by Ann Denton
I flexed my fingers as I descended to the dungeon. I hoped Quinn hadn’t beaten him too badly. I desperately needed to unleash my fury.
Abbas was strung up on chains and suspended from the ceiling like a puppet. His face and chest were a mottled black and blue and a single line of blood trailed down his chest.
The walls and ceiling of his cell were a moldy, damp stone and it looked like Quinn had positioned the asshole to ensure that brackish filth dripped down on the prisoner.
“Are we in the chamber below the cesspit?” I asked.
Yes. The latrines all dump just above us.
Got it. I’ll keep my face back as I hit him. Can he be lowered a little, so I don’t have to strain?
Anything for you, Dove. Quinn quirked a grin and used a lever on the wall to lower Abbas, who moaned, looking worse for the wear.
“Has he talked yet?” I asked before balling up my fist.
I hadn’t gotten around to asking, Quinn leaned back against the wall, casually.
Why not?
He hurt you. A shadow flashed in Quinn’s eyes. The kind of darkness that occurs when storm clouds turn black, just before they unleash their fury. His look made my heart jump, but not in fear. I’d never seen this side of Quinn before. This violent anger. But, clearly, it was a part of him. A spy master’s hands were always stained.
I took a step closer to Quinn, letting the crackling force of his anger buzz along my skin. It was like static electricity. It set my nerves alight. He was darkness. And he was mine.
I sarding love you. I kissed his lips lightly before I turned back toward the prisoner and pulled my elbow back for a right hook.
I swung and connected. I didn’t even feel the pain leaching up my arm because the sense of satisfaction was so intense. My hit made Abbas swing on his chains and I had to back up so he wouldn’t knock me down when he swung back toward me.
“What are you?” I asked the scum licker.
Abbas merely smiled, then let his head shift to a boar’s, complete with tusks. The dungeons allowed shifting. Because what the prisoners didn’t know was that their chains would shift with them.
I grinned at Abbas when he realized he couldn’t reach me. I took a moment to enjoy his frustration before I turned to Quinn.
Think he’s a fairy? I asked Quinn.
Possible. Phouka are known to shapeshift. But dragons and phouka aren’t known to work together.
Abbas changed his head to a black-horned dragon’s head.
I was so emotionally wrung out, I didn’t really process the threat. Too much had happened too quickly.
My only thought on seeing the dragon was this: death might be a nice change.
I didn’t have time to think more than that before Quinn had eliminated the threat. He swung his sword and sliced off a bit of the dragon’s nose.
Abbas roared and his head changed to human form once more. His human nose bled, a tiny sliver at the end removed.
I continued my conversation with Quinn as if we hadn’t nearly been roasted alive.
Phouka come from Gitmore. Gitmore was the one country in the seven kingdoms that truly hated Evaness. The country was Sedara’s northern neighbor and we’d been in a feud with them for ages. Over something stupid, I was sure. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that they might have sent a phouka to my doorstep.
Quinn didn’t agree. They’ve withdrawn since the last Fire War. They have that huge haunted desert between them and the sea. And it would have taken a shiteload of magic to convince all those servants from Cheryn that this bastard was Abbas.
The bastard transformed into a troll, straining at his chains, growing larger and larger; the spelled chains grew with him and held, unlike all the other magic of Wyle’s that had gone to shite.
Quinn simply leaned back against the wall again and watched as Abbas grew so large the chains started to choke him out and he was forced to return to human form.
Then my spy master continued our mental conversation. I don’t know that any one fairy has that kind of power.
A group?
Maybe. His thoughts haven’t gone to anyone specific yet. And that’s another thing. Fairies like to gloat. I’d have expected to hear his thoughts. Hear some smug sort of shite. But other than when I had those elven chains on, he’s shuffling—constantly shuffling g his thoughts. Who can control their mind that well?
