by K. A. Linde
The visions showed episodes of importance. They showed what would happen but not why it mattered. But somehow, she just knew that this moment had significance.
“Kerrigan,” Lyam hissed through his teeth.
And then she saw exactly what she had been looking for. Not the protesters in her vision… but Clover.
12
The Arrest
Clover was being arrested by the Society Guard.
Kerrigan couldn’t fathom it. Clover, who was her closest friend outside the ranks of the establishment, who always saw Kerrigan exactly how she was, who had never seemed violent a day in her life. It was unfathomable.
“You can’t do anything,” Lyam said. “I know that look in your eye.”
“I can’t just let her go to jail,” she hissed low as the Guard continued toward their location.
The main holding facility for the city of Kinkadia was only a few blocks from here. That was likely where they were being taken. She could guess that they’d spend twenty-four hours there and then pay a fine. Clover didn’t have money. Everything she had belonged to Dozan. And Dozan didn’t bail out criminals. He was too motivated by greed for that.
If Clover went to jail and couldn’t pay her fine, they’d hold her in menial labor until she could. Who knew how long that would be? A week? Two weeks? A month?
Kerrigan couldn’t let it happen. It was dangerous and irresponsible and utterly foolish. She knew all of that, but still, she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
The jail time might actually kill her, considering her reliance on loch. The withdrawal alone was one of the biggest killers in Kinkadia.
“Do you at least have a plan?” Lyam groaned.
“Don’t get caught?”
“That’s not a plan. That’s a…”
But Kerrigan never heard him finish. She dragged her magic up to the surface. Way more than she usually utilized at once. Definitely more than she ever showed in the Wastes. Fire was her primary element, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone. So, instead, she let loose her earth magic, a low rumble through the stones in front of the prisoners.
The guards halted in place in confusion. There were only three of them for the entire lot of insurrectionists. Since they were all chained together in magic-dampening manacles, it wasn’t likely that any of them could possibly get away. Not without help.
Kerrigan increased the intensity of the pressure on the stones around them. Then, she broadened the span of the shakes to encompass more and more of the surrounding area.
She heard the call go up in a tremulous shout, “Earthquake!”
The valley of Kinkadia was prone to them. And even though this was a fake one, no one could really tell the difference unless they had the ability to sense magic. Which was incredibly rare. She was lucky that none of those guards could do it. Though… guards weren’t typically chosen for their magical aptitude. They had the Society to do that.
So, as everyone feared her fake earthquake, she sent a spear of wind straight to the manacle holding Clover’s hands together before her. The manacles opened with a decidedly satisfying clink.
Clover’s head popped up in shock. She looked left and right, assessing the situation and trying to determine how this had happened. But she was too smart to wait and find out. She dropped the manacles like a ton of bricks and darted through the next alley. A shout went up by the Guard, but Kerrigan’s magic was still rumbling through the stones. She could feel her magic draining away. It was too much. Definitely too much for her, but her anger fueled its continuation until she was sure that Clover had escaped their clutches.
“Kerrigan, enough,” Lyam said, grasping her arm.
And slowly, she released her magic, until the stones were silent and she could only feel the rumbling in her mind.
“I cannot believe you did that,” Lyam said.
“You can do anything you put your mind to. Don’t you know?” she asked with a half-tilt to her lips. It was something Mistress Moran always parroted to them, even when it felt ludicrous.
“Kerrigan, I… I have to tell you something.”
She shivered in the summer evening. She had forgotten in her anger that she had been avoiding being alone with Lyam.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
“I know.”
“You… know?”
“About your visions,” he whispered.
Kerrigan pulled back, alarmed. That was not what she had thought he was going to say. “What? How?”
“I was there a year ago when you confessed your vision to Helly. She told you they were dangerous. That if anyone else knew, if it got out, you’d be killed.”
Kerrigan went pale. “You’ve known all this time?”
He nodded. “I wanted to tell you.”
“Then, why didn’t you?”
“She said if anyone else knew, you could get killed,” he repeated. “I wanted to protect you, Ker!”
“Protect me?” she whispered. “That’s why you’ve been following me all this time?”
He nodded. “Tried to at least. I was worried about you. Worried that a vision would take you, that you’d be alone and vulnerable.”
Kerrigan shuddered. That had happened. It had happened the first time, five years prior. Her sight blurred as she remembered it all. That empty alleyway, the Fae males who had come out of nowhere, the vision that had dropped her to her knees, the first assault that had made her ears ring, and then waking up in Dozan’s room in the Wastes. Her entire body a bruise. Cuts and scrapes littering her body. He’d applied rudimentary healing skills to it, but he was just a human. Not yet the king of the Wastes. Just a boy, not quite sixteen. Her savior. Such a ludicrous suggestion, knowing him now.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly. Realizing suddenly that it was.
She had wanted so desperately to have someone to share this with. Someone other than Dozan Rook. And now… now, she did.
