Chapter 24
Nahlah
Huriyah’s happy whinny greeted us as the gate swung shut behind us, our belongings secured to him, including the basket from Vee. Normally, I would have assumed Rami had saddled him, but given the unusual occurrences since our arrival—almost as if an invisible force was anticipating our needs—I wasn’t so sure.
My clothes were not only freshly cleaned and pressed this morning, but upon entering the washroom, I’d discovered an array of my favorite soaps and lotions. After returning to the room, I”d found it immaculately arranged: the bed neatly made, spare pillows stored away, and not a single trace of the disarray we’d left. Even my satchel, which I had tossed aside the night before, was neatly arranged beside my freshly shined boots. The efficiency of it all had heightened my unease, and I’d dressed quickly, eager to escape the oppressive feeling of unseen eyes.
As we approached, Huriyah nickered impatiently, tossing his head in a clear demand for something. “Okay, okay,” Rami said, conjuring an apple in his palm, a small smile playing on his lips. The horse snatched it eagerly, crunching contentedly, while Rami affectionately patted his flank. Then, with a graceful motion, he hoisted himself into the saddle, his arm muscles flexing in a way that sent tingles through my body.
Embarrassment heated my cheeks as I replayed the morning’s events. The push for distance that had driven me from him contrasted with the visceral desire pulling me back, each emotion battling for dominance. When he’d settled above me, I should have insisted on space. Yet, in that moment, all I cared about was drawing him closer.
Despite knowing better, a reckless impulse had driven me to push him to the edge, to watch him break. The feeling of his arousal, his body tensing under my touch, had ignited a fervor within me. But it was his low groan of need that had fanned the flames into an unstoppable inferno. In that moment, I”d been certain he would close the gap with a kiss that promised to shatter me. I longed for it, craved it with every fiber of my being, even if it spelled my ruin.
But when he withdrew, reality crashed over me like an icy wave. He was the enforcer of this impossible scenario I’d found myself in, and despite the undeniable attraction between us, the complexities of my oath with the Sultan loomed larger than any fleeting moment of desire.
“Good morning, Huriyah!” Running my fingers through his mane, I kissed his face, smiling as the horse nudged me in response.
As Rami extended a hand to help me up, I ignored him, grasping the bridle and awkwardly hoisted myself into the saddle with an embarrassing amount of effort. Though I had to be physically close to him, I was determined to maintain an emotional distance, especially after my lapse in judgment. With firm resolve, I silently vowed not to speak to him unless absolutely necessary.
Rami’s arms came around me, one hand holding the map to the Zephyr”s Lair, the other a substance that shimmered like the first light of dawn. Sprinkling it onto the parchment, he waited a moment before blowing it off the page, where it showered over Huriyah’s head like a sprinkle of stars.
“What”s that?” I asked, instantly berating myself for breaking my vow not even a minute after making it.
“A GPS.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “A what?”
“A Guided Pixie Spell. The pixie dust acts as a conduit, and when sprinkled on the map, it absorbs the geographical information. When applied to Huriyah, it’ll guide him directly to our destination.”
My eyebrow arched in surprise at his casual mention of pixie dust. Its origins traced back to a solitary faedom within the star realm, and it was one of the rarest commodities. My mind raced, questioning how he came into possession of it, when it clicked—the Sultan’s obsession with the rare and extraordinary.
Unable to think of a response, I remained silent as he put the supplies away, grasping the reins and clicking his tongue twice. Huriyah immediately broke into a canter, swiftly gaining speed until we were galloping away from Vee’s house and deeper into the Shadowed Sands.
Hours had passed since we’d set out, the desolate black sands with their jagged rocks and eerie silence doing nothing to ease the tension. The air was thick with an almost tangible awkwardness, filling the space between us like a heavy fog. I had kept up a facade of strength in the face of severe boredom, not uttering a single word. In fact, the only sounds that punctuated the silence were Huriyah’s rhythmic hoofbeats and the rustle of the wind.
When Rami’s hand appeared beside me, offering a canteen of water, I accepted it without a word; the action providing a brief reprieve from the monotony but doing little to dispel it. However, when he handed me a black apple next, I couldn’t hide my surprise. “What”s that?”
“It’s from Vee’s garden.”
He selected another strangely colored pear-like fruit for himself, taking a bite. Almost against my will, my gaze followed the movement of him licking the juice from his lips, sending an unexpected, unwelcome warmth through me. I turned away sharply, feeling both flushed and irrationally bothered.
