by Jayne Castel
Fortunately, he could swim. However, that didn’t mean he was keen to dive in. He could tell it was swiftly flowing, the sort of river that would have dangerous whirlpools just beneath the surface, hidden from view. There was a reason he’d never seen anyone bathe in its waters—but there was no other way out of the city. He’d never get by the guards at the main gates. It was the river or capture.
Elias muttered a curse, sheathed his still bloodied knife, and jumped in.
The water’s chill made his breath gust out of him. Even now, in summer, the Rith felt as if it came off an ice-flow.
He swam with the current, letting it carry him west, under the walls, and to freedom. The strong flow sucked at him, the chill throbbing through his limbs. It wasn’t easy getting out of the river, for its banks were high and covered in slippery reeds. But, after grabbing hold of a low-hanging willow-branch, Elias heaved himself up on his belly.
Gasping for breath and shivering, he climbed up the bank and onto the road.
It was still and silent out here, beyond the city walls. Breathing hard, Elias turned his head back to The Royal City. Numerous bonfires within lit up parts of the upper and lower towns like beacons, while flares of light exploded at intervals into the sky. And above it all, the palace stood, its pale walls glowing in the light of a half-moon that had just risen. The Tower of the North rose high into the night, graceful and silent, untouched by the cares of the rest of the world.
I’ve failed.
Elias waited for frustration and anger to boil up inside him, as it had last time he’d tried to kill the princess, but it didn’t. This evening, an altogether different sensation filtered through him—relief.
The oppressive weight he’d been carrying for weeks lifted. It was like taking a hot bath at the end of a long journey and washing away all the grime. For the first time ever, he felt like he had free will.
Elias let out a long exhale.
He’d handled things badly. Santino was dead, and the rest of his men would be apprehended or killed. Yet the boulder had been let lose down the mountainside now. The only thing he could do was get out of its way. He would have to run, disappear like a wraith into the forest and do his best to elude the soldiers who’d hunt him.
Turning his back on the city, he broke into a brisk jog and headed west out of the valley.
Ryana sprinted into the alleyway, skidding to a halt when she spied the crumpled figure before her. A man dressed in crimson and black.
Her breathing caught.
Elias.
Panic warred with the simmering fury that pulsed within her. It reached up its clawed hand and grasped her around the throat. Behind her, shouting and excited chatter drifted into the alley. Beyond, the revelers on the streets had heard there had been an attack—and that a man had died.
No!
But it wasn’t Elias sprawled there. As soon as she moved closer, she saw that the man was of a much smaller and slenderer build. His ashen face was sharp featured, a vulpine look accentuated by his neatly trimmed dark beard. He lay in a pool of blood.
Ninia stood a few feet back from the body. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she wore a grim expression. A circle of guards surrounded her, swords drawn and gazes watchful. A short distance away, under one of the awnings, a woman was crying hysterically. A pale-faced young man was doing his best to calm her.
“What happened here?” Asher stepped up next to Ryana. His gaze fixed upon the fallen Anthor soldier.
“This man tried to knife me,” Ninia replied. “I was going to stop him, but Elias beat me to it.”
Ryana went still, her heart now thundering in her chest. “He killed one of his own men?”
Ninia nodded.
“We’ve managed to capture the remaining four men of Anthor … they’ve been taken up to the palace for questioning.” One of the guards spoke up, interrupting them. “But we can’t find the prince.”
Asher nodded, his attention shifting to Ninia. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. Elias ran … I told him to.”
A beat of silence followed, before Asher’s face went hard. “Why did you do that?”
Ninia met his gaze squarely. “Elias saved my life; I knew what would happen if he was caught.”
“He entered the city under false pretenses,” Asher growled. “He is an enemy of the Kingdom. He came here to assassinate you.”
Ninia snorted. “You’ve a short memory, Asher … weren’t you once sent to kill me too?”
The High Enchanter stiffened, his silver gaze narrowing. “Aye, but I’m not a trained killer.”
