Page 24 of This Vicious Dream (Kingdom of Death #1)

Madinia

When I return, Calysian is holding Fox’s lead rope as he takes him on a gentle walk down the trail. The horse nudges at him with his nose, and Calysian murmurs something too low for me to hear.

“How is he?”

Calysian turns, guiding Fox toward me. “Surprisingly fine. I’ve been monitoring him closely, and we should be able to travel tomorrow as long as we keep the pace slow.”

“You’re not worried about Kyldare finding the grimoire?”

“Of course I am. But when I explore the link, I can’t yet sense our enemies approaching it.”

Fox nuzzles Calysian again, and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out an apple and offering it. “I don’t know why I worried about you.”

“I don’t, either,” I say. “That horse is invincible.”

Amusement flickers through his eyes, and he leads Fox back to the trees where we’ve tied the others’ horses.

I take a brush, grooming Hope, although I can see someone else has already brushed her today. Still, the long, sweeping motions calm the worst of my anxiety.

Until Asinia walks past, sending me an intent look.

Panic flutters in my chest.

I should never have agreed to this. I want to take my agreement back, want to refuse even the thought of such a plan. But…

Rythos strides toward Calysian, a smile on his face. Even without his power, he’s charismatic. Compelling.

It’s too late.

Threads of his power drift towards us, and I stiffen, my hands warming. But Rythos aims that power away from me, spearing it directly at Calysian.

My stomach swims, my mouth turning watery. This is wrong. Wrong .

“Calysian,” Rythos says, his eyes bright, his expression warm and inviting. “It has been a pleasure to get to know you. I hope we can be friends.”

He takes a step closer, and I can see a hint of strain in his eyes. He’s pouring every drop of his power into this.

I hold my breath, lungs burning.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then Calysian lets out a lethal, inhuman snarl, whirling to face Rythos. The temperature around us plummets, until each of my breaths become clouds of fog. Calysian’s eyes are cold and calculating, his expression feral. I clamp down on the urge to step between them.

Rythos continues to watch Calysian with that easy smile, but I know him well enough to catch the hint of disquiet in his eyes.

And then Calysian is moving, blazingly fast. Asinia sprints towards us. “Stop!”

But it’s too late. Calysian wraps his hand around Rythos’s throat, his teeth bared.

“Do you think I have no knowledge of your power? I’ve met many such as you through the centuries. Tell me,” he lowers his voice conversationally, ignoring Rythos’s struggles, “how many times have you used that power on Madinia? Is she truly your friend ? Are any of them?”

Rythos jerks his hand, and a scream rips from my throat as he sinks his blade into Calysian’s forearm.

I sweep my flames toward both men. I’m careful, aiming for their clothes and banishing the fire before it can do more than singe their skin. Still, it shocks them enough that Calysian loosens his hold, and Rythos jumps backward, staring at the ruins of his shirt.

He shakes his head. “I liked that shirt.” His voice is hoarse, the bruising around his throat already beginning to heal. His eyes are grave as they meet mine. “He’s a monster, Madinia. You deserve better.”

Calysian flinches. Refusing to look at me, he turns and stalks into the forest. A hot ache spreads through my chest.

Asinia trembles, her breaths coming in sharp pants, and even Demos looks spooked as he pulls her into his arms. With a muttered curse, Rythos disappears in the other direction.

“Well,” Demos says. “That didn’t work.”

I narrow my eyes at him, and surprisingly, he smiles back. “Powerful bastard. I’d almost be impressed if it didn’t mean we were in big trouble.”

Asinia shakes her head at him, and Demos grins down at her, dropping a kiss to her forehead. He’s…different than he was three years ago. Quicker to smile.

He mutters something about hunting for dinner and leaves us alone in the clearing. I move back to the horses, and Fox snaps his teeth in my direction, as if even the stallion is judging me.

“Are you going to go after him?” Asinia steers clear of Fox as she strokes Hope’s neck, her eyes on me.

