by Linsey Hall
Ares passed me, taking his seat on the far left side. Though he’d said he didn’t like to spend much time in this realm, he looked at home in his creepy throne.
Though I didn’t trust him, I really wished he was at my side right now.
“We want to know why you can walk in the Shadowlands,” Magisteria said. “That should be forbidden to one who isn’t among our allies.”
I shrugged. “No idea.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Ares said. “But first—a test to prove you are loyal.”
“To you?”
“Of course,” Magisteria said.
Hmmm. I wasn’t sure about that. What did loyalty entail? I wouldn’t hurt them, sure. But I also didn’t want to do their bidding. But I kept my mouth shut. Better to play it close to the vest.
“How do I prove that?” I asked.
“A task.” Doyen stood. “There is a treasure in a volcano at the far end of our realm. Use your skills to bring the treasure to us.”
“What kind of treasure?”
“You will see,” Magisteria said.
“I will accompany you,” Ares said. “To monitor your progress. I will help you until you reach the volcano, but then you are on your own.”
“Okay. I can handle that. But do you guys have any clues about what kind of treasure I’m looking for? This is pretty broad.”
Magisteria reached for the golden goblet she had been sipping from. She crooked her finger at me.
She was very impressed with herself, this one.
I approached, feeling her magical signature grow as I neared. It prickled and stung.
She handed me the goblet. “That is your clue.”
“Gold?”
“Of a sort.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’ll figure it out. But that is your only clue.”
“Fine.” I focused my dragon sense on the goblet, assuming they wanted more of the yellow metal. It shined brightly in the light of the moon, smooth and lovely. Though I didn’t consider gold to be treasure—that was reserved for plants, cars, and weapons—my dragon sense loved gold.
Stereotype City, population: me.
But it meant that it was much easier to find gold than anything else.
Where did you come from?
It took a moment, but my magic latched on. The familiar tug pulled from around my middle, dragging me to the right. To an area far away. Dozens of miles. Maybe a hundred.
“There’s more of this far away,” I said. “In that volcano, right?”
“Yes.” Ares stood. “I’ll transport us partway there. Now that we are within the realm, I can transport again. Once there, we begin.”
We. Until we reached the volcano and he ditched me. “Great. Let’s get this party started.”
I handed the goblet back to Magisteria, my fingertips itching as I handed it over. My dragon soul really didn’t want to part with it.
“I’m surprised by your enthusiasm,” Doyen said. “Only a fraction of the people who attempt our trials survive.”
“You underestimate me.” Still, fear shivered along my spine. I was brave, not stupid. But I wasn’t going to let this creepy chick see my fear. I turned to Ares. “Ready?”
“Absolutely.” He stood and turned to Doyen and Magisteria. “Until later.”
They nodded, then picked up their books. They were reading as we walked away, toward the woods, and, I assumed, a place to transport.
“Well, this will be fun,” I said.
He glanced down at me. “Don’t underestimate the challenges ahead.”
“Do you know what they are?” I followed him down the path we’d come, back through the statues lining the way.
“No. In situations like these, two of the court create the challenge. The third accompanies the initiate to observe progress.”
“Doesn’t that put you in danger?”
“It does, but that’s what this allyship entails. You are proving yourself, but we do the same. A partnership, of sorts. Both sides are at risk.”
“Interesting. But if many of the initiates don’t survive, yet you guys have been sitting pretty on your thrones for years… That means you step back if I get in a deadly situation.”
“It does.” He frowned. “At least, we’re supposed to. We cannot accept the weak or stupid into our numbers.”
We’re supposed to? Did that mean he didn’t want to step back if I ended up in danger? But he’d ditched me and sat on that throne.
I was clearly imagining things.
“You’ve sure got a nice throne,” I prodded.
He grimaced. “Tradition. Though Doyen and Magisteria like them very much.”
He turned to me. “Ready to transport?”
