As their camp, at last, came into view, she swiftly strode to her tent, not granting Memphis a goodnight. Not wanting either man or beast to catch the flicker of fear in her eyes. Collapsing onto the ground, closing herself in darkness, the beennighe’s promises cast her heart in an iron cage. They would all meet their end; she wasn’t naïve. But even her warrior heart faltered at the knowledge that she was on borrowed time already. They all were.
She would follow through with her instructions. They would rally their soldiers. They would win over the raiders’ clans. Then, she would bring Memphis to Emory. To save or to condemn, Nyx wasn’t sure.
Unsheathing her blade once more, gripping the hilt hard, the cold metal bit through her clothes reassuringly. She would never go down without fighting. Never. The knife reassuringly in her grip, sleep found her fast and true, and as she entered the world of dreams, reality slipped away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emory
Riona’s chuckle was dark, echoing around Emory as her face slammed onto the slippery deck. Riona trilled next, practically skipping around her, “Again.”
Blood filled Emory’s mouth, the bruise already starting to flower. Shakily, she stood up, her gaze naturally drifting over to him, Brokk’s shadowed eyes lingering on her.
It had been three days of crossing the Black Sea, and her schedule had a regimented sense to it: Sleep. Wake up. Train. And then she was left alone with her thoughts, her theories, and fears. Brokk was her shadow, distant, she could feel the tension building between them.
Clenching her jaw, she ran, lunging, swinging Ainthe powerfully down, jumping as Riona sliced at her legs. Smiling, they danced, their bodies bending to speed and reaction. The afternoon was surprisingly hot; sweat dripped down her nose as she ducked, Riona swearing colorfully. Emory’s hope surged as embers sparked at the end of her blade, causing a second of distraction, as the blacksmith took in the flare of ancient magic.
Tapping the back of her calf lightly, she made a fake slicing motion. Emory said, “Got you.” Bowing low, she caught the flicker of challenge in the woman’s eyes.
“Next step, with abilities.” Riona looked away, “Foster, you’re going first.”
Stepping back, Emory sheathed her sword in one motion. Months ago, she would have balked. Would have called them crazy. Months ago, Emory would have never imagined her body slowly toning to the weight of the blade, becoming stronger as she pieced the truth together, her story becoming clearer. She would have never imagined how much of herself she would have to sacrifice. How much of herself she had given up, had allowed to become broken.
Taking a deep breath, she passed Brokk. The energy crackled between them as she caught his eyes, a question in them.
Pressing her lips into a thin line, she leaned against the rail, looking up to a smiling Kiana at the wheel. Steadying herself as the planks shuddered, Emory turned and took in the massive golden wolf before her. His lustrous fur shimmered in the light, inky claws clinking across the panels as he circled Riona. Riona smiled, deep and true, and not for the first time, Emory was lost in the wondrous power these immortals had.
Swiftly, Riona picked up her hammer that was resting behind her, swinging surely as the metal started to morph, the particles breaking in the after light, elongating and becoming spears before her eyes. Brokk balked, looking at the sharpened points, growling deeply.
“Annnnd, you’re dead,” Riona said again, triumphantly.
Shifting back, he asked, “That’s a fair fight?”
The particles soared back, reforming the hammer, her voice carrying on the wind. “Every enemy from here on out will never fight fair. We are going up against these Oilean and their king. Possibly this Marquis Maher. It’s time to dig deeper, Foster. Again.”
Tensing, Emory watched him chew over Riona’s words. Again, the metal broke away, cutting through the air, and he unsheathed his curved swords, lunging. No wolf. No talons. Just. Him.
Emory’s body reacted before her mind could catch up with her intention. Running, closing the space between them, her blood pounding, her breath stalling as she felt that molten rush through her. And black streaked down her arms, tracing her veins. All Emory could think of was to shield him, protect him. Palms searing, the energy expanded from her, this power she had stolen as ice exploded between them. Riona was wide-eyed on the other side as Emory stood, heaving, beside Brokk.
