“My Morpheus spheres,” I say. “The one I brought, and the one I traded for. You took them both, didn’t you?”
“What of it?”
“You can’t open them. No matter what sick energies you unleash, no matter how you scrape and scrabble, they won’t open for you.” I lift my chin, squaring my jaw, hoping my posture can communicate even beyond my mask. “You intercepted the transfer of permissions. So, the one I brought, only I can open. The one I traded for, only my trading partner can open.”
“Who’s to say I didn’t capture her, as well?”
“Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. I don’t care. At the very least, the sphere I brought? I’m the only one who can open it. And you’ll have to tear my shoulder out of socket all over again before I doanythingfor you.”
Adria laughs in the dark. “And why should I care what contraband you were carrying?”
This is my only opportunity for real leverage. My legs tremble, threatening to give out from under me, but I press my minimal advantage and take a careful step forward, closer to the freezing wall between us.
“You don’t wonder what it’s like?” I ask.
“A pocketed memory?” Adria huffs a heavy breath through half-bared teeth. “I have greater concerns.”
“No, I mean the sun.”
Blue flame ignites like spikes along Adria’s spine, an unnatural luminescence. The planes of her face are stark, that sweep of perfect jaw quivering, her powerful posture undone. At last she turns to face me. Her eyes, a violent shade of violet, pin me where I stand. She lifts one hand, fingers splayed, palm open, and for an instant, I think she’s going to slash my armor open, let the planet make me a monster, too. Instead, she extends an open hand like an invitation, her long, slender fingers just barely avoiding the freezing wall between us.
Her voice emerges, hoarse. “And what do you want in return?”
“That’s the difference between you and me,” I say.
I lift one hand, palm open, fingertips hovering a hair’s breadth from my cell’s freezing gate. Her hand is so much bigger than mine. She could crush my face like a melon if she wanted to; she could break me with an idle shove.
“The sun doesn’t ask what the planet offers in return,” I breathe. “It simply shines, time after time after time, until time doesn’t mean anything at all. It’s the way of things. It’s the way of my people.”
I force myself to stare into the fathomless purple eyes.
Adria blows out another frustrated breath, a burst of white in the Shadowlands’ cold. I feel its heat even through the wall of freezeshot between us. She lowers her hand. “You do realize I cut off oxygen to your brain?”
“I’m in my right mind. I know what I said. You think I’m a monster like you. I may be a disaster of an heiress, but I’m still a daughter of the sun,” I say, pleading. “So let me show you.”
Adria’s mouth lifts at the corners. A sun serpent’s warning before a strike? An involuntary shudder of power? No, it’s a smirk if ever I’ve seen one. I don’t know what to make of her laugh, which rattles the floor with its ferocity.
“Get some rest, Kori of the Daylands. When I visit you again, we’ll see what some time in the shadows has done to your promises.”
The flames licking at her spine go out. I’m blown back into darkness. I jerk despite myself from the suddenness of it, involuntarily colliding with the freezeshot wall again. Its sheer ice spears through the marrow of my bones. I stagger, too pained even to scream, my body trying to shrink into itself. My mouth tastes like rust, my teeth stinging from the force of clamping them together.
“Adria?” I gasp, when I’ve recovered myself.
But there’s only the silent stone beneath my feet.
CHAPTER
12
ADRIA
I’m supposed to head directly to a meeting with the Shadow Court, Thaane in tow. From him, they’ll demand updates on how our troops are fighting back Azarii’s uprising; and from me, they’ll need a suitable asking price for Kori, delivered intact to the dayfolk. Instead, I wind like a stubborn river back to my chambers.
In the corner, all three of Russ’s heads blissfully doze, his subconscious canine snores echoing off the walls. I envy sleep intensely right now. I want to curl up against him again, bury my face in his deep-black fur, and hope to the Beyond for a dreamless rest. But I find myself returning to the locked metal box beneath my bed. One claw pries it open with a hiss.
Inside, the two Morpheus spheres that I confiscated from Kori and the nightfolk girl glow steadily red. I know they won’t open for me, but some reckless impulse makes me scratch at one sphere’s seams anyway, poking its blinking light with one claw. Anger rears up in my throat, and I nearly try to tear into the sphere with my teeth before I come to my senses.
You don’t wonder what it’s like? The sun?