I stepped toward him and took his hand. A moment later, the ether sucked us in. My head spun as we were transported across his realm. When I felt solid land beneath my feet, I opened my eyes.
Shit.
The forest surrounding us was darker and creepier than the one we’d been in before, but the trees were just as huge. This time, though, the leaves were a dull, dark gray instead of silver. Something sick and dark lurked in the air, a black mist that hovered over the ground. The air was hot and cold at once, like currents were flowing on the wind.
It smelled of volcano, sulphur and heat, burning my nose.
“This place is nice,” I joked. “You come here often?”
Ares huffed a laugh. “No. It’s cursed. There is a Burtnieki—a wizard—who lives deep in the forest. He went mad long ago, and his magic turned dark. He holed up in a castle, but his magic has tainted this place.”
“Why did he go mad?”
“He fell in love with Laima, one of our goddesses of fate. He attempted to woo her, but she rejected him.”
I shrugged. “Fair enough. So she didn’t like the guy.”
“I agree. He’s rather…unlikeable.”
“Entitled, right? Then he got all obsessed and stuff?” It was a tale as old as time.
Annoyance glinted in Ares’s eyes. “Essentially. She tried to let him down easy, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Finally, she ended up predicting his fate publicly. That he would die alone and angry.”
“And she was right.”
Ares nodded. “Now he’s holed up in his castle, pissed at the world and polluting this forest with his malevolence.”
“Complaining that girls don’t like nice guys,” I muttered. Moron. Of course we liked nice guys. Who didn’t? There just had to be more. Like compatibility and intelligence and attraction. That spark.
Like what she felt with Ares.
Whoa, Nelly!
My horse was getting seriously off track. I shoved any attraction I felt for Ares into a deep, dark corner of my mind. “Let’s get a move on. This place is giving me the willies.”
Ares nodded. “Lead the way.”
I called upon my dragon sense, remembering the golden goblet. It tugged around my waist, pulling me through the forest.
The trees loomed all around as we walked across the spongy ground. The layer of gray leaves rustled underfoot, and the sound of buzzing night insects and cawing birds created a soundtrack that was distinctly Haunted Forest.
The dark mist that drifted around our ankles was chilly. In the distance, black snakes slithered around the bases of the trees, but they ignored us.
Still, their beady black eyes were nerve-racking.
I kept my gaze on the forest floor ahead. There was a trail of pounded dirt about twenty yards away.
“There,” I said. “That’ll take us.”
And get us away from the awful mist. I hated the way it—
The ground beneath me rumbled, shifting. I fell, but before I could hit my knees, something twisted around my ankles. Hard.
And pulled me to the ground.
Snakelike roots burst out of the earth, wrapping me in a cocoon that encapsulated my entire body. Every inch was covered, even my eyes. The roots began to squee
ze, compressing my lungs until I saw stars.
A scream burst from my lips, but it was no more than a whimper. I’d lost all my breath.
I thrashed, trying to break free. I couldn’t move an inch—not even my arms. Desperate, I conjured a blade. I strained, trying to slash at the roots. But it did no good. I couldn’t move an inch.
Panic flared in my chest as the roots squeezed tighter. Bark cut into my cheeks and neck. My vision blackened.
Let me go! I screamed inside my mind, compelled by something I didn’t understand. Release me!
At first, nothing happened.
And then slowly, the roots began to loosen. They slithered away like snakes, until I lay on the forest floor, stunned.
My vision returned after my first hard gasp of air. I sucked the sweet stuff into my lungs, scrambling to my feet. I kept my conjured dagger in my hand, just in case.
“Ares!” I whirled, searching.
He was fifteen feet away, fighting off roots like a whirlwind of speed and muscle. His shadow sword, which he must have drawn from the ether, flew left and right, slicing roots to pieces. A scatter of broken ones lay around him—he must have burst free with his ridiculous vampire strength. But the tree wouldn’t stop coming. Roots burst from the ground, lashing at him.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Now!”
