A Bridge of Stars Page 7

  Nuriya emerged through a doorway, looking like a new person. The hope I’d given her seemed to have sparked life in her, and even Cyrus appeared stunned. Her eyes had regained their sparkle, and she looked as striking as ever, long black hair flowing down her shoulders, wearing a silky low-cut dress that hugged her curvaceous body. She brought a heady scent of jasmine with her into the bedroom.

  “Yes,” she said, her lips curving in a smile, revealing her white teeth.

  Regaining composure, Cyrus closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his hands. He took her in with admiration before stooping down to close his lips around hers.

  “Beauty,” he murmured. His hands settled on her waist and his gaze raked hungrily over the rest of her body, like he was undressing her with his eyes.

  “You are looking different this afternoon,” he remarked, taking her hand and pulling her toward the bed.

  “I… feel different,” she said, following him. Her voice was surprisingly steady for someone who had been a trembling wreck less than an hour ago.

  “Why is that?” Cyrus wondered.

  “Today I… I realized how much I miss you when you’re gone.” As the two sank down on the mattress, she reached out and stroked his cheek timidly with her fingers. “And I realized that… I’m unhappy without you.”

  She leaned in and this time kissed his lips. From the pleasant surprise that crossed Cyrus’ face, I was sure that was the first time she had ever done that to him willingly. He pushed her back on the mattress and lay beside her, his arms snaking around her and locking her flush against him. I felt quite amazed that he seemed to actually believe her words. After everything he’d done to her, I thought he’d be suspicious at this change of mood. I could only assume that, when it came to women, his ego was bigger than his brain.

  Watching them make out for the next few minutes was sickening, knowing how much Nuriya must be despising every second. But she was putting on a good act. By the time Cyrus surfaced again, he was quite breathless, blood rising to his lips.

  Nuriya, still lying on her side, propped her head up with her elbow and traced her right hand down his muscled chest. “I was also thinking that… that maybe we could make the wedding sooner.”

  Cyrus' eyes lit up. His face broke out in a wide smile. “Of course,” he said. “If that’s what you wish. We shall have it within a week! Never mind all the extra luxury and rituals we’d have time to plan by waiting longer. I’m not so concerned with any of it as I am with seeing you… all of you… for the first time.” His eyes glistened with lust.

  I couldn’t miss the gulp in Nuriya’s throat, but it seemed that Cyrus was too preoccupied to notice.

  “I was thinking even sooner,” Nuriya said sweetly.

  Cyrus stared at her. “Sooner than a week?”

  “Yes,” she said, and then she averted her eyes, playing bashful.

  “How soon?” he pressed, clearly enjoying himself immensely.

  She pressed her lips against his again in a deep, long kiss before whispering, “Tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Cyrus actually laughed. “Well, if that is what the love of my life wishes, then… It shall be done.” He kissed her again before leaving her side and gliding out of bed.

  “Then we have only hours to prepare. It will not be the grandest wedding by far… but believe me, Nuriya, it will be the truest.” His eyes lingered on her adoringly, and I found myself wondering whether there was indeed a part of him that loved her. Just not a large enough part to stop him from destroying her life…

  “I will leave to begin preparations at once!” he announced, already moving toward the door. “And I will send some servants up to help you dress.”

  With that, he hurried out of the room.

  As Nuriya gazed after him, I could see the fear rising up behind her eyes.

  Poor woman. She looked like a lamb. A lamb ready for slaughter.

  Ben

  Once Cyrus was safely gone, I solidified myself before Nuriya. I promised her that all would be okay—even though it was a promise I didn’t even know that we could keep. I told her to go along with everything, keep playing the part, and that I would come for her. She nodded, and it killed me to see how much faith she placed in me.

  Then I had to leave, almost bumping into a group of servants entering through the door on my way out. I hurried along the palace corridors back to Horatio’s apartment. When I returned to the sitting room where I had left them, Horatio and Aisha were still sitting here, close to each other and deep in conversation.

