“From this day forth, you are a child of darkness. The power of Shadows now runs in your veins. And you are, and shall ever be, my servant.”
Dune screamed as the magic exploded inside him, transforming his entire body. His skin became the pitch black space between stars, his eyes the bottomless pits of the abyss, his hair the inky black of despair. Long claws and fangs sprouted from his fingertips and mouth, and the shadow his form cast began to bleed, spreading across the floor and creeping up the walls until the entire room plunged into darkness.
“Mother of Shadows,” Dune rasped, his voice a little thick behind his newly grown fangs. He dropped to one knee before the shadow demon and bowed his head. “I live to serve.”
“You’ve given him a lot of shadow magic,” Slaugh said, the barest hint of disapproval in his voice.
“Yes.” Nox stroked the top of Dune’s head, her nails scraping his scalp and sending pleasurable tingles through his body. “He’ll need it if he’s going to take on Adara and that pesky dragon sidekick of hers.” She slid a finger under Dune’s chin and tilted his head up to look at her, and his body thrilled at the smile she gave him. “You magnificent creature. You’ll follow my instructions to the letter, won’t you?”
“Yes, Mother,” Dune said eagerly. He no longer cared about General Slaugh’s approval, or anyone else’s. The Mother of Shadows was the only one that mattered, the one who had given him this glorious power and purpose. He would do whatever it took to please her, vanquish any enemy who stood in her way.
And if that enemy was Adara, the girl who had humiliated and bested him, well, that was merely icing on the cake.
13
Adara
“There she is.”
“… girl from the prophecy…”
“… dragon-born abomination…”
“…king slayer…”
I nearly flinched at that last whispered accusation, but kept my eyes straight ahead as I stepped into the audience chamber, trying not to look at the assembled courtiers gathered in the gallery. Their dozens of eyes followed me as I walked down the aisle toward the dais, their whispers snapping at my heels, and I knew it wasn’t just me they were talking about. Their sharp eyes were also glued to Einar’s wings, which were now on full display. The guards had searched us for weapons and required us to remove all outer garments before entering the room, so he could no longer hide them, nor the shackles at his wrists.
“Ignore them,” Prentis murmured in my ear as we approached. “Lady Axlya’s opinion is the only one that matters.”
I nodded, my attention on the seven figures assembled on the dais. The female seated on the throne, dressed in a diaphanous gown made up of nearly every shade of blue I could think of, was obviously Lady Axlya. She studied me out of crystalline blue eyes the exact same shade as Prentis’s, her youthful, elegant features arranged into an expression of pure serenity that revealed nothing. I had no more chance of divining her thoughts than I did a goldfish staring at me through a glass bowl.
Seated on both sides of Lady Axlya’s throne were four males and two females, all dressed in Usciete’s colors—blue and silver. They viewed me with varying shades of curiosity, with smidges of amusement, hostility, and boredom mixed in. I couldn’t tell if these were family members or advisors, but they must have been very important to be sitting up here with the matriarch.
“My Lady Aunt.” Prentis stopped at the foot of the dais and swept into a low bow. “May I present Adara, daughter of the late Princess Olette and Prince Daryan, and the lost heir to the Edirian throne?”
More whispers broke out in the gallery behind us, but I forced myself to tune them out.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Great-Grandmother.”
The whispers stilled, and Lady Axlya’s blue-painted lips curved into a shimmering smile.
“Great-Grandmother,” she said, her crystalline eyes twinkling. “I must say, the Radiants have answered my prayers for another grandchild in a rather unexpected manner.” She tilted her head as she studied me, and I tried not to fidget under the weight of her regard. “Your hair, your nose, even the shape of your jaw… you bear a striking resemblance to your grandfather, the late King Ciryan. But the tilt and color of your eyes, those most definitely came from Olette.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” I said.
“Of course it is. It’s clear you strongly favor your water fae ancestry.” Her smile dimmed as she turned her gaze toward Einar, taking in his wings, which were on proud display. “Though I must say, I am not incredibly fond of the company you keep.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said before Einar could open his mouth and get us in trouble, “because he’s saved my life several times. Without him, I don’t think I ever would have made it to your halls.”
There was a long pause at that, so long that I began to wonder if I’d misspoken. “I would say that we are in your debt, Einar,” Axlya said. “But as you have killed many of my subjects, I suppose we shall call this a wash.”
Axlya’s smile remained serene, but her crystalline eyes turned diamond-sharp. I held my breath as I awaited Einar’s response, but instead of snapping at her, he merely shrugged.
“I’m not concerned with past feuds between your family and mine,” he said. “My only desire is to make sure Adara is safe and protected.”
“And you do not consider that she is safe and protected?” Lady Axlya rose an eyebrow. “Now that she is here in the heart of my realm, back in the bosom of her family where she belongs?”
“She is safer here than anywhere else,” Einar agreed. “But she will never be safe until she has mastered her powers and eradicated all shadow magic from the kingdom.” He took a small step forward, positioning himself ever so slightly between me and Axlya. “And until that day comes, I will remain at her side.”