Crown of Darkness (Dark Court Rising Book 2)

by Bec McMaster

  “I like Imerys.”

  “I’m not murdering a crown princess,” he says dryly. “Even if she has grabby hands.”

  “I’m fairly certain Eris would volunteer if you gave her the eyebrow.”

  “The eyebrow?”

  I mimic one of his favorite expressions; cool, calculating, off-with-her-head…. “I jest. We need Ravenal—ruling princess aside. And I don’t like to think that I’m starting to sound like my mother, so no pushing anyone from the battlements. But if she touches you again, I can’t promise I’m not going to draw my dagger and challenge her to a duel.”

  “Mmm.” His voice drops. “Now tell me what’s wrong. The guards are gone.”

  “I think there was a fetch in the library.”

  He goes so still, I wonder if he heard me. “They shouldn’t be able to find you while you’re wearing that bracelet.”

  “I know,” I whisper, stroking his arm. Just two lovers stealing a kiss in the gardens. No one from Ravenal needs to know that one of the Heartless might be stalking the shadows of Ravenspire.

  “Are you certain it was a fetch?”

  “The bracelet felt cold, and it was almost tugging me toward whatever was in the shadows. Imerys thought she saw something too.”

  “Did you see it?”

  I shake my head. “Just a shadow.”

  Thiago’s thumb rubs over the back of my hand. “You don’t go anywhere without either myself or Eris from now on.”

  “It might not have been the fetch.”

  His eyes narrow, and he leans down, close enough to kiss me. “I don’t care. Nowhere, Vi. Not alone. I didn’t spend thirteen years winning your heart only to lose you now. Promise me.”

  With a sigh, I wrap my arms around his neck. “It shall be a great hardship, but I shall glue myself to your side until we leave Ravenal. All day. All night….”

  “Mmmm.” His gaze drops to my lips. “Why don’t you tell me about these nights?”

  Chapter Twelve

  I can’t sleep.

  Every time I close my eyes, I find myself falling into a deep, dark hole I can’t get out of. A baby cries on the other side of the wall and I scratch at the rock, desperate to rescue the child. But the water that lines the bottom of the hole starts rising, and soon it’s sweeping over my head, and I choke and cough and splutter and then it’s too late….

  I wake with a gasp, the scream trapped in my throat.

  Just a nightmare. Just another nightmare…. But the sound of a baby crying seems to echo almost on the verge of hearing.

  I turn my thoughts toward the Mother of Night. Stop it! If these dreams are yours, then I hope you choke on them!

  But there’s no response.

  There never is, and I’m not sure whether it’s because she doesn’t hear me—or because she’s silently laughing to herself.

  Thiago stirs, but I stroke a hand over his bare shoulder and then ease from the bed. It’s not the first time this has happened, and while he’ll usually wrap me in his arms until the nightmare fades, tonight I want to be alone. Dressing swiftly, I slip onto the balcony and bow my head, trying to stop my heart from racing.

  It felt so real.

  It always does, but tonight I can practically feel the grit under my fingernails.

  A shadow moves out of the corner of my eye, and I nearly leap out of my skin until I realize who it is.

  “Bad dreams?” Eris asks, leaning against the watchtower at the end of the balcony.

  I rest my hands on the battlements and sigh. “Every night it’s the same nightmare. I need to find the crown.”

  “You have nine months,” she says.

  Nine months. I wish she knew what kind of precognitive tremor those words send down my spine. I’m not pregnant, and we’ve been so careful, but still….

  “We’ve had three,” I point out, walking toward her so the sound of our voices won’t wake Thiago, “and we’re no closer to getting our hands on it. Walk the battlements with me?”

  She follows as I head for the stairs that lead down onto the ramparts.

  Eris slowly rubs her thumb over the sharp blade of her knife, almost unconsciously. “I could return to the Morai. I’ve never been. They’ll have to answer my questions.”

