Scorched by Darkness

  “See?” Torque growled, straightening as Levet pushed himself to his feet. “Aggravating pest.”

  Rya concentrated on the tiny gargoyle, still worried that he’d hurt himself. “Are you okay?”

  “Non.” He absently rubbed one of his stunted horns. “My head is throbbing.”

  Rya grimaced. “I’m sorry, Levet. I should never have asked you to use your gifts in this place.”

  “It is not your fault, ma belle,” the gargoyle assured her. “Your mother is very…formidable.”

  Rya pressed a hand to her chest as her heart missed a painful beat. “You spoke to her?”

  Levet’s wings gave a violent flutter. “Actually, she spoke to me.”

  Rya blinked back sudden tears of relief. Until that precise moment she didn’t realize just how worried she’d been. “She’s alive.”

  “Very much so,” Levet muttered.

  Rya reached out to grab his arm. “Could you tell if she was nearby?”

  “Non, I am sorry. I sensed that she’s trapped in the same icy prison as we are, but it is impossible to know her precise location.”

  Rya slowly rose to her feet, vaguely aware of the heat that scalded down the length of her back as Torque moved to stand directly behind her. Her attention never wavered from the tiny gargoyle. “Did she speak to you?”

  “Oui.” Levet shivered at the memory. “She was frighteningly insistent.”

  Rya smiled with wry amusement, growingly confident that he had indeed contacted her mother.

  She was a female who let people know exactly what was on her mind. In very vigorous fashion.

  “What did she say?”

  Levet grimaced. “She told me that we’re all in danger.”

  Torque’s arm abruptly wrapped around her waist as Rya gave a small gasp, tugging her protectively against the hard strength of his chest.

  “We already knew that,” he growled.

  She glanced over her shoulder to send Torque a reprimanding frown before returning her attention to Levet.

  “Anything else?”

  Levet nodded. “She insisted that we must wake the dragon.”

  “What dragon?” Torque demanded.

  Levet glanced toward him with an overly innocent smile. “I assume that she meant your female.”

  Torque swore beneath his breath. “For the last time, she isn’t mine,” he ground out.

  Levet shrugged. “So you say.”

  Feeling Torque stiffen, Rya rolled her eyes.

  Men…

  Did they all feel the need to bicker and fuss like rabid orcs?

  “Is that all she said?” she asked, trying to diffuse the sizzling tension in the air.

  “Oui.” Levet nodded. “Just that we are in danger and that someone must wake the dragon.”

  Slowly turning in Torque’s arms, she met his narrowed gaze.

  “Rya—”

  She overrode his protest. “We have to find the dragon. And we have to do it now.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Finn turned away from the closed fissure to study the strange mound that consumed the majority of the cavern floor.

  Unlike the ice that made up the labyrinth, it was denser. And far too cloudy to determine what was beneath it.

  Not that Finn intended to find out.

  His magic easily determined that it wasn’t just one big chunk of frozen liquid. Instead, there were thousands of thin layers that covered a hidden object.

  Clearly someone had gone to a lot of trouble to keep the thing buried. He had no intention of disturbing it.

  With a shiver, he made his way along the edge of the cavern, his gaze lifted toward the ridge far above him. He could sense at least one guard, but the weird flux of the labyrinth meant he couldn’t be sure there weren’t more.

  Inching around a thick stalagmite, he discovered a male frost sprite lying on frozen ground, his thin face drained of color and his pale hair tangled.

  Finn didn’t have to ask his friend to know that he’d been forced to use his magic to the point of complete collapse.

  “Tasko,” he murmured in low tones, reaching out to grasp the male’s shoulder and give him a small shake. “Tasko, you must wake.”

  Putting a punch of magic behind his command, he watched as Tasko grimly forced his eyes open. For a second the male looked confused, as if Finn was the last person he expected to see.

  Then, with a shaky hand, he reached up to lay his fingers against Finn’s cheek. “My prince. Is it really you?”

  “Shh.” Finn quickly glanced around, ensuring nothing was sneaking up on them. “It’s really me.”

