Queen of Stars and Shadows (Dark Fae Guardian #3)

Sarielle

Chapter Eight

Sarielle

F rom our hiding place in the tree line at the top of the hill, we look down on the castle ruins in the valley below. I can see winged shadows moving in and out between the crumbled stone walls and piles of collapsed rubble. The sun is setting over it all, a single amber beam illuminating the remaining tower which stands haphazardly in the middle, large chunks of it missing.

It was the tower that helped me identify this place, a location known by everyone in Eldare, the site of an ancient battle where two warring houses annihilated each other, leaving almost no survivors. In the ancient tongue, this valley is known as Torlochnarron , place of endings. I pray to any goddess that will hear me that this isn’t our place of ending.

All I can see in my head, whenever I blink, are those blood-soaked strands of golden hair.

“This place isn’t far from the royal palace,” Zara says from where she’s crouched at my left shoulder. “It’s surprising no one has noticed the nightmares coming and going.”

“The king and queen hold their court, the Court of Oaks, in a city occupied by only the royal families of Eldare,” I say. “They don’t allow the commoners to live there. I highly doubt any of them would notice. It’s still a dozen or so miles from here.”

“You’ve been there?” Asher asks.

I shake my head. “I was never allowed to travel. None of the priestesses were. We all lived behind the gates of the Amethyst Palace.”

“We know a bit about never being able to travel beyond your walls,” Zara says with a wry smile.

I nod. Of course—the City of Night, where Zara and Asher came from, had been cut off from the rest of Aureon for two hundred years by a magical wasteland, rumored to have been infested with terrible monsters.

“So, what’s our plan?” Owyn asks.

Three sets of eyes land on me. I am queen of the things we hunt, so it falls to me, not that my title means much in this circumstance. The nightmares would sooner kill me than submit to my rule.

“The nightmares are connected mentally, so once we attack one, the rest will know. We eliminate all of them, except one. I need one to show me where the other rifts are. Or at least the one it came in through. Then we search for any survivors.”

Asher eyes me, his head cocked to the side. “It doesn’t bother you to kill them? Being your subjects?”

I meet his gaze unflinchingly. “Not all nightmares are evil. Just as with fae, or any other race, there is a spectrum of good and bad. But these nightmares have killed people, and they’re beyond redemption. Let’s hope there are survivors, but if not, at least we can prevent further citizens of Eldare from being dragged from their beds at night.”

Zara nods. “That’s a cause I’ll fight for. Let’s go.”

We move from the cover of the trees, making our way down into the valley along a boulder-strewn deer trail. It provides somewhat decent coverage, though if any of the nightmares look this way, they’ll likely see us amidst the rocks. When we make it to the valley floor without incident, just as the last of the sun falls from the sky, I let out a sigh of relief.

Asher leads the way as we jog across the valley floor toward the ruins. Low fingers of fog creep across the ground, snaking through the ruins ahead. Everything is eerily quiet, as if the place is abandoned. Perhaps the nightmares are sleeping. Resting before they rise in the dead of night to claim more prey.

When we pass through the first ring of stone walls, stepping through a gaping hole created by a collapse, the air turns icy cold and mist spirals up around us. I can almost taste the magic here, dark magic woven by the nightmares. And deep inside of me, that part that is nightmare shivers as if answering a call. It’s such an unsettling feeling that my steps falter, and it’s that slight pause that saves my life.

The nightmare that’d been hiding on the other side of the wall falls directly in front of me, its wing scraping my cheek. I duck as it lunges for me, and then I pull my dagger and cut upward, slicing through its abdomen as it darts forward once again. It lets out a loud, sharp cry as it dies, and the night explodes around us.

Ahead of me, Zara and Asher charge into a wave of nightmares coming from every direction. They materialize out of the dark and the stone as if they’d been hiding in little cracks in reality. They come from roosts above us as well as ground-level, a dozen at least. Behind me, Owyn spins to face two as they drop over the wall. I test my magic, but it’s just as weak as before, so I let it flow away. I’ll have to rely on steel for this battle.

