The Glass Scepter

by Bekah Harris

  “You’re quite bold for a mortal in a realm where you have no power,” he said.

  “I don’t have any power in my own realm, and I still act like this,” Jules said. “If I’m going to die, I should at least be able to die knowing that my life was used for some greater cause. What makes you more equipped to lead than the six rulers it takes to run the world now?”

  The Laltog king studied her, as if he didn’t quite know what to say. Jules tended to get that look a lot. But the intensity with which the creature’s glowing eyes burned into her made her nervous. Then, with a sneer, King Fhaescratch stepped away from the cell and disappeared into the shadows.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bear leaned back in the large chair behind his desk, closing his eyes.

  Where was Endellion? She should have been back from the Summer wedding hours ago. He should have just gone with her, as she had asked, but avoiding Ivy had been his top priority. Seeing her would only upset them both and cause him unnecessary trouble with Slaine, who needed her rest. She hadn’t been feeling well for a few days, and he worried the stress of his absence would only make things worse. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, but with his mother visiting another court, he couldn’t abandon his office until she returned. He looked back to the official scrolls of parchment he’d been studying. One request from the Spring Court to train the royal princess in the official dances of the Seelie Realm and another to welcome the Prince of Autumn for a week to be trained in Seelie Court customs.

  What a waste of time. Bear didn’t see the merit in clinging to archaic traditions when the Courts could barely get along with one another, but order and traditions were Endellion’s main priorities. Though Bear had grown to care for his mother, he understood why she was so despised by Fae in both realms. He had just signed his name to approve the princess’ visit when he was interrupted by a frantic pounding at the door.

  Startled, Bear rose from his chair, but before he had fully straightened his knees, a frantic Brownie burst through the door.

  “Bartley, what brings you here?” It was the head Brownie of Winter.

  “I beg your pardon, your Highness, but I bring terrible news! Terrible, urgent news from the Summer and Winter Courts.”

  “What is it?” Bear demanded, rushing toward him. He stooped down on one knee, grabbing the sealed letter the creature held out to him. Glancing briefly at the official seal of Winter, he broke the wax and unfolded the letter.

  Prince Barrett,

  The Winter Court begs your help in our most desperate time of need. In the event your mother the Queen has not returned by the time this letter reaches you, know that the banished darklings of Unseelie attacked Summer just after the wedding of King Damarion to my Changeling daughter Violet. Though many managed to escape, your mother among them as far as I know, others were not so fortunate. My faithful Brownie Madra transcribes this letter, as my own injuries, which could prove fatal, prevent me from writing in my own hand. The Laltogs have taken Ivy, the Thorn Princess and heir, captive, along with the chosen Unseelie Queen, Juliet McKinnon. In our most dire hour of need, Winter requests the aid of the Seelie Court in their recovery. Our intelligence tells us that Teagan is behind this attack and has been working to raise an army of the darklings to stand against the entire realm. Please do not abandon us. The very survival of Winter and the entire Seelie Realm hinges upon your aid.

  Humbly,

  Lyric, Queen of the Winter Court

  The letter was not written in Lyric’s hand, but it did bear her signature at the bottom.

  Ivy had been taken. Lyric lay dying. Teagan was raising an army as her sister carried the heir to the entire Seelie Realm.

  Had his mother been right all along? Was Slaine a part of all of this?

  Betrayal he wasn’t sure Slaine deserved rose like a raging fire inside his chest. Whether or not she had been complicit in this scheme didn’t matter at the moment. There wasn’t time for questions. Without responding to Bartley, Bear stormed across the floor, bursting through the side door that led to his private chambers. He hurried to the closet, grabbing the fighting leathers he had cast aside to claim his birthright.

  “But Your Highness, there’s more.” Bartley lingered in the doorway, holding out another letter, this one bearing the seal of the Unseelie Realm.

  The plea was written in King Padraic’s own hand.

  Simple and to the point, the dispatch was scrawled with only a single sentence and one extremely loaded question.

  The time to unite the realms is at hand. Where do your loyalties lie?

