And tonight, with the remnants of storm and rain causing the fog and haze, the glow of the barrier colored everything across the water, adding to the eeriness. Here, the water had a life of its own. Wild. Untamed. Hostile. And it sent shivers down Christopher’s back.
A wave splashed over the edge of the boat and hit his face, shocking him as he steered toward the dark shadow between the purple haze that lit the sky. Something slithered in the water by their boat, and Christopher swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes. He grabbed the goggles hanging around his neck and pulled them on with one hand, struggling for a moment as the strap caught in his short ponytail. He blinked behind the glass, relieved to no longer have wind or water spray stinging his eyes.
A terror swooped by his head, letting loose a mighty kree-ya. The dragon didn’t seem to mind them, swooping along the air current, keeping pace with their boat and whatever lurked below their feet.
Lucio stirred and twisted to sit sideways in his seat. “I’m keeping them distracted. They’ll buy us time for when Flint’s group follows us.” The island loomed over them as they neared it, and a smile lit Lucio’s face and eyes. “We’ll need to be cautious when we get there. They likely have many wards around the place, let alone guards.” He tapped a finger against his chin. “Or creatures.”
Christopher sighed as he tugged on the rudder and barely resisted banging his head into the wood. “Do you think the keystone itself could be trapped?”
Lucio snapped his fingers. “Very likely.” His shrug contained no concern to it. “But that’s what you’re here for. Just be careful.”
“Right,” Christopher murmured. He frowned at the three terrors that joined the first. What would happen when he killed Lucio? Would the dragons all disappear back to wherever they came from? Or would they attack whatever was nearest?
Could he even escape the island when Lucio had called out and brought what seemed like a sea serpent?
Careful, indeed.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Jade
“So, wait.” Krista planted her hands on the work space table that Francene had given them permission to use, and she spitted Jade with an incredulous stare. “I know you said you’re going to be queen. But you’re going to straight-up defy Everett, to his face, and tell him you’re not marrying Weston?”
Jade slipped the cermet plate over the shin of the prosthetic and didn’t look up. “Correct.” She raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Did you drink so much that night that you forgot me telling you all this?”
“Possibly. I don’t recall you saying this at all.” Krista leaned forward, dropping her voice. “And Zak said that he’ll run away with you, if the wedding were to somehow be forced?”
A screw slipped from Jade’s fingers, and she cursed as it rolled under the table. She glared at the offending piece of metal and snatched a fresh one from the tray on the table. She glanced to the corner of the room where Zaborah sat with Zak, her face red as she talked. She occasionally jabbed at the air with the vexation of an older sister. Zak’s demeanor radiated rebellion.
“That’s not quite how he said it,” Jade hedged, her ears burning from the memory of their conversation the other day, and all the kissing that had happened. She tucked a strand behind her ear and met her best friend’s disbelieving smirk.
“Whatever.” A sly smile grew, and Krista tilted her head at Zak and Zaborah. “So you finally decided what’s going on between you two?”
Jade winced as she blushed. They had their idea of what they were doing, yes, but that didn’t mean they had the details of how to make a messy situation less messy, as Zaborah was all too quick to remind them. And now Zaborah had her younger brother trapped, most likely berating him—for the hundredth time in the last three days—that his place was only as Jade’s guardian. Nothing more, nothing less.
Jade swallowed hard and looked away. She knew that this was going to be a difficult road. But seeing that proof somehow hurt more than she’d expected. Especially when coming from someone she’d dared to hope would at least understand.
A quiet rap on the door broke into Jade’s musings, and she twisted in the chair to face the carved double doors. “Come in.”
The door opened silently, and dark curls preceded Weston’s head. He scanned the room, his eyebrows drawing together as he observed Zaborah and Zak. Then he came in, offering Jade an incredibly shy smile.
Jade waved, marveling at how she didn’t fear him like she used to. Mostly because she trusted Zak to get her out of marriage if necessary, but also because she’d been watching Weston. And he wasn’t the same guy she’d known last year. He really was making an effort to change.
