Page 45 of Of Nightmares & Fire (Elusive Umbra #1)

Chapter thirty-five

Astraea

The warmth of Kyros at my back and the chill his breath gives as it skitters across the nape of my neck as he leans in and whispers for me to sleep are the last things I remember before enviably submitting to the demand.

My eyes flutter closed, and like drifting on a cloud of smoke, I am taken into the space that lives between consciousness.

In this relaxed midnight euphoria, my body drifts on the dark wind.

The breeze that carries me through the ocean of darkness is far from cold, though; it’s more like the wind of a paradise.

Warm, calm, and fluid, until I am drawn to a flicker in the dark.

Sitting up, I look at the faraway spark of light with a curious tilt of my head.

That warm feeling I’ve come to notice around Kyros engulfs me, threatening to cast me alight if I come any closer.

My feet touch the ground, and dark earth crumbles beneath my bare toes as the dream state changes and trees begin to come into view.

The light feeling in my heart blows away with the shadows around me when I shake my head, and recognition slaps me in the face.

The muscle sinks like a stone into my stomach.

I wait for the thundering gallop. The screeching scream.

The flashing white trees as I speed down the dirt road…

but none of it comes. I’m standing in delirium as I spin in a circle trying to make sense of the scene.

The forest that surrounds me is silent as it stares back at me.

“Hello?” I whisper and hesitantly begin walking warily in the direction I’ve always been chased from.

No monster of the dark reaches its shadowy claws for me, but I know I haven’t left the place it haunts.

My feet pick up pace as I try to see beyond the dense brush, but the canopy is too thick.

It shadows what is beneath, other than the bark of the trees that are stark white; a fence of bones in the night.

With each step I take, the rocky dirt road crunches beneath my feet, and the more my heart begins to race.

Warmth tracks over my cheek, and I press my fingers there, thinking that tears have escaped.

To my surprise, it’s dry. Again and again the feeling caresses my cheek softly until I finally close my eyes and lean into the feeling.

“Shula. Come back to me.” I hear the deep whisper.

Feel it in the breath against my face. The heat tracks through my hair, and I feel it under the base of my skull.

“Come back to me.” My eyes flutter open.

Sunshine is blaringly bright in my bleary eyes.

Kyros’ face blots out the direct path, though.

It highlights around him like a golden halo around the darkest divine.

His brows dip deep as he looks down at me.

The heat on my nape is still there, cradling my head.

Slowly as I regain consciousness, I realize it is his hand and his fingers woven into my hair and holding me snugly to his chest.

“Kyros?” I say groggily, still not entirely sure if I have come out of the dream state.

“Yes, Shula. It’s me. Time to wake up.” He says, running his thumb along my cheekbone gently.

He kneels to my right, urging me to sit up with another hand pressing firmly on my back.

Once I’m seated, my eyes widen as I take everything in.

Khol and Eidola are happily eating some desert grasses just beyond where Kyros is to my right.

Palm leaves are sprawled out beneath me, and the tree they came from is providing the shade we are cast in.

Desert shrubs of shades of green and brown line my sight to the left, but it’s what is right in front of me that causes my breath to catch.

It’s like a vision from a dream. An alternate reality.

Something I have only seen in books and never imagined I would be able to see with my own two eyes.

“Is—this a mirage?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Pink and white flowers bloom from plants sprouting from the sun-bleached sand in beautiful bouquets.

Birds chirp and whistle overhead, from trees and while gliding through the heated air.

The beautiful song coming together with the sound of cicadas buzzing in the distance.

At the center of the vision, with tall cream-cast sand dunes as a backdrop, an oasis of crystalline water shines brilliantly.

It reflects the sun and splendor all around us.

“Welcome to Elysia.” Kyros says, looking away from me and to the small city sprinkled around the oasis. My eyes snap to him, my jaw falling open a small amount as I recognize the name.

“The land leading to the realm of the dead?” I whisper, as though the ghosts from the stories I have heard will come for me if I speak too loudly.

“You know of it?” He asks, offering me a hand as he stands.

