Three abrupt raps on the door interrupt us.
“You Majesty,” Malaki calls through the door, “Galleghar has been spotted.”
It has to be another trap.
That’s what I think when I sit in the throne room next to Des, a strange fae creature standing before us.
“I ssssaw him. The oooold king.” The fae can barely speak coherent words out of its misshapen mouth. Its skin is the color of a bruise, its eyes are reptilian, and its body is thin and hunched.
I have no clue what creature this is, only that I’ve seen it before in one of Des’s sketches.
Des leans his chin on a hand, his pointer finger tapping against his cheek. “Where?”
“Barrrrbooosssss.”
My skin brightens.
“Are you working for him?” I ask, glamour dripping from my words. I don’t want a replay of the last time we learned of Galleghar’s whereabouts.
“Nooooo.”
“Does he know you’ve spotted him?”
“Nooooo.”
The Night King stops tapping his cheek. “What else do you know?”
That strange mouth twists. “He hidessss in the wildssss, in the tunnelsssss oooof ooooold. Many hellllp him. They willlll killlll any whoooo harm the ooooold king.”
“Why do they help him?” I ask.
“Theirrrr mindssss belooong toooo anooootherrr.”
I still in my seat.
Des stands, his frame imposing. “Who?”
But we already know.
“The Thief oooof Ssssoooulssss.”
“We need to make a decision,” Malaki says once the room clears. All that’s left are him, me, Des, and a handful of guards.
Desmond glances at me. “What should we do about Galleghar?”
He’s asking me like I’m a co-ruler.
I shake my head. I don’t want to make a decision like this. This is the whole reason why I’ve been running from the idea of being a queen. It’s one thing to handle a threat or interrogate a few fairies. It’s another to make a decision with an outcome you cannot know, one that might have far-reaching consequences.
I’m about to say, I don’t know, but damnit, my pride suddenly feels like it’s on the line, and I don’t want to disappoint Des.
Actually going to make a decision on this one. Fuck.
To go after Galleghar or not?
We know where the old king is, but we knew where he was last time, and he still got the drop on us.
However, if we do take him by surprise, then this could be the beginning of the end for both Galleghar and the Thief. The two share a bond. A bond I’m eager to break.
“I think it’s time we captured your father,” I say slowly.
Des stares at me for a long moment. Ever so slowly, a wicked smile spreads across his face. “The queen has spoken.”
Barbos isn’t as I remember it.
As Des and I descend onto the island—Malaki and Temper behind us—I get my first good look at the place since I last visited. The streets we fly over are more subdued, the sights and sounds muted. The rough crowd that usually revels out here is now largely gone. Those that remain seem to be looking over their shoulders, like they’re being watched.
The whole thing gives me chills.
You’re just reading into things.
At least we weren’t ambushed en route. I held my breath through most of the journey, waiting for Galleghar to drop in and fight us. But he never appeared.
Either we’re lucky, or the enchantments are doing their job.
I can feel the spells clinging to my skin, the magic insulating me like a coat. Before we left, several of Des’s men warded Temper, Malaki, Des, and I against enemy magic. Among other things, these enchantments hide us from our opponents’ view, rendering us all but invisible to fairies like Galleghar.
As we fly inland, the city gives way to dense jungle. Here and there the trees are illuminated by the glowing lights of various fae. It doesn’t look like a frightening place, and yet somewhere in there lurks a killer king.
Can’t believe we’re doing this. All because I gave Des the go-ahead. I still expect Galleghar to manifest in front of us, or for the Thief’s sleeping soldiers to close in from all sides. Nothing ever goes according to plan; why should this?
Yet it doesn’t happen. Galleghar and what’s left of the Thief’s army stay away, and the group of us fly sedately on, the only sound the whistle of the wind against our ears.
Des begins to dive towards the land, though this patch of jungle looks like all the others. I follow his lead, descending on the thick, dark foliage until my hands and feet skim the treetops, the leaves rustling against my skin.