  The male grimaced. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  Finn ignored the soft chiding. Tasko was his strongest warrior, and the one tribesman who felt comfortable speaking his mind.

  “How is the cuff locked?” he instead demanded, crouching down so he could study the heavy manacle wrapped around the male’s ankle.

  “By magic,” Tasko said, his voice thick with disgust. “I’ve tried every trick I know and haven’t been able to put a dent in it.”

  Finn reached out to touch the heavy metal, hissing as pain shot from his fingers up his arm.

  “Iron,” he breathed, jerking his hand away.

  “Yeah, our idiotic captors expect us to use our magic to retrieve gems from the ice, but they keep us so drained we can barely function.”

  Finn swiftly considered their options. There weren’t many. The iron meant he couldn’t physically break open the manacles. And the unknown magic prevented him from turning the metal to frost.

  His only hope was his rare talent to move through ice.

  “I’ll have to share my powers for you to escape,” he said. “Be ready to run.”

  “No, Finn,” the younger male protested, well aware that the effort would drain Finn of his magic. “Don’t waste your strength on me. Release the others first.”

  Finn gave a decisive shake of his head. “It might not be official, but we both know you’re the obvious heir to take my place if something happens to me,” he pointed out. “The tribe needs you.”

  Grabbing the male’s leg just below the knee, he released his magic. It was intoxicating. Like champagne bubbles dancing through his veins. Focusing his will, he allowed the power to flow through his palm and into Tasko’s leg.

  Immediately his foot began to sink into the floor, as if it was melting through the ice. Tasko bit his lower lip, shuddering as the cold sliced through his body. Finn, however, didn’t relent, continuing to pump his magic through his leg until the manacle was fully surrounded by ice. Then, jerking Tasko’s leg up, he shut off his magic.

  With a flurry of sparkles, Tasko’s calf and foot re-formed. This time without the heavy iron cuff that remained trapped beneath the floor.

  “I’m free,” Tasko rasped, his shaky tone revealing his fear that he was destined to die in the strange labyrinth.

  Finn straightened, grasping Tasko’s arm so he could tug him to his feet. “Can you create a portal?” he demanded.

  A grim determination flared in Tasko’s light blue eyes. “I’ll force one open.”

  Finn nodded. “Good. I’ll release the others.”

  Depending on his warrior to find a way to get them out of the cavern, Finn concentrated on moving forward. His feet felt oddly heavy, but he refused to acknowledge his weariness.

  Adair had said her brothers would soon be returning.

  The clock was ticking.

  He found the next sprite curled in a small cavity dug into the wall.

  Ineke was a tiny female with a mass of silver hair and gray eyes. She barely looked big enough to be fully grown, but her magic was off the charts. Which was no doubt why she’d been kidnapped.

  Containing his flare of fury at the sight of her ashen complexion and the purple shadows beneath her eyes, Finn bent down to grab her leg, leaving her asleep until he’d managed to use his powers to press her foot into the ice. She at last woke when he was finishi
ng, as if jolted when he removed his magic.

  Like Tasko, she blinked in confusion. “Finn?”

  He leaned forward, placing his hand over her mouth as he whispered directly in her ear.

  “Tasko is waiting at the back of the cavern,” he told her. “See if you can join your powers with his to open a portal for the others.”

  She rose to her feet, briefly swaying. Still, her concern was focused on him.

  “You need to rest, my prince,” she murmured softly, reaching up to press her fingers to his cheek.

  He shook his head. “Later.”

  “But—”

  Finn gave her a small push toward the narrow pathway that led to the back of the cavern. “Go.”

  She hesitated, tears filling her beautiful eyes. “Thank you.”

  He gave a short nod, waiting for her to spin on her heel and disappear in the shadows that appeared to be thickening.

  Finn swayed, but with grim determination he was once again moving forward.

  Nothing was going to stop him from freeing his people.

  End. Of. Story.

  He found the next two tribesmen chained together. Motioning for them to remain silent as they parted their lips in shock at his sudden appearance, he performed the same ritual. Thankfully, they were close enough that he could free them both at the same time.