But the shapeshifting—
Djinn can shift, too. And at least a djinni would know the customs of Cheryn. It would be easier to fit in, Quinn argued.
I thought djinn could shapeshift, but that most of their power came from wishes.
Declan’s researching it right now. And you’re correct.
So, he can’t be a djinni, I pointed at Abbas.
Not necessarily. At least, Dec doesn’t think so.
Why not?
Dec thinks it depends on the wish. Djinn are slaves to wishes. Any wish short of death is fair game. If a djinni grants you a wish, he has to fulfill it. He has to do anything to see it fulfilled.
You think that’s what’s going on?
Quinn shrugged. I just punch people, Dove.
Well, you haven’t punched any information out of him.
Quinn glared at me. I haven’t really tried yet.
Abbas interrupted our silent argument. He transformed into a giant spider, his limbs growing thinner. The magic in the chains held and transformed with him. But that didn’t stop me from shuddering as a brown spider with black spots stared at me with six beady eyes.
Sard!
Quinn tugged me to the side just as the spider spit. A white mass of web and smoking venom landed on the wall.
What in the sarding hell—
Abbas’ spider form clicked its pincers and turned his head to try again.
Quinn’s sword sliced off two of Abbas’ legs in one fell swoop.
Abbas transformed back into a human, screaming and gnashing his teeth. His left hand was nothing more than a stump. A human hand lay on the ground, a ring on each finger. Next to it, several toes rolled. The prisoner roared and then his body dissolved into black smoke. The chains couldn’t hold smoke.
My heart beat out of my chest. Fear and adrenaline swamped me, and the smoke whirled in front of my face.
Only one magical race could dissolve into black smoke. Not a shapeshifter. Not a fairy. They all had to maintain their bodies somehow. Only one creature could become an element.
Pure djinn.
Declan was right.
There were only about eight pure djinn left in the world. Sultan Raj had most of his competition killed.
I watched the black smoke condense and start to solidify into an entirely new form, one that wasn’t Abbas.
Before the smoke could turn completely, I saw Quinn swing his sword, forcing the djinni to dissolve again.
What are you doing?
Waiting for Declan.
Declan?
Backup, Quinn’s mental voice was breathless as he swung the sword a third time, making sure to slice the smoke in half. The smoke attempted to breach the cracks of the room, to crawl down the gutter, but didn’t go for the bars of the door. I wasn’t certain why until I looked at the door. Or where it had been. Now, all that appeared was a wall.
The door looked to be on the other side of the room, where there was actually only stone. Quinn was disguising the door and the real gutter with his illusions.
Quinn tried to keep up both his magic and the sword fight. But he was quickly tiring. His expertise wasn’t in fighting, particularly fighting smoke, where he couldn’t judge how hard his swings needed to be.
I shot pulses of green light at the smoke, trying to slow it down. I don’t know if it did any good. But it felt better than standing there.
Suddenly, I heard a metallic clatter on the stone floor.
I looked down to see a beer stein rolling on the ground, near the actual door to the cell.
The real cell door slammed shut. The black smoke
bolted toward the door, following the sound.
Shite!
Blast him with peace, Dove!
I lit the room with green light and moaned as my arms ripped open. My magic changed the smoke to a sickly grey-green color.
Quinn scooped up the cup and held it out in the middle of the room. Get in the cup! His mental shout echoed and made my ears ring.
But the smoke continued to swirl. Slower, now that it was infused with peace magic.
“Dec, what’s the opposite of smoke?” I called out.
The smoke in front of us turned to ash. A small, rolling ball of grey dust, like a tiny planet attempting to form, floated in midair. I shot another blast of peace at it, turning the ash green.
“Ash is dust. Opposite of dust!” I yelled.
Quinn stretched out the stein underneath the green ball of ash just as Declan transformed the dust into water.
The green water sloshed down into the beer stein. Quinn slammed the lid down.
“We’re good!” I called out.
A second later Declan burst into the prison chamber.
