by Jayne Faith
“Maxen?” I hollered when I reached the end of the row. “Maxen! It’s Petra!”
“In here,” came his muffled voice from my right.
I swiveled to that door and began jamming keys in one by one. The third try freed the lock. Maxen stood in the dark box of a room, pale, rumpled, and thin. I knew he’d been sneaking in and out of his cell, unbeknownst to Periclase, but had been unable to do anything about the occupation of the fortress on his own. He blinked at me, his lips parted.
“I’ve got Dobhar dogs and Sylph swords with me,” I said hurriedly, turning back the way I’d come.
Maxen followed me back to the start of the row of cells. I unlocked that door and found Shane McNab inside. He was one of the youngest officers in the Carraig battle ranks.
Shane pulled back, shock etched on his face. “Petra?”
“Yeah,” I said. I tossed him the set of keys, and he bobbled them but managed to hang on. “As I was telling Maxen, I’ve got about two dozen Dobhar and Sylph soldiers with me. They’re working through the fortress from here. Shane, unlock the rest of the cells, would you?”
He was staring at me with conflicting emotions flickering over his face, clearly unsure how he should treat me. I didn’t really blame him. I’d killed his monarch.
Shane turned his gaze to Maxen, apparently not willing to take orders from a traitor.
“Do it,” Maxen said. “And it’s not Petra. It’s Your Majesty.”
Shane’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“By Oberon’s order, we’re now the Carraig Sidhe and Petra is our queen. You might as well spread the news. We need to get the Duergar out of here.”
I briefly closed my eyes as relief flooded through me. I should have trusted Maxen to do what was best for our people, but I hadn’t been absolutely sure about how he would greet me. This was a start. I could work with this.
“Where did Periclase stick the weapons?” I asked.
Maxen pointed back down the hallway. “One of the warded cells.”
“Get them,” I said to Shane. “Arm everyone in here, and then go out and eliminate those Duergar bastards.”
Shane’s nostrils flared, his free hand tightening into a fist. He gave me a curt nod. “Your Majesty.”
He turned and began unlocking the cells. I grabbed Maxen’s arm and towed him into the reception area. There, I swiped the short sword still clutched in the hand of the man I’d stabbed through the back. I tossed it handle-first at Maxen, and he caught it with one hand.
“Where to now?” Maxen asked. Stone armor rippled over his skin as he swung the sword a few times, testing its balance and heft.
“Wherever Eldon is. I think we can best the Duergar soldiers, but the Fae sorcerer is the real pain in my ass. Fortunately, I have something that blocks his magic.” I held up my hand, showing Maxen the brass charm locked around my forearm. “But its use is limited, so we’ll need to work fast. Any idea where he’d be?”
“He tends to keep to the west royal wing.” Maxen’s blue eyes narrowed, and he tipped his head at the door I’d barred. “Let’s do it.”
I reached for the short sword, ready to yank it out, but paused and turned back to him. “I appreciate what you did back there.” My gaze flicked to the door that led to the cells.
He nodded, his jaw muscles flexing.
I slid the sword from the door handles and reached back to stick the weapon in my scabbard. If I came across any Carraigs, I could at least arm one of them with the spare.
Maxen and I burst out into the hallway. Duergar guards had descended upon the area, as our arrival there had attracted a lot of attention. He pivoted right and I turned left, and we started swinging.
We needed to make our way left and up two floors. The west royal wing Maxen had mentioned was actually where his own quarters were. There was space for more people, but Marisol only had one child and no other living relatives. It was more or less Maxen’s wing. No wonder he looked pissy when he told me where Eldon liked to hang out.
One small pack of three Dobhar had remained in the vicinity, their snarls cutting through the noise of battle and their wild musk hanging in the air. The mangled throats of several soldiers on the ground were the work of the dogs. The Dobhar, Maxen, and I finished off the rest of the Duergar nearby.
“This way,” I said to the three Dobhar. I tried not to look too hard at the blood staining the fur around their mouths.
