Dance of a Burning Sea (Mousai, #2)

“I think, under the circumstances, those laws can be ignored this night.”

A thick silence hung over the chamber. Dhruva tipped her head up to meet Alōs’s scrutinizing gaze before she dropped into a bow. “As you wish.”

“You are much the same, Dhruva,” said Alōs, his smile sharp.

“And you are much different. Though not in a way that’s becoming.”

“You never could find compliment in me.”

“How could I from a boy who would commit such sin?”

“You know very well why I—”

“Enough,” Ariōn interrupted the two, rubbing at his temples. “Enough. I do not have long with my brother, so I ask you to leave us in peace for a few more grain falls. Then we can go back to abiding by all the laws the lost gods laid upon us.”

“I would feel I was failing my duty to protect if I were to leave you alone with an outlaw.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, Surb Dhruva, but you would be failing your duty by disobeying my command.”

Dhruva stiffened. “Very well, my king.” She bowed lower this time, and Niya didn’t miss the mockery in the flourish. “Surb Ixō, will you walk with me?”

Ixō glanced at Ariōn in question.

“Go; I will call for you again soon.”

Ixō seemed pained to leave the young king but bowed in kind and followed Surb Dhruva out.

A new silence filled the room as Alōs and Ariōn were left alone.

“Tell me truthfully,” said Alōs after a moment. “How much longer do the High Surbs think Esrom has?”

“The Room of Wells is nearly dry.” Ariōn turned to face the bed, his attention dropping to what lay within. “The High Surbs believe we have a year at most.”

Alōs’s brows snapped together. “Why did you not send word?”

“Does your sandglass not tell you of the time left?” Ariōn challenged. “Besides, I know you have been searching out the pieces of the Prism Stone as fast as you can. Doing whatever you must to find them. Would you have been able to sail the seas quicker knowing this?”

“I might have.”

“Even you, brother, cannot slow how fast the grains fall.”

“You have no idea the things I am capable of.”

“Don’t I?” Ariōn rubbed the discolored skin on his hands, where brown met silver.

Alōs’s jaw tensed. He was seemingly filled with too much of everything to respond.

“Let us not fight anymore,” said Ariōn, a tiredness to his words. “You will find what we seek in time. I have faith. Then I will pardon your sins.”

Alōs shook his head. “After everything, you still remain so optimistic.”

“Someone must counter all your sourness.” His brother gave him a small smile. “After my coronation, the law is mine to change, and as we discussed—”

“Oy! What are you doing back here?”

A gruff voice rang out behind Niya, and she whipped around. Two guards stood in the hidden doorway at her back. Sticks! She had been so wrapped up in what was going on in the room beyond that she hadn’t been paying attention to the energy behind her.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The guards poked her with their pointed staffs, forcing her to walk forward, through the curtains and into the bedchamber.

As Niya neared, she was able to see what she previously could not. Ariōn was blind, his eyes covered in a whitish film. And it was not paint covering the top of his face and hands but skin, metallic in color. Sickly veins ran across the silver expanse, stopping where his brown skin started. She had heard of such a thing from Achak but had never seen it for herself. A marking of death paused.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” one of the soldiers said at her back. “A servant reported seeing someone unfamiliar slip into your private entrance. We found her hiding behind the drapes.”

“Who are you?” The young prince frowned. “I do not recognize your energy.”

“She appears to be a spy.” Alōs’s dark voice curled forward.

Niya’s gaze swung to his, every part of her vibrating with the urge to flee, to run, to escape. Instead she kept herself from cowering under the cool fire now blazing from Alōs’s turquoise eyes. He looked down at her as if he wanted to take the blade from his hip and slice her clean through. Niya wondered what was stopping him.

“A spy?” Ariōn looked genuinely stunned as the guards grabbed her arms, keeping Niya from her own knives at her hips.

“No, Your Majesty,” said Niya, though she kept her attention on Alōs. “I am no spy. I came here with your brother.”

A muscle along Alōs’s jaw twitched, and she gave him a hint of a smile, one that said, Yes, I heard everything.

Now, what to do with it?

Leverage. The word sang triumphant in her mind, despite her current predicament.

“You know this creature?” Ariōn turned to Alōs.

“I’ve never seen her a day in my life,” he replied coolly.

“Liar!” Niya spat. “I am one of his pirates, Your Majesty.”

Ariōn raised a single brow at Niya. “Are you? How curious, for I thought Alōs forbade any of his crew to step onto our sacred lands.”

“I do.” Alōs’s voice was a thick rumble of foreboding.

“As I thought.” Ariōn nodded. “Take her from here discreetly, Borōm,” he instructed one of the guards. “And I trust neither of you will discuss anything, or anyone, you may have seen in this room, yes?”

The unspoken words were there. You have not seen my brother this night.

“Of course, Your Grace,” answered the guards.

“Very good. I do not want anyone to think Esrom is under more turmoil, after what we have already suffered these past few days.”

The guards tugged at Niya, and there was a grain fall when she hung on her indecision about whether to peacefully go with them or to fight and flee.

But then Alōs’s commanding voice brought her back to where she was surrounded. “And spy, I would not try any tricks,” he said, his tone a cold ice bath of warning. He approached slowly, a storm overtaking the room. “I know you wish to try many,” he continued. “Your kind always do. But I shall remind you that Esrom is not large and rests at the bottom of the sea. Wherever you might look to hide, you will not remain undiscovered for long.”

Though the gesture was subtle, Niya did not miss how Alōs rubbed the marking on his wrist. Their binding bet his forever connection to her.

She ground her teeth together, her magic a hot coil of energy begging to be set free.

Free.

But Alōs was right.

While Niya could have done many things in that moment, none would erase the memory of her discovery. None would sever her bond to this man who could track her movements if he so desired. And none would save her from his wrath once they were back on his ship.

In resignation, Niya relaxed her stance, her signal that she understood and would behave.

For now.

Still, Alōs’s fury did not lessen; instead he leaned closer, his deep voice brushing hot along her ear. “You have overestimated my need for you by coming here, fire dancer. And for that there will be consequences.”

Her eyes gripped his as he stepped back, disgust plain in his features. But Niya did not cower. She tipped her chin up as she was dragged away and smiled.

For though she might have been caught, so had Alōs.

And she let him know as her gaze swung to the two figures in the bed between him and his brother.

A couple. Two crowns.

Alōs’s parents.

Dead.

Alōs wasn’t merely a prince.

Alōs was meant to be a king.

Here lay the leverage Niya was searching for.

And it was in the form of a Prism Stone.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Niya was growing accustomed to the insides of prison cells. At least, she assumed this was a prison, given the bars. The rest was all rather . . . comfortable.

Standing in the center of the room, Niya took in a spacious cot with a thick duvet, a washing basin with a pitcher of water, and a chair tucked into a corner. There was even a finely woven rug beneath her feet.

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