Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,32

find the situation was far worse than she’d expected. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the tools to help him. Not until she could beat Juradoc. Even then, ordinary healing magic couldn’t cure the Shade rot that was quickly taking him over. She needed better answers. Hopefully, those could be found at the Great Temple.

She lay in the wagon, staring at the dirty canvas that closed her in. Fear crawled over her like a swarm of ants—fear for Fionn, for the Flame, and for everyone she loved. Beneath it all was a gut-twisting terror for her own survival. That kind of heroism wasn’t at all the life she’d trained for.

Kifi slept or chased flies. The cat smelled fresh water long before they saw it. Evening brought them to a blessedly green space—the oasis. From here, they could make it to the Serpent River and safety.

The sudden abundance of life bewitched Leena. Palm trees surrounded a pool fed by an underground spring. Bird song filled the purpling dusk, the piping calls lifting her mood. Even the air smelled sweet after days marching in choking dust.

She knew the reprieve wouldn’t last. Now was the time to make her move.

As soon as the column stopped to set up camp, Leena hopped down from her wagon to look around, leaving Kifi and her bundle of possessions inside. As soon as she saw the ground was covered in lush grass, she stripped off her sandals and threw them into the wagon. The feel of the soft, cool green beneath her toes was heaven.

Through the light silk of her veils, she scanned the chaos of milling soldiers for Morran. He’d promised to help her escape the camp once it was dark.

A sudden, putrid smell made her jump, banging her shoulder blades against the wagon. Shades circled her, cutting off every avenue of escape. They stood shoulder to shoulder, their black cloaks blocking the light.

“General Juradoc summons you,” one said, fixing her with his flickering violet gaze.

Leena’s stomach dropped. She felt poleaxed, unable to move. Where was Morran?

“Do you require us to carry you?” the Shade asked, lifting a gloved hand.

The threat of their touch shocked her back to life.

“N-no.” She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

The Shade laughed, sweeping a mocking hand toward the heart of the camp. “Then, if my lady would care to follow.”

Leena obeyed, though it felt surreal as a dream. Shades surrounded her as they walked, giving her no chance to lag behind. It took the distance to the general’s tent to fully grasp what had happened. She’d lost her chance to get away.

Now, the fight of her life was about to begin.

The scene that greeted her was familiar. Again, a black-cloaked crowd had gathered and Morran sat beside Juradoc in the pavilion’s doorway. But the similarities to the last command performance ended there. The chairs were sturdier, and there was no carefully prepared ground for her to dance on.

Morran didn’t meet her gaze. He slumped low in his chair, eyes glazed and dull. Leena’s steps faltered, earning her a shove from the guard who dogged her steps.

What had happened? Had Juradoc caught Morran slipping away?

As she drew near, the violet pinpricks that were Juradoc’s eyes watched her every move. It was difficult to read his expression, but she sensed a sneer.

“As I said before, I know you are not the dancer I asked for,” the general began. “But now I have the full story. You came in place of your sickly friend as a selfless gesture of compassion. At least, that is the story you gave your brother.”

Fionn had betrayed her. Leena stiffened.

“In truth, I suspect you came to save him from our clutches.”

Juradoc waved a hand toward the crowd, where her brother stood. Fionn stared straight ahead, oblivious to her presence. The sight of him was a twist of the knife.

The general folded his gloved hands across his middle. “I am also aware that you’ve been entertaining the prince. While I have no aversion to showing our royal guest every comfort, this was not authorized.”

Just like Fionn, Morran did not look her way. He did not even blink.

The Shade had him under complete control. No wonder her escape plans had turned to dust.

Morran had warned her about betrayal.

Rising anger unlocked Leena’s tongue. She bowed low. “Forgive me, General, but who am I to refuse a prince?”

Juradoc laughed, and it was not a pleasant sound. It left Leena helpless with revulsion.

“Lord Bird has proven troublesome of late.” Juradoc kicked Morran’s chair, getting no