She had to show Weston some grace.
He approached her and Krista, and Jade shot Krista a stern look, hoping her friend wouldn’t cause any chaos. Bad enough for Zaborah to be at odds with them right now.
Zaborah’s voice rose, shattering the relative peace of the room. “You can’t call yourself a Guardian if you don’t follow orders, Zak!”
Jade blanched, whipping her head around so fast that a muscle in her neck twanged in protest. Zaborah stood over Zak, her blonde braid swinging. Zak looked up at her from his seat, his lips pressed together and eyes narrowed.
“I am a Guardian.” His reply was quieter, but firm, conviction ringing in his words. “If it helps, you can remind yourself that I’m the renegade, the cast-out, the one who didn’t follow the rules from the very beginning.” He touched his fist over his heart. “I follow my queen and her wishes. Not the family clan’s.”
The red in Zaborah’s face drained away, leaving her skin looking like bleached parchment. She swayed in place, then shook her head. “Zane would be so disappointed.”
Pain flashed in Zak’s eyes, and his body lurched, as if her words had physically hit him. Zaborah wiped a hand at her face, then turned away, apparently noticing for the first time that Jade, Krista, and Weston were all watching. Zaborah hesitated for less than a heartbeat, then lifted her chin and stared daggers at Jade. “I’m going for a walk around the perimeter, Your Majesty.” She spoke the title with a bitterness that Jade hadn’t heard directed at her before. Zaborah glanced over her shoulder at her statue of a brother. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Jade recoiled at Zaborah’s vitriol and fought to not let the hurt show on her face as Zak’s shoulders and head bowed. She caught Krista opening her mouth to reply and shook her head at her friend. Like it or not, Jade did deserve some of the rancor from Zaborah.
Zaborah brushed past them with a barely muttered greeting to Weston, and she looked over her shoulder, giving Jade one final glare before slamming the door on her way out.
Jade’s hands ached to go hug Zak, to comfort him, or to be a listening ear, or whatever he needed after those sharp words. But Weston stood between her and Zak. Weston’s eyes shifted between her and Zak and the door, and he wrung his hands while rocking on his heels. Maybe she should consider this practice for being queen—being gracious when she wanted to be somewhere else.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her gaze still on Zak’s bent head.
Weston crossed his arms, then dropped them to clasp them behind his back. He grimaced, and started fidgeting with the hem of his vest. “I just wanted to invite you,” he glanced at Krista, “all of you, to a dinner on the Sapphire tomorrow night.”
Jade blinked. “What?”
Weston gestured out the window. “You know. To get out of here for a bit. Visit home.” He flashed an awkward smile at Krista. “Briar’s cooking.”
Jade closed her mouth. “Um.” She twisted slightly to look around Weston to Zak. “I—”
“Zak already cleared it,” Weston added, his words rushed. “He talked to Niles about security, and Briar already has a menu planned, and it’s all ready to happen if you’re willing.”
Warmth flooded Jade’s heart, and she relaxed into her chair. A chance to be home for a bit? To have someone make real food? Briar’s food? “That sounds amazin
g. Yes.” She directed her words to the corner where Zak still sat. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Weston gave a little bounce without actually lifting off the floor. “You’re welcome.” His excitement dimmed as he looked over his shoulder at Zak. Weston stepped closer to Jade and Krista, lowering his voice. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” Krista reclined in her chair, slouching as much as her corset would let her, twirling a tiny hand saw in her fingers. She grabbed the handle and pointed the tool at Weston. “But thank you for the invite. We’ll see you then.”
Weston’s adam’s apple bobbed. He reached out to Jade, then drew back. “I’ll come tomorrow evening to get you all.” He nodded stiffly, then retreated out the door.
“You didn’t have to be so cold,” Jade chided as she set her tools down and stood. “He just offered an escape for the evening. Don’t make him regret it.”
