Madness

by Rebecca Grey

  They exchanged a small look, but peeled themselves away from the door frame. One walked in front of me, assumingly leading the way, the other trailing behind us. Was this the way I was to be watched or was this a gift of protection? I thought I could handle whatever was thrown my way.

  I followed him down a dark stairwell, watching the back of his maroon helmet, the long red feather drifting in the momentum of the wind the guard created. The dungeons, I expected. My presumption was correct as the sounds of hissing and moaning met my ears.

  An angry scream rang out in the darkness, the glow of torches lit with fae firelight waited at the end of the hall. We turned the corner and entered their radiance. The light revealed large, barred cells surrounding an open space in the middle. Cells circled what I assumed was the main torture arena. An easy way to terrify those who waited. Let it build up the suspense as they watched others flinch in pain. It was smart, really.

  A weeping groan hit my senses like a galloping horse crashing to a stop. Leaning away from the table, Red’s face was twisted in pain. Though I imagine it hurt to press her back against the chair as she tried to pull herself free.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ll sit with this for one minute,” the fae said. He twisted the knob of an instrument that held Red’s finger, lowering a corkscrew until it pierced her flesh clean through. She yelped, her face drained of all color.

  It was a tactic I had used before, though I often liked using a hammer, and I didn’t go clear through their fingers like he had. It made it more of a game when it was a race to see if I could crush their bones before they pulled away. This didn’t look nearly as fun. Specifically, because my hands itched to undo Red’s bindings.

  “How’s it going?” I tried to sound uninterested.

  “Ah, come to check on your nymph. Well, she’s doing great,” he laughed. “Got a good tongue lashing from her this morning as I pulled her out of her cell. Girl has spunk. I'll give her that. But she’ll break before long. She’s scared. I can smell it.”

  “I’m actually,” he pulled the corkscrew from her finger and ripped her hand from the device, talking over her scream. “All done with her, now. I’m getting ready to toss her back into her pit.”

  “Well in that case, just leave her there. Thought I may be able to get a few hours of my own fun in.”

  “A man after my own heart. You like torture?” he cooed, throwing his tool back on its mount on the wall, still bloody.

  “Oh, I love it. My favorite pastime, actually.” I smiled, an actual smile, because I knew how true it was.

  “Good,” he hummed. “Materials are behind you on that wall. Do whatever you wish, just keep her alive, even if she’s on the brink of death’s door at the end. Windre will be glad to hear how involved you’re getting.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  Simple enough. But as the men filed out of the room and I turned toward Red, who sagged in her seat, I couldn’t bring myself to pick up any tool from the wall. I took small steps, watching her watch me, until I sat at the table with her, and her gaze shifted away.

  “Your mind is telling you to say whatever you need to, to get out of these chains, isn’t it?” I leaned forward, looking at the blood that was drying in small patches on the table. “But there is another part of you that just can’t give up your control yet.”

  Red swallowed. The stench of her fear was definitely apparent the closer I came. “A war is brewing in your mind. Do you feel crazy yet?” I tried again.

  “Why are you talking to me, Milo?” she whispered, “Just do what you’re going to do and get it over with, okay?”

  Taking my own sweet time, I licked my lips and examined the dirt that clung to dried tears in black streaks down her cheeks. Her grey eyes flicked up to me, then away.

  “Do you want me to tell you that I was a part of a rebellion? Is that what you want to hear? That the very night you found me out of bed, what I really was doing was forming a plan to escape?” Her lips trembled as she spoke.

  It had always been clear to me that she was up to something. For some reason though, it never occurred to me that she was going to run away.

  “I’m not strong, Milo,” she panted, finally meeting my stare. Her fingers cupped over the metal cuffs that kept her hands on the table. “I’m too scared to fight back. But I’m willing to do what I have to do to survive. If I knew any more, I’d tell you, if it would get me out of this mother-forsaken place. But all I have is my will to get through another day, and a couple of names.”

