Stolen Warriors

by S. Dalambakis

  I place the iron tipped blade on his neck. “I’m sorry cousin,” I say as I move the blade over his neck. Warm blood hits my hand and face. I hang my head. The veil surrounding his head lifts, and a peek of the true Kellan comes through.

  “Thank you,” he gasps with his final breath.

  I stagger to my feet, taking in the scene around me. Obsidian and Stolas are both back in their human forms but covered in blood. Finley is off in the corner, breathing heavy. Blood covers the top of her dress, making the stones look like rubies instead of diamonds. There is a splatter of blood on her face, but otherwise she looks unharmed. I look back down at my cousin, regretting what I did, but there was no other way. I see a piece of tan paper sticking out of his pocket. I reach down grabbing it. It’s the map.

  “Is he dead?” A voice asks from the doorway. I look over and see the guard, who’s mate is locked in the dungeon.

  I look away before answering. “He is.”

  “Good.” I glance back at the fae. A look of determination on his face.

  “You said you saw a room in here with King Kellan’s brother in it,” Obsidian states. The fae nods. “Show me.”

  He walks over to last bookcase. “It was here, but I don’t know how to open it.”

  Obsidian walks over, pushing along the top and the sides. When that doesn’t work, he takes on Finley’s approach and starts tossing books off the shelves. That doesn’t work either. I look down at my cousin once more, before walking over to stand beside Obsidian. I feel it. The shadow magic. I gather some magic, pressing my hand against the edge of the shelf. It swings open. There, chained to the wall, is Cirro.

  Chapter 22

  Finley

  I watch in silence as Verkor opens the door to the hidden room. I saw him grab the piece of the map from King Kellan. I feel regret and shame. It’s my fault that it came to this. It’s my fault that Verkor had to kill his cousin. To get the treasure that you seek, you must show all that you are not weak. For you may take a life, but do it with strife, and save more than just your pride. I’m being selfish and hope that when this is done he can forgive me. I move, taking Verkor’s spot as he walks into the room. I suck in a breath when I see a fae that looks so much like Kellan, only haggard, chained to the wall. The fae looks up, blinking his eyes a few times. He has the same blonde hair as Kellan, only unkempt and dirty. I’m sure with his blue eyes were once filled with light, laughter, and love. But now, they are dull and almost lifeless.

  “Verkor? What are you doing here?” The fae’s voice is raspy with unuse. “You need to go before Kellan catches you here. How did you find me?” he coughs.

  I watch as Verkor uses his shadow magic to unlock the chains around Cirro’s wrist. The fae falls forward, but Verkor catches him. I take a couple of steps back, giving them room to get through the door. Obsidian closes the bookcase door behind them. Verkor helps Cirro over to the couch, looking over to the fae guards.

  “Someone go and get some food and water and a healer,” he orders. Multiple fae scatter at his command. He looks back to his cousin. “What the hell happened?”

  “At first, I couldn’t tell you. He seemed like his normal self.” Cirro stares intently at his brother’s body. “There was a gradual shift in his temperament. You know that Kellan could be ruthless, it’s part of our nature, but only when it was necessary. He started punishing fae for the simplest of crimes. Good luck if you didn’t listen to his commands. The punishment progressively got worse. All of Winter Court started to be afraid of him,” he sighs. “It wasn’t until I saw him giving blood to the shadows that I understood what was going on. I asked him why. He said he wanted just a taste of true power.” A fae in a white robe with a black bag in his hands, rushes into the room, pausing our conversation. Everyone stiffens, waiting for the fae to act.

  “He’s a healer. Relax everyone.” Verkor waves the fae forward. “Come check on your new king. Once you’re done can you take a look at me? I’ve been cut with an iron tipped blade.” The fae bows low.

  “O-of course.”

  I turn my attention to Cirro. “Isn’t being the King of the Winter Court powerful enough?” I scoff. Cirro glares at me.

