Lore barked before lowering his voice. “No. We… My queen and I have something we must do. You're all dismissed.”

Lord Briscalar shuddered. “But?—”

“I said you're dismissed.” There was no denying Lore when he spoke in that tone of voice. “Leave us.”

They filed away, only Briscalar and Talvon shooting us concerned looks.

“I don't think they should be with us now,” Lore said in a low voice.

“You want to go back to the throne room,” I said equally softly.

Prager had killed Erisandra to keep her from saying anything more, and I assumed we hadn't seen the last of the wizard yet.

His mother had died for sharing clues.

“I need to discover what Mother meant,” he growled through clenched teeth, taking my hand and urging me down the halls and to our suite, where we quickly changed into leathers and fully armed ourselves. I’d collect my daggers in the throne room. I felt naked without them.

As we dressed, there was no teasing. No touching. Only warm looks that held endless promise.

Farris paced beside us, small growls ripping up his throat.

I stooped down and called him into my arms, wrapping myself around his trembling body. “It’s alright. Everything’s fine.”

Looking up at me, I could swear he glared. He ducked away from me and paced some more, his fur brushing against me with each pass.

“Ready?” Lore asked after he’d secured a final blade to his thigh.

At my nod, he held his hand out to me. Our fingers linked, he tugged me into his arms and flitted us to the empty throne room.

When we landed, Farris glared up at me from where he’d pressed himself into my side.

A sweep of Lore’s hand, and I felt the room ward, its power surging over me, keeping anyone else from entering. As I retrieved my daggers, grateful to secure them in their sheaths, he crouched down beside Farris, stroking the nyxin’s ruff. “I’ll return him to our room. It won’t take me long.”

Farris backed away, his spine bristling and a growl snapping up his throat.

“I think he wants to stay with us,” I said.

My nyxin backed into me and his fur softened .

“I want you safe, little guy,” Lore said.

Farris blinked up at me before trotting over to the rubble left by the explosion of Lore’s earlier magic. He sniffed the area and whined before he started to dig with his front paws.

Lore and I shrugged at each other.

“We’ll keep him safe,” Lore said. “It starts here. Now. I have to do something . I mourn.” His face cracked. “So much. For what I didn't see. For what I've lost. But in here,” his hand smacked against his chest, “I know I have to act.” His icy composure snapped back into place, and the cold fire in his eyes masked something deeper. Fury. Grief. Determination. “We’ll find whatever it is. Her death—” He pinched his eyes shut, his jaw locking tight before he opened his eyes again. “She will not die for nothing.”

I nodded, my heart thumping in an uneven rhythm. As we joined Farris, the acrid tang of Prager's magic still hung in the air, mingling with the tinge of coppery blood and ancient dirt.

He dropped to his knees beside the fractured remains of the throne room floor and nudged Farris gently to the side.

“Should we get tools?” I asked.

“We should, but we won't.” He looked up at me. “I sense where we need to go can't be reached unless we show solid effort. But magic? I have plenty of that roaring around inside me, and I need to blast it somewhere.”

He pressed his palm to the warped marble.

The first tiles ground together with a deafening scrape, shuddering as they rose under the force of his power. Splinters of stone mixed with dirt burst upward as the floor gave way, cracking around him, baring dry earth beneath. Only the section he knelt on remained intact.

Lorick flung the tiles aside, and his focus tunneled deeper. His control over the destruction was terrifying and amazing at the same time.

His knuckles bled as he clawed at the dirt with his bare hands.

“Why not use magic now?” I asked softly.

“Tried.” He didn’t look up, but the desolation in his voice… “It’s not working below the floor.”

“Do you think blades are alright?” I asked. “Or can we magic a shovel?”

He finally glanced up at me, and his hands stilled, coated in dirt and streaks of blood from his gouged knuckles. That look he gave me… By the fates, I could feel the rawness of it hitting my chest. It wasn’t anger, not entirely. I also saw guilt. Utter sadness. Too much pain there, as well. “I don’t know how to magic a shovel.”

“I could find one.”

“I don't sense we can't use blades.”

He took one from me with only a slight upward twinge of his lips that smoothed out too fast. “I knew you'd get use out of these, Wildfire, but I never thought it would be in a situation like this.”

“They’ll need work after.” Some people would be horrified at the thought of using gorgeous weapons like this to dig.

“I’ll repair them or make you new ones.”

Dropping to my knees beside him, I stabbed a dagger into the compacted soil and began to hack at the dirt in quick, determined drives. Each strike with the blade kicked loose small chunks of earth that I flung aside with my free hand. Lore did the same with my other blade, his arms coated with grime as he scraped deeper and deeper.

Farris joined in, his front claws scrambling at the soil, loosening it.

We dug in silence, Lore climbing down into the hole we eventually created, Farris landing beside him with one bound .

Lore dropped my blade to the ground only to hold his hands up for me to slide off the edge and into them. He caught me at the waist and gently lowered me beside him, giving me a quick kiss before retrieving the blade.

