The Golden Key Chronicles

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The Golden Key Chronicles Page 25

by AJ Nuest


  His eyes slammed shut. Pride and awe inundated his soul even as resignation swilled in his gut. He should have known her duty would take precedence over any fear she harbored regarding her own wellbeing. She was prepared to do what was right, and the strength of her bravery left him humbled.

  “You ride nowhere alone. We face the unknown together. Always and forever together.”

  She dropped a kiss to the crown of his head before turning her cheek to his hair. “There is one last thing.”

  His shoulders fell. For all the tits in heaven, what was she on about now?

  He tipped his chin back, meeting the defiant glint in her gaze, and cocked an eyebrow.

  “That rat bastard Gaelleod? His head is mine.”

  Chapter Six

  “A chance yet remains this preparation could all be for naught.”

  Rowena double-checked the springs on her wrist blades before retracting her daggers in place. Caedmon was right. Even though it seemed only a few days had passed, the Dreggs had warned her before entering the cave—the gloaming of the goddesses was deceitful. Once she and Caedmon stepped outside, they might find one or even several seasons had passed in their absence. “The timing doesn’t matter. If what you think is true, without me, Seviere could have never opened the chest. And I’d place bets that asshole Gaelleod still has the key.”

  A sigh heaved Caedmon’s shoulders, the third or fourth since she’d begun her search of the cave for anything she could use to replace her weapons. All in all, she’d made out pretty well. The decorative wooden box she’d located contained a delightful array of etched silver throwing stars, as sharp as death and nested in a padded, velvet frame. Small knives had been scattered about in ample supply. The only things she couldn’t find were silver spikes but, after a quick rustle through an elaborate trunk, she’d unearthed a pouch of long, ivory hair pins. Though a bit yellowed with age, they were polished as sleek as silk and honed to a finely pointed tip.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and inserted the first of eight into her chest plate. The jeweled ends jutted over her breasts, but if a person didn’t know any better, they would most likely assume the makeshift spikes were merely some sort of elaborate decoration.

  The pensive rut that had formed between Caedmon’s brows ever since they agreed to go after the key remained embedded in place. In fact, with each passing moment, it deepened. She shook her head. It seemed the longer they prepared to follow through on their quest, the more he realized the utter hopelessness of their success, and the harder he struggled to keep his objections at bay.

  He worked his head through the collar of a leather chest plate and shrugged until the little buckles on either side sat centered on his shoulders. A fragile rainbow winked off the gold armored medallions affixed to the pecs. The crest of a fierce griffon, wings extended and tongue lashing the air, guarded his torso. Yet the way the muscles along his jaw continuously tensed and released, she was surprised pulverized tooth enamel didn’t coat the air with his next heavy breath.

  She offered a tiny smile of encouragement and stepped closer to tighten and tie the leather laces down his side. Crackling tension hummed off his body and permeated straight into hers. Her lips firmed as her own sigh of frustration flared her nostrils. Sure, they were bound to face troubles ahead, but assuming the worst before they even got started wouldn’t do either of them any good. “You need to stop worrying.”

  He grunted. “My worries shall cease the moment you desist on this foolhardy errand.”

  She rounded his stiff back and cinched the laces his other side, securing the ends in a hard slipknot. “You’d prefer I scurry off and hide somewhere like a scared little girl?”

  “I would prefer to maintain your safety, as is my duty as your husband.”

  Yeah, only one thing wrong with that statement. “Except, we’re not married yet.”

  His head snapped over and he squinted, pinpointing her within the razor-sharp scrutiny of his gaze. Her knees involuntarily locked, the agitation sizzling off of him so charged with the metallic tang of a lightning strike, it lifted the hair on her arms. “Our lives are bound to each other, are they not?”

  She nodded, not daring to blink. Hot damn, the man was sexy when he was pissed. All rock-solid muscle and edgy intensity, shoulders tight and fingers flexing as though he were ready to pounce.

  The thick waves of his ebony hair swung forward as he bent at the waist and snatched a pair of black leather vambraces off the floor. “The exchange of vows before witnesses is merely a formality. In my heart, you are my wife.”

