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With each ripple she’d created in the shadows, they’d grown more anxious, until several guards had sent out an alert to be vigilant against attack from the mind and of the spirit. She wanted no alert; the order she had been given by her brother Drac, the Archduke of the northern keep of the Darkage, was to remain undetected from the Nurians—a difficult situation with soldiers vigilant for attack.
Tehdra snarled in frustration. She was a warrior, decisive and brutal, not a spy. She had needed a simple way to infiltrate King Ajali’s castle, and now it seemed she had to transform herself into a hari pleasing to the King. And this was the opposite of keeping her distance.
“Are you sure there is no other way?” she asked the man huddled beside her. Please let there be another way. The last thing she desired was to be so close to a man for whom her beast roared. Nothing must distract her from uncovering the traitors hiding in Nuria.
“I have been living in Nuria, Tehdra El Kyn, for twenty years. The castle Shelah is impenetrable,” Bylan said flatly, his dark eyes serious.
She had spent more than a week in Nuria, seeking her people in the shadows, and had discovered Bylan. He had established himself as a Nurian citizen, a respectable high merchant of Hoadecia, one of wealth who had sufficient influence to help her maneuver and infiltrate Shelah.
“Have you not been living in the town of Hoadecia?”
He shifted as if on edge. “I may have resided out of Adara, but many times I moved with the darkness arming myself with knowledge in the event it was revealed to the Nurians that a Darkan lived in their midst. I have learnt much from the shadows.”
Tehdra considered his words. They were perched high in a massive tree buried in Nuria’s mountains gazing at the castle from a bird’s eye view, scanning all its entrances, traps and weak points. She smiled in admiration. No weak points existed. She had never seen anything as impressive as King’s Ajali castle in all her three hundred years. The castle Shelah boasted a thousand rooms with several wings—one alone housed all of the king’s concubines. Rumor had it that several hundred women—exotic beauties from the six kingdoms—existed in his harem to please his every whim. Now she found that hard to believe. What would one king do with hundreds of women? It was surely impossible that he could bed them all as stories whispered.
Her beast stirred, and a hiss slipped from her throat. She ignored Bylan’s curious glance. “I cannot slip in and out of the shadows. Somehow several of the warriors sense me in the darkness.”
“No you cannot,” he murmured almost soothingly. “It is the power of the witch buried inside of them.” He twisted sitting on the high branch, his leg dangling, the flowing blue robe he wore swishing. “Will you reveal to me your agenda? Mayhap then I could be of more help?”
He froze in the act of removing his headband under her stare. She welcomed the viciousness that peeked from her eyes, and did not subdue her savagery.
“I see.” He swallowed and smiled tightly. “Is it safe for me to assume that our relationship now terminates?”
She threw a bag of gold and his hand darted out to catch its heavy weight.
“You gave me all the information you have gleaned from living in this land?”
“I have.”
Tehdra held his gaze until he twitched. She frowned. Darkans did not fidget. “Will I have to kill you, Bylan?” She murmured her tone smooth and toneless.
He smiled at her gently. “Nay, you will not, Tehdra El Kyn. I escaped the Darkage to live away from the brutality of our kind. I have a tsari, to whom I am happily wed, who bore me three fine children. I do not know enough to betray you, and I have only aided you because you found me in the shadows. I urge you to consider…If you attack, you may not win.”
Tehdra’s laugh pulsed from her throat, low and dangerous. “Living in these lands has changed you, Sir Bylan. I can taste your fear. Our relationship has concluded. Depart.”
The shadows surged, swallowing him, and leaving her alone.
Tehdra slammed her hand into the tree, shattering the bark. She had to be in the light to complete her mission. Her directives were simple, yet dangerous. Infiltrate the Nurian castle, and rem
ove all traces of her people. Assassins from Mevia, the kingdom of sound, worked with traitors from her kingdom to kill the Nurian King, and also to unseat her Darkan king from his throne. To what end, they had yet to discover. Above all else, the death of the Nurian king must not be laid at the feet of Darkans.
