Page 27 of This Vicious Dream (Kingdom of Death #1)

Madinia

I spend the night as far from both Kyldare and Calysian as I can while still remaining within the clearing. Kyldare attempts to strike up a conversation with Calysian a few times, finally falling silent when Calysian continues to ignore him.

Now that he’s got what he wanted, Calysian no longer needs to speak to Vicana’s right hand.

Twice, Calysian attempts to look at my ankle. And twice, I make sure my expression communicates exactly what I think of him.

I wrap it myself. It’s tender, but nothing is broken.

As soon as the sun rises, Kyldare spreads out a map and points out all of the regiments waiting for us. Calysian studies the map with a frown.

They certainly look cozy as they work together.

When it’s time to leave, Calysian directs Kyldare toward my mare. Fury rushes through me in a wave. “Absolutely not.”

Calysian gives me an impatient look. “He needs a horse.”

“Then he can ride with you.”

I’m slung over his shoulder and onto Fox before I can blink. I strike out at Calysian, my elbow hitting his gut, and he merely wraps his huge arm around my waist with a put-upon sigh.

My blood burns. “I hate you.”

“I’m not feeling particularly warm towards you this morning either,” he mutters.

Calysian’s arm tightens around my waist, as if he’s reading my mind, and his lips brush my ear. “You agreed to trust me.”

My chest is too tight to speak, so I just shake my head.

“We needed to get past this regiment.” Calysian raises his voice just enough that I’m certain Kyldare can hear him. “In all truth, we’re lucky Kyldare approached us. Vicana was clever, posting her regiments on three sides. We were trapped.”

I ignore him some more. And I continue to ignore him as Kyldare travels with us for three days.

Three. Long. Days.

We stop once at a small town—too small and too far from the coast from anyone to have heard of Daharak or her ship. But Asinia’s pigeon returns, and I watch Calysian for several long minutes before I write my reply.

I won’t be caught unaware again.

On the third day, we finally reach the crossroad Kyldare warned us about. We hear the soldiers before we see them—the low murmur of voices blending with the faint clink of metal against metal.

Our own horses are tied next to me as we stand on a small incline, Kyldare and Calysian a few footspans above me. The incline is too low to be considered a hill, but it’s forested enough that it allows us to see our enemies before they see us. At least a hundred men, most of them sitting idle, scattered across the crossroads in a loose formation. According to Kyldare, they’ve been waiting here for days, and even from here, I can smell sweat, oiled steel, and the musty scent of horses.

Helmets glint beneath the overcast sky, and a wide-shouldered general sits astride a dark mare at the center of the road, his ward already raised.

Kyldare narrows his eyes. “One of Vicana’s generals. He would have enjoyed hearing the queen demand my head.”

I ignore him. It’s not the general I’m interested in. It’s the witch at his side.

If Bridin were anyone else, I might feel pity when I look at her stooped shoulders, her thin bones, her gray hair. But my body reacts to her presence like an animal who has only known pain. The world seems to shrink, the trees surrounding us too close, tension vibrating through the air, pressing against my chest. My instincts scream at me to turn back, to run for my life. But something darker, deeper urges me to lash out. To make her pay .

As if he can hear my thoughts, Calysian slowly turns his head. His eyes are cool and calm as they meet mine, and my traitorous heart slows.

Kyldare gives Calysian a long look. “You said you have enough power for us to kill them all. I hope you’re not overconfident about your abilities.”

Calysian smiles, and Kyldare’s shoulders relax. He turns back to face the regiment.

My heart thunders in my chest.

“If I can’t have your life, I’ll gladly take your death. Think of me as you die choking on your own blood.”

Time turns slow and sluggish. Each heartbeat feels like an eternity. My pulse thunders in my ears.

But I don’t hesitate.

I aim my power in a burst, and the tree next to Kyldare is suddenly engulfed in flames.

He stumbles back, but I’m already twisting, shoving my hand into Fox’s saddlebag and lifting the chains.

Kyldare begins to move, and I direct my flames to his pants. He lets out a sharp yelp, dropping to his knees in an attempt to smother the fire.

I have one cuff around his hand before he understands.

“What—” Realization flickers in Kyldare’s eyes and he strikes out, his blade flashing toward my face.

But Calysian is there.

In a blazingly fast movement, he knocks the knife from Kyldare’s hand, shoves that hand behind Kyldare’s back, and clamps the other chain around his wrist.

The click of the second cuff is loud and final. I extinguish my flames. Kyldare’s legs are burned just enough to be painful, but not enough to cripple him.

I gape at Calysian.

The color drains from Kyldare’s face, terror stark in his eyes. “You fucking traitor.”

Calysian just gives me a wicked smile and turns, waving one hand at me. “By all means, continue.”

There’s no time to attempt to understand him now.

Ignoring Kyldare’s curses, I walk down the other side of the incline and into view.

The entire regiment comes to attention.

