Eliza swallowed and considered the other girl carefully. “I have necromancy,” she whispered, a weight lifting from her as she said the words. “I know it’s forbidden and everything, but the king thought that maybe… maybe my necromancy might actually help. I don’t know. But it’s helped so far.” She sucked in a breath, unable to look at the other girl. “I’m afraid to say anything to Dorin or Thorne. I don’t… I don’t want them to judge me for it or fear me. I’m afraid they’ll run away, because for so long necromancy has been feared, and I don’t want them to see me differently.”
Celia touched Eliza’s cheek; hands soft despite the callouses that lined her palms. Eliza forced her eyes to Celia’s and swam in the warmth of the other girl’s gaze. “I know you fear your magic. But you must not.”
“Witches have been hunted for necromancy.”
A soft smile tipped at Celia’s lips. “I know. But there are places—”
Eliza scoffed, fear rising in her chest. “Like the Labyrinth Mountains?” Eliza already knew what the Blood Witches thought of necromancy. While the magic was feared throughout the realm, that fear had never reached the tribes living within the mountains. They thrived on darkness and unnatural magic, and worshipped necromancy because of it.
“I never feared my magic before meeting the king. I knew it was dark—that’s common sense. It’s dark voodoo in New Orleans.” Eliza sucked in a breath. “But it wasn’t until getting the letter from the king that I truly started to fear what I could do, what it could mean for me and everyone I love.”
“You do not wish to have this power, do you?”
Eliza shook her head in response.
“Oh, dear girl,” Celia whispered. Her arms wrapped around Eliza’s shaking shoulders; Eliza wasn’t even sure when she’d started shaking. Her cheeks were wet, and she wondered if she’d been crying for long.
Eliza collapsed into Celia’s arms, the weight of her secrets finally shattering in her hands.
Celia cleared her throat carefully. “You know, I once lost a sister who possessed a magic similar to yours. For that she was killed by a creature made of shadows. I vowed to find a way to destroy it.” Eliza stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as Celia turned to her fully. “I will make a vow to you now to protect you. This magic does not have to be a terrible burden. It can be good, too.”
Eliza nodded, but that did not stop the fear that rose from her words.
Killed by a creature made of shadows.
Eliza couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one that haunted her dreams.
~
Celia and Eliza returned with their flowers and herbs tucked away in leather pouches. Eliza wasn’t entirely sure how to help in turning the camomile flowers into tea, so she handed that duty over to Celia. Kay had always been the one to work with the herbs and flowers after they’d been picked. Eliza had never been properly taught.
She sighed heavily and dropped onto her bedroll. All she wanted to do was sleep, but fear of the nightmares kept her awake.
“Are you okay?” Dorin asked, moving to sit across from her. He cocked his head, their eyes meeting.
Eliza nodded slowly. “Just tired.”
“You should try and sleep.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think I can. Not without…”
“The nightmares.” Dorin nodded. “It is getting dark. We’ll have to keep moving come sunrise.”
She hadn’t even realised that it had gotten so late. The walk through the forest and harvesting the flowers had taken most of the day. Eliza had spent a good amount of their time crying amongst the tall grass. But she never thought she’d spent all that time away from their camp.
Dorin stood and offered his hand, a smile playing across his lips. “Do you remember when I said I’d make it up to you? For all the secrets?”
Eliza looked down at Dorin’s outstretched hand and frowned. “Yes…”
“Well,” he said, “I know just how to do it.”
She raised a brow. “You do?”
“Of course.” Before she could respond, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You need to get out of your head.”
He pulled her away from their makeshift campsite. Celia, with her back to them, waved them off. Eliza had no idea where the commander was. She hadn’t seen him all day and wasn’t sure if she particularly cared.
But I do care. She shoved those thoughts and feelings aside. Dorin was right—she needed to clear her head. She’d been a mess of emotions all day, so what she needed was some time to herself.
Dorin guided her away from the camp, down an incline towards a small field that overlooked the road. The road itself was hidden by dead bushes, concealing the spot from anyone who rode past.