  And he was all hers. Joy surged through her heart and lofted her higher than the uppermost peaks of the castle. A smile burst free. Yes, it seemed right they were married. Here, in the Cave of Tears. A cathedral devoid of time, sought after by so many for its divine blessings.

  She narrowed her eyes and tipped her head to the side. Still, it would be nice if everyone else in the kingdom knew of their commitment to each other. Especially those nattering matrons of the court, not to mention their blushing young daughters of eligible age. Those girls had flirtation down to an art.

  A flash of Caedmon, corralled by an obnoxious gaggle of giggling maidens at his homecoming celebration, ignited a spark of jealousy that flamed up her neck. “I’d still like for us to have a wedding. Hell, I’ll even let Marcelene strap me into a dress.”

  The sharp glance he darted at her could’ve cut glass. “Strapping you into finery has never been my objective. I shall, however, gladly submit to whatever agonizing frivolity that devious mind of yours can concoct should you cease in this madness to ride straight into death!”

  She slumped, grabbed his wrist and tugged his arm close to secure the ties of his vambrace. Certainly Caedmon’s concerns for their safety were warranted, but his protective nature had also clouded his judgment. “Gaelleod’s a smart guy, right?”

  He shifted his stance, nodding. “Without question.”

  “He’s spent the last hundred years, maybe longer, with one goal in mind.” Fingers nimbly tightening the slack, she jerked the laces down the length of his forearm, knotted the cords and moved to the second vambrace.

  “To unlock the chest.”

  “Right.” Last knot firmly in place, she seized Caedmon’s hands and squeezed his fingers. “What makes you think he’ll just suddenly give up? Sooner or later, he’s gonna figure out what those letters on the side of the key stand for, and when he does, what do you think he’ll do next?”

  Caedmon searched her face, the wheels of deduction spinning in his eyes, straight toward the inescapable outcome. Hatred slammed into his gaze. “He shall stop at nothing to seek you out. He will unearth every stone, wreak a path of destruction and raze the very gates of hell until he has you clutched tightly to his chest.”

  “Exactly.” She arched a challenging brow. “Wouldn’t you rather we meet him on our terms? Save all those lives and attack while the element of surprise is still in our favor?”

  He rolled his eyes and then nodded a second time. “Yes, my lady.”

  “Well, so would I.” She released him and withdrew a step to plait her loose hair into a snug braid.

  Caedmon nudged the toe of his boot through the various items at their feet, pocketing a blade here, a bag of coin there. He’d already agreed once they returned to Castle Austiere, they would make it a priority to recompense the Dreggs for the supplies. In the meantime, in case she and Caedmon needed to buy a night’s lodging—or someone’s silence—it would be smart to have the means on hand.

  Something finally seemed to catch his attention and he leaned down to untangle a small curved blade from a strand of pearls. She bound the ends of her hair with a leather cord and then frowned when he plucked her braid off her shoulder. What was he doing?

  He embedded the knife just above the cinched tie, the jagged edge facing outward, backed a few paces away and twirled his finger in the air. “Spin.”

  Oh, how clever. She executed a quick pivot on
the toe of her boot, ending in a low crouch, one leg extended. The whip of her hair sliced the air. Anyone within striking range would risk serious injury. And, what’s better, they wouldn’t have clue until it was too late. She grinned and stood, nodding her approval. “Kick ass.”

  Caedmon huffed and continued his perusal, strolling the walls of the cave as he stuffed odds and ends into his pack, a length of rope, an extra blanket.

  Only one last thing needed her attention. Rowena tugged an empty water skin from her bag and dipped the uncorked end into the Pool of Tears. One could never be too careful, and the healing water was an extravagance they couldn’t afford to dismiss.

  Water glugged into the neck and, once the bubbles ceased, she corked the end, stood and shouldered her pack. “Ready?”

  “Nearly there.”

  Oh, good grief. What could they have possibly forgotten? She closed the distance between them and peeked over Caedmon’s shoulder.

  A whirl of his body and he scooped an arm around her waist, hoisting her flush to his chest. His lips captured hers—hungry, desperate. The tip of his tongue flicked and teased until her head fell back on her shoulders and the ground reeled off-kilter beneath the toes of her boots.

