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 when 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.”
Adair 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. Marquis’s 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. His voice was scratchy when he said, “I thought you would relish in the life-threatening experience. Also, I did warn you.”
Marquis grinned wolfishly, extending his hand down to him. Adair grasped it, welcoming the help as his body protested from the movement. Bruises flowered his arms, the dried blood cracking from the old wound.
Sighing, he looked at Marquis skeptically. “How did you find me anyways? Gortach’s lair is almost impossible to pass through.”
Dusting off his jacket, the Prince of the Shattered Isles murmured, “It’s hard to say. A horrible wrenching gut feeling? That the golden room we started 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. Turns out, it was a portal straight to you.”
Adair dusted himself off slowly. “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, Marquis clapped his back. “That’s more like it. Anyways, did you find what you were looking for down there?”
Adair popped his collar up, shivering against the misty morning. He looked around at the empty forest, absentmindedly rubbing his chest. He could still feel the echoes of those black flames burning through him, through his core, and 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.
“I just saved your life, and you decide now is the time to be cryptic?”
Adair tiredly rubbed his eyes. “What? So you can report back to your father what I’m up to?”
Marquis squared his shoulders. “No. Because we just visited a hidden realm where creatures of ancient myths do exist, and I’m curious how exactly you found them and what is worth that kind of desperation.”
Walking in silence, Adair chewed his cheek. He glanced at the prince, who had buried his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently for him to answer. Would it be so bad to confide in someone? To have someone to confide in? Someone who would listen with no judgements, no pre-conceived notions of who he really was. Or who he had to be.
“I like to read. History is my passion.” Adair shrugged. “Look. All my life I have been groomed to become part of the Academy’s successors. Which means not having regular classes and having access to materials the Faes have brought in for their own personal use. I found this book, and well, I devoured every word.”
He frowned and Marquis motioned him to continue. “Is it so wrong to believe that there is more to the magic of this world? We are here, so why couldn’t these mythical creatures be as well? It took a lot of hunting and obviously exploring. I found the gateway a couple of years ago, by sheer luck. I haven’t told anyone, because who would listen? Who would believe me? I’m an outcast, with the ability to possess another person. Most students fear me, and their fear ensures I’m isolated. With the exception of Emory and Memphis.”
Marquis nodded. “It takes a dreamer to know a dreamer. You and I aren’t that different.”
Nodding, Adair whispered, “It was worth it. Gortach is a seer of sorts. It can see into the future of the question the person presents to it. I knew the Faes have been lying to us.”
Rubbing his hands together, Marquis was practically bouncing on his heels. “You do know that was our true intention for coming, right?”
Adair practically tripped over his own feet. Halting, he breathed, “What?”
“Stories travel fast to the Isles. Even though our trading routes have been cut off since Nei’s father, Briar, was ruling, word still got to us. We are rovers after all, and gathering secrets is like our oxygen.” Marquis grinned. “Anyways, my dad was curious about why Briar cut off the Shattered Isles from his oldest daughter. Before he was usurped and killed, it was found out that Roque was keeping some very dangerous secrets from prying eyes.
This time Adair motioned him to continue. “It’s not a coincidence that we are here, or that there have been horror stories of dark creatures ravaging Kiero. It’s true my dad is here to build an alliance with the Faes, but not before finding out the truth. We are buying time. Didn’t you ever wonder why I didn’t go with my group? I have been assigned the key role of finding out if Kiero is worth our alliance.”
Marquis beamed at him, and adrenaline coursed through Adair. He choked back his relief and a strangled laugh. “And what do you think so far?”
The prince stopped, looking at him dead in the eyes. “That, right now, that place is built on a warped dream, overrun with lies and deception. That the good intentions have been lost in translation. Your father is proof of that.”
A moment passed. Running his hand along his mouth, Adair started walking, weaving through the towering forest. Ice cut through his veins, vicious and