“What the sard—”
Quinn held out the stein and Declan took it from him. Quinn grabbed the hand that lay on the floor and yanked the jeweled rings off it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
I took all his jewelry off when we first captured him. These rings here only appeared when I severed that hand. They’re probably spelled or something. Which means they’re important, Quinn said to both of us.
Declan nodded his approval. “Djinn are controlled by rings.”
Quinn poured the four sparkling rings into his pocket. Then he scooped me up and his thoughts projected to both of us again. We need to get her to Ryan. She’s gonna pass out.
He strode out of the dungeon, Declan trailing behind with the beer stein that rattled and steamed and even screamed.
“If Abbas was a full djinni,” Declan whispered as we ascended, “you know what that means?” My knight didn’t wait for an answer, “He isn’t the bad guy.”
Quinn whirled to glare at him.
Declan jerked backward. “I mean, obviously he’s a bad guy. But not the bad guy. Djinn are powerful pawns. But that’s it. Someone wished he’d come here. They wished he wouldn’t be able to reveal his master or their plan.”
“Wouldn’t they run out of wishes?” I asked.
Declan shook his head. “That’s only half-djinn. They have three wishes to grant during their lifetime. A full djinni is a slave, so long as you control the ring that controls him. The wishes are endless. And it makes sense. How he was able to shuffle his thoughts and emotions? Whoever sent him wished he wouldn’t be able to reveal his true purpose.”
The beer stein echoed with a tiny shriek and Declan looked down at it thoughtfully.
“From what I read tonight, djinn hate giving out wishes. They don’t do it. Because they hate to be trapped. So, whoever sent Abbas was powerful enough to trick and control a djinni.”
Quinn’s face grew dark, even darker than I’d seen it before. His thoughts projected to both of us. When I was beating him, Abbas merely took it. It was almost as if he was waiting.
“For what?” I asked.
Quinn’s grip on me tightened as he turned to continue up the stairs. You. That’s when he attacked. Whatever this mystery asshole has wished, I’m pretty sure he wants you dead.
Chapter Seven
Ryan had already left on a gargoyle, to chase whatever his men had seen to the south.
So, the castle healer was brought to patch me up for the second time that day. He healed me in my chambers, without saying a word, as I stared at the bluebird perched in a golden cage in the corner.
I opened my mouth to curse the bird and ask what the hell Connor was up to, and why the sard he hadn’t removed the thing … person … whatever he was … but the healing tonics made me drowsy.
Quinn took the beer stein back from Declan and stalked off to who knows where to ‘contain the problem.’
Declan stayed with me, stroking my hair as I dozed.
My dreams were dark. A shadow chased me and morphed into a snake and bit me, which turned into Abbas, teeth clenched on my neck. I jerked awake with a scream. My heart raced.
“Sard!” Declan cursed and sat up beside me. He threw an arm out in front of me as he got to his knees on the bed. He glanced around the room, in the grey light of early dawn. His eyes hunted until he realized there was no one there.
“I’m sorry. Just a nightmare,” I whispered.
Declan’s eyes softened and he held his arms open for me. I snuggled into him, inhaling the soft scent of paper and ink and leather that he carried around.
Declan kissed the top of my head and whispered, “I’ve got you, Peace. I’ve got you.”
“Yes, she’s fine. I’ve got her,” I heard Declan mutter to no one.
Why is he talking to thin air? I wondered.
Then I heard Quinn say, You alright, Dovey?
Mm-hmm. Dec’s got me.
Okay, well, I’m still finishing up. I’m pretty sure the others are, too. We’ll be there as soon as we can.
I yawned and wrapped my arms tighter around Declan.
Declan soothed me, rubbing my back. “Tell me about it.”
