Chapter Five
Daemon
Daemon winced as streams of sunlight danced across his face.
What the fuck?
His head throbbed, and his mouth felt full of sawdust. Pushing into a sitting position, he looked around the room.
He was still in his study, but he didn’t remember falling asleep. Didn’t remember much of the previous night if he was candid with himself.
What the hell happened last night?
He remembered Davina being there when he’d returned from Lyndaria.
Remembered drinking—too much, if the pounding in his head was any indication.
From there, it was a blur. Just flashes of memories.
Of slate-blue eyes and sensuously curved lips that had almost managed to fool him into thinking it was whom he longed for.
Of moon-white hair and snow-kissed skin as she’d climbed into his lap.
Fuck.
Daemon groaned and pressed two fingers into his throbbing temples. His head pounded with every beat of his heart. How had he let it get that far? Let her get that close to him?
He winced as he peeled his eyes open into thin slits and stood.
He made sure to move slowly so that his head wouldn’t spin.
As he took a step, the sound of paper crinkling beneath his foot stopped him in his tracks.
Looking down, he saw the letters from Auraelia scattered around the floor near his couch.
The memory of Davina throwing his failed relationship in his face barreled back into his mind.
As well as her little tidbit of information about the treaty.
He still needed to tell Auraelia. Still needed to figure out how to tell her now that she’d given her pendant back.
Daemon rubbed at his sternum, at the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the previous night’s indulgence.
Stooping down, he compiled the letters and then headed into his bedroom. He needed to wash off the feeling of Davina’s body pressing into his.
It didn’t matter that nothing happened. It didn’t matter that Auraelia seemed to no longer be interested in pursuing what was between them. He still felt like he’d betrayed her somehow.
Turning the water as hot as it would go, Daemon stepped into the streams.
The initial chill had a sobering effect, giving him a brief moment of clarity.
He couldn’t stay in Kalmeera. Not while she was there.
Thankfully, it was his turn to check in on the Priestesses.
The wind whipped against his cheeks as the Nevermore sliced through the water. It would take two days to reach Lunaria, even with the wind on their side.
Daemon stood on the quarter-deck while his captain stood at the ship’s helm.
“Any idea on how long we will be in Lunaria?” Raneese asked as she skillfully steered the ship through the waters.
Turning from where he was looking out over the crystal blue waters to lean against the rail, he crossed his ankles as he folded his arms across his chest. “Why do you ask?”
Raneese shrugged. “Just seems like it will be a longer trip than usual, I guess.”
She gave him a side-long glance before turning her gaze forward once more.
Daemon rolled his eyes and pushed away from the rail, crossing to the opposite side. The sound of rope slipping through the riggings as his crew adjusted the sails echoed through the quiet that had fallen between him and his captain.
He’d never lied to her before; there was no reason to start now.
With a heavy sigh, he gripped the edge of his ship. Letting the feel of the smooth wood beneath his palms calm him. “I can’t be there while she’s there. Can’t stand to see the way she turns my father into a cowering insect who bows to her will.”
“Is that all?”
The tone in her voice said that she already knew it wasn’t, but he blew a breath and answered anyway.
“I need to clear my head.” Daemon paused for a moment and looked out over the Cerulean Sea. The water was calm, unlike the thoughts that spiraled through his mind. “I need to recenter myself. If I don’t…” Shadows danced at his fingertips, swirling around his digits in inky ribbons.
A wary look crossed Raneese’s face as she nodded.
He didn’t need to explain. He didn’t need to bring up what had happened when they left Lyndaria. He’d never had that happen before. Never lost such control over his magic, not even when it had first manifested.
His shadows had bled out of him in waves. It was as if his entire ship had been dunked in a bottle of ink so dark that not even the light of the full moon was able to penetrate it.
Daemon shivered at the memory and pulled his magic back into himself.
The trip across the Cerulean Sea was uneventful.
They’d stopped on Malaena—the middle island—the first night to grab the supplies that the Priestesses had sent word that they needed. And so that Daemon could reassure his people that he would do everything within his power to keep them safe from Davina.
By the time they reached Lunaria the following day, it was nightfall.
The moon was high in the sky, and the stars were out in full force.
