Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
I didn’t see Kaden for a week after our dinner, and I didn’t have the nerve to ask where he’d gone. Part of me was too grateful for the reprieve to question it. Another more cowardly part of me didn’t want to know.
Each day, I studied runes with Gaeldric in the morning and trained with Adriel in the afternoon. I finally mastered the rune to freeze liquids and another that could break apart solid rock, though the levitation rune still eluded me.
Each night, I dragged myself upstairs for a bath, crawled under the covers with a book from the House’s library, and ate whatever delectable fare Freydolf brought to my room.
Though I was always exhausted after my sessions with Gaeldric, I would practice fortifying my mental shields in the moments before falling asleep.
Without Kaden around to test my defenses, I had no way of knowing whether they’d gotten stronger, but I was determined that no demon would slip into my mind again.
Finally, one night, I was combing the tangles out of my still-damp hair when there was a knock at my door. I flung it open, expecting Freydolf, only to come face to face with the dark prince himself.
I took a step back, annoyed by the intrusion and acutely aware of his eyes as they raked across my bare clavicle, over my shoulders, still damp from the bath, to the outline of my nipples pressing through the thin nightdress.
My skin heated under his gaze, but I clenched my arms at my sides, refusing to cover myself just because he’d shown up at my door when I’d been expecting to spend the rest of the evening relaxing in relative privacy.
“I hear you’re progressing,” he said by way of greeting. And though his eyes continued to drink in the sight of me, they were devoid of their usual mischief.
“Checking up on me?” I asked, a sharp edge to my voice.
I’d expected some witty retort, but Kaden merely shook his head. He seemed . . . distracted. Tired, I realized. In all my encounters with the demon prince, I’d never seen him look tired .
“No,” he said, ripping his gaze from my body. “I only came to tell you that we’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I repeated. It wasn’t as though I enjoyed being Kaden’s prisoner at the House of Perpetual Twilight, but I had grown used to the rhythm of my days here. I hadn’t expected we’d be leaving so soon.
He nodded, a muscle working in his jaw. “I had hoped for you to have more time to train with Gaeldric, but . . .” He shook his head.
“I need to make an appearance in Dorthus before we carry on with our plan. It will be a brief and dangerous detour, but it cannot be avoided. My father cannot suspect that anything is amiss, or this will all have been for nothing.”
My stomach clenched at the prospect of visiting the so- called Kingdom of Darkness. Although I’d been practicing my mental shields, I had no way of knowing if they would hold against the strongest demons.
“Isn’t that . . . a bit risky?” I asked, my mouth suddenly very dry. “Seeing how your father has had his demons hunting me?”
“No one will know who you are,” Kaden assured me. “We will cloak your magic and alter your appearance. To everyone there, you will just be one of my concubines.”
Indignation erupted inside me, and I had to resist the urge to slam the door in his face. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his plan when Adriel appeared at the top of the steps.
“I must go,” said Kaden, the strained lines around his eyes deepening. “I will meet you at the gates tomorrow morning.”
He turned to Adriel, and something passed between them in what I could only guess was a silent language born from spending centuries at each other’s side. The two of them started down the stairs, and my insides thrummed with curiosity.
What had Kaden been doing this last week that he’d been gone, and why did he look so weary?
I glanced toward the window, as if I might be able to tell what time it was by the position of the sun. But Adraeis, as usual, was bathed in unending twilight.
If I was going to accompany Kaden to Dorthus, I needed to know what he was up to — and that I wasn’t walking into a trap.
Grabbing my robe off the back of a chair, I hurried after the prince and his guard as quietly as I could. As a huntress, I could move without detection, and my bare feet made no sound on the smooth stone steps.
Down, down, down I went, straining my ears for the rumble of voices. But either they were too far ahead, or Kaden wouldn’t risk speaking where someone might overhear.
When I reached the last bend in the staircase, I paused, listening intently.
Nothing.
Undeterred, I slipped down the last few steps, looking up and down the corridor. It was deserted.
Though I had no way of knowing which way they had gone, I felt a slight tug in the direction of the courtyard.
Heart pounding, I followed that whisper of intuition through the arched doors and peered out into the sunbaked garden. Kaden and Adriel were nowhere in sight, but an odd feeling kept my feet moving across the warm clay tiles toward the gurgling fountain in the center of the courtyard.
A lilac-scented breeze ruffled my hair and made my nightdress flutter against my thighs. But when I whirled around, I found only the impassive faces of the statues staring down at me.
That breeze wafted toward me again. Not lilac , I realized, though the floral-scented perfume was achingly familiar.
My chest tightened at the memory of where I’d smelled it before, and a shiver ran down my spine.
“Lyra?”
I turned, and my heart lurched.
She sat with her legs folded in a billowing yellow dress — meditating, I realized.
Gone was the sickly pallor of death that haunted my dreams, and she bore no signs of the violence she’d suffered at Silas’s hands.
Her dark skin was almost luminescent in the fading golden light. She looked exactly as I remembered.
“Imogen?” My voice was barely a rasp. Part of me was afraid to breathe in case that simple act shook me from what had to be a dream.
“ Duh .” Her brows scrunched together in an expression so familiar that I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes.
Slowly, Imogen unfolded her legs and leaned back on the bench. “Took you long enough to find me.”
