The Onyx Vial (Shadows of The Nine Book 1) (33 page)

“But
you
have the right to accuse
me
of far worse?” Not that he cared. It didn’t matter whether she was lying. They wanted the same thing: Ruekridge. If destroying the Vial was a story that would get him there faster, so be it.  

“You two are wasting my time,” Xalen boomed, drawing their full attention. “You're both going to Ionia once Harold returns. He and George will determine if your enrollment should be reinstated once you're well out of my city.”

The temperature in the room dropped.

“
If
?” Ariana asked.

Xalen barely afforded her a glance. “If."

Killian felt lighter. Xalen must've come to the same conclusion he had. Ruekridge was the key to cooperation for them both.

Ariana huffed. “Why is my being here such a concern for you, anyway?
Your
wife and daughter helped me break out of prison. It wasn’t
my
idea.”

That was interesting. She could engender trust quickly when she wanted to, it seemed. Something he’d have to keep his eye on.

“And I only disobeyed orders when I thought the city was in danger.”

Xalen drew to his full height. She was being insolent. Surely, Xalen wouldn’t stand for it the way George did.

Killian shook his head. He had to step in before she ruined it for the both of them.

“You know about me,” he said, dropping all pretensions of arrogance. “And you threatened to tell everyone that I’m here. That means you’re a threat to the peace, same as me.” 

Ariana stiffened. Turned slowly. Her eyes, saturated with a brighter blue than he’d ever seen, burned into him. Her face was a mask. “I'm
nothing
like you. I don’t care for you. I don’t trust you
. Or
your brother.”

Such fearlessness
… He thought of how fast the life would leave her eyes if she’d said something like that to him back at the compound. He turned his face away from her. “Such flattery,” he muttered.

“But I’m willing to set that aside,” she added, loudly. “So you’ll all understand how serious I am.”

Killian reeled his attention back to her, for once, truly, caught off guard. She was a step ahead of him.

George and Xalen, too, seemed unprepared to respond to this. They all stared at her, silence resonating in the large stone room. Baron, uneasy with the quiet, let out the softest of growls.

Then George spoke. “Are you proposing to make
peace
with Prince Fyrenn?”

Killian squeezed the pendant tighter in his fist, welcoming the metal digging into his skin.

Ariana’s gaze trailed over him before slipping to George. She lifted her chin. “I’m proposing to not make
war
.”

Killian smiled inwardly.
Well played, Ariana
.  

Suddenly, Baron streaked toward the door.

“No, Baron. Hup!” Killian ordered, just as a boy no older than ten poked his head into the room.

“Gideon, back,” Xalen called.

The dog launched his weight onto the boy, knocking him to the ground. Killian started forward, his heart in his throat, expecting a helpless boy’s yelp and an attack dog’s growl.

Instead, Gideon laughed as Baron licked his face.

Killian stopped. “Baron. Hup,” he said firmly.

The dog gave the boy one last good lick, then returned obediently to Killian’s side.

Xalen reached Gideon and helped him to his feet. “Alright, son?” he asked.

Gideon’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he smiled. "Yes, father. He's just happy to see me."

A twinge of jealousy strummed on Killian's heart.

The boy turned to him. "I fixed him up good for you," he said. "Got all the arrowhead out."

Hunter felt the shock cross his face.
This
was who had tended to Baron's wound?

Gideon waved at Ariana “Hai,
Keemeone
,” he said, then turned back to his father. “Jace is awake. Said Oren’s just seen Master Harold return.”

Jace and Oren… The memory came swiftly with the smell of sweat and fear. Xalen had looked him dead in the eye, Killian's blade at his throat. "
The boy in your dreams is not you. He is real. And he is your brother."

"How do you know about the dreams?"

"Because my sons are the same. When one sleeps, his dreams are the waking hours of the other. They are twins, Prince Killian. Tieren twins."

“How long ago?” Xalen's voice pulled him back to the present.

