Chapter 25

The door to the dwelling on the edge of the woods read Aziza.

"Guess this is the place," I said to Sylos.

I opened it and stepped inside, finding some irony in the fact the keeper of the keys left his own door unlocked. This tall, scaly-skinned being was my only entry into the Ciúin lands. It would take weeks, if not longer, for another guide to be found and brought here. I did not have that kind of time to spare. By then Lorelei and Adrius would be on to the next destination, or worse—captured by those hunting them.

Aziza stood in the entry, as though expecting our arrival. He backed away from me, though his arms were crossed in defiance. "I know why you've come, but you must understand I cannot give the key to anyone. Not for any reason whatsoever."

I stepped toward him, and his hand shot up.

"And I should warn you right away, I've been placed under a protective spell. Nothing you can do will harm me," he said.

I'd felt the shimmer of the magic protecting him. It was true—even if I were willing to beat it out of him, my efforts would be in vain. "Aziza, I understand your position. I do. But many lives are on the line and by you handing over that key, you will be instrumental in saving those lives," I explained. Reasoning and logic: strategy number one. "I am prepared to offer you a hefty sum for your troubles. Enough for you to buy a new home triple this size." Bribery: strategy number two.

"One with a lock on the front door," Sylos muttered.

Aziza shook his head. "Sorry. No key. Rules are rules, and I was entrusted to uphold them."

I exhaled an impatient sigh and circled around him slowly. Strategy number three. "Do you know who I am?" I asked, brows raised.

He nodded.

"Good. Then you know I will not spare your life if you refuse me."

He was still resisting, weighing whether my wrath would be less lenient than his master's. "Torture me if you must, but I'll not give it to you."

I circled him once more, feeling my frustration rise and then fall. "You see, I have a small dilemma. I want very much to kill you. I do. But I've made myself a promise on behalf of one I care for. No more killing. Unless—" I lifted my gaze, "—there is no other option." I took hold of his collar and peered into his face. "I am asking you this but once. Give me another option."

Beads of perspiration formed on his brow, but he held firm. "You won't kill me because the key's location dies with me. And you cannot hurt me, the protective magic has seen to that." His round face paled. "Shana told me you'd come looking fer me. Said you were from the Faerie realm. I haven't got any quarrel with the Fey. Furthermore," he added, jutting his chin, "it seems unseemly for even a dark Prince to threaten the life of a commoner without cause."

I released him, and Sylos stepped into my place. Only instead of using his arms as a restraint, he used the tip of his sword, pressing it deep enough into the fabric of Aziza’s collar to pin him to the wall.

"I would never do such a thing to a commoner," I said, raising both hands. "Although…" I leaned in. "I can assure you, I have very good cause indeed."

He was a tough one, and I admired his tenacity, but time was of the essence. "I would rather not see any harm come to you, and I'm certain you would want the same. I have only one question for you. How you answer that question will determine whether or not we both get what we want."

"Trust me, mate—" Sylos winked, "—he always gets what he wants. Throw him to the wolves, and he'll come back leading the pack."

Aziza merely glared at us, defiance lighting his pale orange eyes.

Threats and fear tactics were not working. At least, not this way. I motioned for Sylos to let him go and give us the room. He reluctantly went outside while I gestured for the rather tenacious key-keeper to sit.

He straightened his shirt indignantly before dropping into the nearest chair.

Everyone was afraid of something…it was just a matter of discovering what that was. I reached inside his thoughts, feeling for that emotion I recognized so readily. His fears were lined up like glass bottles, targets on a dusty shelf, just waiting for someone to knock them down.

Well…smash.

I closed my eyes for only a moment. Swarms of ravens with wings blacker than midnight that spanned the length of his body swooped in, darting, circling, and diving at his head. He crouched to the ground, shuddering in fright as they tore at his hair, his clothing.

"No. Stop. Please!" he cried out, covering his face with his hands.

Not much longer. He would give in soon. Fear was powerful and using it was as lethal a weapon as any blade. One raven after another dove at him; their needle-sharp beaks pecked at the skin on the back of his hands, peeling away small strips of flesh. He cried out, screaming for them to stop, clutching one hand to his chest as blood dripped down his arm. "I will give it to you, please, please…make it stop!" His body was balled up, huddling on the ground.

I waved my hand and the ravens receded into the night from whence they came…from nothing back into nothingness.

His head lifted, and he tentatively searched for any trace of them. I caught his eye and offered a slight smile. With shaky legs, he stood. His eye darted to the back of his hands. Healed. Illusions were as powerful as the real thing.

The look of horror and bewilderment might have been entertaining under different circumstances. Right now I just needed him to give me the key to the Ciúin gates. In truth, I gleaned no pleasure from any of this. Another anomaly in my habits that Sylos would attribute to my feelings for Lorelei and the effect she had on me.

"Are you ready to give me what I need?" I asked, still amicable.

