Stormy Nights (Storms of Blackwood Book 2)

by Elle Middaugh

  He hadn’t mentioned Ash.

  I glanced around and was stunned to find a sleepy sloth curled up in my lap. What the fuck? I most certainly didn’t remember him turning into an animal along the way. What the hell was going on?

  "And Princesses: Alexis of Blackwood and Camilla of Eristan."

  The guard immediately dropped to a low bow on the ground. "Forgive me, Your Highness, I did not know it was you."

  Camilla smiled and told him to rise. "It’s all right. You weren’t supposed to. I don’t want word of this getting back to my father."

  The guard smiled and stood. "I won’t tell a soul, Your Highness."

  "Good." She patted his chest, and his dark cheeks flushed a rosy red. "How’s the fight going?"

  "It’s difficult to say, Your Highness. There seems to be a bit of a... time delay issue."

  Camilla quirked a brow and shared a glance with me before she turned back to the guard. "Time delay? How so?"

  "Yes, Your Highness. I know it sounds strange, but—" He shook his head. "—soldiers will go in, then minutes later, stumble out disoriented as if they’d been gone for weeks. Entire battles happen in the blink of an eye. It makes planning a strategy quite difficult."

  "I’m sorry," Dan said, smiling gracefully and shaking his head. "Did you say weeks?"

  The soldier nodded sharply. "Yes. And sometimes months. One group even swore it had been years that they were lost inside."

  Holy shit.

  Genuine fear curled up in my belly, much like the sloth in my lap, though not nearly as warm. If we went in there—correction, when we went in there, we could be lost for... years? But not actual years, just minutes... minutes that felt like years.

  This was so fucked up. My mind could barely comprehend the idea of it.

  A slow-rolling wave of mist escaped from the Ley and breezed across the ground, gathering at our camels’ cloven feet and sending the fear of the gods into them. They bellowed and squawked and trotted away, carrying us with them.

  The soldier jogged over and offered to take their reigns. "You will need to leave your camels here." He glanced at me. "And probably your sloth. Animals are skittish of the Lunaley. They won’t go anywhere near the mist."

  I clutched Speedy close to my chest and dismounted rather gracelessly, falling on my ass and jarring my tailbone. Fuck, that hurt. I stood and rubbed the spot, glaring at the guard as if he’d done it. "My sloth is coming with me. I would never leave him behind."

  The guard lifted both hands and shook his head. "Fine. Just wait. You’ll see how he claws at you to escape if you dare to bring him too close."

  Camilla’s brows furrowed, and she glanced around the group as if just now noticing Ash was missing. "The sloth is... special," she told the guard. "I don’t think he’ll give us any trouble."

  The guard shrugged. "Very well. We have a base set up inside the Ley—though I have no real means of estimating the time or giving you any direction. All I can say is, just keep walking straight until you find someone."

  Well, that was... comforting.

  I sidled up next to Cal. "Are you sure we have to go in there?"

  "We told the king we’d help save the chimeras." He glanced around nervously. "I don’t see any way to do that from out here."

  Ben came up beside us and nodded. "The chimeras are probably deep within the Ley where the magic is strongest. We need to observe them, study their behaviors and their environment, and then determine the best course of action."

  "Even if it takes years?" I asked, almost desperately. "We only have two weeks."

  At least, I thought we did. It was hard to say how much time we did or didn’t lose between here and Maltor, considering I didn’t remember a damn bit of it.

  Ben smiled softly. "You heard the guard. Years in the Ley equates to minutes out here. Even if it takes years, we’ll still have enough time."

  Oh, gods, I didn’t like this one little bit. I snuggled Speedy even closer to my chest, knowing he was probably getting freaked out at the rapid beating of my heart.

  Cal stepped forward, and the rest of us followed. Even me, though I wasn’t sure how my legs were able to move; I’d have sworn they were frozen in fear. Camilla stepped forward too, only to be halted by the guard.

  "My apologies, Your Highness, but I cannot let you in there. It is far too dangerous. Your father would have my head. He’d have all of our heads."