A blanket had been laid out on the dry grass, just wide enough to fit two people. “What’s this?” Eliza asked, surveying the space.
“I told you I’d make it up to you,” Dorin replied, motioning towards the blanket. He took a seat first and patted the space beside him. “So, I thought you might enjoy star-gazing.”
She couldn’t help but laugh as she sat. Stargazing. What an odd choice, she thought, looking Dorin over. But she couldn’t deny the peace that settled over her as she took in the darkening sky.
“This is… nice,” she said finally. They’d spent so long sleeping under the cover of trees or in abandoned buildings that Eliza hadn’t had the chance to really see the night sky.
Closing her eyes, Eliza took in the silence of the night. Cicadas played their song in the long grass near their campsite, and the crackling fire was carried in the soft breeze. She could almost imagine they weren’t on a life-threatening mission to find the lost prince.
“I like this,” Eliza said, smiling over at the boy beside her. “Thank you.”
Dorin, already grinning, met her stare without flinching. His cheeks were flushed pink, the colour rising high on his cheekbones. There was an easiness to him, to the way he smiled at her that made her heart race.
There were no expectations for her to do the impossible. Thorne expected her to excel at fighting, or using her magic, and the king expected her to find the prince. With Dorin, however, those expectations disappeared.
Somewhere in the distance, Celia and Thorne were probably sleeping by the campfire, hidden in the small copse of trees that protected them. Wards that Eliza had put together with Celia’s help were holding strong, protecting their group from prying eyes.
“The stars are different out here, I find,” Dorin said, linking their fingers. “Maybe it’s our position, but the stars are brighter, clearer.” He grinned. “And I still needed to apologise for the way I’ve been acting. It wasn’t fair on you.”
Eliza took in the night sky, and gasped. It reminded her of seeing the sky in the country, without the smog and pollution of the city. Bright, twinkling stars broke out around them, vivid in a way that made Eliza think that if she reached out a hand now, she could touch them.
She spied constellations she had pinned to her ceiling in New Orleans: the Queen of Hicantha, pointing towards the west, her crown of Treiss pointing north; the wings of Algeran, the dragon who rode the winds of Cadira before the riders of Laziroth tamed them; and the Goddess Azula. All looked over her, all surrounding the twin moons of Cadira.
“This is beautiful,” Eliza said honestly. “I’ve never really looked at the Cadiran sky.”
“I don’t blame you,” he said. “You’ve been preoccupied with this mission.”
Eliza sighed. “We’re getting so close now. I just…”
Dorin rose on his elbows and looked down at her, filling her vision. Eliza held her breath in anticipation. “You look beautiful in the moonlight,” he murmured, fingers stroking her hair. Dorin knelt over her, face close enough that their noses barely brushed. His breath fanned over her lips; he smelt like dew and mint and the night.
His eyes flickered from hers to her lips. She read the intention in his stare. Her heart thundered
in her ears. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been kissed before. She’d been fourteen when that had happened, a boy she’d nicknamed Toad having taken that experience, but sitting under the stars with Dorin, it felt different.
But with Dorin hovering over her, and her heart ready to leap out of her chest, she wondered what it would be like to kiss a boy she liked, one who looked at her like she was everything in the world.
Like how Dorin looked at her, eyes glazed over, lips slightly parted.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?” she asked, sucking in a breath as a smile spread across his face.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he bent his head and lightly brushed his lips over hers, sending sparks of desire through her. Eliza hesitated before melting into his touch. Dorin slipped a hand over her lower back and pressed his chest into hers, deepening the kiss as he swiped his tongue over her bottom lip.
The kiss wasn’t chaste or giggle-worthy like with Toad. There was nothing chaste about how his hand skimmed her side to cup her thigh.
Dorin broke away first and sucked in a breath, eyes bright and half-lidded. Eliza bit down on her lip as she looked up at him.
“I’m afraid if we continue, I won’t know when to stop,” he whispered, lifting himself off her.