He nodded quickly and before long, every last detail had spilled from his parched lips, and the key to the Ciúin ruins lay in my hands.

****

We returned to the party to gather our belongings. "We need to head out. It’s a few days’ travel to reach the Ciúin."

Sylos bit down into a hank of charred meat, a pheasant leg in one hand, a goblet of wine in the other. "Can't you see to it on your own?" he said around his mouthful. "Seriously, mate, they'll listen to you. Your reputation precedes you. You know what they call you, don't you? Zanthiel, the Demon Prince of Chaos."

"Hmm. I like it, has a certain ring to it," I said.

A Storm Hag wandered past, towing a Swamp Girl behind her, with long, blonde hair curled into tight spirals down her back and wide, blue eyes fringed with glittering lashes.

Sylos grinned at the girl and held up his goblet.

She smiled shyly in return.

"There's no time for this," I said. "And I would not look for company from that particular Swamp Girl," I added, leaning impatiently against the tree.

"Nonsense," he mumbled, still maintaining eye contact with her. "You know, mate, this realm has more to offer than your precious fiancé." He elbowed me, handed me his goblet, and proceeded to make a fool of himself in the name of desire once again.

I sighed. It would be a very long evening indeed. The Sylph was passing around slices of pie. I stared at the pieces as they started to move around the plate on their own. A thorned tail pierced the crust.

"Scorpions?" I nodded.

She grinned, offering me a piece.

"No, thanks. I'll pass."

It didn't take long for Sylos to see I'd been right about the girl. A loud shriek caught my attention…I was not sure if it came from him or her. The Swamp Girl's body morphed into a sea serpent, her long scaly neck towered above the rooftops. She hissed and snapped her tail, which slammed into Sylos and sent him soaring across the ground. He landed with a thud, then sheepishly handed her back her jewels.

"Sorry about that. No hard feelings though." He backed away, his hand raised. "Love the scales by the way. You wear them well."

She hissed once, then slithered into the forest toward the swamps.

I rolled my eyes as he sauntered over. "Something you said?"

"Well, that was…interesting."

"Is that the word now for escaping a girl's grasp within inches of your life? Interesting?"

"I cannot think of another."

"I can," I said gruffly. "I'm leaving. Are you coming?"

"Yes, yes. Anyway, the important part is we all learned a valuable lesson. Women are not always what they appear to be." He pointed at me. Then his gaze darted to the left. "Hey, is that pie?"

Tesla and I exchanged a look as I handed it to him. Let him figure out that there were live scorpions beneath the layer of cream. Another valuable lesson—food wasn't always what it appeared to be either.

I dipped my head in gratitude to our hostess and headed for the forest.

Three bites in, Sylos was chasing after me, still retying his shirt, jamming a foot into his boot, and nursing a stung finger at the same time. When he caught up, I didn't look at him, even though he cast me a devil’s glare. "Could have warned me about the scorpions, mate."

"Why?" I shrugged. "I tried to warn you about the girl, look how much good that did. If you're finished goofing off, we have a new lead, and the key to the Ciúin gates."

An arrow whipped past my head, narrowly missing my ear.

"What the—?" Sylos ducked and went for his bow, loading it with an arrow tipped in toxin. It was meant to disarm our attackers, not kill them, leaving them frozen with only the ability of speech. But right now, we did not need a conversation. We needed to defend ourselves. I lifted my hand and sent a rapid fire of ice daggers into the darkness. They ripped through the trees, shredding tree trunks as they passed. There was an echo of cries, and the sound of bodies hitting the ground. Sylos launched another arrow in their direction. More screams.

I could hear their breathing, yet couldn't tell which creatures were hunting us. I snapped the tip off the arrow that landed next to me. Sniffing it, I tried to recall where I'd smelled that scent before. I came up empty. It did not belong to any foe I knew. Certainly not one of the kingdoms. The Redcaps and other bounty hunters would use cruder, rudimentary weapons.

Another arrow whizzed toward me. I deflected it with my sword. "Enough," I shouted into the night. "Show yourselves, and let us finish this once and for all."

For a moment the onslaught stopped. Nothing moved. Then there was a blur of movement, and a fiery arrow streaked toward us. We dove out of its path. It landed embedded in the base of a tree. The entire thing went up in flames almost instantly, burning to the ground in seconds. Nothing but red, hot ash and smoke, yet through the haze something caught my eye.

Sylos saw it too, for he reached into the smoldering pit to retrieve a golden envelope. A black wax skull sealed it shut. Not many had such excess wealth to afford gilded paper goods. Yet the way it gleamed in the moonlight and glowing embers of the burnt tree, I could tell this was indeed made of gold. His eyes lifted to mine, then darted toward our attackers. I could no longer smell them or hear them. They were gone. It was over. For now.

"What is it?" I asked, snapping his focus back to me and the gleaming envelope in his hand.

"It appears to be a letter," he said his eyes lifting slowly, "and it is addressed to you."