33. CHAPTER 33
Sorin
At Emrys’s announcement, I immediately prepared for flight toward Southgate. I would be damned if I allowed Myrosian spies to step foot in my kingdom. King Mavros had given us his blessing, and Emrys, Valerian, and I had taken flight at once.
It had been only a matter of moments since I had been standing before the throne, begging for the freedom to choose my fated over an alliance. My mind was still reeling as I jumped off the balcony with my brothers in tow.
No one was faster than a dragon.
We could make it to Southgate in a matter of hours, where it would take days for an army.
It was easier to communicate in our dragon forms, though sometimes our thoughts came streaming down the bond all at once, muddling together.
It was imperative that we stayed in control in order to communicate effectively.
There had been no time to call on the Shadowed Order—and it likely wasn’t necessary, either.
Three dragons could easily take down a dozen men.
There was no need for a battalion.
The wind thrashed against us as we soared over Thornveil, the air current hindering our progress. I had to beat my wings harder and faster to keep altitude where I typically could allow the airstream to take me, easing the brunt of the work.
A quick glance to my left and right told me that Emrys was right on my tail, Valerian struggling to keep up.
We were all accustomed to flying distances, but Valerian didn’t have the same speed.
The same stamina. His small, copper dragon form was not as powerful as ours. Not as agile. He needed to train more.
He swished his arrowhead tail in agitation.
I hadn’t meant to send the thought down the bond, but it was like that sometimes. When we were in our dragon forms, we weren’t only in our own heads. We were in each other’s.
Emrys groaned as I turned back, focusing my attention on Southgate.
With my enhanced vision, I could see it now: the small coastal town visible beneath the thick cloud cover.
The air was filled with the taste of an approaching storm.
Another few hours and we would have been battling the rain and the lightning as we journeyed south.
Your scouts saw how many men? I asked Emrys down the bond.
He cut a sidelong glance toward me as he pulled up next to me, his crimson wings too close for comfort. Emrys always wanted to test my limits.
Damn him.
Thirteen men, not including Vash. He replied.
And you’re certain Vash didn’t bring these men back as prisoners? I asked.
I can’t be certain of anything without having seen it myself, but the scout said the men were not in chains. They were heavily disguised in a tavern—having just made the crossing. Smart of him not to come straight through Scaldrithor if his allegiance truly has changed, Emrys replied.
That earned my grunt of approval.
Vash’s reputation was notorious in Scaldrithor. It’s true—it didn’t make sense for him to journey further south only to land on Gothryn soil if his aim was to reconvene with us at the castle. He certainly went out of his way for a reason.
And you trust this scout? I asked down the bond.
Just because he isn’t yours doesn’t make him duplicitous. I have my own spies, Sorin. I, too, am a prince of Blackwater. Or has your arrogance allowed you to forget?
Enough! I roared loudly enough through his mind that he flinched back, his crimson wings disappearing from sight for a moment as he fought to regain his composure. You will not speak to me that way!
Or what, Brother? I could hear the sinister edge despite the words not being spoken aloud.
I didn’t have time for this right now. I would put Emrys in his place once the threat in Southgate had been neutralized.
I glared at him as my only warning. I curled my taloned claws in preparation as I dove toward him, my horns knocking against his.
I was bigger than him in this form. More formidable.
He was a fool to threaten me when my anger was already tightly wound and barely leashed.
His scaled body plunged beneath the weight of my hit, a cry escaping his throat as he dropped in altitude.
I will hear no more of it until we return from Southgate, I said.
Valerian remained quiet behind us. He knew better than to insert himself into our conflict. The last century by our sides had taught him that much.
Southgate drew closer as the winds churned, clouds growing dense and dark as they collected water droplets. The storm was building faster than I had anticipated. I stilled my wings, allowing my body to drop beneath the cloud cover as the density in the air thickened.
Emrys and Valerian followed suit quietly.