  The guards stationed nearby, who’d clearly all been eavesdropping on our conversation, nodded their heads solemnly.

  Camilla paused, seemingly contemplating whether to fight him on the issue or not. Then she reluctantly nodded. "I’ll wait here for you. It shouldn’t take long, anyway."

  Cal nodded in return. "We’ll see you in a few minutes."

  And then we stepped into the forest...

  Chapter 13

  CHRISSEN

  I strolled through the streets of Blackhaven, a bounce in my step as I whistled an old drinking tune.

  Men and women smiled and waved as I passed, and I grinned and nodded in return. It was going to be a good day. The king had commissioned a thousand swords, giving me and my crew work for months, and today was pickup and payday.

  I told myself I was most excited about the mountain of jewels I was bound to receive, but in reality, I was eager to come face-to-face with my father for the first time. Yeah, I’d been to a couple of the smaller-scale royal balls, ones held by the princes, but I’d never technically been invited, and I’d never once met the man and the legend, Zacharias.

  I’d heard so many stories of what a great man he was, and I secretly hoped that once he met me, he’d be so impressed with my workmanship and my character that he’d recognize me as a true prince of Blackwood. My mother might have given me the surname Storm, but it meant nothing if not acknowledged by the king.

  I’m not exactly sure why he decided to pick the swords up personally, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was karma and good luck pulling through for me. Today was the day I’d finally be accepted.

  "Morning, Criss," a homeless man named Ted said from his perch on the corner.

  I reached into my pocket and handed him a coin. "Morning, Ted. Sleep well?"

  He rubbed his lower back with a bony old hand and grumbled. "I think I slept on a rock."

  I grinned. "I think most people sleep on pillows."

  "Well, I ain’t got no pillow, do I?" He was sassy for an old man, even if he did appear rather cheerful while he complained.

  I crossed my arms and smirked. "I don’t know, do you? I distinctly remember buying you a pillow once."

  He waved my comment away. "I sold that pillow months ago for a barrel of ale."

  "Of course you did." I rolled my eyes and pointed to the coin in his hand. "Why don’t you buy a new pillow with that?"

  "Because I just finished my last drop of ale last night. I need to buy a new barrel."

  I sighed, contemplating him with a little smirk. "What if I gave you an extra coin? Would you buy a pillow, then?"

  His white eyebrows rose, and he smiled, revealing all three of his teeth. "I could... or I could buy two barrels of ale. That would last me twice as long."

  I chuckled and shook my head. "I’ll see you later, Ted."

  "Bye, Chrissen," he said, his hand waving in a wide arc above his head. "And thanks again for the coin."

  "Don’t worry about it," I called over my shoulder as I continued toward my shop.

  My guys were already hard at work: pouring metal into molds, hammering the steel into perfectly smooth blades, carving designs into the hilts, and cutting sheaths that fit each sword just right.

  I said my good mornings to them as I passed, heading toward the warehouse where the king’s order of swords had been stowed. All thousand blades were there, glimmering in the early morning sunlight that slipped in from the second-story window, plus a hundred or so extra in case there were any imperfections in the first go. I’d checked and rechecked the
m at least five times, but you never knew when you’d miss something.

  After that, I strolled into my office and shut the door behind me, staring at myself in the mirror propped behind my door. My hazel eyes looked worried, so I forced myself to take a deep, calming breath, watching as my chest rose and fell shakily. I smoothed a hand over my wavy brown hair and wrapped it in a band at the nape of my neck. There was a wrinkle in my decorative blue jacket, so I flattened the material with my hands, using them as an iron of sorts, and then did the same to my white dress pants. Normally, I’d never dream of wearing white to the forge, but today was a day for first impressions, and I wanted to make a great one.

  Speaking of impressions... had I made a good impression on Alexis at the ball? I couldn’t tell. I knew she’d married Prince Calvin weeks ago in a whirlwind ceremony, but I couldn’t help but think about her still. She was stunningly beautiful, her tiny body fit perfectly into mine as we danced, and she was so easy to talk to. I couldn’t believe I’d spilled my guts to her about my royal heritage, but since she took it all so gracefully, I didn’t regret my confession.

