Gathering Darkness

He pushed himself up and found that he was lying on a cot in a small, dark room. He made his way over to a window to his right, and, ignoring the spinning in his head, gasped at the scene outside. Dark water—as far as the eye could see—under a black curtain of night.

“We’re on our way to Limeros,” a low voice said.

He spun around to find Ashur standing in the shadows. Without a single thought, Nic attacked. He tried to land a blow on the prince’s perfect face, but Ashur grabbed Nic’s arm and twisted it behind his back hard enough to make Nic gasp in pain.

“Be quiet, you fool,” Ashur growled. “She’ll hear you.”

“You’re going to break my arm.”

“Not if you stay quiet.”

“Fine.”

Ashur held on for a moment longer before he released Nic, who then turned around and punched him in the jaw. The prince whipped his head to the side, but didn’t try to retaliate. He rubbed his chin, grimacing. “I deserved that.”

Nic glared at him, his fist aching and still clenched . “I’m going to kill you.”

“No, you won’t. Not after you hear me out.”

“Hear you out?” Nic shouted. “Why? Do you have more lies you want to tell me?”

Ashur pressed his hand against Nic’s mouth and shoved him back against the wall, his expression fierce and angry. “If she knows you’re awake and making trouble, she’ll have someone put you back to sleep. Permanently, if she gets her way. You’re only alive now because I convinced her we need you.”

Nic shoved his hand away. “How helpful. Thanks so much.” This time, however, he kept his tone low, barely louder than a whisper.

Ashur nodded. “That’s better.”

“I aim to please.”

“I know you hate me.”

“You deceived me, drugged me, and threw me on a ship against my will. I think I have every good reason to hate you. I would have handed King Gaius your arse on a platter if I’d known what you were really like.”

“My sister is ambitious. We’d never shared any of the same interests until recently. I’ve always been more of an explorer than her, and my explorations led me to the legends of Mytica. I found myself fascinated by them, enough to come here personally to investigate.”

Nic stared at him, exasperated. “Are you going to tell me your full life history? Seems I have time to hear it, doesn’t it, locked up here on this ship?”

Ashur regarded him bemusedly and sat down in a nearby chair. It was the only piece of furniture in the room other than the uncomfortable cot Nic had gotten to know very well. “You need to hear this because it’ll help you make your decision.”

“What decision?”

“Whether or not you want to help me.”

Nic laughed, a sound that was dry and humorless even to his own ears. “You used me. You played a hilarious game of ‘trick Nic,’ and it worked perfectly.”

“It wasn’t a game to me.” Ashur sighed. “Not all of it.”

“Speak. Say what you need to say, then leave me alone. Or kill me. One or the other.” He really shouldn’t be putting ideas into the prince’s mind. Perhaps it would be a good idea for him to just keep his mouth shut and listen.

“It didn’t take long for Amara to grow interested in the Kindred. I was a fool to tell her anything about them, or of the legends of the Watchers. But I told her everything. I suppose I was just looking for someone to talk to, since our father had no time for me, and our brothers always seemed to be busy either commanding Father’s armada to earn their glory or presiding over court when at home. Amara listened carefully and attentively, but I had no idea how serious she was until she arrived here with a plan to find the Kindred, no matter what it took.”

“And here we are,” Nic said with distaste. “You two make a fantastic team.”

“No, not a team. I don’t approve of her tactics. I am quite disgusted by her desire for power.”

This was hard to believe, to say the least. “And what do you want the crystals for? To decorate an empty shelf?”

“That’s more along the lines of how I think they should be dealt with. The Kindred are dangerous—collectively and individually. My aim is to keep these crystals from those who would abuse their power.”

“If you say so.”

Ashur had the nerve to smile at this, which annoyed Nic deeply.

“What’s funny?” he demanded.

“You are.”

“Great. Just what I need right now: confirmation that I can still be a source of entertainment even after having been unconscious for—How long was I out?”

“Almost two days.”

“Two days. No wonder I’m so thirsty.” Nic raked a hand through his hair, knowing it must be sticking up in every direction. “If you say you’re so damn noble—”

A shadow crossed Ashur’s expression. “I never said I was noble. I’ve done unforgivable things in my past, but I’m different now. I’m trying to be better.”

He wanted to keep arguing, but the prince was actually getting through to him. He hated that he wanted to believe that Ashur had done this in an attempt to right his sister’s actions, but it didn’t change anything.

Nic needed to see Cleo again. Whatever he had to do to survive this, he would do. He had to know she was all right.

“Why didn’t you let Princess Amara kill me?” he asked.