Eliza felt the loss of his body and slowly sat up. Her eyes flickered to Celia and Thorne’s sleeping figures.
“We should go back,” Eliza said. Dorin held out his hand, helping her to her feet, and for the rest of the night, she kept her hand clasped in his.
That night, she did not dream.
~
It took three days for Eliza to feel whole again, to pretend that her dreams hadn’t taken more than a small part of her soul. But the dreams—nightmares, really—were always at the forefront of her mind, replaying behind her eyelids. Hanging bodies and oceans of blood; men wrapped in shadows and lost destinies. Eliza couldn’t escape it, but she wrote everything down per Celia’s request.
Sweat rolled down Eliza’s neck and beneath the collar of her thin camisole. The sun had a bite, but Eliza’s olive skin tanned more than burned. Celia and Dorin, both with naturally pale skin, had tried to cover up as much as possible, but both had burnt noses and ears, shoulders and forearms. Thorne, like Eliza, only went a deep bronze.
The protective shield they’d put up to defend their camp did nothing to fend off the sun or its heat. The cotton pants Eliza wore were damp with sweat. The closer they got to the desert, the more the heat grew and the closer they came to tracking down and securing the prince.
Eliza blew out a frustrated sigh. “Still nothing,” she called out, opening her eyes and taking her hands off the map. “I can’t get a read on his energy.”
“Maybe he’s being hidden,” Dorin replied, biting into stale bread. “If the Dark Master is hiding him, then there is a chance magic has been used to keep him off the maps.”
Eliza huffed and sat back against her bedroll, wiping sweat off her face. “I still don’t understand why this is my job. Locating spells are not my forte. I’m better with defensive magic.”
“Well,” Celia said, dropping down beside her, “if you happen to know any defensive magic that might help us track the prince, then by all means, use it. Otherwise, keep trying.”
Eliza blew out another frustrated breath before closing her eyes once again, focusing on the map.
“Do you really think it’ll work?” Dorin asked no one in particular, his mouth full.
“Hush,” Celia chided in response. “Let her concentrate.”
“I can’t concentrate if you two keep talking.” Irritation shuddered through her as she pressed her lips into a thin line, but she suppressed a smile.
Eliza sucked in a breath and released it slowly as she focused her energy on the map in front of her, and the several drops of blood she’d managed to take from the king back in the capital during their last meeting. Although he hadn’t been keen on the idea, Eliza had gotten it anyway, and had stored it in Thorne’s bag for safe keeping.
The vial of blood sat in the corner of the map, while a drop had been mixed with dirt she’d taken from the side of the road and blessed. She wasn’t fortunate enough to have a fully stocked arsenal of potions and witch-y relics that might help her. But since they were getting closer, Eliza had hoped the locating spell might work. That, and it was Blood Magic. Amitel had told her it would help, and she hoped it wouldn’t fail her now.
She felt the dirt shift on the map. Pushing more magic into the spell, she could almost feel the dirt moving, though when she opened her eyes, it had stopped at the edge of the page.
“It was working,” Dorin said, moving closer. “I swear I saw it move.”
Eliza groaned and cleared the dirt from the map, carefully stowing it back in her satchel. Beside her, Celia looked up from the pages of Eliza’s journal.
“You will get it.” Celia looked back down to the pages, flicking through them.
“I don’t think so,” Eliza said, standing. She stretched and cracked her back, feeling some of the tension leave her body. “I’m going to go find Thorne. I need to look at something other than that map.”
Celia waved a hand without looking up, and Dorin merely smiled, sitting back against his own bedroll.
Eliza couldn’t stop heat from rising in her cheeks as she met Dorin’s smile with one of her own. She thought back to the kiss, to the night under the stars.
More than once during their nights on the road, she’d awoken beside Dorin to find her hand clasped in his. It usually left her cheeks flushed but sleep usually pulled her under before she could make much of the situation.
Eliza rose and looked around the camp. Their party had chosen to rest on high ground, with a small riverbed below them. From their vantage point, they could see the road and several homesteads, two of which were unoccupied. With the land slowly growing drier, it was becoming harder to find fresh supplies and even harder to find safety during the night.