Maxen and I took off to the left, and the big dogs loped after us, snapping their jaws and growling in anticipation of the next fight. Maxen pointed his sword at a flight of stairs up ahead.
We reached the next floor before we ran into more Duergar. Two of them turned and fled when they saw the canine shifters, and we made short work of the other four who stayed to fight. One of the Dobhar took off to chase down the soldiers who’d run.
I’d turned, ready to sprint to the next flight of stairs, when a deafening whoosh of magic rushed through the corridor. The air around me darkened as if night had suddenly descended.
The gloaming. Eldon had arrived.
I couldn’t see the dogs, but the Dobhar howled in frustration.
“Maxen?”
I turned to look for him just as the band on my arm began to tingle. It grew extremely hot, and then light as bright as the summer sun burst outward from it. There was a low cry and then a crash. I threw my other forearm across my eyes. When I peered around, the gloaming had burned away around me. Melusine’s magic had also cut a path through the dark mist between me and the Fae sorcerer.
Even better, it appeared to have punched him backward. He was sitting against the far wall, his legs splayed out in front of him and his eyes stunned. That was the look of a man who’d just had his bell rung.
Brandishing Aurora, I strode swiftly toward him. He would recover in a moment, and my charm wouldn’t keep me safe from his power forever.
I stood over him, and he peered up at me.
“Try that again,” I growled.
He squinted at me and then raised his hand and made quick gestures with his fingers. Shadows streamed from his fingers. When they got within about six inches of me, my charm erupted again. I squeezed my eyes closed against the painful brightness as Melusine’s magic erupted from the cuff. Along with the light had come an explosion. When I cracked my eyelids open, I found a hole low on the wall where Eldon had been sitting a moment before.
I went up and peered through it, waving my hand through the dust. Through the opening, I saw the bottoms of the Fae sorcerer’s boots. My charm had shot him clear through the wall and he lay on the floor of a sitting room. I climbed through the hole.
“Had enough?” I asked.
He sat up. Blood was leaking from a cut at his temple. It dripped from one corner of his mouth, too. His eyes on me, he turned his head and spat to the side. His long white hair was a mess of tangles and sheetrock chunks.
The charm was vibrating and cooling off. I was pretty sure its power was about to run out. But Eldon didn’t need to know that.
I went down on one knee next to him, my eyes level with his. Last time we’d been in the same room, he’d momentarily lost control of me when I’d convulsed and suddenly found myself transported into the body of an ancient warrior and to a place I didn’t recognize. When I’d returned to my senses, Eldon had the same look on his face he had right now.
“I know you’re not really interested in fighting for Finvarra and the Unseelie,” I said, my voice soft. “We could use someone like you on our side. But you hurt my father, and unfortunately for you, that means I need to kill you.”
His eyes tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
I thought of Melusine’s note, the one I was supposed to deliver to Eldon. Too bad. Acting as a messenger between Old Ones wasn’t my job. I had a chance to end the Fae sorcerer, and I was going to take it because I’d sworn to myself that I would.
“I didn’t kill your father,” he said.
“Maybe you didn’t deal a deat
h blow, but you tortured him.”
I lifted Aurora and pointed the sword at his neck. I braced my feet to run him through.
“Wait! I didn’t torture Oliver Maguire,” he said, his voice pitched high with fear. “And he’s not dead.”
“Bullshit,” I spat.
“He’s fine. The man you saw wasn’t him. It was an illusion.”
I flicked the end of Aurora upward, nicking his Adam’s apple before he could jerk back out of the way.
“Then where is he?” I thundered, my voice cracking with a terrible mix of all the hope, fear, grief, and guilt I’d been holding back.
“Periclase has him. Oliver Maguire is alive and not seriously hurt.”
My heart bobbed in my chest. It had to be true. Fae couldn’t lie outright to each other.
I moved the tip of my sword down to the center of his chest. “Interesting. I’ll look into that. But I can’t let you go back to the Unseelie.”
“I don’t want to, I swear,” Eldon said. “Let me go, and I’ll help you. I’ll help the Seelie.”
I regarded him for a long moment.
