Now, I was the one who grabbed her wrist. “Where did you get this?” I yelled angrily.
Shannon’s eyes were wholly black. “I want to be her. It should be me that’s honored, not her! Me.”
“Take it off,” I commanded. “Remove that bracelet at once.”
Shannon shook her head, her hands grabbing fistfuls of her long hair as she collapsed to her knees. “It’s not fair. It should be me. I’m the daughter of a Lord. I worked hard to rise to the king’s notice, but he ignores me for her.”
“It’s the bracelet. It’s making you go mad. You must remove it.” I made a grab for her wrist, but in a wild fit, Shannon smacked my hand away, her nails like claws as they drew blood.
Turning toward Kash for help, the blade stood frozen, his gaze focused on the bracelet. When Shannon moved to attack me, Kash didn’t lift a hand even though he was supposed to guard me.
The darkness that covered his eyes, hiding his true identity from the world, was swirling with excitement.
“Could it be?” I whispered and moved toward the blade, for it was obvious it wasn’t Kash with me at the moment.
Shannon didn’t like that I was retreating, and she reached for me again. This time, I turned and attacked her. Grasping her bracelet on her wrist, I reached for the blade’s armor and brushed across the metal and gasped.
Eyes were staring back at me. Red eyes surrounded by fire and smoke, and I knew they were connected. They were from the same source. I had meant to let go. As soon as I felt their origins, the stamp of the same dark magic in the bracelet was similar to the magic in his armor. They were the same. I was paralyzed as I became the conduit between the two. Magic was leeching from the bracelet, searching, trying to cross me to get to the dragon blade. And I understood.
The cursed treasure wanted to be found. It wanted to be reunited. It sought each other out.
The Stiltskin hoard.
My fingers wouldn’t release their hold on the cursed armor and once again, I heard a deep dark laugh. “You’re mine, Rhea.”
My eyes fluttered as I could feel my heartbeat slowing, my lungs refusing to draw breath. A flash of wild magic came and knocked me over, and I swore I saw a purple banshee standing over me protectively.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I stood on the edge of a cliff next to a once majestic underground city that now lay in ruin. Great stone towers reduced to rubble littered the roads. Tall marble statues decimated, and all that remained were the pedestals. I was seeing Ter Dell, the dwarven city that was destroyed a hundred years ago.
Above me, a beautiful waterfall fell from the cavernous ceiling into giant water wheels that were straining with effort. I felt vibrations through the earth. I recognized that rhythm like my heartbeat. The water pumping through the wheels which powered the mines, and the mighty trip hammers as they crushed metal ore. It was the sound of the dwarven mine brought back to life.
But who was running it?
The answer lay not within the city, but outside it. For at the edge of the city was a narrow stone bridge over a deep abyss. There were no rails to guide my hand. Spires of boiling steam erupted on either side of the walkway. As I drew closer to the bridge, I could feel the heat on my skin. It burned and crackled.
My feet moved without my instruction, following the inaudible invitation that I knew would be my doom. I tried to pull away, to resist, but my feet worked against me.
I couldn’t keep going. It was too dangerous. I was lost in a vision, and if my mind couldn’t separate from this actual dream, I knew I could die. Like falling asleep and never waking up.
“Wake up!” I yelled mentally. My feet approached the edge of the walkway, my skin was blistering, and my eyes were crusting and drying out.
“Wake up, Rhea, or die!” I screamed again.
Three feet left and I would walk onto the platform. Using every bit of determination I had left, I looked to my right, at the waterway below, and I whispered the command, “Fall.” To escape dreams, it was easier for our brains to comprehend an action.
“You’re falling, Rhea!”
My body went limp, and I felt my mind relax as I slid sideways and tumbled as water rushed over me.
“No!” I heard the dark voice scream, and I knew I had escaped his clutches once again.
Ice cold water hit my face and I gasped, sitting up. My hair fell in wet tendrils down my cheeks. Lifting the wet strands, I saw I was sitting on a fur-covered chaise lounge and a woman in boots stood in front of me. I was inside one of the tents, a brazier burning in the middle of the room producing waves of heat. Canvas covered the ground, and on top of it were many elaborate Sion rugs overlapping each other. Rugs that were now sopping wet.
“That should do it,” Velora grunted, dropping a bucket onto the floor.
I pushed my hair out of my eyes and looked up into her smug face.
“I saved you.” She held out two fingers. “Twice. Once from the shadow thing, and the second from burning.”
“What?” I asked, confused as I tried to understand her stilted speech and process what had happened.
The empty bucket on the floor was the culprit for my soaking wet dress and the puddle I was now sitting in.
“The shadow?” I asked.
Velora shook her head. “When you touched the girl and the black knight.” She held her hands apart. “A dark shadow swallowed you.” Her hands came together and cupped into a circle. “I used my magic to separate you.” She raised her chin and smiled at me. “The second time, when you were sleeping, your skin was burning hot to the touch. So I cooled you off.” She pointed to the empty bucket.
I couldn’t help but laugh, but then my laughter broke off into uncontrollable shivers.
Velora took a dry blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders in a motherly manner. Her lips pursed together, and she ran her hands up the sides of my shoulder, patting them, but it wasn’t gentle. It felt like I was getting attacked.
“Marco does this for me when I’m cold,” she said, and all of a sudden, it made sense. Velora was doing her best to help me feel better. And since mermaids were genuinely selfish creatures by nature, it was interesting to see her adjust to human emotions.
“Have you seen him yet?” I asked.
“No, but he’ll come. You’ll see,” she said confidently.
The tent flap opened, and the dragon blade entered, his hand on his knife.
Velora jumped in front of me, her hands splayed into claws, and she hissed, ready to attack the blade that injured Marco and brought her here.
The dragon blade reached for his knife and Velora’s fingernails grew longer. As the tent flap closed, I saw that night had fallen and with how much the dragon blade was trembling, his shift was nearby.
“It’s okay, Velora,” I cautioned her. Standing up, I moved to her side. “Watch.”
The dragon took a step forward, and he held the blade above his head and unsheathed the knife. A powerful burst of magic shot outward like a smoke bomb, and I could see the armor evaporate from Kash’s skin, wafting into the air before it condensed, and the mist sought shelter inside the blade just as he closed it, cutting off the magic. Kash stood before us, his face covered in sweat, his chest heaving, and he wobbled before falling to his knees. Kash’s dark hair fell forward, and his arms trembled to hold him up from sliding to the floor.