Chapter 16
ALARYK
The sharp rap of knuckles on the door sounded just as I was pulling on my boots. I heard a quick retreat of steps down the stairs to my dwelling, and my lips twitched in knowing.
When I pulled open the door and stepped down to meet Amaia, my brow was raised.
Her temper was spiked. That much was easy enough to discern from a mere glance.
“What have I done now, mariss?” I asked. Mariss meant ember in the Hartan language. In Karag, ember was marisha, reminding me that once, our people had been one.
She frowned at the word, and I wondered for a brief moment if she thought I’d forgotten her name. I didn’t correct her assumption, watching with slight amusement as her shoulders tightened even more.
Amaia glanced around the quiet village. Even though the moon had long risen and there wasn’t a soul in sight, she was nervous people might see her, standing at my dwelling, alone with me, in the dead of night.
I wondered if I should be offended or not. But I ended up settling on intrigued.
“You sent someone to come retrieve me at the hatchery,” she whispered. “To come to your home. I don’t want more rumors circulating.”
I descended the final step, my boots thumping against the stone road. “And what rumors are these, I wonder?”
I knew. But I wanted to see what she would say.
Her cheeks darkened. Even still, she gave me a tiny glare that made interest burn in my belly. She was even more beautiful when she was angry…and truthfully, I was more relieved to see that she’d regained her strength enough to exhibit her temper.
Amaia said, “You know exactly what I’m speaking of. I will not be made into some Dakkari concubine with the only desire to join…your…your…your harem!”
“My…harem,” I repeated slowly. Why did I get such a strange thrill watching her bristle? “A shame. I’ve always loved variety.”
The words nearly made her eyes bug out of her head. I chided myself, however. It wouldn’t benefit either of us if she decided she disliked me. While it was entertaining to push and prod and tease, it was a passing amusement when there was something much bigger at stake.
Samryn had had more energy these last two days than I’d seen in months. And it only made me realize how much pain he’d been shielding from me. I didn’t dare hope. Not yet.
But Amaia was a blessing to both of us. I needed to remember that so I didn’t fuck it up with my glib tongue.
“For the record, I don’t have a harem,” I murmured, stepping closer.
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” she grumbled under her breath.
I ignored that. “Come with me.”
Her brows lowered slightly, and for a brief moment, her expression turned stricken, her face losing a bit of its color. Sudden enough to make me still.
“So soon?” she asked. “I just woke this afternoon.”
Even the realization of what she feared didn’t make me feel any better. I knew how much I asked of her. And for a price so little that it was laughable.
“I know,” I said. I’d had Tarkosh sending me missives.
I knew she’d woken today. But when I’d visited her last night in her sleeping quarters, she’d still been…
dead to the world. I didn’t know how long I’d stayed at her bedside, watching the rise and fall of her breath.
But it had been the only thing to keep me grounded. “Not tonight. When you are ready.”
The bright relief in her eyes made discontent roil in my chest.
“I wanted to try something tonight,” I informed her. “But I’m not sure if you’ll like it. Or if you’ll think that it’s breaking our agreement.”
Her expression turned suspicious. She was silent for a long moment before she surprised me by simply saying, “Lead the way, Karath.”
I made a sound in the back of my throat but turned toward Ny’am Mountain, situated toward the back of Grymia’s village. My own dwelling was nearer to it than the hatchery.
An Elthika—one I couldn’t make out, though I knew it wasn’t Samryn—flew overhead, crashing into the mountain side, taloned claws latching onto the stone. High above, it disappeared into one of the inlets, rubbed smooth and wide by centuries of consistent Elthikan scales.
“It’s hard to imagine the mountain can hold them all in,” came Amaia’s soft comment, eyeing the same thing, “now that I’ve seen them up close.”
“Ny’am is vast,” I told her as she fell into step beside me. “The mountain extends for miles eastward. This is just the western face. The Elthika have their own tunnels inside. Bonded pairings have their own nests. You’d be surprised by what the mountains can hold.”
She went quiet, even reaching out to touch the rocky face as we neared.
I led her along the face of the mountain, walking for long moments in quiet as the moon drifted over the sky.
Finally I saw the entrance I sought, hidden by overgrowth of the forest that directly abutted it, making borders around Grymia.
Her expression was trepidatious when she saw the opening, but she said nothing.