  What? “You hauled me out of their cave after we set fire to it. I’m fairly certain answering your questions isn’t going to be their first priority if they see you. Besides, their cave is too close to Blaedwyn’s territories, and I’m not entirely certain who’s in charge there with the Erlking on the loose.”

  “He owes you two favors.”

  And I promised I would never call them in. “Thiago doesn’t want me to capture any more of his attention.”

  The Erlking is one of the most dangerous Old Ones. He leads the Wild Hunt, and whilst I’ve heard no mention of it howling free since I set him loose, the golden antler tattoos on my hand aren’t there of my own volition.

  “I could… subdue the Morai,” she finally says. “I could make them tell me where the crown is.”

  Devourer, they’d called her as they flinched away from her.

  But I saw the look in her eyes, and as much as Eris walls herself away from the world with an uncaring shrug and the curl of a lip, it hurt her in some way to see them shudder before her.

  How would it feel to be the one thing the monsters are afraid of?

  “We have nine months,” I say instead. “If we can’t find any trace of the crown before then, then we may have to look at such alternatives. Making any headway with the Prince of Ravens?”

  “Corvin?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you. And he asked you to dance.”

  “I declined.”

  “He’s handsome.”

  “Trust me. He’s not interested in me.” A winter’s night holds more warmth than her voice right now. “None of them are truly interested in me.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  She looks down her nose at me. “Do I want to ask what sort of power you were channeling at the Queensmoot?”

  I freeze.

  Eris looks out over the castle. “I’m not a fool, Vi. The others were distracted by your mother’s assault, but I’m the weapon at Thiago’s right hand. I’m supposed to be his shield. I’ve spent centuries training to recognize threats. And the only time I’ve ever felt the hairs rise on my arms the way they did at the Queensmoot was when we went to Mistmere and you made that bargain with the Mother of Night. Are you going to tell the others?”

  “I….”

  All of a sudden, I can’t breathe.

  “I won’t tell them,” she says curtly. “It’s your secret, not mine. Because I don’t think that was the Mother of Night’s power. You were channeling the ley lines, and there’s only one creature I know who is supposed to have the power to do that.”

  The leanabh an dàn.

  Somehow, I start breathing again. In my mother’s court, a secret such as this could be catastrophic. But… “If word of this got out….”

  “As I said, it’s your secret.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” Eris takes a deep breath, looking troubled. “None of us will turn away from you, Vi. I know you find it hard to trust, but we’re family.”

  “That’s a word that holds a different meaning for me.”

  She looks at me for a long moment. “They were going to kill me.”

  “Who?”

  “When I was younger,” she says, resting her hands on the parapet and looking over the bailey, “I was not… wholly in control of myself. I would try to contain the creature inside me, but sometimes I’d scent blood or hear an injured animal calling out, and it was enough to force me to the killing edge.” Her face locks down. “I’ll spare you the details, but by the time the hunters finally caught me, the entire Seelie Alliance sat in judgement over me. They wanted my head. It was safer. Kinder, they said. The only difficulty lay in how to execute me safely, and I’ll never forget that feeling—listening
to them debate just how they were going to do it without rousing the creature inside me. There was only one ruler who stayed silent. Only one of them who watched me, his eyes slowly narrowing. And he asked me what I would do if I was offered a chance of absolution. And I said anything.”

  I see it in her face, what that hope did to her.

  And I know who that ruler was.

  “Thiago said he would help me learn to bind away the creature inside me and control it. He would take me into his kingdom, take me under his wing, and if I broke again—if I lost control—then he would bear the burden of my execution.” Eris releases a shaky breath. “It cost him the border lands. Your mother was the only one who refused to consent until he offered her the one thing she desired most, just to save me.”

  I’ve always wondered how Eris came to be the shadow over his shoulder, the threat that cows the world.

  My mother used to say that Thiago leashed “that bitch,” and it was the worst mistake she’d ever made—allowing it.

  But it’s not a leash.

  And I love him all over again for being the kind of ruler who can inspire his people with such hope. They will all die for him and give their lives gladly, and my mother doesn’t understand that.