I started to talk, but somehow, that just made the image of Abbas sinking his teeth into my neck much more vivid. My chest contracted and I started shaking. Goosebumps sprang up all over my body, even though I was under the covers and in Declan’s arms. I squeezed my eyes shut as Declan pulled me into a sitting position.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Declan sat me in his lap and his hands closed over mine. He interlaced our fingers. It didn’t stop the shaking.
“I might … I feel like I might throw up,” I warned.
“My sweet, Peace. You’re just reacting to the attack earlier. You don’t need to apologize.”
“I shouldn’t have turned my back on him,” I was still bitter about how stupid I’d been.
Declan just lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. He watched how it shook for a moment before he said, “I’m going to help you calm down, okay?”
“Yes.” The urge to vomit grew stronger. Abbas’ voice sounded again in my head.
“Let’s get your gown off,” Declan dropped my hands and reached for my chemise.
Just having his hands drag up my body sent my anxiety spiraling from one direction to another. My knights had only taken me together. Declan and I had never …
“Do you seriously want our first time—” I backed away from him. I didn’t. I didn’t want a nightmare to be the start of my first time alone with Declan. I wanted my first time with him to be sweet and innocent, somewhat bashful, the way I pictured him.
Declan shook his head and laughed as he yanked up my chemise, so it was above my waist. “Stay still. We aren’t sleeping together. I’m going to take care of you,” Declan breathed on my ear. “I know what an anxiety attack is like. That’s what you’re having.”
I glanced down at my hands. They were still shaking.
“I’ll be fine. Probably. Just need to puke.”
Declan’s lips rested against the shell of my ear. “Did you know, I used to have these a lot?”
“No.” I turned to look at him. I studied his light blue eyes. He held my gaze, steady and strong. By the look on his face, I could tell he was telling me the truth. And the ache that grew in my heart at the thought of him hurting was worse than fear. I touched his bare chest. “When? Why?”
He shook his head. “I’ll tell you. But first, I’m going to help your body relax a little, Peace. Trust me.”
“But—”
“Do you trust me?”
I nodded weakly. He pulled me close, so that my back was against the firm muscles of his chest. He bunched my chemise in his hands again and put his lips next to my ear. The feel of his breath on my ear and neck made it hard
to think.
“I want you to trust me completely,” his voice was rough and emotional.
“I do.”
“I won’t hurt you. Ever.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“I’m going to take care of you. Calm you down and chase that nightmare away.” He pulled my chemise over the top of my head slowly and dropped it onto the bed next to us.
“I know.”
I turned into him. I needed a kiss. The things he was saying were so sweet. And that nervous energy inside needed action, not words. My mind didn’t want to make love to him until it was a sweet moment scattered with rose petals. My body felt differently. My body wanted to shed the tremors. My body wanted to writhe against Declan until he was shaking as badly as me, for entirely different reasons.
Declan didn’t give in to my body’s wishes. He gave me one soft kiss, feathering his lips over mine.
“It’s not just the nightmare,” I confessed.
“I know,” he whispered, dragging his fingers through my long brown mane.
“It feels overwhelming,” he whispered in my ear. “It feels like nothing is going right. Like nothing will ever go right. Like the world is spiraling out of control.”
“How do you know?” I mumbled into his shoulder.
“I struggle with it on a daily basis, beautiful. Now, you could dose yourself with your power…”
I hadn’t even thought of doing that. It showed how affected and shaken I was. “I can do that,” I murmured.
“A tiny dose, if it will make you feel better.”
I sent a pulse of peace to my own heart, letting the green glow slip from my fingertips to my heart. My heartbeat slowed, but only partially. I needed more.
Declan stopped my hand before I could do it again. “I think you’ve lost enough blood today, Peace. What if I give you a massage? What if I rub out all that—
Rub out? Hell no! Quinn’s voice interrupted us.
“Quinn!” Declan and I both scolded him at once. But his interruption lightened the mood and I smiled.
“Butt out,” I told Quinn aloud, so Declan could hear.
As long as Declan has to stay out of your butt, too.