I dropped further, circling over the city center as I formulated a plan.
Emrys had reported that Vash and his men were last seen at a tavern north of the docks.
They had likely come into port and immediately searched for lodging and a hot meal for the night.
It was still early in the day, though I couldn’t use the sun to determine exactly how long Vash had decided to linger in Southgate.
If they were smart, they would have already made for the Gothryn Palace. They would already be on the road.
But Vash had his vices.
He would have wanted to fill his belly and find a companion to warm his bed for at least a few hours before the next leg of his journey.
As we descended close enough to be spotted in the skies above, I switched to my human form. Emrys and Valerian did the same. Even with wings at our backs, we were far less conspicuous this way. It was no strange sight to see a dragon airborne in Gothryn, but I didn’t want to announce our arrival.
As Vireth, we were merely a spot among the clouds until we drew close enough to land. The cloud cover only added to our anonymity. We could easily be mistaken for a large bird from a distance.
I landed atop the clock tower, my wings batting quietly at my sides to slow my descent. Emrys and Valerian joined me, and we quickly descended the curved steps toward the ground level.
“You think they remain at the Gilded Ember? Filling their cups and enjoying the women Southgate has to offer?” Emrys called from the staircase behind me.
I nodded. “I do. You know Vash as well as I do. There is no way he would journey across the sea and not seek a little comfort on the other end.”
“Unless they took to the Faetide,” Valerian spoke for the first time. “Our spies did not see them at the Majur dockyards. A group as big as theirs would have been spotted. It is entirely possible they went through Lysvarin to take the long way around. To avoid being seen.”
I grunted. “Which would mean they have been traveling for weeks. All the more reason for them to stay put for more than a single night.”
Emrys hummed in agreement.
The Gilded Ember was north of the watchtower.
We turned left toward the dockyards, filing out the door onto the cobbled streets of Southgate.
The scent of salt air was fresh on the tip of my tongue, the impending storm ruffling my hair around my barely pointed ears.
A warning prickled the back of my neck, but I did my best to ignore it.
I was always nervous before entering confrontation—it was nothing more than anxiety. Not that this would result in a skirmish, but I needed to be prepared, regardless. This could dissolve into a fight easily if Vash wouldn’t come with us willingly.
Though Vash was a powerful Vireth…he was no dragon. He stood no chance against us.
The citizens of Southgate recognized us, whispers following us as we descended toward the Gilded Ember. The way we were storming through the city streets, they were practically diving out of our way. They wanted to know why all three Blackwater princes had shown up in force.
I stopped for a moment before the heavy door to the tavern. My brows were drawn in the reflection of the antique glass of the entry, my hair tousled beyond any aid I could offer it.
With a deep inhale I pushed the door inward, only to find the tavern mostly empty.
It had to be before noon, so that wasn’t terribly surprising.
I nodded at the bartender who dropped the glass he was polishing.
It cracked into a thousand shards against the worn wooden floorboards as he stared at us, mouth ajar.
“To what do we owe the pleasure of the esteemed Blackwater princes?” he asked, quickly regaining his composure.
He moved toward the front of the bar, ignoring the broken glass in favor of serving us.
“We are searching for someone. He is with a dozen or so men. He was here last night. About yay high.” I motioned with my hand that Vash was a solid head shorter than me. “Clean shaven, though he might not be at this point. Red hair. Crooked nose. Loud.”
“Ah! Yes, he was here last night. Though he does sport a rather unruly beard these days. I think they called him Ash? Bash?”
“Where is he?” I asked, patience wearing dangerously thin.
He had dared to turncoat and still show his face on Gothryn soil. He would pay dearly.
The barkeep nodded toward the spiral staircase at the back of the bar. “Too drunk to make it out of here last night, I’ll tell you that much. We only had the three rooms left. They are all piled up in there. Yvette can tell you which ones.”
“No need,” I told him. “Thank you.”
We would scent him out.