  Did she ever think about me?

  I scoffed and turned away from my own reflection. Of course she didn’t. She had four strapping Storm princes biting at the bit to satisfy her every whim. She didn’t need a bastard Storm drooling after her too.

  A knock sounded at my door before Jenson, my hilt worker, came bursting in. His wild, curly hair was halfway in his face. "The king is almost here. There’s a procession of carriages rounding the bend."

  I swallowed hard and nodded. "Thank you. I’ll be out in just a moment."

  Holy fucking gods, this was it.

  My heart hammered as loud as my workers pounding at their blades and at least five times as fast. I took another deep breath, but it did nothing to calm the nervousness icing in my veins.

  Do not freeze, Chrissen. Do not mess this up. It might be your only chance.

  A moment later, I strolled from my office with a confidence and ease I did not feel whatsoever. I was grateful that I could fake it on the outside, though—a skill that would no doubt serve me well if I ever became a prince.

  Standing at the front of the shop, I crossed my arms behind my back, straightened my spine, and patiently waited as the carriages rolled to a stop in front of me. Guards surrounded the procession, riding on the backs of strong black steeds, glaring at me like I was a criminal.

  I adjusted my footing. Did they look at everyone like that? Friendly bastards.

  A servant opened the door of the carriage in the middle and proclaimed, "All hail the King of Blackwood."

  My five-man crew and I dropped to one knee and placed our fists over our hearts as the king—my father—emerged from the coach.

  My heart beat wildly, and my lungs pumped like mad. Sweat broke out across my brow, and nerves triggered my hands to shake.

  This is him, Zacharias, the man and the legend.

  He stepped out, pulling a pair of black gloves off his jeweled hands as he assessed his surroundings with an appreciative eye—thank the gods we’d spent the weekend cleaning the place. His hair was silver, but his expression was sharp, his features handsome and bold. There was a confidence, an aura of poise about him that made me proud to be his son—even if he didn’t know that I was.

  "Chrissen, is it?" he asked as he approached. Even his voice sounded rich and regal.

  I stood at the mention of my name and bowed my head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

  "Are my swords ready?" he asked, holding steady eye contact with me.

  I swallowed hard. "They are, Your Majesty."

  "Show me."

  I led him over to the warehouse and swung open the door, allowing more light to glint off the numerous blades lying in wait. He strolled inside, every so often picking up a sword and testing its balance, weight, and plumbness. After a few minutes of this, he spun around and nodded to his guards. Immediately, they filed in and collected the swords, stowing them away in the extra carriages.

  The king put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. "Let’s talk money, shall we?"

  I ducked down, since he was shorter than me, and smiled brightly. "Absolutely, Your Majesty."

  He led us over to his carriage and gestured for me to climb inside. Since most financial transactions were conducted in private, I thought nothing of it. He stepped in behind me, and a servant shut the door. Then, he got straight to business.

  "I am prepared to offer you fifty thousand jewels." His voice was calm and collected. "That’s fifty per sword. Do you accept?"

  I nearly sputtered out loud. That was ten times what I expected to make. "Yes, Your Majesty, thank you very much."

  He nodded, apparently pleased with my reception, and he glanced out the window. "There’s a rumor going around that you are my illegitimate son. Have you heard anything of this?"

  I couldn’t tell from the tone of his voice if he was curious or pissed off; the pitch was so carefully neutral. It set my nerves on edge.

  I glanced at the velvety purple rug on the carriage floor. "Yes, Your Majesty, I’ve heard of them."

  "Did you start these rumors?"

  My leg started to bounce. "No, Your Highness, my mother did. She says you spent a single night together some twenty-eight years ago that resulted in... me."

  I glanced up, suddenly caught in his intense blue gaze, and immediately wished I hadn’t.

  "What was her name?" he asked lightly, as if carefully containing his emotions.

