Gods—it was the bottom half of a body. It looked like the jaws of some massive creature had ripped off the upper half, leaving behind a mess of blood and entrails. A closer look at the hilt of the sword told him it was Saul—one of the three men he’d wandered into the woods with.
Killian took off running, tearing through the trees. He was in no condition to fight, though his heart throbbed so hard that he clutched his chest as the dragon inside him stirred awake. He did not enjoy the Shift—not one bit—and he fought against it as he tripped over his boots.
After a few painful minutes, he reached the roaring brown Airese River. Sprinting toward it, one hand still grasping at his chest and the other hexing before him, he cursed himself for having drank so much. Perhaps the river would’ve parted for him quicker. Instead, the waters were slow to create a path for him, and he was already splashing through a waist-high current seconds before the slick riverbed was bare and glistening beneath the sun.
Calling upon his water magic was not something he did often. Aside from occasionally summoning or waving away storm clouds, he allowed it to slumber in his blood. He’d first discovered he had the ability to manipulate the element when he and Sable had been thrown to a watery grave in the Tyrrhenia River.
A terrible roar set the mountains trembling, and Killian cried out in alarm, clawing the scarred skin over his heart. He collapsed on the other side of the riverbank, the waters sloshing noisily together as they joined once again.
He jolted awake sometime later to see the Wolf of Winter leaning over him. His white hair hung in his face, and his crimson cloak rippled in the wind. Before he could say anything, Killian rolled onto his side and threw up.
Kit Wilding frowned. “What happened to you?”
27
The captain and the princess were stunned into silence when the enchantress appeared before them in flesh and blood.
Hair whiter than snow, skin a rich sand-brown, and eyes like pools of blue ink. To most, Kaia Stormblood manifested in the form of a horrifying spirit living in a labyrinth of nightmares, but now she was allowing Avalon and Hadrian to see the truth. She was nothing more than a lonely woman confined to this beautiful house, like a genie bound to a lamp.
Or a girl trapped in a mask.
Where she stood by the oval window, staring out at the horizon in the distance, Kaia said, “I’m afraid I don’t have what you are looking for.” Tendrils of milk-white hair fluttered on a rose-scented breeze as she turned to face them. “At least, notallof the things you are looking for. I only have two of the three Tears of Hilsian.”
Beside Avalon, Hadrian remained tense, as if ready to bolt at any second. Avalon couldn’t blame him, for before Kaia had shifted into this form, she’d appeared as a Skorpio, bone-white and larger than any of the ones that had attacked them.
The captain cleared his throat, his hands always hovering in casual reach of his daggers. “Do you have any idea where we might find the third Tear?”
The enchantress drew in a breath through her nose and turned to stare longingly out the window again, at the waters rippling calmly beneath a setting sun. If it weren’t for the subtle glow beneath her unblemished skin, Avalon would’ve sworn Kaia was still mortal. No pointed ears poked through her hair; no horns, wings, or hooves, as many of the Folk possessed.
Kaia’s words were nearly inaudible when she spoke. “The Tears came to me on the hilts of swords that belonged to men deserving of death. When they stumbled in here one night, drunk on ale and bloodshed and looking for trouble, I took their lives and their treasures as payment for all the wrong they’d done—and because I knew what the Tears were. What they could do. This House is funny like that; it has opened my eyes to a great many things.”
She strolled to the armchair near the opal fireplace and slid into it, her satin dress whispering against the unmarked fabric. “The third is one of many jewels the Witch Lord Gandraian kept on his breastplate. If you desire to find it, I suggest you search the land and the waters where he fell.”
The Ice Bay.
They both nodded, and then waited for her to do something—anything—aside from stare at them with that hypnotizing gaze, as if she could see right through them.
“I will give you the Tears on one condition,” she said at last. “You must swear to find a way to sever my ties to this House.”
Hadrian’s tone was sharp as he said, “I already promised to free you. But you were clearly too busy trying to kill us and didn’t listen.”
Kaia’s arched brows flicked up.“Tryingto kill you?” She barked a laugh. “I’d barely started. And a promise isn’t a promise in this House until you draw blood.”
Avalon glanced at Hadrian, her stomach instantly turning. “Draw blood?” she stammered.
Kaia smiled broadly, white teeth sparkling. “Just a slice across the palm. Nothing to fret.”
Hadrian kept his gaze on the enchantress as he unsheathed his dagger, the metal hissing as it slid free. He continued to stare at Kaia, his eyes colder than hers as he swiftly cut a line in his palm. Blood welled instantly. He curled his fingers into a fist and wiped the blade clean on his pants before offering Avalon the hilt.
She gaped. “You do it,” she breathed. Her head was spinning.
The captain gently took hold of her left hand, and he kept his eyes locked on hers as he positioned the blade above her palm. Avalon forced herself to breathe deeply, focusing on the gold flecks in Hadrian’s irises and the feel of his rough palm cupping the back of her hand.
The blade stung as it pierced her flesh. Blood dripped to the floor.
And Kaia Stormblood smiled again, her canines catching the fading sunlight.
~
