Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Daemon
The sun’s rays beat down on the Court of Opal, the heat seeping through Daemon’s clothes and causing a pool of sweat to form at the base of his spine.
The only saving grace was the cool breeze that blew in from off the water.
Stripping off his leather jacket, Daemon closed his eyes and took a steadying breath as the wind cooled his skin, and Raneese guided the Nevermore into the harbor.
It had taken two days to get to Opal’s main city—Lilura—from Kalmeera, meaning there were only three days until the new moon.
Three days until the realm fell into chaos and Auraelia met her cousin on the battlefield.
And it would take two of those days for the return trip to Lyndaria.
Daemon’s grip tightened on the railing, his magic raging against the hold he kept on it. He needed to meet with Lady Aesira as soon as possible so that they could be on their way. Time was precious, and it seemed to slip through his fingers like the sand reaching as far as the eye could see.
The sound of Raneese calling out orders to their men pulled Daemon from the spiral his mind was attempting to dive into, and he scrubbed a hand down his face before running his fingers through his hair.
“Neese,” he called out. Her gaze swung away from the bustle on deck to meet his, and she closed the distance within a few strides, coming to stand by his side with an expectant look on her face.
“I need to see Aesira, but I need you to make sure that the crew is ready to go as soon as Xander and I get back.” She huffed out a sardonic laugh, curls bouncing around her as she lightly shook her head from side to side, eyes surely kissing the back of her skull with how hard she’d rolled them.
“I mean it, Neese. No one leaves the ship.”
Raneese rubbed her forefinger and thumb across her brows and released an exasperated breath, her annoyance as clear as the sky above them.
They’d had this conversation countless times over the last two days, but the pit in Daemon’s stomach was growing by the second.
He needed confirmation one more time. Needed to hear her relay it back, if only to soothe the nerves that pricked down his spine.
Letting out a resigned sigh, she said, “I know, D. As soon as I see you, we’ll pull the lines, then shove off as soon as your boots hit the deck.
I’ve got this.” Her gaze was stern, locking onto his, daring him to question her again.
When he finally let out a breath and nodded, the corner of her lips tilted upward.
“Now, go do what you need to do so that we can get you back to your girl so you can quit bugging me.”
Daemon let out an amused scoff and matched her grin with one of his own. “Bugging you, huh?”
“Absolutely. You’ve been a walking storm cloud ever since we left Lyndaria ten days ago. And have been up my ass, reminding me over and over again how today needs to go over the last two.”
“Sorry, Neese,” he said with a chuckle.
Raneese pursed her lips and shook her head, clearly fighting the smile still lingering.
“Daemon!” Xander shouted from the deck. “Let’s go!”
“Impatient bastard,” Daemon laughed.
Raneese’s laugh filled the air. “No more than you. Go on. I’ve got the ship and the crew handled.”
“You always do.” Daemon smirked, pushed away from the railing, and shadow-walked to where Xander was waiting.
They made their way down the gangplank in silence and into the bustling port where sailors and merchants scurried about, none bothering to cast them a second glance.
When they reached the end of the harbor, Daemon asked, “You want to get there the fast way or go the long way?”
“The fast way, obviously. What kind of quest—” Xander’s eyes widened, his head whipping toward Daemon. “Oh, fuck no. I saw what that did to Piper; I’m not about to let that happen to me when we’re short on time.”
Daemon couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from his throat. “You said you wanted the fast way. And as you said, we’re short on time, so…”
“Fuck. No.” Xander enunciated each word.
Shrugging, Daemon took a step back. “Suit yourself. I guess I’ll see you there.”
“Wait.” Xander let out an aggravated sigh and scrubbed both hands down his face with a groan before tilting his head to both sides. “I don’t have to hold you like my sister does, do I?” His lips pulled down into a sneer, and Daemon chuckled.
“No, that’s purely because I like the feeling of her in my arms.”
“Goddess,” Xander mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Closing the distance he’d placed between them, Daemon quirked a brow and shrugged nonchalantly. “You asked. Now, are you ready?”
“Fuck,” Xander said on a groan. “Yeah, I guess.”
Daemon placed his hand on Xander’s shoulder, and despite the limited amount of time they had and the anxiety over what was to come, he couldn’t keep the laugh from his tone as he said, “Just remember to breathe.”
