Adara angled her head to see him covering Zephyr’s eyes.
Dominic’s tantalizing expression fell flat. Adara let out a breath of relief when he stood, swiftly flipped the dagger in his hand, and handed it back to her hilt-first.
“Now, if you’re done attacking me, we have somewhere to be.”
She ground her teeth behind closed lips. Gods, she despised him. Hated the way he played with her emotions, the way he made her believe she’d lost herself, only to find out it was ajoke.She abhorred the way he’d easily flipped her attack, disarming her like it was nothing. Loathed the way he’d pressed in so close to her, gazing at her with something she could only think to be desire.
Adara stood and ripped the dagger out of his hand hard enough to draw blood from where he’d been holding the blade.
“Gods, I hate this place,” Adara muttered, watching from the port rail as Malryn grew closer.
Gray stone towers loomed in the distance. Ivy climbed the castle’s impenetrable walls like serpents wrapping around its victims, choking the life out of everything within. Lykrios’ port brimmed with activity. Ships flying different colored flags from kingdoms of the other continents, though none from Blemythia, were moored in the harbor. Dwodis soared overhead, their large wings casting shadows over the ship as they approached from the east, flying across the Plagued Sea from Enfider.
Beside her, Caleb shuddered, wringing his hands nervously. “I do, too,” he replied, eyes fixed on the bustling city ahead, more alive than Adara had ever seen it. That only added to her dread.
“Don’t worry,” Asher said, placing a comforting hand on Caleb’s shoulders. “You’re never going back there.” Caleb gave Asher a forced smile, but his features fell flat once more.
“Back where?” Adara asked, worry flooding her with their cryptic conversation.
Caleb heaved a sigh. “Before I came to Andreilia, I lived in Lykrios.Pherrahave always been outlawed here, and the king back then was no different. There was this boy I liked.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed back words, like he couldn’t bear to say the name. He shook his head, bitterness filling his eyes, and continued. “He was a Terrene. He used his magic to help me and my family grow food in even the coldest winter. I guess one of our neighbors saw him use magic and reported it to the king, because soon they were after us. I helped him escape to Ileza.” One of the cities in Tarin, Adara thought, wherePherraare free.
“But I was caught. They didn’t execute sympathizers back then like the queen does now. Instead, I was sent to a slave mine in Worleksiv. Months went by, then a year. No one came for me.” His voice wavered before regaining composure, now hard, morphed into the armor that rage provided. “Not the Terrene I helped escape, not my family. No one. So I broke out and came to Andreilia.”
Adara hated that look of betrayal in his eyes, how his friend never came back after Caleb helped him escape. “How did you escape?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Conditions in the slave mines were harsh. Surviving for a year and even escaping wasn’t exactly unheard of, but it was still a gods’ damned miracle.
Caleb chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. “Let’s just say they shouldn’t have given me a pick axe and pissed me off.”
Chapter 24
Themomenttheysteppedoff the gangplank, travel packs slung over their shoulders, they were met by one of the queen’s guards. Evreux stiffened beside Adara as they were ordered to halt for questioning before venturing into the city.
“Don’t look so terrified,” Tyson snapped quietly, subtly elbowing Evreux in the ribs. “You’ll only draw their suspicion more.”
“A regular precaution,” Vesper informed, his tone much more gentle than Tyson’s.
Evreux relaxed slightly at that, but Adara could still see the worry eating away at him. She couldn’t blame him. She felt it too.
The guard skeptically eyed their ship, which bore no flag to display which kingdom they hailed from, like the others. “Where are you coming from?” he asked gruffly, his eyes narrowing over the plate of metal that ran down the length of his nose from his onyx helmet.
The space between the Andreilians went taut. Narrow and suffocating with the heat of the guard’s wary stare pinned on them. Dominic opened his mouth to speak.
Silas stepped out from behind Sawyer. “Jeotom, sir.”
The guard narrowed his eyes on the thirteen-year-old, no doubt shocked by the lack of intimidation Silas displayed. Adara noticed the side of Dominic’s mouth quirk up in a proud smile.
“You fly no flags from the Kingdoms of Jeotom,” the guard responded. “What are you doing here?”
Silas didn’t falter. “We’re from Oroninoke.” The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue.
Adara admired the way the young boy’s mossy eyes locked onto the guard without an ounce of fear. The slightest turn of Silas’s head told Adara he was staring at something deep within the city, spinning another lie to add to the web. A grin broke out across his freckled cheeks. “We came for the festival!” he said excitedly.
What festival?Adara eyed the city, crowded and flowing with colors and movement.
The guard grunted his dissatisfaction. “You folk from the southern continent don’t believe in gods. Why come to a festival to honor one?” His hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of the sword at his side, but he did not draw it.
Sawyer stepped up and ruffled Silas’s auburn hair. “We’re not originally from Oroninoke, you see,” Sawyer said. “We have family here in Lykrios and thought we’d visit for the holiday.”
The guard eyed all fourteen of them. “Allof you have family here?” He raised a brow.