  “I’m not going to do anything,” I finally said, pushing the tools still on the table off to the floor. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded cloth and dipped it into the bucket of water next to my seat. I’m sure it was meant to be there for some sort of dunking, but it worked for my purposes too.

  Carefully, I took her hand and began wiping the blood from her fingers, applying pressure when the blood didn’t stop. Her lips pressed into an almost nonexistent line.

  “Do you have feelings, Milo? Are you regretting bringing me here?” she growled under her breath.

  “And if I said I did, would that change anything?”

  “No.” Her chin jutted forward.

  “You remind me of me. You are bound into slavery like I am bound to my queen. Except that to save you, all that needs to be done is someone to stand up and fight for your freedom.”

  “More than one someone has to stand up. But one person is a start.” Hope flashed in her eyes.

  “I hope one day I’ll be able to visit this realm again. And maybe one day you’ll be free.” I pulled the cloth from one hand and began dabbing at the other. “Or maybe we will meet in another world, in another lifetime and things will be different.”

  “There is no other world for me. When we die our bodies are given to the Mother. Our flesh melts into the dust that keeps this cruel world alive,” Red sighed. “Maybe one day you could be free, too.” Her face twisted as she flinched, the rag snagging on a still-fresh wound.

  “There is only one way out of the bond, and I’ll never do it. That’s how I know I’m stuck.” It was my turn to sigh as I leaned back into the chair that had never lost its warmth from the fae who was last sitting here. Fire-like pain singed at the back of my throat. Even saying the words of how to break the bond was painful. Few men had actually done it.

  “How do you do it?” I barely caught her words as I undid the shackles holding her before me. The large, heavy, metal clamp around her neck was still on, rubbing her throat raw.

  “You have to give Queen Atarah the person you love the most,” I spat the words out quickly, clenching my jaw tight trying to work through the pain of saying the words out loud.

  “But what does she do with them? Keep them as pets?”

  “If only it was that easy,” I laughed dryly. “She slits open their throats, collects their blood in a bowl, and then you must bathe in it.”

  “That’s terrible,” she agreed.

  “That’s why many sworn to her don’t do it. That’s why many of us don’t even get close enough to love people. Or people stay guarded and don’t let us love them. One or the other.”

  “Who do you love most?”

  Patting my pocket, I remembered what I had stolen from dinner for her. I pulled out a roll and placed it in her hand. She cupped it, careful not to touch it with the tips of her broken fingers. My mind drifted to Eydis as Red ate. Who did I love the most? For a while it had been the woman I had been engaged to. I had built her up to be this perfect, angelic being in my mind, and she didn’t even love me in return.

  “I don’t love anyone enough to break the bond,” I finally admitted, pulling out a small canister of water and setting it on the table between us. Listening intently, I could hear the guards breathing at the top of the stairs, no one near enough to see what I had done.

  “So you’re the type to keep your distance,” she mumbled through a full mouth. “I figured you were the type people stayed awa
y from because you’re annoying as fuck.”

  “Excuse me?” I coughed. “Would someone that annoying be kind enough to bring you something to eat in the midst of your planned starvation?”

  “Well, clearly, because you did.” She pushed the last of the bread into her mouth, one hand already reaching for the canister. Pain laced her features as she tried to extend her hand.

  With a shake of my head, I picked the water up. I pushed off the table and walked over to her side. “I’d hate to be annoying, but let me help you with that.”

  Red rolled her eyes. With one finger, I tipped her chin up and she propped her mouth open. Careful not to drown her, I slowly tipped until water drizzled out. When I stopped, she nearly moaned. A noise that sent a spike of interest straight to my groin. Twisting the lid closed, I tucked the bottle back into my pocket. I had to force myself to take a step back.

  “Thank you.” Red nodded.

  “I thought you would deserve whatever it was you had coming,” I started. “But being here, it doesn’t feel right.”

