by Emma Hamm
“You have no right to comment on my looks.”
“Don’t I? I’m your husband.”
“Not yet,” she growled.
“There is no other for you.” He frowned, winged brows drawn down severely. “It’s a shame you can’t see that, but there will be time.”
She had no plans to remain here. The Raven King could follow her to the ends of the earth if he wished, but she would never stop running. He could capture her, but she would escape. He could chain her to a wall, but she would chew off her hands to run from this dark creature.
His laughter filled the air with dark promise. “I can see your thoughts clearly, changeling child. You should know the chase only excites me.”
“Good to know,” she replied. “I’m glad at least something about me will entertain you. Perhaps you’ll keep me longer than your previous consorts.”
“There were no others.” The heat of him pressed against her back, not quite touching but overwhelming all the same. “Each Raven King only gets one. One life, one kingdom, one bride.”
“This must be very frustrating for you.”
“Why’s that?” He touched her hair again.
“Because you’re going to be alone for a very long time.”
She spun on her heal with a palm raised, magic glimmering in her hand. The spell was simple, child’s play really, but it would work. Electricity barely contained itself before she lifted her palm and let it free.
The white light blasted across the water. Tiny waves marked its path until it struck a wall and fizzled out of existence.
“What?” she gasped.
His voice whispered in her ear again, “It’s not that easy to kill a king.”
Every fiber of her being hated him. She clenched her fists, muscles locked in place, and ground her teeth together so hard they ached. “I will never stop trying.”
“I would be disappointed if you did, my dear.”
Cold air replaced him. Aisling whirled, her gaze searching for him in the shadows until she found the warped form. Ravens shifted underneath his skin, one poking out a head from his neck and descending back down into the pale flesh.
He offered a hand for her to take. “You wished for the waters of Swan Lake?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip, debating. Taking his hand felt like a promise. If she did anything wrong, she might be stuck here for the rest of her life. She had no intention of remaining here for any longer than absolutely necessary.
“Come now, changeling. Do you really think I would try to trick you now? That would be too easy.”
Bravery surged in her veins, so she reached out and took his hand.
Claws closed around her hand, so long they touched the thin skin of her wrist. “That’s much better.”
She disagreed. His skin was almost leathery in texture. Feathers bit into her palm, digging into the eye tattoos and sinking into her like the barbs of a rose.
“You know where the waters are?”
“I know more than that. Now, while we’re walking, why don’t you tell me why you want them?”
“To break a binding curse.”
“Yes, you’ve said that already. Explain it to me.”
He pulled her out into the water, but this time she remained above it. Her feet touched the still surface that now reacted like the mirrored finish of polished stone.
“I could tell you the story, but I don’t think you would listen.”
“Tell it all to me. It’s a long enough journey.”
And so she did.
Aisling spared nothing from her tale, even the things which she knew would anger him. To his credit, he didn’t react. The Raven King nodded solemnly when she spoke of the dangers they had faced. He glanced at her with sad eyes when she spoke of the dead god and his strife. He twitched when she mentioned the death of the Duchess.
But he never stopped her from talking. Not once did he react more than a subtle shift in his demeanor. It would be impressive if she wasn’t so set on disliking him.
“You have had an incredible journey,” he said when she finished.
“Different than the way I’ve lived, I suppose. Magic has always been a part of my life. It feels as though I have been preparing to be here, in this moment, for as long as I have drawn breath.”
“Here with me?” He lifted a dark brow.
“Not quite.”
“Of course not. Presumptuous of me to even consider it. You have been preparing your whole life for…what? Him?”
She knew he meant Bran, and her ears burned in embarrassment. “No. To be in the Unseelie Court. It’s where I was always meant to be, isn’t it? My parents sent me away because I was one of you.”
“I’m not Unseelie, changeling. And neither are you.” He raised both their hands up to gesture at the waters around them. “This is Swan Lake, but if you’re going to use its waters for a spell, then you must take it from the heart.”
He pointed directly down where she could see the center of the lake.
A woman floated deep below them. Her long hair was white as snow, strands hanging in constant suspension. White swan feathers floated in the water around her, slowly spinning in circles. She held a vessel in her hand from which glowing blue water trickled out. Steam rose in twisting coils from the water directly above her, as if it were warm instead of cold.
“Who is she?”
“The heart of the lake.” He crouched, taking her with him until they both pressed their palms against the solid surface. “The very first Raven King’s consort.”
“What happened to her?”
“He was supposed to be eternal, the first and only. But another wished for his wife’s hand. They battled for centuries. The Wild Hunt was lost to the winds, destroying the human world and growing ever more powerful. Cernunnos himself had to step in. He slaughtered both the men and banished her here for all eternity.”
“Why was she punished?” Aisling stared down at her, horrified.
“She was too beautiful for any man to cast eyes upon. He feared she would continue to walk the earth, causing war after war until she finally died. But he couldn’t kill her, for her beauty turned even his heart.”
