by Sage, May
“None of your bullshit excuses your behavior, Rook.”
“As I said, I’m not making excuses. Just telling you who I am.”
He stopped now. They were close to a solitary building in the gardens, away from the castle.
“What’s that, your dungeons?”
He rolled his eyes. “Hardly. This tower powers the walls around the city, the Isle, as well as most of the technology around Corantius, I understand. I’m going to blow up the top.”
She stepped forward, opening her mouth to protest, when she found herself incapable of saying a word or moving a finger.
“Don’t bother. I don’t have time to explain myself, or hear you enumerate every little protest I’ve already fetched from your pretty skull. The walls come down tonight. To give me time to do that, I’m going to have to ask you to distract the guards.”
Her eyes widened in shock as her limbs started to move toward the building against her will. He was really doing it: forcing her to aid him in his madness.
“They’re very strong. Do whatever you need to do to stay alive, Rivers.”
On that note, he unfurled his wings and took off into the air. Leaving her to grasp her sword and catch the attention of twelve scions.
No, not scions.
These things felt bigger, stronger.
Dammit.
If she got out of this alive, she really was going to kill Rook.
Twenty-Five
Tales in the Tower
Rook laughed at the volley of mental insults that followed him as he reached a window on the last floor of the tower. He definitely was going to pay for this trick later, but how could he resist?
All afternoon, he'd attempted to find ways to keep the Enlightened guards distracted long enough to allow him to do what he had to do, and then boom, she'd appeared. One of the handful of people in the Isle who could survive them.
He blasted the window into pieces and snuck through the opening. Inside, the dark room was filled with large, heated boxes stacked one atop each other, bright and beeping in a rhythm that was going to give him a headache soon.
He knew little about technology. His upbringing hadn't exactly been full of expensive toys for him to experiment with, and he'd never developed the taste later. He was going to have to improvise.
For a moment, he wished Kira were right here, next to him. He could certainly use her fire magic. Then he remembered that if she were present, she would have been trying to stop him, just like her twin.
Rook winced. She was also going to kick his derriere for what he'd done to Devi.
One problem at the time.
Iapetus was right; he didn't actually want to destroy all tech if he could help it, which meant that he had to try to only affect this floor. Simply unplugging the devices from their sockets wouldn't do the trick—presumably, they could simply replug it to fix it later.
He followed the dozens of entangled cords to their source. There was a round energy sphere against a wall—the generator. Frowning, Rook looked around, trying to understand how it worked, what else it might power.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Rook smiled as he turned his head toward the window, impressed.
"You managed to take out all the guards?" he asked Devi.
"No, idiot. I told them what you were up to."
"And they listened?" Now, that was surprising.
"After I froze their feet. They didn't have much choice. I give you two minutes before they get out of the trap, then they'll be here to kick your ass. Rook, please. You have to see reason. Your quest to open the wall is madness. Shea told me there's billions of orcs—billions. Even if they didn't mean to destroy us, their numbers alone would put an end to our world as we know it."
"Would that be such a tragedy?"
She stomped her foot in frustration, only serving to amuse him further. "You have got to stop with the self pity! You have everything at your fingertips. More power than almost everyone here, a title as noble as titles can get, as much money as you want. Come with me to the throne room. You might be overking. And if you aren't, if Vale is chosen, he'll leave you in peace."
At that, Rook laughed. "You're incredibly naive."
"He will. Because I will make him. I'll beg and plead until he gives you a chance, if you show me you deserve one."
And she meant it. Even if he hadn't been listening to her mind, he would have been able to tell. Devi was such an open book.
"The Isle is dying. Every year, our resources go down. The elemental mages have to beg the earth for every crop. The wars that have plagued this continent for thousands of years have destroyed it to the core. You're young. You've never seen the flowers bloom at midnight or tasted fresh apples picked a few thousand years back. Now, everything is tainted. Old. The lords of Corantius are behind me because they've seen it, and they know that our solution lies beyond our wall. We need trade from the other lands. We need the orcs as much as they need us. They can bring fresh soil, grain. Before we end up a dead continent, like two of the ones in this world already."
"What makes you think that anything is better beyond our borders?"
"What makes you think that closing our doors to change is such a terrible thing? Someone needs to act. I am opening the doors because I want to see my family. I'm not pretending that it's a selfless act—it's just about me. But there are actual reasons why this needs to happen. Ostracizing ourselves is madness."
"Blowing our walls down is madness," she countered. "Not until we have some answers about what's beyond them."
"We have them! Didn't your dear queen tell you about Álfheimr?"
Devi paused. She knew that name, he could tell. "The third continent with fae, right?" she asked when she'd caught up.
"And elves. And men. And orcs. And scions. All living in harmony. They're led by a line of scions powerful enough to keep everyone in line, just like us. They brought their walls down centuries ago. And for hundreds of years, they sent messages of friendship to the leaders of this world, including Shea. Who ignored them."