Thorne had chosen to take first watch, slowly circling their campsite. They’d managed to find a copse of trees, though they didn’t offer much shade. But the horses were able to rest against them.
The commander stood with his back to Eliza, shoulders tense and rigid. Since her last episode, they hadn’t spoken much to one another. Eliza had wanted to talk to Thorne about it all, but he’d shut himself off from her. She supposed she was no better, but she ached for the friend who had been there for her after the Winter Palace attack and the troll bridge and the masquerade ball. She wanted Thorne, but he had locked himself away. Had she done this? She mentally shook herself. Surely not, she thought, but the coil in her gut told her otherwise.
“It didn’t work,” Eliza said in greeting, sidling up beside him. “Something keeps stopping me before I can get any further than the edge of the page.”
“Is it someone else’s magic?” he asked. “Or something that you are doing yourself?”
Eliza frowned and narrowed her eyes. “If you’re suggesting that I’m sabotaging the mission, then you can go shove it. I’m trying to find him, trust me, but the Dark Master is a hell of a lot more powerful than I am.”
“That attitude will get you nowhere.” Thorne turned to her. Before he could say another word, Dorin’s shout echoed through the glade.
Eliza and Thorne looked at each other before rushing back to the campsite.
A vision flashed before her eyes; of a man wielding shadows like a sword, of dead men rising and fighting. She shook the thoughts from her head. Not now. Nausea and light-headedness washed over her.
They found Celia on the ground, blood dripping from her nose. Dorin sat beside her with her head in his lap. He looked up as they approached, and he shook his head.
“I don’t know what happened,” he said, looking back down at her. “One minute, she was standing there, and her nose was bleeding. The next… she’d fainted and hit her head.”
Thorne leaned over and felt for her pulse, which roused her.
“W
hat happened?” she asked groggily, blinking. She reached a hand up and wiped away the blood, frowning down at her hand.
Thorne released a breath, pulling her up. “You’ll be fine. You probably haven’t had any water.”
Celia nodded distractedly, her eyes widening a moment later. Before Eliza could ask what was wrong, the other girl was on her feet and pulling Thorne towards the road, and away from Eliza and Dorin.
“What was that about?” Dorin asked, moving to stand beside her. Roughly the same height as Thorne, he stood over her, even though Eliza herself was rather tall. It had something to do with her Fae heritage, apparently, but most guys her age hated how she rivalled them in height.
Eliza shook her head, and hushed him, before reaching up and circling her ear three times to enhance her hearing.
“What’s wrong?” Thorne asked, once Celia was sure they were far enough away.
Eliza heard her sigh. “The council is not happy with me. They were sending me a warning.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I am too far away, and that was not part of the deal.”
“Then you should go back, for your own safety. I can protect Eliza.”
Eliza could hear the worry in Celia’s voice when she said, “I know you can. But I have my own reasons for being here. And I want to help.”
“The council won’t like that,” Thorne said. Worry darkened his voice.
“I do not care as to what they like or dislike. I made my sister a promise, and I made Eliza one too. I will stand by her until the end, or until she tells me otherwise.”
“She’ll tell you to go,” Thorne said. “She’ll choose your safety over her protection. You know that, right?”
“Then I will not tell her about the warnings.”
Beside Eliza, Dorin nudged her arm. “What are they talking about?” he whispered, closer to her than she’d realised. His breath fanned her neck and she shivered.
Eliza shook her head and bit her lip. “I’m not entirely sure, but it didn’t sound good.”
Thorne and Celia broke apart and looked up to the camp; Eliza met Thorne’s stare, noticed the flare of anger in his eyes. Celia took her time in climbing back up to the campsite, Throne reaching them first, eyeing Eliza sceptically, before saying, “I’ll be going back to look-out duty.” He stalked back to his previous position, leaving them.
The Lost Prince of Cadira (Shadowland Saga Book 1) Page 28