  Ordering them to join Tasko and Ineke, he went in search of the last of his tribesmen.

  It took a few minutes to at last find Daq at the very front of the cavern. The young male had a bloody lip and a dark bruise on his cheek that spoke of a recent beating.

  Bastards.

  Finn contained his fury, using his rapidly fading magic to get rid of the manacle. Then, gently shaking the young male awake, he helped him to a sitting position.

  “Can you stand?” he asked in a low whisper.

  “Yes.” With a pained grimace, Daq rose to his feet. Then, with a choked cry, he grabbed Finn’s hand to squeeze his fingers. “Bless you, my prince.”

  Finn offered a rueful smile. “Don’t thank me yet,” he warned. “We still have to get out of here.”

  As if the words had conjured his worst fear, there was a sudden movement on the ridge just above them. Finn cursed as a tall, thickly muscled male dressed in jeans and a long leather coat headed down the stairs carved into the ice. He had a bow angled across his back, along with a full quiver of arrows.

  “Get to the back of the cavern and tell Tasko to get through the portal,” Finn commanded. He had to distract the approaching stranger or none of them were making it out of the labyrinth. “Once you’re back home I want you to head to Nome and lock yourselves in the safe house.”

  Daq’s lips parted to argue, then, meeting Finn’s determined gaze, he gave a reluctant nod and turned to hurry away.

  At the same time, Finn moved to block the path.

  “There you are,” the male drawled from the edge of the ridge, the faint scent of herbs revealing he was a Sylvermyst.

  Finn narrowed his gaze, studying the stranger. He had light red hair that was pulled into a braid that hung down his back. His face was narrow, with small eyes and a strange mark branded into the side of his neck. A gift from the Dark Lord? Impossible to say.

  Finn was far more interested in the faint resemblance to Adair in the platinum eyes that warned him this wasn’t just another Sylvermyst, but one of her brothers.

  With a sudden leap, the male was landing directly in front of him.

  Finn folded his arms over his chest. The longer he could keep the male preoccupied, the greater the chance his people could escape. “I didn’t realize you were looking for me.”

  An ugly sneer touched the male’s cruel mouth. “I should have known you would try to escape. Royalty always has to be a pain in the ass.”

  Finn arched a brow, not missing the edge in the male’s voice.

  Clearly he had authority issues.

  “You have no idea just how much of a pain I intend to be,” Finn assured him with a mocking smile.

  Anger flared through the man’s eyes before he was deliberately assuming a nonchalant manner. “Tsk. Tsk. You aren’t in a position to be issuing threats,” he drawled, his gaze flicking to the side as another male abruptly stepped out of the ice.

  Finn scowled, belatedly sensing the hidden tunnel. Dammit, this place was like a twisted funhouse.

  “I see you found our prisoner, Micah,” the newest stranger said, his face almost a carbon copy of the first male, although his eyes were darker and his chin weaker.

  Finn also had the sense that he was the younger of the two.

  Micah frowned. “Did you see the other prisoners?”

  “No, but Lila is searching for them.”

  “Damn.” Micah clenched his hands into tight fists before he was sucking in a deep breath. “No matter. They can’t have gone far.”

  Finn silently prayed the male was wrong. With any luck, Tasko would have already opened a portal and whisked his people far away.

  “Do you want me to take this one back to his cell?” the second male demanded.

  “No, now that he’s here we might as well put him to use,” Micah said, strolling forward to study Finn with a dismissive gaze. “So, you’re a prince.”

  “And you aren’t,” Finn mocked, knowing he was touching a raw nerve.

  The male’s nose flared, but he grimly held on to his temper. “Smirk if you want, but I shall soon be a king,” he informed Finn.

  “Really.” Finn deliberately glanced toward the male standing off to the side. “And what about you?”

  The Sylvermyst blinked in confusion. “Me?”

  “Do you get to be king?” he pressed, sensing he was the weaker of the two. “Or does your brother get all the glory?”

