The Fall Of The King (Lightness Saga Book 3)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “You stupid fool.” His energy pushed so hard against me tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. He moved closer, only a few meters from me. “I thought you were a lot wiser than this, Druid. You think you can hold strong against torture? Pain so excruciating you will be begging me to take your life?” he whispered hoarsely. His skin was thin, his eyes black, but he balled his fists as though he was holding back.

  He crushed my throat further, forcing a gasped cry from my lips. My feet dangled in the air, and the plaster crumbled as he pressed my bones firmer into the wall.

  “Tell me where it is,” the demon snarled.

  My mind began to get cloudy while my legs banged against the wall, trying to break free.

  Air. I sought it in desperation as my fingers clawed at the imaginary hands around my throat. Black magic swirled in my gut, building in intensity. I tried to swallow the instinct to attack, knowing if I did, he would learn my other secret and all my cards would be played.

  “Tell me,” he roared. More magic drilled into my stomach. Agony twisted every muscle into angry snakes, slithering and lashing out at their attacker.

  Power popped behind my eyes, lashing back with a snarling bite. Lars stumbled back, his expression warping with confusion. I fell to the floor, the grip on my throat breaking, letting oxygen slip down my esophagus in a burning spurt of fire. When I coughed, bile rose up.

  “What the hell just happened?”

  I peered up at him, glared, and got to my feet. “You are losing your touch, aren’t you, King?” My voice was hoarse but still strong.

  “My kindness was clearly wasted. A mistake I will not make again. Not even your sister can help you. This will be painful; I will not lie.” His dark, glossy eyes reflected my face as he came a millimeter from mine. “Last chance, Ms. Cathbad.”

  I locked my teeth, my nostrils spreading with hatred. “I will never let you have it.”

  “Really? You will throw away a life with your daughter so easily?”

  “Let’s stop pretending that was ever going to happen,” I growled. “You won’t hurt her. You are cruel but never to children.”

  “You think you will die a martyr?” His teeth glinted between his lips. “Your little girl will only see how you abandoned her. Again. She won’t love you more for your ‘supposed’ heroics. All she wants is for you to choose her.”

  “Bastard,” I croaked, feeling every stab of the truth. All I had wanted was for my mother and father to choose my sister and me too. Yes, what they fought for was important and I understood that. Now. But it had been years before I understood their sacrifices.

  A gruesome smile thinned out his already wafer-thin lips.

  “You are wasting my time, Ms. Cathbad.”

  The choices presented in front of me balled in my throat. I was about to lay another card on the table, showing my bluff.

  “Tell. Me. Now!”

  “I don’t know!” I cried out, the truth flying out resembling a bird released from a cage. “I don’t know where it is.”

  Lars went board straight, his breath growing heavier. “What?”

  “I’ve been lying this whole time, saying I knew the location. It was lost decades ago.”

  I could feel Lars’s power, the vehemence of his rage, crowding me like the thick fog outside.

  “I’d heard a rumor it was here, but I suspected it was a fake. Someone wanted to cash in on the treasure, as so many do with the Ark of the Covenant.” I licked my lips, lifting my head to face the demon.

  “Did you think this would fool me?” His boots hit my toes, bending his face to mine. “That I wouldn’t kill you the moment I figured it out?”

  “What would you have done if I told you right away I didn’t know anything?”

  “I would have killed you on the spot.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You lied to prolong your life only a few weeks?”

  “I had a plan. Until you brought my daughter into it.”

  “You were going to try and escape.” He barked a strained, sardonic laugh. “Escape me? How did you think that was going to work? You could never hide from me. And you can’t use your magic on me. Remember?”

  I stood up as straight as my body would allow, a grin matching his played on my mouth. “Really? Want to test me? I am much more powerful than your ego would like to think.” All humor dropped from his face.

  This was the last card up my sleeve. I wasn’t above cheating. Not when it came to fae. “Black magic. It can be an exceptionally useful tool.” I stepped into him. Game point.

  “You broke my bind on you?”