Or war would visit her home further obscuring the beauty and rich culture they wanted to share with their world. Because her people would retaliate with the cruelty and brutality they were known and feared for, unfolding a third Great War of Amagarie and undoing all that her king worked for—prosperity for the Darkage.
Tehdra launched from the tree, landing with predatory grace, and moved with the shadows into Adara, the City of Fire and Nuria’s hub of activity, ferreting information and plotting her next move. She entered a grand tavern unseen. Tehdra slid into a booth and slouched deep into a chair, and several moments later, a server placed a goblet in front of her. She sipped the famed Nurian wine as she surveyed the crowd, ensuring no one thought her presence suspicious. She drew the shadows to her, so that if anyone glanced in her direction, they would be unable to provide a description.
Bylan had gleaned that King Ajali’s realm of alliance, Aria, the kingdom of earth and sands, sought beauties to gift the king for his harem. She unrolled the parchment Bylan had provided. It held the name and location of another Darkan posturing as an Arian, hoping to live a normal life away from the viciousness of their realm. She assessed the information, accepting the inevitability of becoming one of King Ajali’s concubines. Taking such a step…it would be inevitable for him to take her to his bed. She fought the ripple of response between her thighs; she would have to be ruthless in preventing herself from falling for the king.
With three unladylike gulps Tehdra emptied the goblet and shiktred—used the shadows to travel—from the grand tavern to the inn, her temporary abode. Within a few minutes she had her minuscule belongings packed, the room cleared of all evidence she had ever been present and her tab was discreetly paid.
Tehdra shiktred, travelling thousands of miles with unparalleled speed from Nuria to arrive in Aria in less than a day. Tehdra hoped to uncover something that would aid her mission before she approached her contact.
Her darker side inhaled in pleasure at the stories repeated in hushed whispers of his feats during the second Great War of Amagarie. The Nurian King was powerful, respected, revered, and feared. Many called him a tyrant for he had slain thousands in the last war. It was also well-known that he despises Darkans. Nothing unusual there, the Darkage was a shadow world, where all its citizens possessed the chakras of demons, for which they were reviled. While unease had stirred inside her at such wanton destruction, her beast had luxuriated in his savagery.
Nuria was the only kingdom of Amagarie that controlled and wielded fire with mastery and deadly destruction. They honed their chakra to such a level they were able to bend and reshape their weapons with fire and utilize them as extensions of themselves.
All warriors of the seven kingdoms in Amagarie honed their taijiu—dismembering and killing with their hands at close range—to an art. But to develop such skills the Nurians possessed was unheard. She absorbed the stories of swords being aflame. Was enraptured by tales of their ability to meld and bend weapons into liquid fire. Her beast loved it, and fear sliced through Tehdra. Her king, Gidon Al Shar’s throne was threatened by the kingmaker—a man who was a shadow in Amagarie, lauded for his brilliance and cunning. His identity had been a mystery for centuries, and whenever he stirred, destruction ensued because he was brutal and incited anarchy. If Gidon fell to an assassin’s blade, there would be no heir to take his place. The Darkage would choose its next leader based on traits it respected—cunning and ruthlessness. Even with the kingmaker’s promise of a new leader he had selected for their realm, the fight for who would rule if Gidon was murdered would stain their kingdom with bloodshed.
She needed her wits about her while she hunted the betrayers; nothing in her should be panting after King Ajali. Her kingdom needed her, and she could not fail. Her brother had fallen in love so deeply with his mate, that when assassins had taken her, he had betrayed the royal family, which had almost resulted in their annihilation. Hundreds had died, including her king’s sisters and brothers. Though the El Kyn line had been spared from retribution, the stain of their brother’s treachery lived on. She could never atone fully for his perfidy, but she wouldn’t open herself to a weakness like love, which could cause her to betray Gidon. She had to be strong and incorruptible, where Vlad had been weak. Tehdra was grateful she was not bonded with her demon beast, for surely it would be flooding her soul with lust for the king.