The spears that formed from Riona’s hammer soared through, dissolving to nothing more than dust as they shattered through her wall, the particles catching on the wind.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Never forget that we are more powerful united, that our abilities, together, will conquer them.”
Emory reached out with the power, the ice immediately turning to water, sloshing against the deck. Riona’s gaze lingered on Emory’s skin, eyes flicking between Emory and her necklace. Emory guessed Riona was piecing it together, slowly, what haunted her every waking moment.
Turning, Emory stated, “I’m done for today.” Staring out to the endless sea, she started to feel the adrenaline slow, the darkness recede. Paranoia clutched her that the immortal could see through her with ease, somehow sensing that Adair’s dark ability was at her disposal, trapped within her amethyst necklace.
“That was good, Princess. But I’m interested how you pulled it off. No one is that fast of a learner,” Riona called to her skeptically.
More footsteps sounded behind her.
“Lay off, Riona. That’s enough for today. We can’t achieve anything half dead. Let’s rest, okay? We are almost there.”
Brokk’s voice was soft, and annoyance flickered in Emory at his neutrality. Racing to the bow, the crisp sea salt spraying her face. The clouds rolled lazily above them, their creamy edges casting a comforting shield over the world and the inky waters. Strands of her hair tugged loose, tickling her cheeks and her neck, and she craved normalcy for a second.
She wanted to be back on Earth where she didn’t have to worry about being a princess. Where she wasn’t fighting for her throne or acceptance. But her reality was that here in this moment, she was just a girl on the edge of an adventure, craving the wildness in her soul, trying to understand her heritage, to know her past. To truly know who she was.
“Em.”
Her eyelids pressed together. Breathe. Her pulse thudded, and opening her eyes, Emory became lost in his golden gaze—lost within him.
She looked away, a small smile dancing on her lips. “Brokk. Fascinating training session.” Even to her, her voice sounded forced and on edge.
Shimmying closer, he stretched his arms out, staring at the sea. “You know I hate the open water. Scares the hell out of me.”
He caught her off guard. “Really? It doesn’t show.”
His scars stretched as he pretended to shiver. “When we were younger, I was fascinated with the ocean. Of wanting to see it, to cross it. My curiosity slowly turned into anxiety, my anxiety into fear as I got older. I’m not a strong swimmer. Fear of the ocean was too immense, and that itself turned it into a monster.
“I remind myself to not allow that single thing to rule me, though. It sounds like a small thing, but it’s not. It’s crushing to me. It took a long time to figure out that it’s okay to feel this. To own it. With more things than just the open water.”
Pursing her lips, she let loose a shaky breath. “Even when you feel suffocated?”
“Especially then. Em, please, let me in. Let me be there for you. I can’t begin to understand what you went through, but don’t shut me out. Don’t shut down.”
Her throat burned, as she looked to him, his willingness. His honesty. “I have done unforgiveable things...”
“You’ve made mistakes. We all have. But what matters is now. Not the paths we shouldn’t have gone down in our past. Not how things panned out in the Rebellion. We are here, and I can see your pain. I can see your heaviness. Let me share some of that weight, Em. We can’t win this war separated.”
Chewing on the inside of her lip, she stared at the rolling waves, her knees shaky from the days at sea.
“Sometimes, I feel like this is a beautiful dream. Distorted and foggy, but some people and places bring me slamming down into a memory. Into a feeling. Into a point of time that was obscure. But now, the thing I have been searching for my entire life has been turned into a nightmare.
“I have let the people closest to me down. I’m learning and harboring this ability, this power, and there are moments I am completely high on it. And it’s in those moments I see how you can get dragged under, get obliterated by the obsession to become more. And that terrifies me. But I swore to myself I would end him. No matter the cost. No matter what happened.”
Tears burned her eyes. “This world isn’t broken into a war of dark and light. Of weakness and power. It’s broken into obscurities, into perspectives of what must be demanded, and what is craved. What kind of queen am I, if I can’t navigate that in myself?”
