Onyx Storm (The Empyrean Book 3)

It was whispered in academic circles that Cordyn had supplied troops and weaponry for the second Krovlan uprising, but the research has led me across the Arctile Ocean to Deverelli, known to our kingdom as the treacherous isle of merchants, who to my surprise may not have been the source of the arms, but perhaps the broker.

—Subjugated: The Second Uprising of the Krovlan People by Lieutenant Colonel Asher Sorrengail

Holy shit it’s hot here, and by my estimates it must only be around nine o’clock in the morning as we approach an endless line of white beaches preceded by splotches of alternating turquoise and aqua waters.

Soft green hills rise directly behind the beach, dotted with stone structures. The perplexing color reminds me of the last batch of wool when the weaver’s dye has lost its potency: it’s muted, almost faded, and its lack of color is made obvious by the contrast of the water. The closer we fly, the farther forward I lean in my seat, wholly, completely fascinated. The hills aren’t dotted at all.

“That’s the city, isn’t it? Hidden in the trees?” My fingers curl in excitement around the pommels of the saddle. The area is a thriving port, with four central piers and several smaller ones.

“It appears to be.” Before we get close enough to make out the people, Tairn banks left, taking us east.

“Let me out of this thing before anyone sees,” Andarna demands.

“Not until we’re out of range of those cross-bolts.” Tairn looks pointedly toward a long stone wall a quarter of the way up the first hill, armed with a dozen of the largest cross-bolts I’ve ever seen, all loaded with shining, metallic tips.

Dragon killers.

For once, Andarna doesn’t argue.

“Given this is an isle dedicated to peace, they’re certainly prepared for war.” My stomach tenses. It’s been centuries since any Navarrian has stepped foot on this isle, and if we’ve overestimated the viscount’s sway with the king, there’s every chance those cross-bolts will head in our direction.

We fly between the beach and a barrier island, where the water is a breathtaking shade of blue I’ve never seen, and I can’t help but stare, trying to commit it to memory as we slowly descend to a hundred, then fifty feet above the ground. Reading about this place has in no way truly prepared me to see it.

Despite the exhaustion, I don’t want to so much as blink for fear of missing a single thing. Although after flying all night, I’m more than prepared to modify this saddle even more for sleeping when we get back to Basgiath.

“According to the map you were given, the estate ahead belongs to Tecarus,” Tairn says as we pass by a grouping of elegant manors on the mainland, each with its own dock and a ship that announces its owner’s status and wealth. Tairn shifts his shoulders, and the click of the harness sounds a second before Andarna appears off his right wing, hers beating double-time to keep up.

A group of creatures darts beneath us in the water, jumping into the air in a series of graceful leaps that almost make up for the flurry of people yelling and running back into their homes as we fly over.

“I wonder what they taste—” Andarna starts.

“No.” My protest catches me by surprise. “They’re dolphinum, and they’re just too pretty to be your snack.” Even prettier than the drawings I’ve seen.

“You’re going soft.” Andarna snorts.

We touch down in the sand in front of a sprawling two-story manor that reminds me of a smaller version of Tecarus’s palace in Cordyn. Its tall white pillars leave a portion of the structure open to the ocean breeze, but the thick stone walls that surround the rest tell me it’s weathered storms here, too. Palm trees—tall, wispy things with broad leaves of the same muted, pale green adorning their tops—line a path to the house, and I check to make sure that’s indeed the standard of Cordyn flying on a docked ship before I dismount, taking the extra pack we’ve kept with Tairn until now.

The sand is so fine I can’t help but drop down and run my fingers through it with a smile. It’s nothing like the rocky texture along the river at Basgiath or the coarse, grainy beach of Cordyn. This makes me want to strip my boots off and walk barefoot.

Andarna lifts her claw and shakes it beside me, sending grains of sand flying in a cloud as the others land in a flurry of activity around us. “It’s going to get between my scales.”

“And now you understand why I didn’t let you eat that tortoise,” Tairn mutters, his head perpetually swiveling, taking in our surroundings. “We’ll need to hunt before we fly back. And we’re no longer alone.”

A middle-aged man stands in the doorway of Tecarus’s manor, his short-sleeved, belted white tunic and matching pants contrasting his brown skin as his arms tremble, his mouth hanging open while he stares at Tairn and Andarna.

“I’ll figure out where to do that without causing a war.” I stand up as Ridoc stomps forward, then startle when Aotrom roars.

The Deverelli man screams and runs back into the house.

“Great first impression,” I mutter, brushing the sand off my palm.

Andarna snorts, then prances off toward the water, her wings tucked in tight.

“Do not go any deeper than your claws!” Tairn lectures, his tail nearly taking out a tree when he pivots to watch her go. “I swear, if you get in over your head, I’ll let you drown.”

Aotrom roars again, getting everyone’s attention, including Tairn’s.

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” Ridoc turns toward Aotrom.

The Brown Swordtail opens his mouth and roars louder, blowing back Ridoc’s dark-brown hair and covering my friend in a layer of goopy saliva.

Gross.

Ridoc slowly lifts his hands and scrapes the slime off his face. “Yelling at me doesn’t help. It’s like shouting in a language I don’t speak.”

A vise of foreboding clamps down on my chest, and my gaze swings toward Tairn, then past him to where Sgaeyl and Teine survey our surroundings restlessly. Mira walks our way, rubbing the back of her neck, but Xaden stands at the edge of the water, facing away from the estate.

“I think it’s just us,” I say to Tairn, spinning slowly to take it all in.

“Just us how?” he asks.

Kira rakes her claws through the sand, and Cat is on her knees next to her, holding her face in her hands while Drake kneels at her side. Sova, his gryphon, shakes his silver head back and forth like he’s trying to clear it. Cath guards the west point of the property, his tail flicking in agitation, and Dain looks down as he walks our way.