“I’m not in the business of giving false security.” Krista’s eyes tracked Jade’s trajectory, and then she stood with a clearly faked yawn. “Look at the time. I’m going to ...go see what Briar is making in the kitchen. Or go to bed, or something.” She passed Jade and paused, her fingers on Jade’s arm. Mischief and concern mingled in her eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she quoted Zaborah, a slight hint of teasing in her tone.
Jade snorted.
Krista stopped at the door, her hand on the handle. She turned, eyebrows raised. “I expect you in our room within two hours.”
“Right.” Jade waved at her friend while she approached Zak. He sat bent over, elbows on his knees and knuckles against his forehead, hiding his face. She knelt in front of him, gently touching his knee. “Zak?”
A shuddering breath shook his shoulders, and he dropped his hands, allowing her to see the red in his eyes, and the naked sorrow that aged him. His lips quirked in a sad attempt at a smile, and he ran his knuckles against her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Are you okay?” Even as the words left her, Jade grimaced. She knew the answer to that question. How could he be, when Zaborah threw Zak’s one goal in his face, confirming the one thing he always feared? To be told that Zane would be disappointed had to cut deep.
Zak’s hand fell away and he rubbed at his forehead. “I will be. Eventually.”
“I’m so sorry.” The words stuck in her throat, grief coating every syllable. “I—I don’t know what to do that can help.”
“Right now, just having you here is enough.” Zak flicked a hand at the chair that Zaborah had been in earlier. “That’d be more comfortable, you know.”
“Yes.” Jade shifted from her knees to sitting on her rear, her legs to her side. “But this is closer to you. So here I am.”
A small huff of amusement shook Zak’s shoulders. “As you wish.” He wove his fingers with hers and sighed. “This is between her and me. Don’t worry about it.”
“Didn’t you just say the other day that we face things together?” Jade pointed out. She bumped their joined hands against his leg. “That goes both ways.”
Zak’s head dipped forward, and his hair hid his eyes but failed to hide the sad smirk. “Right.”
Jade settled her elbow over his leg, leaning into him. “We’ll find a way to explain it to her so she understands.”
Zak snorted. “Someday. She may need to find someone to love before she gets it. But, yes, we’ll find a way.” He lifted their hands and pressed hers against his lips. “In the meantime, we’ll take it one day at a time.”
Her heart fluttered with the overwhelming sensation of sheer gratitude for the stability of Zak in her life. How could she have even entertained the notion of life without him?
They sat in companionable silence for a stretch of time, until a new thought broke into Jade’s mind. “Where do you think Ben and everyone are?”
Zak’s chair creaked as he shifted. “Who knows? I can only hope they’ve found Victor by now—and stopped him.”
“Thank you for staying with me.” Jade plucked a strand of hair from her skirt and let it flutter to the floor. “I know you would’ve gone with them if you could.”
“Of course.” Zak’s knee pressed into her side, and she looked up at him. Determination and a hint of sorrow tightened his eyes, yet he gave her a lopsided smile. “If there’s a chance that the world as we know it could end, you bet I’m sticking with you through it all.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Weston
“So why are you willing to risk this mission to the Hollows? You know this has a fair chance of not turning out favorably for us, right?”
Weston set down the steam-rifle and held still, listening for Timothy’s answer to Zak’s casual-sounding question. The field behind the workshops was for the specific purpose of testing new tech, or, in this case, training. The gate-enclosed perimeter was clear of onlookers or guards beyond Niles, the two Monomi, Jade, Weston, and Timothy, Mendez’s former guard. This was probably the only time they’d be able to openly discuss their plan while outside with the sunshine beating down on them.
Francene had a message for Weston immediately after he left Jade and that horrible, tension-filled room she’d been in last night. Timothy was in. And now this morning was going to be spent solely on training the former bodyguard in proper handling and usage of the steam-rifles. Assuming he learned quickly, he’d then go with the shipment to the Hollows, under the guise of teaching the guards there. Granted, they had at least two weeks until the shipment was set to go out, and they were cutting things close, but this was the best they were able to do with what time they had. And Timothy would teach the Hollows guards, of course, but his primary mission would be rescuing Andre.