Knowing that my father was alive, I wanted nothing more than to go through the nearest doorway, charge into the Duergar palace with sword blazing, and bust Oliver and Nicole out. But that was the old Petra, the one who could live by her sword with hardly a thought to anything else. Such freedom was no longer mine.
“Save my father and sister, and come to our side,” I said. I noticed the end of my sword trembling, and I tightened my fist. “Give me a binding oath to guarantee you will free Oliver Maguire and my twin sister Nicole and that you will abandon the Unseelie and join our side, and I’ll let you go.”
He nodded. His entire body shuddered, with what I assumed was relief. Perhaps also defeat. He quickly spoke the words, and magic shivered through the air between us. I realized he had no power of his own left at the moment. Melusine’s charm had blasted it right out of him. It was temporary, I was sure, but so was the protection of my cuff. I needed to get this over with.
“There is another thing you should know, now that we are on the same side,” Eldon said. “Your destiny is irrevocably tied to Jasper Glasgow’s. You must be there with him if he attempts to kill Finvarra again. If you’re not, Jasper won’t survive it. His mission must be yours, too.”
I remembered Jasper lying dead on the grass of the Summerlands after a stray blow of magic had hit him. It had been a lucky shot from Eldon that wasn’t intended for Jasper at all but aimed at Melusine. Yet it had nearly killed Jasper. I couldn’t explain it, but in my heart, I knew Eldon was right. I had to be there with Jasper when he went after Finvarra again. Otherwise, Jasper would die.
I reached into a pocket and pulled out Melusine’s note. When I tossed it onto his thigh, he flinched.
“That’s for you,” I said. I flicked Aurora at him. “Now go, before I change my mind.”
He rose, brushed himself off, and walked past me through the hole in the wall. He had to duck to get through. I followed him out.
“Let him pass,” I called to Maxen. To the Dobhar, I said, “Escort him to a doorway, and make sure no harm comes to him.”
Maxen looked at me agape, his blue eyes incredulous.
“We have an arrangement,” was all I said in explanation.
My head spun. I pitched to one side and stuck out an arm to catch myself on the wall. Everything was reeling.
“Petra?” Maxen’s blue-eyed concern appeared in my field of vision.
I could barely breathe. “Oliver’s alive. He’s okay, but he’s still in the Duergar kingdom. Eldon promised to free Oliver and Nicole.”
Maxen’s hands came up to cover his face for several seconds, and when he finally dropped them, his eyes were watery with relief and gratitude.
“Thank the gods,” he whispered. He looked off down the hall and swallowed a few times, clearly trying to compose himself.
“Oliver will take care of her,” I said.
He just nodded.
“Eldon also promised to abandon the Unseelie,” I said.
Maxen looked at me with surprise. “That’s great news.”
I pushed away from the wall and took a long, steadying breath. “We need to finish clearing the fortress. Now it’s just a matter of getting rid of the Duergar soldiers. Periclase won’t come back here with Eldon out of the picture. He won’t risk himself.”
Just then, Shane appeared around a corner. He was running, leading a group of New Garg soldiers. They skidded to a halt and stared at the hole in the wall. Shane looked at Maxen expectantly, but instead of speaking, Maxen turned to me.
“Eldon is gone,” I said. I lifted my chin and surveyed the haggard-looking men and women who’d followed Shane. They were peering at me as Shane had, with uncertainty, some with deep hostility. I pretended I didn’t see the anger. I’d have to deal with it later, though. “Let’s get the rest of the Duergar assholes out of here and take our fortress back.”
Shane gave me a quick salute. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
In spite of the way he addressed me, I could see apprehension in his eyes. I hadn’t completely won him over yet.
He turned to the soldiers and began giving instructions. I let him take charge, as he was better suited to be giving orders to the fighters.
Maxen gestured to the right with his borrowed short sword. “Let’s make sure the rest of this floor is clear,” he said to me.
I gave him a grim smile, and we set off side-by-side.