  “He gave me a reason to fight,” she continues. “If I lost control again, then it was no longer merely my own head on the executioner’s block, but his too, and through him, an entire kingdom. But more than that, he gave me the greatest gift anyone has ever offered me in my fight. I’d given in to despair, and the monster feeds upon despair. It choked me with loneliness until there was no reason not to give in. But when he believed in me…, I was no longer alone. I was no longer lost in the dark. There was a hand reaching through the darkness for me, pulling me to my feet, offering me strength.

  “Finn, Baylor, Lysander, even Thalia….” Eris turns her ancient eyes upon me. “They’re my family now. We are all broken in some way. We are all considered monsters or outcasts. There’s no other place for any of us to go, but he gives us a home. He gives us hope. And all it costs us is loyalty. There’s a reason he was drawn to you, Vi. It’s the same reason he was drawn to all of us—because he sees a piece of himself in us. He sees the boy that he was, and the choices he was offered, and the things he was forced to do to survive—and he sees that same desperation within us.”

  I think I understand what she’s telling me.

  “You’re not alone, Vi. We are your family—no matter what happens. And he’s your husband. Don’t let your inner monster win.”

  I rest both hands on the parapet and say dryly, “My inner monster sounds a lot like my mother.”

  Eris gives a rough laugh. “Mine sounds like my father.”

  I look at her at that, but from the expression on her face, she’s done sharing.

  Indeed, her attention shifts to the wind. “Can you smell smoke?”

  I’m about to shake my head when I catch a whiff of it. Far too strong to belong to a hearth fire. “Yes.”

  There’s no sign of flames in the bailey. No hint of light flickering out in the night.

  “Stay there,” she urges, tossing me her knife, and then she turns and strides along the battlements.

  I pace for long minutes, breathing in the acrid scent. It’s getting stronger, and there’s no sign of Eris.

  “Eris?” I call softly.

  The fae might flee from her in fear, but that doesn’t mean she’s invulnerable.

  And the smell of smoke is getting stronger. Something’s wrong.

  Don’t get involved. She told you to stay here.

  But a soft grunt echoes through the night, and then something clatters as if a sheet of metal hits the cobbles.

  Or a sword.

  What was that?

  “Eris?”

  I can almost imagine the tongue-lashing I’m going to receive if I disobey her and she’s fine, but there’s a tingle along my arms that doesn’t feel right. It feels like magic. It feels like a cool breath blowing over the back of my neck.

  Rounding the tower, I stop in my tracks.

  The library’s on fire.

  “Fire!” I call, scurrying down the stairs toward the library tower. Ravenal’s guards have been following me and Eris around like flies buzzing over a corpse ever since we got here, and now is the one time they decide to go searching for the water closet? “Is there anyone there? Fire!”

  Silence.

  Where are the guards?

  “Eris?” I yell.

  There’s no sign of her.

  A tiny figure darts across the courtyard, flapping her hands at the flames. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  We both skid to a halt, but I can tell Imerys barely sees me. The wall of heat makes me lift a hand to protect my face. I can’t believe how quickly it’s going up. When I first saw it, flames were licking at the door and through the windows, but glass shatters as I watch, and a fireball blooms through the window.

  “Fire!” she screams. “Halvor! Endarryon! Where are you?”

  Imerys takes a step inside the building, and I grab her around the waist, hauling her back from the flames and the smoke.

  A cough tears from my throat. “You’ll burn!”

  “The books!”

  “Books can be replaced.” She’s strong for such a lean woman. I slam her against the staircase, forcing her to look at me. “If you go in there, you’ll die!”

  “You don’t understand!” Horror stretches her face. “My great-grandmother’s collection is the best in the world. All the remaining history from before the wars is shelved in that tower. It’s irreplaceable!”

  “Think about it! There are no guards,” I hiss. “There are usually guards in this section of the bailey, aren’t there?”