  “The moment you turned your back.” I smirked. “Let me say, it’s taken a lot of willpower not to use it thus far.” I tipped up on my toes, whispering coyly. “Do not underestimate me, Lars. I can play this game just as well as you.”

  It had been a hard one to keep back, but I played the long game. There would have been no way to get out of his compound. So I waited.

  He stared at me, no emotion hinting on his sunken features.

  “Now, I say we call a truce before anyone really gets hurt.”

  “Truce?” The word rumbled like an earthquake, his body pressing into mine. “You really think I play well with others?”

  “No. But neither do I,” I volleyed back.

  A growl filled the space around us, his skin straining so severely against the bones it looked as they would break through it.

  His mouth opened as though to say something when a wave of nausea spun my head. Instinctively I reached out, grabbing his arm to keep upright.

  When I first met Kennedy, I had lied to her about my visions. At the time, I had not trusted anyone to know she was more powerful than me, chiding her that she should learn how to control them. Envy was not something I usually experienced. But when I’d seen my little sister was by far the more powerful one when it came to full visions, a natural obscurer, the green-eyed demon of envy made its appearance. I had seen our mother get them so badly she passed out. Father didn’t get any at all; his family was stronger in healing.

  I only got a watered-down version of the element. I stayed in my body, could see everything around me, but it was as though someone layered my sight with a movie film in the near future. I could see both worlds happening, but the one in the future was more transparent and on low volume.

  Now the row of dome windows encasing the building shattered, the ghostly debris falling around me. A cry yanked my head to the side. The future figure of Goran buckled over, blood spurting out of his stomach and chest from where several arrows sank into his skin. Travil’s body fell like a domino beside him. The room we were standing in filled with strighoul, swinging their weapons at us.

  “No.” My head lurched around, trying to take in all I saw.

  “What? Ms. Cathbad?” Lars jostled me, snapping me out of my reverie. I blinked up at the solid man before me, into his green eyes that stared down at me. He gripped my shoulders. “What did you see?”

  I licked my lip, gathering myself, shoving back the need to lie down. “We’re going to be attacked…”

  The last words left my mouth moments before the dome windows shattered over our heads, showering us in splinters of glass. Spheres the size of cannonballs cracked the floor as they hit, knocking over displays like bowling pins.

  Lars shoved me back down on the floor. I threw my arms over my head when the weight of Lars’s form pressed into me, shielding my body from the onslaught. Cries of attack and alarms from the treasury shrilled the air, goose-pimpling my flesh. My hold on the alarms had vanished.

  Slowly Lars lifted his head, pieces of the window falling from his hair and jacket.

  “My liege?” Goran yelled out from his hiding place.

  “Goran.” A memory flicked in my head, sitting me back. “Travil. Move…”

  Through the open windows dozens of arrows shot into the room similar to missiles. Lars dived over me again, flattening me to the marble floor.

  A grunt f
rom across the room told me one had found its target. Just as my vision predicted. More arrows came through the gaps. Another cry of pain.

  “Shit.” The King shoved off me, seeing what I already knew to be true. Both his men had been hit. Lars crawled forward, hiding behind an exhibit.

  “Goran?”

  A groan was our only response. I peered around, seeing the two bodies lying flat, four or five arrows sticking out of each of them.

  Boom.

  The door we came through bowed under the weight hitting it. Shite. They were breaking in. We didn’t have much time.

  “Can you heal them?” Lars’s eyes met mine.

  We didn’t have time, not the amount I needed to heal both, but I pushed the thought away. I nodded, crawling over broken glass to the two unconscious bodies. Blood dripped from my palms and knees, smearing the floor in red stains.

  Boom. Boom.

  The door cracked, weight slamming into it, the metal on the handle clinking at my nerves. I hovered over Goran, my hands on his chest where the barbs had imbedded in his chest. Instantly I could feel the darts were made with goblin metal. I yanked them out of his body, swear words streaming through my mind like music.