The entrance was littered with rotting leaves and dead vines. A striped rodent scurried out with a squeak when we stepped inside the mouth.
I led her down a long tunnel, but halfway, I heard her say, “Alaryk, I can’t see anything.”
Were Dakkari senses so dulled she couldn’t see in the dark? I wondered, frowning. But then I remembered—she had human blood. Human senses, I’d heard, were noticeably…disadvantaged.
“Wait,” she said.
Then a glow of red light filled the tunnel. Dull but enough that she blinked up at me, like she was seeing me for the first time. She smiled. The light was coming from a pendant around her neck, and I watched as she rubbed the gem there with her thumb.
Even still, it wasn’t enough light to illuminate more than a couple feet in front of her, so I took her hand in my own and guided her through the maze of darkness looming before us.
Her hand was soft in my own. Small, but she gripped mine tight. When we reached the worn stone stairs, descending even further, that was when her hand spasmed in my own.
Looking over my shoulder, I asked, “Frightened?”
My voice seemed to echo against the walls of the tunnels. Her chin lifted. “Nik.”
My lips twitched. No in Dakkari. She might deny it, but I saw her hesitation.
“Afraid of the darkness?” I asked as we started to descend.
“Afraid of…being enclosed. Caged in with nowhere to go,” she answered quietly.
“It’s only a little while more. You’ll see,” I told her, hoping the words brought her comfort. “You won’t feel caged down there—I promise you.”
Her small hand tightened in my own, and I made quick work of the stairs. Amaia tripped on one of the last steps, the edge more worn and slippery than the others, and she crashed into my back. I wedged myself against the wall, catching her before she could stumble again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, giving me an uncertain, shaken smile.
I nodded, righting her, my hand lingering on her waist to make sure she was steady. The curve of her hip was generous and soft. She was so close, I could smell her warmth. My hand curled into her flesh before I remembered myself and released her.
When we reached the bottom of the steps, there was a curved archway before us. Beyond that…moonlight.
Amaia dropped the gem pressed between her fingertips, the red glow fading in the presence of the silver light. I let her surpass me as she went to peer into the cavern.
“What…” she breathed before turning to me with wide eyes. “What is this place?”
I looked beyond her, stepping out onto the half-sunken ledge of stone at the entrance of the room. A whisper of a touch glanced across my skin, and my neck prickled, feeling a sense of icy stillness here. It was why I’d brought her here specifically.
“The Arsadia used to be inhabited by an ancient people. One who lived in peace with the Elthika…until they didn’t. Until war drove them from the land, across the sea, to Karak.”
“I thought this was Karak,” she said softly.
“This is the Arsadia,” I corrected. “It’s an island, albeit vast. It’s Elthikan domain.
Karak is cleaved into two by the sea. The Arsadia is in the middle of it all.
It’s said to be where Mokag, the first Elthika, once lived.
Here, where he first cried and each tear that landed on the earth grew a thalara tree, laden with heartstones. ”
Her eyes roved around the cavernous room. Water was trickling down from a small waterfall at the north end, filling the bottom at a constant rate, though there was an outlet along the east wall, which I knew was the source of a wide stream that cut through the forest outside.
Overhead, there was an opening in the side of the mountain, despite how deep we were, showing bright stars and a large moon.
On this side, it was shallower than the western side, no upper caverns overhead.
What this place had been used for, I wasn’t certain.
But I thought it’d been chosen because of how it opened to the sky.
Perhaps, once, it had even been used as an Elthika’s nest.
Stone walkways and bridges had been constructed over the lake that flooded the bottom of the room.
Amaia stepped from the ledge onto one of the walkways, which wrapped all the way to the center before shooting off to various points of the room.
To different tunnels, different staircases, all of which I’d already explored. Most had been caved in.
She crouched to look down into the water. It wasn’t a steep drop. If she waded in, it would likely only come up to her waist. The moonlight reflected off the surface, and I peered down as she inspected her face in the water.
“It feels…” She trailed off, but the frown on her expression was puzzled. She stood.
“What do you feel?” I asked, curious.
“It feels strange here,” she decided on, looking around. “Like…something is waiting. But it’s not threatening. It feels…good. Welcoming.”
I inclined my head, drawing her away from the crumbling edge of the stone walkway.