Chapter 10
Aliya
Aliya rolled over on the bed, the bedding tangled in her legs. Strands of hair were plastered against her damp forehead. She blinked, staring into the gloomy room.
Try as she might to remember, the nightmare lingered at the periphery of her awareness. Its presence raised her hackles and made her stomach churn, but not enough to allow her conscious mind to parse through any details.
A twinge of disappointment twisted her chest at the cold sheets where Elessan had slept.
Heaving a deep sigh, she wiped a hand down her face, clearing the last vestiges of slumber and brushing her unruly locks out of her eyes.
It was better he wasn’t here, so she didn’t wake him.
She wouldn’t be falling back to sleep any time soon, which didn’t bode well for being bright-eyed in the morning.
Dangling her legs over the side of the bed, her toes curled in the thick rug as she stood. Pale moonlight peeked through her window.
Grabbing a shawl from the wardrobe, she drew it around her shoulders and stepped into the beam.
The garden below was bathed in silver light.
A walk through the roses and lilacs might help calm her mind so she could get back to sleep.
She buckled a belt with a discreet dagger at her waist, making sure it was hidden from obvious view.
Sliding her feet into a pair of flats buried in the back of the closet behind the fancier, more court-appropriate footwear, she ducked into the hallway.
The two guards she’d left stationed outside were nowhere to be seen—either they’d abandoned their post or they were on a quick break. She chose to believe the latter, though the need for both of them to leave together was unlikely and unprofessional.
The sentries would never have dared be caught away from their posts if Malkov was still here.
For the second time that day, she wondered if being queen would be easier if she’d had it in her to rule with fear like he had.
But she was already having a hard time sleeping at night—throwing her moral compass to the wind would only make the problem worse.
Something shuffled through a beam of light at the end of the hall. A person, dressed in a dark tunic and trousers with crimson hands and some sort of red and black scarf wrapped around his head was slinking along the wall away from her room.
Normally Aliya wasn’t prone to bouts of paranoia, but it was too much of a coincidence that both her sentries were missing just when someone was sneaking through her hallway.
She had two options—either risk her life in pursuit and possibly find out who this individual was and what they were up to, or go back and lock herself in her room until her guards or Elessan came to rescue her.
She snorted. Forget that.
Tightening her grip on her dagger, she took off down the hall. “Stop! By order of the queen!”
The figure froze for half a heartbeat at the sound of her voice. Then, they sprinted around the corner.
“Valek!” Aliya charged after them, racing at full-tilt.
The passage in front of her was dark, but empty. She glanced along both walls—there were no doorways the interloper could’ve ducked into. The ceiling had no vents or openings.
It made no sense. She hadn’t been more than fifteen seconds behind them, and yet, they’d disappeared without a trace.
If she couldn’t see her target, there was no way she would be walking down a gloomy hallway by herself just asking to be ambushed. She may be too independent for everyone else, but she wasn’t a moron.
Their hands had likely been red because they were wearing gloves. And a crimson and black scarf around their head only meant one thing—they were hiding their identity. And not only that, but they were doing it with Malkov’s family colors.
Aliya sighed. Well, standing here like an idiot wasn’t going to accomplish anything.
Going back to her room would only force her to sit alone with her thoughts and wonder who the skulking figure was.
And since she definitely wasn’t going to go down the hall after them, she may as well continue what she’d originally planned and go for a walk through the gardens to clear her head.
She’d reached the ground floor before her ears caught the soft scrape of leather soles against stone behind her. Adjusting her grip on the handle of her blade, she ducked into a side passage and tensed, waiting for whomever was following her to appear.
A few heartbeats later, a shadow coasted around the corner.
Aliya lunged, her dagger aiming for her tail’s gut.
A strong hand gripped her wrist, redirecting her attack to the side. Pressure had her fingers spasming open. Her weapon clattered to the ground. Muscular arms tugged, using her momentum to spin her until her back was pinned against a muscled chest.
She squirmed, yanking her hand out of his grip so she could get enough leverage to ram her elbow into her attacker’s solar plexus.
Before she could scream, her assailant leaned forward, putting his lips to her ear. “Hello, my queen.”
