by AJ Nuest
And there it was. The flash of anger in her eyes that made him rock hard and aching to be buried inside her. “God, I can’t wait.”
He chuckled at her exasperated huff, wagging his brows at the sway of her perky ass as she marched off. His gaze landed on Grommel, and he eyeballed the Dregg from the tufts of its pointed ears to the deadly talons on its feet. This entire task force should have their heads examined. Too bad the crazy train had left the station sometime last week.
Closing the distance, he stared the creature straight in its bottomless blank eyes. “Don’t get any wise ideas.”
The Dregg snorted, wings rustling and snapping like sheets hung out to dry. Rhys turned his back to the creature and squinted as dust and dead leaves whipped into small tornadoes from the down stroke of six sets of veined wings.
A set of hairy hands grabbed his waist, and Rhys seized Grommel’s wrists. A bounce on his toes and the ground shrank beneath his feet.
Waves of nausea wadded in a tight ball as they shot into the sky, lodged under Rhys’ breastbone and stayed there. The tinny flavor of adrenaline flooded his mouth, and he jerked his knees to his chest as Grommel pin-wheeled right, skimming a notched parapet in the castle wall. “God dammit. You cut that a little close, don’t you think?”
A chuffing worked the bellows of Grommel’s lungs and Rhys scowled over his shoulder. What the hell was that supposed to be? A Dregg laugh?
He faced forward and his stomach screamed for his throat as they pitched at an eighty degree angle, dive-bombing the charred landscape. Rhys shook his head, jaw locked tight. The shithead was doing this on purpose.
Okay, if that’s the way he wanted it. Clearing his mind, Rhys pinpointed the nearest rock, envisioned his target and plunk! It bounced off the side of Grommel’s head.
The Dregg wavered on the wind, a growl showcasing his fangs, but the risk was worth the disorientation gurgling in Rhys’ gut. “Test me again, and I promise you’ll lose.”
Grommel snuffled his irritation, but leveled out, and the bile scorching the back of Rhys’ throat gradually sank like mercury inside a thermometer on a cold day.
Good. He filled his lungs and forced his body to relax, legs loose and swaying with each pump of Grommel’s wings. Winding tendrils of smoke snaked up from the ground. The bare branches of the lifeless trees clawed at the sky like in the aftermath of a nuclear explosion. Christ, what a mess. Based on the level of devastation, it would take years for the kingdom to get Gaelleod’s poison out of its system.
Ahead in the distance, one by one, the dark silhouettes of five jointed wingspans disappeared over the edge of the cliffs…just like they’d planned. Rhys rolled his shoulders, steeling his nerves for the dive, and shot a warning glower at the hairy monster behind him. The asshole better not test his luck by trying to shear off a layer of Rhys’ skin against that uneven wall. If they were doing this, they were doing it his way.
“Let’s take this nice and easy.” A salt-tinged breeze coasted over his cheeks as they closed in on the horizon. “Easy now.” The roar of the waves built beneath the rush of the wind in his ears. “Nice and smooth, and we’ll get this done so we can all go home.”
Grommel soared over the water and veered slightly left, wing tip slicing the air in a cool glide. Circling back to the group in a wide loop, he flapped once and approached their descent at a less vomit-inducing angle.
“Dude. That was awesome.” And Rhys meant it. That the Dregg had taken his comfort into consideration proved Grommel was capable of empathy. Good to know, considering that particular emotion had become something of a commodity these past few days.
The scenery from the ocean side of the cliffs left him speechless, and appealed to the aesthetic of Rhys’ artistic eye. A foamy rope of indigo water crashed in a violent spray against the jagged coastline. Veins of mica and iron ore glinted from between slabs of sheer white rock.
He had to admit, Faedrah’s country was beautiful and, for the first time, something other than hatred for Leo twisted Rhys’ need to make sure he did everything in his power to save her kingdom. This place deserved to be preserved. For future generations. Hell, over time, he could even see himself loving it just as much as she did.
“Fall in behind them and watch the wall.” He pointed to the line of Dreggs soaring a few feet ahead and below. If the knot of anxiety in his gut was any indicator, the entrance to the tomb was gonna be a bitch to find. “Time to put on our game face.”
