The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 13: The Unwelcome

Burning a hole in the wall was as simple a task as I had claimed it to be. Dante hovered near as I focused on directing the light in my blood to a single point at the tip of my finger. It took a little more concentration than I would ever admit to anyone out loud, but it had been so long since I'd been allowed to actually touch my power. It had been just one of the many rules that governed my life in the palace, and with time, the control I'd spent my entire life building disappeared. I became nothing more than a pretty, glittering ornament in the Edreshian court.

But no more. The light I carried did more than just shine, and as it finally poured out of my body, igniting the thorns in silver flames, I stepped back and smiled. Dante gasped as the fire ate through the thorns, offering the first glimpse of our home. It was almost as if he hadn't believed I could do it.

"Don't let the fire grow too bright," Yoko whispered, pulling the horses around us to shield the glow from anyone who might be looking. We had chosen the spot Hyllie told us about–the one behind a small thicket of trees. However, in the dead of night, it wouldn't be difficult to glimpse the flickering of silver light through the gaps between the trees.

I bit back a sharp remark. Yoko didn't mean to sound bossy or condescending. She might have been a simple soldier in the royal army, but she had been born to be a general. Yet even generals bowed before queens. It was another thing we would have to address on the other side of this wall. One more obstacle in the way of our life together.

"There," I said, drawing the light back into myself with a wince. A hole just big enough to lead a horse through gaped before us, its edges all charred and softly glowing embers. "It'll be a tight fit."

"Good girl," Dante practically purred, earning a hiss from Yoko and a glare from me, even as something strange and golden unfurled inside me in response to the velvet caress of his praise against my ears.

"Dante..."

"Apologies, my queen." He ducked his head. "Old habits."

Yoko slapped his reins into his hands. "Old habits that best die quickly."

"Aye, aye." He saluted.

"I'll go first," Yoko said, elbowing between Dante and me before I could protest. Her slender frame fit through the gap in the wall easily, but the horse whinnied and snorted as thorns pricked its flesh.

"She's quite fierce, your woman."

His tone was casual as we waited for the all clear from Yoko, but his green eyes were anything but when they flicked over to me. I ignored the question there. Even if I had been thinking about the practicality and politics of marrying him earlier, now was not the time for us to have that conversation.

"She–"

"Dante, please. I'm trying to listen for Yoko's signal."

He gave a brief grunt in response, and I settled my weight into the back of my heels, wishing I could risk enough light to see what was happening on the other side. Just when I was about to call out for her, there was a decidedly un-Yoko like shriek through the thorns, and I rocked forward, my heart racing.

"Astreia, wait!" Dante demanded, grabbing me around the waist as I plunged into the brambles.

"Let me go."

The man had iron in his arms. I was certain of it because they did not budge as I bucked in his grip or hit him. Thorns scraped my cheeks as he tugged me back onto Yorkton's side. Blood trickled from the cuts, nearly scalding in the chill of the night, and against my back, I felt a thudding beat that matched mine.

"Listen," he commanded. His steady breathing did not betray his unsteady heart, and as I calmed, so did he. Body curling around mine, he rested his chin on my shoulder, eyes trained on the hole ahead.