The Lost Prince of Cadira (Shadowland Saga Book 1)

by Stephanie Anne

  Eliza sighed. What am I going to do? There was no way she was going to be able to sit still, not with what she’d learnt.

  It took only a moment for her to let her curiosity get the better of her. She left her room without considering the consequences. Manoeuvring through the palace, she quickly ducked outside, entering the crisp night with only thoughts of catching Thorne before he left the palace grounds. Sticking to the shadows, she watched him shoulder his pack, horse nowhere in sight.

  She crept out from her hiding place, inching behind a bush. Although she had no doubt that he could make any distance easily on foot, she hoped the lack of horse meant he was staying close to the palace. At least then, she decided, she’d be able to retrace her footsteps back to the entrance. And hopefully, she wouldn’t get caught.

  Sticking to the shadows, Eliza followed several paces behind the commander. There was an ease to his gait that she’d never noticed before.

  Thorne turned a corner, passing under a gaslight. From where she waited, Eliza could make out his features; jaw clenched, Thorne looked like an avenging God with his thick brows furrowed and eyes focused on the path ahead. Despite the darkness around him, she could see his fists clench.

  What is he doing? She considered turning around and heading back towards the palace. He didn’t seem to be doing anything important, and part of her was disappointed. She shook that away, and guilt nestled within her instead. What am I doing? This is Thorne! Eliza took a step back, ready to return to the palace, but stopped.

  Damned curiosity, she thought. She’d pushed aside her questions about Thorne and his past relationships, but now she was throwing it all away.

  When he disappeared behind the next corner, Eliza crept forward, keeping her eyes peeled for both Thorne and anyone who might disrupt her sleuthing. If there was one thing she knew she was good at, it was sneaking around. Growing up in New Orleans, surrounded by the numerous cemeteries and nosy spirits, Eliza knew how to use stealth to her advantage. At a young age, it had become a rather useful talent, and there was no reason for that talent to go to waste, especially in Cadira.

  The commander stopped at the end of the narrow alley, almost completely shrouded in shadow. At the other end, Eliza could make out what had to be a canal, branching off the main lake that took up most of the capital. Moonlight reflected off its surface, sending refracted light off the small, white-capped waves.

  Eliza rushed across the street and into a shallow alcove, pressing herself into the sticky bricks at her back. From where she stood, she had a relatively good view of Thorne and anyone who might enter the alley.

  She felt a small bubble of magic swell within her as she willed the shadows to her and hid herself completely from sight.

  “It’s been a while, kid.” The voice, low and gruff, echoed through the alley, forcing Eliza to duck back into her hiding place, despite the magic that shielded her. A shiver danced up the length of her spine, and goose bumps rose along her arms.

  I know that voice. She didn’t know from where, but she recognised it, like she was watching an animated movie with a well-known actor voicing a character, but one she couldn’t place. But how? Was he someone from her past?

  And why was the commander meeting with a stranger in a back alley?

  Thorne grunted. “Not long enough,” he replied. Eliza heard footsteps against the damp cobblestone, then the whine of a sword being pulled from a sheath. “Look, I wouldn’t have contacted you if this wasn’t urgent.”

  The man who had spoken before replied with a malice that made Eliza shudder. “You gave up the right to call on us when you left the Brotherhood.”

  The Brotherhood? Eliza peered out from her hiding spot; there were three of them, all tall, standing at least six foot, roughly the same height as Thorne. They each wore a hooded cloak that covered their faces. She couldn’t make out their features, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. They looked dangerous enough, and the middle man—the one who had spoken—had drawn his sword.

  Magic danced at her fingertips just in case any took a step towards the commander.

  Is this what he had been doing? Eliza’s gut twisted.

  “I know.” Thorne sounded hesitant, uneasy. Wariness rolled off him like a stench; like he didn’t want to be there any more than the men around him. “But I need your help.”

  The same man barked a humourless, taunting laugh. “Our help?” he spat incredulously. “You want our help? Boy, after what you did—”

  “I know what I did.” Defensively, Thorne took a step back, and he lowered his voice. Eliza strained to hear what he had to say. “But I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t a life or death situation.”

  Another man spoke up, his voice kinder. Eliza strained to see him from the shadows. “Does this have anything to do with the girl you’ve been travelling with? The one who is supposed to find the prince?”

  The blood in Eliza’s veins ran cold as Thorne nodded stiffly. How do they know about me? The mission? The king had been firm in keeping it a secret—she was still surprised he’d even allowed Thorne to continue working with her.

  But to be out in the open the way the commander was… Panic seized her, quick as lightning, and she searched with her magic for anyone who might be listening. She used her natural connection to the land to feel for life, but only found a strange, ancient force coming from Thorne and the three men.

  What are they?

  The kind of magic that radiated from them made her stomach twist. It reminded her of…

  Several drunkards stumbled past the mouth of the alley, loud and obnoxious as they sang some gaudy tune about a woman in a flouncy dress. Eliza flinched, and wrapped the shadows around herself more tightly.

  At the end of the alley, the four men fell silent, and Eliza could have almost imagined that they’d disappeared.