For the next few hours, hunting down and eliminating every Duergar left in the fortress was our sole mission. I got lost in the physicality of the fight, letting thoughts of Oliver fade to the background. Swinging Aurora, focusing on the kills, and exhausting my muscles was a welcome escape.
But after the Duergar were gone and we’d cleaned up the mess and only Carraig Sidhe remained in the fortress, the real challenge would begin. I would have to win over my people.
Chapter 8
ONCE THE DUERGAR soldiers had been eliminated, there was a lull in the fortress as everyone seemed to draw a collective breath, assess casualties, and take stock of the state of the place.
But the moment of peace didn’t last long.
Queen Vida’s swordspeople were about to depart. I was standing in the foyer of the fortress, speaking to one of the Sylph women, when I saw a knot of Carraig approaching out of the corner of my eye.
Raleigh, who’d been head of Marisol’s security and was the only New Garg larger than my father, led the group.
My gut tightened as I sensed a challenge coming. I quickly ended my conversation with the Sylph and went to meet Raleigh.
Maxen was by the counter connected to the room where incoming messages were sorted and held for their recipients. He was attempting to sift through what’d been missed during his imprisonment, looking for anything vital that was intended for him. He noticed Raleigh’s group striding in, too, but Maxen stayed where he was. I preferred it that way. I had to prove myself on my own. Not that Maxen would have come to my defense necessarily. He seemed to have accepted that I was Queen, but we hadn’t really gone much beyond that.
Raleigh pulled up in front of me and took a wide stance. He, apparently, was not ready to accept me as his monarch. There was no bow. No dip of the head. None of the usual deferential things Fae were supposed to do when approaching their ruler.
Beyond his massive shoulders, about two dozen Carraig stopped too, and stood glaring at me. All were armed. A couple even had their swords drawn and held them loosely at their sides.
With his eyes locked on mine, Raleigh reached back and drew his own broadsword from his back scabbard. He took a menacing step toward me and lifted the sword, pointing it straight at my chest. Four feet of space separated the end of his blade from my sternum. I didn’t flinch or reach for my weapon.
“I publicly denounce you as a traitor,” he said, his deep voice ringing out. “You are charged with the treasonous murder of Marisol Lothlorien. The
punishment for treason is death.”
He really did want me dead. I could see it in his eyes. I’d killed the woman he’d served for a lifetime, and there was no room in his mind for any outcome except my execution.
His people drew their weapons and fanned out in a semicircle.
Maxen came up quietly behind me, stopping just beyond my left shoulder. “You don’t have the authority to make that charge, Raleigh,” he said, stating it simply as fact. “My mother is gone, but her absence doesn’t leave you in charge. By the High King Oberon’s decree, Petra Maguire is your queen. But you already knew that. Now you’ve drawn your sword against your queen. She could have you executed for this transgression.”
Raleigh’s eyes flicked to Maxen. The big man’s fingers shifted on his sword’s handle. He’d clearly been amped up for a fight and wasn’t sure how to react to the little speech. He hated me, but he still had love for Maxen, and Maxen’s words were making Raleigh hesitate.
I quickly weighed my options. I could kill Raleigh. He was huge and strong as an ox, but he was more bodyguard than swordsman. I was faster, and my skills far exceeded his. He hadn’t even formed stone armor. I could run him through with Aurora before he drew enough magic to flood it over his skin.
I wanted to be merciful. But I couldn’t be stupid.
In the space between breaths, I drew Aurora, pushed magic into the sword, and lunged. The colors of dawn flared, and then a bellowing scream filled the foyer. Raleigh fell to his knees, hunching over as he cradled one arm. Blood gushed down his knees and onto the floor, blending with the spray of crimson that had already splattered the tiles when I dealt my blow.
I’d cut off his sword arm just below the elbow.
His people stood there, stunned. Most of them stared at the severed arm, the hand still loosely holding Raleigh’s sword, that lay oozing blood.
There was a strangled cry, and one of the New Gargs charged me. In two quick moves, I batted his blade to the side and cracked Aurora across his knuckles. He dropped his sword. I stabbed him through the shoulder. It wasn’t a mortal wound.