She opened her mouth to say more, to apologize for the last year of strangeness between them, but it never came. The spell on the back door lock… snapped.
“Scales,” she cried.
Then, she was running back toward the exit with Lyam on her heels. She couldn’t let anyone see that they’d left the party. She also couldn’t let anyone… a protester or worse, enter through the back and cause trouble. It was just now that she understood how reckless her behavior had been, coming out here. A part of her wanted to regret it, but she had saved Clover from the Society Guard. That was worth it at least.
When she and Lyam made it back around to the entrance, her feet slowed. She panted as she saw what had triggered the exit.
“Hadrian,” she said on a small laugh. “What are you doing here?”
Darby peeked her head out too. “We decided we couldn’t leave you two alone.”
Lyam chuckled. “We should all probably get back inside. The riot was put down. It looks like things should go back to normal now.”
Darby looked relieved. Hadrian held the door wider.
Kerrigan touched Darby’s hand and then Hadrian’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming after us regardless.”
Hadrian nodded. “Always.”
The party went on as promised. The Society members didn’t exactly explain what had happened with the riots. Just that things were under control and it was time to present the tournament competitors.
The adventure had dulled the humiliation of what had happened to her. But as soon as the party resumed, it all rose back to the surface.
She hadn’t been chosen. And no one was doing anything about it.
Of course, Helly had said that they would figure it out. Kerrigan knew what that meant. It meant she needed to come up with a plan and quick. Something that she could offer Helly so that she wasn’t shunted to the side and forgotten.
Not again. Never again.
It was bad enough that she should have been First of the House of Cruse of Bryonica. That her fath
er had abandoned her rather than legitimize a half-Fae royal. She could not be cast aside a second time. The last twelve years had been nothing but trying to prove herself and her worth to the Society. She would not let all of that go in vein.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she would have a proposal for Helly. She didn’t care that it was the first day of the dragon tournament. She knew she couldn’t put it off for more than a day.
Tonight though… she would sulk with a glass of the best wine and watch everyone that she had known and loved the last twelve years enter the civilization that she was no longer going to be a part of.
Kerrigan took another sip of her wine and settled into the corner of the room. She was hardly known for being a wallflower. But tonight was a celebration of the champions and the Dragon Blessed entering society. She was neither. No one was making bets on whether or not she would get a dragon. No one was trying to woo her to become an ally in the tournament. No one was heaping praises upon her for being a newly vested citizen. And the whole thing looked stupendously dull from the outside.
She just wanted to leave. It had been an hour of seclusion in the corner. Surely, that was enough time. She glanced to the balcony and all its seductions, planning her escape, when a throat cleared in front of her.
Kerrigan turned back to face the person with a blink of surprise. No one had spoken to her since the party began.
“Master Bastian?” she said, it coming out more like a question.
“Hello, Kerrigan,” he said with a slow smile.
Master Bastian had been a Society member for the better part of the last century. He was well-respected by his peers. Many thought that he was particularly brilliant. She had always admired his calm repose and his valiant fight for safer measures in the city and rural areas. He had been in a house fire, growing up, and a portion of his face had been devoured by the flames. A healer might have been able to save his appearance, but his rural village had been too far from the healing centers.
“How can I help you?” she asked carefully. She liked Bastian, but he’d never really taken much interest in her.
“I came to offer my condolences on what had happened earlier.”
Kerrigan’s face flushed a bright red. “Ah… yes. That was…”
“Unfortunate,” he said. “I am sorry for your troubles.”
Not enough to fix them.
Though she would never say that out loud. Bastian was being kind. No one else had been kind.
“Thank you, Master Bastian.” She demurely lowered her lashes. “I appreciate you coming to speak with me.”
“Please, let me know if there is anything that I can do.”
She nodded and suddenly wondered if there was something that he could do. Not here or right now. But later, when she put a plan together. Perhaps Bastian’s kindness could be beneficial. She would put him in her back pocket like a card in Dragons Up.
Bastian tipped his head at her and then disappeared back into the crowd.
Kerrigan had had enough of the party. She dropped her drink off on a nearby table and then stepped lightly onto the balcony. The summer heat had dipped uncharacteristically cold while still hanging on to every ounce of humidity. It wasn’t a good combination. But it did mean that the balcony was unattended. Or so she had thought.
Her feet stilled when she found Fordham Ollivier leaning his elbows against the railing and staring wistfully out into the city beyond.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He slowly turned his head and assessed. She suddenly felt on display as his gaze dragged up her body and then to her face. There was something in his gray eyes as he drank in her features. A half-smile twisted on his mouth.
“Hello, halfling.”
She glowered at the word. She should just leave him here to rot. And yet… and yet…
He looked so miserable. As miserable as she was. It didn’t make sense to feel kinship to this princeling. He was an arrogant bastard who likely tortured other people like her.
“Not having fun at your own party?” she asked.
