Page 15 of Of Nightmares & Fire (Elusive Umbra #1)
Chapter fifteen
Kyros
The guards demand attention as they storm through the city.
Their call for order has me bristling in frustration.
Sojourn edict, sojourn edict —it's all I hear from every corner, from every mouth all around us. I can’t risk running after her, not with a sojourn edict from King Connard placed on the kingdom while he hunts whatever it is he wants down.
I knew there was something about her. Something calling to me; something demanding my attention.
Yet, I let those ocean eyes tell me something else when I should have listened to the thrum of the magick in my veins.
There are only two possible reasons that she reacted the way that she did at the sight of the king's guards: she has magick, or she stole something important from the king.
“Dammit,” I say through gritted teeth as I pace the room she slept in for, likely, near the hundredth time. This is the second night since the rain stopped and the girl ran. I went back looking for any trace of the feeling I had with her here, but just as I suspected—it’s gone.
Gone with her. I haven't slept, even though night has come and gone and morning shines brightly through the window now.
“Do you think that we were just picking up on the magick in general, or do you think she actually stole the relic?” Zinya comes in and stands in my path, forcing me to stop and acknowledge her.
It’s not the first time she's asked the question. I just don’t know the answer, so I haven’t given her anything.
“You’re going to have to talk eventually.
The guards are just entering the building across from us.
They are searching every building in the kingdom.
Whatever they are looking for…it’s valuable to the king, Kyros,” Mavros says from where he is leaning in the doorframe, his arms crossed over his body and his ankles crossed just the same.
“I don’t have a fucking answer. I don’t know what to say or to do right now.
Is that what you want to hear?” I pin my glare on him, and his answering one is just as sharp.
“ For once , I just don’t fucking know what to do next.
Let me think.” I guess that’s one thing we have in common.
When it comes down to it, both Mavros and I are absolutely lethal when it comes to our anger.
Silent fury you don’t see coming until we erupt.
That look in his eye, I know, matches mine; it's the only thing our twin genes gave us alike.
“We’re out of time to think,” Zinya says, pulling our attention to the window with a jerk of her head.
“They are coming in now.” I step up to the window, peering over the ledge, and see the glint of the sun off the shiny metal of the guard’s armor.
The armor has to be more of a nuisance than it is a protection.
All for show. Anyone who knows anything about combat would be able to see that the only thing all that metal does in the cruel Eathian sun is bake the person inside, making them nearly useless in a fight.
“There is only one way to find out if she stole the relic. We need to get into the palace. Let’s meet the guards downstairs. Remember the roles.” I say, storming past Mavros; he takes a step out of the doorway just in time to miss the clip of my shoulder.
“Here we go,” I hear him rubbing his hands together like this is some sort of game, and it takes everything in me not to whirl on him and tell him to keep his fucking head right.
The guards tear through the door just as we make it to the bottom of the stairs, and they come in just as I knew they would.
Eathian soldiers are always the same. They will run their people into the sand face-first every time.
Especially this far away from the palace.
The people in this outer rim are dispensable.
Useless to the king and mostly consisting of the Neer people. My people .
“Sit the fuck down. Remove all hoods and masks. We’re to see every face in this shithole!
” An older guard yells. His leathery skin and white hair make him look older than he likely is.
I glower at him as I look around the room at all the men and women who are a part of my unit.
Each one of them looking back to me, awaiting my command.
I give it with a simple nod and a tug on my ear, signaling them to listen.
Mavros and I don’t comply, but we aren't the only ones.
A man I don't recognize puffs his chest and hits his fist to the center, dropping his arm with a grunt. A Neer way of saying ‘fuck you.’ The guard’s lip curls right before he brings the butt of his sword up and connects it to the man's nose.
Another guard, with greasy brown hair and sweat-coated bronze skin, brings his steel covered knee to the back of the man's leg, making him instantly buckle.
Using a foreign tongue, he curses the men and their misuse of power.
It takes everything in me to keep my feet firmly planted where they are.
Especially when leather skin reveals a small knife at his hip.
“Magick! Don't curse me with your witchy language, you Kru!” The knife slashes along his throat without questioning. Without caring.
The rest of the room falls into a stunned silence as the one man who stood up to them is cut down.
Breathing heavily, the guard turns from the man before his life even leaves him to face us where we stand.
We are not like that man, though, and the apprehension is clear in his stance.
Our imposing size is that much more noticeable when everyone around has just shrank back by his tyrannical display.
“Do you have a hearing problem, son?” He says, trying to sound formidable, but as my eyes bore into his, we both know who would be left standing if he were to try anything.
My magick bristles under my skin and makes me antsy to release it, but now is not the time.