  “You know nothing, human,” he spits out. “Why are you even here in the Winter Court, let alone the castle, in the king’s quarters?” he says angrily. Obsidian and Stolas growl at Cirro’s tone as they take a few steps closer to me.

  “I wouldn’t Cirro,” Verkor says. “Finley is our mate, and cousin or not, I will hurt you if you do anything to her.” Some of tension in me eases at his words. A part of me was afraid he’d hate me because of what he had to do, but I’m relieved to know that he doesn’t.

  “Who’s mate?” Cirro questions.

  “Mine, the hellhound’s and the hamrammr’s. So, choose your next step and words wisely,” Verkor replies.

  “Understood,” Cirro nods.

  “Good. Now, what did Kellan do when you confronted him?” Verkor asks, moving to the side so the healer fae can tend to his wound. I watch the fae carefully. He rubs some ointment then cream over the around, before placing a bandage on the wound. Verkor nods his thanks, and the fae rushes from the room.

  “He used shadow magic on me,” Cirro glances over at Verkor. “You know what happens to winter fae who try to use shadow magic. There are very few who can wield that magic naturally. You being one of them. He became corrupted with the power it gave him. Giving more and more of himself to it every time he used it. I saw the change when he would come in my prison. I’m surprised that he kept me alive.” The fae Verkor sent to get Cirro food and water returns at the moment, halting the conversation. He hands over the tray to Cirro, who takes it. “Thank you.” The fae nods, turns, and leaves the room. I imagine that he didn’t go far. Cirro is their new king, whether he realizes it yet or not.

  Cirro chugs the glass of water, before devouring the food. None of us say anything as he eats. I shoot a look over to Obsidian and Stolas. Neither look happy. Obsidian has a scowl on his face, with his arms crossed over his chest. Stolas’ arms are at his sides, but his fists are clenched. I wait until Cirro moves the tray over to the empty cushion next to him. I clear my throat, getting his attention.

  “How long were you kept in there?”

  “After a few days, I lost track of time.”

  “Tonight was the night of the Winter Court Ball,” I reply. Cirro’s gaze lands on each of us.

  “I see. Then it’s been about four months since I’ve been put in that room.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why? It’s not like you did it.” Cirro puts his attention back on Verkor. “Why are you here, cousin? You haven’t been home in years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re here. Otherwise, I might still be locked in that room.”

  “I came back for some closure about my mother. I did have an ulterior motive that was part of it.”

  “And the other part?” Verkor looks in my direction. I nod, because I know what he is silently asking.

  “We came here to get a piece of a map.”

  “What map?” Cirro asks. Verkor pulls the map from his pocket, showing it to Cirro. Cirro’s gaze flits between all of us. “I thought that was a myth? Why is it blank?”

  “It’s not,” I say. I reach down the front of my dress and pull out the first part of the map, showing it Cirro. “I saw markings on the map briefly, before they disappeared.”

  “Where did you get that? It that truly a piece of the map? It’s real?” he asks. Surprise is evident in his voice.

  “It’s real. I found this exactly where the poem said it would be.” I gesture to the piece in Verkor’s hand. “That piece is where the poem said it would be. Everything in the first two parts of the poem have come true. It’s not a myth. When I return home, I’ll get the next part of the poem.”

  “This shouldn’t be possible,” Cirro stammers.

  “It shouldn’t, but it is. I’m going to find all the pieces. I’m going to find the treasure,” I s
ay with conviction.

  “Yeah, but you won’t be doing it alone,” Stolas says. Obsidian nods and so does Verkor. I smile. I really do have the best mates.

  “Who killed my brother?” Cirro questions.

  “I did,” Verkor responds. “There was no saving him. He had the veil. The one that comes with giving up a part of your soul to the shadow magic. Even if he would have managed to come back from that, he would have been a shell of himself. There is no way I could let him live like that.” Cirro puts a hand on Verkor’s shoulder.

  “Then I thank you. You showed him a true mercy.”

