“Of course, there was no way in bloody Hel I was helping thatdemonwith anything, but . . . ” he trailed off, eyes turning to Adara once more.
Ice crept through her veins. She didn’t like where this was going.
“You, Adara,” he said. “You could offer to aid him in his search for the relics—”
“Are you insane?” she shouted, hands splaying at her side. “You’ve heard the tales. A search for those relics is suicide!”
“Because not everyone was searching in the right places.”
“Even if they were, I don't doubt the real relics needed would be just as deadly to find.”
Damon sighed, running a hand across the dark stubble peppering his jaw. “It’s the only way he’ll keep you alive. If you have no use for him, hewillfind your key. He will drain your magic and your life until you are nothing but a lifeless husk of what you once were. It’s the only way, Adara.”
Adara bit her lip, poring over this new information. She already had a plan to make Dominic Nite keep her alive: a game of love with their keys as the prize. A way for her to gain the magic that flowed through the Thief of Hearts’s veins. But with the power of the Realm Fracturer too . . .
“The Realm Fracturer is capable of tearing through space and time, yes?” she thought aloud.
Damon nodded. “If the legends are true.”
“And what relics are needed to make it?” she inquired.
“A portal orb, ashes of the Ruins, an eye of the Whisperer, a dragon scale, and shadow steel.”
Adara’s entire body tensed. A portal orb could transport you anywhere in the blink of an eye, but those were buried in the depths of the Plagued Sea. The Ruins were a wasteland out west of Malryn. Other than that, she didn’t know much about needing ashes from the Ruins, nor did she know what the Whisperer was. A dragon scale and shadow steel, however . . . Perhaps she could strike another barter with Dominic Nite, for she knew where those relics resided.
Gods, this was insane, but what other options did she have? A key was the only thing that could grant Adara more power, and Dominic’s was one of the most powerful, having absorbed magic from other keys. And the ability to tear through space and time with the Realm Fracturer? It would be like having the power of the gods at her fingertips.
She could go home.And the Shadow Empire wouldn’t stand a chance.
Adara’s lips tugged into a smirk. “Your plan might be so crazy it works, Damon.”
The corner of his lips twitched in the ghost of a smile, the most expression she’d seen from him this entire trip. He hated coming back to this island. She could tell by his rigid posture, his harsh gaze, and his stern, acidic words. And again she wanted to ask what the King of Keys had done to make Damon so hostile here, but she knew she wouldn’t get an answer.
Adara hastily braided her hair, the red streaks in it stark against the brown, as Damon hollered for the crew to drop the anchor. She went to the port as the rest of the crew prepared to lower a rowboat into the water for her.
The clacking of boots against the deck sounded behind her. Adara’s fingers instinctively curled around Infinova’s hilt, finding comfort in the sacred sword her parents had crafted for her. The ruby in its pommel glinted in the sunlight. Damon strode toward her. His gait was disrupted by the limp he permanently walked with, a result of having his knee bashed in with a mace in a scuffle with other pirates. If he was in pain from the lingering injury, the captain never showed it.
“Nite’s magic is tied to the island. He’ll sense you the second you set foot on shore. The others will hunt you down and won’t stop until they bring you back to him,” Damon warned.
Her heart pounded at his foreboding words.
“Find the water and drink first. Then let them bring you back to Nite and make a deal with him to search for the relics. Savvy?”
Adara could only summon a nod in response.
She stepped toward the rowboat. A firm hand landed on her shoulder, and she glanced back.
“Remember,” Damon said, eyes softening in a way that made Adara’s chest ache, “Survive at all costs.” The way his brows furrowed in a frown and his eyes grew weary made it seem like a permanent farewell.
She supposed it might be. She was either going to die on Andreilia at the hands of Dominic Nite, or she was going to win this game of love, forge the Realm Fracturer, and return to Blemythia.
Her hand drifted to the chain around her neck, brushing over the cool metal. It had become a subconscious habit to touch the key—cold and empty because the one whose life it encompassed was gone—resting against her chest. A subtle act that brought her comfort as well as sorrow. With this key, she could still sense the memory of Cal imprinted on her soul. But she would never be able to feel his skin on hers again, only the icy metal of a painful reminder that he was no longer with her.
It was for him that she’d promised to always live to fight another day.For him and now Damon that life was a risk she had to take.Itryla al rone yi mon taka,she thought. “You know I will,” she replied, tossing a bow and quiver over her shoulder. Then she stepped into the rowboat, sights set on Andreilia.
When she reached the shore, Adara turned toward theValen Wind.Though Damon was far out at sea, she spotted him at the prow, shoulders slumped, hands hanging limply at his side. She imagined the sorrow in his gray eyes, like a storm cloud hovering over him.
Her fingers ran over the metal vambrace on her left forearm. Trying to block out thoughts of what lay beneath that armor, Adara tucked her arm in the folds of her royal blue cloak that billowed behind her. The gold dragon embroidered on the back would be a beacon once she stepped into the forest, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with the symbol of home.
