Page 69 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“He won’t find them. I hid them.” Her confidence faltered.

“Huntress . . . if he finds them, he could learn valuable secrets about Devania.”

Kora twitched, his voice dripping through her mind like honey, each glistening drop fading into the deep, dark, black pit.

“Stop,” she wavered. Had she hid them? Doubt crept in as she tried to mentally filter through the mess she’d left her room in at Cadell Manor. Would Barron go there? Would they storm the manor?

“The four magoires were split, each containing a select amount of history. Ours is the second, the first one is lost. The two you have must be the latest, leading up to the Devanian Conquest.” Raiden approached, becoming the singular point in the arena.

“Care to clue us in on your conversation?” Aerion drawled, his head tilting with amusement. A cold laugh echoed, mimicking Aerion’s humour and warping his features. Tiny black veins writhed across his body, choking his neck, staining his curls. No, not again!

“Get out of my head!” Kora yelled, her skin heating, a sinister laugh bubbling in her throat. Raiden froze as she repeated the yell, but towards the darkness leering within. Her voice warped, the tones turning husky and rough.

“Huntress, focus.”

“Stop it!” Kora rubbed her head, her scar flaring with cold pain and her heart thumped wildly, her water beast crying for release to dampen the enemy lurking within.

“Eyes on me.”

Kora’s stare whipped to Raiden, unaware he’d moved closer. Her neck craned to meet his gaze, his chest so close it brushed hers with every breath. The scent of fresh air dizzied her, of grounded, hardened steel, like weapons, strengthening her spine. She followed his breathing, her chest mirroring his as the storm in her mind settled.

“It’s creepy when you do that,” Aryn muttered as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Aerion.

“It’s creepy when your eyes glow,” Raiden replied without breaking his stare from Kora.

“I think it’s cool,” Aerion said quietly, and Aryn’s lips quirked. “K, you said you were in control. What was that?”

“I’m fine,” she shakily exhaled, rubbing her sweaty palms on her legs. “I just . . . I’m worried. About Aldara.”

Aerion’s mouth thinned in disbelief as he stared at her. His doe eyes scanned her head to toe, as if he could reveal the illusions haunting her.

Raiden twitched, his arm reaching forward slightly and Kora stepped back, brushing her hair out of her eyes. It swished around her shoulders as she wiped the sweat from the back of her neck.

“It’s time for a break,” Aerion changed the subject. “K, come with me, I’ve got something to show you.”

As Kora followed Aerion across the arena, grateful for the distraction, a pair of diamond eyes tracked her the whole way, causing a fire to burn deep within her chest.

31

Kora

Aerion guided Kora over to the glistening sea of weapons and shields spanning the far wall of the arena below the viewing deck above. She frowned at the weapons attached to the wall, some of them ten feet above her head. A mix of swords, daggers, maces, and axes, including many she didn’t recognise. To the left was an abundance of variously shaped shields, the steel so refined, shining like clear-cut water. She reined in her usual scoff when presented with a shield.

Shields were hardly used in the empire, only as a precaution to prevent arrow fire, but when in the face of a ship’s cannon, a shield was as useful as parchment.

“Those daggers aren’t working for you.” Aerion gestured to the simple weapons attached to her thighs. Apparently, back scabbards weren’t a thing here. They upset the balance of wind.

“My last ones had been crafted for me.” Kora brushed the metal absentmindedly. “Aryn gave these to me as a replacement.” It’d unnerved her at how familiar he was with Windspire, where to go, where to find things. This had been his home for gods-knew-how long.

Silver curls bounced around Aerion’s forehead as his head shook. His brown skin had deepened recently, a subtle glow emanating from him which reached his eyes whenever Aryn was mentioned. Interesting.

“Aryn doesn’t know much outside of archery. He’s quick and great in a close-range fight, but he can’t tell the difference between a rapier and a seax. Not to mention, those won’t do anything for you when your magic is restored.” Aerion fluttered his tattooed fingers, and a single blade floated down from the top of the rack.

Kora held out her hand, her mouth parting as a familiar dagger landed in her palm. The sharp edge glinted despite the Mist blanketing the sunset—had it thinned recently? Each day that passed, the sun seemed brighter. Kora traced those swirling patterns she recognised across the chrome hilt. A singular archaic symbol drew her attention in the star-shaped pommel.

A shape she’d seen before, when her talisman had fully transformed. An eight-pointed star, banded together by a welded ring embedded with pearls, leading to the symbol dazzling in its centre.

“I’ve seen this before,” Kora whispered. “In a chest aboard Demon Sea Siren. I thought it’d been a bribe to the pirates. How is it here?”