“Just now, father,” Gideon answered.

“Excellent.” Xalen turned to George. “Harold will be expecting us.”

“We’re going to Ionia now?” Ariana asked, not masking the hope that filled her words.

George shook his head. “We need to prepare. See that everything is in order. At least half a day.”

Ariana’s shoulders sagged.

“Killian and Ariana,” Xalen said, his tone signaling that his word was law. “
Neither
of you are permitted to leave this room.” He lifted a hand before Ariana could speak against him. “And since you've agreed to get along, I’ll expect you both to be
conscious
when we return. Understood?”

An opportunity.

“Yes,” Ariana mumbled.

“Absolutely,” Killian answered, a plan already forming in his mind.

Chapter 27

As the platform rose from the black glass fields toward the entrance far above them, Ariana gazed at the sparkling city for the last time. Though she was more than ready to return to Ionia, she felt a lurking uneasiness in her gut at the thought of leaving this city. Nestled in a world saturated with the Fyrennian Faction, Bolengard was the safest place she’d ever been.

With the exception of a certain prince hiding in their midst.

She gripped the strap of her satchel tightly, imagining it was Killian’s neck.

“Can’t get me off your mind, can you?” Killian’s voice made her jump. She spun to face him, her fist instinctively poised to strike.

“You scowled.”

She dropped her hand. “What?”

George and Xalen eyed them wearily from the other corner of the platform. But they did nothing more. Ariana and Killian had already been warned: “Fight even once, and neither of you will set foot inside Ruekridge.”

She glanced at Killian’s wolf-dog, Baron. Even
he
was giving her a reproachful glare. Thankfully, George had him on a short leash, so that was the worst he could do to her.

Too bad Killian wasn't on one, too.

A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.

She wanted to smack it away.

“Your eyes asked the question,” he said. “I answered: You scowled.” When she said nothing to this, he shrugged. “It’s the same scowl you had on your face in Xalen’s off—”

Asrea cleared her throat.

Killian glanced at her and grinned. “In
Master Dae’s
office."

If he weren’t the arrogant son of a murdering tyrant, it would’ve been a cute grin.

“Every time you ignored one of my questions,” he added.

Ariana averted her eyes. He could read her that well? She hadn’t even spoken to him—despite how hard he’d tried to get her to—while they'd waited. She’d seen enough to know he was a master of manipulation. She wasn’t about to risk somehow giving him information, and losing the upper hand. But she hadn’t expected saying nothing would give him anything.

He pressed in, only a hand’s width from her now, forcing her to look at him. He grinned wider. “What did my brother do to make you so distrusting of us?” he asked, almost playfully.

Ariana lit with annoyance. That was a null question. He was smarter than that. Why would he…
He’s toying with me.

Of course. He was trying to drag the power from her hands by baiting her. He knew how to get to her. He’d done it several times already.

Then again, she’d managed to get to him, too. At least once. Maybe she could do that again.

She steadied herself, then closed the distance between them and lifted her face to within a breath of his ear. “What did
he
do?” she whispered, so Asrea wouldn’t hear. “Well, he didn’t kill his mother… But he’s still related to the person who did.”

She stepped back in time to see a flash of silver overtake Killian’s black-brown eyes. He was no longer grinning.

She didn’t bother to conceal her mirth. Her words stung him. He needed to know it was intentional.

And it seemed that he did.

He flicked the pendant from the necklace on his wrist into his palm again. She didn’t see him do it, but she heard the chain rattle and sensed the new tension in his left arm. There was also a thin veil of static building around him.

She thought of what George had said about circuits and wondered what would happen if she made that static air humid. Would it shock him enough that only Killian would notice?

Her fingers itched to try it.

But the platform came to a stop, and Xalen moved between them. “Come,” he said.

They all followed, Asrea and Ariana at the rear.

The group traversed the wide tunnel without a word between them. It wasn’t until they reached the hollow of the tower entrance that a voice broke the silence.