I shake my head. “Not yet. He needs a little…time.”

“You had to try,” Asinia murmurs. “And now we know.”

“Yes.” My voice is bitter. “Now we know.”

“That might have been the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” Eamonn says conversationally, jumping down from the tree branch above our heads. He’s in his panther form, his muscles bulging beneath sleek fur.

My heart jolts, and when his eyes meet mine, I’m engulfed with hot shame.

“I didn’t hear you offering any brilliant plans,” Asinia says, and Eamonn just stares at her. He doesn’t bother looking at me again, just slowly prowls back into the forest.

I study Asinia. The last few years have been good to her. The thin, hunted look most of us had worn so well during the war is nowhere to be seen. Her arms are toned, her face no longer gaunt. Knowing Demos, he still insists on training her himself every day.

We’ve had no time to truly talk about everything that has happened since I left. And I’m suddenly desperately curious.

“You were going to be a seamstress,” I say.

A hint of grief enters Asinia’s eyes and she gives me a shaky smile. “We can talk about that later. For now, I need you to make a decision.”

“What kind of decision?”

“I think Demos, Rythos and I should go look for Daharak. After what just happened, Calysian likely won’t tolerate us traveling with you to find the grimoire. And if Vicana is as dangerous as you’ve said, we may need Daharak’s fleet.”

Grief threatens to swallow me whole. “They’re gone, Asinia. It’s the only explanation for the fact that no one has seen them.”

Asinia frowns, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If by gone you mean they likely sailed north when they couldn’t find you.”

I stare at her. “North?”

“To the northern continent. We don’t have proof,” she cautions. “But most of Daharak’s remaining fleet were seen in those waters. It makes sense that she would have met up with them after you disappeared. We have a ship. And I think we should look for them while you continue on with Calysian.”

“Yes,” I say, barely breathing. “I’d like that.”

“It’s settled then. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Despite my newfound hope, my chest tightens. “I don’t want you to go.”

Surprise flashes through Asinia’s eyes and she grins at me. “You’re making progress. You never could have said those words in Eprotha.”

I walk back toward the fire, the familiar warmth of the flames offering little comfort. “Everything I learned about friendship, I learned from you, Prisca, and Daharak. And then I was all alone. For three years. It did something to me, Asinia. The loneliness, combined with the grimoire I used…it made me a little…mad. I sunk power into the thorns surrounding my prison and grew them large and sharp enough to kill. And I reveled in their deaths.”

“Do you think anyone could blame you for that? Do you think Prisca would? All of us have done things we’re not proud of to stay alive.”

“But have you enjoyed them the way I did?”

Asinia tuts. “You’re so quick to paint yourself as a villain, Madinia.”

I shrug, and we fall into silence as we begin to pack for tomorrow morning. Each time I close my eyes, all I see is the rage in Calysian’s eyes, the cold wrath when he thought Rythos had used that power on me.

He would have killed Rythos if he’d learned he’d aimed his power my way. And yet I allowed Rythos to attempt such a thing with him.

Rythos returns, his gaze flying to mine as he strides across the clearing with the fae grace I used to loathe. “You can barely look at me.”

“You did what we asked. I don’t blame you.” I, more than anyone, know what it cost him.

He sighs. “And yet you blame yourself. You once told me that if we were going to win, we had to use every weapon available to us.”

“That’s the problem. It doesn’t feel like winning when Calysian is going to lose so much.”

We eat, feed the horses, talk quietly to each other. But Calysian doesn’t return. I’m distracted, unable to enjoy my last night with the others. It’s only the knowledge that Calysian wouldn’t leave Fox behind that prevents me from searching for him.

Clearly, he wants to be left alone.

I can’t blame him.

The sleeping mat is narrow, and yet it feels empty without his large body curling around mine.

Annoyance flashes through me. I swore I wouldn’t pine for Calysian, and yet here I am, already unable to sleep without him near me.

