I inhaled sharply, tilting my head up to take in the sky. The book of spells was at Lepidus Court too. Destiny pushed me closer, calling on my intuition to ride through the night.
***
The bold silhouette of the smoky mountains blocked the rising sun. Ash Forest curled around me, beckoning me with an ancient song of my ancestors. I’d stuck to main road through the forest. The occasional carriage would pass us on our way north. Towns turned into villages, which led to the odd house caught somewhere off the beaten path. Now there was just forest. Forest and mountains.
Tying the horse to a tree trunk, I whispered, “I’ll be back,” then stepped off the path.
My staff pulsated when I entered. I fought my way through the webs of leaves and tangled brambles. Vaporous mist wrapped itself around nearby roots, writhing as it caressed the ivy-strangled trunks. The canopy thickened. Dappled light shone through tangled branches. Woody incense filled the forest from years of trodden twigs and rotting bark, and grains of magic begrimed the bark, shimmering like faery dust.
Snakes slithered under bristles of wispy moss, and charcoal-black trees stood tall, their crumbly bark washed in a flush of dawn. Skeletons of fallen leaves covered the path.
Sunlight pierced the canopy and onto a burial site, one of hundreds littered through the vast sea of trees. Headstones of names long forgotten spoke to me through waves of energy. I’d never ventured that far into the forest of our ancestors before. I knew it had soul, but here, so far from civilization, it was alive. Each leaf trembled from the immense power the trees contained. Curiosity burned at me to touch one. I flexed my fingers, begging to feel the magic, when electricity pushed me away. Lights floated in my vision, and I lost my footing.
Twigs snapped under my feet, sending a flock of birds from the branches above. Pain throbbed violently through my skull, blinding me. Visions flashed into my mind. Faces, familiar in scenes I did not remember, forced themselves onto me. I pushed my palms against my temples, dropping to my knees. Sharp edges of leaves pricked into my bare legs as my skirt billowed around them.
“Aghhh!”
Visions floated, but when I tried to see more, to touch, they fizzled out. As quick as the migraine had come, it went away, leaving me with blinding emptiness. I started blankly ahead. Morgana’s words poked at me tentatively. “You have the gift of foresight too.” But I didn’t dare approach that now.
Hugged between trees where my staff had been made, and surrounded by my ancestors, revealed things in me that hadn’t shown themselves before. I shut the doors of my mind, focusing only on my journey. I had been foolish to slip into the forest in the first place.
I tackled my way through branches that clawed at my arms like talons. I fell out onto the red-clay path I’d strayed from. The horse, blacker than the night, snorted from where I’d left him. The rising sun illuminated the snow resting on the peaks. How was I going to get through? Blaise had flown me last time, and the times before then, I’d come in a carriage. Staring ahead, a path revealed itself, weaving through the middle of two mountains. Jagged edges pointed downward as a warning, the way losing itself to blackness. Pressing my trembling fingers on my lips, I pushed onward, then untied the horse.
“Good boy,” I whispered, my hand pressed against his warm coat.
An anumi howled somewhere in the distance, probably hiding from dawn, and that was my cue. I climbed onto the steed’s back, felt for the reins, and pulled.
The path of loose rock winded ahead. He trotted through the small crease that led us as sunlight cascaded down striations of rock. The track curved around, and knotted boughs and branches broken through boulders stretched outward, widening the way.
The horse whinnied as yellow eyes looked down at us from rough ridges. “Wolves,” I whispered under my breath, then rubbed the horse’s mane. “It’s okay, boy.”
With my staff firm in my grasp, I inhaled sharply. Howling erupted around us. Mistaking the howl of wolves for an anumi, I realized how different they were. There was intelligence in their amber eyes. They pawed the ground, snow falling on their silver-white coats. One snarled, baring its teeth, dripping saliva into a pool on the ground. They growled in unison, closing in around us. More appeared, snaking around hidden ledges, joining the others.
“I wouldn’t,” I warned, my eyes bulging.