The tangle of dense shrubbery doesn’t leave much room to land. I watch Des, seeing the way his wings tilt around trees, and I think I get it … until my wing clips a tree branch I didn’t see.
I yelp at the sting of pain, and my wing closes up reflexively. I tumble through the trees, hitting every branch that’s ever existed. I fall to the forest floor with a plop.
Motherfucking ow.
In an instant, the Bargainer appears at my side. “You’re still the clumsiest siren I’ve ever met,” he says, extending a hand to help me up.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I mutter, taking his hand and letting him help me up
Malaki drops down next to me, Temper in his arms.
“Why don’t you wake up the entire jungle while you’re at it,” my best friend says when she steps out of the fairy’s arms.
Giving Temper an annoyed glare, I dust off my battle leathers, picking branches out of my hair. At least I didn’t lose my daggers; the twin blades remain strapped to my sides, their stone hilts gleaming.
I pat a back pocket. All four of us were given a pair of iron shackles, in case we happened to get in range of Galleghar. Like my knives, my set of handcuffs is right where it ought to be.
Des’s eyes sweep over the thick foliage. “Follow me,” he says to the group.
We walk for fifteen minutes, our footsteps silent. Around us, the jungle seems to be holding its breath.
It feels like the four of us are wandering aimlessly until Des stops. He toes the earth in front of him, then with a wave of his hand, the earth in front of him clears, revealing a flat, circular stone carved with symbols in Old Fae.
He glances up at me. “We’re here.”
Turning his attention back to the stone, the King of the Night whispers an incantation under his breath. The Old Fae symbols glow emerald for a moment, then the stone slides aside, revealing another freaking hole in the ground.
What is it with this dude and holes?
“Nuh uh,” Temper says, eyeing it the same way I am. “No one said anything about a tunnel. I got claustrophobia.”
Des’s eyes briefly flick to her before landing on mine. “You can opt out too,” he tells me.
I shake my head. “I’m coming with you.”
I go where Des goes.
His eyes glitter. “Then I’ll be waiting for you at the bottom.” With that, he takes a step and drops into the earth.
“Shiit,” Temper swears behind me.
I glance at her, then Malaki. The general looks menacing in the darkness. He’s not too pleased that Temper and I are here, putting ourselves in the line of fire, but he hasn’t tried to stop either of us the way he tried last time.
Taking a breath, I sit down at the edge of the hole, dipping my feet into the darkness. My boot bangs against a ladder set into the side of the hole, and I slide my body down until I can grab the handholds.
And then I begin to descend.
I can’t say how far down I have to climb, only that when I reach the bottom of the hole, Des is there waiting for me, his form illuminated by orbs of light.
“Brave siren,” he says as I drop the last few feet to the ground.
This isn’t bravery. Bravery is facing whatever lies at the end of these tunnels.
Before I respond, I hear Malaki’s heavy weight a
s he clambers down the ladder. It’s only once I step away from the hole that the general releases his hold on the ladder and drops the rest of the way to the ground, landing heavily on the damp earth.
The general straightens, looking back up at the opening.
As if on cue, I hear angry muttering far above us, followed by the agitated pound of Temper’s feet against the ladder.
When she reaches the bottom, she hops off the ladder and glares at each one of us. “Let the record show that I am not happy about this.”
“You could’ve waited for us above,” I say.
“I’m not going to wait in some random jungle while my friends hunt a bloodthirsty king. This shit is my jam.”
Aww, she said friends, plural. Someone’s learning how to play nice with others.
Des’s eyes sweep over us, and then he turns and begins striding down one of the tunnels. How he knows which to take is beyond me.
Overhead tree roots cling to the curve of the ceiling, illuminated by orbs of light that bob along above us. Small, fae creatures scurry along the roots, one pausing to hiss at the air in our direction, like it senses something is off. But it doesn’t see us.
“What is this place?” Temper asks, staring at one of the orbs of light as it softly bounces among the tree roots.
“The Angels of Small Death used to use tunnels like these to move sensitive goods,” Malaki says, his voice rumbling.
Ironic that the authority they once hid from is now the criminal they’re after.
I glance at our surroundings with new eyes. Des and Malaki must’ve worked within these tunnels for years, moving illegal items, hoarding treasure, and hiding from the king’s men. The whole thing is so surreal to me—this place and all of the lives Des lived long before he was mine.
He was always ours, my siren says.
I stare at the Bargainer’s broad back. I know he’d say the same thing.
The tunnel seems to stretch on for an eternity, and the farther we go, the more my skin prickles. Maybe it’s the close quarters, or the darkness, or being underground—or maybe it’s the man we’re after, but something just doesn’t sit right with me.
Des stops, putting up a hand. “Galleghar is just ahead,” he breathes.
Reflexively, my hand goes to my dagger.
Des begins walking again, and mechanically, I follow him.
Up ahead the tunnel opens into a room, but I don’t see just how massive the chamber really is until we enter it. We must be beneath a hill, for the ceiling arcs high above us. It’s as big as some of the palace ballrooms I’ve been in, though this one lacks all of the beauty and refinement of those fae palaces, the walls here made of plain packed earth. It’s a room meant to store a warehouse’s worth of goods. At the moment, however, it’s mostly empty, save for a few bags of gold.
Well, a few bags of gold … and an undead king.
Across the room Galleghar sits in a throne of sorts. It’s the saddest sight, seeing him slouched in that silver chair, as though waiting to hear the grievances of an audience that never comes.
His storm-grey eyes are turbulent as they stare off into the distance, and I get a chill, looking at that nefarious face which is so similar to my mate’s.
He can’t see us. The enchantments really did work. We’re standing right in front of Galleghar, yet we’re utterly invisible to the tyrant king.
Floating in the air in front of him is a piece of unrolled parchment, and at his side is a meal—both which he appears to have forgotten about.
Is this what he does all day? Hide and ponder and plot?
My eyes move over the room again. There’s a honeycomb of entrances and exits into this chamber, and I have no idea how I’m going to figure out which one to take when we leave.
A worry for later, once Galleghar is ours.
It seems so easy. He’s right there in front of us. All we have to do is pluck him from his knock-off throne, slap a pair of iron cuffs on his wrists, and take him back to Somnia.
Maybe it would’ve played out that way, but we’ve only taken a few short steps towards him when the air around us wavers. Just as it does, I feel the enchantments dissolving away.
Pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to happen.
In an instant, Galleghar’s eyes dart to us. I catch the flicker of surprise in them, but then his face breaks out into a cold, malicious smile.
“My ill-begotten son, we meet again.”
Chapter 32
“And you brought friends,” Galleghar says casually, his eyes flicking to us.
I suddenly feel awkward standing here, like the four of us are some gang of supernatural Avengers. Only we’ve been caught with our pants down.
Not how I imagined this interaction unfolding.
Des saunters forward, slipping his hands into his pocket. “I never thought I’d see the day where you were the one living in the caves, and I the king,” he says smoothly.
Ooooh, burn.
One of Galleghar’s hands fist, but that’s his only reaction. The piece of parchment floating in front of him rolls up and sails softly onto the floor next to the bags of gold. In one of the darkened hallways leading into the room, I see a flicker of movement.
Is that Des’s darkness? Something else? It’s impossible to tell.
The undead king crosses one leg over the other, raising his eyebrows as his gaze moves over us. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to be frightened? Two slaves and a petty criminal with a title—oh, and my scheming son.”
This asshole. All his atrocities aside, he must’ve been a real prick to be around.
“How are your wings feeling?” Des asks. “Still broken?”
Galleghar stares up at him, settling deeper into his seat. “I imagine you remember the feeling. Your wings snapped like twigs beneath my touch.”
I’d almost forgotten the injury Des sustained back in the Flora Kingdom; so many terrible things happened that night.
“Your throne is cute,” the Bargainer says, continuing forward. “I gave my servant’s daughter one just like that—only I believe it was a little bigger.”
Damn. Fairies don’t fuck around with their insults.
Galleghar’s eyes narrow. I’m waiting for his retort when he disappears.
My siren surfaces in an instant, making my skin glow.
Galleghar reappears in front of Des, fist cocked. The Bargainer vanishes just as quickly, flickering into existence behind Galleghar. Des slams a booted foot into his father’s back, knocking the fairy down at my feet.
My soulmate puts a foot to his father’s throat, his hand reaching for his shackles. “Is that all the fight you have? You’re making this too easy.”
“Why fight when the odds are so unfair?” his father rasps out.
Des tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “You said yourself that we were just some lowly slaves and criminals; no match for the great Galleghar Nyx.”
A child appears in one of the doorways leading into the room, distracting me from the faceoff in front of me. The little girl looks absurdly out of place—until I see her eyes. All that anger, all that malevolence—she must be a casket child.
From the other doorways another few children appear, followed by soldiers with glazed eyes, their uniforms bloody.
Sleeping soldiers.
“You didn’t think I was talking about myself when I said the odds were unfair, did you?” Galleghar wheezes, smiling in spite of his windpipe getting slowly crushed.
Some of the children begin to bare their fangs, while others start to growl. The soldiers methodically grab their weapons.
The soldiers are coming from all directions, their bodies filling the doorways all around the room.
Des glances at the new additions, and his boot digs in a little harder. “I’d say the odds are still stacked against you, old man. But you’d only know that if you didn’t live in a cave.”
He’s referring to me and my glamour, I realize. Sleeping soldiers are nothing more than props once I use m
y magic on them.
The undead king wears a malicious smile as he stares up at his son, right before he disappears.
Galleghar manifests among the soldiers as they file into the room from all sides.
Within a minute, they form a ring around the four of us, their faces placid, their eyes eerily empty.
A scuffle and a choked sound come from one of the soldiers behind me. I turn just in time to see a bloody sword impaled through the fairy’s abdomen. A second later, it’s jerked out the way it came, making a wet, sucking noise.
The bleeding soldier teeters for a few seconds, then topples forward. In the darkened doorway beyond the dying fairy, a form steps out, his body rapidly brightening by the second until all I can see is a sphere of light.
When it dims again, I’m left staring at the King of Day.
Didn’t know he was invited to the party. Apparently, Des called in his ally’s help.
“I heard the Night Kingdom had a vermin problem,” Janus says. His eyes alight on Galleghar. “Ah. There’s the rat himself.”
My mate’s face remains impassive, even as he steps up to my side.
Galleghar’s eyes narrow. “Did you come here to kill me too?”
“Well, I didn’t come for the weather,” Janus replies.
Blood still drips from his sword as he strides forward, and he makes no attempt to wipe it off. He comes over to the four of us, nodding to Des, then Malaki and Temper. Temper, for her part, eyes him up and down like he’s lunch.
When Janus’s eyes land on me, he bows. “Lady, you have my sword and shield.”
My lips part in surprise. I’d assumed the Day King came here because he and Des were allies, but perhaps that’s not the reason.
Janus swore his fealty to me not so long ago; perhaps Des told him of our plan, perhaps this is him upholding his oath.
The soldiers make no move to retaliate for the death of their comrade; they just continue to watch us with that same, stoic expressions.
Galleghar studies Janus for another moment, then his eyes are drawn to me. My skin still glows, and the longer he looks at me, the more intrigued he appears.
“Slave,” he murmurs. Louder, he says, “I have a message for you—”
A heavy hand falls on Galleghar’s shoulder. “Enough,” the soldier behind him says.
Dark Harmony (The Bargainer Book 3) Page 25