by Jayne Castel
It occurred to her then that this would be her only chance to stop the man.
This wouldn’t be vengeance; it was unfinished business.
“When did Gael ally himself with your father?”
Elias swallowed, wincing as the act pained him. “I don’t know. I told you … I’ve never met him.” He paused here, before he rose unsteadily to his feet. “It’ll be recent … after my departure for Rithmar.”
Ryana’s mouth thinned. She still didn’t believe him.
Elias stepped out of the stream, his waterlogged boots squelching. Even bedraggled, he was distractingly attractive. His leather breeches and silk shirt clung to his muscular frame. However, Ryana was grateful for the stony expression on his face. It reminded her who this man really was.
Silence fell in the clearing, broken only by the whisper of the breeze through the pines and the chatter of the stream.
Hurt rose then, crushing her chest and making it difficult to breathe—but Ryana shoved it aside. She would lick her wounds later, when she was far from this man.
Ryana’s brow furrowed as she considered the way forward.
She could try taking Elias back to The Royal City and handing him over to Nathan.
The thought appealed.
But it wouldn’t get her to Gael.
“Gael has no allegiance to anyone but himself,” she said finally. “He’ll use your father to his own ends. He must be stopped.”
Elias gave a brusque nod. On one thing they agreed. “So come with me to Veldoras,” he replied, his voice still hoarse. “I’ll speak to my father and try to persuade him to avoid conflict with Rithmar. In the meantime, you track Gael down and kill him.”
Ryana’s anger surged once more. Elias was trying to take control of the situation, but she wouldn’t let him. “I don’t need you for that.” The fingers of her right hand flexed, and the shadows under the nearby pines whispered back. “Maybe I should just finish what I started … here and now.”
Elias withdrew the slender blade from the back of his boot once more, his big body coiling. He wouldn’t let her catch him off guard again. “You won’t get into Veldoras without me,” he pointed out. “My father will have the city locked down.”
Ryana scowled. She could always cloak herself in shadow and try to sneak in, but it would certainly be easier to travel south with his help. “So your father will listen to you?” she asked finally.
“I’m likely the only person who could convince him,” he replied.
She moved back from him, glancing up at where the sun now peeked over the tree tops. “We’d better get moving then. We’ve a long journey before us.”
She glanced back at Elias to see him watching her, his gaze wary. “So you’ll travel to Veldoras with me?”
“Aye.”
“And what of Nathan’s men? They’ll hunt us down before we reach the border.”
Ryana cast him a humorless smile, letting the mask settle firmly in place. “Not if they don’t pick up our scents … I had my shadows erase any sign of our trail so I could finish you before anyone arrived.”
Elias glanced up at the hard blue sky, squinting into the glare.
It felt like the hottest day of the summer so far. The sun was almost as searing as it could be in Anthor. The heat had dried his wet clothes, although now they had itched and chafed his skin. It was late afternoon, and the heat had reached its peak. Sweat slid down his back and turned his silk shirt into a second skin once more.
He led the way down yet another forested vale. The highlands were vast. They still had another day of them, before the land would open out. Ryana followed around half a dozen yards behind Elias, silent and surly.
Apart from a few terse exchanges when they’d rested briefly at noon, they hadn’t spoken since leaving the clearing. Elias didn’t mind that—he wasn’t uncomfortable with silence. However, his temper had slowly been simmering all day.
Ryana had tried to kill him.
When she’d first attacked him, he hadn’t been overly concerned. He’d thought she’d just been letting off steam. But when that garrote of shadows had tightened around his throat, he’d realized she was serious.
Elias clenched his hands by his sides, remembering the incident.
The mad bitch had nearly gone through with it. That was the closest he’d ever come to dying. Even when Darg had tortured him inside the Dim Hold months earlier, it hadn’t been this close. He itched to take out some form of retribution upon her. He would have if it had been anyone else.
But underneath Elias’s outrage lay a deep disappointment—in himself, and in her. The woman he had enjoyed flirting with, the woman he’d bedded, had disappeared.
It was as if nothing had ever happened between them.
Elias swatted away a fly and scowled. His regret irritated him.
There had never been much time in Elias’s life for women. A soldier’s life meant that his unions were usually short-lived—and until now that hadn’t mattered. But in just a few days Ryana had gotten under his skin. It bothered him that she’d gone so cold, that she hated him now.
It’s over, he reminded himself cruelly. You need to look ahead.
And he did. He had to ensure they reached the border, before Nathan’s soldiers caught up with them. After that they would need to ride swiftly for Veldoras.
Elias clenched his jaw as he walked, determination settling over him. He’d failed at the mission his father had set him—but now he was free to choose his own way forward.
He was free to persuade his father to keep the peace with Rithmar.
The day slowly waned. The sun set late this time of year, especially this far north, and Elias was relieved when the sky finally started to glow pink to the east. They made camp for the night next to a rock pool and a swiftly flowing mountain stream, where Elias caught them a trout. He lit a fire on the riverbank and used his knife to scale and gut the fish.
Ryana had taken a seat upon a large sun-warmed rock a few feet away. She said nothing, did not comment on the day that had passed or on the fact that he’d caught them supper.