“Titus.” Xalen acknowledged the guard who smelled of home.

Titus nodded in greeting, stepped out of the way, and scanned each person as they passed. He looked unhappy, his already dark face darkened by unseen clouds, his lips curled in the precursor to a snarl.

He’d seemed good-spirited before. She wondered what changed him.

When his green eyes landed on her, she gave him a hopeful smile. It took a moment before recognition set in, then he smiled warmly back at her. 

So it was Killian that made him glower.

“Harold,” said Xalen, drawing Ariana’s attention away from Titus.

George eagerly approached his brother. They grabbed shoulders in the tradition of a welcomed return, and conversed in murmurs as the rest of them approached.

But Ariana halted.

Behind the Strattons was a horse. With wings.

A Stoalvenger.

She’d only ever read about them. It was common knowledge that the Fyrennians had a fleet of Stoalvengers, ridden by the Watchers who patrolled Helede like Huntsmen in Ionia. So it didn’t surprise her when Killian strode right to it. But it was shock enough to see one of the beasts somewhere other than a book.   

“Azi!” someone screeched.

Ariana barely jumped out of the way in time to avoid the small, dirt-covered boy who streaked toward them. He slammed into Asrea, and a cloud of dust billowed from the point of impact. For a moment, he seemed to have disintegrated.

Ariana ducked her head to avoid the onslaught of dust. When she looked back, the cloud had passed, leaving Jace in its wake. Gideon came up beside her. She startled, not expecting him. Both he and Jace were completely out of place in this eerily empty entrance, amongst a small, predominantly militant group of adults.

Oren clung to his sister as tightly as if he hadn’t seen her in more cycles of life than he owned. “Hai,
Keemeone
,” he said.

“Hallo, Oren,” she replied. “What are you doing here?”

Oren pried himself off his sister to exclaim proudly, “Helping!”

"Where's Jace?"

Killian shifted his weight, his eyes trained like a hawk on Gideon as he answered. "We had to alert father when Master Harold arrived."

She was missing something. The same something she’d noticed when Gideon mentioned the twins earlier. But she couldn’t figure out what.

Ariana frowned. “So Jace is... here somewhere?”

“Jace and Oren—” 

Xalen set a hand on Gideon’s shoulder and the boy stopped talking. “Son. You and your brother are supposed to be standing by Titus.”

Gideon nodded and grabbed for Oren’s hand. “Yes, father,” he said. “We’re going right now.” And they did.

As Ariana watched the boys hurry away, a bright red light erupted behind her, evaporating her curiosity about them. Her heart stuttered with excitement. She turned.

The glow of the portal book cast itself over every surface, bathing everyone in blood red. She shuddered involuntarily, the memory of the first time she’d seen that glow—and the men in her company then—resurfaced.

“Ready?” George asked. The book lay open over his and Harold’s palms.

Ariana turned to Asrea. They exchanged reluctant smiles. “I am,” she said, wishing Asrea could come along, but knowing she couldn't until the Strattons had evaluated the caliber of the school to determine if it was worth it for her.

“Hands on mine,” Harold instructed, his voice as grating and harsh as ever.

She hadn’t missed that.

Killian moved to put his hand on Harold’s, which hovered over the pages.

“Keep hold of the animals,” Xalen reminded them. "We don't want them left behind."

George nodded, and looped Baron’s leash around his other hand an extra time. Ariana stuck her hand out and added it to the pile.

“Link your arm with me,” George said to her. “Don’t want to be left behind.”

Ariana eyed him with a dry smile. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want that.” But she did as he asked.

“Ready?” Harold inquired.

No one had a chance to reply before their hands sank into the page. The light flooded around them as they were pulled through. Ariana closed her eyes.

The pressure sucked at her skin. The glow burned in red-black swirls against her eyelids. Her body stretched beyond its limits. Her lungs protested. Her mind went blank.