"Maybe because those powerful scions, the ones strong enough to keep everyone in line, might have meant to conquer us," she shot back.
Rook shook his head. "Paranoia aside, you're missing the point. Their walls are down. They're just fine."
Both of them turned left, hearing footsteps rushing up the stairs.
"We're out of time," Rook said.
He reached out his hand, touching the edge of the round power source, and pushed a blast of energy through it, like he'd done when he destroyed the window. When nothing happened, he made it stronger, and stronger again.
"Rook, please stop this, all right? If what you say is true, we can talk. Find a way to reasonably fix our problems here."
The door opened, and the Enlightened walked in, lances pointed toward him.
No time.
He increased the amount of power, extending both hands, and finally, the sphere cracked.
Instantly, the twelve guards fell to the ground, like puppets without strings.
They hadn't been Enlightened at all. Just…devices, now powered down.
At first, nothing happened, then he felt it. An excess of power brewing beneath his feet. The ground began to shake.
Devi was at his side, pulling his arm. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
For the first time today, he thoroughly agreed with her.
They both started to run to the window, and jumped.
Too late.
The tower was imploding, large rocks the size of four horses blasting in every direction with the power of cannons.
Rook followed one specific one, his mind anticipating its trajectory. It was heading toward the castle. Worse yet…to his apartments in the west wing.
As the blast pushed him backward, Rook concentrated one hundred percent of his strength on one single thing: shouting.
Mentally yelling as loud as he could, begging Kira to hear him. He saw her rush to the b
alcony, and gasp in fear as she saw the huge stone heading right to her.
It hit him then. The spells. She couldn't get out.
Rook didn't think he'd ever performed magic with as much speed, distress, and fear, unsealing all of his hexes and blocks. He barely noticed the pain when his body crash-landed on the ground, too desperate to care that his ribs, arms, and legs hurt like hell.
There, done.
Get out now!
She jumped right out, not questioning his order for the very first time since they met.
Rook might have laughed, if what was left of the tower hadn't exploded in a second detonation made of fire so powerful it engulfed all of the gardens and half of the castle.
And him.
High in the air, Devi watched in horror. Half a mile had been blasted into oblivion, now blackened ruins. Through the thick dust, she couldn't see a thing. She needn't have stayed to know Rook couldn't survive that. With all her elemental powers, she wouldn't have made it alone. If he'd flown out, maybe. He was faster than she when flying. But he hadn't even bothered to try.
Devi looked up to the creature holding her by the shoulders, his sharp talons digging into her flesh. She wasn't going to complain.
The phoenix certainly had timing. She wondered if he'd just seen her from a distance or if he'd stayed close ever since she'd let him out of his cage in Staren.
He carried her through the air a lot faster than she was capable of, leading her out of danger.
"I need to go back now," she told him. "Please."
Her voice sounded broken to her own ears. So was her heart.
The death of the monster she'd met in Low Crest Bridge would have been one thing, but today, she'd had her Rook back. Too stubborn, too opinionated, nonetheless it had been Rook. A protector attempting to do what he considered his duty.
Just like she had to do hers.
The phoenix dropped her off on top of an intact roof, and she snuck in through an open window, twitching her hood around her head again, as she tried to find her way to the throne room.
Twenty-Six
Blood
Something felt wrong. Too easy. The guards and fae he passed were watchful, all seeming to notice him and yet, he wasn't stopped once. Not in the long underground corridors, the kitchen, and not on his way up from the servants’ quarters to the vast, bright, Spartan halls.
He didn't know his way through this castle—one visit hadn't made the humongous stronghold familiar. Thankfully, with the aid of Telenar's device, he found his way to two large blue doors.
The stonelike tracker in his hand, warm and bright as a light, was telling.
Vale stilled in front of the door, hesitant. He'd never spoken to his brother. Not really. Aurelius had been at a few dinners during his one visit to the immortal city, where he'd thoroughly ignored him, and Vale wasn't one to beg for attention. Now, he had to speak to him, convince him to listen to reason.
Or kill him. Preferably not kill him.
He knocked.
Every door was warded against mental intrusion here, with spells and seals, so he was surprised when the door was opened by a beautiful brunette holding a child in her arms.
"Yes?"
Vale's eyes remained on the child. He had crystal-blue eyes and the woman's dark hair, but his frown and nose were familiar. Not unlike his own.
"Excuse me, I am…"
"Going to step away from my child now. Unless you wish to find out who among us should have been called the dark prince. Brother."
Vale turned on his heel to find Aurelius behind him, his eyes cold, holding a sword in each hand.
"Aurelius." Vale lifted his hands in gesture of peace and took a cautious step to the left, away from the female and child. "You look well."
"What are you doing here, Valerius?"
"You mean, what am I doing alive?"
Aurelius didn't lower his guard, frowning. "Do I detect an accusation?"
