The Shadow Prince
Page 106“Who? I mean, where is he, then?”
“This is Underlord craftsmanship. So my guess—his father. Haden’s in the Underrealm, and he probably has no idea what’s going on.”
“Can he get hurt there?” I ask. Haden’s father is the one person Haden seems truly afraid of. What would he do if he thought Haden had gone off the rails with his quest?
“Yes,” Dax says. “If something bad were to happen to him there … the connection between his soul and body could be severed permanently.”
He grabs Haden’s shoulders and shakes him with what strength he can muster. “Snap out of it!”
I could run right now, I realize. I could take off this very second. Haden isn’t here to stop me, and Dax is in no condition to follow. I could escape all this destiny nonsense. I wouldn’t have to be this Cypher or vessel or Anoich—something or whatever—if they couldn’t find me. I could choose to go.
I could be done with all of this if I just run right now.
I reach for the keys to the Tesla that dangle from Haden’s pocket. His body convulses in my grasp. His mouth forms what looks like a scream, but no sound comes out. Tears well in the corners of his wide-open eyes.
I drop the car keys and cup my hands under his chin. “Haden!” I say into his ear. “Haden, come back! I need you here.”
Chapter fifty-seven
“What’s your report?” my father demands. He rises from his ebony throne.
Report?
What’s going on?
How am I even here?
Where is Daphne? And Dax and the others?
A few short months ago, all I wanted to do was return to my home in the Underrealm—to leave the chaos and discomfort of the mortal world behind. I dreamed of my return. Longed for it. Now I am desperate to figure out why I am here—and how to get back to where I was only seconds ago.
“Have you found Haden yet?” my father says. He must think he’s speaking to someone else. My head is lowered, so he must not recognize me—or perhaps it’s because he never looks directly at a subordinate if it isn’t necessary.
How did I get here? And how do I get back?
I look at the amulet in my hand and the answer dawns on me. A communications talisman. I’ve heard the Heirs speak of them and how they work, but I have never actually seen one before. I try to cast it away, but it seems to be seared into my hand. I can’t let it go.
I raise my head. “It won’t do you much good, seeing as how Simon is already dead.”
My father startles at the sound of my voice. “What is the meaning of this?” he says, drawing his sword. “Where is my emissary? How did you get this talisman?” He must be flustered to spare so many words for me.
“Simon’s dead,” I say, rising to my feet. “I killed him.” Brim had done the deed, but technically I had finished it.
“You?” He narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t believe it. Simon was one of my best, and you’re nothing but a weak, simpering nursling.”
“And yet I still scare you enough to cause you to draw your sword.”
Ren glances at the blade he brandishes in his hand. He lowers it ever so slightly. I glance around the throne room and see that we are completely alone. It’s unlike Ren to be without his royal guard, attendants, and advisors. He must be sorely agitated or in dire need of privacy. Is the Court truly turning against him?
“Besides, Simon may have been a fierce opponent, but he was hardly your best. He’d betrayed you,” I say, hitting on what I suppose to be a sore spot for Ren. “He’d turned on you. Your loyal servant was planning on selling the Cypher—the Key along with it—to the highest bidder. The Skylords.”
“You know about the Key?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Are you planning on betraying me, too, then?” Ren shoves the tip of his sword so it’s only inches from my face.
“Can you even hurt me with that here?” I say, referring to my astral state. I am outside of my body, so how can he cut me?
“No,” my father says. “But your soul is made of energy, which means I can still hurt you with this.” Streaks of blue lightning crackle up his sword, swirling around the blade. I can feel the heat and the rhythm of electricity and I know he’s not bluffing. “Do you know what happens if I cut you off from your body while you are here?” Ren says loudly enough that I can hear him over the pulse in my ears. “You’ll never find your way back to it. You’ll become just another one of those nameless, faceless nothings that roam the Wastelands. Banished to being a hungry, desperate shade for the rest of eternity.”
“You won’t do it. You need me.”
Ren responds by slashing his electrified sword in the air, sending the swirl of lightning sailing at my chest. I grit my teeth, absorbing the blow and letting it flow back out of me the best I can. I’ve taken worse hits in training, but the pain is still enough to force me to my knees.
“That was just a warning blow, boy,” Ren says. “Just to show you that I can touch you here. The next one won’t be so pleasant.” He walks back to his throne and picks up a small vessel made of pottery, from under the ebony seat. I take a few deep breaths while his back is turned, to regain my strength.
He returns with the vessel and holds it out in front of me. “This is water from the river Styx, the River of Unbreakable Vows. On the Oracle’s behest, I made a vow with this water during the Choosing Ceremony, in which I covenanted that whoever brought the Cypher to me would become my heir. My successor. That is what you want, isn’t it, boy? You want to belong. You want to sit at my right hand. You want your honor restored. I am prepared to give you all of that, but you must do one thing for me.” He dumps the water from the vessel onto the ground in front of where I kneel. It splashes and pools around my knees. “You make an unbreakable vow that you will bring the Cypher to me. The words will be written in the water, and I can use that to show the Court that you haven’t forgotten your quest, that you haven’t gone off the path. To prove to them that you are worthy of being called my son.”