57. Lora
Lora
The words of the prophecy churned in my mind as I pieced together the verses from the Forbidden Archives with those from the Queen’s Vault of Secrets.
The Archives’ text ended with the two widely known lines, while the Vault’s words began with them. Two halves of the same whole, split apart and hidden in opposing domains. The middle lines had spread across the world, surviving for centuries, while the rest lay buried, hidden away.
My stomach twisted as I repeated the words in my head. The fourth line grated on me the most.
With stolen stones, the ritual fails.
Would Erion have to perform a ritual to seal the rift? Was it a warning that he would fail? No, it couldn’t be. We’d might have taken the sun stone from the Archives, but we hadn’t stolen the moon stone, even if we’d planned to.
Maybe the lines referred to Erion’s sister and her boyfriend. That made more sense, since the following lines were the widely known prophecy, warning about combined powers opening the rift.
Erion hadn’t mentioned anything about his sister and her boyfriend stealing the stones, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they had, considering they hadn’t even shied away from murder.
“Move, you cracking fool!” A man shouted to my right.
Zaivareth’s hand clamped around my waist, wrenching me backward. A Talanox snorted as it lumbered past just in front of us, nostrils flaring. The cart’s driver cursed and waved his fist at us. Those six massive hooves would have crushed me if the prince hadn’t intervened.
My back curved against the solid muscle of his chest. His arm gripped tight around my waist—just like the first time we’d met, when he’d saved me from that beast attacking from behind. Heat bloomed where his fingers splayed possessively over my stomach.
I should thank him, but a snarl tore from my throat instead. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping that Talanox from crushing you.” His hot breath ghosted against my ear.
A flutter stirred low in my belly. I wanted to lean back, melt into him.
Moon’s mercy, why did his touch scatter my thoughts like leaves in a storm?
“Fine,” I gritted out. “I’m not crushed. Now let me go.”
His hand slipped away, and I stormed off toward the city gates.
The crowd pressed in—too many bodies, too much noise, the air stifling. I had to get out. The prince followed behind without a word, like a predator stalking prey.
His contradictions twisted through my thoughts like tangled vines.
Part of me wanted him to suffer for everything he’d done. By the deep, a large part of me wanted to kill him just for being the sun prince. For everything his Kingdom had taken from me.
But another voice whispered that I hadn’t trusted Caldera at first either. Prejudice had clouded my judgment, painting her as an enemy when she’d turned out to be so much more. What if the same was true of the prince?
As we exited the city and followed the road into the forest, he fell into step beside me. My gaze slid sideways at the sharp angles of his profile.
How many times had he hurled his metal against me? Conjured it in different shapes and wielded it with lethal precision, each time fully intending to pierce it through my chest.
On the other hand, I’d flung my ice at him with equal force and every intention of killing him. But that didn’t excuse his actions; it only dragged me down to his level.
Moonlight threaded between the branches as we left the road and headed into the forest. Erion’s and Kestrel’s murmured voices reached us before their faces emerged through the underbrush.
They lounged on a fallen trunk, a small feast laid out on a blanket before them. Roasted meat, crusty bread, wedges of cheese, and clusters of forest berries filled the cloth.
Kestrel refilled his cup from a large bottle of amber liquid, the contents sloshing over the edge. He raised it toward Erion. “To mending hearts and new beginnings.”
Erion’s mouth curved into a crooked smile as he raised his cup.
A wide grin split Kestrel’s face as he spotted us. “Oh, look, the Queen of Blightlands!”
I groaned. Erion really needed to stop throwing that silly nickname around.
Erion instantly shot to his feet. “You’re back!”
I gestured at the spread of food. “What’s this?”
“Oh this?” Kestrel swept his cup in a wide arc. “Just a few generous gifts from passing travelers in exchange for a song or two.”
“They were really good songs, though.” Erion’s smile returned, genuine and unguarded.
Warmth bloomed in my chest at the sight of it. Despite everything weighing on his shoulders, joy radiated from him like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Had Kestrel done this? If so, he had a rare gift for pulling people from the depths of their misery.
Erion stepped closer, his features brightening with eager curiosity. “How did it go? Did you get in?”
I dug into my bag and pulled out the cookbook. The leather binding creaked softly as I held it toward Kestrel.
He surged to his feet, snatching it with his free hand. “You found it!” Amber liquid sloshed over the rim of his cup, but he didn’t seem to notice. His gaze darted between the book and us, eyes shining with raw emotions. “How can I ever repay you?”