  “What will you do now?” I inquire.

  “Well, it would seem I’m the new king.” There is a round of applause outside the door. He fake chuckles then sighs. “I guess I’m going to start with righting the wrongs of my brother.”

  “I know where you can start,” I reply, giving him a big smile. He nods his head.

  “Hold that thought. I’d like a warm shower first and good night's sleep first.”

  “Of course. We’ll leave you to it,” Verkor states. “Come guys, let the new king rest. We’ll see you in the morning.” Verkor places a hand on Cirro’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. All of us leave the room and make our way to our rooms. The urgency to leave no longer needed with the death of the old king.

  “Well, that was eventful,” I say once we get to our room. “Since, the new king seems to be okay with us, I call dibs on taking a shower first. Before that,” I walk over to Verkor. “Can I see the map?” He nods, getting the piece of map and handing it out to me. Tentatively, I take it, running my fingers over it. It’s here in my hands. I only have two more pieces to go.

  I reach in my dress, getting the other piece of the map. I walk over to the bench at the end of the bed. Flattening out both pieces of the map. I line up the edges. There is bluish white light that appears, and in its wake the map fuses together.

  “Um, guys, you have to see this.” All three of them crowd in behind me.

  “Did it just fix itself?” Stolas questions.

  “Yeah. I lined up the edges to get a clear picture of the map and it fused together.” The markings on the map flare, starting at one side, moving toward the other. Clouds, a gate, trees, caves, and a compass in the top right corner. The markings disappear just as fast as they showed up.

  “Holy shit. Was that what I think it was?” Stolas asks.

  I nod. “It was.”

  “If this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is,” Stolas whispers.

  I stare at the map a little longer before putting it away. One step closer to my goal.

  Chapter 23

  Finley

  We stayed a few extra days, just to make sure Cirro was going to be alright. He did start to right the wrongs of his brother. The first act he did was release the fae guard’s mate from the dungeon. He has a long road ahead of him, but he seems to taking his new role in stride. One of the things he said he was going to do was give everyone in the dungeons a retrial. For those fae who lost their lives, Cirro said he’s going to find some way to make it up to their families. I believe him. From what I’ve seen, he seems like he’s going to be a fair and just king.

  “Do you have everything?” Verkor asks.

  “I think so. I’ll take one more quick look around just to be sure.” I double check to make sure the map is packed away and I have all my knives and daggers. I’m still wearing the necklace Verkor gave me. I glance around the room, not seeing anything. “I think we’re good.” He nods and picks up my bag. We head out, meeting Obsidian and Stolas at the horses. King Cirro follows us out.

  “Well, cousin. It’s been an eventful return for you. Hopefully, next time you come it’ll be more pleasant,” Cirro states.

  “Hopefully. Though it might be a little bit before I return. A lot happened, and as you know, I learned the truth of what happened to my mother.” Cirro nods. They had a long talk the other night about what Verkor learned. It seems that Cirro was left in the dark about a lot of things since his chances of being king were limited. He has some ground to cover. “But, give me some time, and I’ll be back.”

  “You’re always welcome here.” He gives Verkor one of those bro hugs. You know the quick embrace followed by a few pats on the back. “Thank you, everyone. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Obsidian helps me on the back on my horse and ties my bag on the back. “As fun as this trip has been, I’m ready to go home,” I say.

  “Eager to start the next part of your journey I see,” Cirro responds.

  “Some yes, but mostly I’m over the cold and snow.” He chuckles.

  “I can see that, from someone who is not from here. But this is all I know.” I nod in understanding.

  “Even so, the King still deserves a vacation once in a while. You’ll have to come check out the magic realm. It’s a good time,” I say with an impish smile on my face.

  “Somehow, I get there is more to your meaning than you’re letting on.” He smiles and shakes his head. “But, once things settle down here, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  We’ve had several conversations of the last couple of days and I totally won him over.

  “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet your mate. Anything can happen.”