  Knees weak, spine bowed, arms dangling like limp ropes down her sides, she closed her eyes as he made love to her mouth. Over and again, he drank from her lips, tipping his head as if the taste of her beheld some savory meal. His hard thigh eased between her legs. His hand slid down to cup and squeeze the curve of her bottom. Arousal coiled and heated in her lower belly. All thoughts of danger and evil wizards melted beneath the fiery licks of bliss.

  His kisses slowed and, with a slight nip to the corner of her lips, he withdrew, returning her properly to her feet. “Now we may leave.”

  “Y’okay.” She nodded, the unfocused walls of the cave casting rainbow sprites before her eyes.

  What key? If the man ever wanted to win an argument, all he had to do was kiss her like that. Her feet tangled and she stumbled into his unyielding shoulder as he turned for the entrance.

  “Sorry.” She cleared her throat, adjusting her satchel. “Sorta lost my bearings there for a second.”

  He smirked and clasped her hand, leading them from an idyllic dream into reality.

  Her dopey grin refused to be beaten into submission, even when they crossed the threshold and three large Dreggs fell to their knees, heads bowed.

  “Hey, guys.” She stepped around Caedmon, ignoring his insistent tug on her fingers. He finally released her and inched half his body in front of hers, as if hoping to defend her in case the Dreggs decided to do something rash. Then again, the last time he’d been conscious in their presence, they’d kidnapped and carted him off to Castle Seviere. He was bound to be a bit sketchy.

  But, wait. Hold on a second…

  She frowned, scanning the tops of the Dreggs’ heads, their hairy shoulders and necks. These were the same three that had flown her and Caedmon to the Cave of Tears. At least, based on the bone necklaces hanging down their chests, they were the same three. Had they been waiting outside the cave this entire time?

  Or maybe the length of their attendance wasn’t the question. Apprehension tingled her fingertips. “How long since we entered?”

  The leader lurched to his feet, gangly arms hanging open at his sides in a display of deference, pointed talons grazing the ground. “Heliosss isss not yet cccentered in the sssky, Caaandraah.”

  Yeah, so? Big deal. The sun had only just risen when they first got…here…

  Shock propelled her to grab Caedmon’s arm and step around him a second time. “You mean it’s the same morning?”

  The Dregg leader tipped his head back, nostrils quivering as he sniffed the moist breeze. “The goddesssessess blesss your purpossse, Ssscinlæce.”

  “Well that’s just…it’s just…”

  “Impossible,” Caedmon snapped. “Believe not one syllable whence festers on these vile creatures’ tongues. Devils and fiends, the whole lot of them.”

  Eerie shrieks splintered her eardrums and she winced against the needling drone vibrating her jaw. One of the Dreggs leapt to his feet, leathery wings expanding like an ominous black shroud. She glared at Caedmon, tightening her hold on his arm. Forget waging war against Gaelleod. If he didn’t get a grip on his anger, they wouldn’t even escape this forest alive. “Forgive him. A group of your kind attacked his garrison without provocation. Because of their actions, he endured two years within Seviere’s dungeons.”

  He wrenched his arm free from her grasp and aimed a thick finger at the Dregg leader. “And due their interference, Gaelleod is now in possession of the key.”

  A large paw streaked across her vision. The chittering shriek abruptly ceased as the Dregg leader loosed a snarl and backhanded his subordinate, sending the creature sprawling into the trees.

  His head slowly swung back to face Caedmon. “Defectorssss attack. Thossse who no longer ssserve the goddesssesss.”

  She squinted. What was he implying? A group of rogue Dreggs was out flying around somewhere? Well, that didn’t seem right. Based on the small interaction she’d shared with them, they seemed fiercely loyal to their religion, unwavering in their belief of prophecy. What could have possibly made a group break from the rest and go rogue? “If they no longer serve the goddesses, to whom have these defectors sworn their allegiance?”

  “The sssoverign of your Aussstiere realm. Princcce Braedric.”

  “Another foul lie!” The chime of deadly silver sang against the trees as Caedmon tore his sword from the scabbard and lunged.

