Page 8 of The Serpent Prince

Blood spurted from huge gashes across their attackers’ chests, and many of them collapsed in a wave with each falling over, one after the other.

It had taken time for whatever magic he’d cast to build, but once it had, the spell cut down anyone in Kiran’s radius within seconds. Even while calling it back, Kiran’s spell continued slashing the air around him, and power still vibrated through the area, unlike anything Imani had ever felt.

The sheer show of magic cowed everything and everyone in the area into a terrified, shaking state. Exhausted, small groups barely milled about, and people plopped onto the ground as they took time to recover from the onslaught that was Kiran’s power.

CHAPTER 3

With the princes’ magic keeping the wild witches from both kingdoms away from their traveling party, they prepared to set off again across the bridge.

A foreboding chill surrounded their entire caravan. All the Essenheim witches held their wands tightly, ready to strike at any attack. They were on edge as the group was about to set off into the nightmare that was Niflheim.

Fires from the lightning strikes burned aimlessly around them, and belongings were strewn across the grass haphazardly. Huge puddles of mud and rain soaked the singed grass. None of the border patrol workers were in sight.

The remnants of Kiran’s magic burned her nose in the damp air as they clambered into their carriage. Inside, water dripped everywhere from their clothes and hair, but Imani’s trunk was safe, and it was at least a bit warmer.

Such destruction seemed like an overreaction from the two princes. But she wondered if it might have been a message to Tanyl—a warning of what was to come.

The line was tedious. Their luxurious carriage rocked back and forth, the horses slowly inching along until they descended onto the bridge where water rushed by in a rapid stream underneath them. If the day could have grown darker, it did. The clouds blotted out the blue sky, so dense that almost no sunlight filtered through them.

They were entering Niflheim.

Rain started falling again, splatting heavily on the roof and dripping down the windows. Imani sat back, realizing just how long it was going to take them to get across. Esa followed suit. Both witches were putting on brave faces, but apprehension filled the air.

Imani hated seeing the ruined sky and hearing all the rain. No ribbons of light danced across the horizon here. Magic had grown out of control, and if the horror of Niflheim’s blackened skies told them anything, it was that people of all breeds would likely keep repeating the same mistakes. Her kingdom was no better, if she was honest with herself.

How could they hope to save themselves amongst such hubris?

Imani felt nerves bite at her as she thought about the new magic coursing through her veins. Something in the display from the princes had woken it up. She could feel a separate layer of magic in her veins wanting to be set free; she could feel it coalescing with her birth-born magic, almost as if the two were merging together.

Tremors threatened to give away her anxiety, but she forced her body to remain still until the feeling passed, which it had to, eventually.

“I had a dream about Tanyl becoming king,” Esa said, breaking the silence. “Isn’t that strange?”

Imani snapped her head to attention. Esa rarely offered personal information so freely. The pixie looked tight-lipped, but something in the twist of her mouth made Imani believe Esa was willing to say a bit more.

Clearing her throat, Imani replied, “It is strange.” A pause. “Actually, I’ve been thinking since we heard the news about Tanyl that there’s something not quite right about him becoming king. Not that I’d know anything about it for certain,” she added quickly.

A spark of curiosity lit Esa’s eyes. “You don’t believe Tanyl is the true monarch? Why in the realms would you think that? It would be generous to say such a statement is a stretch. He was named heir apparent at birth, and he’d still have to contend with the true monarch, not to mention glamouring the crown so well that no one saw through it.”

Imani shrugged. “An heir apparent is never a guarantee. And isn’t it possible he’s found a way to make it seem like the crown chose him?”

The pixie tilted her head and gave Imani an incredulous look. “I’m willing to believe a lot of impossible things, but that is just truly an insane statement to make without proof.”

Scowling, Imani crossed her arms. “Kiran said himself that Tanyl is in bed with some dangerous, powerful people. I think that’s enough to at least consider it.”

“I refuse to believe you’re basing this theory on one piece of information from Kiran.” Esa sighed and ran her fingers up and down the velvet curtains. She looked like she wanted to say more.

“What do you know?” Imani leaned forward conspiratorially.

Esa’s responding grin was positively wolfish. “I might have my own conjecture to contribute on the subject, but I’m going to need more before I share. What makes you believe Tanyl is an imposter?”

Imani was quite clearly going mad to admit this out loud, but she reasoned it might be the only way to survive in the world they were about to enter. Was it naïve to think Esa might have been telling the truth about being on her side? Maybe. It still hurt immensely when she remembered Esa betraying her, and her kissing Kiran. But Imani needed allies and access to information, even if they were lying backstabbers she couldn’t trust. She’d just have to be smart and careful this time—protect her heart more.

“My divination ability makes me believe it,” she explained. “I saw something—something that, along with what Kiran said, convinced me.”

Pursing her lips, Imani considered what else to share. Suddenly, a boom of thunder sounded overhead, and the bridge shook. The horses reared up outside and, with a lurch, the carriage came to a halting stop. Imani’s heart pounded as shouting outside grabbed their attention, but she couldn’t make out the words.

After another painfully long moment, they rolled forward, creeping along again.