  “I—”

  “That’s none of your concern,” Micah interrupted.

  The second male scowled. “Micah.”

  “Shit, Jarvis, he’s just trying to cause trouble,” the male snapped.

  “But I get to be king,” Jarvis demanded. “Don’t I?”

  Micah sliced his hand through the air. “We’ll discuss this later.”

  “Later.” Finn chuckled, keeping his gaze on Jarvis. “That’s the code word for ‘he doesn’t intend to share the throne.’”

  “Shut up,” Micah growled, abruptly slamming his fist into Finn’s face. “You will do as I say or you’ll pay the consequences.”

  Finn swallowed the blood from his split lip, his smile never fading. The punch had hurt like a bitch, but there was no way he was revealing any vulnerability in front of the Sylvermyst. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Then you’re an idiot,” Micah assured him, lifting his hand. “I learned how to inflict pain from a master.”

  Prepared for another blow, or even an arrow through the heart, Finn was caught off guard when a blinding pain sliced through his head.

  Dark magic.

  A cry was ripped from his throat. It felt as if someone was carving a knife through his brain. Slice. Slice. Slice.

  “Stop.” The word passed his lips before he could halt it.

  Micah chuckled, clearly tickled by his little trick. “I have discovered that there are worse things than death,” he taunted.

  Finn pressed his palms against his temples and squeezed. As if he could somehow halt the searing agony. “What do you want from me?” he rasped.

  The pain continued as the male leaned down to speak directly in his ear.

  “Remove the ice from the center of the floor,” he told Finn. “Simple.”

  Finn’s breath was released on a hiss. “If it was so simple, you would do it.”

  The pain abruptly intensified. “Just do it.”

  Finn battled back a looming darkness. Holy shit. He’d never endured such torture.

  “I can’t do anything if I’m unconscious,” he snarled.

  The pain began to ease, and Finn lifted his head to meet the glittering platinum gaze. It didn’t take a mind reader to
know that Micah enjoyed seeing him on his knees.

  “One wrong move and I’ll make sure you regret it,” the Sylvermyst promised.

  Finn rose to his feet, his knees threatening to collapse. Covertly he placed his hand behind his back, using the wall to keep himself upright.

  “What’s beneath the ice?” he demanded. Not that he gave a shit, but he needed time to recover his strength.

  Once he could conjure his magic, he intended to collapse the entire cavern. He’d see if the bastards could crawl out of several tons of ice.

  “Obviously that’s what you’re going to find out,” Micah sneered.

  Finn turned his attention toward the swell of ice that towered just a few feet away. Once again he was struck by the sense of…wrongness.

  He asked the question that’d been preying on his mind. “Did it occur to you that someone went to a lot of trouble to cover it in so many layers?”

  The scent of herbs deepened as Micah glanced toward the looming mound. Naked greed tightened his narrow features.

  “Of course it did. Which is precisely why I want it uncovered.” Micah stepped toward the mound, his body vibrating with excitement. “It must be priceless.”

  Finn frowned. The more he concentrated on the strange heap of ice, the more unnerved he was at the thought of messing with it. “Or dangerous,” he muttered.

  “What are you talking about?” Jarvis demanded, his expression torn between his brother’s lust and a wary unease.

  Could the younger Sylvermyst sense the menace that throbbed beneath the ice?

  “Nothing,” Micah snapped, his seething frustration prickling through the air. “He’s just playing for time.”

  That’d been the original intent. Now, however, he was genuinely concerned.

  The more he concentrated on the ice, the more certain he was that it was there to keep something trapped.

  Something they wanted to stay trapped.

  “No. We shouldn’t mess with it,” he muttered in distracted tones.

  Jarvis inched a step toward him. As if Finn could offer him protection from whatever was lurking just out of sight.

  “Why not?” he asked Finn.

  Finn shuddered. “Darkness.”

  “Micah,” Jarvis muttered. “Maybe we should wait until—”

  “What is wrong with you?” He whirled to glare at his brother. “The sprite is trying to screw with us.”