Page 149 of A Bargain of Smoke and Vines
“But please, make haste, Your Highness. We must depart promptly,” Anethesis adds with a weary sigh.
I take a tentative step toward the wardrobe, but The Golden Son blocks my path. “Try anything, and the next thing I take is his head,” he warns, his tone icy.
I gulp, battling to keep my expression calm. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. I reach the wardrobe, flinging the doors open, and glance back at Daed crumpled in the corner, blood streaming down his back and pouring from his nose. Panic rises in my chest as I fumble through the clothes, desperate for a robe. Finally, my fingers close around a soft fabric, and I swirl it around myself.
“Let me help you with that,” The Golden Son says, stepping closer. His blue eyes lock onto mine through his glimmering mask, and I gasp as he takes hold of the robe’s strings, yanking them tightly around my waist before knotting them.
“There. Nice and cozy,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery.
Daed looks up, his eyes ablaze with fury. He digs his nails into the bed, dragging himself to his feet, but his Fae captors lift him into the air and slam him against the wall with a forceful gust of wind. The back of his head thuds against the stone, and his eyes flutter closed as he drops to the ground, a lifeless heap.
“No!” I scream. “Stop! Let’s go. Please! Just leave him alone!”
The Golden Son nods in agreement. “Yes. Time is short. Bind her again. We don’t want her changing her mind.”
Anethesis twirls his fingers, and my invisible bonds snap back into place, sealing across my mouth and binding my wrists behind my back. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind whisksThe Golden Son and me into the air, propelling us out of the balcony. The last thing I see is Daed, sprawled in a pool of blood and black feathers, his beautiful wings at his side.
The Ithranor Fae follow, gliding effortlessly on the wind that carries us across Pariseth toward the storm wall. I pray to the souls that we die trying to break through it. Instead, Anethesis extends his hand, and a rush of wind cleaves the wall in two. Beyond it, the raging waves are dotted with a dozen ships, each intricately carved with elaborate figureheads and billowing golden sails. Even in the dead of night, they shine like the sun.
The Golden Son looks down at me with his piercing blue eyes, and despite my inability to speak or move, I hope my hatred is clear on my face.
“Have you ever ventured to the lands beyond the Untold Sea?” he asks, not bothering to wait for my response. “Me neither. This will be an adventure for both of us.”
Once we pass through the wall, Anethesis seals it behind us, erecting a barrier of wind that keeps the pelting rain at bay. When we touch down on the deck, the hundreds of Ithranor Fae summon even more wind, propelling their vessels across the sea faster than any Mordorin can fly.
Despair washes over me as I watch Pariseth fade into the distance, tears streaming down my cheeks, Daed’s muffled name escaping my lips.
Aboard the ship, I’m taken below deck and shown to a cabin furnished with the opulence of a palace. Anethesis removes the gag from my mouth but leaves my hands bound.
“I remember what those things are capable of,” The Golden Son says, his tone curt. “So let’s not take any risks.” He glances over his shoulder at Anethesis. “I’ll finish this.”
Anethesis nods. “Again, I’m terribly sorry it has come to this, Princess Amara. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
When he closes the door behind him, I spit at The Golden Son’s feet.
“You align yourself with what you hate most. What a hypocrite you’ve become.”
“I aligned myself with whoever would help me get what I want,” he snaps, irritation flickering in his eyes.
A shiver runs down my spine, but The Golden Son only laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jewel. I’ve already told you—I have no interest in you, but the Ithranor do. So here you are.”
“And what do they want with me?” I grit my teeth, forcing the words out.
“Apparently something you won’t want to part with. Do you know what that means?”
I fall silent, a cold surge of fear coursing through my veins. Could they be referring to my baby? But how could they possibly know?
“I have no idea,” I reply flatly, trying to guard against the possibility that I might be wrong.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll all find out in due time.” He strides to the door and pulls it open. “Sleep well. When you awaken, we’ll be in a new world, full of possibilities.”
With a final slam, he shuts the door behind him, and I crumble onto the bed, barely holding on by a thread. I scramble to the window, peering into the darkness, but there’s nothing to see. We are so far from Baev’kalath now that I can’t imagine Daed could be anywhere near.
A hollowness aches in my chest, an emptiness I thought had been filled but now feels deeper than ever. Tears flow freely, and I can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever stop. How did this happen? How could our victory slip through my fingers so quickly, allowing me to win and lose everything? What do the Ithranor want with me, and how long will they keep me hostage in these lands beyond the Untold Sea?
I glance down at my stomach. What will become of my child?
I cry for hours until the tears finally cease, leaving my eyes sore and burning, almost as much as my wrists bound behind my back. I don’t sleep. Instead, I watch the sunrise, my thoughts consumed with Daed. What if I never see him again?
The morning sun pours through the window, illuminating the horizon. In the distance, I see the silhouette of land and hear the cries of seabirds. Have we really arrived so quickly?
All I can do now is survive. Not just for myself, but for Daed and his child that I carry. I cast aside my doubts. Iwillsee him again. Because I cannot get through the next five minutes if I dare think anything different. I must preserve my strength and keep my wits about me for when he comes. Because hewillcome, and he will exact terrible vengeance on those who have wronged him.
My shoulders ease, and a smile finally finds its way onto my face as I gaze across the sun-dappled sea. A soft purr rings in my ear, and slowly Ashen slips from my hair, pattering across my shoulder before weaving his way onto the bed beside me, curling into a ball.
My poor captors.
I do not think they bargained for a hostage of smoke and vines.