“I don’t think you and the prince are that different,” Ninia countered. “You’re both tormented by your own conscience.” Her mouth curved then. “The guards went after Elias … but I doubt they’ll catch him.”
Asher cursed. “I can’t believe you let him escape.”
Ninia continued to face Asher down. Her eyes gleamed in the lamplight, and she suddenly looked much older than fourteen. “Elias had plenty of opportunities to attack me over the past days,” she said finally. “But he didn’t take any of them. Just like you, people can change. Elias isn’t the same man who tracked us into The Forest of Fallen.” She glanced over at Ryana, her gaze pointed. “Something’s shifted in him ever since he arrived here.”
Ryana didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself to.
Ninia shifted her attention back to Asher, chin lifting in defiance. “I know Nathan won’t be pleased about this, but I’ll deal with the consequences.”
19
Hunted
RYANA LEFT ASHER and Ninia arguing in the alleyway.
They didn’t notice her go.
Pushing past the company of guards who’d just trooped in off the street, Ryana clenched her jaw so hard that a sharp pain darted through her ears. Out in the wide thoroughfare, still thronged with revelers and fire displays as if nothing had happened, she turned right and marched toward the city gates.
Reaching the gates, Ryana found them barred and a row of hard-faced soldiers blocking her path.
“Let me pass,” she greeted them curtly.
“No one out or in,” one of the soldiers replied. “King’s orders.”
Ryana’s pulse accelerated, panic rising within her. This wouldn’t do. She had to get out of the city.
Shoving down the urge to barge past the soldiers, Ryana raised her right hand, revealing the Star of Darkness on her palm. “His Highness has sent me out to hunt the Anthor prince.” she replied, her voice tightly controlled now. “Just in case he’s managed to get outside the city.”
The guards exchanged dubious looks.
“Every moment you waste counts.” Impatience boiled within Ryana now. She was close to gathering the Dark and blasting these men aside. “If Elias of Anthor is indeed beyond these walls, you’re making it harder for me to apprehend him.”
The guard nearest met her eye, before his mouth thinned. “Open the gates.” His order rang out, and a moment later iron groaned as the bolts drew back.
Favoring the guard with a brusque nod, Ryana stepped through the breach.
The heavy iron gates boomed shut behind her.
The fires atop the walls illuminated the world for a few yards, but dense shadows lay beyond the city’s edge. A half-moon bathed the land in a soft silver light, yet even so the darkness had a brooding, watchful edge to it.
Shadow creatures no longer stalked the night, as they had a year earlier, but Ryana felt herself tense nonetheless. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, for it was her ally. Even so, she wasn’t used to venturing out blind like this, without even a torch to light her way.
Ryana drew in a deep breath and gathered the Dark, grabbing at it rather than using her usual gentle summons. The shadows lunged toward her with a growl, boiling around her feet. She’d always cautioned Ninia against treating the Light or Dark so roughly. However, it was difficult when she was this angry.
Fury writhed in her belly, longing f
or an outlet.
Elias.
I’ll get you … you bastard.
Just the thought of the prince filled her with a killing rage that made it hard to breathe, hard to think. All his talk of peace when in reality he’d been biding his time to strike. Ninia could have been killed.
She should have paid more attention. She should have never let down her guard.
Breathe, she counselled herself. You can’t work in this state … focus.
Around her the Dark gradually settled to an irate chatter. Some of it, she sent ahead. As her scouts, they would search the road and the surrounding hillside and warn her if they found Elias. The remainder of the Dark, Ryana pulled around her in a cloak.
Its nearness steadied her. Heaving in another deep breath, she stepped out onto the road, traveling west.
Ryana’s scouts didn’t come back for a while.
The Royal City lay many furlongs behind her, and her feet where starting to ache, when they finally returned. To the east, the sky was starting to lighten. Dawn was approaching.
Sensing the chatter of the approaching Dark, Ryana halted, tensing as it swirled around her, whispering to her.
Moments later she allowed herself a tight smile.
