Chapter 2 Cethin #2
“Do you always speak with such dramatics?” he drawled, gaze roving over the thing, trying to find any sort of weaknesses, but there were none.
It was so still, not even the air rippled around it.
He couldn’t track his eyes because of the lack of pupils.
There was no gait or movement to give away a vulnerability.
There was no warning of its attack.
In a flash, the thing flew towards him. It had clearly been studying him too.
Because this time when he tried to dodge to the side, its incorporeal hand shot out, gripping his throat.
Stronger than he should have been, the being slammed him against the wall.
His head snapped back, spots appearing at the edges of his vision.
With a flourish, the being pulled a dagger from the air. The hilt and blade were as gold as the swords had been two nights ago, but before the creature could bring it to Cethin’s flesh, he thrust his hand forward.
The arrow he still held went deep into the being’s side, and the creature stumbled back with an outraged hiss, releasing Cethin’s throat.
“They aren’t supposed to be here,” it snarled, the words broken and raspy. Then its head tipped back too far, and its mouth fell open, wisps of light spewing from it. Moments later, it dissipated into ashes and…faint embers?
The arrow clattered to the floor, everything turning to the same wispy light except for the arrowhead.
When Razik had killed the beings, they’d turned to ash, but this had been different somehow. He hadn’t realized it before—in the heat of everything—but now that he had a moment to think, the same thing had happened when the female had killed one.
The sound of boots running had him swiping up the arrowhead and shoving it into his pocket as Tybalt rounded the corner with Razik behind him. The younger Greybane still looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and disheveled hair. He glared at Cethin as if this attack was his fault.
“What happened?” Tybalt demanded. If his features didn’t betray how furious he was, the shifted reptilian pupils and glowing sapphire irises did.
“I heard screaming and found them,” Cethin answered, making his way back to Lady Nessira’s body.
“You ran to the screaming?” Razik drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. “How noble of you.”
“Razik,” Tybalt growled, but then he turned back to Cethin. “But I’m going to have to repeat that question, Cethin. You ran towards the screaming?”
“Of course I did,” he replied, crouching beside the body. “Where is Paesha? We need to talk to her. Find out what she saw.”
When no one answered, he glanced up to find Razik still glaring at him and Tybalt rubbing his brow with his thumb and forefinger. “Cethin, I don’t know why I need to keep reminding you that you are the king. You can’t—” He stopped himself, sighing deeply.
“If you get yourself killed, the kingdom has no one,” Razik said flatly.
“You don’t care if I’m killed,” Cethin grumbled under his breath, but with their enhanced hearing, of course Razik heard him.
“You’re right. I don’t. But even I recognize how disastrous that would be. That’s why I haven’t killed you yet. You’re the one person who doesn’t seem to understand the effects that would have.” He paused before adding with a shrug, “Or maybe you simply don’t care.”
“I swear to all the gods, Greybane—” Cethin started, but Tybalt interrupted.
“Tell us what happened. Then we’ll find Paesha and take care of…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Lady Nessira’s lifeless body.
“One of those spirit beings was here,” Cethin said flatly, gaze now fixed on the pool of red beneath the lady.
The lords and ladies of the advising council didn’t usually stay at the castle.
They all had their own homes in the territories they governed, Traveling to the castle every twenty days for council meetings.
However, with the recent and escalating attacks, an urgent meeting had been called to discuss what to do.
But how do you prepare for more attacks when you don’t know what you’re fighting against?
Clearly any preparation would be meaningless anyway, because how the fuck had that being even gotten inside?
There were wards covering a wide radius around the castle.
There were a handful of people who could Travel directly into the building or even onto the grounds for that matter.
Everyone and everything else had to physically enter through doors, passing numerous sentinels that patrolled the entrances, grounds, and halls.
Several seconds of silence ticked by before Razik said, a trace of doubt in his tone, “And where is the creature now?”
“Dead,” Cethin answered, pushing back to his feet.
“How? Only dragon fire can kill them. Your parlor tricks were useless.”
Cethin gritted his teeth, those parlor tricks churning in his soul, the darkness writhing beneath his skin. With a sneer, he replied, “You wouldn’t have been much help anyway. Your reserves aren’t even half refilled.”
Smoke furled with Razik’s next exhale, and Cethin felt his lips twitch at his success in getting under the male’s skin.
“Razik’s question is important,” Tybalt interjected again with another audible sigh. He had bent, retrieving some of the laundry that had been spilled from the basket and using it to cover the body. It was then Cethin realized it was his laundry. His own various tunics and pants.
Gently laying a black tunic over Lady Nessira’s face and chest, Tybalt continued, “If you’ve found another way to defeat them, it needs to be shared.”
“I didn’t really,” Cethin answered, slipping his hand into his pocket and fingering the arrowhead. “Not another way, I mean. I had an arrow.”
Razik’s gaze whipped to him. “One of hers?”
Cethin nodded, his hand wrapping around the arrowhead possessively, feeling it cut into his flesh and causing blood to well.
Something inside him twisted at the idea that Razik seemed interested in her.
Which was ridiculous. They were all interested in her.
Aside from dragon fire, she was the only other person who’d effectively defeated the things.
There were only two Sargon descendants in the realm, but how many of her were there?
“Where is this arrow?” Tybalt asked, straightening once more.
“Disappeared with the creature,” Cethin answered.
Razik was rubbing his jaw. “That happened with the other one too. Other than the arrowhead.” He looked around as if expecting to see it on the floor somewhere.
And for a reason he couldn’t explain, Cethin said, “There was nothing left behind.”
Razik made a grunt of acknowledgment, clearly mulling over something.
“We need to find her,” Tybalt said, as they all started down the hall.
They’d locate Paesha and send someone to collect Lady Nessira’s body.
“In the meantime, there is now a vacancy on the advisory council that will need to be filled, and…” Another heavy sigh sounded.
“More concrete plans need to be put in place if something should happen to you until you have a partner or heir.”
Cethin’s lips thinned, but he said nothing.
He wasn’t stupid or na?ve. He understood that if he were killed somehow, the kingdom would be in distress.
They could have all kinds of plans in place.
He could make a decree naming someone his heir if he died without one, but the truth was, there would be power grabs.
All manner of beings would come out to challenge for the throne.
Most of them wouldn’t have the best for Avonleya at heart.
They found Paesha, and Cethin listened while Tybalt coaxed information from her. She didn’t know why Lady Nessira had been down on that level of the castle. Paesha had heard the lady scream and went to help, only to witness the being slide a gold knife across her throat.
She kept apologizing profusely to Cethin about his laundry, as if that was of any importance.
It didn’t matter how many times he told her the same, but she was clearly in shock.
Niara was summoned to give her an elixir to help her sleep, while a couple of sentinels were sent to retrieve the lady’s body.
They’d have to hold yet another Farewell tomorrow.
It was hours later, the first rays of dawn already breaking the horizon, when he found himself back in his chambers. He didn’t sleep. No, he sat in the same chair, finger once again steepled along his temple, toying with the arrowhead in his other hand.
Tybalt wasn’t wrong. They needed to find her.
He flipped the arrowhead again, feeling the edges scrape against his palm and draw blood. The wound would heal as quickly as the others had, nothing but small cuts and scrapes.
They needed to find her.
The morning hours slowly crept by, dawn becoming full daylight. Rays of sunshine streamed into the room, and still he hadn’t moved. All he could think about was the way those amber eyes had glared at him.
They needed to find her.
But he’d felt her before. Knowing what she was, it all made sense. He hadn’t realized it was a person and not a feeling. Something powerful. Something predatory. Something that had been watching him.
He needed to find her.
The thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with her when he did.