The horse’s tail swished, and his body jerked, almost throwing me off.
“Easy now,” I whispered. “Easy.”
I recalled a spell from one of the books I’d read in Blaise’s library. Had I known it and used it on the anumi, I’d have been saved that whole trip, but I had left my staff behind out of fear. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I spoke the spell, and shockwaves pulled through my fingers. I blew out steadily, keeping one hand on the horse’s neck to calm him. Light erupted from the sapphire, hitting three of them.
They whimpered, then ran. Blood covered their fur. I didn’t kill them; I wasn’t cruel. Their nature was to hunt, and I was in their territory. How they’d become confident enough to go after sorcerers was beyond me. Although, fae power wasn’t as strong, and a wolf or two could probably take one down. They couldn’t tell the difference between our kinds; pointed ears and beauty were all that told us apart, except for the wings, but they could be tucked away.
The other wolves leered, then ran after their wounded. I checked my surroundings twice, then pushed ahead. I’d enjoyed seeing the loyalty of the stronger wolves going after the weak to protect them. There was such honor in wolf packs, that as a young girl, they were my favorite of all the animals to learn about.
The path narrowed when we emerged on the other side. We were met with a large, shining lake. The surface looked like a mirror. It stretched out as far as the eye could see. Snow crunched under my boots when I jumped down from the horse. I led him to the edge. He neighed, pulling back as I forced him forward. “It’s fine. Come on.” I pulled at the lead, but he wouldn’t budge. Its eyes got bigger as the leather ripped from my grip.
“No! Wait!’ I shouted as he ran. “No. No.” A spell to trap an animal invaded my thoughts, but I wouldn’t. I could accidentally break his leg or hurt him with such a spell, and then he’d be no use to me and would most likely die. I didn’t know many healing spells. Ancestral magic leaned toward offensive and defensive magic more than wellness or healing. Healing was for the fae, pixies, and other creatures who used natural magic.
I walked for over an hour, but there was no path in sight. Just more water and snow. The lake went on forever. Was this an obstacle to prevent passing? My shoulders relaxed, and a smirk played on my lips. “Of course. Glamour. Fool me once…” I said aloud. I spotted a green weed poking through the snow cover and focused on it. As I did, the lake melted away, revealing the graveled road leading to Lepidus.
TWENTY-SIX
Lepidus court was lost to a swirl of snow flurries. Closing my eyes, I walked under the archways of thorns, and to the guards who wouldn’t let me pass.
One turned and left, recognizing me from when I had been here for the wedding. After several minutes, he returned and muttered something to the other guard.
“Come with us.”
They walked me into the obsidian castle.
The truth lies in the eyes of the jaded” were the immortal words scribed above the throne room. The quote had changed since King Azrael died, whom I still couldn’t quite believe daggered himself, but I supposed he did seem depressed, like he was losing his mind.
The court had been refashioned and refreshed under Blaise’s short rule. Vines of purple ivy were wrapped around tall columns. The walls and ceiling were coated with a shimmering substance spelled to look like frost. Blues, silvers, and white glistened everywhere. My footsteps were light against the marbled floor as the arched white doors were opened to reveal the throne room.
The rules of Ash Court were forgotten in a blizzard of shining blades that hung on the walls. Snowflakes fell from above, then disappeared before landing, a t
rick he had used when dancing with me once. The memory warmed me.
Azrael’s portraits had been taken down and replaced with Blaise’s. He radiated strength and ambition in the detailed paintings. Strokes of blues and silvers surrounded his likeness, and in them, he was immortalized as royalty. A part of me ached for that respect, of being a true ruler. At the same time, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. His father was barely cold, and all traces of him had been removed. A ruler of hundreds of years, forgotten in mere weeks. How had Blaise managed it?
I remembered how pleased my father had been when he got news of Azrael’s demise; they’d always warred. I’d heard him whooping through the wood panel in the secret tunnel when the news broke.