Shrugging, I glanced at the prince.
The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Maybe you could cook something from that book for us sometime?”
Kestrel’s grin threatened to split his face. “I most certainly will! By the blaze, I’ll make you a feast you’ll never forget!”
Warmth unfurled in my chest at his contagious joy. Zaivareth had chosen the exact right words. No payment demanded, no debt owed—just a simple request offering Kestrel the dignity of reciprocation through something that made him truly happy.
“And the sun stone…?” Erion’s voice pulled me back. “Did you find it?”
My hand dove into the bag, fingers closing around one of the smooth stones. I held it up, letting moonlight play across its ebony surface threaded with golden veins.
Erion reached into his bag, drawing out one of the moon stones, its gleaming white surface veined with silver. The perfect opposite of its dark twin.
I extended the sun stone toward him, but he didn’t take it. His throat bobbed as his gaze flicked between them.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“It’s just… Last time I saw these together…” His voice cracked.
Stars and sea. He was probably visualizing his sister and her boyfriend dying all over again.
“I think…” The words rasped from his throat. “I think we should keep them separated for now.”
I nodded and slipped the sun stone back into my bag, while he tucked away the moon stone with trembling hands.
Kestrel had dropped back onto the trunk, turning the pages of his cookbook with reverent fingers. Zaivareth leaned against a tree, arms crossed, amber eyes fixed on Erion and me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
It would have to wait, but as soon as I was alone with Erion, I’d coax him into holding both stones together. Somehow, he needed to figure out how to wield them to seal the rift.
“There’s something else.” My throat tightened. “We found more lines of the prophecy.”
Erion’s eyes widened. “Like the ones in the Queen’s Vault of Secrets?”
I nodded and repeated the words to him. At the line about the stolen stones and failed ritual, all color drained from his face. He turned away, shoulders rigid.
Was he thinking what I first had—that this meant he’d fail to seal the rift? Or had his mind gone directly to his sister’s failed ritual?
I stepped closer, reaching out to brush his back. “Erion, I—”
“So.” His voice came out too bright, too forced. “How did you avoid the guards? Last time they swarmed us in an instant.”
A frown tugged at my brow. Something churned beneath his surface, but he clearly wanted to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Um…” I swallowed. “We, um…”
Erion glanced over his shoulder at me. “You what?”
Heat rushed through my core at the thought of Zaivareth pinning me against the wall, his breath ghosting across my skin.
My gaze flicked to the prince, and a satisfied smirk curved his lips.
I jerked my gaze back to Erion. “We had no trouble at all.”
His eyes narrowed, darting between us. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That look.” He gestured between us. “Like you’re sharing some secret.”
“What?” Blood rushed to my cheeks. “There’s no secret.”
“Fine.” Erion’s jaw clenched, voice going flat. “Don’t tell me.”
Frustration flared in my chest. “Oh, come on. We don’t have time for this. We should find somewhere to sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll need to head back to Blight—”
Metal bindings shot out of nowhere and twisted around Erion’s torso, pinning his arms to his sides. A scream ripped from his throat, raw and terrified.
At the same time, a low growl rumbled from Zaivareth as identical bindings ensnared him.
My hands flew up, reaching for any liquid source within range. But molten agony exploded across my ribs as metal coiled around my body, scorching my skin and crushing my arms to my sides.
Beside me, Kestrel toppled backward off the trunk, metal snaking around him with vicious speed. His scream mingled with mine, echoing through the forest.
One of the pirates emerged from the underbrush, a smirk twisting her features beneath her wide-brimmed hat. Another stepped out beside her, large and imposing, his face covered in scars.
The rest of the crew dropped down around us, roped from a silent mass hovering above, its dark presence almost invisible against the clouded sky.
We were surrounded, ambushed by the rotten pirates.
Zaivareth’s pirates.
Sizzling metal dug into my ribs as I fought against the bindings. But his betrayal cut deeper, cracking through my bones like ice splitting stone.
I snapped my gaze toward him, taking in his wide eyes flicking around as if he had no idea what was going on. Yeah, right—he wasn’t fooling anyone. He’d told that pirate in the wide-brimmed hat about our plans when they met in the city.
Through the searing pain, venomous rage flooded me, and I poured it all into my glare. If fury alone could kill, he’d be a bleeding heap on the ground.
Trusting him had been just as foolish as I’d suspected from the start.