He kept his eyes peeled, scanning and rescanning the cracks and crevices as they flew north. Tears streamed back into his hairline and his eyelids grew sticky from the constant wind. Hours passed, the sky changing from mottled gray to an alien coral pink as the sun set somewhere beyond the thick layer of Gaelleod’s fog. On his right, the black water stretched into oblivion. To the left, the endless coastline unrolled like a frayed white ribbon. The muscles in his lower back ached from the cranked angle of Grommel’s grip and, still, nothing. Not one fucking clue to where his father had holed up underground.
Rhys dug his thumb and index finger into his eye sockets to clear the crusty residue from his lashes. Christ, they were completely screwed unless they somehow stumbled across a miracle. No matter how hard they looked, this was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Dropping his hand, he tipped his head side to side to stretch his neck, letting his eyes stay closed for a few seconds of rest. After staring at the same god damned wall for so long, everything was blurry anyway. Coupled with the fading light, his vision wasn’t doing him a whole hell of a lot of good.
He paused. Now there was a thought. Maybe his blurry vision wasn’t the problem. Maybe the problem was he’d been using the wrong sense from the start.
Faedrah had called the tomb a crystal crypt. Since quartz was a mineral… He jerked.
Fuckin-ay, he had a sixth sense at his disposal.
Lowering his chin to his chest, he envisioned a wide beam shooting from his mind, a searchlight tuned in on the mineral composition of quartz. The screen behind his eyelids remained an empty slate, but he tried again, widening his focus just like Fandorn had taught him.
Amethyst…citrine…diamond… The nerves along the back of his head lit up like a Christmas tree, and he grunted. Typical. Leo was the only one with balls big enough to encase himself in the hardest, most expensive substance known to man. Not that it mattered. Now that Rhys had found him, the miserable son of a bitch was done.
Jamming his index finger and thumb into his mouth, he blew a piercing whistle. The tomb was half a mile behind them. Maybe less.
The Dreggs wheeled around and he circled his fist in the air before waving everyone back the way they’d come. Squinting into the increasing darkness, he followed the radar blip in his head, then growled and smacked his fist against his thigh as the route dead-ended straight into the cliffs. Not that he’d expected a welcome mat and doorbell, but come on!
He blew another quick whistle to snag Fandorn’s attention and jabbed a finger toward the area. “Light it up!”
An orb of wizard’s fire expanded in the wizard’s hands and streaked across the sky. Rhys blinked to clear the iridescent trail imprinted on his vision as the ball exploded and crackled like a fourth of July firework against the white rock.
Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he gripped Grommel’s wrist, leaning into the turn as the Dregg veered left. The heavy beat of its wings stirred the air as they closed in, whooshing like the huge bellows inside the smithy. Inching along the cliffs, Rhys cocked a brow as a set of worn, uneven steps appeared carved in the stone, leading smack-dab to a wide flat ledge. The opening to the crypt sparkled and glinted in the fading light, hidden inside an outcropping that jutted toward the water and curled in on itself like a set of gnarled fingers.
That sneaky bastard. Leo had created the perfect optional illusion to camouflage the entrance.
Rhys scanned the terrain for whatever could’ve caused the movement, but came up empty. Most likely, it had
been some sort of animal, startled by Fandorn’s fire. And with night approaching, it was best everyone come in for a landing before risking a broken arm or leg in the process. “Set me down.”
The gravity under his boots was every bit as welcome as the release of the strain on his back. Grommel peeled off into the night and Rhys stepped aside to make room for the rest of their party, his arms itching for Faedrah’s soft curves, to have her pinned against him, safe and sound, in one piece.
The second her feet touched ground, she rushed forward, grabbed his cheeks and kissed him square on the mouth. “How ever did you find it?” She tossed her arms around his neck and hung on tight. “Goddesses’ tits, I believed our cause was lost.”
He smirked, opened a palm behind her and, exerting a push, caught a large yellow diamond as it snapped off a formation near the entrance and dropped into his palm. “Diamonds.” She released him and he offered the gem to his muse. “Once I zeroed in on them, the place lit up like a neon sign in my head.” Her brows crumpled in confusion, and he chuckled. “Like the lights with no flame in my world.”