Ares looked at me like I was nuts, his brows raised almost to his hairline, but the roots stopped attacking. They slipped back under the dirt like the Kraken returning to the depths of the sea.
Ares stepped forward, his gaze incredulous. “What the hell did you do?”
“I don’t know!” I searched the area, but all the roots were silent, far under the ground. The forest floor didn’t even look disturbed. “What kind of spell was that?”
“I don’t know. One of the wizard’s enchantments, perhaps.”
“That guy sure doesn’t want visitors, does he?”
“Apparently not. But how did you command the tree to stop its attack?” Ares approached, his brows drawn.
“I have no idea. Are you sure it was even me?” It had definitely been me.
And Ares was no dummy. “Of course it was you. Those roots burst off you like you were made of acid and stopped their attack as soon as you yelled.”
“I don’t know—” I wobbled, nausea filling my stomach with what felt like rancid oil. Ugh.
Ares stepped forward, steadying me. “Are you all right?”
I ignored the concern in his voice, trying to force the nausea away. “Yeah, yeah. Fine.”
“You’re white as a sheet. You’re not fine.”
“It’s nothing.” He didn’t know that I’d used my FireSoul power against the man who’d killed his friend Marin. That I’d stolen not only his secrets, but his Destroyer gift. I had to get a handle on it soon—and that meant practice—or I’d be in real trouble.
It’d only been two days, but the power was insistent. I had to learn to control it, or it would control me. The nausea was coming more often than it had been.
A bad freaking sign.
Fortunately, the nausea faded. I pulled away from Ares and shoved the hair off my face with my forearm, still clutching my conjured dagger. “Let’s go. I don’t want those roots to start up again.” I pointed to the path twenty yards away. “Let’s stay on the road.”
Ares gave me a long look, but nodded. His suspicion was clear—and so was the promise of a thorough questioning later—but at least he’d let me go for now.
He stowed his blade in the ether with a quick flick of his wrist, then turned and walked toward the dirt road. I joined him, kicking the gray leaves as I walked, trying to see if any tree roots were at the surface.
None. They’d fully retreated.
We made it to the wide dirt path without incident. Once, it might have provided a roadway for wagons or other vehicles. But that was long ago. Leaves blew across the dirt, and the whole thing felt abandoned. At least the creepy black mist stayed off the road.
We walked side by side down the road. I kept my ears pricked for any sound and my other senses alert for danger. Though unease chilled my skin, along with the soft breeze, the forest was silent.
For now, at least.
“A Burtnieki is a Latvian wizard, isn’t it?” I asked.
I’d read it in a book while sitting at the desk of Ancient Magic. At least, that was where I thought I’d learned it. That’s how I learned most things, anyway.
“It is. Though the vampire realm exists in the ether, another realm, we’re closest to the Baltic states. At least, our culture is.”
“That’s how you have your accent?”
“Yes. Not all vampires are from the Baltic states, but many are. My father was. My mother was Greek.”
“Hence the name Ares.”
“Exactly.”
Something red flashed at the corner of my eye. I twisted, but it had disappeared. “Did you see that?”
“Something red?”
“Yeah.”
“I caught a glimpse, but couldn’t tell what it was.”
“Weird.” I didn’t like unknown red things flying and lurking. I quickened my pace, glancing around as I walked. From the left, something caught my eye. I glanced over, just in time to see something large and red swoop through the trees. It was the size of a cow.
It shot high into the sky, too fast for me to make out any detail.
“They’re big,” I said, looking right. Another hovered high in the trees. “Birds?”
“No.” Ares’s eyes were wide with shock. “They’re Pūķis.”
“What the hell are Pūķis?”
But in that moment, one of the flying beasts swooped low and landed on the path with silent grace.
“Holy crap, that’s a dragon!” I stepped back, my heart thundering.
The dragon was made of fire—red and orange and flickering brightly. Its onyx eyes watched me.
“You call this a Pūķi?” I asked.
