Draekora

  “I mean, I get it—you’re the prince and blah, blah, blah,” Niyx continued, approaching them, “but seriously, with all that trouble we caused the other day, I thought maybe—” He cut off abruptly, seeming to notice Alex for the first time. “Oh. I see.” He raised a cocky eyebrow and sent a knowing look to Aven before turning back to her. “Well, he-llo there. And who might you be, gorgeous?”

  Aven made a derisive sound. “Save it, Niyx. She doesn’t yet know enough to understand you. And trust me when I say that’s to her benefit. Tone it back a notch, would you? Some of us want to keep our breakfast down.”

  Niyx’s second eyebrow rose to join the first. “Ahh, can this be the lovely Lasa Aeylia you’ve told me so much about?”

  Alex twitched, and Niyx caught the movement, his brows rising a fraction higher.

  “She only arrived yesterday,” Aven argued, drawing Niyx’s attention back to him. “I’ve hardly mentioned her at all.”

  “Exactly. I’m reading between the lines of how much you didn’t say.”

  Aven’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “She’s very pretty, especially with the vaeliana,” Niyx said with a smirk, eyeing the now excruciatingly uncomfortable Alex from head to toe. “That’s one of the things that you didn’t say. Would you like me to list the others?”

  “Enough, Niyx,” Aven said through his teeth. “I’m sorry I was late, all right? I was on my way here when Roka waylaid me to ask if I’d look after Aeylia for the day. I get it; you’re unnaturally punctual and you’re annoyed I was so late. But this game isn’t necessary.”

  “Game?” Niyx was clearly amused. “Who said anything about a game?”

  “I mean it.” Aven’s face was serious. “Whatever you’re thinking, about me, about her, about you, stop it right now.”

  Niyx crossed his arms, his smirk still in place. “I’ll let it go—for now. But only because we’re being shamefully rude.” He turned to Alex and, to her disbelief, spoke the common tongue with perfect fluency. “Apologies for being so discourteous, Lasa Aeylia. I’m Loro Niyx, firstborn son and heir to House Raedon of the High Court. I also happen to have the misfortune of calling this brute my best friend.” He jerked a thumb towards Aven. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him, but—nope, who am I kidding? He’s a pain in the ass most of the time. But you’ll learn to love him.”

  Alex could do nothing but gape from the confident manner in which he conversed.

  “What did you say to her?” Aven demanded, grabbing the arm of his friend to pull him away from Alex.

  Niyx casually dislodged his hand. “Relax. I was just introducing myself.”

  Aven looked extremely disgruntled and asked, “Tell me again why I decided not to learn the common tongue with you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a narcissistic jackass who cares about nothing and no one unless you stand to benefit in some way?”

  Alex inhaled sharply, startled by Niyx’s candid declaration. But while Aven again missed her unchecked reaction, Niyx caught her every move—and this time his eyes narrowed with curiosity that bordered on suspicion. She, however, was too busy wondering if Aven was going to throw a punch at him to worry about what she might have inadvertently given away.

  As it was, she needn’t have been concerned. Because instead of lashing out with anger, Aven burst out laughing.

  The sound was beyond anything Alex could have imagined. She’d heard him laugh before, but nothing like this. Nothing that sounded so clean and pure and light. More than anything else, it was the melody of his laughter that convinced her that he was not—yet—her Aven.

  All of a sudden Alex wondered if perhaps Lady Mystique had been right—if being in the past was an opportunity to not only learn the skills to defeat him, but to also discover who he was now, who he could have been, rather than who he would one day become. Maybe she might even see a fraction of that transition taking place, enough that it might give her some leverage in the future, something to help fight him and win.

  The idea was so convoluted that it made her head hurt, and when she looked up again, both Aven and Niyx were looking at her in question.

  “Vassa rae,” she quickly apologised. She turned her eyes to Niyx and said, “Uh, I tuned out for a moment there. Did you ask me something?”