“You’re mussing your lovely hair arrangement,” he drawled with a hint of his old spunk. He tugged on a clump of strands that had slipped from the pins.

“And you’ve mussed your lovely leathers,” I pointed out in the same tone.

He only gave me a sad smile.

The sounds of scraping metal and shifting dirt echoed in the throne room above. My hands burned, and my breaths came in short bursts. We flung dirt up onto the marble floor before attacking the base again.

Farris huffed and snarled and put as much energy into this as we did.

“How did Prager get past the Sentinel Veil without us being warned?” I asked. My shoulders ached, but I didn’t care. I poured all I had into tearing apart the ground, as if I could claw my way toward something with meaning, toward purpose, toward whatever might be buried beneath the soil.

He paused, his gaze seeking mine. “I’ve thought about that and…” He raked a dirt-covered hand through his hair, snarling it up and coating it with soil. “Or one of our staff may not have been as willing as we’d assumed.”

“Lord Briscalar. Talvon. Surren. Moira, Faelith, Calista. Which one?”

“I believe we need to find out.”

“Calista’s been a pain in the ass, but she confessed she loved someone, and he scorned her, stating she wasn’t good enough for him even with her new status. That shouldn’t have an impact on her loyalty, though. They’re all bloodsworn too. ”

“It’s been bothering me. I want to test them, but this…” He stared at his hands coated in dirt and streaked with blood. “I’ll do it. Soon.”

We continued digging.

Lore kept muttering under his breath, and I only caught fragments. “Hidden… All this time… Evergorne fools.”

Then the tip of my blade hit an object. Not stone or tile, but something different. I poked again, and a hollow thwack reverberated up my arm.

Farris backed away, releasing a yip.

“Here,” I hissed as I laid aside the blade and clawed at the dirt with my bare hands. “Lore, there’s something here.”

He pivoted closer, his body pressing alongside mine as his hands joined in at the spot I’d exposed. Together, we cleared away the dirt in a frenzy until the smooth edges of what I’d found emerged.

It had been crafted of a strange, pale stone, not typical of the throne room and not the marleene used to build the castle itself.

The dagger scraped against the stone again as he shifted the blade, searching for a seam or weak point in the surface. My fingers bled from clawing at the dirt, and a few scrapes along my knuckles stung. A damp, earthy smell filled the air, a reminder of how far below the throne room floor we’d dug, reaching for something we may never find.

“I don’t know what it is.” Lore brushed his hand over the pale surface we’d uncovered. Made up of an almost a perfect circle, the stone was about the length of my full arm. Faint carvings embedded in its surface were so worn from age, I couldn't make them out.

Leaning back on my heels, I slid hair from my face with the back of my arm .

Farris pawed at the side of the stone until Lore gently eased him to the side.

“Look.” With a fingertip, he traced one of the grooves encircling the stone while stroking Farris’s head. “Smart nyxin.”

Farris yipped.

“Do you think this thing was placed here to lock something in or keep everything else out?” Lore asked.

My chest twitched. “Keep what locked inside?”

He shrugged. “We're going to find out.”

“Keep my blade and your magic handy, then.”

“Always.” His focus tunneled in on the stone. I’d gotten used to that intensity, the way the rest of the world fell away when he homed in on something like this, but it never failed to make me pause. He contained endless force and purpose, yet he wielded it with such gentle care. After what he’d been though… He’d had a mixed relationship with his mother, but through it all, it was clear he’d loved her. How much of her recent behavior could be attributed to Prager? She appeared to be a savvy manipulator. She could’ve possessed Erisandra on and off for years, determined to do all she could to keep him from breaking the curse.

He had a right to feel devastated by this. She’d stolen more than his mother’s life; she’d taken possibly years of his mother’s affection.

When he turned the dagger’s tip toward the stone and fit it into one of the faint seams, I leaned closer. His shoulders tensed, his hands steady as he pressed down and wiggled the tip of the blade side to side, the flat stone creaking as it resisted.

“Careful,” I said.

His lips lifted in a bare flicker of dry humor. “That’s what you say right before you do something reckless.” He shoved the blade deeper, and the faint echo of groaning stone reverberated up through my knees. “There’s something beneath it. I can feel it?— ”

A hiss seeped out from the exposed gap, curling like dragon fire in the cool air. We both froze, and Lore’s gaze shot to mine. The hilt of the dagger remained in his grip, his knuckles starkly pale and still seeping blood as he held the small gap open.

My blood trickled away from a scratch on the back of my hand and plopped through the gap in the seam, a morbid sacrifice I hoped would not draw the attention of whatever might be lurking beyond this stone.

Stillness stretched through the air until I nudged Lore’s arm with my elbow.

“If something horrible leaps out, I'll defend you.” It wasn’t quite humor. The tension in my voice made sure of that. But it was light enough to make his features loosen. “I’m not afraid of whatever might be waiting below. Look at me, a woman who used to tremble before each raid, who put on such a good front that none of her friends saw through it.” My voice broke. “Not even Kinart.”

“I saw. I did all I could to show you that you had nothing to tremble about.”

