The Rise of Fortune and Fury

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The Rise of Fortune and Fury Page 2

by Sawyer Bennett


  I know this because I’m currently in a dungeon, and those just don’t come standard in modern America.

  When Pyke brought me down to the dungeon, I took note of the carvings in the crown moldings, the stone staircases, and other little details such as period-dated doorknobs and hinges. I wasn’t a history buff by any means, but the home we’re in just reeks of something older than the modern era, and the existing decor and architecture seems old European.

  Regardless, the dungeon is the giveaway. It’s complete with a natural stone floor, crumbling hand-made bricks, and what looks like decades of mold and slime on parts of the walls. It’s here that Pyke cuffed me to the spike in the wall from which a short, thick chain hangs.

  Thankfully, the spike is a few feet off the ground, which affords me the ability to sit when my legs get tired. I’m also grateful that he recuffed my hands so they are now in front of me. When I plop onto the cold, damp floor, my butt starts feeling all kinds of numb given the chill down here.

  I’m confident I can easily get out of the restraints using my magic, but it’s a secret I’m not willing to give up just yet. The element of surprise—springing my powers on Kymaris or Pyke—is far more important than getting out of these cuffs right now.

  I figure I’m not in imminent danger of dying. Pyke and Kymaris want the Blood Stone, and they’re going to arrange a trade with Carrick. They had discussed this very thing in my presence, then Kymaris ordered Pyke to bring me here. I could tell by her immediate dismissal of me as a threat that she had no use for me in her presence. She is still utterly clueless that I have the ability to stop her, and I intend to keep it that way.

  As for this supposed trade, I’m not sure how I feel about it. If Carrick keeps the Blood Stone, he could avert the prophecy, but I would most likely die at the hands of Kymaris’ fury. While I might be willing to sacrifice myself for the good of the world, I know Carrick won’t put me in mortal danger, so I’m assuming he’s going to give it up.

  Part of me is relieved by that because I’m not ready to be done with this life or him. I immediately feel guilty for that internal admission, but I can’t help it. I’ve found the greatest gift any human could ever wish for in Carrick, and damn it… I’m feeling a bit selfish.

  Regardless, I know the decision is out of my hands. Carrick is going to do what he thinks is best, which I’m sure means a trade.

  Until then, I just have to keep my head down, try not to piss Kymaris off if we have another run-in, and use my time down here to start forming a strategic plan.

  We’re going to need one if Kymaris gets the Blood Stone since that makes her ability to carry out the ritual a certainty.

  Somewhere above me, a door screeches as it’s opened, and heavy footsteps come down the stone staircase that leads to the dungeon.

  Pyke comes into view, carrying a tray laden with food and a glass of water.

  “I assume you’re hungry,” he says as he squats before me. I’d kicked my legs out so I could lean against the wall to the side of the spike embedded in it. For a moment, I wonder if I could magic the tip out of the wall and thrust it into his heart.

  I’m pretty confident I could make my magic do that, but I have no clue if the spike is made of iron. It could be a futile effort, and then my secret would be revealed.

  Instead, I give him a grateful nod. My voice is small and puny, my hope being that he’ll think me weak and dejected. “Yeah… I’m hungry.”

  Leaning forward, Pyke places the tray on my lap and straightens. The cuffs on my wrist allow enough room for me to pick up the spoon on the tray and dip it into what looks like beef stew.

  I ignore him in favor of the food, figuring if they were going to kill me, it wouldn’t be by poison. The first spoonful is lukewarm at best and, by taste, I can clearly tell it’s from a can. But I want to keep my strength up, so after I chew and swallow, I take another spoonful.

  It’s after that one goes down that I ask Pyke, “So… are you going to tell me how you got paired up with Kymaris?”

  It happens so fast, my head spins and my stomach lurches, but the chains disappear. I’m not on the floor anymore but rather sitting at a table with the bowl of stew before me. Pyke is on the opposite side, sitting in a chair.

  “More comfortable?” he asks.

  I nod without hesitation. Far more comfortable.

