by Alexia Purdy
“Where is everyone?”
Chapter Fourteen
Prince Ursad
“THEY’VE ALL ABANDONED me.” Ursad’s voice cracked as he lifted an aged wooden chalice of berry wine to his lips. It stained them a dusty pink, enough to make him look almost alive under his withering pallor. He was quite drunk, a state he’d indulged in often as of late. “When I betrayed Shade for you, my dear Father, they all left… my servants… my guards… all of them walked away, through the iron gates, to leave me to my desolation.” He lifted the chalice once more, splashing fat droplets from it. They trickled over the side, staining the intricate carpet at his feet. He paid no mind and instead lifted the cup to salute Corb. “Here’s to you, Father. A kingdom falls at your feet once more, just the way you’ve always wanted.”
Corb marched over angrily and swiped the goblet from Ursad’s hands, the berry fluid marking a poor old upholstered chair which had seen better days. The entire place was aging, faster than it should have been. Maybe it was a result of Ursad’s lack of caring. His miserable state had seeped into his surroundings, draining the life from the walls and furniture.
“You fool. Always so pathetic. You could never run a kingdom properly. That witch ruined you the moment she cursed you with ugliness. Your soul is withering from your weakness. How you ever could’ve been my son, a true prince of Faerie, is unfortunate. Get yourself together.”
“Or what, Father? I’m at your bloody service….” Ursad sat up. His long silver hair, unkempt and slightly ragged, fell over his shoulders and into his face. He shoved at it to get out of his eyes and tossed a nasty glare in Corb’s direction. “You always take what you want. Never give. Did you save me when she cursed me? No. You left me to rot even then. What’s so different now? Or do you need something else? What is it now, Your Grace?” He stumbled over to pick up the chalice from the floor, mumbling about finding more berry wine and traitorous servants. He wobbled precariously over to the bar lining one side of the room where he clinked the glass jugs clumsily together as he poured himself a new drink.
“That’s enough wine for now.” Corb was at his side in a flash and snatched the drink from his grip. “I need you with your wits intact. Where can I find Camulus?”
“Why would you need him? He’s off somewhere, I don’t know.” He waved his hands in the air, his brilliant green eyes glazing over toward the oversized windows taking over one entire wall of the room. The long drapes of fabric which kept the light out were not drawn, and the setting sun peered over the treetops like an accusing eye.
“Summon him. We need his gift to take us to Shade. Now.”
At the mention of Shade, Ursad sobered up, shifting his hard stare back to Corb. He glanced at Kilara for a moment, a sense of dread filling his features. So this is what it all comes to.
“What has become of Shade?” Ursad’s voice was steady but low, as though speaking louder would be sacrilege.
“She’s imprisoned in the Withering Palace again, sent to rescue Rowan, the Spring Ancient. If we don’t retrieve them soon, we’ll be forced to destroy the palace with them inside.”
“No!” Ursad gasped, stumbling back until he fell against a sofa and sank pitifully down into it, exasperated. “Is she all right?”
“We don’t know. Our connection to Rowan would’ve told us that, but there’s been a complication.”
“What complication?”
Kilara and Corb exchanged stiff looks, but didn’t answer his question. “Where is Camulus? We need him now, Ursad. Enough wasting our time.”
“I’ll get him.” Ursad pulled a small blue orb from his pants pocket and rubbed it in his palms. It began to turn a soft, milky white, and he brought it to his lips. “Camulus, return to the Glass Castle immediately. Shade needs you.”
A whirling flash of lights shot through the room, sending curtains and candelabras flying. Corb didn’t move from his position and waited patiently as Kilara shifted behind him to shield herself from the blast of tropic air surrounding the Elven-Pixie, now standing but two feet from Ursad in the room.
“You summoned me, M’Lord?” He bowed and straightened, eyeing the two Ancients with contempt before focusing on Ursad. He knew who these strangers were; they reeked of old magic. “Where can I find Shade?”
“You will take us to the Withering Palace first. Then we will join our forces with the Seelie troops there, on the outskirts of the Unseelie territory. We’ll then see what needs to be done to rescue her and Rowan.”