  Padraic, King of Unseelie

  Tossing the letter aside, Bear pushed past Bartley to enter his study. Grabbing a fresh scroll of parchment, he quickly scrawled orders to raise the Seelie Guard and order all courts of the Seelie Realm to stand by to prepare for action. A war was coming, darker and more powerful than Faerie had ever seen. Bear would make damn sure the courts of his realm would come out on top.

  But first, he had to get to Ivy. He didn’t care that Ardan was wed to her. He didn’t care that Slaine slept two doors down the hall and might have been involved in the entire scheme to overthrow the realm. All he could think of was Ivy, cold and hungry, a prisoner to King Fhaescratch, whose thirst for royal blood and vengeance against Queen Endellion was far stronger than his reason or Ivy’s ability to negotiate peace. His heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline causing his hand to shake. Folding the parchment, he stamped the hot wax with his personal seal and sent Bartley to find Saoirse, the cunning head of the Seelie Royal Guard.

  As Bartley scurried from the room, Bear buckled on his weapons belt and grabbed his crossbow from its spot on the wall. He was loading his quiver with arrows dipped in silver when his mother rushed into the room.

  “You made it back,” he said with relief.

  He welcomed her into the circle of his arms as she rushed to embrace him.

  “We hid in the fallout shelter beneath the Summer Castle until it was safe,” Endellion said. “Poor Damarion and Violet. What a way to begin their lives together.”

  Stepping back from Bear, Endellion scanned him, taking in the weapons and fighting leathers.

  “Where do you think you are going?” she snapped.

  Without sparing her a glance, Bear grabbed Lyric’s letter from the desk and handed it to her. As Endellion read, Bear explained that he had already summoned the Seelie guards and called for the courts to remain on standby, awaiting orders.

  “You had no right,” Endellion said. “If King Fhaescratch has kidnapped Ivy and attempted to murder Lyric, that is a Winter Court problem. Not ours. This is not an issue worth the risk of the entire Seelie Realm.”

  “Yet they attacked Summer!” Bear raised his voice with such venom that Endellion shrunk back. “Teagan is behind this. She was caught only days ago here in the Seelie Castle, attempting to win Slaine to her side. You know this is not merely a Winter problem, yet you are choosing to hide behind your title, high in your Seelie tower. But who cares if the rest of the realm suffers as long as your kingdom is safe?”

  “Barrett! How dare you accuse me of such malice!”

  “You are the reason for this entire problem!” Bear roared. “You set this in motion the moment you banished the darklings from Seelie out of fear and snobbery. You made it worse the day you turned your head all those years ago as your own husband defiled your maid! You created Alena, you turned a blind eye to her pain as your own husband’s seed grew in her belly, and then you used her for your own gain when you sent me with her to Winter. Now you need to own up to your own responsibility in what her daughters have become. You owe it to your entire Realm. Destroy once and for all what you created.”

  “I will not risk my kingdom. I will not risk my son!”

  “Do as you will, then,” Bear said. “Stop the orders. Let your entire Realm fall to ruin. But I will not stand by and do nothing. I will not watch the Court of my childhood suffer, and I will not abandon the Queen I served as a guard b
ecause my own mother is a spineless coward. Whether you are with me or not, I go.”

  Without waiting for her reply, Bear turned his back on Endellion and stormed toward the portals. Just as he reached the stones, their powerful magic calling out to him, he paused. If he risked his life for Ivy and didn’t make it back, what would become of his son or daughter, who was still a stranger to the violence of this world? Endellion would fight for him, but would she win? Or would Slaine raise their child to be as malicious and cunning as she and Teagan? His head was telling him to stay. It was the easy thing. It carried far less risk. But that would make him no better than Endellion. What kind of a father would he be if he allowed his friends to die when he could save them? What kind of a King would he be if he allowed the rest of the realm to suffer while he thrived?

  No. There was no other choice for him.

