Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thyra
Within seconds, we’ve left the crowd behind. Then, the city.
Despite Antony’s silence, I’m certain I’m headed into danger.
What makes it worse… my fatigue is growing. It’s been hours since I had anything to eat or drink, and this physical weakness will only make me more vulnerable.
Against my will, my shoulders slump as we soar east across farmland and orchards that extend for miles until we finally approach a series of mountains.
I make out large packs of four-legged animals racing through the thick forests stretching across the mountain peaks below.
I’ve never seen anything like these animals.
They’re sleek beasts, possibly as tall as the giant eagle, but with brown fur that camouflages them against the earthy brown bark of the surrounding trees.
It looks like they have a thatch of horns on their heads, but I can’t be sure, since they run like the wind, quickly disappearing beneath the trees.
Antony doesn’t seem concerned about them, doesn’t look down or steer the blue eagle away, so I guess they aren’t a threat. Or, at least, not to him.
The more I try to sit straight, the worse my exhaustion grows, until I abandon any facade and accept my limitations. I tell myself it’s far better to rest while I can before we land.
Finally, we soar toward the highest peak and circle a white stone building nestled within the trees.
The building’s details become clearer as the eagle descends toward the clearing in front of it. Vines twine around white pillars at its front, trailing across carvings of what appear to be battle scenes etched into its stone walls.
The eagle alights gently on the lush grass while Antony’s voice sounds in my ear. “This is my family’s temple. Only those of royal blood are allowed to set foot here. You may enter only because you’re with me.”
Then, he points to the sky as if it should mean something to me. “Now that sunset is close, my mother won’t leave the city. She’s tied to the city at night, and nobody else will follow us.” His soft breathing brushes my ear. “You’re all mine.”
His declaration should frighten me, but instead it sends a tingle through my neck and back, a shot of energy that I desperately need.
A moment later, his arms scoop around my waist, and he whisks me off the eagle, slipping to the ground and placing me back on my feet.
The bubbling of nearby water immediately draws my focus.
The pillar at the temple’s far right corner has a fountain at waist-level, liquid flowing from a porcelain spout into a bowl that’s slightly elevated off ground level.
My thirst is terrible enough that the promise of hydration is maddening.
It seems Antony doesn’t want me to die of dehydration, because he hoists me up into his arms and carries me to the fountain, my head against his chest and my legs bent over his arm.
“Drink,” he orders me before he’s even put me back on the ground.
The moment my feet touch the grass, I drop to my knees, cupping my hands beneath the flowing water.
I can’t stop my groan of relief as the sweet liquid fills my mouth. Even the ruby circlet, softly clanking against the side of the bowl now that I’m kneeling, can’t dim my relief.
I sense Antony’s focus on me, but he doesn’t seem in a hurry to move me along, so I drink and drink until it feels like my stomach will burst. Possibly not a wise move, given that attending to my bodily needs will soon become a problem, but right now, I welcome the clarity of thought and revived energy the water brings me.
Finally, I lean back on my heels, listening for Antony’s next command and then, when he refrains from barking at me, the silence around us.
It’s peaceful.
A stone bench rests nearby, vines twining serenely around it and up the white pillar. In the distance, I make out soft rustling sounds, as calm as the constantly bubbling water. I imagine another herd of those creatures I saw from the air moving quietly through the underbrush, this time unhurried.
Antony hasn’t sought water or food. He certainly isn’t pushing me aside to get to the fountain. I wonder if highborn can manage for much longer without sustenance. I was certain their bodily needs were the same as a lowborn’s. Maybe he simply doesn’t want to take off his helmet again.
He stares down at me, his eyes revealing nothing.
“Inside,” he finally growls, inclining his head toward the temple’s entrance.
The archway yawns dark and foreboding ten paces away.
Somehow, the white stone entryway is pristine, not strewn with leaves or debris.
I take my time rising to my feet, fully expecting Antony to tug on the circlet to remind me of his control over me, but he doesn’t.
Despite the cold in his eyes, he seems relaxed.
Confusingly so.
I step into the shadows of the wide porch at the front of the temple, trying to see what lies within the building. It’s no use. It’s too dark inside.
My heart rises into my throat, and my stomach swirls, a fear I tell myself isn’t warranted, as I take a first step into the darkness. It’s just a temple, for fuck’s sake.
Light bursts around me the moment I pass through the opening, multiple bright orbs igniting where they’re positioned at intervals around the room.
I stop still, forgiving myself for my initial wariness now that it’s clear this place is filled with magic, and that means unseen dangers could lurk within it.
The large hall I’ve stepped into is now lit with silvery light, and its details are clear.
Statues stand around the room, three on my right, two directly ahead on the far side, but only one on my left.
The three on my right are all men wearing robes, each one holding a different object. One has what looks like a carving of a flame, the next holds a depiction of a snowflake, and the third has a blade, but it doesn’t have a hilt, just the blade itself resting on the statue’s upturned palms.
Notably, none of them is wearing a crown.
In contrast, the two men standing on the far side of the room each wear elaborate crowns on their heads. Without moving closer, it’s a little hard to see, but one of the crowned men looks distinctly younger than the other, his features smooth.
I’ve never seen depictions of the Serulian King and his son, but it’s very likely these statues are meant to represent them.
The three men to my right could be the Serulian King’s generals.
As for the final statue, the one standing to my left, the only female figure among them…
She looks like the sketch I saw in Victor’s book. Tall, willowy, gripping a dagger in her right hand while her hair billows across her face, completely obscuring her facial features.
Antony hasn’t commanded me to move further inside the room and, even if he did, I’m not sure I’d immediately obey.
The air within this place is oppressive, squeezing my chest like a noose tightening around my throat.
My stomach continues to swirl as I stare at the woman with the blade, my voice a whisper. “Why have you brought me here?”
“To break the curse.”
I feel his eyes on me, burning into me as surely as if he were an Ember Fae, but I don’t turn to him. Can’t tear my focus from the statue.
This faceless woman demands my attention even as my arm begins to ache where the blade is embedded beneath my skin. I fear another surge of energy from the Dragonstone Blade might happen at any moment, another vision during which I won’t be able to control my actions.
My voice tight, I ask, “What curse?”
The second the question leaves my lips, Antony moves. So fast, I’m left gasping for air.
“Do not toy with me!” His roar blasts my hearing as I find myself swung up into his arms, one of his hands clasping the back of my head, the other pressed to my back.
He’s holding me tightly, and the swiftness of his movement shocked me, but he isn’t hurting me, and that startles me most of all.
The careful way he’s holding me contrasts sharply with the way he’s looking at me. All of the cold nothingness has left his eyes, and now they’re full of hatred.
Full of rage. Directed at me.
“Your power is mine to control,” he says. “You must break the curse willingly, or so help me, I’ll have no choice but to break you.”