“Wha—”
Xander’s words were cut off as his shadows wrapped around them. When they dissipated, Xander staggered a step but maintained his footing as he pressed two fingers into both temples.
“You alright?” Daemon asked, his brows raised as he watched Xander work through the effects of shadow-walking for the first time.
“How in the goddess does Auraelia put up with that?” Xander groaned, dropping his hands to his knees as he drew in long, steady breaths.
Chuckling, Daemon slapped him on the back. “Deep breaths, Xander. We’re here.”
Standing upright once more, Xander’s cheeks puffed out as he expelled a stream of air through pursed lips. “Let’s go.”
Guards stood like statues on either side of the arch, which served as the only entrance and exit into the Court of Opal’s military compound. They nodded toward Daemon, acknowledging his presence and letting him know they could enter with a simple drop of their chins.
As they stepped under the arch, Xander’s sharp intake of breath was audible, and Daemon cut him a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Never been here before?”
“No. Not once.” His eyes were wide as he took in the sights around him, and it reminded Daemon of the first time he’d seen the home of the greatest warriors in Ixora.
The Court of Opal wasn’t like the other courts.
They didn’t have grand manors or extravagant castles.
They built the home for the head of their court in the center of their training facility.
It was like a city within a city; the only thing separating it from the rest of the population was the barely six-foot-tall wall erected around it.
Buildings of all shapes and sizes were lined in neat rows, each of them set apart by the personal touches added by their inhabitants.
Canopies of the richest purples and brightest blues extended out over doorways, and plants dotted a few of the windowsills.
Towering trees created little, shaded oases amidst the copper-colored sand that coated the ground.
Lush green grass sprouted around their trunks but didn’t dare to grow beyond the shade the tree provided.
As they made their way through the compound, the sound of warriors training reached Daemon’s ears.
Mixed in with the sound of swords crashing together was the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh.
And as the training field came into view—which was more sand than it was field—Xander halted in his tracks, eyes roving over the sight in front of them.
“I knew they were well trained, but I never expected this.” Xander gestured to the scene in front of them and let out a low whistle. “If his skills were solely the byproduct of being a member of the academy here, it’s no wonder my mother wanted Ser Aeron to train Auraelia and me.”
The pitch was sectioned off into four different areas: sparring, weapon and combat training, physical training—which included an obstacle course—and finally, magic-wielding.
“I’m pretty sure that Ser Aeron still holds the ‘greatest warrior in all of Ixora’ title, even after all of these years,” Daemon said with reverence.
He had immense respect for Emerald’s Army Commander, especially after seeing the way Auraelia handled herself in training all those months ago.
Ser Aeron didn’t treat her like a fragile flower; he seemed to treat her like any other warrior, which would come in handy in the coming days.
Xander began rattling off different observations he’d made, but his words faded into the background as the hairs on the back of Daemon’s neck stood on end, his shadows swirling, seeming to sense something he couldn’t.
“I take great offense to that statement, Prince Daemon. Shall we see how you fair against me in the ring?” The voice was warm and smoother than silk, but there was an underlying deadliness to it that Daemon recognized immediately.
Lady Iridessa.
Seeming to come to the same conclusion, Xander smirked, rolling his eyes as he shook his head and turned around. “Dessa, I wouldn’t enter the ring with you if both of your hands were tied behind your back and you were blindfolded. And that was before you went through the Warrior Academy.”
A menacing smile tugged on her lips, her eyes sparkling with a mischief that reminded him of Auraelia. “It’s Inara’s Warrior Academy, and I didn’t ask you; I asked him.” She tilted her head in Daemon’s direction, her grin growing as she raked her eyes down his frame.
“Don’t even think about it, Daemon. She doesn’t fight fair.”
Iridessa scoffed, her hand flying to her chest in feigned innocence. “I do, too.” When Xander raised his brows in challenge, she narrowed her eyes. “It was one time, Xander. And long enough ago that you should have gotten over it by now.”
“Once was enough.”
Daemon’s gaze shifted between them, a singular brow arched as he attempted to follow their conversation.
Seeming to notice his confusion, Iridessa turned his way with an exasperated sigh. “When we were kids, Xander and I got into a…scuffle.”