Chapter 4 Prince Sloth #2
“Peaches. Don’t you remember? I thought we bonded.”
I coolly stared at her.
Her mood was cheerful despite the chaos we’d survived.
I couldn’t decide if I was slightly impressed or worried about her mental state again.
I settled on annoyance. I never trusted an optimist.
And I certainly didn’t trust this woman.
After a minute of strained silence, she leveled me with the same cold look I was giving her.
I didn’t acknowledge it at all, which made her mood darken.
I swore shadows flickered in her eyes before she blinked them away.
My hallucinations weren’t quite under control yet.
I focused on breathing in and out steadily.
My healing abilities had been working hard to restore me, and it wouldn’t be much longer before I was completely healed.
I’d give myself two more minutes, then get the portal stone from her and head out to start tracking Xavier and the Liber Noctem.
“How long was I out for?”
“An hour or so.” She dragged her gaze from my tattoo to my face. “If you’re worried about your virtue, I only took your tunic off to clean your wound. I also disinfected it with some alcohol I found in the cabinet. You thrashed pretty good, so I assume it helped.”
I arched a brow at the radiant smile that crossed her face when she mentioned thrashing but said nothing.
She was like the sun, having a bright disposition, but still capable of a violent burn. Lust would already be in love. But that wouldn’t be surprising; he had no common sense.
That strange feeling of discomfort reared its head again. I didn’t think it had anything to do with her, but after Xavier’s betrayal, I wasn’t sure.
My senses were alerting me to some unseen danger.
I scanned the small single-room cabin.
One cot, two chairs, a table, and an overly large fireplace. Along the far wall sat a wooden cabinet filled with jars.
Herbs, dried meat, beans. A small stack of plates and utensils.
A chamber pot, washbasin, and screen were stashed in the opposite corner. An impressive collection of axes hung near the door.
Rain softly pattered against the tin roof; the storm we’d arrived in hadn’t blown over yet.
I finally recalled that there had been another woman at some point.
“Where are we?”
“Some nice woman named Jessa Maya’s cabin. She’s out gathering supplies for a poultice. Not that you asked. Or seem to need one. Your wound is healing remarkably fast. Almost like you’re not human.”
Her dark gaze bore into mine, unflinching and sharp.
There were no shadows this time, and her expression was easy enough to read because I suspected she wanted me to know how she felt.
She didn’t trust me and knew I had secrets of my own.
If she thought I would confirm her suspicions and give her any information she could use against me, she would be disappointed.
I only needed to figure out if she was also searching for the Liber Noctem, then come up with a way to convince her to hand over the portal stone and return to her kingdom.
She sighed when I offered no information.
“My name is Lore.”
I surveyed her. “Lore’s an unusual name.”
She shrugged and got up, grabbing a chipped mug from the side table and offering it to me. “Jessa Maya said to give you this when you woke up.”
It smelled like an old carcass.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was poisoned.
Lore’s lips twitched like she knew what I was thinking, and it gave her a dark sort of glee to inflict the sludge on me.
I held the steaming contents but refrained from sipping it. I’d need to be dragged and dumped at the gates of the Great Beyond before I ingested it. Even then true death might be preferable.
“Are you going to tell me your name or keep me in suspense?”
I gave her a slow, wicked smile in response.
Princes of Sin guarded our true names with savagery. They granted someone power to summon us, among other inconveniences and potential threats. I saw no reason to share that information with her now. Or ever.
Instead of glowering or making demands of me, a spark of challenge flared in her eyes.
Gods only knew what she was plotting.
“Why did you bring us here?” I asked.
She arched an impertinent brow but said nothing. Frustrating woman.
We sat in silence, analyzing each other.
As the thick fog of venom slowly dissipated, more memories came back.
Shadows streaming out from Lore, the odd folding in of the world around us, the embers I swore I’d seen in her eyes. Ending up in a seemingly different part of this realm within moments.
“You used the portal stone again?” I asked, watching her closely.