“Everett had a hand in Count Mendez’s death. I’m sure of it. And Sir Catalina would be a powerful testimony against Everett.” Timothy gazed down the grassy field behind the workshop, his heavy eyes squinting as he scowled. “It’s not like I have much to lose at this point.”
Zak’s lips twisted, but he nodded.
Not the best of reasons, but ...he was all they had at this point. Weston tugged at the cravat around his neck, then yanked it off. Sweat already beaded on his forehead and dripped down his back. It was a training day. It didn’t matter if he looked proper right now.
Timothy hefted the steam-rifle and Weston hurried forward to point to a gear on the bottom of the rifle, by Timothy’s gloved hand. “Don’t forget to crank this and build pressure before your next shot.”
Timothy grunted in reply and followed Weston’s directions. Weston stood back, and tried not to stare at Jade from the corner of his eye.
Jade was dressed for a day out on the field, and seeing her in such casual clothes was proving to be more of a distraction than Weston could’ve imagined. Up till now, she’d always been attired for the palace, or in the dresses that Francene insisted that Jade wear. Here, she wore loose mechanic pants, a simple blouse, and a leather bodice.
He wasn’t sure if it was just the distinctly casual outfit, or the fact that she actually seemed relaxed at this exact moment, but whatever the difference was, it was driving him crazy in the best of ways. Or crazy in the worst of ways. A dark aura radiated off Jade’s female Monomi guard, Zaborah. He still couldn’t tell if she was always annoyed, or if something had happened, or if it was something that he’d done, but her blue eyes followed Jade wherever she moved, and lines settled around Zaborah’s mouth with the same permanence as a marble carving.
Weston motioned, and Timothy handed the steam-rifle to him. Weston checked the dial, then the gauge, before handing the rifle back to Timothy, cautious not to wallop the leather bag of water attached to the bottom of the weapon. Despite forgetting to crank it first, Timothy was doing well with the measurements.
Timothy lifted the rifle, aimed, and a loud puff of steam rolled over his covered arms at the same time as the target at the end of the field splintered on the edge. Timothy whooped and lifted a fist in the air. “There we go!”
“Better,” Weston
admitted. He reached out, and Timothy handed the steam-rifle to him. Weston loaded it, then cranked up the pressure. He widened his stance and held it up to his shoulder, taking a moment to exhale. He pulled the trigger. The second band around the target indented.
Jade leaned over the table and poked a finger at a second steam-rifle, a small frown tugging on her mouth. “I hadn’t realized how hard these must be to shoot.” She straightened and looked at Zak. “I guess Ben really was a natural with his pistol.”
Zak shrugged and dropped his folded arms, gesturing at the weapon in Weston’s hands. “Do you mind if I try?”
Weston blinked at Zak for a long heartbeat before coming to, nodding and backing up to allow him to come forward. “It wouldn’t hurt for all of you to know how to use one of these, really.” Weston lifted his eyebrows at Zaborah and she pursed her lips before moving around the table to join them. “I know your clan prefers traditional weaponry, but now you can say you’re among the first to use the new tech.”
Zaborah scoffed and picked up the second weapon. “Not that we need it. But I’m intrigued.” She ran her fingers over the length of the barrel and sighted down the scope. “I prefer my blades, personally. Besides, what can you do with this when you’re waiting around? At least I can sharpen my sword when bored.”
“That’s one perspective, I suppose.” Weston turned away from the blonde warrior woman and nodded at Timothy. “Anyway. Let’s see you do this again.”
Timothy’s third shot hit the second ring of the target. Both Monomi got the third outer edge, and Weston tried to tamp down on the impatience bubbling under his skin. They had a chance of this working, but only if they could get Timothy to be a good enough shot to send him as a teacher.
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