  Finally, there was a sigh—she couldn’t tell from who—and she stuck her head out from the alcove to watch them. “She cannot receive help from us,” the kinder man said. Eliza noticed Thorne’s shoulders drop at the words. “The power of the Ecix is her only hope.”

  Confusion swirled in Eliza’s gut as Thorne’s head shot up at the term. What the hell is an ‘Ecix’? The blood in her veins ran cold, then boiling hot. She knew the word, just like she knew the men and other little things. Déjà vu just wasn’t cutting it for her anymore. What the hell is going on?

  She flinched again as Thorne stepped away from the three men, shaking his head. “No,” he said, thrusting a hand through his tousled hair. “No.”

  What did he know?

  The middle, scarier man nodded his head. “Yes.” There was a pause that sent Eliza’s stomach lurching. “I know you have a past with the Ecix. But the Ecix is the only one who will be able to guide your girl to where she needs to go. The Blood Witches foretold it.”

  Again, with the Blood Witches? Eliza pursed her lips. What did the Witches have to do with anything? They had a strange way of showing their heads when she least expected it, Eliza realised. Wherever she looked, there they were, eerily watching her. Just like the ‘Dark Master’. What did the Blood Witches have to do with any of this? She wondered.

  She was starting to learn there was no such thing as coincidences.

  The kinder man picked up where the gruff one left off. “Because of our oath and your isolation, we cannot interfere.”

  So many questions swirled around Eliza’s head. They muddled themselves in her mind until her blood sang in her ears.

  Eliza had to admit there was a lot that she didn’t know about Thorne; she didn’t know anything about his background, his past, or his family. Hell, she wasn’t even entirely sure about his age.

  “So, you cannot give me any information about what I seek? Nothing about the Dark Master?” Thorne asked quietly, almost like he was afraid to ask the question.

  The kinder man shook his head. “We can tell you nothing else. Our oath forbids it.”

  Disappointment shuddered through Eliza; she hadn’
t realised that she, too, had been hoping they might say more. Even though she wondered about their motives and who they were, she wanted any—and every—piece of information she could get.

  The breath rushed out of Thorne as he ran his hand through his hair again. “Alright.”

  But he didn’t sound particularly disappointed, not like how she imagined he would be.

  Confusion swirled in her gut as the commander turned his head, almost like he’d spotted her in the alcove.

  The middle man clicked his tongue. “Anything else you want, boy?”

  Thorne shook his head. “No. You’ve done enough.”

  ~

  It was the spirit of an old man in a white bed-robe that told Eliza it was safe for her to leave the shadows. She wasn’t too sure how long she ended up staying in the alcove, replaying everything that had been said about her and this ‘Ecix’, but her knees cracked when she finally fell out of the shadows and into the dim streetlight.

  How was she connected to the Ecix? And how did this all tie into the Dark Master and the Blood Witches? There was just too much she didn’t know about this world. Hell, she didn’t know that much about herself, it seemed.

  Eliza released the shadows that had kept her hidden from Thorne’s retreating form. She’d noticed that he had turned right, rather than left, heading in the opposite direction of the palace.

  She had no desire to follow him that time.

  Stepping out of the alley, Eliza turned left. The palace loomed ahead of her, spires and turrets now dark claws that reached for the heavens. They had an eerily menacing look about them as she headed towards the palace. The looming hedges behind the curtain wall didn’t help the dark imaginings that swirled inside her mind.

  A cold chill wrapped itself around Eliza, forcing her to stop in the middle of the street. Icy tendrils of doubt and darkness enveloped her now shivering body. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Above her, the gas lamp flickered. In the back of her mind, she heard the word: run.

  Taking off in a sprint, Eliza headed straight for the castle, bypassing the guards on duty. They called out to her, but none made a move to follow her.

  In her haste, Eliza had completely missed the boy who had been standing across the street smiling.

  She hadn’t noticed the way his fingers had curled around a delicate blade, or his eyes: green, like summer grass, which hid the monster within.

  21

  SECRETS OF THE WITCH

  Dark crescents lined Eliza’s green eyes. Though she’d finally dragged herself from the comfort of her bed and down to the palace library, she still wished to be asleep, dreaming away all her unanswered questions.

  She had to forget what had been revealed by Thorne and his acquaintances, but she found it hard to push the Ecix from her mind.

  The sand. Eliza closed her eyes and heaved a breath. Two vials, cold with the winter air, filled with sand that could lead her straight to Prince Alicsar. She knew she needed to see Thorne, tell him about Amitel’s sudden appearance and the message, but she stopped herself.

  Eliza sucked in a breath and released it slowly.

  She started towards a wall decorated with maps, hesitating when her eyes landed on the scarcely explored landscape known as the Mesah Desert. The only travelled areas of the desert were the outskirts and an old slave prison located close to the villages, tucked into a remote mountain range that once had been accessible by a river, Eliza noted. Every other part of the map was uncharted.

  Beneath the map lay a large glass door cabinet filled with maps—none of which, Eliza mused as she picked through them, would lead her through the desert. If they did, she would imagine that the prince would have already been found. What she needed was an ancient map, and those were kept under lock and key.

