Brokk’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What else is coming for us, Nei?”
She grabbed his shoulder, growling. “A reckoning.” Ice licked at Memphis’s veins, through his pain, through his nausea. He wanted to claw out the remains of the demons’ whispered voices, of their acclaimed king, of Cesan. Of the promises of their unmaking. He was distantly aware of Brokk shifting back and making himself flush to the ground. Nei’s whispered words were an anchor in the chaos. “Memphis, you have to try and get up.”
He shifted his weight, clambering for his friend, and the pain almost made him succumb to oblivion. Was that him crying, snarling in frustration? Had he completely unhinged? His weight shifted, and he breathed deeply, Brokk’s fur tickling his nose.
Nei’s voice cracked. “Whatever you see, don’t stop until we reach the Academy.”
Brokk heaved a shuddering breath, dipping his head once. And then they were running, leaving the bloodthirsty howls clinging onto the air behind them as they dove deeper into the heart of the woods. And they didn’t stop.
11
Adair
They came to him in his dreams. At first it was beckoning voices, soft and comforting. He groggily smiled, looking around him. Nothing was clear, the colors and shapes blurred into a giant grey mass. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he shrugged. When he stepped forward, the ground rippled like he had dropped a stone into the water. Green hues shimmered below his feet, crisp and sharp against the grey backdrop. Taking another step, the world shifted, exploding before him. The smell of damp grass overcame him, and looking around, he was in another forest, one he didn’t recognize. The trees here were oversized, the leaves a deep purple, casting the illusion that he was in the heart of a gem.
“Adair.” The hair on the back of his neck stood as the soft voice changed into something he recognized. Turning slowly, the creature was behind him, her head tilted, like a predator watching its prey before it pounced. She stalked up to him, slowly, the leaves turning to scorched earth with each footfall. He couldn’t move. He just watched, his heart lodged in his throat as she came face to face with him, her pale hand resting gently over his heart. Those pitiless eyes pulled him in until he wasn’t sure he was breathing at all. Leaning in, her sharpened teeth clicked lazily as she whispered, “You are so close. You can’t falter now.”
“Close to what?” His voice was a whisper on his exhale.
She pressed her hand harder on his chest. “To freedom.”
He stared in horror as fire erupted from her fingertips. Black flames twisted up and down her arm, until they erupted, consuming him. It was like having his head shoved underwater. He flailed and writhed trying to escape her grasp, but he couldn’t break free. He watched as the inky flames twisted all around him, kissing and caressing his skin, sinking into his pores. Turning his veins black. Choking him, deafening him. He felt liquid burst from his tear ducts, and black tears streamed down his face. His screams echoed through the forest as she giggled, lowering her sharpened teeth toward his throat, making him submit to her will, her dark desires. He clawed at her, but the fire just raged, crawling into his mouth, his eyes, his nose. Suffocating him, as he turned to ash beneath her hold.
His screams tore from him, jarring him back to reality. Sweat clung to his skin, sticking his clothes to his body beneath his coated jacket. The tinges of dawn bled into the sky, making the forest around them seem innocent as the shadows were chased away. Scrambling back, he clutched his heart, ripping at his clothes, tearing them so he could see, could check, that it had been just a dream. The cool air made his skin prickle as his chest was exposed. His skin was starkly pale, with no trace of inky lines. Sighing, he held his head in his hands, trying to shake the nightmare.
“I thought you might have died.” Ice shivered down his spine as he snapped his attention to the figure looming over him. Marquis was pale in the morning light, dark shadows lining his piercing eyes. Slowly he lowered himself so he was eye to eye with him. His voice was raw as he said, “A little warning might be welcome next time we go visit a creature of death.”
Adair raised an eyebrow at the young prince. “I thought you would relish in the life-threatening experience. Also, I did warn you.”
Marquis grinned wolfishly, extending his hand down to him. He grasped it, welcoming the help as his body protested the movement. Bruises peppered his arms, the dried blood cracking from the old wound. Sighing, he looked at Marquis skeptically. “How did you find me anyways? The Gortach’s lair is almost impossible to pass through.”
Dusting off his jacket, the Prince of the Shattered Isles said, “It’s hard to say. A horrible, wrenching gut feeling? That the golden room we began in started to turn into itself? It was like I was looking through a mirror once I found the crack, and I stepped into it, it was a portal straight to you.”
Dusting himself off slowly, Adair murmured, “And a good thing at that. Bleeding dark magic.” Marquis lightly coughed under his breath, arching an eyebrow at him in anticipation.
“Yes, thank you for saving my life, oh noble prince.”
Chortling, he clapped his back. “That’s more like it. Anyways, did you find what you were looking for down there?”
Popping his collar up, he shivered against the misty morning. He looked around at the empty forest and absentmindedly brushed his chest. He could still feel the echoes of those black flames, burning him, his core, running through his veins. “In a way.” He started walking, his boots thudding wetly against the ground.
Marquis was right beside him chomping at the bit.