I run for Owyn. He dispatches one of the nightmares with a blast of magic before I can reach him, but the other attacks him from behind. I sink my dagger into its back while it’s occupied. It shrieks in agony and spins to face me. I crouch down, blade in hand, slippery with black blood. The thing lunges for me, but Owyn hits it with magic and it dissolves into a pile of ash at my feet.

With a nod of thanks, I turn and we charge back through the hole in the wall to help Zara and Asher. The scene that meets my eyes is utter chaos. There are already several dead nightmares on the ground, but the initial wave of them seems to have doubled in size. I count at least twenty of the monsters, and more seem to keep coming. How are we going to fight this many? I feel like dead weight with nothing but a dagger.

Zara, Asher, and Owyn at least still seem to have enough power to take them down. They fight with magic while I fight with steel. But no sooner does one nightmare fall than another takes its place. I quickly find my strength faltering. That’s when I notice another strange sensation in my body.

That dark part of me, my nightmare blood, my inner beast, is stirring restlessly. The more I use my shadow magic, the stronger she gets. This deep, primal part of me. It broke free the day Avonia attacked the Court of Nightmares, and it nearly killed Zyren on the way to the Court of Memory. My mother told me in the family book to trust this part of me, but I can’t help but wonder…

Is this the dark magic Avonia tapped into to release some of the nightmares? The magic that separates the nightmares who have humanity from the ones who are pure beast?

And what if this part of me is the only thing that can save us right now?

I tremble with both the effort to keep fighting the onslaught bearing down on us, and the battle within to keep this dark urge from consuming me. Enemies are falling all around us, their bodies littering the ground, their blood soaking the earth. If I can only keep standing for a few more minutes…

A shadow overhead is the only warning a moment before sharp claws dig into my shoulders and I’m lifted off the ground. I can’t even scream because the air is so quickly ripped from my lungs. Icy air swooshes around me as I’m carried through the sky, and agony pulses through my body where the nightmare’s claws are embedded in my flesh. Owyn screams my name, but it already sounds far, far away.

I’m flung to a stone parapet on the opposite side of the ruins, my bones cracking painfully, and the breath once again shoved from my lungs. The nightmare lands a moment later and looms over me, glowing orange eyes narrowing with malice. It snaps its jagged teeth, a low growl issuing from its throat. A flap of leathery wings, and then it lunges for my chest. I realize that I’ve dropped my dagger. I have nothing to defend myself with.

And then the thing shrieks as a wave of shadow rolls toward us. It leaps skyward to escape, but a pulse of magic like a black spear impales it and flings it to the side. A figure strides toward me, black cloak billowing out around him.

Zyren.

I blink, not believing what I’m seeing. Perhaps I hit the stone too hard, perhaps I’m delusional. Perhaps I’m just seeing what I so desperately want to see.

But when he stops before me, and his storm-gray eyes hit mine, it’s unmistakably my husband. He reaches down and pulls me to my feet.

“Zyren!” I gasp.

My head spins and I wobble on my feet, but he holds me up. I lean against him, a feeling so right, so familiar... I know he doesn’t remember me, but I can’t help myself. My free hand slides up his chest, feeling the warm beat of his heart against my fingers. Our hips brush together, and his magic swirls around us, a shield of shadows enclosing us in our own personal universe. That darkness within me crawls upward, wanting him closer, closer…

I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, needing to taste his skin, his breath. My hand slides up into his hair, and a shudder moves through me, of relief, and longing, and desire. “Goddess, I’ve missed you,” I murmur against his mouth. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Footsteps ring across the stone behind us, and Zyren stiffens, pulling back.

“Well done,” calls a voice from the darkness.

I look over Zyren’s shoulder and my heart drops to my feet. There, emerging from the shadows, is Jonavus. And right on his heels, Avonia. She smiles, a twist of the lips sharper than any blade.

“You’re proving yourself quite useful, Zyren,” Avonia says. “You’ve brought us the traitorous queen.”