by Celia Aaron
We were so close I could make out the detail of their helmets. It didn’t make sense for us to have come this near to a guard entrance. Reckless. What were we doing here?
I caught a flash from the corner of my eye as Elena sprinted across the distance to the gate. Gods, no!
I jumped from my hiding spot and took off after her. What was she doing? A party of vampires sprang from the woods across the road, just ahead of Elena.
She barreled ahead, slowing only to draw her sword and engage the vampires.
She swung her blade out in an arc, cutting only air. One of them pierced her shoulder with his sword. She cried out and fell to her knees as another slashed at her back, ripping through to her skin. It was a deep cut, and the scent of her blood permeated the air.
Rage obliterated any hint of thought. I had to get to her.
Why was she not using her magic? And why weren’t Faren and his soldiers coming to her aid?
I glanced behind me. Faren and his men were gone. The horrible truth struck me—they had led me to the enemy and fled. Traitors. I roared and flew at the attacking vampires, but they had retreated into the woods as quickly as they’d come. They’d been Faren’s men all along. Cowards.
Desmerada’s crimson soldiers poured through the gate, drawn to the sounds of battle. They advanced on Elena and me, their weapons drawn.
I reached down to pick her up and run, but Elena blasted me off my feet with a powerful hex. I flew back and crashed into the wall. The sharp crack of my skull breaking was the last thing I heard.
Chapter Eighteen
Paris
Two male voices faded in and out. One gruff, the other young. The pain in my head made them sound far away, though they were growing sharper by the moment.
“—explosion?”
“Some sort of magic bomb, they think.”
“Well, is it him?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen him.”
“Then how do we know it’s him?” The younger vampire’s voice rose in pitch.
“We don’t know.”
“We can’t take him to her until we know for sure. She’d gut us and leave us to rot outside the wall. With the spiders and such.”
“What about the other one?”
“She’s out. Karnax knocked her a good one with the hilt of his sword. I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of her while she’s out. The queen would never know.”
I heard the tinkle of a belt buckle coming undone.
They were talking about Elena. I wanted to rip their throats out. I opened my eyes just enough to see the speakers to my left. I lay on my side in a cage of silver. The skin on my arms burned where it touched the bars. I ignored the sizzling heat.
“Is that a good idea? What if she wakes up?”
“What if she does? She’s weak. Look at her. Practically bled out as we carried her up here. What a waste.”
I readied to jump at the younger one. Maybe I could reach him through the bars. Take the larger one’s sights off Elena.
The door to the chamber creaked open, and a man in noble attire—deep green robes with a crimson sash—strode in. He eyed the guards. “And just what were you planning on doing with the queen’s captives?”
The larger one refastened his belt. “Nothing.”
“Nothing what?” the noble hissed.
“Nothing, Spymaster.”
“That’s better.” He turned toward Paris’s cage. “Is it him?”
“We aren’t sure.”
The noble approached as I continued to feign unconsciousness. “Oh, it’s him all right. And what a prize.” His tone rose with a sick glee. “The other one?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” It was Elena’s voice but weak, nothing more than a whisper.
The noble strode to her. She lay crumpled on the floor, in the same position where the guards no doubt dropped her. She pushed up onto an elbow as he approached.
“And you are?”
“Elena de Artemis.” She turned her neck and ran her fingers down the runes there.
“What is a servant of the gods doing in the Underworld with a wanted traitor?” The spymaster knelt next to her and drew in a deep breath, scenting her blood more fully. He ran a finger along the bloodied tear in Elena’s shoulder and brought it to his mouth.
She winced.
He groaned. “You, my dear, are good enough to eat. But first, my question. What are you doing here?”
“Paris displeased my mistress. You may have heard that he tried to woo the great Artemis.”
The spymaster tipped his head toward her.
She continued. “Well, he failed, and instead of smiting him as he deserved, she bade me bring him here. Told me I could collect Desmerada’s reward and spend it how I see fit.”