“Yes. Another Latvian creature. But no one has seen one in centuries.”
“Okay.” I drew in a steady breath and stepped toward the Pūķi, who sat still, his head tilted as he studied me.
Ares shot out an arm to stop me, but I pushed it aside. “Don’t stop me.”
“Careful. They bite. Hard.”
Slowly, I approached the Pūķi. Sitting on his haunches like this, he—or she—was taller than I was. Up close, I realized that I could see right through the beast’s chest. The flame flickered and flared, but it wasn’t solid. The dragon wasn’t on fire. It was fire.
They weren’t dragons in the traditional sense—those had died out long ago. But they were something like dragons.
Cass had some dragonet buddies that she’d found in Switzerland a few months ago. They showed up when she needed help. But they were the size of house cats.
This guy—he was big.
On instinct, I conjured an apple, then held it out to the Pūķi. The dragon leaned forward, sniffing delicately. Flame shot from its nostrils.
I laughed, jumping backward. The Pūķi huffed.
“Okay, okay.” I stepped forward. “Don’t burn me.”
The creature leaned its neck forward and nipped the apple out of my palm. Though the flame of his muzzle brushed my palm, it felt only warm.
“How did you know to feed the Pūķi?” Ares asked.
I shrugged, conjuring another apple for a second fire dragon that had landed next to the first. “Everyone likes a snack.”
“Especially Pūķis. Traditionally, they were house guardians and fed first at every meal.”
I looked at the two Pūķi that sat in front of me. “You guys had a good situation for yourselves, huh?”
They just blinked, but I assumed they understood me.
“Why did they leave their houses?” I asked.
“No idea. No one knows. We thought they were all dead. But they like you.”
I winked at the Pūķi. “It’s mutual, fellas.”
They huff
ed, a contented sound, and flame billowed from their noses. It blazed across my shirt. I jumped back, startled, but again, it didn’t burn.
“That didn’t hurt?” Ares asked.
“No.”
“Strange. Their flesh can be touched, though it looks like fire. But the flame from their nostrils? That’s actually fire.”
“Well it didn’t hurt me.” I looked at the Pūķi. “Will you be our bodyguards?”
They blinked, then pushed off the ground and hovered overhead.
“You can take that as a yes,” Ares said.
“Yeah.” I grinned, looking up at my new buddies.
This. Was. Awesome.
We set off down the road again, my new buddies flying above.
“I could get used to this.” I frowned. “But I suppose they can’t leave this realm.”
“No, they can’t. But you can visit them, once you are an ally.”
“So you think I’ll pass the tests?”
His gaze cut to me, unreadable. “I hope so.”
“Me too.” The alternative sucked.
Suddenly, the Pūķis zipped ahead, hurtling down the path. They landed in the middle of the road, a hundred feet down. By the time we reached them, they’d spread their wings to create a wall.
“You don’t want us to pass?” I asked.
They didn’t move.
“That’s a yes,” Ares said.
“No kidding.” I frowned at the Pūķis. “It’s dangerous past there, isn’t it?”
They didn’t nod, but it was clear from their eyes that it was. I didn’t know how I could read their intentions, but it was as natural as breathing.
“Well, I’m one badass bitch,” I said to the Pūķis. “So don’t worry about it. I’ve got to get to the volcano, and it’s down the road.” My dragon sense made that very clear. There was one way, and this was it. “But if you guys don’t like it, you don’t have to follow.”
They huffed in unison, a sound of resignation, then took to the air. But they didn’t fly away. Instead, they hovered over my head, flying along with us.
“It looks like you have your bodyguards,” Ares said.
“Yeah, but I hope they’ll be okay.” I didn’t like the idea of them going into a place that frightened them.
A hundred yards later, when a huge castle crested the horizon, it was clear what they were afraid of. The whole place was black, as if the stones and spires and flags had been covered in soot. Despite the bright light of the moon, it looked as if it were one with the dark night.