Aisling spread her fingers on the smooth surface of the lake. The reflection of her face melded with the pale woman’s until she couldn’t tell the difference between them.
She’d spent her life running from those who wanted to define her because of how she looked or what she could do. This woman had suffered the same fate and paid the ultimate sacrifice.
“You wanted the waters,” the Raven King murmured. “Go and take them.”
“How?”
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small glass vial. “All you have to do is jump.”
Aisling took it from him and turned it over in her hand before looking up to meet his gaze. “How?”
“That’s the easy part.”
He released her hand, and she fell into the water with a splash.
Aisling dunked under the surface. Cold water rushed into her mouth, filled her ears, and sent tendrils of ice through her body that stiffened her fingers and legs. Struggling back to the surface, she gasped in a breath of air.
Then she dove under the glassy surface and swam toward the floating woman. A sense of foreboding made her check around her, but the light from the heart of the lake was weak. Anything could be watching her in the depths of the waters.
Rushing now, she reached out and gently touched a hand to the woman’s cheek. Downy feathers, so pale they were almost transparent, covered the sides of her face. She looked as though she could be Aisling’s sister, and she wondered what that meant. Just how strange was this place? Did she see other people in every face that existed here? Or was there more to this?
The woman opened her eyes.
Aisling flinched back, bubbles escaping from her open mouth before she frantically shut it.
Their eyes met, and she suddenly knew this woman. It wasn’t a memory. It wasn’t even a f
eeling, but something deep inside her soul recognized this frozen body as her own.
The woman slowly reached out her hand with the small porcelain vessel from where the waters flowed weakly. The light was dim, growing dimmer by the second.
Was it dying? Was it possible for a lake to die?
She stretched forward and took the smallest amount of water that she could from the glimmering blue light. As if sensing another vessel was nearby, it spun toward the small vial in her hand. Funneling it in was easy. The water wanted to go with her, strangely enough.
Aisling carefully put the cap back on the vial. Her eyes lingered on the floating woman’s figure. A small part of her worried she would someday become this poor soul, forever damned simply for being a woman.
This was why she had kept herself hidden for so long. It was easier to hide under the guise of dirt and grime than be renowned for beauty.
She kicked her feet and shot toward the surface. Lungs burning, head whirling, she crested the surface with a loud gasp. Dark hair obscured her vision until a warm hand smoothed it back from her face.
The Raven King smiled down at her, his eyes appearing almost sad. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I did.” She lifted the vial for him to see.
He stared at it with obvious disdain before holding out a hand for her again. “Would you like to come out of the water now?”
“Yes.”
Aisling’s tone was oddly meek. Something about the sight of the floating woman had affected her. She didn’t feel like herself, but a fragile version that could be shattered by a mere touch.
His warm hand closed around her wrist, pulling her out of the water and back onto the glassy surface as if she weighed little more than a feather. He waved a hand in front of her. Warm air blasted, drying her clothes immediately.
“Thank you,” she murmured, confused at herself and the entire situation. “How do I get back into the castle?”
“I’m sure the queen will send one of her daughters for you.” He paused. “Actually, why don’t I bring you up myself?”
“You can do that?”
“I’m not imprisoned,” he said with a chuckle. “No one can cage the Raven King. Besides, I haven’t seen the Unseelie queen in a very long time.”
“I’m not sure you want to.”
“She is a rather startling sight, isn’t she? Her children are almost worse.”
Aisling shuddered at the memory. The Unseelie princesses would haunt her memories for a very long time. “I agree with you.”
The Raven King held out a hand for her to take, dark claws curving up like needles. “Shall we?”
She didn’t really want to. It was a strange sensation to want to stay in this frozen wasteland with a floating version of herself underneath their feet. But if she went back into the Unseelie castle, there was always the possibility of this all being over.
Bran didn’t seem interested in running off as soon as the binding curse was broken, yet there was always a chance he was twisting his words.
She wasn’t sure what would happen if he rejected her. He was the first person she had let in…ever.
Taking a deep breath, she reached out and took his hand. “To the castle we go then.”
“Hold on tight.”
He tugged her close to his chest. Ravens stretched through his form, wings beating against her back and beaks desperately trying to peck at her front. To his credit, the Raven King held her just far enough away that the creatures who made him couldn’t harm her.
They lifted into the air with ease. The swarm of wings took them far away from the frozen lake and straight up toward the small hole she had fallen through. Aisling’s breath caught in her throat, but she held her body limp. The last thing she needed was to plummet back into the icy waters.
The Raven King soared through the small opening and landed lightly on his feet. He set her down with an exaggerated gesture, snapping out his cape like a great wing and twirling her before letting go.
Aisling spun in a circle before she caught herself, angrily glaring at him and clutching the vial to her chest. “Was that really necessary?”
“A show is always necessary when entertaining the Unseelie Queen.”