“It’s not truly for me. It’s for the others.”
That was true. Also how she felt.
She leaned next to him. “Did you expect them to cheer you on?”
“No,” he said, fastidiously messing with the collar of his black-and-silver cloak. It was elegant and endearing. He looked like royalty, even with his hair all mussed from fussing with it. No one could ever see him as anything else. “And you? What are you doing out here? Making mischief? Here to follow me around like a gnat.”
“Are you always like this?”
“Like how?”
“An asshole?”
His eyes narrowed. “If you must know, yes. It’s my best quality.”
She snorted. “Great. And here I thought I’d escape your winning personality after all this was over.” She sighed and leaned heavily forward again. Letting her guard down in front of him was likely dangerous, but she had so little left to lose. “But it’s not over. No one picked me, and now, I might have to follow around your annoying ass forever.”
“Is that why you are out here?” he inquired. “Did you truly think that a half-Fae would fit with all of that?” He gestured to the grand party inside where all the wealthy Fae danced and drank and laughed.
He said it with venom, but she heard the truth of it. Would she ever fit? Had it all been a lie these last twelve years?
“Escape,” she whispered. She probably shouldn’t have, but the word had just slipped out. “I’m out here to escape.”
The inquisitive gleam of his gray eyes in the firelight was almost silver.
But she ignored that questioning look and headed toward the side stairs that led down into the garden below. There was a hidden exit through a rusted iron gate. Whoever had thought to put in iron was clearly insane. Not that iron hurt Fae. Not exactly. But it was anathema to them. Which was why that exit was rusted and never used. She was surprised that no one had ever commanded it all be replaced.
“Wait,” Fordham commanded.
Kerrigan sighed. “What? Are you going to tell me not to go? I thought you’d be pleased that this little half-breed was finally leaving the party.”
He arched an eyebrow, and then, untied the cloak at his neck. He slung it off his shoulders and held it out to her.
“What’s this?” she asked warily.
“It’s a cold night, and you’re in pink. This will conceal you.”
She stared at it harder. “What’s the catch, princeling?”
“Just take it,” he snarled.
And the command in his voice sent a different sort of shiver through her body. He was being nice to her. There had to be a reason for it, but she couldn’t see why he was doing it. He just…was.
She reached out with trembling fingers and took the cloak from him. She swept the fabric around her shoulders, letting the silkiest material she had ever encountered envelop her small figure. It was still warm from his body.
“Thank you,” she whispered, but he had already turned away as if he had never done one kind thing for her.
So she left swiftly down the stairs, through the iron gate, out of the garden, and into the deep, dark night beyond.
13
The Shadow
Lyam
Lyam shouldn’t have told Kerrigan.
He had known it as soon as it slipped past his mouth that he shouldn’t have said a damn word about Kerrigan’s visions to her. Even though she had seemed almost relieved, it had put another kink in their friendship. A friendship that he very much wanted to become more. And he knew that she very much did not want that. He had thought that he could reconcile himself with that. That they could just be friends, as they had always been. But he loved her. He loved her rebellious nature and her quick smile and her sharp wit. He hated how much he loved her. And how it’d ruined the best thing he’d ever had.
So, he had taken to protecting her, to following in her wake and making sure she got to wh
ere she was going. He’d thought he had been more circumspect, but clearly, he hadn’t.
And still, he couldn’t stop.
He watched her exit the ballroom onto the balcony, and he knew what she was up to. They had taken the iron gate out of the gardens one too many times in the past for him not to guess her path. Especially after what had happened with the ceremony and Clover. Kerrigan would need to leave. And he needed to follow her.
“Excuse me,” Lyam said brusquely, interrupting Kenris.
He startled.
Yes, Lyam was a full citizen now, a member of Zavala. But the person who had chosen him deserved more respect than him cutting into the conversation.
But Lyam couldn’t care. He was too worried for Kerrigan.
He stepped away from Kenris, sure that he would be in trouble for it later. For now though, he only had one motive.
He hastened out the balcony door and froze when he saw Kerrigan and Fordham standing together. Almost intimate.
Something panged in Lyam’s chest at the display. At the quirk of her chin and the faint smile on her lips. And then Fordham gave her his cloak, and to Lyam’s dismay… she took it. She took the cloak and fastened it around herself. Then, she was gone.
Lyam was stunned. Could Kerrigan want some trussed-up prince? It was absurd to consider.
He could just let her be. But he knew after the night she’d had that she was going to be reckless. He didn’t want her to get hurt, and if he could be some small level of protection, then he would be.
Lyam stepped out onto the balcony and into the dim lighting. Fordham didn’t turn to look at him. He was still facing out toward the city, oblivious to anyone sneaking up behind him. What was he even doing here? A prince of the House of Shadows with no explanation for why he was entering the tournament. It was suspicious, and he had charmed the committee into letting him enter. Well, he hadn’t charmed Lyam.