She’d done the right thing keeping to the road.
It seemed that Elias had taken the same route, waiting till he was a decent distance from the capital before he struck out south.
Ryana’s smile hardened. Of course, he’d be heading for the border.
Whispering her thanks to the Dark, Ryana sent out fresh scouts in the direction those returning had indicated. She wanted to know exactly where Elias was. She didn’t want any surprises when she approached him.
Stepping off the highway, Ryana lengthened her stride, her tired feet forgotten. Brow furrowed, she walked up the hill and into a dense pine thicket that covered a narrow valley between two mountains. It was the best route south. She wasn’t surprised Elias had taken it.
She needed to move fast. The king’s men would soon dispatch a hunting party. She wanted to find Elias first.
Elias knelt by the stream and splashed water over his face. It was ice-cold, splintering the fog of exhaustion that had settled over him. He’d been traveling all night, and now that a red dawn filtered through the trees, he wanted nothing more than to stretch out under one of the surrounding firs and sleep for a while.
He couldn’t rest though. They would be hunting him now.
He’d yet to hear dogs, but he knew they would have picked up his scent. He’d be lucky to make it to the border.
Behind him, a twig snapped.
Elias straightened up, his right hand drifting down to the blade in his boot. Unsheathing it, he rose to his feet and slowly turned.
The stream ran through a mossy glade. Dark conifers rose around him in a wall, the air heavy with the scent of pine resin.
Elias frowned as he swept his gaze around him. He sensed a presence, could feel someone’s gaze boring into him, but he couldn’t see them.
Resheathing his knife, Elias cocked his head. “You can come out now, Ryana.”
Silence filtered across the clearing. Elias made no attempt to fill it. Now that he knew who lurked in the shadows, he was in no rush to speak.
Eventually, a tall figure stepped out into the clearing. Ryana stood before him, her cloak of shadows sloughing away.
Their gazes met. “How did you know it was me?” she asked. Her voice was sharp, forced.
Elias barely recognized the woman before him. Her face was pale and rigid; her skin was pulled tight across her high cheekbones. Those grey-blue eyes that could twinkle with mirth or darken with pleasure were like two chips of ice.
“Only you could have found me so fast,” he replied. “I should have avoided the king’s men and their hounds for a while longer.”
Her mouth twisted. “So you guessed?”
Elias huffed a soft laugh. “Aye … you could say that.” He paused then, his gaze narrowing. “Did you speak to Ninia?”
A deep groove formed between her eyebrows. “I did … but don’t think that changes anything. You owed her.” She took a slow step toward him then, her gaze burning. “You should have kept away from me.”
Elias drew in a slow breath. “I probably should have,” he admitted. “Yet I couldn’t help myself.”
“And I’m supposed to be flattered by that?”
He held her gaze steadily. “It’s the truth.”
Ryana’s expression grew darker still. Elias noted how the fingers of her right hand flexed. She was readying herself to attack.
“All those days pretending you wanted peace.” Her voice turned into a snarl. “But it was one big lie.” She took another, aggressive step toward him. “A goshawk flew in from Veldoras yesterday.” Ryana paused, a muscle bunching in her jaw. “When I told you of Gael, you acted as if you didn’t know him. But in reality he’s your father’s right hand. He’s rallying the enchanters of Veldoras, readying them to fight alongside those of Mirrar Rock. Reoul doesn’t want peace. He’s planning to take on Rithmar using Stynix.”
Elias tensed. In truth he hadn’t understood much of what Ryana had just said. Confused, he frowned, before deciding to address Ryana’s ex-lover first.
“I told the truth about Gael,” he said after a long pause. “I’ve never met the man.”
“Liar.”
Elias shook his head. “I also know nothing about this coalition between Anthor and Thûn enchanters … and I’ve never heard of Styx.”
“It’s called Stynix,” she spat at him. Ryana was glaring at him now, her self-control slowly slipping. “It was once used to enhance enchanters’ abilities, until they realized that it’s a poison. Apparently, Gael has discovered a way to neutralize its dangerous effects.” Her mouth twisted. “Your father didn’t trust your ability to finish Ninia off … the Stynix would ensure his enchanters can take her on if necessary.”