  My arms shook and the chant quavered at the back of my throat as the high-pitched cries from the strighoul right outside clenched my lungs in fear. Healing took a lot of energy, my body the conductor between the earth’s power and the recipient. It also took a lot of concentration. Neither was coming to me in steady quantities. Alarms and the pounding of the door ran together similar to bagpipes played badly.

  “Shite.” I shook my head, trying the chant again. Only a small dose of the earth’s magic clung to Goran., but I only had enough to help them both a little. I moved over to Travil. A handful of poisonous arrows protruded from his gut and neck.

  Lars was suddenly by my side, the false idol wrapped in his arms. I understood his logic of grabbing it. Whoever had set the strighoul on us thought we found the real thing. He or she wanted it too.

  Leverage.

  “Hurry,” he barked.

  “I’m trying,” I snapped.

  Boom. Crack.

  The entrance to the treasury splintered as howls from the opposing side grew louder. I stumbled over the spell but tried to put everything I had into it, my body crying out with pain.

  Travil gasped, his lids bolting open. His stomach and neck were still bleeding badly, but he was awake. I had only slowed the poison from the goblin metal; now their systems had to work out the rest. Most likely they would get very sick with fevers for the next week or so. We had to move before the shock to their systems wore off.

  An axe ripped through the crack in the door, gouging an even bigger hole in the wood. They would be inside soon.

  Travil was instantly aware of the threat. Rolling up, he struggled to get to his feet. “Sir, you need to run.” He heaved, each word a struggle, limping over to Goran.

  “I’m not leaving you here,” Lars exclaimed.

  “Sir!” Travil turned his head, but the resolve in his gaze was solid. “You are the King. We protect you. We know the risks and gladly take them. You think he wouldn’t kill me himself if he knew I didn’t force you to leave?” Travil motioned to Goran. “Do not push me on this, sir. I said run.” Travil reached under Goran’s arms and lifted him up. Goran groaned, his lids fluttering open.

  “Go!” Travil bellowed.

  I never had doubt of Travil’s or Goran’s dedication to Lars, but it was the first time I saw it also went the other way. Pain wrinkled Lars’s forehead, his eyes darting between the door and his men. Red eyes and sharp teeth peered through the growing fissure.

  Lars tossed the fake cauldron onto the floor. I gaped at him. Even though it wasn’t the real thing, he was throwing away the leverage of the fake cauldron for his men.

  “No.” Lars rushed to Goran and helped him up. “We walked out of the hotel together in Zurich; we will walk out of here as well.”

  Travil stared at his King and shook his head. “And how the hell are we going to do it this time?”

  I couldn’t help but feel a stab of remorse. I was the reason they almost lost their lives in Zurich. At the time I would have called it a win, reveling in the fact I took out the Unseelie King as well. Now? I wasn’t quite sure which way I felt on the matter. The only thing important was getting away. The sirens wailing in the distance told me our time was up. Threats were coming in at all angles.

  “I know a way,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone.

  “What? Where?” Lars shifted the barely conscious Goran higher.

  “Follow me.” Ignoring his query, I took off for the far end of the room. When I hacked into their system, I found floor plans and secret exits. I crashed through a private door to another room. My memory flickered back through the blueprints I had studied. One showed stairs going down to a tunnel. Frantically I searched until my eyes landed on a slab of concrete standing out in the sea of marble. It had a name and sonnet etched on it, as though in honor of someone who was buried underneath. I was hoping it was a facade.

  Magic sputtered in my veins. I had used so much tonight I could feel the limit of my magic closing in. But a shriek from the next room urged the revealing spell through my teeth. With a hiss of air, the concrete block popped up, shifting to the side, exposing old stone steps going down beneath the surface.

  “Find them,” a nasally voice shouted from the entrance, bouncing off the walls. The strighoul were in.

  “Go!” I yelled at Lars. Travil was barely able to stand, but he kept hold of his friend and moved with Lars. As the men descended the worn stone stairs, a tingle tickled the back of my neck. I looked back.