Elias cooked the fish upon a flat stone he placed in the center of the fire. Soon the delicious aroma of cooking trout wafted up into the balmy evening air. Elias’s belly growled. He hadn’t eaten since supper the night before. His mouth watered as he turned the fish over. Just a little longer and it would be ready.
They ate in silence.
Ryana would have been as hungry as he was, but she gave no sign. The trout’s flesh was pink and juicy. You didn’t get this kind of fish at Mirrar Rock. Trout was a delicacy that Elias hadn’t discovered until he left Anthor. It was one of the few foods that he would miss if he ever returned home to live.
Eventually, Ryana broke the tense silence between them.
“You should put that fire out,” she said, her voice sharp. “I’ve done my best to mask our trail today, but let’s not put out a beacon.”
Elias frowned. He wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware of the fact that keeping a fire blazing at night would only draw unwelcome visitors to the campsite. Without speaking, he rose to his feet and kicked dirt over the fire, dousing it. Then he settled back down upon the riverbank.
It was an idyllic spot to stop at for the night. The rock pool was deep and clear. The gush of water as the river bubbled its way down the rocky hillside mingled with the twitter of roosting birds.
Elias glanced over at Ryana. She wasn’t looking his way. She’d returned to that large flat stone, where she sat cross-legged. She’d closed her eyes, and her right hand waved and fluttered. Without asking, Elias knew that she was setting wards around the campsite. If anyone approached, they would warn her.
Elias waited until she finished her task before he spoke. “I’m used to silence, Ryana,” he began softly. “But is this how it will be? We aren’t to speak till we reach Veldoras?”
Ryana’s gaze flicked toward him. “I prefer silence to lies,” she replied, her voice wintry.
&
nbsp; Elias watched her. His throat still ached from her attack at dawn, a reminder of what had passed between them. “I’ve had my secrets, Ryana,” he admitted softly. “Ones I couldn’t share with you.”
“Aye … what a burden it must have been for you.”
There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice.
His gaze narrowed. “You have no idea.” They stared at each other for a long moment, before Elias continued. “I was brought up to follow orders without questioning them.”
Her eyes shadowed, yet she held her tongue.
“I should have killed Ninia months ago,” Elias pressed on. “So I was sent to finish the job. I was to distract Nathan with talk of peace while I got close enough to Ninia to strike.” Elias paused here, choosing his words carefully. “But I couldn’t forget what Ninia did. She saved my life, and I couldn’t let it go. Every time I got close to her, it stopped me from drawing my blade. The peace negotiations complicated matters too … I was given a glimpse of what the future could look like.” He halted here, his gaze never leaving Ryana’s. “And then there was you.”
Ryana heaved in a deep breath. “I was a distraction,” she murmured.
“No,” he countered, leaning toward her. “You weren’t.”
“Stop.” She brought up a hand to ward him off. Her face had gone taut, and her eyes gleamed as if she was on the verge of tears. “No more of your lies.”
“Ryana,” he tried again. “I don’t—”
“Enough.”
With that, Ryana turned away, giving him her back.
21
Destiny
NINIA WATCHED KING Nathan closely. Despite the humid morning, he wore his heavy mink cloak. The mantle emphasized the breadth and power of his shoulders. Nonetheless, it couldn’t disguise his tension. A nerve flickered under one eye, and his jaw clenched. Nathan’s brown eyes smoldered, and the hand that lay upon the table was fisted.
The king didn’t speak while they all filed into the Council Chamber.
Taking her own seat, Ninia glanced over at where Asher had just sat down. He wore a serious expression, his gaze shadowed. Beside him, Mira was frowning. She’d taken Ryana’s place at the table.
The Head of the Dark’s absence was painfully evident this morning.
Once all the members of the council were seated, the king turned to the captain of the King’s Guard. “Jonas … any word from your men?”
Captain Jonas’s mouth thinned. “Most of them are still out searching, sire. However, they sent back news that the prince has eluded them so far. The hounds haven’t been able to pick up his scent.”
Nathan’s dark brows knitted together. He shifted his gaze to Asher. “This is Ryana’s doing, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily,” Asher replied, frowning. “Elias could have covered his tracks.”
The king continued to stare him down. “No one escapes my dogs.”
Asher’s frown deepened. “Ryana wouldn’t help Elias escape.”
“And yet she’s gone … and you can’t tell me where.”
“Ryana was shocked when I told her about his treachery,” Asher pointed out. “Why would she help him?”
King Nathan leaned back in his carven chair and viewed the High Enchanter under hooded lids. “Because they’re lovers.”
A stunned silence fell in the chamber. Asher and Mira exchanged looks, while Captain Jonas shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Ninia’s breathing hitched as she remembered her conversation with Ryana atop the House of Light and Darkness a few days earlier. She’d teased her friend at the time, but it all made sense now.
Deciding it was best to address this head on, Ninia cleared her throat. “Do you have proof of this, Your Highness?”
