by J. S. Malcom
Revlen keeps striding forward, her posture that of a soldier. “For several reasons. First, because you destroyed the Amulus he was using to monopolize power. Second, because you removed any remaining magic from him when the ley line shared her power with you. Third, because when you left this realm—breaking the spell you’d place upon him—Vintain had already been placed within his cell, which is surrounded by powerful wards calibrated specifically for him.”
“How does that work?”
“By using what you would call a person’s DNA.”
I raise my eyebrows, taken aback. “Blood magic?”
Revlen shrugs. “What we Unseelie call Vrathax. But, yes, it’s essentially what a human witch would call blood magic.”
The fae using blood magic never occurred to me, but in this case I have no problem with it. I also have no doubt that ley line would never entrust her magic to Vintain again. In this realm, she’s a sentient being, and there’s no way she’d forget the man who once held her in chains. Still, why do I get the feeling that something didn't hold?
We come to another door and wait as Loctulan selects a key from a ring. “There are only two prisoners kept in this tower,” he explains. “One on this side and one on the other.”
“Is that Abarrane?” I say.
He nods and inserts the key into the lock. “Yes, although they never have contact with each other. For anyone being kept up here, they might as well be the last man on Faerie.”
It didn’t seem likely that Vintain would be mixed in with some sort of inmate population, but I couldn’t be sure. I’m glad to hear he’s had plenty of time alone to think about what an asshole he’s been.
The door groans on its hinges as Loctulan swings it open. “Tonorf will assist you from here.”
I remember the name, of course. Tonorf was one of Revlen’s men who I met at the Gilded Gargoyle. It makes sense that one of her most trusted would be assigned to keep an eye on Vintain.
Loctulan locks the door behind us as we enter another chamber. It’s bright as day in there, with so many torches lining the walls that my pupils dilate. As my eyes adjust, I see Tonorf, where he stands waiting for us to walk forward. Beside him, there’s a wall of bars. Behind those bars, sits Vintain, who stares right at me as if he’s been waiting for this moment all along.
CHAPTER 23
“It’s okay,” Tonorf says. “He won’t bite.”
“He would if he could,” Revlen says. She walks forward and the rest of us follow, although it takes me a moment to set myself in motion.
“True,” Tonorf says, as we draw closer, “but we took his teeth out.” He turns to me, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Well, to be more precise, you did.”
“It wouldn’t have been possible without your bravery,” I say.
I’m not being modest; it’s just true. If Revlen and her men hadn’t thought to keep me safe while Vintain hunted for me, chances are I wouldn’t have been around when the time came to turn the tables. Still, my eyes keep flicking to where Vintain sits just a few feet away. He’s no longer looking at me now, or even out at us as a group. He sits at a table in his brightly lit cell, staring down at something I can’t see.
My eyes go from Vintain, to Tonorf, and then to Esras. “Wait, can he not…?”
“Look closer.” A smile tugs on Esras’s lips.
I check Vintain’s cell again, now seeing what I didn’t before as my eyes adjusted to the glare. Across the bars, there’s a nearly invisible shimmering curtain.
Tonorf grins, as if fighting the urge to laugh. “Don’t worry. You’re not the first to miss it. The wards here are both extensive and complex. That one allows us to see in, but not him to see out. Same goes for sound, unless we choose otherwise.”
“As you can see,” Revlen says. “Everything’s fine. The rat remains in his trap. Come on, let’s get a better look.”
We’re just a few feet away already, which seems close enough for me. As it is, my skin crawls at the sight of him. Still, I’m the one who insisted we come here.
As a group, we step closer, the only thing between us and Vintain those bars and a nearly transparent field of magic. It’s like we’re visiting a human zoo, and I guess in a way we are—this exhibit dedicated to one of the realm’s most dangerous predators.
The cell is simple, in many ways the same as those you’d see in a human prison. Although, it’s slightly larger, with a bed, a chair and table, as well as a small barred window. I’m not really sure what those bars are for, since we’re so high up in the air. To prevent suicide, possibly, although in this case it seems unlikely. To feel remorse or depression, you’d have to own a soul.