“But I can extract her right away if needed….”Camulus started.
“No.” Kilara snapped. She strangled down her impatience. “We need Rowan, too. Do not go near the Unseelie palace until you’re told to, halfling.” Her eyes burned with a temper floating underneath them, wicked and unrelenting.
Camulus clenched his jaw tight, not looking at all pleased. His reluctance never surfaced to his face, but he felt it like a stone sitting in the pit of his stomach. He hated helping the Ancients, especially since Corb had made him betray Shade and Dylan. It was unforgivable, and it ate away at him every day, even with Shade’s forgiveness.
He turned toward Ursad for further reassurance. “Very well. Are you coming along, Prince Lotinar?”
Ursad nodded, grabbing his coat off one of the sofas and slipping it on as he sobered up and slowly approached. “Yes. I won’t let her down again, ever.”
This made Camulus smile, his eyes shining with a faint hope as he gripped onto Ursad’s wrist and held out the other for Kilara to hold. “You must hold on tightly. Don’t let go, or you’ll be thrown into oblivion.” He smiled wickedly as he said this. His orange fire eyes twinkled, making Kilara grab onto his wrist instead of the other way around, digging her nails into his skin. But she wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing him grimace. He let the pain etch itself into his arm, welcoming it. Punishment was good.
“I know how it goes.” Kilara hissed.
Corb took Ursad’s other wrist and clasped Kilara’s, throwing her a warning look.
“Ready.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Unseelie Woods
THE LOOSE TREE bark crumbled under his fingertips as he glared across the valley to the other side where the mountains crested up toward the sky and the scenery was marred by the massive scar of the Withering Palace jutting out from the treetops. Ursad studied the dark stones of the walls and wondered how far up it was to scale the sides. They were impenetrable, slick and steep, with no way in or out but the massive gates at the base of the mountain. The intricate doors rarely opened but to let the large Unseelie armies in or out. Black smoke smothered the skies above the castle, making it permanent midnight under the dirty pollution of dark magic.
It made him wonder how the Land of Faerie could tolerate such disruption of its beauty. This was Unseelie territory, specifically claimed by the treacherous faeries themselves. Like anything beautiful in the world, there was always a corresponding ugliness to counter it. Ursad knew all too well about beauty and ugliness.
“Shade will pull through.” Dylan clasped the prince’s shoulder like an old friend. The Teleen faery gave him a curt nod before turning back toward the campfire burning in the middle of the small group. Reinforcements would be arriving any moment, and he was finishing off cooking some dinner for them. Ursad wasn’t that hungry. In fact, he felt absolutely sick to his stomach. Having Corb around didn’t help whatsoever. He had been a father in name only.
Ursad’s fury at Corb made him switch his thoughts to other matters. From how Dylan was treating him, he knew Shade had already forgiven him and Camulus for tricking them and leaving them at the Great Divide. Even so, his guilt was still eating away at him like a cancer. It added to the dark cloud hanging over his head that never seemed to quite dissipate. He hoped Shade was okay, imprisoned in Withering Palace. The place gave him the creeps, and he could feel the very edges of its dark magic, as if it was burrowing spectral eyes into him from afar. He’d tried to shake the dreariness, but
it clung to him and wouldn’t come off.
A rustle nearby made him turn to find Camulus approaching. “This waiting is the devil, isn’t it, M’Lord?” The Elven-Pixie looked somber, too. His fire orange eyes didn’t have their usual spark to them. His loyal servant and friend had never left him, even when he’d probably wanted to. For that, he’d be forever indebted to him, no matter what happened after today.
Ursad nodded sadly, flicking his eyes back to the scar on the mountains which was the Unseelie dwelling. “Unfortunately, the Ancients don’t like to be defied. Especially my father, as you already know. I haven’t any idea about the woman with him, but she looks pretty dangerous, too. Most likely another one those Ancient faeries, like my father. As if one wasn’t enough.” He guffawed, almost choking on his spit. His head ached from the pressure of the situation. Rubbing his temples as he leaned on the tree, he wondered if it would soon be over, for better or worse. “If only there was a way to find Shade and bring her back without risking their tempers and our lives with the Unseelie.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll get her.”