My tutor at the academy had told me about King Azrael before I’d met him. She’d explained how he had taken the throne at the tender age of sixteen, after the fae war, back when he was jovial, strong, and full of ideas that would shape the future for his family. Blessed with immortality, magic, and love, he had everything anyone could desire, until he lost his wife. She had died at the same hand as he had: Azrael’s. Azrael and the queen often had dueling matches to improve their swordsmanship, and unknowing the powers of the knife—what I later learned from Blaise was the dagger of ruin, which held the power to kill an immortal—he had scratched her skin with the blade. She died shortly after.
My heart sank at the thought of his loneliness, but he was at peace now. When I’d seen him weeks prior, he looked like he belonged in the Spirit Realm, not here. It was for the best, I decided.
I strode forward with grace and dignity. The judgement in the fae’s eyes would not belittle me to crawl back, afraid. Confidence kept my chin up, until I spotted him. Blaise sat on his throne, relaxed, with one leg over the arm, leaning back with a cigar. The silver crown of metal thorns and berries sat on his black hair.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my bride who wasn’t to be. I was told you’d arrived at my gates, but I didn’t quite believe it.”
“Your Majesty.” I hurried to him. My fingers were frozen cold.
He drew in on his cigar. A puff of clover smoke left his mouth, swirling into my face. I coughed and waved the air. “Do you have to do that?”
He wore a wolfish grin, then put the cigar on a silver plate on the arm of his throne. His eyes watched me like those of a bird of prey. I carefully regarded the shape of his lips, reminiscing about how they tasted on mine.
“Have you come to apologize?” His gaze softened. “I’m assuming you got my letter if you’re here.”
My mind flitted to the sealed brown envelope on my dresser. “I didn’t read it,” I admitted. It was pointless lying. He’d see right through me.
He winced but regained composure. “In that case, you shouldn’t be here. You are not welcome.”
“I’m here to explain. I’m in danger. I can’t go back home.”
“Your ambitions changed,” he replied casually, as if my world hadn’t immediately shattered. “Your time away aligned you with the likes of your cousins rather than with your father. You showed your true colors that day. You made a vow, signed an agreement. I tried to make you happy, and you obviously did not care if you couldn’t find the time to even read a note.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, glaring. He didn’t know the truth, that I had saved them from my father’s evil plans and I only wanted to save the elves, not the Berovians. It was also payment, for Jasper’s death, none of which he knew. He couldn’t. It would spark a war. “I don’t care for Berovia. My father believes I am his enemy, but he is your enemy. You know I speak the truth.”
He leaned forward. The diamonds on his rings shone under the light of the chandelier. “I do not want anything bad to happen to you.” He teetered on the edge of words but stopped himself, leaving me amid silence. “I cannot help you,” he finally said, then pressed a fist to his lips.
“Then I guess that’s it.”
“If you can change King Amos’s mind, then perhaps we can—”
I shook my head. “You of all people know that’s impossible. Besides, like I said, I can’t go back.” I looked at the rest of the fae in the room, all of whom were listening intently. “Please, can we go somewhere more private?”
He waved his hand in the air, his voice projecting above all others. “Everyone out.”
My nose wrinkled as I watched the room empty. “Why couldn’t we just go somewhere else?”
“I don’t leave. They do. It’s a perk of being king.”
I scoffed. “Congratulations.”
“You’re not in a position to be snarky, Princess. Those days are long gone.” He looked down at my ringless finger.
“King Amos cannot rule anymore,” I said. “He’s dangerous.” I couldn’t explain why without starting a war I didn’t want. Too many of my people would die to protect the scoundrel with the crown.
A mischievous glint played in his bright-blue eyes. “He won’t always be in charge.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “There are always ways to remove obstacles in the way to true power.”
His words sliced through me like ice. “I can’t kill him. Despite what he has done or will do, he’s my father.” I sighed. He wouldn’t care if I died, so why did I still feel even a ounce of compassion for the man?
He leaned into my ear and whispered. “So was mine.”
I jolted, enough for him to pause. His father had died at his own hand, or so we all thought.