“But —” I broke off, shaking my head. Had she been here all this time?
I didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. Adraeis was a waypoint for souls that had departed the mortal world.
Maybe, on some level, I hadn’t wanted to find her here, because finding Imogen would mean having to face what I’d done.
My throat clogged with emotion as I stared at my friend, who looked as real and alive as the last time I’d seen her at her apartment. “I’m sorry,” I choked, tears welling in my eyes. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for that asshole. It isn’t your fault.”
“It is my fault. If it weren’t for me, Silas never would have had any interest in you.”
“That’s why you stayed away all those years,” she murmured. “You were protecting me.”
I nodded, tears streaming down my face. All it had taken was one screwup — one moment of weakness when I was scared and alone.
I’d led him right to her door. My only friend in the world.
“Stop,” said Imogen, her voice low and sharp. “What happened to me isn’t your fault. And anyway, it’s done. ”
“And are you . . .” I trailed off. It seemed ridiculous to ask if she was at peace.
“This place is strange,” Imogen murmured, her bright eyes taking in the courtyard with its unearthly plants and the weathered faces of the gods staring down at us. “It feels . . . wrong, somehow. But it’s peaceful here, and I’m not afraid anymore.”
Fresh tears burned in my throat. It wasn’t the same as being truly at peace — being stuck somewhere that didn’t feel like home.
Adraeis, for all its beauty, was not a place of rest. It was only ever meant to be a waypoint for traveling souls on their way to Anvalyn, and as long as Semphrys lived, Kaden would continue stealing souls like hers to feed his father’s terrible power.
Unless I found a way to end the demon king, Imogen would never find peace.
“Why are you here?” Imogen asked. “You aren’t . . .”
“No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t die. Kaden, he . . .” I licked my lips, trying to find the words. “It’s a long story.”
“And I’m so busy.” Imogen rolled her eyes, and for a moment, I was reminded of what it had been like before Silas. When we were just . . . us.
“How much do you remember about that night?”
The night she’d died.
Imogen shuddered. “Not much.”
“Well, apparently, I’m not half mortal. My mother was a witch, which makes me half huntress, half witch. A witch of the Coranthe line, to be exact.”
Imogen’s eyes widened. “But I thought . . .” She shook her head, face slack with awe. “The Coranthe line is supposed to be extinct. ”
“ Supposed to be extinct is not the same as actually being extinct.” I sighed. “Semphrys has been hunting Coranthe witches for centuries, including my mother. He wants to destroy the veil so he can gorge himself on mortal souls. And Kaden . . . He’s the demon king’s son.”
“No shit?” Imogen’s jaw dropped. “Your dark fae is actually a demon prince?” She gave a low chuckle. “Boy, you really know how to pick ’em.”
I shot her a sharp look. “In my defense, he’s half demon, half fae. He came to the Quarter looking for me. He wants me to help him kill his father so he can steal the throne and become king of Anvalyn. That’s the only way he’ll agree to take me back to the mortal world.”
“Why you?”
“Only a Coranthe witch can wield a witchwood blade.”
“Right.” She shook her head, and I could see the insanity of the situation reflected in her eyes. “Do you trust him?”
“Kaden? Fuck no.” I scoffed. “How can I trust the male who sacrificed my mother to the demon king? Someone who hid the truth of who he was? I nearly died searching for the apokropos stone, and he had it all along. He’s been stealing souls to feed Semphrys for hundreds of years.
His father’s greed is destroying the Otherworld, and I’m supposed to believe Kaden has a problem with that? ”
Imogen was watching me carefully, lips pressed together. She knew me well enough to see everything . My hurt at Kaden’s betrayal. My rage. My self-loathing.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?”
“No,” I spluttered. Gods, I hated how perceptive she was. “I mean, we came close, but then I found out —” I broke off.
What did it even matter? I’d been a fool to allow myself to be taken in by Kaden. My hunter instincts had tried to warn me, and I’d ignored them.
“Whatever you think of your prince ” — Imogen placed mocking emphasis on the honorific — “it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice but to help him kill Semphrys.”
I closed my eyes to stem the flood of tears threatening to overflow, fighting against the inevitability I’d already begun to accept. “Can’t I just stay here with you?”
“No.”
When I opened my eyes again, I was startled to see that Imogen was crying, too. “You don’t belong here, Lyra.”
“I don’t belong anywhere. Not in the Quarter. Not in Adraeis. Certainly not in Anvalyn.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “You should be used to that by now.”
I nodded, biting down so hard on the inside of my cheek that I tasted blood. I took a deep breath, my chest aching as if I’d inhaled broken glass. “Will you still be here? When I come back, I mean.”
Imogen looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap. When she spoke, her voice was soft — gentler than I ever heard it. “Lyra . . . I don’t think you’re coming back.”
At her words, an inexplicable choking terror rose in my chest. I wanted to grab her. Shake her. Demand she take the words back. “Of course I’m coming back,” I protested. “I have to get back to —”
But Imogen just shook her head, her mouth twisted in a sad smile. “I don’t think so.”
“But why . . .”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said with an attempt at lightheartedness that scared me more than anything. “We’re both orphans, right? Two ugly teacups that don’t go with the set?” She gave a bitter laugh. “We’re used to moving out and moving on.”