  Pyke nods at the bowl. “Eat up, and I’ll tell you a story.”

  “Hope it’s a good one,” I mutter, and Pyke actually laughs. The spoon is still in my hand, so I dip it back into the stew as he starts to talk.

  “I’m sure Carrick has told you enough about me for you to realize I’m a bit of an adventurer. Time in Faere moves slowly, and I’m easily bored.”

  I swallow the food in my mouth. “He said you fought alongside him in many battles.”

  “Indeed,” Pyke agrees with a fond expression. “But more so than the boredom of Faere, I was quite lonely. Being the Light Fae prince means no one is ever quite up to par, and while dalliances with all the fae ladies in the realm were fun, I was searching for more.”

  I frown. “You mean… love?”

  Pyke shrugs. “I wouldn’t have put that word on it at first, but I was searching for something missing within me. That emptiness was filled when I met Kymaris.”

  My spoon remains poised over the bowl, but I’m too shocked by this revelation to even think about eating. “But how? How would you have met her?”

  Pyke’s gaze moves from me to the staircase that leads up as if he’s pondering whether he should tell me or if he should just leave. Luckily, a Light Fae’s vanity and ego tend to rule the day, and since he—like Kymaris—considers me no threat, I can tell the moment he decides it won’t hurt to tell me.

  Leaning forward and placing his arms on the table, he says, “I was out in the Faere countryside hunting one day. I’d stopped by a stream to rest and as I was sitting there, I noticed something shimmering in the air just on the other side of the water. It was like the air itself was rippling. The longer I watched it, the more a female shape began to take form, which made me even more curious. I crossed the creek to look closer and, as I approached the rippling air, I could see more clearly what was on the other side. It was a room done in floor-to-ceiling shiny black tile with a huge blazing fireplace. The orange light cast the figure in better relief, and I got my first look at Kymaris.”

  My eyebrows draw in. “She was in the Underworld?”

  “She was,” he says with a chuckle. “Apparently, she was poking at the veil into Faere. She had some stone magic within her, but not enough to tear it. It was enough for her to get close and peer in at her sister’s realm, and I was the first Light Fae she’d ever seen.”

  “What did you do?” I ask in almost a whisper. My food is long forgotten, so I set the spoon down.

  Pyke stares at me, a fond smile playing at his mouth. “I fell in love, of course.”

  My surprise is so great that my jaw drops.

  Pyke laughs, shaking his head. “I can only imagine how odd that sounds, but it’s true. And when we spoke, it was only minutes into our conversation that I knew it was felt from her, as well.”

  “You could speak to each other?” I ask incredulously.

  “We could,” he says with a nod. “But the veil held firm. She couldn’t cross into Faere, but it was thin enough that we could converse. We could even press our palms together against it.”

  “Unbelievable,” I mutter.

  “I thought so, and it was a secret I maintained for decades,” Pyke continues. “We met regularly at the veil between our worlds, and we fell deeper in love.”

  “Why didn’t you just open the veil for her? You have the power to do it.”

  “Yes, I do,” he agrees with a sly smile. “But Kymaris didn’t want to come to Faere. She didn’t want to risk her sister finding out. But I crossed over to visit her many times, and we became lovers.”

  I try not to grimace because not only is the thought of Pyke
and Kymaris having sex just gross, I’ve also never liked the term “lovers”. It seems cheesy.

  “Kymaris had her sights set on the Earth realm,” I say, wanting him to get moving with the story.

  “Yes, she did. It was a grand plan and one I approved of.”

  This was a no-brainer. “Let me guess… she was going to take over the Earth realm, and you would rule at her side.”

  Leaning forward just a bit more, Pyke gives me a sly smile. “Sure beats being the prince of a kingdom I’ll never rule.”

  “So, you want power?” I ask, my tone scathing with distaste.

  “Why is that a bad thing?” he asks neutrally. “But more than power, I just wanted to be by Kymaris’ side.”

  I shake my head, giving him a dubious look. “So this is really about love?”