  Ivy and Jules had risked their lives to save him from Alena, even when Lyric had forbidden it. Bear wouldn’t abandon them to the Laltogs. He wouldn’t condemn them to a short life of suffering as King Fhaescratch slowly drained them of blood and hope.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Between the Unseelie tactical team and the Winter extraction forces, Padraic and Ardan would have roughly two dozen guards accompanying them to the Unseelie caverns. His stomach was raw with nerves, his chest sore from his constricted breaths. Before he had even had a chance to know her, really and truly know her, Jules had been stolen from him. Though he felt like a traitor to Ardan for even thinking it, he was happy Ivy was with her—to have a friend in the darkness. He only hoped the Laltog king was holding them hostage, that they could get to both of them before the blood-suckers drained them and left them to die.

  “Are you ready?” Ardan asked him.

  Padraic nodded, clenching his jaw. He didn’t trust himself to respond.

  “I know how you feel, brother,” Ardan said. “I find that imaging all I have planned for King Fhaescratch keeps my mind off less pleasant thoughts.”

  “Agreed.” Padraic had only taken a couple of steps when he felt the energy ripple in the air behind him. “Someone just passed through the portals.”

  He and Ardan both turned, crossing the hall to the portal room just in time to see Prince Barrett, fully armed and dressed in battle gear, step from the Seelie Stone.

  “You received my message,” Padraic said.

  “And Lyric’s,” Bear said. He looked from Padraic to Ardan, then, and dipped his head. “Ardan.”

  “Barrett,” his brother responded. “Thank you for coming.”

  Their polite tolerance was forced, but it was a beginning, Padraic supposed.

  “Have you seen Queen Endellion? Did she make it back safely from Summer?”

  Padraic’s stomach plummeted when Bear’s eyes narrowed.

  “She did,” Barrett said. “I am afraid, however, that she is not as invested in helping you as I am.”

  “And Slaine?” Ardan asked.

  “Under heavy guard at the Seelie Palace,” he admitted. “I can’t trust her, but I can’t let any harm come to my child.”

  Padraic sighed. “Well, we are happy to have your help, at least. I have two teams ready to extract Ivy and Juliet.”

  “Lead the way,” Barrett said.

  Padraic nodded, leading him across the room, where the guards waited for orders. Padraic stepped up to the wall and pressed the third stone into the wall, which prompted the opening of a secret door he had often used to sneak about the castle as a child.

  “Once we reach the mines, we will split up. There are two chambers, and we can’t be certain which one the princess and Juliet are in. Teagan is smart, pragmatic, and lethal. Expect every kind of darkness you can imagine: Brags, Laltogs, Hollows, and even Leprechauns. Kill anything that comes near you, and don’t look any of them in the eye.”

  The guards dipped their heads in acknowledgment and filed into the dark corridor one at a time.

  In the passages, the only sounds were their feet scraping against rock and the occasional dripping of water. The air was cold and damp, which made the air heavy with a moldy odor. The passageway grew more and more narrow the deeper they went, and for several unpleasant moments, Padraic felt as if the entire world was caving in on him. It took several deep breaths and a singular focus on Juliet to overcome the sudden paranoia. He followed the light from a single torch ahead, nearly stumbling into one of the Winter guards who stopped suddenly in front of him.

  “King Padraic,” a voice whispered from several yards ahead. “We’ve found something you need to see.”

  Padraic nodded, clearing his throat as a sudden feeling of dread rose with the guard’s leery tone. The soldiers parted to either side of the passageway, allowing Padraic, Ardan, and Bear to squeeze through. The Winter Guard, Orin, held the torch low to the ground to reveal the body.

  Padraic immediately recognized his father. “Odhran,” he whispered to Ardan.

  His brother stepped closer, craning his neck for a better view.

  Their father was sprawled out, glassy dark eyes still open as if caught by surprise. His green Unseelie skin had paled into a sickly shade the color of seafoam, his lips purple. The main artery of his throat bore a single puncture—not the work of a Laltog. When they turned him, a large puncuture wound on his back revealed the death blow. A Fae had done this. One who needed royal blood to use as a bribe to the Unseelie Darklings. It was Teagan. It had to be. She had used Odrhan’s loyalty to pay the ferryman his bribe.

  His stupid, trusting father.