This man is not worth the trouble that would cause here.
“Perhaps you consider using a tone more respectful, and I would be more inclined to listen.” I say, lifting my chin so I look down my nose at him.
“And just who the hell do you think you are?” His voice cracks as he comes to a stop before me, crossing his arms and looking up to meet my gaze.
“I am Mavros Kahzal of Diemos, here to court the princess of Eathian. This is my brother Kyros. I think that it would be wise for you to stand down before you are put down,” Mavros says as he steps up beside me.
“Is that a threat to the king's guard?” The man scoffs.
“It’s a promise.” I growl as I step forward and cast him in my shadow.
“Well, now, now, boys…” Zinya steps forward, smiling wide and stealing all the guard’s attention with her looks.
The woman is dangerous in more ways than one, and she knows how to wield her weapons.
“I think what they mean to ask is if your men can escort us to the palace? We have been holed up here during the storm, and while Miss Ruby has been more than hospitable, the men are used to different conditions and are just rather on edge. I hope you can excuse their dog-like growling and posturing for dominance.” He melts a little more with every movement of her hands, every syllable spoken from her mouth.
Like she were a siren of the Dead Sea, her song lures them into a spell.
He is nodding before he even co mprehends what he is agreeing to.
I roll my eyes and strut right past him with Mavros on my heels.
The sun is already blistering. It radiates down on everything, causing the air to be thick and difficult to breathe.
I grit my teeth as my eyes adjust to the brightness I step out into.
The guards split, giving us a wide berth as we make our way to the stalls down the rundown street where we housed our horses.
Khol chuffs when I walk into the stable, his deep silver fur shining in the dimly lit stall at the end.
Beside him, Eidola, Mavros’ white mare, shakes out her blonde mane with a whinny when he steps in behind me.
The huge dune horses are as much in tune with us as our magick at times, and just like our magick, they have been bristling the moment we stepped foot over the border back into Eathian.
Lifting my hand, I run it up the velvety, scarred nose of my steed in hopes of calming him.
“Shhhh, I know.” I lay my forehead on the flat between his eyes and continue to rub him down with my hand.
“It’s hard for me to be back too.” Even though I hardly recognize the city, it clearly recognizes me.
The energy just being here makes my magick hum, but I push that feeling away and focus solely on the purpose of my coming back here.
“What has gotten into you two?” Zinya comes to a stop with her hands on her hips. “Threatening the king's guard and making me openly use my magick?”
“They didn’t know.” Mavros rolls his eyes dramatically as he begins saddling Eidola .
“She's right. It can’t happen again. We need to focus.” I grunt as I pull the billet strap tight around the barrel of Khol’s chest. “No more magick. No more games.”
“Yea, yea… No more fun. Got it.” Mavros says under his breath, and I give him a sidelong look before guiding Khol back into the elements.
His long lashes flutter mostly closed to protect from the tiny sand particles on reflex, even though it is right after a rain and the sun hasn’t quite dried the granules enough to allow them to become airborne in the light breeze we are granted.
Even on horseback, the short journey to the palace gates is long.
The devastation the storm did to the town is nothing compared to the devastation on the faces of the people it affected.
Some streets are still not usable because of the heavy water accumulation.
At least they have more fresh water now.
A commodity that they are always low on.
As we approach the gates, which I once thought I might never see again, Mavros stiffens at the same time I smell the stench that permeates the air.
It's not the gates or where they lead that has him sitting a little straighter. It’s the display that is mounted on either side.
The bodies that hung from a noose for all to see now burn where they have fallen.
They don't burn in respect for the souls that they carried, but as a means to dispose of the bodies the souls once had.
Rage consumes me inside like a tempest as I do everything I can to remain unfazed by the sight on the outside.
My fingers blanch as I squeeze the leather lead in my hand, and it's the only outward display of anger I can allow because just as soon as we breach the gates, we are met with the gaze of King Connard himself.
The throne-stealing murderer looks down on us from the interior balcony that overlooks the bailey.
“Come, you can dismount, and you will be shown to your room. Dinner will be served soon. It's best that you hurry along so you can get cleaned up.” An older gentleman says as he guides us to the stables along the northern-facing wall. He continues rambling on about how, as luck has it, the princess’ beauty is unmatched.
Spewing things about the health of the kingdom.
All lies, I’m sure. I can't pay attention, though, not when my mind is elsewhere. I begin pushing my magick out to look for the relic, and the first thing it finds is a familiar essence. Blue eyes flash into my mind like lightning, but I push it away. If she didn’t steal the relic, she doesn’t matter.
The only thing that can matter from here on out is that damn relic.
If she did steal it, it’s only a matter of time before our paths cross again.