  "Charity, Your Majesty. Charity Haventon."

  "Haventon," he muttered, stroking his silver beard. "The founding family of Blackhaven. Yes, I believe I do recall spending a night with the governor’s daughter." He stared at me a moment longer. "You have her eyes. Clear blue and innocent."

  I smiled, relieved beyond belief that he’d not only remembered her name but also her eyes. If he’d admittedly been with her, then he was, in a sense, acknowledging the possibility that I was truly his son.

  "I’ll be back tomorrow, if you don’t mind," he said, nodding to himself. "I’d like to get to know you better."

  My smile stretched even wider. I couldn’t believe my unimaginable luck.

  "Yes, Your Majesty, I’d like that very much."

  He smirked and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Please. Call me Father."

  Chapter 14

  ALEXIS

  Once we crossed that magical threshold into the Lunaley, it was as if the place we’d just left behind was nothing more than a memory of a dream.

  Magic thrummed through the air; I could feel its pressure weighing on my skin, its energy vibrating the very cells of my body. It hummed through the earth and the nearby stream, which was an electric, glowing blue. I clutched Speedy and stared at our surroundings, absolutely fascinated as we made our way deeper into the woods.

  The soil beneath our shoes was strange, squishy and soft, yet dry and sturdy. It sank beneath each step we took, but the surface layer never broke or suctioned to our feet.

  "Are we still going straight?" Rob asked skeptically.

  Cal glanced over his shoulder with one golden eyebrow arched. "Of course we are."

  "How can you be so sure?" Dan asked, pausing to look around. "There’s not exactly a path."

  Ben knelt down and touched the base of a nearby tree. "If the moss on this tree is anything to go by... then, yes, we’re still going straight. And as long as we continue to follow this river, we should stay going straight."

  Cal smirked. "See? Told you."

  Rob rolled his gray eyes, which appeared lighter in the Ley than they ever had outside it. "You were totally fucking guessing."

  "Think what you will," Cal said, and continued in the direction we’d been traveling.

  "What are we even doing here, anyway?" Dan asked, scratching his head as he spun around in a circle.

  I squinted, trying to remember the specifics. "I’m not sure."

  "We’re walking straight," Rob supplied.
r />   "Right," Dan agreed, "but why?"

  Rob shrugged, and Cal shook his head. "I don’t know. I just really think we need to keep going straight. I’m pretty sure there’s something waiting for us up ahead."

  "A good something? Or a bad one?" Dan asked, but none of us were able to answer. We couldn’t seem to remember much of anything.

  I looked down at the mist floating around my ankles and knees, trying to remember as much as I could. We’d been right outside the Lunaley, talking to a guard. The same mist that surrounded us now had been hovering through the trees at the edge of the sand. Camilla had been there... but I couldn’t remember exactly who Camilla was. She was waiting on us, though. I remember her saying that she would be there when we returned. But returned from what?

  "We’re in the Lunaley," I said aloud. "I remember talking to a guard at the border of the Obsidian. He’s the one who told us to go straight. And there’s a girl named Camilla waiting for us."

  "Who’s Camilla?" Rob asked, crossing his tattooed arms suspiciously.

  Ben’s gaze narrowed. "The Eristani princess. But why the hell would she be waiting for us?"

  I shrugged. It was like I knew the answer, but it was buried under a mountain of sand. "No idea."

  Cal’s lips thinned as he thought. "If the Eristani princess is waiting on us to return, then this must be an important quest. So, regardless of the reason, we better keep walking."

  Hours later—or maybe days—we’d found nothing but more and more trees. The sun never rose higher, nor set. I couldn’t even see it through the overcast sky, but I could tell its general position based on the brightness of the clouds. It was as if time stood still. Our feet moved, the trees rolled by, the river meandered onward... but we got nowhere.

  Eventually, I stopped walking and put a hand on my hip. "Are we even getting anywhere?"

  No one seemed to know.

  Speedy wriggled in my other arm. Asher was apparently ready to come back.