“I knew nothing about any of this, Ryana,” Elias countered, alarm coiling in the pit of his belly. “You must take me at my word.”
“Must I?” she spat. “Every word that comes out of your mouth is treacherous. You let us all believe there would be peace between our kingdoms. You even convinced me. But you’ll do anything to further the glory of Anthor … nothing and no one else matters. Valor, Honor, and Loyalty indeed.”
Elias shook his head. Ryana’s fury was an impenetrable wall between them. “I make no apologies for who I am,” he replied, his voice clipped. His own temper was fraying now. “But I didn’t plan any of this. All the work I put into those peace negotiations was real. My father isn’t likely to be interested in any of it, but I’m tired of following his lead. I did it for myself, and I spoke to Nathan in good faith.” He heaved a deep breath. “And as for you … that wasn’t planned either. But I’ll not regret it.”
In response, Ryana gathered the Dark in one swift movement and hurled it at him.
Elias had no time to react, or to even try to defend himself. A moment later he found himself lying on his back in the stream, a coil of shadows wrapped around his throat.
Reaching up, Elias tried to pry off the garrote—but it was like taking hold of quicksilver. He couldn’t get a grip on it. All the while it tightened, slowly crushing his windpipe.
Ryana approached, stalking him. He’d never seen her this way. A huntress: fey, beautiful, and as wild as the shadows she wielded. She waded out into the stream and stood over him. “It’s time for you to meet the same end as your brother,” she snarled. “I can’t think of a more fitting death for either of you.”
20
And There Was You
RYANA STARED DOWN at Elias and slowly drew the fingers of her right hand in toward her palm.
The Dark obeyed her, tightening its grip on his throat.
Elias’s lips parted. He was struggling for breath, grappling with the garrote. He was strong, but he couldn’t break it.
And yet he didn’t beg to be released. Even on the
edge of death the man was stubborn and proud. The Shadows take her, but she loved that about him. The realization made Ryana even angrier.
“Killing me won’t change anything.” Elias’s voice was a rasp. “Alive … I’m more useful to you.”
“And why is that?”
The pressure on his throat increased, and Elias’s dark eyes widened, panic flickering in their depths. His face turned taut. “I can get you to Gael,” he managed. “Together we can stop Anthor from attacking Rithmar … I will … make my father see sense.”
Those final words were barely audible. Elias gave up speaking then. His body arched back, his legs kicking as he started to suffocate.
An instant later Ryana released him.
With a gasp he collapsed back into the stream. The clear water bubbled over smooth grey stones and eddied around him. Elias paid it no mind. He rolled over onto his side, choking, wheezing, and clutching his bruised throat.
Ryana watched him.
Her fingers itched to tighten once more, to have this arrogant, ruthless, and deceitful man at her mercy. But the red fury that had descended upon her as she’d stepped into the clearing started to ebb.
She couldn’t kill him.
Watching Elias struggle to recover his breath, she wondered if she’d come to regret her decision.
Elias pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was soaking wet but didn’t appear to notice. His gaze fastened upon her, and she caught the baleful glint in his eyes. She’d have to be careful around him now.
The mask had slipped. He’d likely want his revenge upon her.
“So … you can get me to Gael?” she asked finally.
Elias nodded.
Ryana stared back at him. She tried not to think about his betrayal, his lies. It was too raw.
Instead, she focused on Gael. Just the thought of the enchanter made her belly ache. Gael was like the Grey Ravage, a plague that you couldn’t rid yourself of—he kept turning up and poisoning everything he touched. After those knives Dain had sunk into him, the enchanter should have died that day in the cavern under the Shadefell Mountains. Yet somehow he’d lived. And not only that, his ambitions had merely shifted elsewhere. Now that releasing Valgarth was no longer possible, he’d appeared at Reoul’s side.