  Eliza pulled one of the maps from the case and started for a table. “Priority one. Make sure we aren’t sent on a wild goose chase.”

  For the most part, the library remained quiet. Scholars kept to themselves, their robes a whisper as they walked the long rows of books. As she sat, she unravelled the map and used discarded books to flatten the edges.

  She pulled the vials from her bag and set them down on the map. They rested atop the markings of the Labyrinth Mountains, home to the Blood Witches. Eliza pushed them from her mind as well. She didn’t need to go over what Amitel had revealed in the garden. She didn’t want to.

  Swallowing thickly, Eliza pulled the stoppers off the vials and tipped the sand directly onto the map.

  Closing her eyes, Eliza rested her hand an inch above the map, the tracking spell clear in her mind. The intricacies of the spell played out in her head; the draw from the magic of Cadira as she willed the sand to move, to wind its way back to where it came from. A warmth spread over her palm where it hovered over the sand.

  The warmth disappeared a moment later. She released a slow breath before opening her eyes.

  During the spell, the sand had moved, shifting so it covered the desert.

  “Yes,” she whispered, eyes widening. “Yes.”

  They weren’t on the wrong track. The sand Amitel had left her, and the sand from the tunnel, came from the desert.

  Was the prince actually there?

  The urge to tell Thorne rushed through her, but she still wasn’t entirely sure about him, not after his meeting with the Brotherhood.

  “Next priority,” she muttered, standing, “figure out what the hell is going on with Thorne.”

  Eliza waved a hand and the sand returned to the vials. She tucked them back into her bag, before returning the map to the case. She started for a random wall of books next, hoping to find something. She couldn’t tell if there was some kind of order to the library that she wasn’t seeing. But then again, what she was searching for might not have been common knowledge, especially to the resident scholars.

  Not if the Blood Witches were involved.

  She sighed and shook her head. There may have been a scholar who could help, but she was too afraid to ask.

  She didn’t even know what the Brotherhood meant.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t even bother,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Maybe I should just… let it go.”

  “Let what go?”

  Eliza jumped and spun. “You.”

  The spirit who had deliberately gotten her lost grinned. “Hello again.”

  “Go away,” she hissed, starting for a different section of the library.

  The boy reappeared. “But it looks like you need something.”

  “Not from you.”

  He pouted. “But I swear I can help!”

  Eliza shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

  “Tell me what you’re looking for.”

  She stopped and looked him over warily. “Alright.” She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m looking for anything relating to the Brotherhood.”

  The boy’s eyes went wide. “Why?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked.

  “It’s just…” The boy began floating through the stacks. Should she follow?

  She followed.

  “The Brotherhood are legendary,” he said, stopping by the far wall. He pointed to a book, which Eliza cautiously picked up. “My brother went to join them.”

  Carefully, she flipped the book open, and to her surprise, found direct references to the Brotherhood. She looked up and met the boy’s stare. “What happened to him?”

  The boy shrugged. “Not sure. Never saw him again. Then again, I did die a month later.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” He grinned. “Now I get to live forever.”

  He disappeared before she could reply, and she huffed. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” she muttered, “but okay then.”

  Book in hand, something inside of her changed. Perhaps it was the weight of what she was searching for, or perhaps something else entirely, but Eliza almost recognised the book in her hand.

  Like she’d seen it before. Read it.

>   She shook her head. Impossible.

  The main section of the library had a space dedicated to reading, so Eliza headed towards one of the many empty desks and sat herself down, the tome in front of her. The brown cloth of the cover had a layer of dust sticking to the leather, and when she finally opened to the introduction, Eliza spied crossed out passages, and it looked as if someone had gone through and torn out pages.

  But she read anyway, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  The Brotherhood are a league of warrior knights sworn to protect and obey the wishes and orders of the Blood Witches. They have existed for over seven hundred years. They were organised by the head knight, Aerelm Vyncis, who served under High Witch Valazena, and saw the resurgence of the Valondeans.

  She stopped. She’d had an inkling that the Brotherhood had somehow been connected to the Blood Witches, but she hadn’t realised how.

  It is said they were created in response to a threat to the Blood Witches, though historians believe it was to combat the need for Blood Witches to converse personally with ruling Monarchs.

  Brothers are chosen by a pool of young men presented to the Blood Witches. Only five from each group remain to take the Brotherhood’s oath. There is nothing said about what happens to the others.

  Men who join the Brotherhood do not leave. They take oaths that are kept until death. Once chosen, they are gifted with immortality and blessed by the Witches in other ways, most of which are unknown to us.

  In recent years, they, like the Witches, have kept their distance from the neighbouring kingdoms. During the attack on the Cadiran King, King Bastian—

  The passage ended there.

  Eliza sat back and ran a hand through her hair. Her heart had dropped into the pit of her stomach.

  Had Thorne’s connection to the Brotherhood been the reason why he’d been so intent on joining her for the mission? Eliza tried to shake the thought from her mind, but… it seemed like too much of a coincidence to her.