  “Tell me love isn’t worth the fight, Finley. Tell me you wouldn’t do anything to be with Carrick. In fact, tell me you’ll forsake Carrick’s love for a good reason, and I’ll let you go right now.”

  Pyke doesn’t know our background. He doesn’t know we’ve loved each other for centuries. But he does know we have something together, and I absolutely can’t tell him I’d ever forsake that love.

  In that respect, I suppose I understand him just a little bit.

  “Did you help Kymaris come to the Earth realm?” I ask, making that the most innocuous question I can muster without giving away that I know anything at all.

  Luckily, he’s in a chatty mood. “She came up with the idea to use a changeling as a catalyst to come through the veil and increase her powers. Do you know what a changeling is?”

  I hope I look believable as I shake my head, placing a curious look on my face before lifting my spoon and dipping it for another bite.

  Pyke proceeds to tell me about the changeling ritual, which provides me no more information than I already knew except that he imbued the daemon that placed the changeling baby with powers so my parents wouldn’t notice him.

  “What happened to the baby the daemon took?” I ask, my voice slightly hoarse with a welling of emotion. I pick up the glass of water and take a sip.

  Pyke’s smile curves high, and his eyes gleam with pride. “She became a vessel to harness and transform magic.”

  Those words strike deep, and I try not to sound affected. “Harness and transform?” I ask dully.

  Pyke nods. “I stole my mother’s staff, which has the remnants of the meteor stone that she used to create Faere in it. It still holds tremendous power, and I used it to channel light magic into the vessel. Then Kymaris’ dark priests who came back to the Underworld with stone magic turned it dark.”

  My stomach rolls as I get a clearer picture of what Zora went through. That she was force-fed magic, and then something else was done to her to turn it dark.

  What did that feel like?

  Was it painful?

  It was certainly a horrible abuse.

  “This… um… vessel,” I ask, coughing again to clear my throat. “She was just a baby, right?”

  “Yup,” he says with a careless shrug. “As she grew older, she could take higher doses of magic. I’d sneak Nimeyah’s staff out of the castle, then visit the Underworld at least once a month to pump her up.”

  I want to vomit. The few bites of stew sit at the bottom of my throat, threatening to spew out. “And what did this vessel do? Was she like chained up or something?”

  “I honestly don’t remember,” Pyke replies vaguely, settling back in his chair. He crosses one leg over the other. “It’s not important, but I can tell you it tormented me because the entire time we were filling the vessel, my beloved Kymaris was in stasis.”

  I don’t respond, not able to get the image of Zora perhaps chained in a dungeon like this and being force-fed magic out of my head. As a baby… a young child… a teenager… a young woman. Her life was beyond awful.

  “Aren’t you curious what stasis means?” Pyke asks, not in a suspicious way that I didn’t ask, but more like he can’t believe I’m not enjoying his story.

  I nod, smile, and pick my spoon back up while he talks. I force the food into my mouth while he tells me all about the things I already know. I nod, ask a few questions… try to appear interested and amazed at his cunning.

  “Of course, when Carrick asked me to go on an adventure with him for the Blood Stone, I couldn’t believe the fortune that had fallen in our laps.”

  “Why not just take the Blood Stone when we came out of Micah’s realm?” I ask, my tone pissy. “You had it in your hand.”

  “It wasn’t the right time. I’m no match for Carrick, and he would have killed me had I tried to abscond with it then. Patience prevailed.”

  “You must be so proud of yourself,” I snap in sarcastic irritation.

  “Why yes, I am,” he says with a feral grin, rising from his chair. Clearly, he’s not happy with my tone. He honestly expects me to be impressed with him.

  With a wave of his hand, I’m back on the floor with my chains in place. The food, water, table, and chairs are gone.

  “Kymaris is right, you know,” Pyke says as he walks up to me, giving a light kick to the side of my leg in an almost playful manner.

  “About what?” I ask, tipping my head back to see him.

  “You’re nothing special,” he murmurs in contemplation. “We’re still a bit stumped why you’re the key to this prophecy, but it doesn’t matter. Once we get the Blood Stone, you’ll be less than nothing special.”