  “So you can speak,” Niyx returned with a perfect white grin. “I was worried for a moment that you might be all looks, no brain. Imagine my relief.”

  Unsure how to respond, Alex settled on, “You, uh, speak the common tongue very well, Loro Niyx.”

  He shrugged aside her compliment. “It’s not a hard dialect to learn.”

  “So I’ve been told,” she returned, still reeling over how fast the Meyarins were able to pick up new languages.

  Aven cleared his throat pointedly and Niyx shot him an annoyed glance before turning back to Alex. “The royal brat wants to know if you’d like a drink?”

  Alex blinked, wondering what else she’d missed during the scant seconds she’d been lost in her thoughts. “Uh, sure.” Deciding to play nice, she addressed Aven directly, “Sesu, nalahi. Atari sae.”

  A hint of a smile touched Aven’s lips as he nodded at her, and after throwing what appeared to be a warning look in Niyx’s direction, he walked off towards the balconied bistro.

  When he was far enough away, Niyx snorted and Alex turned back to him to ask, “What’s funny?”

  “‘Yes, please. Thank you’—overkill, much? Just how thirsty are you?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Hey, I only started learning last night. Give me a break.”

  At that, he laughed outright. “You know, I almost believe you.”

  She hesitated a shade too long before schooling her face into puzzlement and asking, “What do you mean?”

  “What I don’t believe,” he said, acting like she hadn’t spoken at all, “is the story about you being abandoned and left to live with mortals for most of your life. Even if that were true, you would have been born here. Someone has to remember you, surely.” His eyes trailed over her from head to toe again and he lowered his voice to finish, “I’d remember you, I can promise you that.”

  Alex’s entire body solidified at his words. Not at the teasing innuendo behind them, but at the words themselves, and at the memory they called to mind from a few days earlier.

  ‘I remember you, you know,’ Niyx had told her from his prison cell. ‘I shouldn’t, but I do… No one remembers, no one except me.’

  And then, as if her subconscious was linking memories, she recalled the first time she’d met Niyx months ago when Zain had dragged him to the palace. ‘Come now, kitten… I’ve missed you these past years.’

  Back then Alex had thought Niyx was just trying to antagonise her, but now…

  “Crap on a cracker,” Alex whispered, staring at him with incredulity. “You knew. I can’t believe it. You knew all along, you piece of—”

  It was probably for the best that Aven called out and interrupted her then, mostly to stop her from accidentally spilling any secrets to Niyx who looked intrigued by her nonsensical words, but also because whatever name she’d been about to call the future prisoner was likely not appropriate in public, regardless of the fact that no one other than him would have understood her.

  “Drinks are up,” Aven announced loudly, walking from the indoor bar towards a set of chairs on the café’s balcony overlooking the water. “Come and get them.”

  Niyx looked at Alex with a curious yet challenging expression on his face. “I’d give a lot to hear what you were about to say, but I know our princely friend has a royal lack of patience. Fear not, Aeylia—we can continue our discussion later.”

  And with those promising words, he motioned with one outstretched arm for her to precede him to the table where Aven was waiting for them.

  Mind still reeling, Alex did exactly that, desperately trying not to show how shaken she was with every step she too
k.

  Sixteen

  Alex wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow she survived her morning.

  While drinking a fruity nectar that again proved the Meyarins had the best food in Medora, Alex listened in silence as Niyx and Aven conversed. It was surreal for her, since everything they said was so normal; just two friends catching up over a drink. She couldn’t get her head around Aven asking Niyx how his father was, if his mother was still determined to marry him off by the end of the year and if his sister was pleased her varrungard results allowed her to join the Zeltora. Their conversations were so… mundane.

  Even Niyx’s return questions to Aven were borderline boring, mostly with him asking about the upcoming end-of-season banquet. Apparently Aven was tasked with planning the annual celebration to farewell the summer. The prince claimed the event was coming along nicely and was on track to be the grandest festival in Meyarin history. But according to Niyx, Aven said that about every event he had a hand in planning, such was his cocky confidence.