His eyes were pure molten. Particles of sea salt stuck in his golden hair, strands of it having grown since last time she had seen him.
His lips pulled into a sly smile. “And what does your heart demand?”
Blankly staring at him like a fool, heat flushed deeply in her cheeks.
Chuckling, he shook his head, tilting his head toward the sun, soaking in the light. “Go rest, Em. And try not to forget that this will take time. But I’m behind you every step of the way—until the end, and then some.” His smirk transformed into a beaming grin as he walked away.
Her gaze trailed behind him, her mind running in circles. Sighing, Emory turned back to the Black Sea. “Is this what you felt, abandoning everything you knew?” The wind carried her whispers, envisioning her mother making the same journey a lifetime ago. Playing with her necklace, she frowned at the crashing of waves. Eventually, she made her way to her bunker, sending a silent plea out to any unseen forces that she would get some sleep.
***
Staring at the bottom of the bunker, Emory knew she was losing her mind. Her stomach clenched, growling fiercely, letting her know that the minutes had blurred into hours. Sleep eluded her, her skin stretching too tight as she felt the swelling and bruising there. Sitting up, her tongue felt thick, her joints sore, cursing Riona and her so-called training. Truly, she had questioned how much was therapeutic for the blacksmith to beat them senseless time after time. The thought turned sour as she stretched.
Anithe was propped beside her bed, her clothes still covered in sweat and blood, her own stench becoming unbearable. Swearing, she strapped the blade onto her back, turning to find Brokk, when she heard it: Like nails against a chalkboard, the screech was like being doused with cold water.
Her hair standing on end, Emory threw the door open, running to the stairs. Again, the wail pierced through the normal lulling of the ocean as she cleared the stairs two at a time. The noise had sounded from underneath the ship.
Flinging herself onto the deck, unsheathing Anithe in one motion, Emory looked up to see the sisters talking in hushed tones at the wheel, Brokk beside them. Kiana’s eyes found her in the dying rays of sunlight, and she brought her finger up to her lip, silencing her.
Ice ran through her veins, her adrenaline thundering behind her fear as a third time the screech tore around them. The sunset blazed on the horizon like a flaring beacon, the spatters of midnight-blue streaking through the clouds. The full moon nestled high above them in clear brilliance as the inky waters were doused in the masterful colors of the fading light.
A break in the wave had her pivoting just in time to see the ripples in the wave as the ship rose and lowered. The world fell quiet like fresh snowfall blanketing a forest or when someone held their breath. Sparks flew from her blade’s end as her ability rushed through her body, the ancient magic churning inside of her as she prowled to the edge of the ship, trying to get a better look.
The stern of the ship was thrown to one side. Gravity left her, her scream slicing through the air, forehead cracking against the railing. Warm blood trickled down her skin. Again, that wail racked through her as she tried to stand. Dots blurred her vision as, again, the ship was thrown to the opposite side, wood splintering, making choked sobs tear through her. Get up. Get up. Get up.
There was the sound of crashing water. Of splintering wood. Screams surrounded her, and she was transported. Back to those marble rooms. To the blood-spattered floors. And Adair, always his eyes, his voice, his presence, weighing her. Watching her.
Dropping to her knees, Emory heaved, trying to find breath, to push down the clawing panic. Hands lifted her up, warmth spreading through her, his ability, his touch becoming more familiar.
“Em.” The words sounded so far away, like echoing down a tunnel.
Behind Brokk, Kiana and Riona were yelling, a shimmering force field building between the two sisters like glass. It grew, rising to meet the gurgling water. Her heart dropped into her stomach as a colossal shadow was cast over the ship, and she took in the source of the wails: Its scales were metallic; the silver and black looked sheen as droplets of water fell on them like rain.
Brokk grabbed her hand as the creature towered over them. It was easily the size of her old three-story walk-up. Sneering, its green teeth curled over its lip, its ice-blue eyes drinking in the sight of them. The ship tipped, a terrible wrenching sound shuddering through it, a flash of claws sinking into the side, as it raised its entirety out of the water.