“I have heard stories.” I say, accepting his outstretched hand and then dusting myself off.

Grit has settled everywhere from our travels.

The blowing sand, sweat, and the balms for protecting us from the sun’s harsh rays have me feeling the most dirty I have felt in a very long while, possibly ever.

My body aches, and I could probably kill for a drink and a bath.

“Surprising that a princess would be privy to such stories.” He chuckles.

“It would be, but I am not a normal princess, and I don’t much like being told what to do.” I shrug, and that chuckle rumbles from his chest once more.

“You don’t say…” He teases, one side of his mouth tilting up at the corner. “Let’s go, Shula. We need to get a room, a meal, and a bath. I think we are both—” My mouth falls completely before I snap it shut and cut off his words.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Mister Kahzal.” His smile flashes briefly before he narrows his eyes on me .

“Mister Kahzal was the man who raised me… You can find something better to call me if you refuse my first name, but I was merely suggesting we are both in need of some humanity after such a long couple days.” He wasn’t wrong. It's like he dove into my head and stole the thoughts right from it.

“I have to be honest…” I start, and Kyros takes my hand, clicking his tongue at the horses; they follow as he begins leading us toward the sandstone buildings.

“I hope that you are,” he says, and the brush over the back of my hand from his thumb causes heat that has nothing to do with the sun to bloom into my cheeks. I pull my hand from his, and he looks back at me with an indiscernible look on his face.

“I didn’t think that we would be stopping at a village so soon. If we are close to the palace at all, don't you think this is the first place that my father will look?” I ask.

“No. I don’t. Your father is, if anything, predictable.” He says, and I snort a laugh, earning another look from him, but I roll my lips. “Do you disagree?”

“No, actually, I agree fully.” I tell him, and his eyes narrow in a way that feels like he is trying to piece together a puzzle, and the puzzle is me.

“Anyway, we are currently in the opposite direction of where we are eventually headed. I figured this would be the last place your father would look. Seeing as my brother and I are gone with the coveted princess… he would think we have taken the direct path toward Diemos.” I think on that for a moment as we walk, humming my approval of that statement.

I know he’s right. My fa ther will put two and two together.

He already had suspicions raised after the few times Kyros spoke out on my behalf.

The small village is quiet as we stroll right into the center of it.

No one pays us much attention as they go about their day, harvesting from their small gardens near the waterfront.

They make baskets from dried palm fronds, and others are cooking in outdoor kitchens.

The sweet and savory mix of aromas wafting toward us makes my stomach growl in response.

Regardless, I close my eyes and take a deep breath of it.

Children are even happily playing in the sand and in the shady areas below the bundles of palms. A small smile is brandished on my face as I take it all in.

Such a stark difference to what I experienced in my brief time trekking through the outer rim of the city I called home.

Kyros acts as though he has been here a thousand times, taking no notice of any of it.

I watch the ruthless man walk through paradise like it is nothing until he chances a glance at me, catching me staring.

“Do you have something to say, Shula?” He asks, that same narrowing of his eyes on me. Never out of anger, but that curious consideration.

“Have you been here before?” I return a question, and he looks away from me as he answers and keeps walking to what I now see is a tavern near a marsh. It extends into the larger body of water just beyond.

“My duty to the queen of Diemos and my training have required me to travel broadly. This oasis is one I have come to many times.” He drawls out as though he is bored .

“Why would you need to come here?” I ask incredulously, just as we reach the stairs leading to a wooden wrap-around deck.

It's one of the only mostly wood structures as far as the eye can see.

One side of the building is wood, halfway over the water and on stilts; the other is made of sandstone, just as the other small dwellings.

The door bangs open just as a woman hobbles out.

Frail, white-haired, and keen golden-brown eyes.

Her tanned skin is weathered and wrinkled as the most parched leather, but when she slams her cane down, her knobby fingers wrapped around it so tight they blanch, and she curses… It catches me by surprise.

“Fuckin’ divine, it’s about time ya showed yer face.

What were ya hopin’ I’d kick the bucket before ya made yer way back?