“My pleasure! Anything for the legendary brothers of Blackwater!” he called at our retreating backs. “Come back for a pint when you’re done!”
Yvette didn’t as much as glance up from her reservation book as we passed, ascending the staircase two steps at a time. When we reached the landing, I could scent him immediately. Grass and sand…with a hint of lavender mixed in.
I wasted no time bursting into the third room on the left, my hand poised on the broadsword that hung at my side. The door came apart easily beneath my foot. The man in the bed didn’t so much as startle at my intrusion.
Drunk, indeed.
Maybe even dead.
“Wake up,” I growled, approaching the bed.
The man had his hood pulled over his face, his body turned away from us toward the single window on the far wall. The shades were drawn.
I grasped the cloak at the necktie, turning him over not-so-gently. The cloak reeked of Vash. I yanked him into a sitting position by the clasp, pushing the hood back to reveal his face.
Except the man before me wasn’t Vash at all.
He didn’t resemble Vash in the slightest.
Dread pooled low in my gut as my magic surged forward. My head snapped back to the doorway to meet Emrys and Valerian’s gazes. They were gone in an instant, checking the other rooms.
The silence that ensued while I waited for them to return was suffocating. Only a moment later they were back in the doorframe, shaking their heads.
“Vash isn’t here,” Valerian declared.
I released the clasp, and the man fell back against the bed, a groan of irritation escaping him as he turned back onto his side.
“This cloak reeks of him! Where is he?”
Emrys’s mouth pulled into a thin line. I pushed past them both, checking the other rooms for myself. There was only one barely conscious man to be found among the group. Half of them were certainly Veytari, and there was reason to believe they had, indeed, traveled from Myros.
“Where is he?” I asked the man, shaking him back and forth to rouse him. “Where is Vash?”
“Vash?” the man asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Yes. I smell him all over you.” I jabbed my finger at his chest.
“Don’t know who this ‘Vash’ is. We were paid fifty pieces to wear these clothes and travel to Southgate. They even gave us coin for the ale and the women! Best deal I’ll ever come by, if you ask me.”
“Who? Who paid you?” I roared.
The man was too hungover to even flinch. To even recognize he was in the presence of the crown prince of Blackwater and could be turned into a piece of ash in a mere heartbeat.
The man simply shrugged. “Never seen him before.”
When I released him, he fell to the floor with a resounding thud.
“Godsdammit!” I bellowed, silently cursing the god of the tides, Inachus, for allowing them safe passage across the sea. Though if the acolytes were to be believed, the old god had no control over the water any longer.
The age of the gods was long over, after all.
A muscle ticked in my jaw as I turned on Emrys.
“Where is your scout?” I asked through clenched teeth.
Emrys had the good sense to shrink back, remaining silent.
“That’s what I thought. Godsdammit, Emrys.” I scrubbed a hand down my stubble, the full weight of the situation settling on me.
These men had been paid to cross the Saltale Sea. Paid to come to Southgate and linger at this tavern. Paid to wear these clothes specifically. Clothes that would identify them as Myrosian spies. Clothes that would indicate Vash had returned, but had formed another alliance.
Had they killed Emrys’s scout and sent a message in his place? Tortured him and forced him to send the message himself?
They had to have known what would happen. That the sighting of Myrosian spies on Gothryn soil would be dealt with silently and swiftly. That we wouldn’t waste any time sending an army under Rensford’s watch to march against a mere dozen men.
They knew that we would send dragons.
And the only dragons who resided at the castle were the princes of Blackwater and the king himself. They had counted on the fact that we wouldn’t have had time to summon the Shadowed Order. That there would be no other dragons at our back.
Realization hit Emrys and Valerian at the same time—Valerian’s complexion quickly turning pale green. I thought he might truly be sick. He needed to learn to stomach betrayal worse than this if he was going to serve the crown.
We had been lured from the castle to leave it undefended.
Us, specifically.
It had been a trap.