My eyes go to Vintain again, where he remains seated at the table. “What’s he doing?”
Now that we’re closer, I can see that he’s holding cards shaped like hexagons. He keeps studying them, every so often setting one down before him, where he has others laid out in rows.
“It’s called Lonsec,” Esras says. “A card game played alone.”
I glance over at him, and then back to Vintain. “Like Solitaire?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know what that is. If you say so, probably.”
The scene before us is just so peaceful, and so strange, as Vintain sits playing his game. Still, my pulse remains elevated, and I tell myself it’s a natural reaction to seeing my old enemy. All the same, it seems like my heartbeat should be starting to slow. Instead, my pulse keeps increasing, as an edginess keeps building within me. It just keeps getting worse, to the point where I'm startled when Esras next speaks.
“Well, there you have it,” he says. “I don't know how to explain what you've been experiencing, but that snake can't have anything to do with it. His reign of terror is over.”
The steel that creeps into Esras's voice makes me look at him. He keeps his jaw set hard as he looks at Vintain, his face tight with barely concealed hatred. After all, if it wasn’t for Vintain and the world he created, Esras’s family might still be intact. His little sister might still be alive.
I resist the urge to reach for his hand. “I know this can't be easy, coming here like this. I'm sorry.”
Esras shakes his head at my apology. “There's nothing to be sorry about. It's perfectly understandable that you'd suspect him.”
As always, he’s kind, but I can’t help wonder if he’s thinking what I’ve suspected myself so many times. Namely, that what Vintain did to me left me too traumatized to think clearly. Still, I felt so sure. And what of that edginess that keeps getting stronger? Is that too just due to trauma?
I turn to Tonorf, gesturing toward Vintain. “Is he like this all the time? Does he just sit there playing cards?”
Tonorf shakes his head. “Not all the time, of course. At first, he was difficult to manage.”
“I would imagine,” Revlen says, her tone proud at having orchestrated Vintain’s downfall. “He must have been furious.”
Tonorf grins. “He was, believe me. He kept carrying on about controlling Faerie again. Saying he’d have all of us killed. Totally deluded, obviously.”
Revlen nods, not surprised to hear it. “I'm sure it took a bit of time for his situation to sink in.”
“A few weeks,” Tonorf says. “Then he became more placid.”
I keep staring at Vintain, where he sits oblivious to us watching him. He keeps staring at his cards, every so often slowly setting down. “Is he on drugs?”
Maybe that’s what’s going on. I keep checking Vintain’s eyes and it's like the wheels aren't even turning.
Again, Tonorf's shakes his head. “He hasn’t had any medications lately.”
For some reason, the back of my neck tingles in what feels like a psychic ping. It’s definitely not one I’m going to ignore. “What do you mean, lately?”
Tonorf shrugs. “For a while he kept complaining of stomach pains. Keveris arranged for him to see the physician.”
This seems to pique Revlen’s curiosity too. “Who’s th
e physician?”
I have to wonder if there might be a psychic side to her I don't yet know about.
“Nathic Cloethle,” Tonorf says. “He was assigned here the same time as me.”
I hate to ask, but I still do. “Is he Seelie or Unseelie?”
“Unseelie. Why?” Tonorf says.
I can feel Esras looking at me, but I can’t meet his gaze.
“Just wondering if you knew him,” I say, not forgetting my last faux pas. I really need to let go of that prejudice.
“If it was up to me, I would have let him suffer,” Tonorf says. “But they let Nathic get him some medicine.”
Not only don't I like the sound of that, but the back of my neck tingles again, this time strong enough that I have to keep myself from shuddering.
Apparently, Revlen gets another ping on her radar too, since she goes right where I was going. “And that was weeks ago, you said.”
Tonorf nods. “Yes. After that, he settled down.”
A few moments pass as Revlen considers, then she sighs. “Well, I guess he became resigned to his fate.”
