Page 26 of Of Nightmares & Fire (Elusive Umbra #1)

Chapter twenty-three

Kyros

I felt it again. That bristling magick urging me towards her like no other feeling I’ve ever encountered.

It has to be the relic. She has to carry it with her; there is no other reason that I would feel the magick coming from her like I know I have.

But the thing that is oddly bothering me more is the scent coming from her skin.

“What are you going to do?” Zinya asks as I strap my body with weapons. “You are supposed to be at breakfast in the morning. They will notice if you are not there.”

“I will be there.” I grunt, once again brushing her questions off.

“Are you going to tell Mavros?” I know what she is really asking. She really wants to know if this is something she is going to need to keep from him. I avoid answering.

“Where is my brother?” I ask, looking around the room one last time before I leave.

“He’s searching for the relic. He said he was going to ‘take a walk’ to see if he happened on the call of it.” She responds. “What you should be doing—instead of this .” She gestures up and down my body with her hands.

“So he’s still sulking after I took the spotlight off of him.” I say, and she scoffs.

“You did just what you told him not to do. Do you blame him for being upset?” She responds, and again, I don't give her an answer; instead, I level her with my eyes and purse my lips.

Zinya is one of my most respected commanders; she will always tell me how it is and will always have mine and Mavros' best in mind.

We were brought in by Queen Phaedra around the same time, and we have been inseparable ever since.

Living in the conditions we did for as long as we did together created bonds stronger than blood ever could.

“I’ve never seen you this— erratic —you have to understand my concern.” She says, coming to stand right in front of me, leaving me no other option but to face her.

“I’m not being erratic.” But even as I grumble the words, I know them to be a lie .

“You changed the plan. Your plan, on a whim, in front of the king, Kyros. What is not erratic about that?” She says with one brow hiked. I close my eyes and crack my neck.

“I will tell you again, as I told Mavros several times since being here. Something about this whole situation feels off. I am going to get to the bottom of it. The princess we thought we were coming here to play with while we searched for the relic is not the vapid doll playing pretty in the tower like I thought she’d be.

You and I both know it.” My eyes flick between hers, and she finally sighs, taking a step back and waving to the door.

“Just don’t get yourself killed. The kingdom needs you.”

“This kingdom needs more than a man; it needs a miracle.” I say before I make my way through the door and into the dark hall.

As much as I want to just rend a portal right here to take me where I want to be, I know that can be the last thing I can do.

Instead, I sneak through the darkened halls while everyone else is either sleeping or fucking and head to the stables.

It’s not surprising I make it all the way there with little to no interference from the king's guard. King Connard has gotten comfortable in this castle surrounded by people who fear him. His guards are lazy, and his grounds have holes with little defense. If they were attacked today, this kingdom would be taken. I have no doubt. The real shock is that he is considered as powerful as he is. He is nothing more than a pompous prick with a mouth that spews hate and hands that serve death to anyone small willing to create a ripple in the sand. Let’s see what happens with someone a little more challenging.

Someone who won’t make ripples but fucking sandstorms.

I hush Khol as he stirs. When I enter, the stable boy jolts awake, staring wide-eyed at me. He can't be more than twelve years old, sleeping in a bed of hay just like the animals he cares for. He's shivering, and since it's still fairly warm from the day, I know it’s fear that makes him tremble.

“You are right to be scared.” I take a step forward and reach into myself, calling my magick to my palm.

It's not a good idea, but it's the best I have in this situation.

If anyone catches me on this outing, it will be my neck they will aim to lasso with rope.

It won't end that way, but I would rather avoid the mess.

“I—I didn’t,” the boy stammers, trying to scramble backward.

He tries to create space between us, but it's no use.

He is cornered, and I am Hawk, death, a moth in the night.

My eyes lock with his, and as they do, he stills.

My hand comes out between us, and in my palm a pool of glittering black sand and shadows churns like a beautiful storm.

A sound like wings thrumming at the center.

“Sleep,” I say, then let the shadowy sand reach for him.

As soon as it hits his face, his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“And when you wake, remember only the nightmare in my place.” I help his body fall gently to the bed of hay.

Removing my cloak, I lay it over the boy.

Wishing there was more I could do, but this kingdom and the rest are fucked unless I get the relic.

And as it seems, I need to gain the trust of a princess in order to do that.

I take a look around the stables to ensure there are no other wandering eyes, and when I'm satisfied it's just me and the horses, I lean my forehead against Khol’s. “Ready, boy? We’ve got to be quick.” His answering chuff is as good as any.

I saddle him and guide him out the rear exit.

Peering out of the stable door, I check to see that the guards are not around, and just as I thought, it is clear.

I’ve been scouting every chance I get, and the fact that I have searched so much of the castle in so little time being here, it's clear the defense is awful.

I know I can get out and back without issue, unless luck is not on my side.

If Mavros knew what I was doing right now, I would never hear the end of it.

Throwing my hand out, the markings that are now exposed on my forearms dance along my skin, and the crackling shadows that flow from my fingertips catch fire.

The half-circle portal I render glows bright against the night sky; I don’t have to order Khol forward.

He and I step through the divide before we are seen, and as soon as we are both on the other side, I close my fist, and it snaps shut in a puff of smoke at our backs.

I came here for one reason. I need to know who supplied the princess with the Creshian balm.

I would know that scent from a mile away, and if she had it in Eathian, that means someone in the castle has magick or is in legion with someone who has magick, and I need to find out whichever it is.

Luckily, I know one of the only dwellers in the Creshian Forest left who likely created the balm.

Khol and I ride for what feels like hours before we reach the clearing where the moon led me to the dweller.

Her cottage is covered in moss and wildflowers.

The scent and cool air alone bring a sense of ease to my body.

The ever-building tension from my time in the Eathian desert washes away with a deep breath of crisp forest air.

The flowers smile at the moon’s glow as fireflies dance through the darkness and play with the stars.

It reminds me of the time I spent here when I was young.

The queen was always sending us on excursions to different areas of Eathian and the surrounding kingdoms to learn from its people.

“ Knowledge is what makes you powerful, boys. You will always be the most threatening in a fight if you know more than your opponent.” She meant that in every sense, and we trained as such.

Tying Khol’s lead to one of the low-hanging branches of the yew trees that surround the cottage, I pat him between the eyes before making my way through the long grasses and to the door. The door creaks open just as I am about to knock.

“Kyros. What brings you to my door in the middle of the night?” Kaeleith says, her white eyes looking directly past my shoulder.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” I learned a long time ago not to question how she knew if it were me or Mavros, or anyone else for that matter.

She can no longer see at all with the centuries of age on her.

Never once has she seen our faces, and even now, with nothing more than arriving without a word, she knew it was me.

“Since you know that I am here, I assume that you know why I am here as well?” I ask, my tone not giving any of my frustration away.

The forest is imbued with more magickal properties than any place I know of, other than the Dead Sea itself, and Kaeleith is just as old as some of the oldest trees and in many ways imbued with the same elements .

“Aye,” She smiles, a devilish smirk, her gaze wandering around the cottage as she guides me to sit in front of a fire where she has a cauldron heating over an open flame.

She crouches down lower than her old bones should allow and begins stirring the liquid inside before her head tilts in my direction.

“I made the balm, and I make more now. You will take it back with you. Go now, ask your questions.”