  I give Pyke a sweet smile. “You flatter me. But what makes you think you’ll get the Blood Stone?”

  “A message has been sent to Carrick offering you up,” Pyke says as he turns away and heads toward the staircase. “I can’t imagine he won’t jump on that, then we’ll have the Blood Stone in hand by nightfall.”

  He stops at the base of the stairs, looks over his shoulder, and smiles. “And when the new moon comes, the world is going to change for the better.”

  I don’t respond, just stare at him impassively as if his words don’t mean anything to me.

  The problem is, they mean far too much.

  CHAPTER 3

  Carrick

  Carrick wasn’t the type of man to get frantic over anything, but Finley had been gone for almost five hours, and he had not one fucking lead. He’d never felt so lost.

  After visiting Nimeyah, Carrick and Zaid returned to the condo. It wasn’t long before Maddox returned, having gotten Rainey and Myles settled into their secret hiding place. After apprising Maddox that Pyke was after the Blood Stone and had taken Finley, Carrick sent his brother off to find Deandra.

  She might have been in on it, but, more than likely, she knew nothing about what her brother had done as they were not close. Regardless, that angle had to be checked.

  After Maddox left, Carrick didn’t need to think about it much since he knew what Finley would want him to do. She would have wanted Rainey and Myles to know what happened. She had repetitively promised to keep them in the loop, and he felt they had a right to know their friend had been kidnapped.

  Carrick made the call to inform them. From wherever Maddox had taken them, they assured him they would head back to Seattle immediately. Luckily, Maddox had left his Hummer with them.

  Next, Carrick had put a call in to Titus and left a voicemail message. Regardless of what realm he was in, he would always go somewhere to check his messages a few times a day, so Carrick knew he’d be arriving before too long.

  While Carrick waited for everyone to arrive, he and Zaid sat at the kitchen island and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

  “And Pyke never gave any indication as to why he wanted the Blood Stone?” Carrick asked.

  For the third time.

  Zaid was patient, though, as he knew Carrick was furious and fearful at the same time and allowed him to work this through however he needed. “No. Only that he wanted the Blood Stone. The last thing I heard before I left was Finley telling him that you had the stone. So if he re
ally wants it, he’s going to offer Finley in return for it.”

  Carrick’s expression was grim, but he nodded in understanding. That was the most logical conclusion, and he assumed Pyke would send him a message at some point. Carrick just wished it were soon rather than later.

  “What could he possibly want with the Blood Stone?” Zaid pondered, drumming his fingertips on the countertop.

  “To have more power than his mother,” Carrick fathomed a guess. “He never did like playing prince to the queen. Felt he was always destined for something greater.”

  “I thought that was just his ego,” Zaid muttered, his distaste for the Light Fae evident.

  “It is mostly his ego,” Carrick replied with a scoffing laugh. “But he has some ambition in him. I’m wondering if the power of the Blood Stone was just too great of an opportunity to pass up.”

  “What if he wants it for gain?” Zaid suggested. “Maybe he’ll sell it to Kymaris.”

  A dark shadow swept over Carrick. “Or he’s in league with her.”

  Zaid’s eyebrows shot high. “Surely not. Pyke isn’t evil. Just ego-driven.”

  Carrick stood from his stool. “Isn’t he evil? He wants an immeasurably powerful relic and was willing to kidnap Finley—who he knows is special to me, his friend.”

  “Point taken,” Zaid murmured, but then was distracted by his phone ringing.

  He connected the call, listened, and then pulled it away from his ear to press to his chest. His face was noticeably pale. “It’s the concierge in the lobby. Kymaris is here to see you.”

  “You have to be fucking kidding me,” Carrick snarled, whipping his own phone out. With a few taps to pull up a security app, he dialed into the camera that covered the lobby all the way to the front door.

  Sure enough, Kymaris stood at the reception desk wearing a pleasant smile. She was dressed in a business suit and her glamour was that of a beautiful, sophisticated woman. She wouldn’t have caused an eyebrow to raise.

 

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