  “Maybe. You guys better get going if you want to make good time before nightfall,” Cirro states.

  The guys get on their horses, Verkor leading the way, me and Stolas are next, followed by Obsidian taking up the rear. I glance over my shoulder, giving Cirro my best princess wave. He laughs but waves in return. I face forward and smile.

  “What has you so happy?” Stolas asks.

  “We’re going home, and our mission was successful, even though there was tragedy.” He nods. “Speaking of home,” I say, raising my voice so Obsidian and Verkor could hear me. “How are we going to do this? I mean, am I just going to flit between everyone’s houses, or are we going to find one place for all of us?”

  “For now, let’s just go back to your place, Finley. We’ll figure out housing arrangements once we complete this journey. There’s no need in making plans now when we won’t be home long,” Verkor responds.

  I shrug my shoulders. “Works for me.” I stare at Verkor as he leads us through the forest. I wonder how he’s handling everything. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him since everything happened. I nudge my horse, picking up the pace, so I can ride next to Verkor. He looks over at me.

  “Are you alright?” he questions. I smile.

  “I was just going to ask you the same thing.” He looks forward again. He was silent for a moment before answering. “I’ve been trying to process everything, and it makes me wonder if Kellan told me the truth. There is no evidence to support what he said was true.”

  “There was nothing in her journal?”

  “No. It was filled with her thoughts, and there were a couple of days where she stated her feelings about what happened with my father. She blamed herself. The only thing that kept her going at the time was me. Then her thoughts jumbled. The writing didn’t make sense, giving some vitality to what Kellan said,” he sighs.

  “But the only people who know exactly what happened are dead,” I whisper.

  “Yeah. I may never know what happened to her, but at least I did get some closure while I was there.”

  “That’s good. You know I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

  “I know. Thank you, baby.” I smile, but it’s quickly replaced with a frown. “I hate to ask, but how do you feel about everything that transpired with Kellan?” Stolas and Obsidian move their horses closer to ours.

  “I’m still processing that. When we were in the middle of fighting, I realized that the poem wasn’t referencing that you would be the one to kill the king. It was me.” I nod.

  “I had the same thoughts after. I was hoping you were going to forgive me for that. I feel like it’s my fault that this happened.”

  “It’s not. The poem was always going to com
e true. We all assumed it was meant for you since your friend told you the poem, and you retrieved the first piece. And...” Verkor trails. I shift in my saddle.

  “And there’s a possibility I’m a descendant of the Supreme Ruler.” He nods.

  “Yes, but now we know we’re just as integrated into this legend as you. If I was meant to kill the King, then it’s safe to assume that Stolas and Obsidian will have a role in the future parts of the poem.” I was afraid of that.

  “At the very least, it’s something to plan for,” Obsidian interjects. “It’s better to be prepared.” I sigh. I know he’s right.

  “We’ll figure it out when the time comes,” Stolas says. I look over to him. There’s a softness in his eyes. “One thing at a time, love.” I nod.

  “One thing, at a time,” I whisper.

  We ride for a while in silence, but it’s not awkward. Luckily, the rest of our trip is uneventful, and before I know it, we’re standing in front of the gateway to take us back to the magic realm.

  “Ready?” Stolas says as he laces his fingers through mine. Verkor walks up to my other side, gripping my hand. Obsidian comes over, standing behind us, placing his hands on my shoulders.

  “Oh, hell yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go home and start the next part of this journey.” I squeeze both Verkor’s and Stolas’ hands, before letting go. I glance over my shoulder at Obsidian and smile. I move a few steps forward, turning to look at them. “By the way...” I take another step back toward the gateway. “After everything that went down, and with the possibility that we could die on this journey…” I take another step back. “I feel like I should tell you…” another step. “That I love all of you.” I smile. “Magic realm,” I whisper, taking the last step backward through the gateway, leaving them standing there with shocked expressions on their faces. Because somewhere along the way, I fell in love with all of them.