“Her brother is in there, too, you know,” Dylan interceded. He handed a cup of coffee to Ursad, who looked like he needed it badly, nursing his hangover. “And the other Ancient misfit, Rowan. You can’t retrieve her without them. Shade wouldn’t allow it and would never come back unless she knew they were safe.” Dylan watched him down the coffee and replaced it with a plate of rabbit meat and fruit. Ursad thanked him and began to munch joylessly on the meal. He didn’t eat to satiate any hunger, but he knew he’d need his strength for whatever was to come. It worked quickly; healing magic was laced throughout the food and drink, making him feel renewed after he’d finished.
“What if we can get them all out?” Camulus had his arms crossed, staring intently at the castle in the distance.
“I’m pretty sure it’s well guarded, and it won’t be easy to get in or out.” Dylan took a deep breath and scrunched up his face. “But we do have you, Camulus. Secret weapon number one.”
“We need a plan, in case Corb and Kilara don’t get it together and extract them in time.” Camulus was looking hopeful as he waited for Dylan to respond. “Your call, Dylan. You know Shade better than any of us put together. What do you think she’d want?”
Dylan nodded, reaching down to rub the ring on his finger. He could feel her near. She wasn’t in any distress, much to his relief. It was reassuring to have this connection with her, but the situation still felt off, not quite in balance. He hoped their bond wasn’t dulled by the Unseelie powers surrounding the palace. “We go in and get all three of them after nightfall. If Corb and Kilara won’t act until near morning, when they will surely destroy the palace, we should have time. I just don’t see them waiting for anyone to escape. I have a feeling Shade, Benton and Rowan aren’t as important to them as they are to us. We’ll act in the cloak of night.”
Ursad nodded, knowing full well that he might have to join them in the retrieval team inside the castle. He didn’t like the idea—he wasn’t trained for such things, even though he was proficient with a sword. Yet if he could repent to Shade for all his betrayals, he would do it. He needed to make things right and kill the darkness that had been gnawing at him from the inside out ever since he’d betrayed her. So many mistakes had been made, and so many things could still go wrong. Still, nothing was going to stop him from going in there with—as mortals would say—guns ablazin’. In their case, it would not be guns, but magic, metal and blood.
With a new determination, he resolved to do what was needed for this mission. He turned toward Dylan, his green eyes shining brilliantly in the afternoon sun with nothing but a calm focus.
“I’ll be ready.”
Chapter Sixteen
Blessed of Faerie
THE LAST DROP of water landed on her parched tongue, the grimy cup empty and hollow as she tried to stir up her water magic and fill it. They’d served just one swallow’s worth hours before, and it hadn’t lasted. The enchanted chains strangled her attempts to perform magic, and she tossed the cup across the dingy cell floor, frustrated to no end. Shade was starving and hoped Benton would be able to get them some food soon. What good would it be if she starved before they got anything done? She sighed, hugging her knees and peeking over toward Rowan, who was already impersonating a skeleton rather well. She looked like she could keel over and die any moment. It made Shade wonder if the Ancients could even die of hunger, like she could. Kilara had been asleep for centuries without food, so she doubted it. Plus, she never really observed them eating or drinking, so maybe it wasn’t a vital requirement for them.
Digging at the dirt caked under her fingernails, she licked her parched lips. She couldn’t resist throwing a glance every now and then at the huddled figure across the room. Rowan was asleep, curled up under a thinly woven shawl she’d wrapped around her rail-thin body. It hugged her bones and probably did little to stifle the chill of night radiating from the barred window. So childlike laying there, anyone could feel a sort of responsibility for the girl. Woman? Shade wasn’t quite sure. Rowan reminded her of the stories of child vampires who never aged, but also never grew up, forever frozen in a state of unblemished beauty and uninhibited blood cravings.