I now saw the plan that Elena had formed. She had gotten us into the keep, into the very heart of Queen Desmerada’s lair, without a single casualty. Was I angry that she hadn’t told me her plan? Yes. But would I have gone along with it if she had? No. I would never allow her to come to harm. I thought back to what I’d told her of Desmerada. How she would only entertain the weak. Now I was bound, and Elena was injured. She had used every grain of information she had and fashioned a plan. I was willing to bet that the rest of my people were massing for an attack, if they hadn’t already found a way to breach the wall. Brilliant.
“And what would a beauty such as yourself spend such a vast amount of gold on?” The spymaster practically purred. His desire was thick in the air, the taste of her blood bringing out the full predator in him.
“My sisters. Jewels for them.” Elena gave a demure smile. “And me. I love pretty things.”
The spymaster tilted her chin up and took in another deep breath. “As do I.” After he perused Elena for a long moment, he stood. “She’s no threat. Escort her to my chambers after we’re done with the queen.”
The spymaster turned toward the cage, a sharp smile breaking his harsh features. He drew a short blade from his scabbard and ran it along the rails of my cage. “Wake up, prince. Your death is nigh.”
I sat up, some of my skin ripping free and staying behind, sizzling against the bars.
The spymaster gave a perfunctory bow. “Lord Sanguine, at your service.”
“If that’s the case, then I’d like you to serve me the key to this cage.”
He drew a hand to his heart in mock surprise. “Maybe some other time. For now, I go to the queen’s chambers to tell her the glorious news: the blood traitor has finally been delivered to her for judgment.” He smiled, his fangs stained yellow. “She will be anxious to meet you.”
Lord Sanguine turned on his heel and disappeared down a long corridor, his steps fading from earshot. I reached up to the crack in my head and felt the blood dried and the break healed. She had knocked me a good one, though. I shot a glance at her. She looked everywhere but at me.
Her shoulder was healing, though still marred by the gash from the soldier’s blade. I thought back to it and realized the vampires from the woods were the same six of Faren’s soldiers who’d separated from us when we’d first dismounted near the wall. A wave of anger crested inside me at the thought of one of my own daring to harm her, though she, no doubt, was the one who ordered them to do the very thing.
I sighed and sank back to the floor of the cage. Now we could do nothing more than sit and wait for the judgment of Desmerada.
Chapter Nineteen
Elena
I moved slowly, and not just because my wounds still smarted. I wanted to give the appearance of nonchalance as I entered Queen Desmerada’s throne room. The two guards from the antechamber carried Paris’s cage. They grunted with exertion as they struggled to maintain their hold on the wooden litter.
The great doors swung noiselessly inward and revealed a spectacle. The ceilings rose high above, and individual spires dotted the four corners of the room, flying ever higher. A mural done in hues of gold and crimson marked the ceiling, a nude of Desm
erada reclining in a bath of blood. Artemis would have called it gaudy. I just called it pathetic.
Guards lined the walls of the room, easily numbering close to five hundred. Their eyes remained ahead, though I knew they watched. To my right lay a body, shriveled and drained. Next to it sat a woman. Her eyes were downcast, and she was chained to one of the thick stone columns that supported the ceiling. Her disheveled hair hung around her face, and her robes were ripped and soiled. Another of Desmerada’s victims. She glanced up as I passed, and—winked at me? I arched an eyebrow before returning my gaze forward.
At the very back of the room, a golden throne was perched high atop a number of steps. There, lounging in a crimson robe, sat Desmerada. A draping gold and crimson banner hung above the dais, and Desmerada’s visage looked at them from several paintings and busts scattered around the chamber. She had carved herself into every corner of the Bloodkeep.
Lord Sanguine stood to her right, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. A handful of nobles waited at the base of the stairs, watching the scene with stony countenances. They wore fine clothes, like Sanguine’s, and each was decorated with a crimson sash.