It’s infuriating.

Night gives way to dawn, the cool breeze stirring tree branches above my head, casting flickering sunlight across my face.

Finally, I abandon any hope of sleep, sitting up and curling my arms around my knees. I’m not the only one with heavy-lidded eyes. On the other side of the fire, Demos leans into Asinia, murmuring something that makes her smile before kissing his way down her cheek to her mouth.

I look away, swallowing the ache.

Wishing won’t change anything. Wanting is a waste of time.

I dress, eat, pack, attend to the horses. All while scanning the clearing for any sign of Calysian.

And then he returns.

His eyes are shadowed, his expression flat. He’s bandaged his arm, but I can see splotches of blood leaking through. He steers clear of Rythos, replying only to questions about our travels, and only with the occasional grunt.

Before I know it, before I’m truly ready, it’s time to leave. And this time, I hug each of them—even Demos. Calysian tightens Fox’s girth, nodding once at the others before turning to mount his horse.

“We’ll write,” Asinia promises.

And then they’re gone.

My eyes burn as I mount Hope, following Calysian back to the road. We ride in silence for hours, reaching the southern tip of the Lacana mountains and the border between Dracmire and Evethia. Eamonn is nowhere to be seen, although I’m sure he’s up to something. He was, after all, the one who found Asinia and the others.

When we stop to water the horses, Calysian finally speaks. “Did you know Rythos was going to attempt to snare me with his power?”

His words are a low rumble, and I have to force myself to meet his cold eyes.

“Yes.”

He stares at me for a long moment, as if expecting me to snatch the word back.

I force myself to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry. You’re a threat, Calysian. We had to know if you could be contained.”

His eyes ice over, and suddenly, I’m speaking with Calpharos.

“Contained. I’d have thought your experience with such horrors would keep you from inflicting them on others.”

I wince. “Calysian.”

“It was a good plan. Pity it didn’t work.”

“I—”

He mounts his horse, and nudges Fox into a canter. A dull throb begins in my temples, rivaling the ache in my chest.

The ground turns pitted and rocky, and we’re forced to slow our pace as we traverse the foothills. There are no signs of any temples here, but sharp ridges of stone lay across the earth, sparse patches of grass clinging to the rocky terrain, the blades yellowed and brittle.

Boulders—some larger than the horses—are scattered across the slopes, streaked with moss and lichen. The air still smells of pine and damp stone, although the trees have been replaced by twisted shrubs.

The path slopes unevenly with loose gravel. To our right, the valley sprawls into the distance, interrupted by rivers that glint like molten silver in the sunlight.

I catch Calysian’s eyes on my face, intent on my bruised cheek. He seems obsessed with the evidence of Haldrik’s duplicity, and I give him a tentative smile.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

A bitter smile curves his lips. “And still you lie to me.”

“It…throbs occasionally. That’s all.”

A sharp nod. “I’m glad you got to see your friends.”

It’s a difficult subject—especially now. But at least he’s speaking to me.

“You…you don’t have many friends, do you?”

He glances away. “I have Eamonn. And I have…associates in various kingdoms. We’ve worked together over the years.”

But they’ve always died. I can see it in the tightening of his lips, in the way his eyes glint with ancient sorrow when he turns his head.

My skin suddenly feels too tight, my stomach twisting viciously. I’ve seen how touch-starved Calysian is, how he struggles to relate to mortals, even after walking amongst us for centuries. I saw the occasional crooked smile he gave Asinia when she teased him about his true nature. The hunger in his eyes when Demos and Rythos ribbed each other good-naturedly.

I dangled my own friends in front of him. And then I let them betray him.

“Calysian. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I would change what I did—we need some way to stop you if you become a true threat—but I never wanted to hurt you.”

His eyes blaze, and he opens his mouth. I set my shoulders.

Just as the earth bucks and rolls beneath us.