“Ah, Madinia,” Bridin says. “We were wondering when you would appear.”

“I have a trade,” I say, my voice carrying across empty expanse between us. I gesture behind me to Kyldare, and the witch angles her head.

“We have our orders,” she says. “Why would we not just kill you all?”

Her eyes are cold, reptilian. Oh yes, she would enjoy watching me die.

“You tried that once,” I say with a smirk, letting my gaze linger on the deep lines etched into her face. I glance back at Calysian. His stare burns into the witch, heavy with retribution. “Do you really want to try again? Let us pass now, and we’ll become the next regiment’s problem.” I nod toward Kyldare. “And you will have your revenge.”

“I will make you suffer if you do this,” Kyldare hisses.

Bridin stares at us for several long moments. I know what she’s thinking. She wants to kill us. Wants to make Calysian pay for what his power did to her face, her body.

And yet she’s not sure she can. Even with fifty soldiers at her back.

The general at her side doesn’t say a word. His presence is a formality. Everyone knows the witch will make this decision.

Bridin’s eyes shift to Kyldare, and I’m willing to bet she’s reliving every order he gave her in that tower, every snarled comment, every insult.

She smiles at me. “You are only delaying your fate,” she says. “But as you said, you will become the next regiment’s problem.”

I almost snort. Bridin will go back on her word the moment she can. Which means we need to stay one step ahead of her.

Kyldare begins to tremble—just as I trembled each time he ordered his men to restrain me in that tower. “Please,” he croaks, turning to face Calysian.

Cold rage fills Calysian’s eyes. “You never should have touched her. And you definitely shouldn’t have caged her. Remember that as you succumb to what is sure to be an agonizing death.” His smile is dark and feral as he leans close to Kyldare, lowering his voice to a whisper. “As you die, your last thought will be this: Harming Madinia Farrow was the biggest mistake of your life.”

My heart stops, and then starts again, beating irregularly in my chest. I take a deep, shuddering breath as Calysian takes Kyldare’s arm and hauls him toward the witch.

I stay put, watching as Kyldare fights desperately for his life. But the chains have left him vulnerable. Powerless. Weak.

Perhaps I should show mercy. Perhaps I should at least feel some regret.

But I don’t. I feel vindicated. I feel satisfied. I feel content.

I hold my breath, preparing for duplicity from Vicana’s people, but they don’t move. Calysian unchains Kyldare and shoves him toward the witch. She immediately strikes out with her power, and Kyldare slumps to the ground. Several soldiers lift him, hauling him away.

Calysian slings the chains over his shoulder and saunters back to my side. He shows no concern for the soldiers surrounding him, his gaze fixed on my face.

Bridin gives us a nod, and with a wave of her hand, the soldiers begin to march south, leaving the trail empty.

I follow Calysian up the incline. He unties Hope, leading her toward me. His hands shift to my waist, but I grab his wrists before he can lift me onto my horse.

“Wait.” I press my hands to his chest. “I don’t understand.”

“I know you, and I knew what you were planning the moment you refused to sleep near me.” His hands tighten on my waist.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew? Why did you agree to Kyldare’s plan?”

“Kyldare wouldn’t have believed instant cooperation from both of us. He saw my agreement as a victory, and your unhappiness as proof I would not betray him. No one could miss the hurt in your eyes over the past few days. The betrayal.”

“And did you enjoy that? The hurt? The betrayal?”

He leans close. “I should have. Some part of me even thought I would. But no. I didn’t. I wanted to shake you for your distrust. And yet I can’t blame you for it.”

My throat tightens. “You could have stopped me. It would have been easier for you to get the second grimoire.”

His eyes are cool and clear as they meet mine. “I promised you I would make them pay for every second of life they stole from you. This is just the first. What I will do to that witch will be spoken about for centuries.”

My heart jolts. “Calysian.”

He cups my cheek. “Kyldare has made enemies amongst Vicana’s people. Now he’s a traitor. Vicana’s witch will keep him alive. Nothing we could do to him could be worse than what that witch will do. And there’s something particularly delicious about knowing the horror he turned on you will be turned on him.”

Volatile emotions war within me. Shock, relief, fury, joy—all of them merge, until I’m unsure what I feel.

My eyes heat. “What are we doing, Calysian?”

He places one finger beneath my chin, using it to tilt my head back. “You know what this is. Even as you refuse to admit it.”

I open my mouth, but I can’t find the words. Calysian just shakes his head. “Stubborn woman.”

His lips are warm and firm on mine, and he pulls away too soon, helping me mount Hope, before turning to swing himself onto Fox’s back. His ward forms around us, glittering silver in the weak sunlight. Neither of us speak as we continue past the regiment. Calysian is tense, his eyes scanning for any sign of duplicity from the witch.

I hold my breath, skin prickling. Still, I don’t speak until several long minutes have passed, and I’m certain we won’t be overheard.

“They’re going to come after us.”

“And yet you have a plan for that too. Don’t you?”

