Court of Dreams (Institute of the Shadow Fae Book 4)

by C. N. Crawford

  Court of Dreams

  C.N. Crawford

  Copyright © 2019 by C.N. Crawford

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Acknowledgments

  Also by C.N. Crawford

  Chapter 1

  Any minute now, Maddan would realize that I was standing about two feet away from him, watching as he pretended to do hot yoga.

  Right now, he was sliding his hand down his leg and sticking his bum out in a half-arsed stretch. It was clear he was deriving no inner peace from this class, nor improved flexibility. Based on the angle of his gaze and the revolting bulge in his shorts, his real goal here was to stare at women’s bums.

  The sight before me was basically a living nightmare, and there were few things I’d rather do less than watch the Prince of Elfame sweat into terrycloth bands while sporting a semi. I may have survived years in the gladiator ring, but there was only so much horror one woman could handle in a lifetime.

  Sadly, I didn’t have a choice. Maddan had crucial information, and I needed to beat it out of him as soon as he stepped out the yoga studio door.

  Here was my current situation: I’d become a fugitive from the Institute, an enemy of the Shadow Fae. The knights now knew I was an angel of death. They understood that I’d hidden my true nature from them, and that I was a bit dangerous. Like, I could kill most of the earth’s population if I lost my temper. It seemed these facts vexed them.

  As a fugitive, I hadn’t slept in weeks. I’d been moving from one flat to another, snoozing only for a few minutes at a time. See, if I dreamt, they could find me.

  But even in my fevered state, I’d come up with a brilliant plan.

  I needed to prove I was one of the Shadow Fae, that I belonged in the Institute, and that they shouldn’t kill me. If I used Maddan to gather key information about the Institute’s enemies, I could demonstrate that I was still on their side. That I was still meant to fight alongside them.

  And then, I could sleep.

  I blinked, fighting fatigue. Maddan hunched over in a sad approximation of downward dog.

  Let the monster out to play….

  I bit my lip, trying to clear my thoughts. I was at the point of delirium where I’d actually started hearing voices—particularly the mocking voice of my old gladiator master, Baleros. If I figured out how to kill him, not only could I get back in the Institute’s good graces, but maybe I could silence his presence in my mind. Maddan could lead me to him, and I’d kill him. It all made perfect sense.

  My heart hammered against my ribs as I weighed my options. When I attacked the prince, I wouldn’t have any magic to work with. Not unless I wanted to unleash a set of black feathered wings and an outbreak of plague that would kill all of London.

  I stared at the ginger prince. I had only one weapon with me: a dagger strapped to my waist, just under my jersey. Maddan, on the other hand, had proper magical weapons. For one thing, he wore a lumen stone around his neck. That meant that if he got outside, into the darkness, he’d be able to leap away from me through the shadows.

  As I studied him closer, I got a better read on his magical defenses. His body shimmered with a second kind of magic—the glimmering red agony kind. If I tried to trap him in this room, around all these humans, the Prince of Elfame would take out every person in here—including a sweet-looking elderly woman in a cat T-shirt.

  Our blond teacher lifted her arms over her head. “And take a deep breath in through your nose.”

  As she spoke, my attention was still on Maddan. I’d attack him in the stairwell away from the humans, before he opened the door to the street outside. The fluorescent lights in the stairwell would stop him from leaping away.

  “And let yourself roll down, one vertebra at a time.” The instructor’s soothing voice filled the room. “And move down to your hands.”

  Maddan’s gaze was fixed straight ahead, intent on a tight pair of leggings—violet, like Ruadan’s magic.

  At the thought of him, a hollow pain opened in my chest. I hadn’t heard a word from him in weeks. He’d given me a pretty wreath, then he’d disappeared like a puff of mist in the night.

  If he wanted me dead, I couldn’t run from him forever. No one could run from the Wraith. I’d tried it once. I’d traveled miles through icy rivers. I’d woken to find Ruadan looming over me, weapons glinting. As a god of the night, sleep was his dominion. He could track me through my dreams.

  We’d had our moments, sure. He’d healed me, brought me into his bed when I’d been sleeping on the floor. We’d protected each other numerous times. We’d shagged in a sewer. But the fact was, I was half death angel, and Ruadan had sworn to kill my kind.

  The abrupt loss of him from my life felt like a jagged ravine in my chest, but I was a survivor. I could outsmart him. If I didn’t dream, he couldn’t find me. Ha! I was perfectly safe, as long as I allowed myself to slowly go insane. A brilliant plan, really, apart from the hallucinations, confusion, and complete inability to regulate my emotions.

  My little monster…. Baleros’s voice purred in the darkest hollows of my mind. Scrambling in the dirt.

  Another piercing bite of my lip, and my attention snapped back to the yoga class.

  “Exhaling out through your mouth, and let the relaxation fill your muscles.” The teacher’s voice re-centered me. “Arms into prayer pose, and … did you guys hear about the people who got the Plague?”

  Okay. This particular yoga teacher needed to work a bit on her relaxing patter. Guilt coiled through my gut at the mention of the Plague. Where the hells had it come from? I’d let out some of my death magic when I’d tried to save Ruadan at Hampton Court Palace, but I had thought it was only a tiny bit.

  “Arms over your head, and breathe out.” She smiled. “Really horrific. And I’ve heard it’s going to get worse. Like, death everywhere, all over London’s streets. And moving down gently into child’s pose, take a deep relaxing breath. But yeah, it’s, like, people bleeding from swollen glands in their necks.”

  A monster like you shouldn’t be on earth, should you? said Baleros’s voice.

  I gritted my teeth, then whispered under my breath, “Shut up, Baleros. Get out of my head.”

  “Okay, and now let your head hang, rolling down slowly,” the teacher chirped. “And some people are saying it can make your skin rot.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath as this vivid description, my body now vibrating with tension.

  Should have kept you in your cage under
the earth.

  “Get out of my head!” I failed to keep my voice down that time.

  Bollocks.

  Maddan’s attention shot to me, and the shock of understanding shone on his pale features. He pivoted, rushing through the class toward the front of the room.

  A smile curled my lips. That’s right, bitch. I’m here for you.

  I sprinted after him, weaving between the yoga students. I slammed through the door into the stairwell. Only a few moments to catch him before I lost him.

  Adrenaline sparked through my veins as the prince thundered down the stairs of the old Victorian building. I pulled my dagger from its sheath, its blade pure iron.

  Death magic beat in my chest like a raven’s wings, and I shot down the stairs right after him. He was getting too close to the exit, nearly at the door.

  Just as he reached for the handle, I snatched the back of his shirt, clenching it in a death grip.

  I braced myself for a blast of his red pain magic. It took only took a moment for the shimmering magic to explode from his body, and agony ripped through my bones and muscles. Still, I held onto his shirt tight, forcing myself to maintain my concentration with an iron will. Then, I slammed him against the wall, face-first. Lightning-fast, I rammed the iron dagger into his shoulder blade. The iron in the knife would stop him from summoning any more red magic. His scream echoed off the high ceiling.

  Pressing him firmly against the wall, I stood on my tiptoes. “Stop screaming or I’ll cut your tongue out.”

  “You’re a sadist,” he whimpered.

  “I’m a monster, and you tortured me. too, so I’m less inclined to go easy. Now keep your voice down.”

  “What do you want?” he stammered.

  “I want to know where Baleros is. He’s an enemy of the Institute.”

  “So are you.”

  My stomach dropped. Even Maddan knew about my fugitive status? “What?” He’d caught me totally off guard.

  “You’re not part of the Institute anymore,” he grunted. “So why do you care?”

  I felt unmoored, completely lost. He was getting me sidetracked, and I pressed the blade in further. “Stop distracting me. I want to know about Baleros. I know your father is working with him. Tell me where to find him or the pain will get worse.”

  Maddan groaned, thrashing to get away from me.

  I twisted the blade, eliciting another scream. “I said where is he, you worm!”

  “I don’t know!” he whined. “Baleros doesn’t trust me to know his location.”

  I narrowed my eyes. This was actually a believable claim. Baleros was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. “Tell me what you do know. What’s he planning?”

  He groaned. “Baleros is not happy that you took the mist army from him. In fact, he’s furious with you.”

  “And?”

  “Plague…” he groaned.

  “What about it?” Ruadan had captured the Unholy Grail—the artifact that held my father’s death magic. The Institute had been keeping it safe. So how could anyone spread the Plague when the magic could only come from my dad or me?

  Maddan groaned. “Ruadan, all the Shadow Fae. They’ve got the Plague. They’ll be dead within days.”

  At his words, that jagged ravine in my chest cut a little deeper.

  Chapter 2

  My blood roared in my ears. “What are you talking about? How is Baleros spreading the Plague?”

  “The Unholy Grail is in the Tower.”

  “I know that, worm.” I dug my fingernails into his shoulder. “That means it’s safe.”

  “Except that someone in the Tower knows how to unleash its magic,” he said. “Baleros’s agent infected the Shadow Fae. They don’t know there’s a traitor among them, and he’s still there.”

  My mind screamed with panic and a sense of vindication at the same time. So this had been a good idea.

  “The knights don’t know someone in the Institute has turned on them?” I asked in disbelief.

  He grunted from the pain. “They’re not even looking for a traitor. All Shadow Fae think you spread the Plague. I’m surprised you’re still alive. Why haven’t they killed you?”

  Another brief flash of vindication. I’d been right to be paranoid, to refuse sleep, to move from place to place.

  Then, the reality of the situation hit me. The knights were all dying, and they definitely wanted to kill me.

  “Who is working for Baleros? Which knight?” I hissed. “I need a name!”

  “I don’t know that!” he screeched. “And what difference does it make? It’s too late to save them.”

  My knees went weak. “What do you mean too late?”

  His face was mashed against the wall. “No one can reverse the Plague. No one except Adonis, and you don’t know where he is, do you?”

  Now Maddan was trying to get information from me. I wasn’t about to give it to him.

  In any case, I could find my father, maybe. If I could get Ruadan to open the portal and send me through into my old home.

  “A name,” I said icily.

  “I swear to the gods I don’t know that. I just know the Plague is already spreading, and you’re too late. Baleros wants to create chaos. He wants Ruadan dead so he can get the World Key. The Plague is supposed to weaken the Wraith. Then, Baleros’s agent will kill him as soon as he gets the chance. He’ll cut the key off his corpse.”

  A wild surge of protectiveness rippled through me. Maybe the Shadow Fae wanted me dead, but I had to warn Ruadan about the truth. I just needed more details.

  I pushed Maddan hard against the wall. “Tell me anything you know about the traitor. Anything at all.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t—”

  A scream from the stairs cut through the interrogation. I glanced at the elderly woman in the cat T-shirt.

  “Murderer!” she shrieked. In her panic, she dropped the yoga mat from under her arm.

  Bloody hells. I couldn’t imagine why I’d liked her earlier.

  “Stay where you are!” I shouted at her.

  I couldn’t deal with both of these screaming people at once. I had to keep Maddan pinned or he’d slip away into the shadows outside.

  Cat Lady was still screaming, her shrieks deafening me.

  Let the monster out….

  My breath sped up as I started losing control. “What’s his entire plan, Maddan?” I shouted.

  “I told you. Spread the Plague. Get the World Key. Take over the Institute.”

  “Why is he so hells-bent on doing this?”

  “Because!” Maddan shouted impatiently. “If he can open and control the worlds, he can use his power to control the demons trapped within them. He can conscript them to join his army, offering them freedom in return for their swords. He wants to rule the world. It’s not complicated.”

  Dread slid through my bones. “What else do you know?”

  “He won’t fail. Now, he has a powerful ally on his side.”

  “The person in the Institute? Who?” I barked.

  “Someone you know very well—”

  The creaking of the door made my heart skip a beat. Cat Lady had slipped past us and opened it. Maddan craned his head to look outside, into the shadows.

  It was enough. I felt the electrical rush of shadow magic from his lumen stone, the whoosh of air as he leapt past me. The knife in his shoulder blade had torn his flesh when he’d jumped. I held nothing but the gore-soaked weapon now.

  I stepped outside, onto the main road. Cat Lady was running down the pavement, screaming into her mobile phone. Maddan was nowhere to be found. Six of my mist soldiers milled around the sidewalk, but they hadn’t been able to stop Maddan’s leap.

  I loosed a sigh, rubbing a knot in my forehead. My muscles burned and dizziness clouded my thoughts.

  The Shadow Fae were all dying of the Plague—and they thought it was my fault.

  My days were numbered—but so were those of all the Shadow Fae. If I could get to Ruadan and
speak to him, maybe I could convince him of the truth. We could find my dad together. It was the only way to move forward.

  Ciara sat next to a human on a white leather sofa. His name was Jared.

  I paced in front of them, wringing my hands as I did. My body buzzed with nervous energy. I’d sent a message to the Institute, explaining clearly that I had crucial information they needed to hear. Now, I only had to wait to hear back from them.

  Jared let out a sigh, staring at me dreamily. “Amazing to have real supernaturals here.” A blond wig was draped over his wool sweater, and a set of plastic ears poked through the hair. The whole enormous room smelled of stale cigarettes, incense, and sweat. “Legally, I’m not allowed to be in a room with women unsupervised, but I don’t think the rules apply to your kind.”

  I pivoted, turning the other way. “Good to know.”

  Jared was one of those humans who had a total hard-on for the fae. He believed he was meant to be one of us, but the gods had messed it up. He was thrilled to let Ciara and me stay in his luxurious but stinking apartment for a night. Embarrassingly, he actually knew more of the Ancient Fae language than I did, and he’d started teaching me the few commands I needed to really control the mist army.

  Apart from the stench, Jared’s flat was a perfect hideout. It offered a balcony view of the Institute’s gatehouse—just on the other side of the stone courtyard. We were so close that the golden glow of the moat beamed onto his hardwood floors through his balcony windows.

  I turned to the balcony windows again, staring out. The Institute’s battlements seemed to rise from a cloud of fog, and the moat’s golden light streamed through the mist in perfect rays.