That idea doesn't sit right with me either. Honestly, I'm surprised Revlen is willing to ignore her instincts on this. Then again, she's not feeling the supernatural edginess I'm feeling on top of those psychic pings.
“As you can see, he’s being watched carefully,” Tonorf says. “Were there any more concerns?”
Revlen shifts her gaze to me, as does Esras.
I hesitate, reluctant, but I haven't got anything to go on. What can I say, that the back of my neck tingled? “I guess not,” I say.
After a moment, Esras’s eyes slide away from mine. “Then I guess we’ll be going.”
Revlen turns her attention back to her old friend. “Thank you, Tonorf.”
“Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything more I can do.”
Tonorf starts walking across the chamber and we follow. We’re almost at the door when something occurs to me. Until this moment, I’ve been ruling something out. I’ve just assumed it wasn’t possible. All the same, there’s no denying that the edginess I feel is a lot like what I felt the other day in Bethany’s apartment. As well as at Byrd Park the other night, to a degree, but that was active energy and this feels more like lingering energy. More specifically, lingering demon energy. Where the hell is that coming from?
I step back from the others, taking a moment to close my eyes. Like I did the other night, I allow my perceptions to shift as I extend my supernatural feelers. I open my eyes to look at Vintain again, and this time I see it. There’s an aura surrounding Vintain, pulsing and flickering with a fiery glow. The realization hits me like a punch to the stomach.
“He has magic,” I say.
The others turn too, trying to see what I see. They can’t, I know, so they’re just going to have to take my word for it.
“That’s not possible,” Revlen says, “I assure you, the wards—”
“It’s not fae magic,” I say, my heart pounding at the sudden realization. “It’s demon magic. That’s how he’s been doing it.”
CHAPTER 24
A stunned silence follows my claim, as Esras, Cade and Revlen stare at me. I can see that they’re not sure what to think. After all, they can’t feel what I feel, or see what I see. At the same time, they’re not strangers to magic, and they’re definitely not strangers to the depths of Vintain’s duplicity. They look to me to see what we should do next.
“We need to check him,” I say. “He must have something.”
Tonorf looks to Revlen for confirmation.
“She’s right,” Revlen says. “We need to check him. Can you lower the ward?”
Tonorf strides back toward Vintain’s cell, where he raises both hands, his lips moving as he recites an incantation. The shimmering curtain fades as, finally, Vintain looks out past his bars. I brace myself for the moment of recognition, but it doesn’t come. Vintain’s eyes sweep over us, both curious and surprised, but there’s no sign that he knows who we are. Which, in itself, is weird as hell.
“Stand up,” Tonorf says, as he enters the cell. He grips the pommel of his sword, the blade partly unsheathed.
Without a word, Vintain rises from his seat. His gaze shifts from Tonorf, to us, and then back to his guard.
“Come out from behind the table,” Tonorf orders. “Stand before me.”
Calmly, almost robotically, Vintain does as he’s been told. He steps out from behind the table and goes to face Tonorf. He’s dressed simply in loose-fitting trousers and a plain shirt, what must be the fae version of a prison uniform. Neither appear to have pockets. I check his fingers for rings and his neck for a cord, but see no sign of anything that could hold magic.
“Tell him to take off his clothes,” I say, although the last thing I want to see is Vintain naked.
Tonorf glances back at Revlen, his expression uncertain.
“Tell him,” she says.
Tonorf turns back to Vintain. “Remove your clothes. Slowly. Shirt first.”
Vintain’s gaze shifts to us and then back to Tonorf. He still doesn’t utter a word.
“Do it,” Tonorf says. “You lost the right to be modest when you entered these walls.”
Vintain nods, just barely moving his head. Slowly, he peels off his shirt to reveal a lean but well-muscled torso, his skin milky pale. I still see nothing he could use to counter the wards around him.
“Drop it to the floor,” Tonorf says.
Vintain drops the shirt, which he’s kept held bunched in one hand.
Tonorf steps closer. “Now turn around.”
