Page 80 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
“This is Blake Marwood, my first mate.” Blake greeted Theron, ignoring Callan’s slimy grin. “And Samuel Rommier, my sailing master. Aryn Di Largo—head of archers upon my ship.” Ivar’s pit-dark eyes widened at the mention of Aryn.
“How long till we reach the fortress?” Theron spoke frankly.
“Five days,” Samuel replied. “We stop every night to recover from the heat, and we’ll need to be on watch for exiles and rebels in the desert.” He glanced at their weapons. “Which shouldn’t be a problem.”
Indeed, they were all thinking the same thing. Big, scary guards from the continent.
“Your islands are so tiny,” Callan sneered. “Five days is nothing.”
“We may have to stop more frequently with the added riders,” Kora chimed in, ignoring him.
They weren’t expecting threeoverly sizedmales to join them. Cadence would have to carry more supplies on her back to compensate. She glumly checked their faithful steeds, who all waited patiently under the shade of the waning palm trees.
When she turned back, Callan watched her with greedy intensity, his eyes unabashedly exploring her chest, down to her curved hips. His lips pulled back into another smarmy grin, and he winked at her.Ew. Her stomach churned, and she straightened her spine in response, holding her head highas Theron continued discussing the venture back to Stormkeep Fortress with Samuel.
“We were expecting a royal sentinel.” Blake glanced behind the males to the empty rowboat.
Kora also cast her gaze towards the ship in the distance, expecting a second rowboat to deploy. These males must be the bodyguards, scouting the land for safety before the sentinel joined them.
“Oh,” Theron smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. “Iamthe royal sentinel.”
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Callan’s incessant drivel to ride with Kora in the beginning of their journey had Blake snapping at him to ride with Samuel, who was more than happy to keep a leash on the male. Kora was just glad to have his wandering, grimy hands away from her, but it didn’t stop his leering empty stares.Fucking creep.
The archers perched on top of Fajra in bizarre silence, towards the rear of the convoy. Occasionally, she’d glance back to find Ivar tensely sitting back-to-back with Aryn, his longbow resting on his lap as his dark eyes scanned the barren, sandy horizon through a makeshift wrap protecting his face from the sand blasts.
They’d been riding like that for nearly three days, and had not spoken to each other once.
Theron rode with Blake, even going as far as offering to walk or jog beside Erebus to allow the stallion a reprieve from the weight. Intense, whispered conversations floated across the tundra from them, their heads close together as they spoke.They’d been practically joined at the hip since they set off from Whitestone Bay, and Kora only ever caught the odd word regarding the empire, the state, and the upcoming plans of the king-soon-to-be-emperor.
What it meant for the Azarian Islands. What it meant forhome.
She supposed sheshouldbe more interested about the future of her homeland. Yet, all Kora could focus on was the thrumming trinket nestled against her chest. The growing magic flowing in her veins. She’d been mulling her revised plan over and over in her mind, chewing on the potential risks as they trotted through the blistering heat.
Escorting Theron back to the fortress was the top priority. After that, she could flee to Shannara and dispose of the talisman, absolving her treacherous status to the empire. She was certain that, once the talisman was gone, her powers would diminish. She’d still be a mage, just anormalmage. After that . . . she wasn’t sure. Perhaps the witches would use her for their voodoo practices and eat her flesh.
Nightmare tales, spoken in hushed tones through the winding streets of the port town, bounced through her mind. Rumours the witches hunted trespassers, killing them in slow, excruciating ways, and harvesting the flesh and organs for rituals . . . and for consumption.
The sun set against the distant dunes, and the bounding sandy slopes curved across the simmering glow of the ball of light. Ember orange tones blended into the yellow grains of sand, creating a decadent summer hue of warmth. Kora pushed her goggles onto her head, basking in the final remnants of warm light before they were plunged into the cold evening darkness.
Blake barked an order for them to set up camp for the night, and Cadence’s tail flicked gently swatting Kora’s back.Time for rest.
By Samuel’s calculations, they had passed the Southern Oasis this morning, and should be well in shot of exiting the exiles’ territory tomorrow, before crossing the Bellmoor border. The tension in her shoulders eased knowing Theron and his cabal would be off their hands soon.
Luckily, the royal posse had brought water, and enough rations to feed a small army, and the itch crawling around Kora’s skin from the dry desert had eased more and more each day after she’d downed two waterskins.
As they set up camp that evening, they filled their bellies with fresh fruit, bread, and sea biscuits, as they’d done the past few nights—Cadence included. Kora even went as far as splashing cold water on her face, cleaning her pits and feet every night, and letting Cadence drink her fill to endure through the last leg of the journey home.
“Tell us Theron . . . what’s Azaria like?” Kora asked as they lounged around the dim campfire.
It wouldn’t be long until Blake doused it, paranoid of exiles and rebels locating them by the smoke. Theron and Ivar sat across the fire, the latter peering into the surrounding darkness blanketing the sky, the former sipping from his waterskin. Firelight danced in his deep eyes, and he let out a short, elated sigh, laced with acidity, at her question.
“Not too dissimilar from this.” Theron gestured to the sandy dunes surrounding them.
Samuel, sat to her right, raised a blonde brow as he peered at the dunes enveloping their camp. “Sounds . . . charming,” he spoke flatly.
A small chuckle escaped Theron. “Azaria is a harsh land. It is mostly hot, arid desert, with no chances of vegetation or cropsgrowing. Our city is nestled in the north, where we have the coolest climate. Well . . . as cool as itcanbe.”
