Chapter 24
Urim
We spend the next two days exploring each other’s bodies and avoiding more talk of the mission. I am still fighting a war in my mind, between my logic and my instinct. Adara now feels like my mate in truth and the idea of sacrificing her, even for the greater good, feels repugnant to me. But I must acknowledge that Adara’s choice is the one that is important here. If she wishes to risk her life for the good of the Tower and Anar’i at large, then who am I to stop her? All I can do is support her and do my best to ensure that she survives this ordeal.
It’s hard to gauge the passage of time in the secret room. There are no windows, no way to see the outside world and tell what time of day it is. But I have a fairly reliable internal clock and on what I gauge to be the morning of the second day, I hear the telltale thump of boots walking down the basement stairs coming toward our hiding spot.
“Time to get dressed, hellion,” I murmur against Adara’s ear as we cuddle together, in the aftermath of lovemaking. “They’re coming this way.”
Adara groans, rising up from the cot reluctantly. She stretches, her lithe muscles moving under soft skin. “Couldn’t they have given us another moment?” she grouses. “I was still coming down from that last orgasm.”
“You’ll want to hurry or you’ll give the resistance an eyeful,” I warn her, even as jealous possession rises in my heart. Adara’s body is mine to enjoy, no others. Then I spank her bare rump with playful severity. “Hop to it.”
“Yes, commander,” she laughs, making my heart warm. Then she speedily pulls her shift over her head before grabbing her kirtle and petticoats. I pull on my trousers and do up my belt. Adara is tightening the ribbons on the front of her dress when the secret door opens.
Prince Malik stands in front of the open door, surveying us with a raised brow. I know that he probably sees the evidence of our many trysts; love bites on Adara’s human skin, the scent of arousal in the air, our rumpled clothing. He is no fool. “I see you found a way to fill your time while you waited,” he remarks drily.
“Just working off tension before we head to our doom,” retorts Adara a little saucily. I feel a pang at her words and wonder if that’s all this meant to her when it meant everything to me. But Adara steps forward and surreptitiously strokes a hand down my spine, an apology in our bond. Ah, she’s downplaying our relationship in front of the resistance fighters, which is probably wise. Though we are working with the vampires, we don’t really know them and cannot completely trust them.
“Well,” Malik says, “it’s time. We need to take you to the palace. Grazrath has put out the order to find the mage at any cost and return you to him. He is letting his desperation show.”
“Then let’s not disappoint him,” Adara says. “Let’s get this over with.”
“You need to wear your false manacles,” I tell her. “So that Grazrath doesn’t suspect that you can attack him until it is too late.”
“Right,” the mage nods, picking up her silver manacles and closing them around her wrists.
“Alright, let’s go,” Malik says. “We need to push hard through these daylight hours to get to Evernight by nightfall.”
He turns to leave, then hesitates, looking back over his shoulder. “I truly hope that you know what you’re doing. Because if this goes wrong, we’re all fucked.”
“The plan will work,” I say evenly, projecting more confidence than I feel. “You should have your vampires at the ready, though. Once Grazrath succumbs to Adara’s attack, you’ll need to be ready to strike and take out Grazrath’s supporters if you want to take back your throne.”
The vampire prince considers my words and then nods. “We’ll be ready. Now, let’s move out.”
???
Riding under the blinding sun feels like a luxury after so long in darkness. After a week of sleeping through the bulk of the day and only being awake at night, the sun feels welcome as we ride toward Evernight.
In the distance, we see the great smoking volcano that Evernight was built under, the thick cloud of smoke that belches out from its depths darkening the sun over the city and giving the city its name. We ride in silence, the ride bumpier than I am used to. Horses are fine transportation, but orcs tend to ride warbeasts, hybrids of wolves and lizards, with tufts of fur and thick scales like dragons. When they run it is almost like flying it is so smooth. I miss my warbeast, Lira, as I ride on the heavy warhorse they brought to carry my orcish heft. Orcs tend to be denser muscled and heavier than other races, which is another reason why we favor warbeasts as they are stronger than horses. But the warhorse they brought is carrying me admirably, if perhaps a touch slower than the other riders.
We reach the gates of Evernight just as the sun is setting, the sky behind us getting as dark as the smoking sky above. We stop at the gate as Malik speaks to the guards at the gate, showing the travel papers for him and his men.
“And them?” the guards ask, pointing to me and Adara. “Where are their travel papers?”
“They are just bloodbags,” the prince says dismissively. “Meant for Lord Grazrath. They don’t need papers.”
“Ah, Favored Ones,” the guard says reverently. I distantly recall the lighthouse keeper, who called Adara the same thing. It must be the name for Grazrath’s blood slaves, though if there was ever an ill-fitting name, it is that one. The intelligence that we have says that most blood slaves only last about a week at most in Grazrath’s clutches, his tastes running toward depravity and death.
The prince finishes with the gate guards and we enter the city. I keep my head down, as if a broken-spirited slave, but my mind is alive with plans. I watch the street crossings as we travel, the signs denoting the different districts in the city. When we escape from the palace, we’ll need to make our way to my contact in Evernight, Tevin, and we will not have time to meander through the city. If Adara’s soulfire doesn’t kill Grazrath outright, it is a sure thing that he’ll be out for blood and we’ll have to hide before we can head to the border and return to safety.
I am determined to keep Adara alive. I don’t care what happens to me, but her survival is paramount. When we pass the Fabric District, I make note of it, knowing that I’ll need to guide Adara here, noting each turn and twist that we make to get to the palace. I’ll be able to retrace our path here, in the event that things go wrong.
We finally come to the Onyx Palace at the very base of the volcano, a huge black stone structure that seems to glitter in the low light. The gate looms in front of us. Up on the ramparts heads are placed on spikes, presumably a warning to those who might displease Grazrath. I’m surprised to see Magistrate Zadicus’ head among the others. I suppose he was right; Grazrath is not forgiving of failure.
We ride across the drawbridge to the palace, passing under the gate that reeks to my orcish nose of death. Soon we will enter Grazrath’s lair, surrounded by enemies and few allies.
I only pray we come out again.
