The Lost Prince of Cadira (Shadowland Saga Book 1)

by Stephanie Anne

  He rolled his eyes, smile disappearing. “That is part of the reason why I’m here, actually.”

  Behind him, a boy leading a horse appeared. Sandy hair caught the wan light of the sun. Eliza checked her surprise, merely raising a brow as he approached in dark riding leathers.

  Her voice, however, came out as a whisper. “Dorin.”

  Amitel spared Dorin a quick, unamused glance. “Yes. You’ve already met my friend.” The Warlock didn’t sound too friendly, she noticed. “He’s been an informant for me here in the palace for a while, and I asked him to watch out for you while you were here. He informed me of what happened at the ball last night and, well, since I was already in the capital, I thought I might offer my help.”

  The commander stepped up. His stiff shoulders did not relax an inch. “And what help might that be, Amitel?”

  “Good question, Commander.” Amitel pointed to Dorin, who had finally caught up. “You’ll likely be in need of a guide to get you to Mesah.”

  Dorin didn’t meet her stare, and instead looked between her and Thorne. “I grew up there. I know the roads from Port Beewold like the back of my hand, and I know most of the cities there.”

  Finally, his eyes met hers.

  “It would be helpful,” Amitel drawled, stepping into Eliza’s line of sight. She didn’t miss the way Dorin watched Amitel with distrust.

  What is that about?

  Thorne cleared his throat. “Celia is arranging safe travel for us now.”

  Eliza’s attention snapped to him. “Too many people…”

  She knew that name though. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognised the name. From her dreams. The memory of gold, of worried eyes and something else warmed a deep part of her.

  Eliza shook her head, feeling sick. After the attack, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted Thorne with her, not with the chance that he could be targeted by the Dark Master just for helping her. But taking Dorin and now Celia… Eliza wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with the amount of lives being put at risk.

  “We’ll have to make do,” Thorne said with a sigh. “Celia is a powerful witch, and we’ll need the extra protection. Neither of us know the desert well enough, and we would have needed a guide as soon as we got there, Eliza.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”

  “I’m helping because I want to, Eliza,” Dorin said quietly, surprising her. “I’m putting myself in danger. And like the commander said, you need the added protection. Let me do that for you.”

  Amitel looked her over with shadowed eyes. “After last night, the Dark Master—if it even is the Dark Master who has the prince—is getting bolder. It’s clear he’s after you, Eliza, and for that reason, having others help protect you on your mission will perhaps save your life and the life of your prince.”

  “Let me help you, Eliza.” Dorin stepped around Amitel, his horse joining hers.

  “I need to go. Dorin has his horse prepared, and he has a way to contact me if needed.” It looked as if the Warlock wanted to say more, but he held his tongue, instead nodding in the commander’s direction.

  Eliza stepped up and touched his arm, throat tightening. “Thank you, Amitel.”

  He winked and swept down in a bow. “All in a day’s work. Now, I really should be off. Say hello to Celia for me, it’s been a while since I saw her last.”

  The Warlock nodded to Dorin before clasping hands with Thorne. How long have they really known each other? she wondered. If she was right and Thorne was immortal, what did that mean when they finished the mission?

  She tried not to think about that.

  As Amitel turned to Dorin, Eliza pulled Thorne aside. “How well do you know Celia?” she asked. She kept Dorin and Amitel in the corner of her eye.

  Thorne frowned. “For a long time. Why?”

  “You’ve never mentioned her before. And I think it’s weird how you’ve invited her to join the mission, like we’re just going for a stroll in the gardens.”

  “Eliza…” he sighed and shook his head. “Do you remember when I told you about the girl I once loved?” Mutely, Eliza nodded. “Celia is her sister.”

  Blood running cold, Eliza said nothing as Thorne stepped away. She heard him bid Amitel farewell, but her mind was reeling.

  Someone touched her hand, and she startled, blinking up at Amitel. “What?”

  The Warlock grinned. “Be careful out there,” he said, before stepping back.

