Obsidian's Reign ¹

∷ Chapter 37 ∷

CLARA COULD BARELY keep her breathing steady as she hurried down the hallway and away from the throne room. The king's sudden arrival had been awkward and suffocating for her. Though she knew she was doing a commendable job at keeping her calm facade, she was, in actuality, freaking out.

To make matters worse, the king had remained silent from the second he'd made his appearance, going so far as to stare at her through narrowed eyes as though suspecting her of a fact he was yet to be the wiser. It couldn't be more obvious then that he did not trust her as far as he was capable of throwing her.

Largely aware of the weapon stashed in the underside pocket of her gown, and the way the king was scrutinising her with close regard, Clara wanted nothing more than to leave. And she could only thank her lucky stars for his easy manner when she'd sputtered a lie about needing a moment's rest in her chambers.

It was stupid, really, and though she wondered how the king could fall for such nonsense, she wasn't about to question it. She was thankful he didn't put up much of a protest when she declared it was time for her to take her leave.

The king said nothing, merely gesturing towards a door at the end of the library—one that wasn't there before—and indicating her means of leaving. Though she thought it odd, she adhered to his unspoken words. The second she stepped over the door's barrier, a gust of wind engulfed her and the next thing she knew, she was back in the throne room.

She staggered into the hallway, a little rattled from her misadventures, and bumped into someone who was turning the corner. A firm grip found its way around her shoulders as she was steadied before being hauled upright.

"Prince Adric," she gasped, suddenly remembering it was him who'd accompanied her in the first place.

She never knew how desperate she was for the company of a familiar and non-threatening person until she was seeing the prince right in front of her. Before she could stop herself, she flung herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him in a deathlike grip; afraid that if her hold was much too weak, he would somehow dissipate.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she said despite his annoyance and the frown settling deep into his features.

When he finally managed to pull away from the hug, he heaved a heavy sigh, asking in disgruntlement, "Are you hurt?"

Clara shook her head.

"I'm okay."

Adric ignored her words of assurance, moving to grab hold of her hand. He noted the way the skin was grazed red and was starting to swell a little, enough to cause her to wince when he prodded at the sustained injury.

"You said you weren't hurt," he said in an accusatory tone, releasing her hand from his grasp.

"It's fine," she said, brushing it off. "I scraped my hand when I was about to fall. It's nothing serious."

The prince said nothing, choosing instead to scoff at her weak explanation as he repositioned his grip to her wrist before dragging her along behind him.

"You were gone for a long while," he said. "The others must be worried."

Hiding the smirk threatening to make an appearance, Clara said, "Were you worried?"

Adric glanced over his shoulder to scowl at her before he turned and said, "Shut up."

They walked the rest of the way in silence until they reached Jae's office, whereupon a clamour of voices and movements awaited their return. Amongst them, was Zephyr, whose abrupt manner of standing alerted her to his presence. He rushed over to her, and, much to everyone's surprise, proceeded to cradle her face almost delicately between his hands.

"Are you okay?" he asked, brows furrowed in worry.

Clara blinked, somewhat stunned into momentary silence as she stared at him, an awkward hum of hesitance on her lips. She glanced towards the gathered group behind the young demon, noting, with a tight knot in her stomach, the way everyone was observing them with dazed curiosity.

"I'm fine, but, uh . . ." she gave him an embarrassing smile. "Zephyr, you're kind of–"

Having remembered his place, Zephyr immediately dropped his hands, stepping away from her with a stern look on his face. He mumbled an apology, followed shortly after by words of confusion as though he hadn't a clue as to what had overcome him in a moment's notice.

Jae stepped forward then, giving him an odd look from the corner of his eyes before dismissing his peculiar behaviour.

Turning towards Clara, he asked, "Did everything go according to plan?"

"Yes, actually, I–"

"You found it?" Celdric interrupted with disbelief in his tone. "You found the weapon?"

Sensing the urgent tension in the air, Clara hastened to explain the occurrences of the evening, up until the point where she'd retrieved the weapon. It was then she paused, her earlier feelings of doubtfulness resurfacing. She turned away from the group, hiking the skirt of her dress a little way to recover the sheathed weapon stashed in the inner pocket.

Producing it in the palm of her hand, she glanced around at the blank faces of the demons surrounding her, similar looks of unamusement painting their expressions.

After a moment's pause, it was Adric who said, "That's it? That's the revered weapon?"

"May I?" Celdric asked, ignoring his brother as he gestured for the weapon.

"Go ahead."

Clara handed over the weapon, watching as a look of clear disappointment flashed fleetingly across his face. Adric observed his brother with mild disinterest before muttering, "All that trouble for something so feasible. Are you sure it's even capable of killing anything?"

"It . . . might," Celdric responded with a shrug. No doubt trying his best to keep his optimism despite the circumstances.

"Now really isn't the time to be hesitant," Rylan added. "I don't mean to break it to you, but we cannot attempt to kill Luther without being certain of the weapon's capability."

"I'm sure it can," Celdric said.

"That's not even a dagger," Zephyr said, causing the former to wince. "It's a stake, Celdric. A wooden stake."

"Let's not underestimate it. Clara said it was hidden in the wall of the king's office. That has to stand for something, right?"

"I guess," Adric said, entirely unconvinced yet unable to yield the creeping sadness in his brother's gaze.

Exhaling, Celdric said, "I know you're not persuaded by the weapon's capabilities especially–"

"–when it looks like it's about to disintegrate at any second," Zephyr muttered, earning a glare from Jae.

"Right," Celdric agreed halfheartedly. "And I know I'm asking for a lot, but please trust me on this. This is our only chance of freeing Clara from the treaty. And look, the weapon does exist, doesn't it? At least that wasn't a rumour."

Strained silence stretched on before Adric sighed, "Fine. But we better hope the second part of the hearsay is true and the weapon—no matter its viability—is capable of killing Luther."

The Elite shared a glance between them before they too came to a collective decision.

"If it's the only chance we've got, we'll take it."

A troubled expression crossed Zephyr's features just then, his gaze locking momentarily with Clara's from across the room. Though the others were as concerned about the unpredictability of their mission, none were more so than Zephyr himself. And for reasons quite unknown to them, he could not comprehend the incessant fear he felt upon the prospect of failing, and potentially losing Clara at the hands of General Luther.