by Meagan Hurst
The Shade began to pace. “Worse, I think I preferred it when she was being stalked by the Dragon; she would already be well.” Crilyne’s lips twitched with suppressed, but disgusted, amusement. “He asked you to watch after her, didn’t he?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m not lacking basic observation skills,” Crilyne said irritably. “I went to the clearing where Nivaradros died. You were there. You were present while he was dying. What did the two of you discuss if you didn’t speak of the only human who ever managed to survive Nivaradros? The only human he ever cared about?”
Well, so much for that secret. “Yes, I was there,” Shalion confirmed. “And yes, he asked me to watch over her. He didn’t want her to close herself off again. Apparently, he knew more about her than I suspected. He knew he was dying and he wanted someone to make sure she survived. I haven’t,” he added as his guilt surfaced, “done the best of jobs at that; feel free to remind me.”
“You did what you could,” Crilyne answered after a long pause. “You did more than most. Tell me this though, Shalion, will she move past the Dragon?”
He knew what the Shade wanted to hear, wished he could offer him that answer. “Unlikely,” Shalion told Crilyne as he tapped the arm of his chair. “She made her choice. Nivaradros was the only being she was willing to trust enough. She may accept others as friends—she already has—but the Dragon won the battle for her, and she can’t accept another. Not yet, possibly not ever.”
“Even for a human, she is too loyal.” Crilyne’s gaze turned outward, past the lands they currently were settled on. “I will take her back to the home she has claimed then. I should be able to enter it since it is hers. There, I will see if I cannot keep her alive. Here, I fear she will only grow weaker, and with her allies wanting to constantly check on her, my patience has faded. Since I am trying to avoid angering her, I believe the best course of action is to remove myself from an area where I am certain I will be moved to violence. The cave she has chosen to claim is easily defendable, and I believe she will be safest there. Once I assure her that, no, I did not remove her from a battle zone without permission.”
Shalion smiled. “She will demand to know that first,” he agreed. “Will I be able to contact you?”
“If you do so sparingly, yes.”
“Sparingly?”
“As in not every. Single. Minute. I have to specify this,” Crilyne added with a roll of his hard, black eyes, “because you will be tempted to. If her condition drastically changes, I will let you know. I find it annoying, pointless, and wasteful to remark on little to no changes. Especially given the fact it tends to bring out sharp tempers—as if the lack of improvement is a deliberate thing I am striving for.”
Shalion’s smile contained no warmth. “Understandable. I feel I should warn you though, my father and I are planning to retake our kingdom.”
“While she is unconscious? You may want her to stay unconscious then,” Crilyne remarked as his brows rose sharply. “If anything happens to either one of you she is likely to be livid, and if one of you dies, the survivor is going to have to face her wrath.”
“Undoubtedly. However, occasionally she has been likewise vexed with us when we chose to wait for her. If you don’t want me waiting for news, you will shove me towards my kingdom, happily sit back, and hope I get myself killed.”
“Except, if you die, I will have to deal with her ire. My anger has not caused my intelligence to vanish. If anything happens to you, and Zimliya finds out we had this conversation—and it’s her, so she will—she will have my hide.”
“You make her sound vindictive.”
“She can be when someone lacks the sense to prevent someone else she cares about from doing something possibly suicidal. Unless, of course, that person is a human. Then they are perfectly allowed to kill themselves. She calls it ‘natural culling.’”
Shaking his head at the thought, Shalion chuckled. “Alright,” he said as he held up his hands. “We will wait a month or so, but no longer, Crilyne. If she hasn’t woken by then, we will move forward with our plans. We are tired of being exiled, and exhausted from dealing with other immortals.”
“As am I. I am not bothering to inform anyone else that I am taking Zimliya. Nor will I. I leave that announcement in your capable hands. If you are concerned for your health, I would advise taking to your shadowland and contacting everyone from there. No one outside of your father can reach you there, after all.” Crilyne turned and headed towards the tent flap. “We will be in touch.”
About This Series
I hope you enjoyed reading the second book in the Journey of an Arbais Mage series, The Price of Survival. If you have just stumbled onto this series, welcome, and I will politely point you in the direction of the first book, When the Kingdom Falls. If this is your second adventure with Z, thank you for continuing the series, and I hope it was worth the wait.
For anyone who is a fan of the series, I would like to ask that you take the time to leave a review, either on Amazon or Goodreads, or tell friends and family about the series as recommendations go a long way in this market.
Also, if you’d like to stay in the loop with news about the series and any other possible projects I am working on, you can find me at www.authormeagannhurst.com
Acknowledgements
I offer my heartfelt thanks to my family and friends for their support through yet another work in progress. I stress, during the revision and editing process far more than I do while actually writing the story down for the first time. I am therefore honored and humbled that they put up with me.
I am also grateful for the assistance my editor, Mia, provided which allowed this novel to make it into the wild.
And, so they don’t feel left out, I should thank my critters: Tessa, Ziva, and Allie who were all so very helpful in sitting on the keyboard while I was working. Nothing is more helpful that a hundred random letters being inserted in the middle of the story while I briefly leave the computer unprotected.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events have no existence outside of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances are entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Meagan Hurst
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the publisher, subject line “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.
[email protected]
About The Author
Meagan Hurst is an avid reader of fantasy, and the occasional series or novel outside of her favorite genre. She has been working with horses for over two decades and has a background in several disciplines. She lives in Colorado with her cats, who undeniably rule the house, and she will happily talk about horses or books for hours if given the chance.