Something cold and hard slammed against her back. She cried out in pain and tried to stumble forward, only to find that she was lying on her back. Her mind re-oriented with gravity and her senses rushed in. It was cool here and smelled of the salty Ionian seas.

She blinked at the blurriness in her eyes, but she could only make out a dull metal wall and the shadowy silhouettes of people around her.

Two rough hands enclosed around her wrists and hauled her to her feet.

“You alright?” George asked. She could barely distinguish the features of his face, but she knew his voice—even if it sounded strange, like he was talking through a metal can.

“Where are we?” Killian asked, his voice filled with wonder, laced with that same tinny edge.

“Taking the Stoal and the dog,” Harold announced, clearly uninterested in answering Killian’s question. The next moment, he stomped away, Fenix and Baron in tow.

Or maybe the metal floors made it sound like stomping.

Finally, she worked her eyes into focus—and let out a tiny gasp.

They were in a fishbowl.

She, George and Baron stood by the only flat, metal wall of an otherwise circular room.

But it was not a fishbowl. The water—so much water—was on the opposite side of the floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Millions of glinting fish, in varied sizes and colors, flitted through the jewel-blue water. The sight of it made her smile.

Her gaze shifted to Killian, who stood so close to the glass she wondered if he might not have been pressing his face against it a moment earlier. His guard was down, plainly enthralled by the sight of so much water. But his face was oddly pale. She turned her face to hide her snicker.

With her eyes off the walls, she was able to take in the mass that occupied most of the room’s floor space. Encircling the glass floor in the center of the room was a deeply cushioned white sofa with no gaps. The back was low enough that the only way onto the couch was, clearly, by climbing over.

It was so tempting she almost walked over and flopped onto the cushions. Instead, she looked at George, with Baron struggling against his rope.

“So, where are we?” she asked.

George let go of Baron’s leash. The wolf-dog bounded onto the couch and over to the window, planting his nose against the glass.

“From what Harold has told me,” George said, “the Captain’s pre-submersion estimation puts us off the coast of Gailleonne."

So Harold had traveled a good bit when he had taken Hunter the Vial. Gailleonne was two provinces away from Ladria.

"Somewhere near the Isles of Deltorra.”

Shock rippled through her. “The Isles of Deltorra?”
Fyrennian territory
. She eyed Killian. His face was unreadable as always, except for the paleness of his skin, tinged with the barest green.

“Captain Leeward assured Harold we’d be nowhere dangerous when we entered his vessel,” George said.

“But the Isles
are
dangerous.” She could hardly speak the words through her constricted throat.

“Going under them,” Harold said from behind her, startling her into turning around.

He was on the last step of a narrow metal staircase that ducked through a hole in the ceiling and disappeared. She hadn’t even noticed it.

Harold looked at George. “Captain wants to meet,” he said.

George nodded. “Ariana. Killian. Come,” he said, and climbed the steps behind his brother.

Ariana dropped her satchel next to the sofa-back and followed, anxious to know if the Captain would give his reasons for taking such a dangerous route to Ruekridge. Or if they could even trust him to know where Ruekridge was.

She sensed Killian behind her, but she didn’t turn to see how he was faring. She imagined he’d wobbled a little walking over to the stairs.

They emerged in a small common area with rounded walls. There were several doors, all closed but two, which opened into wedge-shaped bedrooms. Each had a wide circular window that looked out into the water. The walk-space between the rooms’ doors and the railing guarding the stairs in the middle of the common area was wide enough for three people to stand shoulder to shoulder. But it wasn’t comfortable.

She wiggled out of the cluster they’d formed and gave herself some space.

The door beside her squeaked and fell away.

Ariana stepped back as a grizzled man with overly-freckled skin and a slate grey beard appeared in the newly open doorway. He was as tall as Harold and filled every bit of space in the doorway. He probably would’ve passed as a member of the Strattons’ Elite Ops team without question. But to Ariana, he was like seaweed, swaying ever so slightly from years of living with the water.