“I won’t kill someone.”
“I thought you were strong.”
I clenched my jaw. “I made it here alive. I could take down a faery as easily as I took down any wolf. I’m not weak!” My knuckles turned white around the ash wood of my staff.
“You’re outnumbered here, and it’s treason to threaten the king.”
“Then execute me.”
Neither of us looked away.
“If you’d stayed, I’d have protected you from any harm.”
“If I had stayed, you’d be dead.”
He drew his head back, stumbling on my words. “What?”
I rubbed my forehead with my spare hand, pressing my fingers against the bone, offering relief of the tiredness overwhelming me.
His eyes bulged. “What do you mean I’d be dead?”
“Be glad I changed my mind,” I said wearily. “Please, it’s all I can say.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
He glared at me. “I cared for you.”
My bloodshot eyes begged to be closed. “I thought you didn’t do feelings?”
He leaned back. “I don’t do love.”
I tucked my lips in. “Okay, so you care. Yet you won’t help me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “You can stay the night and rest. Tomorrow, you must leave.”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, stretching the words out.
He opened his mouth to speak but closed his lips tightly before any words left them. Perhaps I should have done the same thing. I’d already let on too much.
I left the room quickly, unwilling to let him see the fear in my tears. I couldn’t hide it. I was hurt. After all that had happened, I thought he would help. I’d left him, and I knew it pained him and broke our alliance, but I’d saved him too. I told him that if I had stayed, he would be dead and that wasn’t enough.
I had no one left in the world.
At the very least, I could find the book tomorrow. I guessed it was put back in Blaise’s library after I’d been thrown out. I had discarded it under my pillow.
***
Silver pinpricked the black canvass above. I stared up, dazzled by the stars, not wanting it to fall into morning light as I lay in the gardens of the court.
A faery who embodied the moon approached me. She was stunningly beautiful with bright silver eyes and long white hair. Her ears pointed through her silky strands. She carried herself with a grace I admired. Her chin was pointed, and her features striking.
I sat up right as she re
ached me. “Winter,” she spat, then grabbed my arm. Her nails sank into my skin, leaving bruised half-crescent marks when she finally let go. Her gaze was pointed as something deadly floated in her irises. She tilted her head to one side. I recognized her as the woman I’d caught him sleeping with in his library. “You shouldn’t have come here.” Her voice was light but direct. It cut through me like glass.
“Why?” I hissed, rubbing my arm.
She ground her teeth as a wave of rage flashed across her expression. “Blaise is mine. He was and always will be mine. You were an idea once, and now that the betrothal is broken, we can finally be together.” She pointed her long nail at my chest. “Do not come between us again. You ran from him on your wedding day. You don’t deserve his forgiveness, even if he pities you.”
I laughed. Her impatience grew by the second.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m a princess. You are a…” I looked around and shrugged. “Well, a nobody. If you threaten me again…” I leaned in until I was an inch from her nose. “I will destroy you. Have some respect, and remember who you’re talking to.”
Her scowl wavered, replaced by an unsure smile. “You’re irrelevant. Out of favor with your own family, and out of favor with soon-to-be mine too. You have no betrothal and…” She looked up at my head. “No crown either. Your threats don’t scare me.”
I didn’t want to let her get to me, but her truth stung, and I couldn’t hide the tears that pricked my eyes. I was strong, I always had been, but nothing was going my way, and the more I tried to do the right thing, the worse things got. Was I bound to the darkness and being punished for taking charge of my own destiny?
She turned on her heel and made her way back to the castle.
Word of the distance between my father and me had traveled fast. How many would attempt to hurt me knowing I may no longer be Magaelor’s future queen? It was the first time I’d let myself think it. The thought sank like lead all the way to the pit of my stomach. I’d been used and was never going to rule. I had been living an illusion. Amos knew I wouldn’t wear the crown, but Morgana had predicted I would.
The Fate of Crowns: The Complete Trilogy: A YA Epic Fantasy Boxset Page 21