He hadn't mocked me. In fact, he'd done all he could to help me grow into the woman I was today, one almost worthy of the crown I'd been given.

And the man who knelt by my side.

“That’s the thing about walking beside someone like you, someone who can strike down monsters and darkness alike. I learned to trust the fierceness you dragged out of me.” I’d learned to trust myself.

“You are strength personified.”

“Sometimes.”

“ Always . I wish you could believe in yourself the way I believe in you.” He edged the stone up a fraction more, enough that blackness opened up beneath. With a grunted groan, he wrangled the stone to the side, exposing a tunnel. A narrow, smooth, sloping thing that seemed to stretch forever down into the cold, brittle blackness. The air leaking from the gap smelled ancient, as though it had existed untouched for longer than anyone living could remember.

Lore sat back on his heels, bracing his hands against his thighs as he studied the opening. His sharp eyes probably caught every detail, while mine jumped between him and the strange passage we’d uncovered.

“Well,” I said, letting the word hang. “You first, or me?” I held up my finger, making the tip glow bright enough we both shielded our eyes. “I'll bring this along, shall I?”

A smile cracked across his face, the first real one I’d seen since we arrived in the throne room. It transformed his features, melting that edge of grief in a way that made me fall apart.

“In this, I’ll lead,” he said, the warmth in his tone enough to make my chest tighten with something besides dread. “But I’ll grant you the lead later if you’re extra sweet to me in between.”

I snorted, though it did little to wipe the heat from my cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“And still your favorite.”

I didn’t argue because we both knew it was true. And anyway, his grin had pulled another pang from deep inside me. Perchance this wasn’t much to give him with all he’d lost, but a touch of brevity was all I had to offer other than myself.

He sat and lowered his legs into the black maw. His movements were careful, and he paused before releasing his grip on the edges to glance up at me. His gaze lingered, studying my face—the lines, the curves, everything he already knew better than I did myself. As though he wanted to commit everything about me to memory.

“Follow me into the darkness, Wildfire,” he said, his voice softer now, threaded with something deeper than the teasing tone I'd come to adore.

After looking up at me one last time, he let go and slid away into the tunnel.

Vanishing.

“Hey!” I called after him, leaning over the edge to scowl into the abyss. “I’m the one with the light, remember? You should wait for meeee!”

His grunt echoed back, followed by an unmistakable smirk in his tone. “Stop dawdling, Reyla. I’ve got something interesting to show you.”

Farris leaped in and was swallowed by the tunnel.

With a huff, I eased myself down onto the edge. The slope swept away, into a swatch of blackness so deep it appeared alive. I sighed and thrust the tip of my finger into the hole, the flame revealing a steep incline below.

Magic swirled faintly in the air like an old hum awakening from slumber. And my body shook, though just a little.

“Coming, Wildfire?” Lore’s voice echoed up at me.

“Yup,” I muttered. Before my nerves could get the better of me, I let go of the edge and my body dropped away. The steep incline made me pick up speed fast, the soil and stone walls rushing around me as gravity pulled me down, down, down. My boots skimmed across the smooth surface underneath me.

The tunnel ejected me, sending me airborne, though only for an instant.

With an ungraceful thud, I landed hard on my ass, dirt and heat flaring through my palms as I brought my body to a halt on a grit-covered stone floor.

Lore’s legs projected upward a breath away from my face. I clambered to my knees and bracing my hands on his thighs, tilting my head back to look up at him. “How come you're standing? Didn’t you fall on your ass too?”

“I landed gracefully on my feet.”

“I don't believe you.”

“You think I'd lie?”

“Tell me a story that holds very little truth? Not you .” I tightened my grip on his thighs. “You’re fae, you can’t lie.”

He snorted.

“You can’t, right?”

His smile quirked on one corner as he peered down at me. “Lovely position you’re in, my pretty little bride,” he drawled, stroking his fingers through my hair. “Perhaps instead of letting you take the lead later, I'll find a good use for that pert mouth instead.”

“I'll find a way to talk around it if you do.”

Farris stood nearby, watching us, his fluffy tail wagging.

Lore’s laugh rang out. “I imagine you're right.” His brow lifted, and he offered me a hand, helping me to stand. He pulled me close enough that his breath brushed against my cheek. “I love that pert mouth of yours; wanted you to know. Almost as much as I love you.”

My face heated, but I stepped back. With my lit finger lifted, I peered around, though I didn't see much other than a stone-walled cave, a dirt-strewn stone floor, and another, larger tunnel stretching to my right, one swallowed by more darkness.

“I think we’re buried beneath something older than Evergorne Castle,” he said, his tone growing serious again as his eyes flicked toward the passageway.

“Or this was placed when the castle was built.” Did this relate to the curse? “The fates do sometimes intervene.”

“You could be right in that as well. Come.” He took my hand, linking our fingers. “I think this tunnel has been waiting long enough.”

“Keep your— my —blade at the ready.”

He chipped out a nod, his gaze already focused on the passage.

When Lore took the first step into the unknown, I walked at his side with Farris trotting just ahead.

The darkness consumed us.