With his free hand, his brother beckoned the female close. She remained at the door, ignoring him.
"Well, Corantian soldiers have done their best to remedy that, so I inferred you might have something to do with it. You're one of the few who could command them."
"I have never in my life cared whether you lived or died. Until now. Step away from my son or I will save those soldiers the trouble."
"Oh, for the sake of everything holy in the universe!" The female swore, stepping between the two brothers. She glared at Aurelius. "He's my son too, if you recall. And his uncle can greet him if he wants to." She turned back to Valerius and attempted a bright smile, no doubt in defiance to Aurelius more than as a kindness to him. Regardless, it produced a clear change in his brother's stance, from aggressive to protective, and now that she was close, Vale used it.
He bowed low in greeting, before leaning forward, and smiling down at the child. "I see more of you than my brother in his smile. A blessing, truly."
The female laughed, offering her hand. "Lyn Reyland," she introduced herself. "And your nephew is called Syd. Sydiven." She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't given much say in the matter. Come. Would you like some wine?"
"Lyn, Valerius could be here to hurt you, and our child."
"Sure. He looks like a baby-killer." She rolled her eyes. "If you want to enter my quarters, Aurelius, you'll sheathe your sword."
Devi's ice was warmer than the atmosphere between his brother and his nephew's mother. Vale stepped into the apartment, was invited to sit, and presented tea.
"Would you like to hold Syd, Valerius?"
"I don't think—"
"Sit down, Aurelius."
"I'm not quite used to children," Vale admitted. "But I'll try. I believe I should hold the head. Anything else?"
"That's about it. There."
The child smiled and wriggled when she transferred him to his arms. Vale couldn't help smiling back. He hadn't lied; in his long life, he might have carried a child in his arms perhaps a handful of times at most, and often reluctantly. They were fragile, bothersome, thoughtless things, not of use yet. Despite that, this one felt different. Not just because he looked a little like him. The boy also felt like him, too. Like kin, a part of his clan. It made him want to say, no one's ever going to hurt you, little one.
"He's perfect, Lyn. Aurelius."
His brother's glare only grew in hostility now that he held his child. Vale wondered how many times Aurelius had held Syd. His relationship with the woman who'd given him the boy was obviously strained, at the very least.
All of her overtures of friendship to him were just slights aimed at his brother. Knowing that, he got up and went to hand the child to its father while Lyn prepared tea.
"I'm not here to hurt him, or you. I'm here because the continent is at war and will remain at war until the throne here is occupied."
"I am not interested in the throne. I would remove myself from the line of succession entirely."
"If you could, but that's not your decision. Unfortunately. It's my understanding that the throne is to choose a successor only when all of us are standing before it."
"And you'll have me—and my child—go so you may claim it. Very well. Pray, tell, how do you propose we convince our elder brother to follow suit?"
He seemed almost amused at the thought of anyone convincing Rook to do anything.
"Ah, well. Thankfully, that's not my job."
Lyn served them tea—Valerius first, before placing Aurelius's next to him, on a small round table.
She'd only just taken her own seat when the ground started to shake—then there was an explosion, so harsh and powerful Vale was on his feet, building shields before he had time to think of it.
Aurelius, with Syd in his arms, didn't try to use magic that could harm the child.
Valerius enveloped all three of his relatives under his wards before the violent blast hit them.
Twenty-Seven
Sands
Shea was the only one to remain undisturbed when the wards fel
l. Elderdale was only a few miles off the shore, and the echo of the destruction made the entire city vibrate. She was prepared for it. She was also prepared for Jibriel rushing through the room, informing them, "Ships! Ships coming from beyond the wall through the sea."
"Yes, indeed. Have the defenses been prepared to the southeast as ordered?"
"Yes. But they won't hold. Not for long."
Shea smiled. "Long enough. I need you—every single one of you—to fight tonight with the sole goal of surviving till morning. This ends when the light shines again."
She grabbed the sword at her side, the sword Orin had given her almost a thousand years ago, and got to her feet.
This night had been a long time coming.
The orcs took hours to reach the shores as Shea awaited them ahead of the army, seelie and unseelie alike.
The first to come to shore were different from what she'd imagined. Less bestial. Occasionally, a few orcs made it through the wards, and they were always grotesque, pungent, malformed creatures. This time, the one before her was handsome, though his skin was light blue and his eyes filled with nothing but white. Shea would have been hard-pressed to remember any man as well formed. He wore tight leather over his thick thighs and a white silk shirt that did little to hide his musculature. Except his teeth were filed to sharp fangs and he grinned as he watched her, as though he savored the thought of eating her.
The orc led hundreds similar to him. Shea waited until they reached the beach, their feet firmly planted on the ground. They screamed, rushing forward, weapons at the ready. The moment they were all debarked, she lifted her hand and the ground beneath their feet collapsed, swallowing them like quicksand.