“Ah.” She handed the diamond back to him and he hesitated before tossing it over his shoulder. Sure, a rock that size would be worth a pretty penny, but he wasn’t about to decorate any part of Faedrah’s body with something his father had created.
“Well…” He glanced around the group, all tugging on their clothes and checking their weapons were still secure. “Might as well get this party started.”
Fandorn rapped the bottom of his staff against the ledge and the knot of wood at the top sizzled and snapped before settling to the bright glow of a halogen light bulb. Slipping the folded map out from under the rope tied around his waist, he shook it open and offered the parchment to Rhys. “After you, my boy.”
Wonderful…but not surprising. Rhys waved off the sketch. He didn’t need a piece of paper to tell him where to go. The route was still embedded in his brain, and his better option would be to watch every step. One slip, and he’d officially become the expendable crew member in this landing party.
With a nod toward the rest of the group, he faced the entrance and stepped inside.
The dense void of outer space swallowed him whole, until Fandorn entered behind Faedrah and the light from his staff refracted off the gems in the narrow passage like laser beams.
Rhys blinked to adjust to the bright light and then froze, frowning down at the crystalline dust coating the path in a layer of white powder. Fresh boot prints led off into the distance.
Shit, he’d been wrong. He leaned left then right, peering ahead into the dwindling shafts of light for sign any of movement. That hadn’t been an animal scampering along the cliffs. Someone was in here with them. “We’ve got company. Everyone keep on your toes.”
A string of silver chimes sang against the walls, pinging down the tunnel and vibrating the diamonds in a whining distortion. He slumped and pivoted toward the group—Vaighn, Faedrah, her mom, dad and Denmar all equipping themselves with some sort of weapon.
Really? Rhys lifted his brows. Why not just get an air horn? Then maybe they could all do the wave like the crowd at a football game.
Vaighn glanced over his shoulder at the king and queen before refocusing on Rhys. “What?”
“Nothing.” Idiot. Rhys sighed and started them down the path. So much for the element of surprise.
Though the going was dicey in some spots—the precious rubble like casters under their boots made it easy to slip or twist an ankle—navigating the trail wasn’t the biggest hurdle, even in the tight crevices where the breathing room got a little thin. The map in his head remained clear as day and, even better, the welcoming committee had laid out each step. There wasn’t any guesswork involved as they approached the gaping chasm and Rhys eyed the glittering bridge comprised of one solid, mind-blowing diamond. While the surface was slicker than shit and measured barely half a foot wide, crossing it didn’t even work up a sweat. He placed each boot on the print left in the diamond dust and told everyone else to play follow the leader.
The same was true once they’d all made it to the other side and had to shimmy beneath a monolithic overhang that protruded from the cave like a fucking glacier. As long as the group mimicked his motions and stayed hot on his heels, his position as point man suited just fine.
The only pisser was, asking as much was fucking impossible. The diamonds were razor sharp, and—surprise, surprise—the entire place had evidently been constructed using some sort of spell. One wrong move…the snag of a cloak or the smallest misstep and someone invariably tipped sideways, slicing an arm or a leg or the inside of their palm as they braced themselves against the wall.
If that didn’t twist his ʼnads enough, the powdery dust was littered with needle-like slivers. If anyone so much as skimmed a section of exposed skin against any surface or, worse yet, inhaled too deep, the outcome could be like burying their face in fiberglass.
Rhys did what he could to make the route less hazardous, melting the biggest shards to a rounded nub or shoving them aside altogether, but just about the time the last of their crew inched through a section behind him, all his work disappeared.
It was like trekking through a living, breathing geode. One that enjoyed fucking with them every step of the way. Each gasp made his muscles tighter. Every curse cranked his anger another notch hotter. They needed to move fast and, at the same time, asking Faedrah’s family to hurry up was like handing them a death sentence.
By the time he jumped down from the last tunnel into the central chamber, Rhys was coated in a layer of shimmering sand. It grated between his fingers and the bend inside his elbows, but he resisted brushing off his arms. The itchy grit would most likely turn his skin into hamburger.