  Their eyes shot toward me. I hurriedly explained to them that I had been successful in getting through to Nuriya, and that Cyrus had agreed to make the wedding this evening.

  As if to make my point, a loud bell began to ring outside. Then came a voice, booming through the very walls of the palace:

  “Royal wedding in five hours! King Cyrus will wed his beloved Nuriya!”

  I swallowed hard.

  Aisha swallowed harder.

  * * *

  Tonight. Everything hung on tonight. If this failed—for one or more of the many reasons that it could and should fail—then that would be it. Sherus would come after me, Lucas, Kailyn and the other three Underworld escapees… We had to pull this off. We just had to.

  I waited tensely with Horatio and Aisha during the hours before the wedding as we continued to discuss our harebrained scheme. It felt like the more we discussed it, the more holes we saw in it, until our conversation ended up petering out. We’d discussed what we could. Now all that was left was to do it.

  About half an hour before the wedding was due to start, I left for the grand court, where Horatio had told me the wedding would take place, while Horatio headed in the opposite direction, Aisha the mouse in his pocket. We had agreed that he would take Aisha back to the desert, and she would return to Lake Nasser where my family and the dragons awaited. There she would fetch the dragons, who were due to play a part in our plan later this evening… assuming they agreed. If the shifters did, they would be essentially striking out any goodwill that the dragons and the Drizans had accumulated over God knew how many years. Though it didn’t seem like they had many favors left anyway, so they hopefully wouldn’t be much worse off.

  I refocused my attention on my surroundings. I had not passed down these corridors at such a busy time before. And although I knew that jinn could not see fae in their subtle forms, it was still disconcerting to be so close to them. I went slowly, much slower than I would’ve liked. There was a long line outside the great court; it looked like the whole palace was piling in. I followed, managing to find a gap to slip through and enter the chamber.

  It was so packed, the huge chamber seemed small suddenly, and all the wedding attendees were dressed to the nines. In spite of only having five hours to prepare, the court was gorgeously decorated with garlands of vibrant flowers hugging the columns and silken orange streamers trailing from the ceiling. It was like a scene from heaven… except for Nuriya, who I had just spotted in one corner surrounded by a group of maids. I was sure that this place could not look more hellish to her. My eyes swept past a screen fixed in the center of the other side of the court, where I spotted Cyrus with a group of male jinn.

  Then I glimpsed Horatio passing through the entrance. He scanned the room and then moved farther back in the crowd, clearly trying to attract as little attention to himself as possible. But he didn’t get far. What appeared to be one of his older sisters approached him and pulled him to the front row.

  The wedding ceremony started promptly on the hour. By now, the room was packed to the brim.

  The screen was removed by a jinni in the garb of a priest—an austere brown robe and shaven head—allowing the beaming groom and slightly trembling bride to see each other. Closing the distance between them, they met in the center.

  The priest began reciting chants from an ancient book he had manifested out of thin air—chants consisting of words I could not understand. This went on for a
n uncomfortably long time. I looked around, wondering if anybody else was getting bored or antsy, but it appeared that I was the only one—I and most likely Horatio. Everyone else was leaning forward with rapt attention, eyes glued to the bride and groom.

  Finally the priest finished his recitation, and now I was expecting the couple to exchange vows of some sort, but they didn’t. Apparently that wasn’t done in jinn weddings. Instead they immediately exchanged rings—fat golden rings studded with an obnoxious array of gems—and then Cyrus pulled Nuriya against him and kissed her full on the mouth.

  Then, to my surprise, Cyrus removed Nuriya’s chains. There were murmurings in the crowd. He cast his eyes over everyone, a broad smile on his face. “As husband and wife, we are now bound more tightly than ever before.” He cast her golden manacles aside, sending them clanging to the floor. Nuriya rubbed her wrists, looking only half-relieved.

  And then with a clap of his hands, the priest announced the marriage complete. I suspected that since this was so last-minute, they had kept the formalities to the minimum. I guessed this wedding would have been a lot more elaborate and long-winded if it had taken place in a month, or whenever Cyrus had been planning to hold it.