  “Then prove it!” Flinging her arms wide, Rowena leapt into his path. Whether or not this Dregg spoke true remained to be seen, and the only way to confirm such an accusation was through the strength of his actions. Though the idea of Braedric instigating Caedmon’s abduction seemed fitting enough, this was the first evidence they’d received he was in league with Seviere. And while she would never force her prince to believe the worst of his half-brother, to outright dismiss the Dregg’s claims could be a mistake they would live to regret.

  They’d left her no choice.

  She searched the faces of the creatures before her, their obsidian eyes inscrutable as stone. No magic flowed in her veins. Spells and incantations fell mute on her false tongue. Yet if adversaries who could harm her prince were being called to arms, she would not be denied the chance to rage against them. And if fulfilling her role as their sorceress earned her this right then, by damn, that’s exactly who she would be.

  She pointed at the largest Dregg, feigning an imperial tone so often used by the king. “You there. What is your name?”

  The creature bowed low, his sinuous tail flicking and slicing the air. “I am Reddeck, your Radianccce.”

  She swung her hand wide to encompass the forest. “And you lead this clan?”

  “Yesss, Caaadrahhh.”

  “Well, then, lead them. Stand mighty against your defectors. If your kind still serves the goddesses, then prove your loyalty by swearing fealty to me, the Candra-scinlæce whom the nine have blessed.”

  The rustle of leathery wings, and a current of musty air buffeted her cheeks. The ground shook as Reddeck’s clawed hands tamped the soil. With an undulating roll of his spine, he lifted his pointy chin. His maw gaped open and she clamped her hands over her ears when his ghostly screech pealed skyward. A moment later, a rumble of otherworldly thunder echoed on the horizon. A swirling black screen shot straight up from the spiked branches of the barren trees.

  Her jaw dropped in shock. Helios wept, what had she done? Dreggs. Hundreds… Thousands of them. Like a massive black stain they bled into the sky. An army so vast it nearly blotted out the sun.

  Sweet tits, she’d been wrong. Reddeck wasn’t the largest. Not by a long shot.

  Caedmon cursed and seized her shoulder, wrenching her backward several steps toward the cave. “Stand prepared. They come.”

  The earth trembled in distress as they landed
, death on veined wings arrowing down from above. The tinny bite of fear exploded on her tongue but she held firm, tossing her shoulders back and meeting them eye for soulless black eye. No good would come from running, and the idea of trying fight through their numbers was ludicrous.

  When the last of them pounded soil, the leader turned to her and bowed, his ears twitching at each fold of a leathery wing. “Darknessss yieldsss to light, Caaandrahhh. Our legionsss are yoursss to command.”

  Oh. Well shit, that was unexpected. Not to mention she had a hard time getting Gertie to listen to her instructions, much less an entire legion of feral Dreggs.

  Regardless, one thing, above all, had been made abundantly clear. These deadly creatures had just drawn a line in the sand.

  A quick glance at Caedmon and he lifted his brows, sword in hand, his muscles coiled and tight. “Do not bid my counsel. You invited them here.”

  Right. She smoothed her hands down the front of her chest plate, tossed her braid over her shoulder and cleared her throat. Refuting such a dramatic display of devotion would serve no purpose but to insult them. At the very least, she must acknowledge their commitment to the cause. “Thank you, Reddeck. Your faithfulness shall not go unrewarded.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the north. “Now, for starters, Prince Caedmon and I need a lift. We fly for the realm of Seviere.”

  Chapter Seven

  Slipping beneath the jagged spires of the portcullis had been easy…almost too easy given the alarming location of Castle Seviere.

  When two of the Dreggs first transported them close to the castle, Rowena’s hopes had plummeted over her and Caedmon’s chances of breaching the walls undetected. The entire fortress sat on a monolithic slab of granite, centered immediately on the lip of a wide rushing waterfall. Only two narrow roads led inside—one spanning from the east, the other from the west—their thick arched columns planted in the water like the expansive teeth of a god’s comb. No matter which direction an enemy attacked—by land, sea or air—Seviere’s army would see them coming for miles, and could make ready the appropriate defense.

 

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