  As the two of them chatted, Alex truly felt like a fly on the wall, eavesdropping on her future enemy and his best friend. Whenever Niyx tried to draw her into the conversation by mockingly offering to translate for her—his dry tone always just a shade too amused for her liking—she repeatedly told him she was happy being left to her own thoughts.

  ‘Happy’ was a stretch of the imagination, because ever since realising that the Niyx of the future knew about Alex’s trip to the past, she couldn’t stop thinking about what else he’d told her inside his cell. At the time she’d thought he’d been spouting the inane ramblings of a mad Meyarin left alone too long, and she’d barely paid him any attention. But there was something he’d said at the end, something that had sounded like a warning, if only she could recall it. The best she could manage was a reference to change, or perhaps a lack of change. None of that helped her now, though, and anything else he’d said was lost to her subconscious.

  She spent most of the time at De Talen torn between sipping her drink and straining her memory as she half listened to the two Meyarins catch up as if they hadn’t just seen each other yesterday. Putting two and two together, Alex realised Niyx had been involved in whatever ‘urgent business’ had called Roka and Astophe away from dinner last night—the same business that had prompted Roka to suggest Aven be wiser when choosing his friends.

  Given what Alex was learning of the insouciant Niyx—both past and future versions of him—she wholeheartedly agreed that he was trouble with a capital T. But there was also something about him that intrigued her. He was so cavalier, so casually lackadaisical that she almost envied him. Even when Aven told him straight up to stop flirting with the clearly flustered Alex—which happened every time he swapped over to the common tongue—Niyx simply laughed outright and obscenely replied, “Fine, but only because you saw her first.” He then misinterpreted the expression Aven threw his way as disbelief and laughingly added, “By the stars, I swear it, Aven. You have my word. She’s all yours.”

  Alex, for her part, had wanted to throw her drink at the both of them for talking about her as though she was nothing more than chattel. Not to mention, doing so within hearing range. But of course she resisted, suspicious that Niyx was trying to provoke her into revealing her deceit.

  At the anticipated language-learning rate, she figured she had maybe two more days of acting like she was oblivious to anything but the basics. So, on the off chance she might overhear something of worth, she ignored the byplay between the two Meyarins and continued sipping her beverage, only imagining throwing it in their faces.

  When they were all finished with their drinks, Niyx excused himself by turning to Alex and saying in Meyarin, “Until next time, gorgeous. And hey, if this one strikes out with you”—he jerked a thumb at Aven—“then I’m always happy to step up and give it a shot. You never know; you might just find me charming. One way or another, I can guarantee we’d have a good time.”

  The roguish wink Niyx sent her was so implicitly wicked that Alex had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from blushing.

  She was grateful when Aven diverted his attention by shoving him in the shoulder. “You’d better thank the stars she can’t understand you, kregon. And for the record, I’m not going to ‘strike out’ with her because I won’t be attempting to strike in with her. Aes Daega tasked Roka and me to teach her the ways of our people, nothing more. By the light! What’s the matter with you?”

  While they bickered back and forth, Alex tried to revisit her mental happy place rather than linger on the idea of Aven trying to strike anything when it came to her. That was just… There were no words for how wrong that was. She only managed to keep a grip on her sanity by distractedly wondering why ‘kregon’ wasn’t able to translate fully. All she could tell was that the future Roka had been right about it impolitely referencing the rear end of something, she just wasn’t sure what. Not that she particularly wanted to know.

  Lost in thought, she missed Niyx whizzing off on the Valispath and only realised she and Aven were alone again when he called her name in question.

  “Vassa rae,” she said again, apologising for tuning out and offering a weak smile as her heartbeat hitched now that it was just the two of them once more.

  “That’s all right, Aeylia,” Aven said, his common tongue pronunciation hesitant but clear. “You must have been quite”—he searched for the correct word—“bored listening to Niyx and me. I apologise for negating you.”