The thought chilled her to the bone, and she pulled at the sleeves of her hoodie to cover her fingers, hugging it snugly to her body. Night was approaching, bringing cool mountain air drifting in through the window as the dusk swallowed the last of the tangerine rays of light. Torches lit the hall outside the door, but it was quite dark in the cell, without any illumination to provide comfort.
Shade sifted through the mess of debris on the floor of the cell. It was rank, and the smell of stale urine lingered in the air. There was an old chamber pot sitting in the corner by the window, where it could air out, but she was betting it had needed emptying for too many days to count. She wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t looking forward to using it.
Finding what she needed, she scooted back against the wall and dusted off the small stone she’d uncovered in the layer of earth lining the corners of the cell. She smiled widely, excited for such a small thing. Cupping it in her palms, she rubbed it softly and sent her magic into it, hoping some would seep past the restraints. A faint luminescent glow seeped from between her fingers, and she uncovered the newly made light stone. It was weak but slowly fed off the tiny thread of magic slithering into it.
Best trick ever! The room lit up under its eerie glow, and she placed it in the middle of the floor, feeling better now that she could see what she was doing. A rustling across from her made her flick her eyes up to find Rowan, wide-eyed and looking shocked, horror etched on her face.
“The light’ll draw ‘em here! Put it out!” She dropped her shawl over the stone, and darkness engulfed them once more.
“What the…? What are you talking about? No one’s here! We’ve been locked in and forgotten.” Shade slumped back, annoyed by Rowan’s crazy antics. She seriously needed some psychiatric therapy.
“Ya don’t know anythin’.” She sniffed the air and listened as if something was coming. ”Da Darklings’ll come. Dey seep thru windas an suck yer soul dry.” She jumped up to the barred window and scanned the horizon like a spooked animal. Her deep Irish-like accent was thick, and Shade had to concentrate to decipher her words.
Darklings? Seriously?
“See? Nothing’s happening.” Shade crossed her arms, wanting to jut out her bottom lip, but bit down on it instead. There was no convincing this one.
Settling back down, Rowan swiped her shawl off the now-dormant stone and wrapped it tightly around her body once more. “Ya don’ know much, do ya?”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry. I don’t. So tell me, Miss Ancient. What do you know that I don’t? You’re an Ancient for crying out loud. Why are you even here? You can waltz right out and break free if you wanted to. Why don’t you just go and rescue us yourself?” Shade’s anger shot up, and she felt as though her head was
going to explode. Seeing spots in her vision, she groaned, waiting for an answer. Only silence came from the other side of the dark room.
The walls shifted slightly, and she rubbed at her eyes, not sure if it was just the lack of food or something else. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.
Shade shivered and pulled her hoodie around tighter. The Darkling mark prickled on her forearm, but she refused to look at it. She knew what it meant. Rowan was right, there were other Darklings around here, that was a certainty. Maybe they’d stay away from her now that she was partly one. Nonetheless, in darkness they’d remain. There was no use in pushing the issue further.
A jingle echoed across the room, and the doorknob wiggled to life. It shook, sending them both turning their heads toward the door. Shade scrambled to her feet, ready to fight if she had to. Instead, a guard walked in, eyeing them both in the now-lit room, torchlight pouring in through the doorway. Hopefully that won’t bring anything unwanted from the outside darkness either, Shade thought. She prayed this guard would be brief.
He placed a tray on the floor, stacked with two plates, two cups and several stacks of bread and whatever else was piled onto the plates. He turned toward Shade and winked a familiar brown eye before twirling around and leaving just as quickly as he had come.
Benton.
His magic had slipped out for a moment, touching hers softly, a tiny comforting aura that patted her on the head like he was the older one. She wanted to bunt his shoulder for it but kept her arms at her sides. Just as quick as the magic had touched her, he clasped his glamour back around it, reining it in like a wild creature. It was enough to let her know who he was, and her heart jumped, elated and hopeful. He’d brought food and water, just on time, too. She dropped to the floor and shoved a soft loaf of bread into her mouth, making sure to leave half of the food for Rowan before settling back against the wall with her cup of water and food. It was rather bland, but it was food. Who cared if it was tasteless?