Still Open

Still Open
DASTAN

We’ve been riding for days. I stopped counting after the second sunrise.

All it did was remind me that I was so far from Elysia. That I could not will the horses to ride faster, to take me to her as if space and time did not exist. 

Everything around me blurred. All that I sensed were the pounding hooves, the sleepless nights and the constant ache in my ribs every time I breathed too deeply. 

My exhaustion doesn’t matter. My hunger doesn’t matter. My absolute hatred for the king that rides beside me doesn’t matter. 

Only Elysia.

Every mile we fail to find her is another mile Kaan carries her farther from me. At this point, I’m not sure how far behind we are. We’ve had to turn around a couple of times, finding it difficult to pinpoint the exact location of the portal. 

Kaan has kept that information close to his chest. 

Jakko is silent as our horses push through the exhaustion. Their breathing heavy, muscles waning. He looks no better than I do. Blood has dried beneath his nose from where I broke it days ago. The bruise across his jaw has turned a sick shade of purple.

The hatred between us hasn’t disappeared. In fact, I look forward to the day that I can finish the fight I started, end him. 

But it is his army that travels with us. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take when her life is on the line. 

The forest rushes past in streaks of green and shadow. Behind us, I hear the steady thunder of the men, with Zumir, James, and Em riding somewhere among them. Every so often I glance back to make sure they’re still there.

Every time, I wish it were Elysia instead.

“Dastan.” Jakko’s voice cuts through the wind.

I look toward him, slowing my horse to match his pace. 

He’s staring ahead, his posture suddenly rigid. “Do you see that?”

My eyes follow his gaze. A huge mountain stand before us. It’s as if it appeared out of nowhere. Did Kaan hide it behind magical wards? At this point, I wouldn’t put it past him. 

We get closer, James ordering the men to slow and keep quiet. There’s a cave marked into the mountain. 

My heart rate picks up in my chest. This is it, it has to be it. I can feel the magic in the ground, can hear the vibration of soft voices in my ear. 

“This is it,” I breathe.

I drive my heels into my horse’s flanks. The animal surges forward, and Jakko keeps pace beside me. Behind us, Zumir shouts an order, and the rest of the riders spread out, hiding in the trees. 

We leave the horses hidden beneath the trees, stepping onto the mossy ground. I draw my sword, nerves shooting through me at the dangerously quiet forest. 

Jakko unsheathes his own blade without a word, a frown on his face. For one brief moment, our eyes meet. Zumir steps between us, his own blade in his hands. 

“No one enters the cave unless we call,” I tell him.

He nods, turning to give the order to James. 

Jakko and I move through the mouth of the cave, one careful step at a time. He walks ahead of me and lifts a hand, motioning for us to slow. 

The farther we descend, the stronger the magic becomes. It hums beneath my skin, cold settling into my veins until frost gathers at the tips of my fingers.

The smell of iron and blood reaches us, my stomach knotting. We round the final bend and I immediately understand why the smell of blood is so prevalent. 

Bodies. Dozens of them.

They cover the cavern floor surrounding a glowing pool, crimson soaking into the ancient stone. Some lean against the walls as though they simply sat down to rest. Others lie side by side with hands folded across their chests.

Not one of them bears signs of a fight.

I step over the nearest corpse, crouching beside him. His sword still rests in his hand, the blade wet with blood. I frown, studying the wound in his chest. 

“He did this himself,” I whisper.

Zumir kneels beside another body. “So did this one.”

“What the hell happened here?” I ask. 

A wet cough echoes through the chamber. A man slumps against the base of the statue, one with glowing stones at its center. He has one hand pressed weakly over a wound in his throat.

Blood slips between his fingers with every shallow breath.

He’s still alive.

“Who did this?” I ask, crossing the chamber toward him. 

His eyes struggle to focus on me. “Our king,” he rasps. “Went home.”

The words make my pulse pound.

“Kaan crossed the portal?” Jakko demands.

The man gives the faintest nod. “Our queen took him.”

I snarl. “She is not your queen. She is mine.”

His gaze drifts toward the glowing water, a low gurgling chuckle leaving his lips. 

Jakko stands beside me as we both look down at him. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

His breathing catches painfully. “We could not follow.”

I sneer. 

Then, with the last strength left in him, he whispers, “Long live the Blood King and Queen.”

His hand falls away, and the cave becomes silent once more.

I turn to look at the pool, noting the way it bubbles, the way the stones in the statue’s hands glow a vibrant blue. 

Jakko is staring at it too, his brows in a frown. “This is the portal.”

I nod, the pool not much different from the one I remember coming through. I stare at it, unable to tear my eyes away. 

She’s gone, taken away from me. 

“Dastan.”

Em’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She stands near the far end of the chamber, right at the entrance, staring at the bodies littering the floor. She gives a tentative look to Jakko before her eyes zero in on the statue. 

Her eyes widen. “The stones are still glowing.”

Jakko and I stare at her. 

“And? What does that mean?” he asks. 

She looks at me, completely ignoring him. “The portal is still open.”