The arrow he still held went deep into the being’s side, and the creature stumbled back with an outraged hiss, releasing Cethin’s throat.
“They aren’t supposed to be here,” it snarled, the words broken and raspy. Then its head tipped back too far, and its mouth fell open, wisps of light spewing from it. Moments later, it dissipated into ashes and…faint embers?
The arrow clattered to the floor, everything turning to the same wispy light except for the arrowhead.
When Razik had killed the beings, they’d turned to ash, but this had been different somehow. He hadn’t realized it before—in the heat of everything—but now that he had a moment to think, the same thing had happened when the female had killed one.
The sound of boots running had him swiping up the arrowhead and shoving it into his pocket as Tybalt rounded the corner with Razik behind him. The younger Greybane still looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and disheveled hair. He glared at Cethin as if this attack was his fault.
“What happened?” Tybalt demanded. If his features didn’t betray how furious he was, the shifted reptilian pupils and glowing sapphire irises did.
“I heard screaming and found them,” Cethin answered, making his way back to Lady Nessira’s body.
“You rantothe screaming?” Razik drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. “How noble of you.”
“Razik,” Tybalt growled, but then he turned back to Cethin. “But I’m going to have to repeat that question, Cethin. You rantowardsthe screaming?”
“Of course I did,” he replied, crouching beside the body. “Where is Paesha? We need to talk to her. Find out what she saw.”
When no one answered, he glanced up to find Razik still glaring at him and Tybalt rubbing his brow with his thumb and forefinger. “Cethin, I don’t know why I need to keep reminding you that you are the king. You can’t—” He stopped himself, sighing deeply.
“If you get yourself killed, the kingdom has no one,” Razik said flatly.
“You don’t care if I’m killed,” Cethin grumbled under his breath, but with their enhanced hearing, of course Razik heard him.
“You’re right. I don’t. But even I recognize how disastrous that would be. That’s whyIhaven’t killed you yet. You’re the one person who doesn’t seem to understand the effects that would have.” He paused before adding with a shrug, “Or maybe you simply don’t care.”
“I swear to all the gods, Greybane—” Cethin started, but Tybalt interrupted.
“Tell us what happened. Then we’ll find Paesha and take care of…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Lady Nessira’s lifeless body.
“One of those spirit beings was here,” Cethin said flatly, gaze now fixed on the pool of red beneath the lady.
The lords and ladies of the advising council didn’t usually stay at the castle. They all had their own homes in the territories they governed, Traveling to the castle every twenty days for council meetings. However, with the recent and escalating attacks, an urgent meeting had been called to discuss what to do.But how do you prepare for more attacks when you don’t know what you’re fighting against?
Clearly any preparation would be meaningless anyway, because how the fuck had that being even gotten inside? There were wards covering a wide radius around the castle. There were a handful of people who could Travel directly into the building or even onto the grounds for that matter. Everyone and everything else had to physically enter through doors, passing numerous sentinels that patrolled the entrances, grounds, and halls.
Several seconds of silence ticked by before Razik said, a trace of doubt in his tone, “And where is the creature now?”
“Dead,” Cethin answered, pushing back to his feet.
“How? Only dragon fire can kill them. Your parlor tricks were useless.”
Cethin gritted his teeth, thoseparlor trickschurning in his soul, the darkness writhing beneath his skin. With a sneer, he replied, “You wouldn’t have been much help anyway. Your reserves aren’t even half refilled.”
Smoke furled with Razik’s next exhale, and Cethin felt his lips twitch at his success in getting under the male’s skin.
“Razik’s question is important,” Tybalt interjected again with another audible sigh. He had bent, retrieving some of the laundry that had been spilled from the basket and using it to cover the body. It was then Cethin realized it washislaundry. His own various tunics and pants.
Gently laying a black tunic over Lady Nessira’s face and chest, Tybalt continued, “If you’ve found another way to defeat them, it needs to be shared.”
“I didn’t really,” Cethin answered, slipping his hand into his pocket and fingering the arrowhead. “Not another way, I mean. I had an arrow.”
Razik’s gaze whipped to him. “One of hers?”
Cethin nodded, his hand wrapping around the arrowhead possessively, feeling it cut into his flesh and causing blood to well. Something inside him twisted at the idea that Razik seemed interested in her. Which was ridiculous. They were all interested in her. Aside from dragon fire, she was the only other person who’d effectively defeated the things. There were only two Sargon descendants in the realm, but how many ofherwere there?
“Where is this arrow?” Tybalt asked, straightening once more.