An answering chuckle echoed from above them. The webbing bowed under the queen’s weight as she stepped over them. “Raven King. It’s been a very long time.”
“Not too long, I hope. I wouldn’t want you to forget my pretty face.”
“How could I? It’s been my personal goal to scratch your eyes out since the day I met you.”
The Raven King pressed a hand to his chest, narrowing his eyes at the leg that revealed itself through the gap over the throne. “I’m flattered you’ve been thinking of me for hundreds of years, my dear queen.”
“Precisely the reason why I’ve wanted to kill you since the day we met.” The queen lowered herself from the ceiling and rested on her throne with a sarcastic grin. “What do you want?”
He lifted his arm and pointed at Aisling. “She would like to perform a spell.”
“She or my son?”
“Both, it seems. They have the same end to their desires.”
The queen rolled her eyes. “Are you going to make a show of this?”
“Would you expect anything less?”
“Do I need to get my son?” The Unseelie queen extended her long nails in front of her, staring at them. “So far, your performance is underwhelming.”
“Oh, it’s only going to get better, darling. You should bring him down.”
“He’s with his father.”
The Raven King reached out and snagged Aisling’s arm, dragging her against his side. “He’ll want to see this.”
The queen narrowed her gaze on them. Aisling could see thoughts ticking behind her eyelids. She was trying to figure out what the Raven King was planning. The moment she figured it out, her eyes lit with excitement.
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Oh! You intriguing man. How unique.” She glanced up at the webs, her gaze softening. “Fine, my darling king, put our son down so I can see what’s going to happen.”
For a moment, Aisling thought she was talking about the Raven King. But his hold tightened on her, and the web ripped open in the center of the room. Bran was tossed down, though he landed in a crouch.
Flipping his hair back in a wave of movement, he glared at his mother. “Was that necessary?”
“Just keeping you on your toes.”
“You go too far, Mother.”
“No, I’m not going far enough.” She pointed at the Raven King. “I think you’d like to hear what he has to say.”
Bran’s gaze cut toward them. He stiffened immediately, then lunged to his feet and reached out to her. “Aisling, come here. Now.”
Before she could answer, the Raven King cut in. “She’s going to stay right here with me. I heard a little rumor you were trying to break a curse.”
A muscle jumped in Bran’s jaw. “You can’t stop me from doing that.”
“I can try.”
“It’s my choice.”
“No, it’s really not.” The Raven King chuckled. “You can’t change fate, my boy.”
Head spinning, Aisling shoved at the Raven King’s chest. “Would you all stop talking about something I clearly don’t know?”
“Aisling,” Bran growled, “stay out of this.”
“No! This isn’t about the binding curse, is it?”
“We promised we would come clean later. We need to finish this first.”
“I’m not sure I want to.” She clutched the vial to her chest, the blue light glowing through her fingers.
His eyes pled with her. “Don’t change your mind now, of all times. Give me the vial, I’ll break the curse, and all will be well.”
“What are they talking about Bran?”
The Raven King released her and strode between them, slowly clapping his hands. Mist swirled at his feet, and a raven stretched out of his shoulder, snapp
ing its beak at her. “So it is as I thought. You don’t know what he’s trying to do.”
“Stay out of this, Raven King,” Bran spat.
“I don’t think I will. You’re misleading this beautiful woman, and I would be remiss to allow you to continue.” He flipped his cape over one arm with a flourish. “Aisling, my dear. There is no way to break a binding curse.”
“Faeries can’t lie,” she whispered. “This will work.”
“The ingredients you have gathered, and I thank you for telling me the story in such detail, are not for a binding curse. You see”—he pointed at Bran—“he is my successor. Each Raven King has someone who will take their place once every thousand years. He has a chance to break the King’s curse, of course. An impossible task that can only be performed under great duress. Remarkable really, because no one has managed to do it before you.”
Bran lunged forward. Webs shot from the ceiling and pinned him to the floor. He strained to get up. “Aisling, don’t listen to him.”
She ignored him and lifted the vial in her hand. “Then what is this for?”
“That’s the best part, my dear. All the things you’ve struggled—risked your life—to gather will break the King’s curse. A few runes, a circle of magic, a faerie who has no idea what she is doing.” He lifted his hands and swayed from side to side as if waltzing. “The blood of a dead god placed inside a still beating heart, and make no mistake, the duchess’s heart is still beating. You pour the waters of Swan Lake inside, not to drown it, but to give it life. The cursed man drinks the elixir, and all of a sudden, he is free from a future ruling the Sluagh in Underhill.”
“What good does that do to break our binding curse?”
The Raven King tilted his head back and laughed. “Look at him, Aisling. Truly look at him. Why do you think he doesn’t look like his parents? All his siblings resemble spiders in some way, or did you think that it was magic? He’s not like them for a reason. He’s been selfishly leading you all around the country because he had no choice. Time was running out to break the King’s curse, and you had to go with him because you were bound to him.”