  Cheers erupted, echoing deafeningly around the court. And then began the festivities. Platter upon platter of food fit for an emperor, troupes of musicians, dancing girls, and enough liquor to fill a lake. Either jinn were terrible at holding down alcohol, or this stuff was strong, because after barely an hour had passed, I could not spot a single jinni who was not blind drunk… except for Horatio, Nuriya and, to my dismay, Cyrus.

  Finally, as I was beginning to grow desperate, Cyrus took his new wife by the waist and bade goodbye to the drunk partygoers. He drifted with her toward the exit. I caught Horatio’s eyes following them, too. Hurrying after Cyrus and Nuriya, I couldn’t afford to lose sight of them.

  As I moved along the hallways, keeping a distance of several feet between me and the newlyweds, I thought of Horatio and what he was supposed to do now—alert Aisha and the dragons that the wedding had finished. But he had to do it fast, because I needed him back here.

  Cyrus headed straight back to his apartment as Horatio had predicted. Guiding Nuriya inside, he led her to the bedroom and seated her on the bed. He kissed her neck, his lips trailing down her throat to her bosom. Then he unraveled her silken gown until she was stripped to her undergarments. It looked like every muscle in her body was tensed, though from this angle, I could not see her face. I could only imagine how difficult it was for her to keep up this act while having no idea if I would even come through on my promise. I can’t let her down.

  Cyrus, his bottom half still covered in mist, ran his palms down Nuriya’s torso, stopping just above her navel. Then he whispered in a husky voice, “We are wed now. Reveal yourself, my love.”

  Her breath hitched, but slowly, obediently, Nuriya’s lower half emerged. Cyrus ran his wide palms down her slender legs and explored them for a while before returning to look upon her face. He removed the silk cloth draped around his chest, and then the heavy pendant from his neck, tossing them aside on the mattress. He raised a brow, a small smile quirking his lips. “Now,” he said. “Would you like to see me?”

  God, no. Not again.

  And yet our entire plan was depending on his scorpion butt making another appearance.

  “Yes,” Nuriya murmured.

  I held my breath, waiting for him to transform and for my eyeballs to be once again assaulted, but instead he scooped her up in his arms and shifted her off the bed, remaining in his smokey form. Then he moved around the bed and, with one powerful thrust of his arms, sent it sliding across the floor to the other side of the room. Where the bed had been, cut into the floor, was… a trapdoor. A secret trapdoor.

  Nuriya eyed it uncertainly.

  “I wish to take you somewhere first,” Cyrus explained.

  “Where?” Nuriya asked, no longer hiding the fear in her voice.

  “Follow and you shall see, my love.” Taking her hand, he pulled her to the trapdoor. He stooped down and creaked open the door, and then, picking her up again, descended into the hole.

  Where is Horatio? I felt leery going down without him. He was supposed to be here by now. In any case, it was hard to miss that hole in the floor. He would know where we had gone.

  I approached the trapdoor and gazed down to see the two of them disappearing into gloom. As I hurried down, there was a strange musky smell. Reaching the bottom, I found myself emerging in a dank dungeon, lit by torches. The walls were bare—made of stone—except for the far wall, which was covered entirely by a long red curtain. There wasn’t anything polished about the place except for another luxurious bed, identical to the one upstairs, placed in the center.

  Nuriya gazed around. A rather strange place to bring a bride on her wedding night.

  “What is this?” Nuriya asked.

  Cyrus hushed her.

  The firelight danced across Nuriya’s face. Her forehead had broken out in a sweat. I could practically hear the question running through her mind: Where’s Benjamin?

  I wished I could somehow let her know that I was right here, just waiting…

  Finally, it happened. After laying her down on the bed, he propped himself up on the mattress and the bottom half of him slowly manifested.

  Her eyes bulging in her sockets, Nuriya screamed.

  Way to kill the moment.

  Cyrus appeared displeased by this, to say the least. How dare Nuriya not be delighted to discover she’d just married a scorpion mutant!

