Chapter Thirty-Six #3
Black wax puddles onto the aged lacquer.
“I’m not risking it falling over,” she says in response to the concerned stare I give her. She plants the base of the candle in the black pool, holding it firm.
I’ll be paying for an extended trip and damages, it seems.
I heave a sigh, but nod.
Settling onto the foot of the bed, the frame creaks under my weight. Cyran remains by the door, watching Eve with an unamused stare as she climbs over the desk, careful to keep herself away from the blue flame.
She settles into the plush seat and shrugs.
“What happens if she wakes?” Cyran asks, swinging his stare in my direction.
“We hope we’re close enough to shore to swim,” Eve replies, her tone jesting, but flat.
“It shouldn’t come to anything like that,” I answer, keeping my voice low. “But I won’t deny having reservations.”
Eve cracks a smirk.
“Cyran, as soon as we break the fog, return to Ollora and let Lilith know we’re on the way,” I say and he nods once. “I’m not sure if it will do any good, but ward our quarters—establish the same wards as the stronghold. If I’m forced to contain her, I’ll contain her there.”
Again, Cyran nods.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” he says.
The office door swings open and Connak appears. He doesn’t enter the room, instead he stares at me, his face pale.
“You’ve a visitor,” he says, fighting to keep his voice from trembling. “If you’re the Sovereign King of Erus.”
Confused, I pull myself to my feet, lowering my hood and cowl. Connak, recognizing me, nods. “Glad to see you weren’t using a royal family name in a lie. But hate to be the bearer of bad news.” He swings out of the doorway, revealing the deck beyond.
Vaelyn, flanked by two fae with dark, leathery wings, offers me a smile.
“No fucking way,” Eve whispers, her eyes fixed.
“Eve, stay here,” I say over my shoulder, ducking under the low frame of the doorway. “Cyran, with me.”
“Enjoy your trip?” Vaelyn asks, the smile on his face growing obnoxious as I approach. “Cal Anore is beautiful this time of year.”
“What do you want?” I demand, and his brows fly high. “If you’re here for Eve, she’s unavailable.”
The god of death laughs. “It’s true you owe me a soul,” he says, shortening the distance between us by a few steps.
“And hers is technically mine,” he tilts his head, peering past me toward the door.
As he straightens himself he says, “But I got thinking. Things are about to get really messy for a lot of us. You and I, we can make sure that doesn’t happen. ”
Heated spikes sear through my chest and my innate sets itself on high-alert. My fingers brush against the hilt of the bloodstone dagger at my waist as I fold my arms over my chest. I’m not afraid of this god, but I am afraid of what it will do to Ves if I end him.
And it’s clear he’s afraid of something.
Why else bring two archdemons with him?
“Not interested,” I reply, my jaw tightening.
“At least hear my offer,” Vaelyn rebukes with a sly grin. “Your wife, she’s…” he glances around the ship at the onlooking crew, “changed for lack of a better term.”
“She’s as she should be,” I reply. “As she was before Netharis got his hands on her.”
“Oh, no, no, this wasn’t me.” Vaelyn shakes his head. “Or my father. She did this to herself. Even she knew she was unstable. If she is the creature she once was, she is a danger to every living soul in this realm. Give her to me, save your realm, and pay what’s due. All in one fell swoop.”
“Not interested,” I repeat in low warning. “In anything you will ever offer. I suggest you leave.”
Vaelyn sighs, but offers a sanguine grin. “You’re supposed to be the rational one. Have it your way. Ask and you shall receive.” He looks to the demon standing on his left. “You heard him. We’re to collect what I’m owed elsewhere.”
The two demons vanish in towering vortexes of hellfire, scorching the deck and lighting several ropes on fire. Connak’s voice rings out, shouting hurried orders to smother the flames.
“Remember, Ryc,” Vaelyn taunts, holding my stare with an unflinching one of his own. “You chose this.”
In a similar burst of hellfire, the god of death leaves. The flash of heat sears my cheeks.
As crew scramble about, casting swirls of water, leaping and climbing to save the riggings, an unsettling heaviness sinks into the bottom of my stomach.
I turn to Cyran. “Ferry the moment we break the fog.”
His brows crease.
“Return to Ollora,” I say. “Warn Lilith, call upon Fenryn. Protect the stronghold. I’ve an idea of what he’s after. I’ll join you in a few days’ time.”
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” Cyran replies with a swift bow. “I will protect Erus with my life.”
I’ve no doubt on the matter.
I would go. I would protect them myself.
But I cannot leave her. I will not leave her.
If Vaelyn seeks the soul of my brother, he can have him. But he cannot take anyone else.
“Connak,” I call the Captain’s name and his head swivels. “If you can cut our journey from three days to two, I’ll pay double.”
The Captain holds my stare in silence, his lips becoming a flat-pressed line for a moment before he nods. He swings his chin up, peering to the masts overhead.
“You heard the king, let’s make it happen,” he bellows.
Instead of being met with calls and whistles, he’s met with murmurs and darting gazes. A firm tug in my chest makes itself known.
Following the pull and the eyes of the sailors, I meet a silver-eyed, tear-streaked stare. As she approaches, her hands clasped over her heart, veilflower vines curl beneath her feet, spreading across the deck.
And glowing blue flowers burst open in her wake.