Casting a wary glance at the fruit, I took a tentative bite, my eyes widening at the impossibly delicious blend of textures and flavors. Though it resembled an apple, it was softer, like a plum, with the unexpected, sweet taste of honeyed watermelon. It was a bizarre yet delightful contradiction, unlike anything I’d tasted before.
“It’s good, right?”he asked, taking another bite of his own.
”Mhmm.”
“It’s called a plumelon.”
“Hmm,” I muttered, determined not to engage. If he could alternate between ignoring me and moments of intimacy, then he could keep his conversation to himself.
“They’re a result of Vee’s own crossbreeding,” he continued, as if he couldn’t stop talking. “He’s created dozens of different fruit.”
I remained stubbornly silent, but the mention of Vee brought to mind his shifting form—from a dark, writhing mass of shadowed vines and thorns to a beautiful fae with ebony skin, hair as red as a rose, and eyes as white as snow. My knowledge about curses was minimal, but as soon as I saw his flickering form, I knew Vee was under one.
Jolted awake by Huriyah’s sudden stop, I found myself disoriented, the firm grip of Rami’s arm around my waist the only thing preventing a graceless tumble. I yawned, the remnants of sleep clouding my senses as I looked around.
“How long was I asleep?” I asked, trying to gauge the passage of time from the unchanged landscape of black sand stretching in every direction.
“About an hour,” Rami replied, his arm dropping now that he knew I was awake. It surprised me that I”d not only fallen asleep in the saddle, but I”d slept for so long, and so comfortably too.
Turning my attention to Huriyah, I rubbed his neck, concern lacing my words as I asked, “Did you need a break, sweetling? Is that why we stopped?”
“No, I think we’re here,” Rami interjected.
Surprised, I slid to the ground, seeking confirmation from the horse. “Huriyah, are we here?” I asked, my voice soft, cooing. His head nod was decisive, leaving no room for doubt about his level of understanding.
“It appears so,” Rami confirmed as he dismounted. “The pixie dust floated away moments ago. We must have crossed a barrier.”
I hummed thoughtfully, my fingers weaving through Huriyah’s mane. “How do we find the Zephyr Wraith?”
“I’m not sure,” Rami admitted, a rare glimpse of vulnerability crossing his features as he rubbed a hand over the scruff on his face. “If memory serves, she sleeps until the depths of the night.”
I frowned, glancing up at the perpetual darkness. “How do we know when that is?”
“The movements of the shadows measure time,” he explained. “Each hour, they shift in intensity. As morning approaches, they become more translucent, casting fainter outlines. But as night draws nearer, they thicken and deepen. Based on the shadows’ current density,” he paused, his eyes scanning the horizon, “I’d estimate we have another few hours until she awakens. We should eat and get some rest until then.”
“Okay,” I agreed. As Rami busied himself putting the wards up, I started the fire. Before long, he had conjured a trough of water and fresh hay for Huriyah, cold canteens of water for us, and was roasting an assortment of vegetables from Vee’s basket in a tagine pot, the aroma filling the air with a homely scent.
“What are these?” I asked as he handed me a clay bowl of the odd-looking vegetables.
“This dark one is a flamecarrot,” Rami explained, pointing to a dull red-black vegetable. “It has a smoky, spicy undertone that’s quite distinctive.” He then gestured to a glowing pile of white beans. “These are moonbeans. They have a creamy, nutty flavor and are definitely my favorite.”
“They’re so pretty,” I remarked. It was an odd thing to think of a vegetable, but perfectly fitting. He quickly described the rest of the vegetables and their tastes before urging me to try them. Encouraged by his intriguing descriptions, I took a tentative bite of each one. All of them were delicious, but I had to agree with him—the moonbeans were my favorite.
“Well?” he asked, watching me intently.
“They’re very good,” I admitted. “Can you conjure these?”
He shook his head. “Because they’re grown from the black sands, only those with a shadow affinity can harvest them.”
“So, that means you can only summon things that originate from the earth?”
He nodded, popping a piece of shadow squash into his mouth. “Yes, an earth elemental’s abilities are limited to what is of nature, and their access varies depending on their specific affinity.”
His peculiar phrasing struck me; he spoke of this elemental as if we weren’t discussing him. I froze, a sudden realization hitting me, one I”d failed to realize during the commotion. Yesterday, he”d used the element of air multiple times. If he only had earth and water affinities, that would be impossible. It only deepened my suspicions that he wasn’t merely an elemental fae.
But then it begged the question, what was he?