  Far across the cathedral, the shape of a woman stood in the door. Her features were masked in the dark, but I could feel her eyes on me.

  I blinked.

  She was gone.

  An icy chill gnawed on my nerves as I darted around to see where she went. Did I imagine her?

  “Druid!” Lars hissed from below, pulling my attention back to our escape. I climbed down the steps, covering up the tomb as I went with the last bits of my magic. Out of my coat pocket, I drew a small torch, illuminating the creepy, cramped tunnel far below the surface. It smelled the same as stale air, decomposing rodents, and feces.

  Lars’s head brushed the top as he bent forward slightly; the space barely let two men walk next to each other. Lars gathered up Goran, and Travil limped slowly behind, his ebbing energy slowing our pace.

  I sighed, went to him, and tucked my shoulder under his arm.

  “Get away from me, Druid.” His lip curled up.

  “Yeah, ’cause this is so fun for me too,” I snarled back, wrapping my arm around his torso. “But you are slowing us down.”

  He wanted to fight me, but one look at his King and he shut up. His pride came second to his leader’s safety.

  My smirk was hidden in the dark, my hand curling around my true purpose for helping Travil. Scheming and plotting were in my nature now. I always kept my eyes open. Travil was too dazed and sick to notice I’d taken payment for my assistance—his beautifully carved knife he had threatened me with a time or two. The metal felt good brushing against my spine as I shoved it into the back of my pants. It would be weeks before he realized it was gone. If he lived.

  Travil and I moved past Lars, taking the lead.

  “This better take us out,” Lars growled, dragging Goran.

  I had the same wish. I really, really hoped the plans were current and someone hadn’t sealed off the exit.

  “Who the hell is attacking us?” I asked over my shoulder. Strighoul wouldn’t bother unless something was in it for them. They didn’t care about the treasure, and they would rather capture the King and have him for dinner. Someone was using them. This time it wasn’t me. Hiring strighoul was not my finest hour, but in war you did what you had to do to win. “Who knows we are here?”

  “You tell me, Ms. Cathbad. You sure they are not still
working for you? Is this part of your plan to escape and betray me?”

  I shot Lars a glare. “You think if this was part of my plan, I’d still be here with you?”

  “Like you said, never underestimate you.” He shifted Goran’s weight higher on his shoulder, the man’s legs all but dragging on the ground. Travil was in only slightly better shape, his jaw grinding in pain. “Use them as a diversion. Make it look as if we are on the same side.”

  I whipped around, stopping him in his tracks, Travil’s form knocked against the wall at my sudden movement and release. He clung to the wall, trying to keep himself upright as sweat poured off him.

  “It wasn’t me. You can believe me or not, but right now both your men are dying. Every second goblin metal is leaking into their system. If we don’t get them

  out of here and healed, they will die. So…do you really want to fight with me right now?”

  Lars and I scowled at each other before he gave me the briefest of nods. I turned back around, taking us down the path in my mind. My flashlight dimly lit the way, just enough to mistake every shadow for an attacker. My body was so tense and jumpy I felt like a jack-in-the-box ready to leap out of the container.

  “There.” I pointed with relief down the corridor at the sewer exit above us at street level. The tick of water dripping down echoed through the tunnel.

  I reached the old stone steps leading up to the exit. The lock took some time to break, but finally we emerged at street level, the night blistering with sirens and commotion, spectators running away or trying to get closer to see what was going on.

  Goran’s body sagged on Lars similar to a doll. He reduced us almost to a crawl, and Travil trudged like a ball at the end of the chain. We slipped into a dark alley a couple blocks away from the palace grounds.

  “Sir, we are slowing you down. You need to flee while you have the chance,” Goran muttered.

  Lars’s lips parted. “I will hear none of it.”

  Goran pushed away from Lars, falling onto the wall, letting himself slide to the ground, panting. “You have to leave us. Travil and I will go into fever comas soon. We are no use to you. We will only bring you more danger. I swore I would protect you. The best way to do that is for you to leave right now. Take the plane home.”