Dark Skies by Danielle L. Jensen Page 0,44

hand reached out of the folds of the coat to touch the jet and gold of his cuff links. “Is this your horse?”

His black war-horse was built like a brick shithouse, not at all like the delicate things Malahi had the jeweler design, but Killian nodded.

Malahi.

He’d been gone long enough, and she’d be wondering where he was, especially after how he’d left things at dinner. Leaning down, he said to Finn, “I should go.”

The words no sooner exited his lips than clouds passed over the moon, plunging the city into darkness. And with the darkness, the deimos descended. Shrieks filled the night sky, wings pounding the air, and on the cobbles above them hooves clattered. Several of the children started to cry, all of them scuttling to the edges of the chamber, hiding themselves in their nests of blankets. The little girl pressed against his leg, her bottom lip trembling as she watched a shadow pass over the grate above.

“They can’t get down here,” Killian said. “You’re safe.”

“But what if they can?” she asked. “What if they do?”

He met Finn’s gaze, but his friend only shrugged.

Exhaling a long breath, Killian said, “Well then, I suppose I’ll fight them off for you.”

“You can’t fight them if you’re not here.”

Malahi was already angry with him. If he stayed out all night, it would be twice as bad come morning. But the thought of leaving made him feel sick, so he said, “Then I suppose I’ll have to stay, fair lady.”

Killian ensconced himself against one wall, the little girl curling up against him for warmth. At Finn’s behest, he told story after story about his time in the North training with Dareena. Funny stories, like the time he got caught in one of the border traps and was stuck hanging upside down from a tree until the High Lady finally cut him down. Or of the time she’d decided his wrestling skills were lackluster and made him spend an afternoon in a muddy pen catching greased pigs.

The children started laughing and stopped flinching every time the deimos screamed overhead. His voice grew hoarse, but Killian kept talking, hearing their breathing deepen as they fell asleep. Only then did he stop, listening to the soft noises they made as they stirred in their blankets. Children who needed their parents. Needed their families. Needed proper homes. But most of them would never have that again.

Helene’s voice echoed through his thoughts: Every single Mudamorian who starves should be laid at your feet so that you never forget that it was you who let the enemy in.

She was right. It was his fault. Everything that had happened to these children was his fault.

The chamber grew brighter with the dawn light, and Killian’s hands balled into fists as the sun illuminated the faces around him. How many of them would die? His eyes burned and he rubbed at them before gently moving the girl onto a pile of blankets, her small form still wrapped in his coat. Pulling loose one of his cuff links, he pressed the black horse into her hand, then bent to shake Finn’s shoulder. “I have to go. I’ll be back again tonight.”

16

LYDIA

Rolling over in her bed for the hundredth time, Lydia ground her teeth in frustration, knowing sleep wouldn’t come. Nights of fitful rest plagued by dreams and equally fitful days spent trying to escape to warn Teriana had left her exhausted, but with each day seeing a new Maarin ship hauled into Celendrial’s harbor, her fear and guilt would give her no respite.

Climbing to her feet, Lydia donned her spectacles and, turning up her lamp, she ventured down the hallway toward the library. A faint glow was visible beneath the door, which made her pause. No one spent much time in the room but her, and it was highly unlikely that one of the servants was cleaning in the wee hours of the morning. Cracking the door, she peered inside, a frown creasing her brow at the sight of her father bent over her desk, stacks of books sitting next to him. “Father?”

He turned, and at the sight of his drawn face, a dull ache of sorrow filled her core. “What are you doing?” she asked. “You should be resting.”

“I find myself not wishing to waste time abed,” he said, turning back to the open book before him.

As Lydia approached, she saw it was a law text from the extensive collection on the library shelves. Her eyes skipped across the lines. He

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024