Again, Vintain nods and slowly starts to turn. Then, almost too quickly for my eyes to track, he spins and executes a series of motions of inhuman precision. Within an instant, he throws a blow knocking Tonorf off balance, grabs the pommel of Tonorf’s sword, unsheathes it and drives the blade through Tonorf’s gut. Tonorf no sooner drops when Vintain staggers back himself, his eyes wide with shock. He raises his hands to where the handle of a dagger now protrudes from his chest. As he too falls, I track his stunned gaze to see Revlen, whose arm still remains outstretched from the throw of her knife.
CHAPTER 25
Revlen rushes to where Tonorf lays on the floor and drops to her knees beside him. My gaze shifts to where, at the back of the cell, another man lays slumped against the wall. He wears no shirt, his hands still clutching the knife in his chest, his ribcage covered with blood. All the same, I can’t look away. Whoever he is, I’ve never seen him before. While Vintain is pale, with nearly platinum hair, this man is bald with a dark complexion. So, that’s what I was seeing before—that magical aura was some sort of glamour.
“Who the hell is that?” Cade says.
It’s a damned good question.
Behind us, Revlen’s voice rises in anger. “He’s dead. The son of a bitch killed him.”
There’s no doubt that what she says is true. Tonorf lays still and pale, a pool of blood spreading around him. The question remaining is who, exactly, killed him? Unfortunately, that man also appears to be dead.
While my heart breaks for Tonorf, I can’t contain an outburst of my own. “Goddammit! We need to know how this happened.”
Revlen spins on her knees on the blood-soaked floor. “Get him onto the table. Now!”
At first, I think she has to mean Tonorf, but her gaze remains fixed on the stranger. For a moment, no one moves, but then Esras snaps out of his shock. He rushes across the room, Cade soon following after him. Together, they crouch near the stranger’s body.
“Take hold of his legs,” Esras says, wrapping his arm around the dead man’s chest. He waits for Cade, and then says, “Now, lift him!”
I watch in horror as they carry the man across the cell, swinging his body to clear objects from the table. Then they drop him down onto his back.
Revlen rises from Tonorf’s side, her hands and legs soaked with blood. She goes to where the other man lays and locks her hands onto his templ
es. She starts reciting an incantation. As a glowing light starts to swirl around her hands, I realize I've never seen her use magic. She couldn't before, as Vintain kept it out of reach for anyone but himself and the Seelie nobles.
I watch curiously, wondering what type of magic she's using. “Is she trying to bring him back?”
“Not exactly,” Esras says. “It's called Daua, a form of Unseelie death magic. If performed quickly enough, it allows for communication.”
At his words, my eyes widen. This sounds like veil witch territory, or a form of necromancy. “Do you mean with his spirit?”
Esras shakes his head. “Again, not exactly. If it works, Revlen will be able to access the words still held within him. Like echoes of who he was while still alive. However, the energy lingering within him will be fading fast.”
At that same moment, Revlen speaks to the dead man. “Please tell us your name.”
It seems impossible, but his mouth opens. He croaks out the words, “Nathic Cloethle.”
“And you’re the physician here,” Revlen says. “Is that right?”
I notice that she doesn't use past tense, instead addressing Nathic like he's still alive. I can’t help but wonder if she’s trying to keep him from knowing the truth.
“Yes,” Nathic’s corpse says. “Why can't I move?”
“Because you're asleep,” Revlen says. “This is a dream.”
I was right; she’s definitely trying to keep him calm.
Nathic’s corpse nods, apparently accepting that explanation.
“Please tell me how you ended up in the prisoner’s cell.”
“Vintain placed a glamour upon me and trapped me here.”
Revlen glances up at us as she tries to think against the ticking clock. She turns her attention back to the corpse. “Go back to when Vintain asked to see you. Please tell me everything that happened.”
The corpse nods, its dead eyes fixed on the ceiling. It speaks in a flat monotone. “Vintain said he was sick. That was a lie. He wanted me to help him.”