Her knees weakened and she was glad he held her so tight, otherwise she likely would have collapsed. “Elessan!”
He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders, and her legs trembled for an entirely different reason.
“Feeling a little jumpy tonight?” he asked as his eyes scanned the hallway behind her, probably searching for her guards.
She leaned into him, enjoying his scent of spring rain with pine and the sensation of his arms wrapped around her.
“A little. I had a nightmare and when I left my room, my sentries were away from their post. I suppose I’m being paranoid.
” She didn’t mention the person skulking about her hall in the gloves and scarf—doing so would only lead to yet another lecture about risking her life.
“Hmm.” His breath rumbled against her skin, sending her heartbeat fluttering. “Perhaps. But better paranoid and alive than the alternative.”
True.
Giving her one final squeeze, he released her, spinning her to face him. He bent, collected her dagger and slid it back into her hand. “Good form on the attack,” he said as he lifted her wrist until the blade’s edge was at his neck. “Next time, though, go for the throat.”
She blinked. Alarm coursed through her as she tried to tug her arm away before she cut him. “What? Why?”
He refused to release her. Instead, he turned the weapon so its tip pointed at the thick artery pulsing beneath his skin. “Aim here.” He shifted her grip to indicate the same spot on the opposite side. “Or here.”
“El!” She pushed away with her free hand, uncomfortable with her blade so close to him.
“Not only is it a quicker death, but if you can get their windpipe, they won’t be able to sound an alarm.”
Aliya froze. “Oh,” she whispered.
“You’re also less likely to get caught on their armor than you are by aiming for their torso.”
Fair point.
As soon as she nodded her understanding, he dropped their arms and slid the dagger into its sheath at her side.
“I was on my way to check on the mages who are trying to deconstruct the Whisperers, and to make sure the elven and human guards aren’t causing problems,” Elessan said. “Care to join me?”
Well, that would be more productive than wandering aimlessly around the garden until her eyelids became heavy. And safer. She swallowed. “Of course. Have there been any reports of issues?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she glanced up, meeting his gaze.
He shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard, but I find it better to be proactive than reactive. Especially in… tense situations.”
There was wisdom in that. Something clenched in her gut.
Elessan would be an exceptional king, nevermind that none of the idiots in either of their kingdoms could see it.
Pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, she chewed the inside of one cheek.
She wasn’t even certain where they’d managed to set up. “You know where the mages are?”
“Yes. They’re in an abandoned homestead a few miles beyond the north edge of town.” He glanced at the sky. “If we want to have the chance of any sleep tonight, we’d best take horses. They’ll be faster than walking.”
Less than an hour later, Aliya trailed Elessan on a dappled gray mare as he led her up a road that was little more than two narrow wheel tracts leading to an old barn.
The dilapidated structure leaned to one side.
Any paint had long since peeled off, and the wooden siding was bleached grayish-white from years of exposure.
She glanced around the clearing. Remnants of an old fence poked up from the overgrown grass. Clearly, no one had lived here for years. It was no doubt the safest place for the Whisperers in case they activated them while trying to destroy the vile things.
In front of her, Elessan tensed, drawing his gelding to a halt.
Aliya brought her horse up beside him. “What’s wrong?”
The corners of his lips were hard. Several heartbeats passed until he whispered, “It’s too quiet.”
Aliya frowned as she studied the scene, then focused her attention on the sky. Leaning closer to him, she murmured, “Are you sure? It’s still hours from dawn. Most people are sleeping right now.”
Elessan shook his head. “The guards should be out on patrol at least. That’s their job, no matter what the mages are doing.”
Blinking, she turned back to the house. Nothing moved except the grass, dancing in the breeze.
The wind shifted, carrying the soft smell of copper.
“Valek!” Elessan slid from his seat, his swords drawn as his feet hit the ground. “Stay here.” He was gone before she could open her mouth to object.
Aliya grabbed the other horse’s reins as she searched the area in front of her for signs of his movement.
Her stomach rolled as if it were filled with a giant ball of serpents.
“El!” She wouldn’t hide with the horses like some child who couldn’t protect herself.
She was a grown woman with passable self-defense skills and powerful magic. She could help!