The Lost Prince of Cadira (Shadowland Saga Book 1)

by Stephanie Anne

  Releasing a frustrated breath, Eliza turned to Celia. Sweat poured from her body, dampening her clothes. Rushing to her side, both Dorin and Eliza helped her back to her bedroll.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Eliza asked, sitting down beside her. “If there’s anything I can do…” she trailed off, hoping Celia would open up. But the other girl shook her head.

  “I just need to rest.”

  Eliza moved back to her bedroll, sitting down, careful of her satchel and what was inside. Her spell book and journal were both tucked inside, along with her maps and the sand, none of which could answer any questions she had about Celia.

  30

  FALL OF THE PROTECTOR

  It took three days of constant travel to reach the desert.

  The outlying towns were worn ragged by the incessant sandstorms and the lack of rain. From those almost abandoned towns, it took them an additional two days of travel east, where Dorin’s home awaited them, along with the tunnels that would get them under the desert.

  In those long days—and longer nights—Eliza found herself slipping from Thorne and Celia as they closed themselves off. After Celia’s episode, there had been no confidential talks between them again, no time spent together.

  Eliza and Dorin hadn’t revisited the intensity of their kiss, though it wasn’t like she didn’t want to. If her nightmares gave her a break, she replayed the feel of his lips against hers, the heat of his hands as they slipped beneath her thin shirt and roamed the skin of her stomach—

  Eliza’s cheeks heated at the memory, and she spared her riding partner a wary glance.

  A crooked smile danced across his pink lips, awe settling on his face as he gazed over the landscape.

  There were no more trees dotting the horizon, but instead hills and mountains made of sand. Where the Mesah Desert began was obvious; a wall of sand blocked any view of the remaining desert. The constant storm that brewed beyond the border between them and Mesah made it a tough border to cross. Those who tried, like the army for hire, usually ended up lost and dead. Others, if they were lucky like Dorin, managed to escape before they got too far.

  “We’ll find him,” Dorin said. “You just have to have faith.”

  “I do. I really do have hope. But it’s hard when they… they don’t talk to me.” She gestured at Celia and Thorne, who rode ahead. Occasionally, they would check if she and Dorin were still behind them, before going back to their heated conversations.

  Dorin sighed loudly. “They do.”

  “Sure. Is that why they give me the stink eye, or when they ignore me? I can’t tell.”

  He laughed loudly, causing Thorne to look back. Eliza couldn’t help her smile; partly due to Dorin’s infectious, hearty laugh, and partly because Throne’s frown deepened when she did.

  “Either way, it shouldn’t matter,” he continued, eyes crinkling. “So long as you believe in yourself. Maybe that’s your problem. You’re so focused on what those two think of you, that you no longer think of yourself at all.”

  Eliza pursed her lips. He wasn’t wrong. She did weigh everything she did with what Thorne and Celia thought. It was a strange feeling—even the thought process behind wondering if those two approved of her choices tasted strange on her tongue, but the familiarity of it startled her more than anything. They were her friends, but something deep inside her clutched desperately at Thorne and Celia, and it felt their loss more than Eliza could understand.

  Thorne pulled back from Celia and trotted back to Eliza and Dorin, his frown gone. “We should be a couple hours’ ride from Mesah and the city. But we need to rest soon. Celia isn’t doing too well.”

  Eliza looked towards her, where she sat hunched over her horse, shivering despite the climbing heat. “Maybe you two should stay back while Dorin and I go ahead,” Eliza offered. She couldn’t imagine going ahead without him, but something at the back of her mind told her she should. “Catch up when you can. At least then I’ll be able to do some research in town.”

  Thorne was already shaking his head, though, before she could even finish. “We stick together, that was the plan, remember?”

  “Plans change,” she said, harsher than she intended, but it hit its mark. He flinched. “Look, Celia obviously needs help. Even a blind man could see that. You two can stay back so she can rest for a couple of hours. I won’t go any further than the city.”

  His eyes searched hers, roaming over her face. She needed to go on, with or without him. she was getting close, so close that she could almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue.

  Her mind told her to leave them behind, but her heart… it ached at the prospect of leaving Thorne—even Celia—behind. And yet…

  Eliza eyed Celia and her shaking form, then turned back to Thorne.

  He must have found what he was looking for, because he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Alright. Let me see what she has to say first though.”

  Leading his horse back up to Celia, Eliza could see their lips moving as he told her the new plan, and straight away she could see the fight between them. It wasn’t audible—Eliza couldn’t hear a thing due to Celia’s hoarse voice and Thorne’s murmur—but she could tell Celia didn’t agree.

  “You’re doing the right thing,” Dorin said from beside her. “She needs to stop, and you need to keep going. I’ll go with you as far as you let me, Eliza.”

  Meeting his stare, Eliza nodded her thanks.

  Thorne started back, Celia at a slower pace. “We will head back into the last town, rest at an inn,” Thorne said, stopping his horse. Eliza and Dorin stopped as well, their own horses nickering. “You two will get to the city by nightfall, and we’ll be there by midnight at the latest.”

