Chapter 42
I am really, really tired of people pressing blades against my throat.
Almost as if my attacker can hear my thoughts, the arrow kissing my neck is replaced with a fist wreathed in fire. Heat blooms against my skin.
That’s not much better.
“Don’t move,” a heavily accented voice growls in my ear.
The male’s other hand clamps around my upper arm, fingers digging in with bruising strength.
I don’t know if it’s the complete and utter exhaustion left behind by my recent battle with Darius’s curse, or if I’m simply done with finding myself one breath away from death, but something in me snaps.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I hiss.
His grip tightens. “Careful, girl.”
I try to turn my head to catch a glimpse of him, but the blaze flickers closer.
I jerk away, my back slamming into my captor’s chest. Cool leather brushes my bare shoulder. I drop my gaze, catching the edge of his trousers and polished boots. He’s dressed like the fallen pirates littering the beach.
A snarl vibrates through his chest.
“Stay where you are,” he shouts.
Darius and Silas halt at the very edge of the dock. Anders stands farther down, closer to the bobbing boat, his gaze darting from the Shadow Fae to me. His lips press into a thin line.
Darius breaks the silence. “Release her.”
Shadows writhe around his hands, not as solid as Rian’s, but undeniably more substantial than Silas’s. They coil and pulse like living things.
My captor’s grip tightens. The darkness nestled in my chest bristles.
“Sorry, chaps,” the pirate says. “But this one comes with us.”
Darius snarls. “Over my dead—”
The soft thrum of a bowstring kisses my eardrums.
An arrow bursts from the cliffs and slams into Darius’s shoulder.
“NO!” I scream.
Darius stumbles back and falls into the water.
A wall of fire erupts between me and the dock, heat roaring, blocking my vision.
“Let’s get out of here!” my captor shouts.
The blaze at my throat never wavers as I’m dragged away from the beach.
An unpaved path appears beneath my feet. My single-sandaled foot slips. My bare skin screams as it strikes the rough stone, tearing.
The male doesn’t slow.
Movement flickers at the edge of my vision.
Two more males emerge from the shadows, dressed in the same pirate garb, slender bows raised. The arrows are tipped with metal that gleams wrong in the firelight at my throat.
Astlerium.
My gut clenches.
“Is that her?” one of them asks.
His hair is tied back with a strip of cloth, tapered ears fully visible.
“It has to be.” My captor huffs, jerking my arm up when my steps falter.
My shoulder joint twinges in protest.
“Mrs. Mayor explicitly said our target was ‘the only blonde harlot in Virendrell.’”
I choke on my next breath.
Helen?
Helen is behind this?
A sick feeling unfurls in my stomach as every interaction with the mayor’s wife twists into something sharp and evil.
But why?
What did I do to her?
The grip on my arm never loosens as my captor yanks me down the path, flanked by the two armed pirates, their heads swiveling as we move toward a city glowing with fire.
A chill skates down my spine as a cold breeze rolls in from the sea. I shiver, my toga still damp from when Anders threw me into the tide.
It isn’t long before screams reach us, accompanied by the clash of steel and the cries of agony.
My lungs seize, but I force a breath in through my nose.
I will be okay.
Fire won’t keep the Shadow Fae back for long. Darius will recover. Anders and Silas will come for me.
I just have to endure whatever comes next.
A lump swells in my throat. Swallowing hurts. The skin there is tender, scorched where flames brushed too close.
My bare foot throbs, blood slick between my toes.
“What’s wrong with her?” one archer mutters, eyeing me.
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” another snaps. “Just get her on the ship so we can end this fucking nightmare.”
That is the last thing I want to happen.
We reach a pair of city gates that are nearly as tall as the white sea wall but thinner. As if Virendrell never imagined an enemy would invade from the land.
Torches blaze along the top of the wall, but there’s no unruly fire here. The metal gates are lifted, welcoming us inside without resistance.
Buildings sit dark and shuttered, businesses closed for the night. Everything appears calm.
Then we turn the corner.
The city opens before me, angling down, and the pristine streets I once marveled at now run red.
Men and women clash with pirates, wielding daggers, swords, and magic. Fires rage on rooftops. Screams punctuate the air in a relentless rhythm.
But despite the chaos, despite the blood and destruction, the Virendrellians outnumber the invaders.
The pirates are losing.
“Fuck!” one archer bellows, already drawing back his bow.
The arrow sings through the air before I can shout a warning.
The metal glints in the firelight then buries itself in a man’s throat. His sword clatters to the ground as he claws at the wound.
The pirate he was fighting drives a bolt of ice through his stomach before spinning away to engage another Virendrellian.
“Stop, Steinn,” my captor barks, and his burning hand pulls back an inch. “Don’t lose focus. We have a mission.”