The king shifted his attention to her. His stare wasn’t friendly. For the first time since she’d come to live in Rithmar, Ninia felt an outsider. The assessing look on his face reminded her that Nathan was a military commander. “Do you think I’d let an Anthor prince walk around my city unwatched?” Nathan replied. “He couldn’t keep away from the witch.”
Ninia tensed. She didn’t like the tone the king had just used. Ryana was a talented enchanter and her friend. “Ryana didn’t go with Elias,” she pointed out with a frown. “He left on his own.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t wait for her outside the city walls,” Nathan replied. His expression hardened further. “Why did you let him escape?”
Ninia squared her shoulders. She’d been waiting for this and had been surprised that Nathan hadn’t hauled her in for a meeting the night before. Yet it seemed he’d been biding his time, waiting until they had an audience. Ninia didn’t mind, she’d spent most of her life dealing with the intrigue, disputes, and politics of court life. Even so, Nathan of Rithmar was an intimidating sight this morning. “You know why,” she said, raising her voice so it echoed off the council chamber walls. “He stopped one of his men from killing me.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“Aye, it was.” A chill silence settled over the chamber at these words. Nathan had gone still, his gaze boring into her, but Ninia continued. “You don’t understand.” She then cast a quelling look in Asher’s direction. “And you should, but don’t seem to either.”
Asher’s gaze narrowed, while across the table Nathan started to twist the signet ring he wore on the little finger of his right hand. His gaze smoldered. “Enlighten us then.”
“A bond was forged between Elias and me in the Dim Hold when I spared his life,” Ninia replied, pressing on doggedly despite Mira’s warning look. “He’s a complex man, weighed down by a sense of responsibility that will be his undoing … but he isn’t black-hearted.” She paused here. “I don’t regret letting him go.”
It was true. Relief had filtered over her as she’d watched Elias disappear down that alley.
She was glad he’d gotten away.
Nonetheless, sweat trickled down her back between her shoulder blades as she weathered Nathan’s displeasure. Ninia had no wish to thwart the king, but she wouldn’t apologize.
“You’ve let an assassin loose,” Nathan replied, his voice harsh now. “A man who lied his way into my confidence, who wasted days of my time.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a ruse?” Ninia countered. The king’s fury was blistering, but she wouldn’t back down. “I believe Elias does want peace.”
The king’s clenched fist slammed down on the table. The sound boomed through the chamber. “You defend him?”
Ninia stared back at him, her own hands balling into fists on her lap. Her heart started to pound against her breast bone. Nathan was threatening, but she wouldn’t let him dominate her. He wasn’t her king.
“Reoul of Anthor sits on the Swallow Throne plotting while he sends his son to kill you.” Nathan bit out the words. “And now he’s in league with the same enchanter who nearly freed Valgarth … the man Ryana assured me was dead.”
“We all thought Gael was,” Asher interjected.
Nathan leaned forward, clasping his hands together. His nostrils flared when he fixed Asher with a hard stare. Ninia let out a slow breath, relieved that the king had found another focus for his anger. “Thought, isn’t good enough.”
Asher’s jaw tightened at that, but this time he held his tongue. The king’s temper held by a thread.
Silence fell in the chamber, while Nathan silently seethed.
Ninia cast a cautious glance around her, taking in the tense faces and wary gazes. Would anyone dare speak?
Eventually, the king reclined in his chair and began to slowly twist his signet ring once more. “When I heard that Anthor had repaired and remanned the leagueforts, my first instinct was to rebuild my army and ready myself for an attack,” he rumbled. “I gathered men from every corner of the kingdom to my side, but the Anthor prince’s arrival deflected my focus.” Nathan paused here, his gaze sweeping around the table. “I’ll not wait till they march on us. Reoul is a usurper. He knows that t
he use of Stynix is forbidden, yet he’ll stop at nothing to extend his power.” Nathan’s attention came to rest upon Ninia then, pinning her to the spot. “We will march south, liberate Veldoras from its oppressors … and put the rightful heir on The Swallow Throne.”
Ninia flinched, as if he’d just struck her. She’d been expecting his rage, but not this. She stared, aghast. “Your Highness,” she began, using Nathan’s title for the first time since entering the chamber. Now was not the time for defiance. “I’m not ready. Of course, I wish to see an end to my people’s suffering … but this is too soon.”
Nathan shook his head. “This isn’t up for debate, princess. It’s time for you to accept who you are … to accept your destiny.”
Ninia’s fists tightened, her fingernails digging into her palms. “But what about my training? My life is here, with the Order.”
“Your life is in Veldoras, ruling your people,” Nathan countered, his expression turning fierce. “Thûn has been crushed, stripped of hope. It needs you.”
Asher found Ninia atop the flat roof of the House of Light and Darkness.
She was leaning against the balustrade, staring off into the distance. Joining her, Asher didn’t speak immediately. After they’d returned from the palace, he’d left Ninia alone for a while. However, when she didn’t appear for the noon meal, he’d gone looking for her. She hadn’t been in her chamber, so the roof was the next place to look.
The sun beat down on them, heat rising up from the surrounding stone. There was no shade up here, and yet Ninia didn’t seem to notice the blinding sun. Her face was hard, her hazel eyes almost green with the force of the emotions churning within her.