The ledge around the perimeter sloped to a spike-infested pit, the diamonds gradually descending from white to yellow, then green, blue, violet and down to indigo—a lethal sunset that darkened to a midnight sky filled with glittering stars. Low in the center, stretched from the roof to the floor, a thick black column braced the cave like a faceted chrysalis. A bizarre white light pulsed inside, each thrum vibrating through his body, drilling into his head and pressing against his chest like a gong.
That black cocoon had to be where Gaelleod slept…the repeating flash his heartbeat…but not for long.
A quick scan of the dark corners for their absentee host, and Rhys turned to help Faedrah off the high ledge. He nearly popped a vessel at the networked slashes peeling back the tight fit of her leather suit, each one showcasing a seeping red scrape running helter skelter along her arms and legs. Denmar toted a nice-sized gash over his leather eye patch and Vaighn’s loose sleeves hung shredded down his arms.
Fuck, what a disaster. The only upside was, this far under, the temperature was cold enough to slow the bleeding, and all Rhys needed was five minutes, more or less. There was no need to get close. A few well-placed fissures, a hard shove and that column would tumble like a house of cards.
After that, he could use the biggest shards to skewer Gaelleod in his bed. Seemed appropriate, considering all they’d been through to get here.
“Let’s do this and get the hell outta Dodge.” Diamond bits rasped under his boots as Rhys pivoted toward the resonating pillar and Fandorn stepped to his side.
Rhys closed his eyes, centering his focus on the mineral components of the black diamond. The walls of the cave shuddered. A loud crack split the ceiling and diamonds rained down like jagged hail. Lifting his hands, he splayed his fingers and pressed harder, using the droning vibrations to burrow deeper, his mind’s eye following the path of each zig-zagging fracture down to the source.
A creepy chuckle built in volume, bouncing around the ceiling like some corny Halloween soundtrack. The folds of Fandorn’s robes whispered as he closed in and seized Rhys’ wrist. “Cease.”
He yanked back his power, lowering his hands. Rocks tumbled, shimmering stones clacking against each other as they bounced and rolled into the pi
t. Vaighn inched forward, sword drawn, followed by Denmar and the king.
Rhys turned one ear to the buzz of dead air and glanced around the walls. Evidently, whoever was in here with them had finally decided to make an appearance.
“Continue on this course, Wizard, and you shall die.”
Rhys cocked a brow. Like hell. If he didn’t continue then they would all die. He squinted into the shadowed crevices, waiting, but nothing moved. “The only people who are gonna die here today are Gaelleod and whoever you might be, unless you hightail it outta here PDQ.”
Another laugh danced around the cave, filled with a calculating awareness that tingled the hair on Rhys’ arms. “You are the son of my master, are you not? Born centuries afield and returned to this realm through the veil?”
Shit, who was this dude? And how the hell did he know anything about Rhys’ life?
“And the lovely Faedrah. Daughter to the bastard king and his prophesied white queen. Heir apparent to the Austiere throne and Keeper of the Key. My, how you’ve grown into a reigning beauty.”
All right, that does it. Every muscle in Rhys’ body tightened. The dickwad had just crossed the line.
A deep growl built in the king’s chest, and he stomped forward, white-knuckling the hilt of his sword like he was itching to take a swipe. “Show yourself, minion. Let us stare our enemy in the eye before the killing blow of our vengeance is delivered.”
Genuine humor saturated the next evil laugh. “You speak of retribution for a kingdom so easily granted. A reign as king that should have never been yours.” The flutter of a dingy cape caught the corner of Rhys’ eye, and he snapped his head to the left. “The Austiere Kingdom is mine, brother!”
A hunch-backed figure lurched from behind the black tower of Leo’s tomb. The king stumbled back a step. An ear-splitting clang reverberated against the walls as Vaighn dropped his sword. “F-father?”
Son of a bitch. Rhys sized up the misshapen lump of flesh previously known as Braedric Austiere. Faedrah had told him some of the story surrounding Vaighn’s dad. The rest had been filled in by whispers he’d overheard at the castle. Christ, this was the last headache they needed. Evidently, Gaelleod wasn’t the only zombie featured in this night of the living the dead.