Page 20 of Winds of Darkness

Gritting his teeth, he regained his footing and pulled himself up, his fingertips digging into the ledge he was holding onto. He’d always used his gifts to find his way into the cliffs, to find that weakness in the wards, but he was conserving every drop of his magic tonight. Moranna knew he was here with that enchantment she had around the islands, but she never seemed to tell anyone when he would come to wreak havoc. The guards were never on high alert. He’d surprised Feris in his godsdamn rooms. He was banking on her not telling them he was here this time either, and he didn’t want to run into any of them. Which was nearly impossible without his magic since he’d need to go through the hidden entrance.

Which was why he was climbing the fucking cliffs.

Because near the top, there was a ledge that served as a balcony for Moranna’s rooms. The ledge was small. Just enough room for a small table and two chairs. The ledge itself was sunk into the cliff side and not visible from the outside. It was her other failsafe. When he had resided here, he was fairly certain he was the onlyone who knew about it. He didn’t know if that was still the case or not, but it was his only way in without using any magic.

He was hoping once he made it up there, he would have some time to try to figure out where the entrance was to this secret passageway she’d used the night she’d killed Breya in front of him. From what he could piece together, she had more secret rooms where she was keeping Aravis and the most powerful. If she was in her rooms, he’d deal with it, but he was hoping it was early enough in the night she wouldn’t have retired yet. If her habits hadn’t changed over the decades though, she wouldn’t come to bed until well after midnight.

The dagger the Fae Queen had given him was strapped to his belt beneath his cloak. He had shirastone knives down his boots, and twin short swords strapped to his back with Fiera steel. He still had that arrow with a deathstone tip stored in a pocket realm too, but if his magic was inaccessible, he wouldn’t be able to get to it.

He heaved himself up onto the ledge, staying in a crouch as he surveyed the space. The moonlight couldn’t even reach into the dark space of the alcove. There was no railing, nothing that would make a passing ship think something was up here.

Rayner moved silently into the shadows, stepping around the table and chairs and pushing open the glass doors. He felt the wards ripple around him. He didn’t know if Moranna was able to tell exactly where he was, but either way, he didn’t want to waste time. Pulling his hood down, he took in the rooms. Nothing had really changed. A sofa in front of the hearth. A large walk-in dressing room and attached bathing room. A small dining set. A large bed off to one side.

The male in it though.

That was new, considering that had once been him.

If he was her new personal guard, he was shit at it. The male hadn’t even stirred when he’d entered. Rayner didn’t have time to play tonight though. He gathered smoke from the fire in the hearth and sent it straight into the male’s lungs, overwhelming him before his Fae instincts could try to counteract it and heal him.

When he could no longer hear the male’s heart beating, he shifted his attention back to the rest of the room. He took in the walls, how furniture was arranged, where decor was placed. Anything that would give him some type of clue as to where the entrance to this secret passageway was. When he came up with nothing, he released his ashes, letting them feel along the cracks and divots in the stone.

He was about to give up when the ashes called him into her dressing room. He followed their path, black and white dust fluttering to the floor, guiding him behind a section of red gowns that he shoved to the side. There was nothing remarkable behind them. The wall was pristine white stone. No grooves or cracks or indents.

He swiped his hand down his face in frustration before he ran his palm along the smooth expanse, searching for a trigger of some sort, startled when he left a smear of blood in his wake. The wound above his brow, he realized. He was keeping a tight leash on his magic, which included his ability to heal himself. But the smeared blood was flaring slightly, appearing to glow, and then an archway was appearing. Just like the main entrance that appeared in the presence of the brand beneath his skin.

Stone steps descended, torches lining the walls every few feet. These walls were not the white of the colony though. They were brown and weathered, like the outside of the cliffs. Pulling his hood back up over his head, he stepped inside, making his way down. It was nearly five minutes before he reached a passageway that branched off from the still-descending stairs, and Rayner took it, not wanting to overlook anything.

There were wooden doors lining the passageway, all of them containing small windows with shirastone bars across them. When he peered in a few, he found basic living quarters. Beds, sofas, hearths. They appeared to have bathing rooms attached as well. Some were empty while some rooms also contained sleeping Fae who all appeared healthy and well nourished. He wondered if their eyes would look as haunted and dead as so many of the others in the colony looked if they were awake.

He kept going, checking each room for signs of Aravis, but when he reached the end, he hadn’t found her. So he trudged back, descending the stairs once more. It was ten minutes before he reached another passageway. There were wooden doors down this one too, but they were far more interspersed. There were no windows on these doors either. He checked every one of them. One appeared to be a records room. Rows and rows of shelves stacked with papers. Another was a small library with books lining the walls. He continued along, finding more of the same, until he came to a room at the end of the passageway.

This one had double doors, and they weren’t wood like the rest of them had been. These doors were heavy stone, intricate carvings etched into them. He traced his finger along one of them, realizing they weren’t symbols at all but a language. The wards were stronger around this room, and he loosed some ashes to find their way in, seeking out the weak spots. It took longer than he expected, and it took far more of his magic than he liked to work out a point past them. But he found it. A hairline crack near the center, just enough for him to get through in his smoke.

He materialized on the other side of the doors, finding himself inside a large room. There were various tables throughout. Some had cauldrons smoking atop them. Others had papers and books strewn about. There were some with herbs and plants. There were five different hearths, all lit.

An apothecary room, Rayner realized. This was a large apothecary room like the Witches had. Eliné had said Moranna had been extensively trained by a powerful being who had taught her the way around spells and blood magic. He was looking at the proof of that.

He took a few careful steps into the room, not wanting to upset any of the potions brewing or elixirs cooling. Activating even one of them could alter all of his plans. He made his way over to some of the notes, muttering a curse when he again found them all written in a language he could not read. The books were the same.

His gifts were buzzing beneath his skin, and he let his ashes out,if only to release some tension. They speared across the room to a bookcase, and Rayner followed. A few of the shelves held books. A couple of them held various instruments and scales, but on the middle shelf was something else. On one side sat a replica of what he could only assume were various worlds that were thought to exist. Which one was their own, he couldn’t say, but beside the replica sat another sphere off by itself. This one had symbols too, but they differed from anything he had ever seen. The symbols seemed to move, fading in and out in a way that held him captive. He didn’t realize what he was doing when he lifted a hand, reaching for the thing, too mesmerized by it to note his own actions.

The tip of his finger skimmed over it, all the symbols fading away so it was nothing but a light grey orb. He called some ashes forth, letting them drift around it, but the symbols did not return. Nothing happened at all.

He let his hand fall to his side at the same time a female voice said from behind him, “How incredibly disappointing.”

He spun, finding Moranna standing in the doorway. Red dress. Black hair with red streaks pinned back. Dark eyes. Red-painted lips. Exactly as she had looked the day she’d sent him from these very walls.

“Moranna,” Rayner said, his tone dark and cold.

She stepped into the room, graceful and fluid as ever, moving to a table. She stirred a cauldron, sprinkling crushed herbs into it. “I see you have finally returned home with purpose.”

“I have had purpose every time I have returned to these wretched islands,” Rayner spat, calculating her every movement.

“I have let you come back here. Let you get this vengeance you seem to need. I have not interfered once, but last time, my Ash Rider …” She trailed off, moving to another table. “Last time you made a very unwise choice in regards to whom you took from me.”

“Feris was always going to die. Just as the rest of them will. It was only a matter of time,” Rayner retorted.

“Feris is not of whom I speak,” Moranna scoffed, bracing her hands atop a worktable and leveling him with a cold glare. “One ofmy most powerful vessels disappeared that day. I can only assume it was you.”