43. Cano
Chapter forty-three
Sitting on the hard ground, my head tilted skyward and pressed into the stone wall at my back. I close my eyes, thinking about just how fucked my life has become. I don’t know who I blame more, the man who raised me… Or myself for allowing him to corrupt my mind? I guess it doesn’t matter either way.
Soren Croix will see me rot in this dungeon, his son or not. He won’t care if I never see another ray of sunshine or if my wolf basks in the glow of the moon. My head shakes at the mere thought of him caring about anything other than himself and what he deems important; what he’s always considered the most important. Power .
“What did you mean that ‘it’s almost time’?” I ask the question, my voice lost to the void. The shadows down here are all-consuming. The man who spoke could very well be right next to me, and I wouldn’t know with how dark it is. He doesn’t answer though—only silence stretches on.
Banging footfalls sound in the distance, and I straighten my spine as I wait for them to enter the dungeon. It’s likely my father, or rather, he probably doesn’t even care to do the torturing himself and sent his men to deliver it. The heavy door squeals as its hinges swing wide, allowing the door to open. The man standing in the wedge of light shocks me.
“Imagine my surprise when I heard where the great Croix heir was being held… I couldn’t believe my ears,” King Phyrrohs says as he enters the darkened place. His silhouette is lit from behind by the orange glow of the flames from the sconces in the hall, and the deep shadow he gives only grows as he comes closer. “Gods tell, what is going on to land you in this situation?” He asks curiously, his tone mocking. He tucks his arms behind him as he reaches where I sit. From where I stand in the darkness, he sounds very much like his son, but where Osiris is emotionless, King Phyrrohs has an allure to his voice. A deep song that calls power to him.
“You’ve come to the wrong place if you are looking for answers. This is where secrets come to die.” I choke the words out on a dry throat. He crouches down, his face finally showing as my eyes adjust to the flickering light from the doorway.
“I will walk away with one answer here tonight. Tell me why your father denies the fact that the girl he keeps prisoner is in fact the moon raven?” He asks in a whisper. My eyes never leave the shadow that covers his face. He is looking for more than one answer from this question, and he will get nothing from me. Fuck him. I have no reason to trust the King of Valeska; after all, he’s willingly working with my father and seems to have an agenda of his own. Instead, I sit quietly as I wait for his retreat. An air of silence passes before he silently stands and walks to the door.
“Silences are just as much a lie as the words falling from your tongue. If there ever was a time for you to open your mouth and gain the trust of a true king, now is it.” He waits only a moment before the door shuts between us, blocking the minuscule light and casting me into darkness once again.
“Secrets never die, wolf. They merely become buried under truths and lies. Eventually, they resurface, sometimes like a beautiful flower seeking the light of the sun… and other times… something sinister; as deadly as the winter rose, blooming only when touched by the dark side of the moon.” A craggy voice says from the darkness.
“Oh, now you decide to talk? And in riddles, how grand.” I scoff, my voice echoing through the shadows, but cut off by a loud bang against the door that King Phyrrohs just exited. I pull at my binds, as though doing so will get me closer to the door. I strain my neck to hear what is going on but can’t hear much more than a murmur beyond the heavy steel.
“Fate has a way with its timing. Does it not?” The voice says, surprising me when he is closer than the last time he spoke. Fate has certainly had its way with timing… unfortunately for me, it’s all been a little too late. I know now that although fate is kind to some, it is usually a payment for what you put into the world. Balance, in a sense, and it’s not measured by good or bad, but the impact of choice. It’s not all light and love, or darkness and hate, but sometimes a foggy gray that clouds reality.
The heavy steel door bangs open with force, causing me to snap out of the unfamiliar emotions of regret. I’m met with the glowing embers of Dax’s Raven staring down at me. Behind him the hulking figure of the Prince of Valeska.
“Well fuck me… That queen of yours has a way of making friends, doesn’t she?” I croak the question out and Dax reaches his arm out as he comes to a stop right in front of me. Offering me help to stand. I clap my hand into his and he pulls me to my feet.