  Shaking his head, Padraic wasn’t sure how to react. Should he feel sad? Angry? Really, all he felt at the moment was a profound lack of surprise.

  “Even from his exile, he plotted against us,” Ardan said. “Teagan probably turned him just as easily as her mother did.”

  “Sadly, I can’t disagree,” Padraic said. “I should have just executed him in the first place. That would have been far less painful than this.” He stared down at the blood that soaked his shirt. “Stabbed in the back and then drained of his blood.”

  “Yet you can’t deny the poetry of it,” Ardan said.

  Padraic ignored Ardan’s comment, though his brother had every reason to hate their father.

  “Shall we take him back to the castle?” Orin asked. “Even a fallen king shouldn’t be left to lie in these dark caverns.”

  “He has a point,” Barrett whispered. “I know how you feel about him, but we shouldn’t leave him here.”

  “Let him rot on the path he chose,” Ardan said. “Ivy and Juliet are our top priority.”

  “I agree with my brother,” Padraic said. It pained him to admit it, but Odhran had chosen his path long ago, and it was a selfish one. “We retrieve Ivy and Juliet first. We can drag Odhran back for his burial once they are safe.”

  Padraic took the torch from Orin and began the descent toward the mines.

  The deeper they traveled, the heavier the air became. They’d been walking for miles and still hadn’t reached the deepest parts of the mine. A stream was gurgling somewhere in the distance, and water, probably trickling down the cave walls, plinked into puddles hidden by the darkness.

  A low growl broke through their quiet footfalls, stopping Padraic in mid-step.

  Ahead, at least a dozen bright red eyes interrupted the darkness.

  “Brags,” Padraic whispered. “Whatever you do, don’t meet their gaze.”

  Padraic drew a dagger from his weapons belt and gathered dark magic in his chest. A single deep breath later, he charged forward, launching dark ribbons of Unseelie magic toward the Brags, tightening around them before ripping them to pieces. The creatures hissed and screamed with pain and anguish, but Padraic continued pushing forward, even as he heard members of his own guard falling behind him.

  “Don’t look at them!” he screamed again.

  Metal clanged against metal and guttural hisses and shrieks burned in his ears. They were outnumbered in a location they didn’t know, which wasn’t good.


  “Keep fighting!” Padraic shouted. “Close your eyes if you have to!”

  Feeling sharp claws bite into the flesh of his arm, Padraic lurched forward, stabbing blindly with his knife until the Brag that attacked him loosened his hold and dropped like a stone to the rocky ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  In the light of Jules’ moonstone, Ivy examined Jules’ wrist. The flesh surrounding the single puncture wound was a putrid gray, and Jules shuddered with fever. How long had they been in their cell? An hour? Three? Ivy couldn’t be certain. But what she did know was that, as she and Jules clung to each other in the darkness, Jules had become increasingly warm, and the musty scent of the cave had given way to the pungent odor of decay. Now, Jules burned with fever.

  “I’m going to fix this,” Ivy said. “Hold still.”

  Jules tried to jerk her arm away, but Ivy held firm.

  “Ow! Dammit, Ivy!” Jules hissed in a breath through her teeth.

  “Hold still, and it won’t hurt!”

  “I told you before, I want you to save your strength,” Jules argued. “If no one else is coming for us, your magic is the only chance we have of getting out of here alive. I won’t have you wasting your energy on me. You’re tired enough as it is.”

  Ivy exhaled in a loud huff. Jules was so stubborn. “If I don’t heal this wound, your fever will get worse, and your entire body could go septic. Then, you really won’t get out of here alive. Think of Padraic. He’ll never forgive me if I let you die.”

  Ivy would never forgive herself. Closing her eyes, she gathered her magic, as Jules continued to blather on about her humanity and general worthlessness. Once she felt the tingling in her palms, she closed her had over Jules’ wound.

  Jules’ complaints transformed to a loud, blood-curdling scream. Ivy cringed against the sound but continued throwing her magic at the wound. Finally, the stench wafting up from the wound cleared, and Jules finally smelled like herself again. She opened her eyes to admire her handiwork. The wound had sealed into a pink scar. Relief washed through her.