Midnight's Son (Darkling Mage 5)

“This place is warded,” I said, barely holding back my amazement. “The nullification field. How did you get past that?”

Herald winked at me. “I’ve got a few

tricks up my sleeve. It’s not just ice magic all the time, you know.”

Sterling stroked at his cheek, his eyes lighting up when his fingers met smooth, unblemished skin. He looked up at Herald, as excited as a Christmas puppy right out of the box.

“I’m pretty again.”

Herald laughed.

“Thanks, man.” Sterling jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “This guy’s cool in my book. Good choice, Dustin. He’s a keeper.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Welp,” Herald exclaimed, stretching his arms out and yawning exaggeratedly. “Oh boy. I’m beat. Been up all night. I should really get some shuteye. See you guys in a few.”

Within seconds he had scooped up his belongings and bolted up the stairs.

Gil turned back to his breakfast, and Sterling slurped noisily at his coffee, his eyes laughing, piercing me through his massive sunglasses. I frowned.

“What?” I said.

Sterling kept silent, only giving me a sharp, sardonic smile.

I finished the rest of my food, gulped down some OJ, then trudged back up to our room. My legs ached as I climbed the stairs – I guess the hike up the hill had been more strenuous than I thought. I made a reminder to get some more exercise in.

At the top landing I peeked into my backpack to check on Vanitas, not entirely surprised to see that the pocket dimension had reverted into the inside of a regular, ratty old leather knapsack under the Twilight Tavern’s influence. Vanitas sat there, quiet and unmoving, like the tarnished old sword that he was. Honestly, I truly must have underestimated Herald all this time. Breaking through a nullification field to cast healing magic, on undead flesh, no less? Nothing short of impressive.

Carefully, I pushed the door open, just in case Herald was already asleep. I’d woken him once before, and it almost ended with me dead and pinned to the wall with six icicles stuck out of my chest. Just as I thought, he was already curled up under the covers, breathing softly. I gazed at my own bed longingly, but knew that I needed at least a quick shower to get the grime of the evening off me. Hey, even I have my limits, okay?

It didn’t take long to scrub and soap myself off, after all, and soon I was ready for bed, too. I threw myself on top of the covers, sighing. It was weird going to sleep at, what, nine in the morning? But it wouldn’t have been the first time. We needed all the rest we could grab for whenever the Midnight Convocation would arbitrarily decide to summon us for their trial by combat. Probably the same night, even.

But no sense dwelling on all that. I closed my eyes and settled my breathing into the same, singular rhythm. Carver had taught me to do that, to help regulate the rare but dangerous tendencies for violence and brutality that bubbled up in my blood, no doubt a byproduct of the shard of star-metal that had been left lodged in my heart. I was too tired to think, regardless, and soon I’d drifted off to sleep. I dreamt of a woman made of stars, of the diadem in her hands. I dreamt of a coronation.

My eyes fluttered open. The sunlight beyond our bedroom blinds wasn’t so bright anymore. I guessed it must have been some time in the early afternoon. Still tired, though. I looked down at myself, surprised to find that a blanket had been pulled exactly halfway up my chest. Smacking my lips, I realized I was thirsty. I reached for my side table to pour myself some water out of the pitcher that Olga had set out for us, only to find that a glass had already been poured for me.

Groggy, though oddly giddy, I smiled to myself. Herald must have done all that, woken up midway through his nap the way I had. I chugged down half a glass of cool, crisp water, then staggered to the bathroom for a quick pee. I washed my hands and came back out to find Herald still asleep on his back, snoring gently, his hair an artful mess on the pillow. His blanket had tangled around his legs somehow.

I slowly made my way to Herald’s side, so as not to wake him. Before I crept back to bed, I fixed his covers, so that they were pulled exactly halfway up his chest. I poured him a glass of water.

Chapter 24

Might be that I slept for hours, but it truly only felt like minutes. That journey to the Lunar Palace really had taken so much out of me. Was I really on the moon? Was I really in space, or was it simply how the Midnight Convocation designed their shared domicile? It had all felt like a dream.

“Wake up,” a familiar voice cooed in my ear. “Dustin, time to wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” I grumbled. Fuck off, was what I really wanted to say. I was riding on a dragon’s back, fighting the Eldest, and I was winning. I didn’t want my dream to end.

“No, seriously. You have to get up.”

I ruffled my hair in annoyance, rubbing my eyes to clear my vision. I looked around for the source of the voice, perplexed, until I saw him sitting on my side table. With his shiny copper skin, Scrimshaw blended in too well with the polished wooden furniture of the Twilight Tavern, looking more like a very ugly lamp, or a tiny statuette. He stood with his hands at his hips, his belly thrust out.

“Well? Come on. You’ve got work to do. The Convocation is calling.”

I sat up immediately. “The entities want me now?” I panicked, feeling around my bed for my phone. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Calm down,” Scrimshaw said, holding up his hands. “They want you to assemble an hour before midnight. The cairn, on the peak of the hill. It’s only seven-thirty right now.”