“ Our queen was meant to be a leader. Making friends is what she was born to do for Aldramani.” He stares stone-faced into my eyes, and I purse my lips, agreeing with a nod. I have nothing to argue about that. Not anymore. The last few months have shown that to be true, not only that, but Dax was meant for the same destiny. I want nothing else than to see them take their thrones. That and watch my father’s blood spill and pool at my feet.
The rumbling growl of a dragon echoes from beyond, and a roar rattles the stone walls around us before the rippling sound of fire being expelled follows.
“As heartwarming as this little reunion is, we really need to get out of here,” Osiris says. The metal-on-metal scrape of him pulling his sword from his scabbard draws my attention away from Dax to see that he is coming toward me. “Put your hands out wide on the pillar there.” He demands with a jut of his chin. I look at him incredulously, without moving.
“You have got to be kidding me… Dax? Use your magic to melt the chain.” I say, shaking my head in denial.
“Magic won’t work on the chains, Cano, you know that,” Dax says, looking over his shoulder to the shadows.
“Mother fucker.” I growl but comply. I raise my hands high above my head, splaying them as wide as they will go so the chain is pulled taut.
“On the longest night, the plight of the kingdom unravels—the fight of kings with a snow white raven queen. The gods themselves watch the flight, the battle of wills, and that of might. Balance is tried, but in the end cannot be denied.” The distant voice drawls out just before the clank of metal hitting stone above my head echoes through my ears. My hands fall to my sides as blood rushes through my body with a surge of adrenaline.
Dax’s shadows blast from his hands and cause my already pounding pulse to skip; my tar-stained hands ache with the reminder of shadow magic, and my veins burn with recollection.
“He’s harmless. Just a prisoner who has gone crazy in the depths of depravity.” Even as I say it, it doesn’t feel right. I know a little bit about depravity, and if I can read anything from the look on Dax’s face, he feels the same.
“Get him. Let’s go.” Dax commands before turning and leaving the way he came. Osiris lingers for a moment but then follows, leaving me to retrieve the riddler.
“You heard him; let’s go.” I say as I make my way into the shadowed corner. Reaching down I help the man to his feet, realizing that he is a much taller man than I had thought. Nearly matching me in height. His shoulders are wide, but his frame is narrow with the lack of movement and nourishment he’s received in the dungeons.
“How odd it is to be imprisoned by the father and freed by the son. ” He says as he slings an arm over my shoulder and I help him limp into the hall.
“Yea, balance and all that bullshit… just don’t get me killed yet,” I grumble as he struggles to keep his footing. Once in the hall, I curse as I see Dax and Osiris stopped by guards at the end, leading to the hollow in the mountain where the dragons were allowed to rest. They eye Dax warily but bow reluctantly to the prince. Until they see me and the other prisoner hobbling behind.
The guard with pale blonde hair puts his hand on the hilt of his sword at his hip, and the air stills around us with the threat. I recognize him as one who always had an attitude problem; his lip curls as my eyes lock with his.
Everything begins to happen so fast. He pulls his blade free, the guard to his right pulling a dagger from his chest holster, and the moment they advance, Osiris’s sword lights with fire. Shadows burst from Dax’s hands and dance around the eerie blue mixed with orange, a telltale of dragon fire illuminating the hall from the prince’s sword. The guard who lunged stands in front of him frozen and eyes wide. He blinks once before the prince pushes him with two fingers in his chest, and he drops in two pieces, cut in half at the waist. The two halves fall to the ground cauterized and still smoking.
Dax’s shadows block out all vision of him and the other man, but when they slowly begin to dissipate, it is clear who the victor is. The pale skin of the guard has become even lighter. Bruising around his throat and his bleeding eyes unseeing, as he falls to his knees. Both soldiers are dead with barely a blink of an eye.
“So the plan is to kill and ask questions later?” I joke and get death looks from both Osiris and Dax. “ Noted .” I step over the blonde, but as soon as I get close to Dax, the look on his face has me pause. His mouth falls open, and his head begins shaking back and forth. He looks between me and the man I hold up; he tilts his head to the side. Pain fills his face, and moisture gathers in his eyes. He grabs the man by the chin to turn his face into the light provided by Osiris’s still-glowing blade.
“Uncle Declan?” Dax’s voice cracks, and my head whips to the side, looking at the man who is barely alive at my side.