Ya damn well know I’d be one of those ghosts they tell stories of.

Comin’ to haunt yer ass if ya didn’t come finish those jobs I ask’d ya to the last time ya were here.

” My eyes round as she rips into Kyros with her words and then flash to him to see his reaction.

He is unmoved. One eyebrow quirks up, and he looks at her pointedly.

“It’s good to see you too, Mortala.” The corner of his mouth slides into the hint of a smirk just as the woman’s cane comes whistling through the air toward Kyros’ head.

He catches it in his fist, his lips curling into a full grin.

Mortala must notice me rearing back at her caning Kyros and turns her sights on me.

My shoulders nearly touch my ears, and my hands are clenched in front of me, wrung tight.

“Who’s the girl?” She barks, not addressing me, but asking Kyros instead. Kyros looks at me for a long moment, his brows drawn as a million words cross his eyes. He settles on one.

“Sienna.” He finally says, which tells me this woman may not be as close as she seems to my travel guide. It seems to be enough of an answer for the woman, though, and with that she snatches the cane away from Kyros with a grunt and strides back through the door she so hastily exited.

Kyros places a hand on my low back, guiding me to follow Mortala.

Walking through the doorway, I am hit with a plethora of scents, ranging from savory to sweet or a pungent, rancid sour, making swallowing noticeably harder with how parched I am.

The whole lower level seems to be laid out like a tavern.

Although along one of the longest walls, it is an open balcony.

Plants in clay pots line the border with green.

Vines trail from the covered deck, and flowers hang from baskets in the corners.

The colors are richer than those of the only other tavern I had to compare, or maybe it's just the paradise beyond that makes everything just appear more vivid. I don’t realize that I have wandered until I reach the railing and lean over to look at the waters below the wooden deck.

“I have to go to one more place before I settle in for some rest.” I jump at the sound of Kyros’ voice, spinning around to face him. “A little jumpy, Shula?” His eyes flick from my eyes to my mouth and then back. I fold my arms over my chest.

“No.”

“Mm.” He hums in that way that sets my skin on fire.

“Well, while I am gone, Mortala has been instructed to ensure you are fed, hydrated, and shown where you can bathe. I’m not sure when we will be able to stop like this again.

Take full advantage of it. I won’t be gone long.

” He says when I open my mouth to say something, the way his eyes drift over his shoulder makes me narrow my eyes on him.

“Am I safe here?” I ask, following where his eyes just swept.

“We won’t be safe until we are back in Diemos.

Even then, you are a princess from a foreign kingdom.

The danger will be there too, but with me, you are safe.

” He reaches into his belt and pulls a small dagger from a hook, and I look at him confused as he presses the handle into my hand.

“Always be prepared to defend yourself.”

“I—Kyros, I don’t know how to use this.” I admit quietly, feeling the heat creep into my cheeks with every word. Verbally acknowledging the fact that I am weak, a burden, causes shame to fill my chest, and I look down at the small knife.

“Cut with the sharp end for now. We will go over more on the road. I won’t be gone long, and you are safe enough here.

” He says, and I nod. “Stay out of trouble.” He runs his thumb across the back of my hand that he still holds with the knife.

I swallow as I watch him walk away. As soon as he has disappeared, I stick the blade into my pocket.

It feels like an anchor weighing me down.

“Sienna, is it?” Mortala says coming from a back room and a swinging door.

I nod. “Well then, here’s yer food and some water.

Never have seen The Hawk bring such a meek girl around.

” I shrug my shoulders and sit on the stool at the bar where she placed a plate of colorful and steaming food.

I have to fight the urge to use my hands and shovel the food into my mouth like a barbaric oaf.

I settle on licking the salt from my lips before I take a languid drink of the water .

“Thank you,” I say breathlessly as I finally set the water down, trying not to choke as my throat reacts to finally being able to properly swallow.

“Ain’t no mind, I’m bein’ paid. Eat up and I’ll walk ya to tha’ bath house.” She says before hobbling back through the swinging door and leaving me alone again. Great, not even a proper bath.