Baen took us back to his home and Finelle was settled in his bed. Linden stood beside her, fists on his hips. ‘She’ll be well,’ he assured me. ‘I’ve seen much worse than this a thousand times over.’
‘She can’t go home in that state. My whole family will panic when they discover I’m not with her.’
‘Then we should all three go back together—now.’
‘You know I can’t do that.’ I took a step closer. ‘Stay with her while I go talk to Baen.’
He nodded slowly, but didn’t look happy.
‘The price,’ Baen said the moment he saw me.
I frowned. ‘You owe me. You said so yourself.’
‘I owe you a favour—a spell, a bit of magic to make life more pleasant—in fact I probably just repaid the favour by saving your life.’ He grinned. ‘Smile Marla, that was a joke. But my price to challenge Rual isn’t. A bargain.’
‘No bargains.’
‘If I survive, you will have a choice—or rather your king will.’
‘What choice?’ I asked, dread creeping into my heart.
Baen pressed his fingertips together. ‘Your soul or his.’
‘What?’ The word came out sounding ragged.
‘If he tells me to take your soul, I swear I will not do it. You may both go back to Faera with my friendship and good wishes. If he tells me to take his soul, then take it I will. We both know it will be far better if he is enslaved to me rather than Rual.’
‘Maybe you are more evil than I thought.’
Baen’s eyes opened wide. ‘Me, evil? No—I just enjoy a good game. And this will be a good game. The rules are simple—you may beg and plead with him. You may fall on your knees and tell him you cannot bear for him to be enslaved. You may lie in any way you wish to make him choose to give me your soul instead of his own. But you may not tell him the truth. You may not say if he chooses you, then you both go free. You may not even hint at it. If you do, the bargain will be void and your soul becomes mine—in which case, I’m sure your king will only trade his away to free it again.’
‘What if he refuses to make a choice?’
‘Then you will make it for him, and again, if you choose to enslave yourself, I will not take you. That’s how certain I am he will be too honourable to allow me to take your soul. And if I’m wrong, I will have fun imagining the dynamic between the two of you when you get back home.’
I could see only two options: leave King Telophy with the psychotic Dark King and return to Faera with Linden and Finelle, or take my chances with Baen. There was no contest. Rual was cruel in unthinkable ways, but Baen, even without possession of Fae souls, had some fairness about him. Still, I had to be sure.
‘I have two conditions: the first is that I agree to your method.’ I didn’t want any more surprises like Naobe’s invisible glitter. ‘The second is that you vow not to use King Telophy’s power for evil of any kind.’
‘Done,’ Baen said without hesitation. He lifted his hand to mine and together we released the essence that would seal the deal—a thin strand of pale pink leaving my fingers and curling towards him, and a slip of his glittering black tinted midnight blue coming at me. When the colours had captured us and faded to invisible, he wove his fingers through mine. ‘Good luck to us both, Marla.’
We flew along the side of the cliff, our reflections rippling on the surface of the river as it snaked around the mountain. When the river flowed into the mouth of a cave, we followed it inside.
Random splashes of coloured light lit the way, past doorways and alcoves, until we alighted by a little home hewn into the stone. Through the window, golden light shone behind a curtain of flowers and greenery hanging upside down in bunches. Baen knocked on the door and the plants were pushed aside, a pair of eyes appearing in the gap they made. Baen wiggled his fingers in greeting and the door opened to reveal a dark faery wearing not much more than a smile. She had a floating quality about her— almost hypnotic. She leaned against the doorframe, her auburn hair falling to her waist, green eyes flashing. ‘Baen.’
He kissed the hand she lifted to him. ‘Seersha.’
She stepped closer as she said, ‘You want me?’ Then linking her fingers in the front of his pants, she tugged downwards. My eyes popped as the strips of leather lacing the front of his pants gave way, unravelling quickly and seemingly of their own accord. Baen caught the fingers that dived inside. ‘Not today.’
Seersha pouted as Baen fixed his clothing, and not bothering to even glance my way she said, ‘Who’s this?’
‘Marla. She is come to help me defeat Rual. I thought you might like to assist.’
The pout evaporated as her top lip curled. ‘You know I would do anything after … last time.’ She placed a hand on his bicep. ‘And when you are King, I would want you to come back for …’
Baen caught her around the hips, pulled her body to his and dipped his tongue into her upturned mouth. He kissed her so slow and deep I had to find somewhere else to look. ‘As soon as I am able,’ he told her when he drew away.
‘I’ll take your vow on that.’ She released him and led us into a candlelit room. The walls were filled from top to bottom with shelves, stacked to overflowing with books and baskets and rows of bottles and jars, stone stoppers enclosing the powders and liquids within.
Seersha went to the kitchen nook and selected a cauldron from the various sizes hanging in a line. She caught Baen’s eyes. ‘What is it you need?’
‘I need Marla to be my eyes. I need to see what she sees.’
Unease prickled along my veins. ‘I want to know what being your eyes involves before I agree.’
Before he could answer, Seersha said, ‘It involves a spell between Baen and I. You need not be concerned. The magic will only sit on your skin until it is either rubbed away or washed off.’
‘Sounds perilous.’ Baen smirked. ‘Perhaps something a bit more permanent?’
I gave him a look. ‘I’ll be careful.’
Seersha picked out an ancient book the size of three bricks, then began gathering bottles and jars and stashing them into a bag. On top of that she threw in a few odd-looking implements before giving everything to Baen and leading us out of the house and back to the river.
On foot we followed Seersha deeper into the cave, the drip drip drop of water echoing. When I mentioned it would be much quicker to fly, she shot a scowl so venomous over her shoulder it made me flinch.
Baen leaned in close. ‘When last I went to war with Rual, