Ever Wrath (A Dark Faerie Tale #4)

by Alexia Purdy

  Until, that is, she ran right into the real Aveta.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Unseelie Queen

  “I’M GLAD I found you.” Aveta’s long black hair with violet highlights encircled her bare shoulders like a death shroud. Shade found herself holding her breath and let it out slowly, trying to find a way out of this. There was no way back, who knew where that would lead? The only way was forward, wasn’t that what Rowan had said? So what now?

  “Aveta.”

  The Queen tilted her head, her black eyes barely reflecting the torchlight, as if they were absorbing most of it. A sly smile danced on her lips as she studied Shade. There was no malice in her dark black eyes, fluid like swirling oil. At least, they didn’t seem evil to Shade, like they had so many times before. It was confusing to see her this way. What did this Unseelie queen want? Shade felt more dread creep in, and her stomach lurched. She would probably not be able to eat for weeks after absorbing the evil emanating from this forsaken place—if she ever got out. And that was a big “if.”

  “I’ve thought long and hard about Arthas’s quest to destroy the mortal world. I used to think it was what I wanted, what we faeries had been made for. It was our mission to see it through.”

  “You’ll destroy the world.”

  “Wait.” Aveta placed a finger to her lips, her wide black eyes blinking in amusement. “I’m not finished.”

  Shade pulled another sword from her pack and squeezed it in her grip, where it creaked from the pressure. Listening to Aveta was trying her patience. All she wanted to do was find her love. “Where’s Dylan?”

  The queen stared at her, confusion playing across her features. “I know not what has happened to your precious mate. Know this, though: Arthas cannot win. He cannot break these wards that hold all of Faerie intact.”

  “Where’s Dylan?”

  “Listen!” Aveta stepped forward, desperation replacing the smile as she held out a shaking hand.

  Shade was also shaking, her fear amplifying as she waited, desperate to get to Dylan and not truly willing to listen to what Aveta had to say.

  “What do you care what happens to the wards of Faerie, to the humans, to us? You helped him! You’ve destroyed it all!” She contemplated shoving past the queen but feared she’d get bested in her frantic determination. “You’re nothing but a weak pawn in his hands to do whatever he wills. Pathetic! You call yourself a queen of Faerie? You don’t even understand what you’ve done to Faerie!” Her voice shook, but she wasn’t holding back the rage that boiled under her skin.

  “I understand, Shade. But listen to me first, before you make such judgments.” Aveta’s face was reddened, but only sadness filled her eyes, mismatching the rage Shade was feeling toward her. “I’ve been forced to do so much I wouldn’t have done without him here. I am his descendant… one of seven. I can’t defy him. I don’t have but a fraction of his power. If I did, I’d be able to stop him. I’m not like you… you have full power to match your ancestor, for you’re the only descendant left in her line. The power isn’t split as mine is. You are as equal to an Ancient as anyone could ever be.”

  Nothing surprises me anymore, Shade thought. What the hell does she want from me?

  “What are you talking about?” Shade asked.

  “I’m trying to tell you that I can’t defeat him without you.”

  Well, that was unexpected.

  “Wh−what?” Shade stuttered, her mouth wide opened.

  Aveta smiled genuinely. It was an odd and foreign thing which Shade had never seen her do. “Yes, halfling. For once, we are not at odds on our quests, but allies in our mutual goals.”

  “He’s your ancestor! You’re betraying him.” Why am I defending him? Shade shook her head, feeling silly. “How can you say that? Why would I ever trust you?”

  “Circumstances change such trifling things as what side you’re on, don’t they?” With that, Aveta pulled a vial out from her dress. “I need a drop of your blood and mine. With this potion, we can give him eternal sleep, bind him once more. But I can’t give it to him myself.”

  “What good is it, then?”

  Aveta frowned, her patience also failing. “You must use your powers to douse him with it. Use your air magic and swirl it around him, onto every part of his skin you can get. Once he breathes it in, he’ll be incapacitated and ready to seal in an eternal slumber once more.”

  “And why would you help me do that, Aveta? You’re on his side. Your army killed my family. My grandmother, my father and my mother! Why would I ever help you do anything?”

  “Blurred is the way of magic, dear Shade. Faeries are not meant to leave the Land of Faerie. I only wanted to rule Faerie, not the mortal world. I cannot have him desecrate our land in such ways. It will kill the land until Faerie is nothing but soot and ash. I will have nothing left but the wretched human’s lands to rule. That must never happen. It’s sacrilege to desecrate Faerie.”

  “Doesn’t sound that bad.” Shade rolled her eyes at the Unseelie queen, not willing to fall for anything the woman said.

  Aveta grabbed Shade’s wrist, the one Arthas had nearly broken, and hissed in her face. “You have no respect for such things. This I know, mortal. But hear this… you must heed what I say, or we all die, including your precious Dylan and your cherished siblings. Nothing will be left for any of us.”

  Shade’s sneer melted from her face at the mention of her fiancé and her family. “Don’t say his name… and don’t ever speak of them to me.”

  “He will die. His line will die. All of us will die. It’s a death sentence to break the wards of Faerie, and Arthas knows this. But he doesn’t care or probably wants to die, and he wants all of us to join him. I can’t have this. You give me your word you’ll do this. You must, or we are all done. Give me your blood.”

  Shade was stunned enough to not pull away as the queen handed her the vial filled with black, inky poison and continued to hold her injured wrist. Shade cradled the bottle in her free hand and winced as Aveta made a small cut on her finger. Taking the bottle back once more, she uncorked it and let a tiny bead of blood on Shade’s finger drop into the vial.

  She then cut her own finger and did the same with her blood, swirling it around to mix, and sealed it. After corking it, a thrilled, satisfied smile played on her face, which brightened her features once more.

  “There. It’s done. Now….” Aveta held out the bottle and Shade slipped her fingers around its cool, simple exterior. It hummed with concentrated magic, enough to make Shade’s head swim. “Save Faerie, and we can resume our differences later. We ally for now.” Aveta turned away and swished her long dark red skirts down the hall and out of sight, leaving Shade alone and in utter disbelief.

  “Did that just happen?” She watched the fluid waver inside the dark green glass. It whispered magic to her, and she pushed it away as she peered about. Which way now? Which way to Arthas? Where could Dylan be?

  A memory flickered, and she remembered she had been trying to summon Camulus with the orb he’d given her. Had he taken Dylan? Had he even come when she needed him? If he had, why had he left her there? Why hadn’t he returned to take her away?

  Leaning against the wall, her weariness reminded her of her very fragile mortality. Every little ache amplified as she thought about it, making her wish she had some aspirin or something for the throbbing in her bones and the small headache growing behind her eyes. Faerie healing potions would be quite delightful right about now. She focused some healing in those parts, and the searing pain slowly ebbed away but not nearly enough. She was exhausting her magic rapidly. She prayed she’d have enough to face Arthas.

  How much longer until this is over for good?

  She gulped down her fear as she checked the cork on the bottle and tossed it into her pack, tying the end closed. It will never end, will it?

  She jumped, flicking her eyes around her, but nothing came. Something was here, though, watching her and waiting. Why couldn’t sh
e see anything? Echoes of screams and soldiers sounded off but were too far to be close enough to throw her senses into full alert.

  Your Dylan is gone. He left with the green man.

  What? Who said that? Shade thought, peering around for the source of the voice.

  Dylan is safe. He’s not here anymore. The green man took him.

  Shade spun around, and the breathy voice faded again. She stared at a stone wall and it dawned on her. Lana had never told her that the Withering Palace was alive. She’d never mentioned it in anything she’d taught her about the Unseelie. How could a place be alive? How could it be speaking to her, right into her head as if it were standing right in front of her?

  Of course, the Land of Faerie was alive. Why would a castle in Faerie be any different?

  She wondered if the Scren Palace was also alive. She’d be sure to pay more attention to it the next time she was there.

  If I ever get back home, Shade thought. Thinking of Anna, James and Benton made her choke up, but she brushed the tears away. She had to focus, had to get this done. If Aveta was lying, she’d find out soon enough. What other choice was there? She had to find out if she really had what it took to take down Arthas.

  Aveta would have to wait for another day.

  Still, why would the Withering Palace be helping me now?

  Our Queen commands it.

  Shade laughed out loud. Her voice echoed down the hall, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Wow. We’re really, truly… allies. Who’d have guessed?

  “How do I get out of here?” she asked the walls, hoping she hadn’t offended the entity by laughing so foolishly.

  A soft rumble and the walls moved in response. The ground groaned and shifted a bit under her, and she stumbled to grab on to something for balance. Before she could, the floor stopped moving, and a long hallway leading to her right appeared.

  This way to Arthas, the whispers hushed across her ears like a cold winter breeze.

  Of course getting out of here wouldn’t be so easy. Shade bit her tongue and pressed on, knowing there would be no escape from this pit of hell until her agreement with Aveta had been fulfilled. At least she still had her summoning orb. Knowing Camulus had saved Dylan eased her aching heart and made it so much easier to press forward, down the hall, following the moving walls as they led her toward Arthas… toward possible death.

  There was no better way to die than to know it was coming. Still, the feeling of urgency clung to her like a sticky coat of sadness, even though she was protesting each and every step, screaming inside as each one took her closer and closer to the end.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cold Hearts

  CORB WATCHED AS Kilara sent another energy wave against the side of the Withering Palace. Her wild eyes betrayed the insanity within her, and he knew she’d turned into the very thing she used to defend the land against: darkness, emptiness and bitterness. What had happened? What was going on inside that pretty head of hers that she felt compelled to bring the Unseelie castle, an entity as old as they were, down to ruins? This wasn’t the woman he’d fallen in love with centuries ago. No, this was a stranger before him.

  “Must you do this now? They’re all still in there.” His face was tight with disapproval, but he knew she wouldn’t stop what she had started.

  “It must be done.”

  “I thought you needed Rowan.”

  “Plans change.”

  “And me? Am I still useful to you, or will you bring a castle down onto me when you’re done using me?” His voice was frosty, and the tone captured Kilara’s attention, sending a ripple of shivers down her spine. She stopped the attack and turned to face him.

  Her old lover, the one she’d promised all eternity to, was watching her every move with judgmental eyes and a wary stance. There was no way he knew her agenda, that she was sick underneath her powerful exterior… that the withering sickness was taking her apart, bit by tiny bit, even though she didn’t want to die. No one had ever mentioned a sickness that took its victim by force. Withering was voluntary, chosen by the faery who wished to die. This wasn’t the same thing.

  “Why are you doing this?” His accusatory tone made her flinch. She didn’t feel like explaining herself or her motives to him, of all people. He wasn’t even useful to her, really. With his magic bound, with Shade in control of it, he was as good as a puppet. She knew she couldn’t kill Rowan by bringing down the Withering Palace, but she was hoping to shake them out of the castle and into her clutches. It was proving to be an impossible feat.

  “Why is it resisting my destruction?” She turned back to the walls of the palace as they systematically rebuilt each hole, crack and tear in the walls until it looked as if it had never been touched. This made her frown, her anger growing with each stone the castle replaced. She’d never seen anything like it and began to wonder if she’d never be able to bring it down.

  “Don’t ignore me. I asked if you’d be rid of me when I’m of no use.”

  “You’re of no use now!” She gritted her teeth and stared him down. The Ice King wouldn’t back down, though, and met her gaze with equal power.

  So Shade had his strings in her hands, but she let him have his power anyway, she thought. Why would she do that?

  “I won’t allow this. Shade and Rowan must be allowed to escape the palace.”

  “You’re going to try to stop me?” She laughed, her frustration showing in her rough, piercing cackles. “I dare you to,” she hissed.

  “Don’t try me, we are equal. Shade allows me use of my magic, and I respect her for that. It’s a lot more than I can say about you.” He didn’t move from his spot, knowing it was intimidating her.

  She sent another blast of energy at the castle walls, causing a large gap to form on one of the upper floors. Dust and debris tumbled down the mountain from the wound but almost as quickly as she had caused the damage, the hole began reconstructing itself, piece by piece, with eternal patience.

  Damn!

  She screamed in frustration. “Why can’t I bring it down?”

  “Because the building is an Ancient being, just like you and me. We do not answer to each other, nor can we kill each other. I thought you knew this rule. We do not provide sanctuary for each other, either, like the Ancient Oak Trees. I’m sure Arthas has had a very unhappy life in there.” The thought of the castle disliking to harbor an Ancient like Arthas brought a smile to his lips.

  Aveta probably knew this by now.

  He hoped Aveta would use it against Arthas, but she was as unpredictable as Shade.

  “You’re just using up your power. I sense you depleting it rapidly. Maybe you should rest a while.”

  “Shut up!” Kilara grabbed her head as a sharp, tormenting pain shot through her skull. He was right. The exertion was doing nothing but withering her faster. She had to get out of there before he learned her secret. “Maybe you’re right. This is useless.”

  Corb’s smile faded as he watched her, knowing what was next.

  “Where are you going this time?”

  “Where you’ll never find me.” She smirked.

  “Why would you do that to me again? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you and you’ve treated me like the scum that grows underneath the unmoving pools of water. Why?”

  “Because…I told you. I don’t love you anymore. I have to go.”

  “Wait….”

  “Goodbye, Corb,” she said and faded away.

  Silence met him as he pressed his lips tight. He should have never trusted her again, and the ache in his chest that he thought had been dormant for so long re-emerged violently until he stifled it with a cold, freezing touch.

  It was better to be hardened and cold than to let his heart break again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Old Death

  “HEY, BRO, WAKE up!” A cold splash of fluid shocked Dylan’s senses, making him sputter as he blinked and wiped the drops away. The water rolled off his face, beads of it drenching hi
s tunic as he glared at the deliverer of the dousing.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he snapped. Long black locks stuck to his skin, and he swatted them away from his face.

  Benton grinned, his big white teeth flashing. “Sorry, but you were so out of it, I was afraid you’d turned into Sleeping Beauty.”

  Dylan groaned and used his tunic to wipe the rest of the wetness off his face. Realizing he was not inside the Withering Palace anymore, he jerked around quickly, searching for his beloved’s face in the crowd of people around him. “Shade… where is she? How’d I get here? Did she get out, too?”

  Benton’s smile fell, and he pressed his mouth tight. “No, man. I thought she was with you. Camulus found you and brought you back here. He said he thought he’d heard Shade when he retrieved you, but when he was able to return for her, he only saw Aveta and Arthas together and she wasn’t anywhere to be found, even though he sensed his summoning orb nearby. Where’d she go?”

  Dylan rubbed his face, gathering his wits about him. He still felt groggy. What had happened to Shade? She’d been there; he could’ve sworn he’d seen her. One minute, Darren had gotten him with the poisoned dagger. The next, she was wrapping his leg. Then again, he’d been so out of it, he didn’t know what had happened after the poison took effect.

  He pulled his leg into view and stared at the strips of shirt wrapped securely around his wound. Ripping them off, he found his skin pristine and unblemished. How? A Darkling’s poison should have killed him.

  “Darren was there, too. Did Camulus see him there?”

  Benton shook his head. “No, Camulus didn’t mention him, but he did say he was in a hurry to get the hell out of there. Arthas was there.”

  “She’s still in there.” Dylan fiddled with the ring on his finger, feeling for his love’s life pulsating through it. With enough concentration, he could feel her heart beating as if he was holding her in his arms. As soon as the soft thumping vibrated under his skin, he let out the breath he’d been holding.