With the lines that secured the Nevermore to the dock in place, Daemon dismissed his crew…all save for Raneese.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said as they sat in the captain’s quarters. The rest of the crew were already shoreside, most likely dining at one of the small taverns in the harbor.
“What?” The word was slightly drawn out as Raneese narrowed her eyes and took a large swig from her glass.
Daemon reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, then slid it across the table to Raneese. “I need you to bring this to Lady Aesira of Opal.”
Raneese sputtered, and the rum that was still in her mouth dribbled down her chin. “Excuse me?”
Daemon shifted slightly in his seat. “I need you to bring this—” he held up the parchment and waved it around in short movements, “to Lady Aesira in Opal.”
“Don’t talk to me like a petulant child. I heard you the first time, asshole. I meant, why do you need me to bring a letter to Aesira?”
An exasperated sigh left his lips as he ran his free hand through his hair. It had gotten longer, more unkempt, but he didn’t care. “Because Auraelia returned this.”
He reached into his pocket and let the sapphire dangle between his fingers from the slender, silver chain. The glow from the lamps in the cabin danced on the deep blue surface, but his shadows were still cold.
Still lifeless.
Balling up the pendant and chain in his fist, he dropped it back into his pocket. “I need to get this information to Auraelia, but since I no longer have a direct line of communication with her, I have to find another way to do it.”
“What about Aiden?” she asked as she idly ran her finger around the lip of her glass.
Daemon shook his head. “Too obvious. And I don’t know when, or if, he’s going to have another meeting with her.”
Raneese nodded, her finger still circling the rim.
“I need this to get to her as soon as possible, Neese. Opal is far enough away from Kalmeera that it wouldn’t be the obvious choice. So while I’m here, I need you to be there. Please.”
Raneese raised her eyes to meet his. Sadness and understanding mixed with the swirls of chocolatey browns that made up her irises. After swallowing the remaining contents of her glass, she snatched the letter from his hand.
“I’ll do it. But only because you said please.”
A smile tugged at his lips as he raised his glass of whiskey to his captain.
To his friend.
As a new day broke, and Raneese and the crew pulled away from the harbor, Daemon shadow-walked to the opposite side of the island where the Moonstone Temple of the Goddess Narissa and her priestesses stood atop the highest mountain.
A sense of calm washed over him as he reached the bottom of Mount Uttara.
He’d always felt at home here. Felt at peace.
Daemon pulled on his power and shadow-walked to the highest point that magic could carry him. When he reached the base of the sanctuary, he stared up the massive expanse of steps that led into the clouds and began to climb.
Long ago, wards had been set at the base of the stairs that led to the temple. Markings that temporarily stripped people of their abilities as they climbed the nine-thousand steps that led to the mountain’s peak.
It was said that the Goddess herself placed the wards there to keep people from entering the sacred grounds unannounced. To test their mettle and their devotion.
And it was only once the final step was crossed that their magic was returned.
Daemon maintained a steady pace as he took step after step. Even though he did this every other month, sometimes multiple times during his stay, it never got any easier.
It’s no wonder the priestesses never leave the damn sanctuary.
The air thinned around him the higher he climbed, making breathing more difficult, but still, he pressed on.
It was past midday by the time he reached the top.
Despite it being winter, the islands held the warmth of summer throughout the year, and he was dripping with sweat. Even the coolness that came with the high altitude couldn’t soothe the heat of his skin.
After the first hour, he’d removed his coat. By hour two, his vest.
But by the time he reached the top, his chest was bare, and his skin glistened in the afternoon sun.
As he crossed the final step, it was as if a lead blanket had been lifted from his shoulders, and his magic flowed freely through his veins once more.
“Welcome back, Your Highness.” High Priestess Darya’s voice was as cool as a summer breeze.
Her sky-blue linen robes draped down her body and pooled on the ground at her feet, the long billowing sleeves covering the delicately tattooed hands that were laced together at her waist. Encircling her hips was a simple silver chain adorned with crystals and shells that tinkled in the breeze.
Every priestess of the Sapphire Isles wore the same robes, but what set the High Priestess apart was the circlet around her brow. It was a simple band of silver with a modest tear-shaped sapphire in the center. But, simple as it may be, it marked her as the head of this temple.