  Amitel met her stare one last time before turning away from their party. Eliza gazed at his retreating form, and not for the first time that day, felt a little lighter, like there was hope after all.

  26

  DREAMS OF DEATH

  When the coast came into sight a day later, Eliza, Dorin, and Thorne led their horses into a copse of trees and tied them to a branch before heading back to the road to scope out the port city.

  Fishing boats dotted the water, while massive transport and trading ships filled the horizon. Farther along, Thorne pointed out the navy harbour and the hundreds of vessels that filled its small port. Most of which were being tended to.

  But the city itself was cramped and overpopulated; squat buildings bled into one another, while the docks were full of people and vendors. The city centre seemed to be the hub of activity. The city bled outwards, spreading across the coast and into the hills beyond until there were only scattered hamlets and farms.

  That wasn’t what worried her, though.

  As her magic danced across the hills of the coast, Eliza sensed the essence of demons, barely hidden by the city. Demons weren’t inherently bad, but they were easily manipulated. It required powerful and dark magic to control the hoards, though.

  “They’re patrolling,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to Thorne and Dorin. “Demons. A hundred at least. The Dark Master knows we’re here.”

  Thorne cursed under his breath and disappeared back into the trees. Eliza waited, casting a glance over the open lands again. A chill ran down her spine. Something isn’t right here.

  Dorin followed Thorne into the trees, neither speaking, leaving Eliza to run messages. She understood Thorne’s lack of trust.

  She frowned and made sure she was alone before walking farther onto the road until she was amongst the trees across from their newly-chosen campsite. The trees were thicker here, growing closer together. Moss-ridden rocks scattered the ground, and Eliza carefully stepped over them, heading towards the centre of the grove.

  White flowers sprouted from the emerald green grass. A light breeze brushed over Eliza, picking at the hair clinging to her forehead, rustling the leaves above her.

  A shiver danced down the length of her spine, the temperature chilling significantly. She crossed her arms over her chest and spun in a slow circle, brows furrowing.

  There’s nothing here.

  Not a spirit, or a sprite, or a demon. Nothing. The grove was quiet, almost unwelcoming.

  She heard her name called from the road. Eliza carefully picked her way back towards the horses.

  “I’m here!” She cleared the trees into the open sunlight and shielded her eyes.

  Thorne and Dorin were not alone on the road; beside them stood the girl from the ball. Her dark hair was braided back from her face, blue eyes bright with untouched emotion. She wore indistinguishable riding leathers, but there was something about the way her brows furrowed that reminded Eliza of the girl from her dreams.

  Somehow, Eliza had forgotten the mysterious woman would be joining them at the port. Looks like she found us though.

  “We thought you’d been taken.” Dorin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. A ring Eliza had never seen before glinted on his hand. She couldn’t quite make out the sigil, but it looked almost like a dragon in flight.

  Eliza cocked her head and smiled. “Sorry guys, but you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Thorne narrowed his eyes, ready to reply, but Celia stepped forwards and offered her h
and.

  “I am sorry we did not get to properly meet the other night,” she said, a thick accent stilting her words. “I’m Celia.”

  Eliza looked over her again and tried to identify the origin, but nothing came to mind. Yet… Eliza recognised the accent, as if she’d heard it before in passing, but she couldn’t place where. Celia had pointed ears, too, a mark of her own Fae heritage.

  Eliza took the woman’s hand and shook it. There had to be maybe be a four-year age difference between them, though they stood at similar heights with nearly identical builds.

  “Yeah,” Eliza replied, tucking her hand into her pocket, “sorry I got knocked out.”

  Celia smiled. “I do not believe that was your fault.”

  Thorne cleared his throat, forcing everyone’s attention to him. Eliza rolled her eyes.

  “Niceties aside, unfortunately we need a way into the port and onto one of those ships. It’ll take too long to get around the mountains, and we don’t have that kind of time. Celia, you’ve managed to get us passage?” Celia nodded, and Eliza’s brows shot up. “Good. That means we don’t have time to waste getting around those patrols. We still have maybe four hours of sunlight. So, let’s make the most of it.”