The archer, Steinn, snarls like a wounded animal with his back pressed against the wall, but he doesn't fire another arrow.
I bite my cheek until I taste blood.
None of this makes sense.
Why would Helen let pirates burn her city?
I’m pulled left before I can guess an answer.
My ankle rolls. I cry out and the hand at my throat draws back as I crash to my knees. Red stains my palms and skirt.
I barely have time to suck in a desperate breath before my captor yanks me up. Fire kisses my skin once more. I recoil with a tiny wince.
“Keep walking,” the pirate sneers in my face, “or I’ll burn you alive.”
The darkness in my chest hisses.
I clamp my mouth shut and give a shaky nod.
The fighting varies from street to street. On some, the pirates have the upper hand, but most show Virendrellians defeating their enemies. The pirates had the element of surprise, but they’ve lost that advantage.
Which begs the question, why would the pirates sign up for a fight they couldn’t possibly hope to win?
What did Helen offer them?
We near the sea wall. Flames roar overhead, heat pressing down like a suffocating cloud. Sweat slides down my temples.
“Oy! Karl!” a stocky male calls from a turret rising from the corner of the wall. “Over here!”
My captor bellows, “We’re almost there, boys! Move!”
They pick up their pace.
Pain jolts through my leg with every step. Without my magic, I feel everything—the rocks, the cuts, the raw burn of seared skin.
“Hey, Karl?” an unnamed archer says, voice slick with amusement. “Think the boss’ll mind if we have some fun first?”
My head snaps up.
He licks his lips. A gold hoop dangles from one earlobe. “She’s a pretty thing.”
“Hm,” my captor, Karl, murmurs, his fiery fist flaring closer. “Who says he has to know?”
Cold floods my veins.
I will gouge out their eyes before I let that happen.
I wrench my arm sideways.
Karl laughs, the sound scraping my cheek. “Relax, darling. We have strict orders not to touch you.”
My eyes fly to his. “Wha—”
A feminine voice cries out, “Elara!”
My heart stops.
Hali?
I whip my head to the side and spot the earth wielder immediately.
She and another woman in servant’s attire are backed against a stone building, brandishing short daggers at the four pirates closing in around them.
These pirates look…different.
Worn, dirty trousers sag beneath their stained tunics. Their shorn hair stands on end. One grins with malevolence, showcasing missing and stained teeth. He reaches down with his free hand to loosen his belt.
“Hali!” I try to pull free.
Karl’s grip remains firm.
A different pirate lunges, slashing the servant woman’s shoulder. She cries out, her weapon clattering uselessly to the ground. She’s not a trained fighter.
Hali shrieks and strikes back, but she’s outnumbered. A punch lands hard in her side.
“NO!” I shout and jerk my arm with more force.
“Stop,” Karl demands.
I don’t.
I drop my weight.
My shoulder screams, but the need to stop what’s happening eclipses the pain.
The faded remnants of the deal’s marks heat my skin.
I glance at my arms, and a gasp flies from my throat.
My veins darken beneath the surface, black spreading through my hands like ink poured into water.
My pulse stutters as something fierce awakens beneath my skin.
It’s not light or warmth, but coldness.
And it looks terrifyingly similar to Rian’s shadows.
My eyes fly to Karl’s.
He stares at my palms, mouth hanging open, then his wide eyes lock with mine. “What are—”
I slap my hands against his cheeks.
The impact jolts up my arms as black power erupts from my palms.
It surges across Karl’s face in pulsing tendrils, digging into pores, spilling into his mouth and nostrils, silencing his scream before it can leave his throat.
Wave after wave of shadow flow into his body. I don’t release him.
Not until the light leaves his eyes.
Karl hits the ground with a heavy thud. His unseeing, bloodshot eyes stare up at the smoke-filled sky.
The darkness recedes back up my arms, coiling behind my sternum, leaving behind bone-deep exhaustion that makes it hard to stand.
I stumble back a step.
What have I done?
The archers are frozen around me. Their disbelief and fury taste bitter on my tongue.
Then a guttural snarl rips from Steinn’s throat. “You bitch!”
He raises his bow, pulls back the string, and aims the arrow at my heart.
I stare down the pirate whose hands visibly tremble with rage, suppressing the gnawing sense that I just made a monumental mistake.
My light magic is depleted.
Whatever the darkness lingering within me just did to Karl, I don’t know how to repeat it.
I’m a helpless doe, staring down the hunter who is seconds away from ending my life.
And I’m too drained to run.
“Stand down, Steinn,” the second archer barks.
“She killed Karl!” Steinn snarls, drawing his bow back farther, hatred simmering in his fiery glare. “She deserves to die.”