I can’t help but grin. “I left a map near your sleeping mat last night. It shows our route to the grimoire. Kyldare memorized it when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. He’ll give them that route up under torture, and Bridin will tell Vicana where to position her regiments. We just have to make sure we don’t go near that route.”

Calysian matches my grin. “Brilliant woman.”

My throat tightens. He hadn’t known about this part of my plan. For all he knew, we would be in more danger than ever before. And yet he’d gone along with it anyway.

“You don’t think Kyldare’s goddess will save him?”

“He has failed her. She would punish him just as harshly as the witch will.”

I think of the recognition in Calysian’s eyes when Kyldare spoke of the quake. “You know who she is.”

“Yes. She’s my sister.”

I stare at him. “Creas. The goddess of memory?”

He gives me a humorless smile before turning his attention back to the trail. “The ability to steal memories is just one of her powers, but that power is the reason she can make Kyldare forget her name. She is also known for her ability to shake the earth.”

“She caused the quake. Was she trying to kill you?”

The trail splits, and Calysian guides Fox left, the stallion’s hooves clopping against the hard-packed ground. This road is wider, scarred with deep ruts that twist and intersect—evidence of years of carts grinding their way through mud and dust. The trees are thinning out, but the scent of damp stone is still heavy in the air.

“No.” Calysian finally says. “She knew she couldn’t kill me from afar, even as weakened as I am now. She was trying to kill you .”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. To hurt me perhaps. To slow me down.” His shoulders tense, and he avoids my eyes.

Perhaps I should change the subject. “Which direction are we traveling now?”

His wide shoulders relax and he flashes me a grin. “We’re taking the main road straight to Aghalon. It’s a rather charming coastal city. We’ll rest the horses there. I’m assuming this wasn’t part of the route you created for Kyldare.”

“No. I doubted he would believe we would take a main road.”

His grin widens. “And neither will anyone else.”

“And the grimoire?”

“It’s in a temple outside of the city. We will get to it tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

Calysian’s being surprisingly forthcoming, although there’s little I can do with that information.

“Are you still hoping to get to my grimoire before I can?” he asks.

I sniff. “Of course not. I’m just here to make sure you don’t destroy my world, and to ensure none of your grimoires end up in Vicana’s hands.”

He shakes his head at my obvious lie but lets it go.

It hasn’t escaped my notice that Calysian hasn’t lost himself this close to the grimoire. The last time he neared one—as we approached the swamp—he became less human, distant, consumed, his mind fixated on his task.

Maybe…maybe as he gets closer to reclaiming his whole soul, he’s able to retain control.

Or maybe I’m just grasping at any hope I can find.

We fall into silence for the rest of the afternoon. Twice, we stop to water the horses and stretch our legs. The sun begins to sink, streaks of gold radiating outward, the sky painted with deep purples and soft pinks. I take it in, watching the wisps of cloud catching the light.

Awareness flutters across my skin, and I find Calysian watching me. “I enjoy seeing this world through your eyes.”

I shrug. “I never truly appreciated it until I was trapped in that tower. Each time my mind cleared and I was me again, I promised myself that when I finally managed to free myself, I would never take that freedom for granted again.”

In the distance, stone towers thrust skyward. The city of Aghalon is an uneven sprawl of slate-gray stone and copper roofs that glimmer like molten metal beneath the setting sun. A thick haze clings to the air above the city, and within minutes I catch the scent of burning wood and charred meat. My stomach rumbles.

As we approach Aghalon, I can see the distant movement of figures atop the city walls. Massive wooden gates loom at the western entrance, and we come across more people—carts loaded with vegetables and grain, carriages filled with nobles hidden behind velvet curtains, the occasional solo traveler making their way home.

My eyes are heavy, and Calysian responds to the questions from the guards at the gate. He leads us past several inns, continuing past a series of taverns and a bustling night market.

The streets become broader, laid with smooth cobblestones that glint in the dim light, free from the thick crust of mud elsewhere in the city. The buildings are tall and elegant—painted in soft creams, pale blues, and the occasional sunny yellow. Wrought iron balconies curl outward from the upper floors, draped with vines that trail lazily toward the street below.

Calysian dismounts outside an inviting inn with walls of worn, honeyed stone. Warm light spills out, and even from here I can hear the faint hum of music, the low murmur of conversation.

“I stayed here once, several years ago,” he murmurs, avoiding my gaze as I dismount. “I thought you might like it.”

Calysian turns the horses over to a stablehand. “Stables are around the back,” the stablehands says cheerfully. “We even have a grazing field.”

It takes me a moment to understand—a moment Calysian uses to take my hand, leading me to the inn’s entrance. He pauses before we walk inside, his mouth taking mine. His kiss is tinged with desperation, and he pulls me close, his arms wrapping tightly around my back.

And then it hits me.

Calysian chose this place as a gift. It’s a place where we will make final memories together before he takes his grimoire.

A gift…and a goodbye.