  ~

  The streets were packed with vendors: fish mongers shouted their prices and flailed their possessions, while trinket stall owners stalked out in the open and cornered unsuspecting shoppers, coercing them into buying things they didn’t need. Some stalls had travel supplies, and it was towards those that Thorne directed their small party, careful to keep away from the unassuming shadows that drenched the port. In those shadows were demons hunting them.

  “We have anything and everything you might need in making a journey! Are you searching for treasure? Wealth? A lady? Well, you are in luck good sir! I have the map for you! Enchanted by the legendary Blood Witches, this map will lead you wherever you desire!” The market vendor shoved the map into Thorne’s hands. “Trust me when I tell you it works! Found me wife with that thing! We have ten bastards because’ve it!”

  Thorne dropped the map and ducked away from the vendor, who shouted after him. “Nothing of value there,” he said, voice low. Celia and Eliza stuck to his sides so they could hear him clearly over the raucous shouting of the market. “We have everything we need.”

  “We don’t have a map, though,” Celia hissed. She looked back at the vendor, who had moved on to some other man. “Here… they are an expensive commodity.”

  “I have a map of the old cities,” Eliza said, directing the attention to herself. “A couple of newer ones, as well. But I haven’t looked at them since the capital.”

  Beside her, Dorin released a breath. “Are those the ones Henry Ivo gave you?”

  “Yes,” Eliza replied. “Thank the Gods he finally got them to us before we left.”

  Celia shook her head, a smile plastered across her face. “How am I not surprised?”

  “What?” Eliza asked, frowning.

  Thorne took both their hands, dragging them along the boardwalk and away from the exciting market. He pulled them towards a section of buildings where ships were being repaired. Dorin followed at a slower pace, caught up in the excitement, his eyes wide as they took everything in.

  “Okay. We have maps. We have supplies. And we have our tickets out of here.” Thorne looked around them, searching the shadows. “From what I could tell, the demons didn’t catch our scent.”

  “I masked it,” both Eliza and Celia said in unison.

  Eliza groaned and Celia laughed.

  “Good,” Thorne said. “We cannot stay here. We have two hours of daylight left and if we are caught in the city after dark, then we are completely exposed. We just need to know our route in and out. Which ship are we on?”

  Celia explained the fishing boat she had procured, noting how inconspicuous it was and how the captain had promised them safe passage to Beewold, where he had already been heading.

  Eliza drowned the two of them out; Thorne would tell her again when they got back to the horses, and then again in the morning and twice more after that. She didn’t bother listening to what they said. Dorin seemed to be animated in the discussion though, as he spoke about the route from Beewold to Mesah.

  Behind them, the market bustle carried on like there weren’t malicious demons stalking their every move. Eliza could make out the calls for fish and strange pocket watches and smell the rotting meat.

  Shaking her head, Eliza turned back to Thorne, Dorin, and Celia, but stopped. At the mouth of an alley, a spirit beckoned her. She could have sworn it was the little girl from the Winter Palace.

  “Thorne,” she said, pulling his attention from Celia. “We need to go down there, right now.” She pointed to the alley.

  “What?” He looked between her and the darkness, brows furrowed. “Why, Eliza?”

  She looked at him pleadingly. “Trust me. We need to go there now.”

  Without waiting for him or Celia, Eliza dashed across the street towards the alley, Dorin not far behind. The little girl stood at the mouth once more, two other children at the other end. The girl disappeared when Eliza approached, reappearing in a sunken alcove.

  Eliza went in behind her, pulling Dorin, Thorne and Celia along with her.

  “What are we doing in here?” Celia asked, frowning. She stuck her head out, bright blue eyes searching the alley, but Eliza pulled her back in and placed a finger to her lips.

  They waited in silence for ten minutes before they heard footsteps. A cloaked figure appeared at the mouth of the alley, darkness swimming and rippling around them. The figure used it to mask its appearance, but Eliza could tell straight away that there was something… demonic about the way it appeared.