  She scrambled off the bed and bolted for the door, but Cyrus’ eight legs caught up with her too fast. He grabbed hold of her and gathered her in a crushing hold before dragging her back to the bed. Apparently she was incapable of escaping by vanishing herself.

  “It’s all right,” he said, taking a deep breath—as if to calm his own annoyance as much as Nuriya’s fear. “It’s me. Just me,” he whispered, leaning down to catch her trembling lips in his. “And you’ll come to love me for what I am… as well as for what you will become.”

  Now was the time to strike. Now, or it might be never. My eyes shot toward the stairwell. I hoped to see Horatio, who was supposed to come equipped with weapons for me, but still he wasn’t there. Where the hell is he?

  My eyes raked over the chamber for any kind of weapon that I could use, but all I spotted were the burning torches. I moved for the nearest one to me, but before I reached it, Cyrus darted with Nuriya toward the other side of the room and stopped in front of the long red curtain. He drew it open. I froze.

  The curtain had been covering the entrance to another torchlit chamber, much like the one I stood in now. Except in the center was a pool of bright orange liquid, and behind the pool, crouched in the shadows, loomed the dark outline of… a black scorpion. A real, full-bodied scorpion. A scorpion larger than a horse. Its tiny eyes gleamed as they turned in their sockets, and its orange-red tipped stinger—the same color as Cyrus’—rose above its head.

  If my sister had been here to see this creeper, she would have had a heart attack. Poor Nuriya certainly looked close to it.

  The liquid in the pool, however, was almost more disconcerting than the scorpion itself. It looked identical to what I’d seen Cyrus drinking. Perhaps he had not been drinking his own venom after all… In which case, would damaging his stinger even help? Would we need to target both Cyrus and the scorpion?

  “Meet the queen of scorpions,” Cyrus announced, proudly gesturing toward the creature. “The very first scorpion ever to be captured by my great-great-grandfather.”

  “H-how?” Nuriya gasped, close to hyperventilating.

  “My uncle used to tell me tales as a boy of the exploits of my great ancestor. One of the stories involved his creating this beauty, Neema.” He cast another loving glance at his pet.

  He should hook up with her instead.

  “Nobody believed that she could still be alive, after all that time, even
after being freed from captivity and released into the wild. They underestimated just how potent a breed my great-great-grandfather had created. I, on the other hand, did believe… I hunted her down and found her.”

  He scuttled with Nuriya closer to the venomous pool. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, running his palms down Nuriya’s back, “Neema’s venom is so powerful, it is infectious to certain species… transformative, even. A gentle dip in a pool of her poison can sometimes even mutate shapeshifting species of our kind permanently. It merely depends on how strong the bather is.”

  Nuriya’s breath hitched and she struggled once again to break free.

  “I was lucky to be born from a strong bloodline,” he went on, “just as you are lucky.”

  I couldn’t wait any longer. Shooting for a torch, the only thing in this chamber I could possibly use as a weapon, I spotted Horatio in the stairwell. Finally. He was half translucent, and to my relief, he had brought half a dozen swords.

  I rushed over and grabbed a blade from him, forced to assume a solid state.

  Nuriya’s scream pierced the chamber.

  When I whirled around, it was to see Cyrus bending over the pool, holding Nuriya’s head under. Cursing beneath my breath, I raced over to him, raising the sword and aiming it at the base of his stinger. But before I reached four feet from him—even though I made no sound—he spun around abruptly, as if he had eyes at the back of his head.

  With him no longer pushing Nuriya’s head down, she spluttered and fought to pull herself out of the pool, even as she cried in agony, as if the venom burned her skin.

  Cyrus took me in, his dark eyes narrowing. “Fae?” he breathed.

  Before I could react, a chorus of mighty roars blasted overhead, so loud they seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace. The roar of dragons. They had arrived to distract the rest of the jinn.

  Cyrus scowled, then lunged for me with supernatural speed. I managed to vanish myself just in time, forced to drop my sword in the process.