“Portal stone?” She gave me a blank look. “Oh! You mean this?”
Lore stuck her hand into her skirt pocket and pulled the stone out, holding it up for me to inspect.
I hadn’t gotten a good look at it before and swallowed thickly.
A smooth onyx teardrop lay flat in her palm.
Chills raced along my spine.
I’d never seen it in person, only illustrations and sketches, but I’d recognize it anywhere.
I’d been searching for it for as long as I’d been hunting the book.
That wasn’t a portal stone. It was a phoenix tear. And it had once come from the cover of the Liber Noctem.
Myths suggested the first, and most powerful, phoenix had lost her mate and flew across the realm of the old gods, leaving a trail of tears.
All but one exploded upon contact with the terrain.
But the Goddess of Night herself had caught the final tear in her palm and cradled it close, grieving along with her friend.
By all accounts, the original phoenix was never seen again, and when it left the realm of the old gods, the few remaining of its kind disappeared too.
Some claimed the old gods had captured the original phoenix to further their wicked plots, and others swore the ancient birds traveled to a new dimension, one where all manner of mythical creatures ruled the land.
I hadn’t found such a place, but the universe was vast and complex and not even I dared to believe I knew all the secrets she held.
Legend claimed that the Goddess of Night mourned the loss of her favorite companion so much, she’d turned her back on dreams, focusing only on nightmares from that day forward.
Without any shift in my expression, I let my magic flow out, subtly testing the woman sitting beside the bed.
If she knew the full potential of the phoenix tear she held, all my strategies needed to be reworked. And if—gods forbid—she was a creature who could access that potential, we were already in far deeper than even I could have accounted for.
I didn’t sense any magic in Lore, but my tension didn’t ease. It was possible she was shielding her power from me.
It certainly made me more suspicious about who she really was. It also forced me to consider the possibility that she’d plotted with Xavier.
There were no such things as coincidences. And the fact that the Liber Noctem and the phoenix tear were both found in the same small village on the Shifting Isles where she was set me further on edge.
This had the makings of a plot that had been in play for a long time.
Xavier was smart. He knew all the legends as well as I did.
Which meant he also knew the missing link that could damn us all.
He had the book, the phoenix tear was in play, and if he was attempting what I believed he was, then all he’d need was a dreamweaver.
I worked to keep my reaction from my face.
Little had been written about dreamweavers, but I’d collected just enough to understand they were world-builders beyond compare, descendants of the old gods. And if Lore was a dreamweaver in possession of the phoenix tear, then I needed to get them both out of Somnia as soon as possible.
My heart thudded against my chest.
That growing sense of unease was back and was getting more insistent than it had been before.
My magic had definitely sensed the threat.
The very one that leaned closer, her brows pinching together as she studied me with the same intensity I’d been aiming at her.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I scanned her features. I didn’t detect any false notes in her tone or expression, but that didn’t mean anything.
“What exactly do you do in Bellington?”
She frowned. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
I didn’t think she’d answer, but it had been worth a try.
I jerked my chin at the phoenix tear, my cool mask of indifference sliding into place.
“Give me the stone; I’ll bring us back to Bellington.”
Something unreadable flashed in her face, her hand tightening on the stone. It happened swiftly, but I’d been watching for her reaction.
Lore didn’t want to give up the phoenix tear.
Even if handing it over meant she’d safely go back home to her family and world.
It wasn’t the reaction most would have when given an easy option.
Either she knew what it was or she was suspicious of my motives.
Neither of those options was good.
Xavier’s treachery might be far more damning than I’d originally thought. If he’d managed to not only smuggle the book into this realm, but get a dreamweaver here as well, that meant one thing.
He wanted to enact the Trials of Unbinding.
Avoiding them was one of the reasons I’d hoped to lock the Liber Noctem away in my collection.
I studied Lore like I would any potential adversary. She could be far more dangerous than I’d originally thought.
“If you want to transport us yourself, then by all means.” I held my hand out, palm up. “Let’s get back to your realm.”