  Eliza nodded. “Be safe.”

  “I do not want to let you go,” Celia said, voice raw and soft. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and since leaving Beewold she’d dropped weight like it was nothing. “Please, just wait.”

  Shaking her head, Eliza said, “I need to keep going. We’re running out of time. I’m sorry.”

  Eliza met Thorne’s stare and let it linger before nudging her horse onwards without looking back.

  ~

  As darkness fell, Eliza was able to get a full scope of the desert and the surrounding lands. Through the constant sandstorm at the border, Eliza could just make out the silhouettes of Mesah’s mountain range, where the slave camp sat in the mountain’s shadow. Through the haze, she swore she saw turrets looming into the sky, but when she blinked, they were gone.

  “It plays with your mind, the desert,” Dorin said, staring out into the sandy hills. “Sometimes I think I see a person wandering through the sand, but when I look again, they’re gone.”

  Eliza nodded. “It’s strange how it works. I just… I don’t understand.”

  “Warlocks, I swear.” Dorin threw a hand up in exasperation. “No one believes me though.”

  “I wonder why,” she muttered, though she smiled at him. “You sound like a madman.”

  Dorin grinned and pointed to a large building in the centre of the city. It stood four storeys’ high, twice the size of any other building in the bustling city. There had to be hundreds of people running about, finishing their day before night fully fell.

  With the setting sun, Eliza could just make out the city, could see the great wall that separated them from the destructive desert. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, cupping her hands over her eyes. “Where does your mother live?”

  “Right… there,” he said, pointing to the largest building. “Or, well, right beside it. Closer to the wall. That’s the marketplace. Every storey has a different use. The first floor is food and drink. The next, cloth and clothing. The third is weapons and other tact gear. And the last storey… I don’t know what goes up there. Trinkets, I think.”

  Eliza smiled, her eyes roaming over the large city again before landing on a fountain. She couldn’t quite make out what the statue depicted, but she was almost sure it was of Azula.
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br />   “Can we go to the fountain, first?” Eliza asked, amusement disappearing. “I just want to check something.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Eliza led her horse down the rocky path towards the city, praying that she’d make it before the sun completely set. She had a lantern, but it was already stiflingly hot—she didn’t want to add to her discomfort. Winter definitely didn’t reach Mesah.

  The entrance to Mesah City wasn’t guarded, though she doubted that any sane monarch would want to overthrow the government there. There were, however, several vendors spread out around the entrance, shouting about the treasure they had found in the desert, or promising camels fit for whatever one needed.

  “The horses will barely survive here,” Eliza said, dismounting. Dorin followed, patting his mares hide. “They’ll probably die in this heat.”

  “My mother has a stable. They’ll be fine there.” He led her into the city, waving to several vendors who called him by name.

  “How long have you lived here?” she asked, following him farther in. Shops were beginning to close for the night, vendors packing up their wares, and mothers chased children about the streets in an attempt to settle them down for dinner.

  Dorin shrugged. “My whole life. My adoptive mother found me in my father’s arms out here on the streets. He was dead. I don’t remember much of what my life was like before she found me. I owe everything to her.”

  Eliza’s eyes softened, and she could feel a smile growing on her lips. There was a strength to his innocence, she thought, but a pain in his eyes. She never realised how guarded he was before. It sent a shiver down Eliza’s spine.

  “What about you? What is your mother like?”

  The smile disappeared from her face. “I don’t know my mother. I was raised by my grandfather and his friend, Kay. I guess she’s always been like a mother to me, but she was never really the maternal type.”

  “Do you know anything about your parents? Either of them?”

  She sighed. “My grandfather never went into detail about either of them. I don’t even know anything about my life before I was five. I don’t know their names, or what happened to them.” She met his stare, and he gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Look,” he said, pointing towards the stone fountain. “We’re here.”

  Much like the fountain that stood in the gardens of the Spring Manor, Mesah’s portal to the underground cities and tunnels stood fully intact. Much larger than its copy further south, it stood several feet higher and much wider; water spilled easily from the outstretched hand of the Goddess Azula as she reached towards those below her, offering a way to survive the endless days and stifling heat.

  Eliza reached up a hand, but recoiled, holding it to her chest. A chill ran up her spine as she looked over the fountain.

  “Is it the right one?” Dorin asked, voice hollow. She turned back to him, brows furrowed, but his face gave nothing away.

  Eliza released a breath slowly as she sent out her magic, feeling for the portal’s opening, for the tunnels that may lay beneath.

  Something seemed to connect with her as a flash of light burned behind her eyes. “This is it,” she breathed. Relief washed over her. “This is the one.”

  When she met Dorin’s stare, she thought she’d seen a flicker of anger waver in his eyes, in the way he set his lips. But when she blinked, it was gone, and in its place was a broad smile.

  “Good,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. Eliza forced a smile. “I suppose we’ll be waiting for Thorne to arrive then.”

  She pursed her lips and looked back towards the fountain, to the opening. Did she really want to wait? She couldn’t answer that question.