  Alex’s brow furrowed at his last sentence before she realised what he’d meant. “Do you mean neglecting me?”

  Looking sheepish—and that was an expression Alex never would have imagined seeing on Aven’s face—he said, “Neglecting, yes.” He sighed to himself and muttered in Meyarin, “It’s like the blind leading the blind. What a nightmare.”

  Unable to help agreeing with him, at least for the last part, Alex actually had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

  “Come, Aeylia,” Aven said in his native language as he motioned for her to follow him, “and I shall introduce you to the wonder of our fair city.”

  Quelling her apprehension—for the most part—Alex stepped up beside him and allowed him to lead her through the streets of Meya.

  With frequent use of the Valispath—which to Alex was comparable to a ‘hop on, hop off’ bus tour—Aven went about showing her around his favourite parts of the city. He took her high up onto the Golden Cliffs to offer her the best view of the stunning metropolis laid out across the valley and reaching high into the heavens; he took her to the base of one of the waterfalls so she could dip her feet in the clearest water she’d ever seen; and he took her into the heart of the city where Meyarins were bustling around and going about their daily lives, running errands, trading wares, even practising combat as if for street performances. It was all so normal, but with the picturesque backdrop of something only found in an epic Hollywood blockbuster.

  No matter where Aven took her, Alex could only marvel at the architectural phenomenon that was the citadel. The spiralling buildings with their arcs, curves and graceful flowing lines seemed to pay tribute to the simplicity of nature in a way that enabled Meya to defy the ages and remain timeless. Trees of both silver and gold grew in abundance around the shining Myrox-lined buildings, making it seem like the city was both part of, and separate to, the surrounding forest.

  Every step Alex took brought a new wonder, a new miracle of design, and she was surprised to realise she was genuinely enjoying her day, regardless of her company. Perhaps even because of her company, given that the language barrier meant she and Aven remained mostly silent during the sightseeing trip, which enabled her to fully appreciate the experience without distraction.

  Everything was going so well until Aven used the Valispath to transport them to what appeared to be the entrance of the city.

  It was early in the afternoon and, having just eaten a delicious lunch Aven had purchased for he
r from a street vendor—some kind of sweet, grainy bread filled with toppings she couldn’t recognise—Alex was more content than ever. In fact, she was fully relaxed and at peace, almost charmed by the gentlemanly behaviour he’d consistently displayed throughout the day. She should have known better than to be lulled into a false sense of security. Because given everything she’d experienced in the last few days, nothing was ever going to be as easy as enjoying a day out in a foreign city with her sworn enemy without catastrophe striking.

  And strike it did.

  Because when they arrived near the city’s entrance on the outskirts of a large pillared courtyard, Alex knew something unexpected was happening. Something not even Aven had known about, given the inquisitive look on his face.

  The courtyard appeared to be hosting some kind of market event, with Meyarins bartering left, right and centre for goods. In the middle stood a small group of people who were gathering the most attention. It was strange seeing their horse and cart laden with goods, mostly because after everything Alex had encountered that day, the display seemed rather primitive.

  She glanced at Aven, wondering how to ask without actually asking, and was struck by the look on his face as he gazed upon the group in the middle of the square. She’d never before seen such open wonder splashed across his features.

  Interest piqued, Alex turned, and with the force of an incoming freight train, her stomach lurched violently as understanding washed over her.

  The people Aven was watching weren’t Meyarin—they were human.

  She automatically reached for Aven’s arm, wanting to drag him somewhere—anywhere—away from there. But he was too entranced to notice her feebly grabbing for him.

  “You there,” he called to one of the Meyarins walking by. “What’s going on here?”

  The male Meyarin paused, his eyes widening in recognition before he bowed deeply. “Prince Aven! What—I mean, uh—It’s an honour to meet you, Your Highness!”

  Impatient, Aven repeated, “Do you know what’s happening here?”