  “We have tracked the girl to this port,” the hooded figure spat, kneeling before another, more sinister creature. Eliza couldn’t see it clearly, but shivers racked her body when it spoke.

  “Good.” The word slithered over her.

  Thorne cocked his head, eyes narrowed, and Eliza placed her hand over his. He knew they were talking about her. Who else would they be tracking?

  “The girl is not alone,” the hooded demon said, shaking its head. “She is in the company of others.”

  The other figure came into view. It was not an actual figure, though, but an outline made of smoke.

  “Do not harm the girl,” it said, moving around the demon with ease. Eliza shot up a wall of shadows, and she felt Celia do the same, making sure to keep themselves hidden. “Her… friends on the other hand. Keep them around just long enough so that I can kill them.”

  Eliza’s blood ran cold, and her heart stopped.

  The hooded demon bobbed its head in response.

  “Have you sensed her magic?” its master asked.

  It bobbed its head again. “Everywhere. The girl is everywhere.”

  Eliza could almost feel the shadow man smile. “Good. Her magic is almost at its peak. Soon, I will have the power of the Ecix. Go, gather your demons. Make sure to keep an eye on them.”

  The shadow man disappeared with a wave of his hand, leaving the demon to twist the shadows around himself until he, too, was gone.

  They waited twenty more minutes before exiting the alcove and dissipating their shields. Once in the open, Eliza sucked in a breath, tasting the salty air of the port on her tongue. But she didn’t care. She just needed to breathe.

  “We need to go.” Dorin had his hand on Eliza’s back. Thorne held on tightly to Celia’s hand. Was there a chance that Eliza was completely wrong? That perhaps they weren’t talking about her, but rather, Celia? Eliza knew nothing about her, especially whether she was the Ecix or not. And the Brotherhood back in the capital had mentioned Thorne’s past with the Ecix.

  Eliza nodded, meeting Dorin’s worried gaze. “Let’s go back to the horses. We don’t have much time left before it gets too dark.”

  Thorne nodded, eyes a storm of tightly wound emotions, and they all entered the market once agai
n.

  Eliza almost missed the raven, perched on the shoulder of the Knight. It almost gave her the reassurance she needed.

  Almost.

  ~

  Darkness enveloped the world; it covered the land in smoke and dust, in writhing shadows that reached for her no matter how fast she ran. It crept out of crevices and slithered over ruins, all in the hopes of consuming the light that warded it off.

  Eliza ran, but she wasn’t sure why. There was something behind her, chasing her. Something inevitable.

  She ran, nonetheless.

  Fear spiked in her heart, pumping her blood faster, harder, forcing her to run from the darkness that stalked her. In her wake, she heard whispers.

  Dread shuddered through her.

  Run faster. She did.

  You will die. She believed that.

  You will be the death of everything. That scared her most.

  Her breathing accelerated until there was no breath left.

  Oblivion. It felt like an abyss and she was falling, down, down, into nothingness. She was unaware of the things around her, unaware of what happened outside of her oblivion-like dream.

  For a long time, she ran. Time was an illusion; non-existent, something of the mind but not in being. It was useless as she ran, tirelessly and continuously. There was no need to stop—Eliza couldn’t feel anything other than the breathlessness in her chest. She just needed to run.

  She tripped, foot catching on the edge of something hard. Eliza tumbled to the ground, landing on a heap of recently dug-up earth, the substance cool and soft under her numb fingers. She didn’t dig at it. Eliza wasn’t curious as to what lay beneath her, but rather, what she had tripped on.

  Turning her head, Eliza squinted. The dark object jutted out from the ground, rectangular in shape, covered in moss and blood-red roses, the only colour in the Gods-awful dream. It stood out bright and crimson against the darkness of the protruding object she had tripped on. It looked like freshly spilt blood.

  With a shaky hand, Eliza pushed the moss and vines away, brushing away dirt and hard clumps of soil, outlining words with the tips of her fingers.