  I’ll prepare myself. Get supplies. Pull out whatever magic I might need in the meantime. Until then, I’ll wait for him. If he isn’t ready, then I’ll go by myself.

  Eliza offered Dorin a tight smile. “We’ll see. But for now, let’s go see your mother. She’s probably missed you.”

  His wide smile faltered slightly. “Yes, probably.”

  ~

  Sleep eluded Eliza as she tried tirelessly to replenish her magic. The moment they had stepped foot into Dorin’s adoptive mother’s home, she had felt a sense of welcome, of acceptance. It radiated off the weathered woman who had greeted them, who had kissed their cheeks. And it had been brought through in the hearty meal she’d cooked her son and his friend.

  But when midnight struck, and Thorne and Celia were nowhere to be seen, Eliza couldn’t take the damning silence any longer, or Dorin’s protective position by her bed, though he’d fallen asleep an hour before her.

  Pushing aside the covers, she slipped out of the bed and into her waiting boots, tying them quickly and quietly as she watched Dorin for any signs of movement. But he didn’t stir, not even when her satchel rattled as she pulled out her map and spell book. A dagger of Thorne’s slipped into a sheath at her side.

  Eliza bent down and planted a soft kiss to Dorin’s forehead, letting her lips linger a moment longer than necessary. But he still didn’t stir. Had she wanted to wake him?

  Eliza had noticed how the floorboards had creaked earlier and tried her hardest to step around the loose wood. She’d barely succeeded, though, and flinched when the door whined on its hinges.

  When he didn’t stir, she sighed, and escaped into the night.

  31

  SHADOWS BEWARE

  No one walked the streets of Mesah during the night. The only souls occupying the darkness were those forced into the crevices of the alleys for protection, drunkards stumbling home from the pub, or the literal spirits that wandered aimlessly down the streets. Eliza worked her magic to conceal herself from the living, decidedly afraid of what they might do if they saw her alone at midnight.

  She didn’t want to think of that, but the thought had crossed her mind countless times.

  Eliza licked her parched lips, aware of how her heart accelerated the closer she got to the fountain. The way the water droplets hit the pool below was like music to her ears, compelling her to get closer and drink what it offered.

  Shaking her head, Eliza stopped several feet away from the fountain, and waited for whatever spirit had been chosen as protector over the ancient doorway. She quietly called out for it, offered her aid in whatever it might need.

  But there was no response.

  “I know someone guards this gate,” she said louder, carefully taking a step closer.

  In the water droplets, she thought she heard a voice. ‘Ask.’

  Eliza released a breath. “Was this portal used in taking the young Cadiran prince through the desert?”

  There was a moment of silence, almost like it wouldn’t answer.

  ‘It was.’ Eliza’s heart thundered in her chest. Tears pooled in her eyes. Had she done it? Had she found the prince?

  The voice continued, ‘But he is no longer here.’

  Eliza’s heart stopped, then started thundering again. “Here? What do you mean ‘here’?” Her breathing grew rapid, like she was running out of time. Was she too late?

  ‘He has been back and forth through these tunnels with his master, and he has not returned.’

  “He’s free?” Eliza took a step back, reeling. “What master?” Blood turned to ice in her veins at the mention of the ‘master’.

  The voice did not reply. Instead a wind pushed her towards the portal, towards its opening.

  But dread settled deep within her, and some part of her already knew what master. She didn’t want to admit it, though; didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts. The guardian had already given her enough; he had been here.

  With one last look towards the empty street, Eliza stepped into the fountain’s water and went down.

  ~

  The city under the Spring Manor had mostly been intact, with few changes since it was abandoned.

  But the city under Mesah was destroyed.

  Almost like a storm had swept through the only tunnel in sight, sand covered most of the an
cient city. Spires and turrets had crumbled to the ground, leaving debris scattered throughout the cavern. The once enormous statue of the Goddess had been split in half, the raven gone, buried beneath the rubble and sand.

  Eliza cast her eyes skywards, towards the portal, and marked where she had landed. Darkness mostly consumed the cavern, though streams of light originating in alcoves with illuminating crystals penetrated shadows. It gave her enough light to notice that there was only the one tunnel, and that it was directly in front of her, leading into the heart of the desert.

  She rubbed a hand over her face and stepped towards it, careful to remain silent as she did. If the spirit who guarded the portal was right, then there was a chance that the prince—and the Dark Master—would be using the tunnels, including their shadow army.

  A scattering of rocks made her stop, one foot outstretched. It sounded far off, somewhere inside the tunnel itself.

  Probably a demon, she thought, releasing a slow breath. I can handle them.

  Could she handle an entire army though? She pursed her lips and stepped back under the portal’s opening. If anything, she would need an extra set of hands, someone who could watch her back, whether it be Dorin… or Thorne. But she needed to find the prince.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered, looking up to the portal. Her voice echoed unnaturally in the cavern. “Take me back up.”

  The transition between the cavern and the fountain was painless; Eliza landed in the fountain above ground, her feet wet and her skin once again sticky with sweat. The night was illuminated by the stars above her, and the scattered oil-lamps that gave light to the empty streets.