Something’s off with everyone.

“I think we’re the only ones who can speak to one another.” My feet sink into the sand as I trudge my way over to Mira, and I rip open the buttons of my jacket as the heat starts to cook me from inside my leathers. “Can you talk to Teine?”

She shakes her head. “We lost the connection as soon as we left the Continent.”

“I…” I swallow hard, then lower my voice. “I can still speak to Tairn and Andarna.”

She blinks, then looks over the group quickly. “From the state of everyone else, I’d say you’re alone in that department.” Her brow furrows. “Do you think it’s because you’re bonded to two? Or is it Andarna?”

I shake my head, my focus straying to Xaden’s back. “I don’t know.”

“Either way, I’m glad you still have the connection.” She gently squeezes my shoulders. “Being cut off from magic is…”

“Disorienting.” I grimace.

“Yes.” She nods. “But losing the bond?” Her face puckers for a second before she masks the emotion. “Well, I guess you’d know, since they shoved that serum down your throat.”

“Not only is everyone going to be on edge, it’ll make coordinating anything a bitch, considering they’re cut off from each other,” I say, glancing up at Tairn, who’s backed away to take a position that puts him equally between Sgaeyl, Andarna, and me.

“Guess we’ll have ample opportunity to try these out.” Mira swings her pack from her shoulder, then retrieves several leather pouches before picking the one marked with a circular protection rune I don’t recognize and replacing the rest. “Trissa sent these as a test to see if runes will work out here.” She unbuttons the pouch and hands me a palm-size slice of what appears to be lilac-colored quartz, tempered with the same rune that labels the leather. “That one is supposed to shield you from sunlight. Carry it while we’re here for me, would you?” She lifts her brows. “Quietly, of course.”

I nod and slip it into my pocket. Having some—or any—form of power out here would put us on a more familiar footing, but it opens the door to a kind of trade I’m not sure any of us wants to contemplate.

“You made it!” Tecarus shouts with glee from the doorway, his arms outstretched in ostentatious welcome as he walks toward us in a fuchsia tunic embroidered in heavy gold. “Prince Halden hasn’t awakened yet, but I was able to secure an emergency meeting with a chancellor to the king upon our arrival last night, and you’ll be thrilled to know that your creatures may hunt in the valleys three leagues south of here where there is an abundance of wild game. Humans are not to be on the menu.”

“Understood,” I tell him and immediately turn toward Tairn. “I’d rather you go now so you’re at full strength than chance something going wrong—”

“Agreed.” He arches his neck and lets out a short bark of a sound that makes me lift my brows but does the trick of getting everyone’s attention. “Do not die while I am gone.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He bends a little deeper than usual given the sand, then launches skyward, his wings creating a gust of wind that weaponizes the sand around us. I throw my forearm up to protect my face and leave it there for the next few seconds as the others follow Tairn’s lead.

When I open my eyes, it’s just us humans on the beach: riders dressed in black, fliers in brown leathers, gawking Deverelli on either side of what appears to be Tecarus’s property line, and one rather pompous viscount.

“The prince has an audience with His Majesty this afternoon, so I’m assuming you’d all like to rest before you…” Tecarus cocks his head to the side. “I suppose do nothing, since King Courtlyn will only speak to aristocracy.” He crinkles his nose at Ridoc. “You need a bath.”

“We need horses.” Ridoc scoops a fingerful of slime out of his ear and shakes it off his finger.

“I’m sorry?” Tecarus steps out of the slime’s path.

“Violet wants to visit the market. Something about buying books,” Dain answers as he catches up, taking a spot to Ridoc’s right.

Tecarus nods. “Of course. You’ll keep a low profile?”

“As low as possible,” I agree.

He tells us where to find our assigned rooms, and after we thank him, I head toward the water. My boots sink in the sand with every step until I reach the zone where it firms just above the waterline.

Xaden stands with his feet apart, swords strapped to his back, and arms crossed, but when my shoulder brushes his elbow, I look up to find his face completely, totally relaxed.

I close my eyes tight, then reopen them just to be sure I’m not imagining things. Nope, he’s really staring out at the water like we’re in the valley above Riorson House and not in enemy territory, completely cut off from magic. “Hey,” I say gently.

“Hey.” He tilts his head down toward mine and gives me a soft—but real—smile.

I almost ask him how he is, since he can’t talk to Sgaeyl and our own bond is blocked, but it seems like a shitty thing to do after that smile. “Everyone is heading up to take naps before we ride out to find the merchant. Halden is set to meet the king at three, so we can get a good four hours of sleep in if you want.”

“I’m going to stay out here for a little bit. You go.” He turns toward me and cups the back of my neck. “You need the rest and definitely need to get out of the sun for a bit. Your nose is turning pink.”

“Tecarus gave us the same room…”

“Because he values his life.” He tucks the loose strands of my braid behind my ears. “Get some sleep. You need it. I’ll be up in a bit.”

“Do you want me to sit out here with you?”

His grin deepens. “When you clearly need to rest? No, love, though I appreciate the offer. It’s hard to explain, but I’m just going to take a little time to myself to soak in this view.” He grabs my hand and brings it to his chest, where his heart pounds in a steady rhythm that feels slightly more relaxed than it was in Cordyn—than it has been in weeks, really. “Can you feel it?”

“It’s slower,” I whisper.

“There’s no magic here.” He tugs me against him. “No power. No lure. No taunting reminder that I can save everyone if I just reach for it and take what’s offered. It’s only…peace.”

For the first time since fetching the luminary, I seriously debate Tecarus’s offer.