Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,148
mind. As soon as it realises I’m aware of its presence, it shrieks, bringing me to my knees. I clutch my head to try and stop the pain as it struggles to take hold. Desperately, I reach for my bonds, needing some light, some hope to fight the blackness. They respond instantly, each of them sending me their love and strength, steadying me against the onslaught. As the pain starts to fade, I begin to focus on exactly what it is they are sending me, and I realise each of them is sending me a memory. Tor sends the memory of me becoming a tribe member, Vaeril the first time we met in the underground forge, Grayson the first time I said I loved him, and Eldrin the night we became mates.
Smiling through the pain, I give an almighty push and force the darkness from my mind. It leaves with another shriek, my body slumping to the ground in exhaustion, my breath coming in pants. My thoughts are my own again. Mother above, what was that? I curse, pushing myself into a sitting position and rubbing my temples.
“Come,” the girl calls, giving me no time to rest or recover.
Groaning, I glance up and find her watching me with flat, expressionless eyes. I climb to my feet, and it takes me a couple of seconds to gain my balance, the world spinning around me. Once I’m feeling steady, I nod and follow behind her.
We leave the main path, travelling deeper into the forest. I can’t be sure, but we seem to change directions, almost doubling back on ourselves. Just ahead, I see light breaking through the trees, and realise we’re heading to a clearing. We’re close to our destination, the cruel magic calling to me. Even if it wasn’t for that, the grass is turning black, creating a grim trail for me to follow. The tall, strong trees are suffering, their leaves wilting and turning shades of orange and brown as if it was autumn.
A figure blocks out the light, sending a wave of darkness rippling through the ground, and I know straightaway who is striding to meet me—Rhydian. Only he carries that pulsing feeling of unholy wrongness about him. The queen seems to absorb her power, and just looking at her, you wouldn’t know, whereas with Rhydian, it’s obvious. The dark magic oozes from his pours like his human body can’t contain it.
I have a thought then as the prince stops before me, smirking as he takes in my dishevelled appearance. What if the darkness that tried to capture my thoughts is what’s behind Rhydian’s new source of magic?
His soul was already so dark by the deeds he did for his own pleasure that when the darkness touched him, it was only a matter of time, the Mother explains, deep regret filling her as we stare at the prince. He did try to resist when he realised what was happening, but in the end, the darkness won.
“About time you showed up,” he drawls, his black eyes making me shudder as they linger on my body. It’s like he can sense where his magic marked my skin, the scar throbbing. Ignoring his comment, I hold my chin high, noticing the child has stepped to the side, watching with disinterest.
“I’m supposed to bring you before the queen,” he remarks when I don’t react, stalking towards me, his smile predatory. I hold my ground, tightening my grip on my staff until my knuckles turn white, but I refuse to move. Stopping just before me, he leans in close like he’s about to share a secret. “But before I do, I want you to kneel before me.”
Snarling, I slowly slide my free hand to the dagger at my waist. “Never.”
Rhydian’s features twist as his anger takes over, making him look monstrous as black, weblike veins appear across his face. “I said, kneel.” His demand is punctuated with a blast of magic that throws me back, but thanks to my training, I twist at the last minute, using the momentum to roll and spring back onto my feet. Adopting a defensive position, I raise my staff, deciding to leave my dagger in its sheath for now, leaving my other hand free.
“You really think you can fight me and win?” he sneers, lifting a hand as black tendrils of power start to wrap around his arm. “I have magic.”
As if to prove his point, he flicks his hand and several of those tendrils fling out. Using