The guards dropped Paris’s cage with a clang. The smell of his burnt flesh wafted over to me, almost making me gag. I choked back my need to free him and the even greater need to destroy anyone who would treat him so cruelly.
I glanced at the queen for only a moment before training my gaze on the floor, lest I give away my intentions. But I didn’t need to worry. The queen’s attention was focused on Paris, still locked in the silver cage. He stood, back straight, facing his fate.
Desmerada cackled with delight. “My prize is finally here.”
She pranced down the steps, her stilettos clacking on the marble as the nobles moved aside for her. Her crimson robe was only loosely tied, revealing her pale skin beneath. Her long black hair almost swept the ground, an ebon waterfall at her back. She was a beautiful nightmare. She strode past me, never even looking at me, and approached Paris. I turned my head slightly and kept the queen in my peripheral vision. Keeping a low profile was key, as facing Desmerada fully would no doubt undermine my performance as nothing more than Artemis’s servant.
“Askenith.” Derision oozed from her.
Paris didn’t respond.
“So handsome, my prince. Or, you’re trying to be king now, right?” She clucked her tongue against her teeth.
Desmerada ran her fingers around the bars as she circled him, her skin scorching as she went. “If I didn’t need you dead so badly, I would take you to my bed and fuck you until you screamed for mercy.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” His tone was acid.
She stood before him and opened her robe. “Does it look like I’m flattering myself?”
“I’ve seen better.” I could hear the smirk in his voice, imagine the corner of his lips turning up just to bait the queen. I stifled my own smile.
The queen shook the cage, her rage quick and consuming. She latched on to the bars, reminiscent of one of Arachne’s spiders. “You will suffer, Priam’s bastard. You aren’t even worthy to stand in my presence.”
“Yeah, it’s been a real pleasure. Can we get on with this? I don’t think I can bear to look at your face any longer, much less the rest of you.”
She dropped from the cage and turned her back to him. “You don’t fool me, king—you’re still the coward you always were. Running from battle. Crying to your father to save you. It’s pathetic, really. You would never have been strong enough to rule Bloodkeep. Priam’s power died at the end of Menelaus’s blade. Just like the rest of your family.”
She tied her robe back together before facing him once more.
“It’s funny, you know. My seer”—she motioned to the withered body in the corner—“informed me that I would fall this very day. But here I am, alive and well. And there you are, trapped in the cage where you will stay until I take your worthless head. So, perhaps he was half-right. A ruler of the Bloodkeep will fall today, but it won’t be me. Half-right prophecy, all-dead seer.”
She pointed to the chained woman. “You would do well to remember that.”
Desmerada’s gaze bored into my back. “And this is the maiden you told me about, Sanguine?”
“Yes, my lady. She has come for the bounty.”
“Pretty, pretty.” Desmerada stood behind me and ran a hand through my hair. “Maybe instead of Paris, I could take this one to my bed. Her blood smells positively honeyed. I suppose you could still be considered a maiden after I’m done with you. I could show you a few tricks for your sisters.” The queen snaked her tongue out and licked the runes on my neck. I stood still, tamping down my disgust as I played my part. I stared at the floor, never raising my face to Desmerada’s.
Before the queen could continue her inspection, Sanguine interjected, “Oh, she must be on her way back to Olympus. We wouldn’t want to anger Artemis.”
Desmerada erupted. “Sanguine, I don’t give a fuck about angering some bitch on Olympus with cobwebs in her pussy.”
She stormed away from me. I took a breath and wrestled my magics away from the surface. It was a struggle. Desmerada’s presence made my skin crawl, and I itched to torch her. But it was too soon. Though the queen would be gone, I wouldn’t make it out alive. There were too many soldiers posted in this room and likely throughout the keep. I had to be patient so the plan Faren and I worked out could unfold. He needed more time. The board was set, and the pieces were moving. I could only stay silent and hope I’d wagered correctly on the queen’s next moves.