Breaking free from Brokk’s hold, she was running, Brokk yelling after her.
The creature craned its head down, its nostrils flaring as its voice rumbled like thunder. “It has been a long time since anyone dared sail these waters.”
Those icy eyes locked on her as she grabbed onto the side of the rail, Brokk running behind her. Soon she and the monster were eye-to-eye as she yelled, “We mean you no harm!”
A thundering chuckle exploded around them as it lowered its snout, its mammoth eye flicking as it blinked, voice rumbling. “I highly doubt that.”
More boards splintered, sweat coating her palms; her grip slipped.
The beast boomed, “I have guarded these waters for centuries, casting misfortune for the souls who dare cross my territory. I take their ship and their riches in exchange. And those souls who know of my presence come bearing offerings.”
Her mind immediately soared to her teens, curled in her favorite chair, first discovering The Hobbit. Being a fantasy book lover had educated her dreams with endless possibilities; they now bled into her reality. Dragons and Sea Dragons? Both had an infinity and obsession for treasure.
Biting her lip, hoping her gut was right, she yelled, “And if we could offer you something for safe passage?”
Its sides billowed out, a gale of air rushing past them as it exhaled hard, its eyes narrowing into slits. The ship shook, more splinters flying as it curled its talons.
“And what could mere mortals offer me?”
Everything around her was becoming white noise. She refused to die as one. Diving into that well, her world completely ruptured. Vividly, she painted the scene as she felt that familiar molten feeling sear through her—her acquired magic from Adair, the ability that was magnified and twisted. The power she had stolen. It was a bottomless well of possibility. In her heart, the darkness roared.
The sea salt burned her senses, the crashing waves the immediate threat. Her mind spun and spun the tapestry of every conceivable type of riches. Rubies, sapphires, gold, silver. She could feel them, the coolness and their sharp edges. Like a gale of wind, she felt that energy expand, and opening her eyes, the monstrous beast craned its neck toward the clouds. The jewels were falling stars in the darkness, the shards of light hitting their deep colors before sinking into the waters. Exhaling, the beast roared, dropping the boat and, snout first, dove toward them.
Screaming, Emory grappled for anything to hold on to as gravity completely left her, and they were all thrown into the air. She c
aught Brokk’s eyes for a split second before everything was a blur.
Her adrenaline morphed into shock, as the wind screamed around her; water crashed into her like a wall. All her breath was pushed out of her lungs, her clothes dragging her down. Her lungs burned as water flooded her nostrils, her mouth, filling her lungs. Kicking hard, she clawed, craning her neck toward the last dying light, only to see huge portions of their ship broken, sinking to the depths. Ice cut through her veins as she panicked, kicking too fast, searching for anything. Anyone.
Violently, a current gripped her and pulled as oxygen slowly ran out, the seawater completely flooding her. A deep emerald jewel sank down beside her, and Emory followed its path, into the darkness of the ocean, into infinity. Her muscles shuddered, her ability fading in the shock as she thought of what it might feel like just to let go. Her fears and doubts were bred into viable monsters, but as she stared at that sinking jewel, all she could think about was him. That Brokk had defied all the odds, all the obstacles, all his fears, to find his way back to her. She realized, as spots danced in her vision that she wanted to do the same. That this time, he needed her.
Screaming, bubbles flew from her mouth, just as she caught a flash of white, miles below her. The monstrous dragon sliced through the water, its body moving fluidly. She kicked her feet desperately. It raced straight toward her, victory shining in its eyes as she pieced together that, like many things in this world, it had been playing them. In the end, they were its payment.
Sinking deeper, Emory fought against her heavy clothes, trying to swim back toward the surface. Flaring pain raced up her left side, her lungs burning, begging for oxygen. Far above her, the moonlight cut through the inky sea, taunting her. Keep going.
Queen to Ashes (Black Dawn Series Book 2) Page 21