Page 19 of The Serpent Prince

Finally, composing himself, he leaned back and crossed his arms. A slight smile still curved his lips. “But you’d still fight me, so that more or less has no meaning.”

The conversation lapsed between them, strange silence stretching on for minutes—not quite comfortable but not quite uncomfortable. Imani turned away from him and watched the palace come into view.

While attempting to learn everything about Niflheim, Imani had read stories of the city. How elves shaped the stone by hand, carving the rock piece by piece in the way elves did, but she had not expected this.

The city was an impossible, dizzying maze of walkways, and bridges, and spires, gray and gold buildings forged right into the side of the mountain. It was tall, too, with narrow stairways and ladders stamped into the stone that guided people off the main road and up into a web of storefronts and homes built into Menlone Mountain.

Even in the dark daylight, the large building was beautiful yet daunting. The massive towers loomed over the city below, but most of the castle was hidden behind an immense stone wall, made of the same smooth obsidian rock, reaching higher than anyone could climb without being cut down by the guards. There was something about the way the drab daylight hit the shining black spires, the turrets, the domes, even the snow on the mountaintop, that made everything appear imposing.

She’d never been anywhere remotely like this place, but even in Essenheim, she doubted the shadows amongst the snow could intimidate the same way it did here.

They made their way into Kehemol proper, and Imani felt that familiar blackness sneak in around her vision. In the next instant, she was standing next to Meira, who was struggling, tied to a bed. Confused, Imani simply watched for a few seconds.

Her sister’s hair was matted and uncombed, and she looked to be in a tattered nightdress. Blood started dripping around her wrists where the ties were. Imani winced at the pain, rubbing her own wrists to wipe away the blood. She opened her mouth to speak to Meira, but as soon as the image was there, it was gone.

As she came to again, her eyes focused, and like her first time in Stralas, she was mesmerized. While unsettled by the vision she’d just seen, she couldn’t let Kiran know she’d seen it and donned a mask of indifference.

He didn’t seem to notice, thank the Saints.

Inside the city walls, the maze of streets was like a coiled, jeweled serpent with homes and shops glued to one another in a loving, untidy, yet organized fashion. Lights from fires, sconces, and torches swayed from windows and doorways.

She squinted across the rooftops toward the castle, specifically the east wall, where three figures stood and walked back and forth. Hefting something large above his head, one shoved a body over the side, and two more followed.

Imani’s mouth fell open at the sight of the bloated, decaying corpses. They didn’t subscribe to such a barbaric method of execution in Essenheim.

Disgusted, she turned away to face Kiran. “Why display their bodies and mar such a beautiful city with the sight?”

Kiran, as always, seemed unaffected. His attention slowly shifted from her to what had caught her eye. A pause, then … “Because a couple of swinging corpses sends more of a message than an obliterated body.” He said the last part with a pointed look, as if referencing what Imani did with her shadows.

Imani almost bristled but decided it wasn’t worth it, so she kept her mouth shut. They fell into a companionable silence, yet Imani couldn’t look out the window. Instead, she kept her eyes on him for the rest of the ride.

They arrived at the castle near nightfall with little fanfare. Imani was escorted to a beautiful room with an incredible view of Kehemol. She was only given an hour to bathe and change her clothes before a note was delivered to her room.

Time to show us your miraculous magic at work. Meet us in the training yard in ten. – K

She crumpled up the note, began dressing for the winter weather, and then took her time making her way down to the training yard.

Biting cold wind ripped through the fabric of her furred cloak and velvet dress as she carefully stepped onto the gravel, leaving goosebumps on her legs and arms. The cloud cover was so thick that Imani couldn’t even see the moon. Able to move more freely in this light, or lack thereof, the shadows wrapped around her like a blanket, purring in contentment—they felt at home and, in a strange way, so did Imani.

Her feet crunched through the dirt and stones as she enchanted her wand to emit a light glow to lead the way until she came to a large fire. As Prince Kiran had intended, she was nervous about what was about to happen. She wrung her hands together to stop the shaking.

Kiran stood in front of five men, studying her carefully. It was unnerving. Like a lion watching prey as it decided how best to bring it down by landing a killing move.

Shadows doused the hard panes of his face, but his features were so sharp that they sliced through the darkness, meeting hers with a mix of maniacal anger and delighted curiosity. As he studied her movements, there was a wickedness in his stare that had become all too familiar to Imani. He thought she had deliberately lied to him, and he absolutely did not appreciate it. Indeed, as she got closer to him, the look in his eyes turned colder, darker. And his smile grew wider, meaner.

Hugging her arms around her middle, Imani swallowed hard as she stared at the men on their knees, the light from the flames dancing across their grim expressions. Although their hands were tied behind their backs, she was able to see most of them were Niflheim breeds. Unlucky bastards who had been caught trying to escape north, if she had to guess. How bad could life be in Niflheim if its people were this desperate? She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

“What’s going on? Why am I here?” Imani asked tentatively.

Expertly flipping the knife he’d thrown at her in his hand, Kiran appeared relaxed, as if he were simply having a bit of fun, despite the foreboding mood that permeated the area. He turned to stare at her again, head-on. “In about five minutes, Saevel is going to come out here and randomly choose one of these men to die.”

The pit of worry in her stomach grew bigger.

Kiran spread his arms wide and gave her a crooked smile. “I want to know which one of these pieces of shit Saevel will pick first.”

“I owe you nothing like this,” she said, her voice tight. While she didn’t take issue with killing any criminals who attacked them, nor any traitors to their country, she didn’t feel the need to play with her food like Kiran. Watching these people die was not something she wanted to do at the moment. The energy drain, the blood, the horror on their faces was too much for her exhausted body. The temptation to devour their souls would be a problem, too.

“If you don’t, all five will die.”