Desmerada climbed the steps and sank back down onto the throne. The queen smiled, her eyes alight with glee as she admired Paris within the silver cage. “Let’s have a celebration to welcome our returning king.”
Sanguine snorted in derision.
Desmerada waved a hand. “Take him to the great hall. I want my people to look upon their enemy and watch as I take his head. Sad that he will turn to dust. I would rather have liked his skull as a trophy. Too bad. Do it now. Summon them all. The sooner we’re rid of this garbage, the better.”
I had guessed correctly. The great hall, all the nobles and soldiers in one place to witness Desmerada’s shining moment. Desmerada didn’t even realize she had just fallen into my trap.
“And Artemis’s maiden?” Sanguine asked.
“Pay her half the bounty and do with her what you will, Sanguine. I’m done with her.”
“Come with me, my dear.” Sanguine offered his arm.
I hesitated. It wasn’t part of the plan for me to leave Paris’s side. I assumed I would be given a seat at the celebration of his capture, as was custom. Instead, we were being split up. On top of being evil to the core, Desmerada lacked any semblance of manners.
I wasn’t in a position to negotiate. I needed to make sure all the pieces were set before the final move. With Shildreth’s and Faren’s help, it would be one that would live in Underworld lore for millennia to come. But, first things first. Faren and his soldiers needed more time.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your gold and more,” Sanguine whispered in my ear.
I fought my gag reflex. With a deep breath, I took Sanguine’s arm and turned my back to Desmerada. I forced myself to giggle at his words, playing the maiden. It worked. Sanguine smiled down at me, his fangs lengthening.
I didn’t chance a glance at Paris, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked.
Desmerada said, “Angry that a female delivered you to your doom, little king? Just wait until you see what I can do. Guards, take him!”
The chained woman caught my eye and mouthed one hour at me. That was the remaining time allotted for Faren’s sneak attack. Did the woman somehow know? Was she a threat? Even if she was, I was powerless to do anything about it. The woman winked again and settled back against the column, as if pleased with the turn of events.
“Don’t mind her.” Sanguine pressed my arm into his side. Even through the fine fabric, I could feel
his coldness. “Liatra’s supposedly the Oracle of Delphi, but she hasn’t been able to give Queen Desmerada an intelligible message since she got here. We kidnapped her, you see, after the queen’s usual seer met an untimely end.” He glanced back to the shriveled body at Liatra’s feet. “But her readings were no better. Just kept on and on about thorns and dragons. Nonsense.”
Kidnapping Apollo’s Oracle was no small matter. The queen must have been desperate to take such a powerful servant of the gods. It was akin to taking a bone from Cerberus. A lethal no-no. Apollo would come for what was his.
Sanguine and I continued out of the cavernous throne room and into the hall. He took a different turn from earlier, leading me into another wing of the keep. The high walls glittered with precious stones, though every so often there would be an overdone painting or sculpture of Desmerada. Always with the crimson.
“Are we going to get the gold?” I asked, though I was well aware Sanguine had no intention of letting me go so easily.
“Yes, my lovely. But first we must stop at my chambers for the key to the vault, you see.”
Of course we must. “A vault? Oh, I bet that’s wonderful.”
“It is. The kingdom is flush with wealth, especially after Desmerada raided all the former nobles’ stores. And this was after she inherited Priam and Hecuba’s jewels. We are well stocked, I can assure you. Ah, here we are.”
He swung open a large, dark door, revealing his bedchambers within. “Do come in. Now, where did I put that key?” He made a show of digging around in a desk.
There were two doors, one at my back and one to the far left of the chamber that likely led to a dressing area. Two soaring windows perched on either side of the bed, giving an expansive view of the Darkwood. The bed was covered in rich velvets. Beautiful but highly flammable. I wouldn’t be able to light Sanguine up without risking burning down half the keep.