The Shadow Prince

Daphne looks at him, her eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”

 

 

“This is Dax. He’s my cousin, sort of,” I say. “But you’ve probably seen him around school. He’s a guidance counselor. Mr. Drool.”

 

“Hey,” he says. “That’s Mr. Drol. Though I do see my mistake in name choice now.”

 

“No,” Daphne says, shaking her head. “I haven’t seen you at school. Have we met elsewhere?”

 

He shrugs.

 

“He’s supposed to be my guide. But you’re not helping all that much at the moment,” I add pointedly to him.

 

“Guide? As in, you’ve been here before?”

 

“Yes,” Dax says.

 

“Six years ago?” Her voice has an accusatory edge to it, and I realize the direction she’s headed with this line of questioning. Tobin’s sister. That isn’t a road Dax and I want to go down at the moment. Not if I want a chance at salvaging this situation.

 

I clear my throat, stopping Dax from responding. “We were talking about the underworld.…”

 

“Oh yes,” Daphne says. “So are you a god or something?”

 

I almost laugh. “No.”

 

“You’re not Hades, then?”

 

“No.”

 

“Who is Hades, then?” Her eyes flick to Dax. He shakes his head. “Does he exist?”

 

“He did.”

 

“Did?”

 

“He’s dead.”

 

“Gods can die?”

 

“If you take away their totem, yes. But we’re getting off topic.”

 

“Who are you, then?”

 

“I am Lord Haden, son of King Ren—the current ruler of the underworld. Champion chosen to fulfill a sacred quest.”

 

Daphne steeples her fingers. “And let me guess. That quest is to bring me back to the underworld so I can be your queen or something?”

 

Her expression is cool and calm, and I wonder if she’s really as unfazed about all these reality-rocking revelations as she seems. For the first time since she walked away from me this evening, I wonder if I still have a chance of pulling this quest off. Of convincing her to come with me. Maybe this is the way the Fates wanted it to be. I am not to be a failure, after all.

 

Hope rises in my chest. I can practically taste the nectar I will be served upon my victorious return. I can see the expression on my father’s face when he will be obliged to offer me the seat at his right hand instead of Rowan. All I have to do is make Daphne understand.

 

“Yes, in a way. I was chosen by the Oracle. I’ve been sent here to convince you to return with me. You are my Boon.”

 

Daphne scowls. “Your Boon? Like your prize?” A shakiness creaks into her voice, and I realize too late that she’s not as cool with all of this as she’s been pretending to be. “That’s disgusting. That’s beyond wrong.”

 

“You’re not just a prize,” I say, lifting my hands. “You’re not just any Boon. You’re the Cypher.”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“I don’t exactly know. We have a theory.” I glance at Dax, but he doesn’t jump in to help me. “I’m supposed to take you to the Underrealm so you can help the Court of Heirs find the Key of Hades. It’s kind of vitally important.”

 

“Take me?” Her voice wars between sounding angry and afraid. Anger wins out. “You think you can cut my name into your arm and act like I belong to you? You think you can just take me?”

 

“No,” I say, trying to step closer to her. She moves away, putting the armchair between us. “I made that mistake once—when I tried to grab you in the grove—but I won’t make it again. Coming with me has to be your decision. I need your consent. You have to say yes.”

 

Daphne stands up straighter, pulling herself to her full height. I wonder if anyone has ever told her she looks like an Amazon warrior when she’s angry.

 

“Then, no,” she says.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You’re some fancy-pants prince. Go tell your king daddy or this Oracle or whoever that I say no. Tell them to choose somebody else.”

 

“I can’t, Daphne. I can’t just choose somebody else. Number one, because nobody would listen to me. I’m not exactly the Court’s favorite person. And secondly, because you were chosen by the Oracle. You were chosen by fate. You’re the Cypher. This whole thing is a whole lot bigger than you and me.” I can feel it in my soul how important this all is. “You can’t just say no. This is your destiny.”

 

“It has to be my choice but I can’t say no? That’s some pretty messed-up logic, you know.”

 

“This has nothing at all to do with logic. It’s about destiny. Our destiny.”

 

“Shove your destiny. I don’t believe in destiny or gods or oracles—even if they are real. What I believe in is myself. In my choices and my plans. I’ve got my plan for how my life is going to turn out, and it certainly doesn’t involve being dragged down to some mythological world of the dead. So my answer still stands. No.”

 

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