  “You’re right. Something is wrong. Not just with how they treat me, but look around, Milo.” She tossed a glance to her right and left. “Look at all these cells. Shouldn’t a king so famous for breaking nymphs have a dungeon full of crying nymphs? Where is everybody? Why am I all alone?”

  I followed her gaze. My trained eyes passed over cell after cell, all completely empty. She was right. Where were the nymphs?

  At the top of the stairs the guards shuffled. It made me wonder how much of our conversation they were listening to. Was I incriminating myself just by being down here?

  “Windre said part of the process was to make you lonely. I’m sure they are hiding somewhere.” I stalled, still glancing around. Only to mumble, “Hate to do it, Red, but that’s my cue to leave.”

  She felt like a feather as I pulled her chair away from the table and pointed her toward her cell. To avoid catching any more unwanted attention, I mouthed, “I’ll bring more food.” As she stepped forward, I closed the door loudly, sealing her back into her prison.

  A small mound of hay waited as the only comfort in the all-stone keep. I tried not to imagine being magic-less, wounded, and stuffed into a hole like that. My hand brushed the bars in an awkward goodbye. Red was already curling into herself and ignoring me as I left.

  The musty smell of the hallway greeted my sensitive nose, while I took the stairs two at a time. Both guards turned to watch me from the small platform at the top. Their faces remained blank. Whether or not that was a good sign was beyond me.

  “Think I’m going to head back to my room. Maybe get a little bit of light reading done,” I chuckled, smacking my hand off one of the guard’s chests lightly. His face remained blank. “I can show myself back.”

  Their heavy boots followed me down the hall as I turned the direction we had come from. “Or not,” I said to no one in particular, as they trailed too closely behind me. The moment I reached my room, I stepped inside and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment to hear them shuffle back into their original spots. It seemed Windre wanted to keep a close eye on me. But it didn’t feel like I was the one trying to fool the other.

  A soft caw came from outside the ledge of my window. Light tapping followed the noise as the bird outside pecked at the glass. I blinked with each hit of the thin panel that separated us. Was I confused, or was Princess Maggie's bird a day early? I thought for a moment, frowning as I remembered that our arrival here had been delayed. So I guess that meant that the bird was right on time.

  Crossing the clean, colorfully decorated space, I reached the window. It creaked as I opened it, the hinges were not often used or managed, I supposed. “Come on in, I guess. You’ll have to wait for me to write the damn letter.”

  Another soft caw and the bird dipped it’s head as if it could actually understand what I was saying. It’s wire-looking feet tapped against the stone before it flew to the small desk and cawed again. Its eyes were pure black and reflected my emotionless face more clearly the closer I came. Feathers ruffled as it made itself at home and tilted its head. Those bottomless eyes watched me.

  “Okay, then.” I stretched out my arms and cuffed my sleeves. My fingers brushed over the knobs of the drawers as I pulled them out. Many were empty, but eventually I found stationary and a pen to use.

  “See?” I held the paper up for the bird to see. If birds could scowl, then this one totally was. Clearing my throat, like I was about to begin a speech, I set the pen to the paper and began.

  Dearest Princess,

  My arrival at the Acture Court was not met with much welcome. The king and his court give the appearance of business, though I find this land to be not as I thought it would. It may be perfectly normal, or it may be as off, as I perceive it to be. Only the excessively rich keep nymphs as servants. Shouldn’t there be more than enough to go around, as there is in your court? As King Windre is the self-proclaimed breaker of nymphs, I’ve found his dungeons to be rather empty, with the exception of the servant I brought along. I have yet to explore the castle further, maybe I’ll find more nymphs hiding elsewhere. In two days I will write to your father. I’ll share the news of my arrival and the King's appearance of business. But perhaps I’ll keep my speculations to myself until I have physical proof to provide.

  Truly,

  Milo

  “Are you happy now?” I sighed. I waved the letter in the air, letting the ink dry before I rolled the crinkled parchment up and secured it to the marker on the bird's foot.