  After all, I’d spent enough time working out their rotations before I made my previous mission into the library.

  Imerys’s nails dig into my forearms, but she’s looking at me now.

  “Eris went to see what was happening. And I can’t find her. She wouldn’t disappear like this. And now the library’s on fire.” It’s not just the flames we need to worry about.

  Imerys’s eyes sharpen. “You think whoever did this happened upon her?”

  I’ve seen Eris with a sword in hand. If they did, then they’re regretting it right now. “Where’s the nearest water tower? Where are your magic-wielders? Surely someone can wield water?”

  Imerys suddenly gasps. “Gossamer!”

  And before I can grab her, she bolts into the burning tower.

  “Imerys!” There’s no answer. “Imerys!”

  Gone to rescue her demi-fey.

  I look around desperately, but despite our yells, no one has come.

  And I can’t just let her burn.

  Fire is the gift of my fae heritage after all.

  It has to be enough.

  Yanking my cloak over my face I leap through the doorway, warding the flames away from me. They part like the sea, but there’s so much of it. Too much smoke. Too much heat.

  A gust of hot air sweeps around me, and I wield it away. “Imerys!”

  “Gossamer!” I hear someone scream.

  There. To the right. She’s trying to battle through a wall of flames. Focusing on them, I clench my hand and they die down. Imerys shoots me a grateful look and then leaps toward the desk where the little demi-fey guard flutters helplessly.

  “This way!” I yell, sweat dripping down my temples as I try to contain the fire. A chained grimoire makes a leap off its shelf, the chain yanking it back. It slaps against the bookcase, and a spurt of flame catches in the black-edged pages. With a hiss, the flames turn green, and then an amorphous shape howls free, screaming as if it was somehow trapped within the book.

  Sparks of white catapult past my nose, and another book screams loudly enough to shatter glass.

  Maia’s blessing. There are so many spells contained within these pages that I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire tower explodes.

  “Imerys!”
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br />   She tucks the little demi-fey under her coat and sprints toward me, ducking a belch of flame. I wave it out of her way, and then she’s slamming into me, shoving me back toward the door.

  “Watch out!” she yells.

  A burning strut crashes down, knocking the shelves into Imerys. They jam her between them, and I fall free at the last second. It’s easier to breath down here, but I cough out smoke, my eyes stinging.

  “Vi? Vi!”

  A voice.

  “Over here!” Tremors run through my arms as magic backlash starts to fry my nerves. This is the most I’ve ever used my magic, and I can feel it starting to drive a knife right through my brain. Too long disused.

  I just have to hold the flames away long enough for our rescuers to reach us.

  An enormous shape appears in the smoke and for a second my heart lifts, thinking it’s Thiago, but then the smoke clears enough to see more of him, and I recognize Finn.

  “Finn!”

  By the look of it, he’s come straight from bed, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head when I realize he’s dragged on a pair of leather trousers and little else. “Hardly the place to be languishing, Princess.”

  “What? Burning to death in a library isn’t your favorite way to make the shift into the Bright Lands?” I push to my feet, a gush of flame wafting closer. “The princess is trapped.”

  He follows my glance and curses under his breath. “Get out. I’ll bring the girl.”

  “You just want to play the hero.” I shake my head. “I have to stay. Someone has to ward the flames away from you.”

  The markings on Finn’s arms start to glow. “Are you certain you’re up to it?”

  It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  But I grit my teeth. “The longer we wait, the less likely I can contain it.”

  He gives me a clipped nod and then vanishes.

  I feel like I’m trying to pry stone from a wall with my bare fingers or part a river with only my mind. Flame curls away from Finn as he wades toward Imerys, and only my desperation manages to keep them from swallowing him whole.

  Sweat drips down my temples. I grind my teeth together and silently scream.

  Finn squats and hauls the burning bookcase off Imerys and then throws her unconscious form over his shoulder. The little demi-fey guard scrambles up his body and clings to his shoulder as Finn starts back toward us.