Page 422 of Kingdoms of Night

Viridi shut his eyes and let his dryad senses fall into the roots.

The scent of burning wood, fear-laced sweat, and rum filled his nose. The roots lifted up as he ordered them to search for the boy’s scent.

And there it was. He smelled youth, new flesh and energy, as well as the scent of the boy’s kingdom—ancient magic specific to that place far away, and a blend of herbs with which Viridi wasn’t familiar.

Though the roots could scent, they could not help Viridi see. When he sensed the roots were secured around the boy’s torso, he urged them to cradle him. Then Viridi tugged on the magic and the roots rushed back toward the beach with Nico safely in tow, caged gently in lengths of oaken tendrils and shrouded by the night.

A sharp pain flashed up through the earth and into Viridi’s body. He thrashed and lost contact with the trees’ power.

Nico lay on the beach at the feet of three men. The moon and stars blinked across their axes.

They’d cut the roots and severed the magical bond. They had Nico in hand.

CHAPTERTHIRTY

ISA

Heart shattering—Viridi had been so close to getting Nico to safety—Isa flew overhead and blew fire into the air. She couldn’t strike. Nico was too close. She would burn him too.

A woman came running out of the bowels of the ship shouting.

It was Dame. She wasn’t dead.

Yet.

Dame, and Ursane the horrible thing, were struggling with something in their arms—a crossbow and a quiver of bolts. Chills raked Isa as she dodged two arrows from Seigneur’s crew. Tendrils of amethyst and black magic soared from the direction of Werian’s ship—Rhianne’s spells. They were doing their best to help out.

Another volley of arrows. Isa tilted her wings and used her arms to move in a rising air current, but she was new to this and definitely no expert.

Well, she had to try something.

She swooped down toward Nico, desperate to snag him and somehow fly him out of the reach of the Brunes and their men.

Pain jolted through her. A tear in her wing.

She plummeted to the ground and hit hard, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush.

A crossbow bolt jutted from the moonlit sand a foot from her and she forced herself to her knees. Sweat poured from her face as the agony ricocheted through her body. Wings might be amazing in some ways, but they were obviously incredibly sensitive.

A groan burst from her lips as she managed to stand on shaking legs, sand in her mouth and eyes.

“Let him go!” she roared at the men. She lifted her head and breathed fire into the sky, her anger and frustration as painful as the injury to her wing.

Dame, Ursane, and Seigneur walked over the rocks and sand toward the men who held Nico.

Dame smiled, the moonlight reflecting off her teeth as she handed the crossbow to Seigneur. Ursane crossed her arms and glared. Dame grabbed Nico by the neck and forced him to kneel. He looked at Isa. Tears silvered the edges of his eyes. His fingers dug into Dame’s arm and Isa wished to press a soft, healing kiss onto every one of his knobby knuckles.

She was going to lose him.

A bottomless darkness opened inside her and she gasped, unable to take a breath. They were going to cut his throat and she was going to be stuck here with talons and fire and wings that could do nothing.

A sob choked her.

Wait. She had options. She had power here. “If you kill him,” she said, pushing back at the panic and the pain in her wing, “I will immediately end you all. I don’t care if you take me down along the way. You are finished if you don’t give him to me, healthy and whole.”

Seigneur loaded the crossbow. “Let’s see you try.” He nodded at Dame.

A crack sounded behind Isa.

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