  He gave one last caw before he scuttled off my desk, claws tapping loudly, and took flight out the window. I watched as he blended in with a small flock of birds that flew away at his startling outcry.

  Pulling the window shut, I stared at the back of my closed door. Maybe I should be more direct. This uneasy feeling in my gut had to be telling me something. There was a dirty lie in this court. I just had to sniff it out.

  EIGHTEEN

  Ryker

  King Henrick’s touch had been light as a feather. His power was so strong that he needed only the barest contact to pull me, and my belongings, into the snap of travel manipulation. It had felt like getting whiplash, my neck aching like I’d been thrown forward through space. I guessed that I had. My stomach rolled from the momentum. Vomit burned like acid at the bottom of my throat, begging to be spewed out the moment I blinked into what I assumed was the Twinity Court castle.

  He had left without a word. An entire band of servants rushed in soon after and began picking and pruning every inch of my body. They had provided me everything, as Dace had suggested. But the feeling of not being deserving still nagged at me.

  They ran brushes through my hair. They scraped the dirt out from under my fingertips. Shining pink paint was applied to my nails, and with a hot iron, they replaced my natural curls with larger, more elegant ones. The washing, the primping, the stuffing into the gown, and smoothing the sharp edges of my typically too-casual look took the entire day. I’d watched the sun fall toward the horizon through the large windows of my room.

  The servants, nymphs like me, gossiped in a familiar way. They didn’t appear as underfed as I had been under Ganglin’s rule. They even smiled as they made me beautiful. Windre was right, they treated their nymphs with more respect than the other courts.

  “You're going to look so beautiful,” they whispered to me.

  “We’ve heard about you, Ryker Avery,” another one said, wide eyed. “I can’t believe everything you’ve done. Maybe after tonight you’ll make us more free than we’ve ever been.” The girl had nodded encouragingly.

  When someone else said it it felt less real. I hadn’t done much, not more than being angry and loud. But she was mostly referring to making an alliance, I assumed. That was the entire reason I had come. Dace was in alliance with me, with the nymphs, so as his crown was placed upon his head, the bonds that will lead us to victory would be strengthened.

  “What,” I stuttered. �
�What should I expect tonight?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Miss Avery. You are going to do wonders. I heard the queen already had a dream about it. She’s very confident in what will happen tonight,” one had responded while applying the subtlest pink color to my naturally very pale lips.

  “You’ll wait to be announced with the other guests. There are women here from all over the Twinity Court who wish to take Prince Dace’s hand in marriage. As they say your name you’ll walk--”

  “With straight posture and your head held high,” the third girl interrupted, pulling my shoulders back.

  “Yes,” the other continued with an annoyed glance at her friend. “You’ll walk down the flight of stairs. Prince Dace will be waiting. He will give you a nod in acknowledgment and you’ll be pretty much dismissed to go and enjoy the party.”

  “That’s only if he is still waiting at the stairs though. He could be off dancing with a guest that arrived before you, if he favors her.”

  “If he favors her?” I gulped. Just thinking about the beautiful fae women that I was supposed to walk proudly behind made my palms sweaty.

  “Whomever Dace favors at the beginning of the night to be his bride, when they reach the bottom of the steps, he will offer his hand. If she agrees and takes his hand, he will escort her to the dance floor and the party will officially begin.”

  “And if she doesn’t accept his hand?” I asked, almost hopefully. Under the heat of their attention, I pointed my gaze bashfully to the floor. What was I even asking? He would offer his hand to a gorgeous fae and then he would dance the night away. And that was just how it was meant to be.

  “No one would deny the prince's hand and the chance to be queen,” the third nymph had laughed.

  Her laugh still echoed in my thoughts now. My hands were just as sweaty as they had been all morning. Beaded, beautiful gowns filled my vision, before and behind me. Fae women mostly, a few accompanied by fathers or brothers, waited in a long line to be introduced to the royal family.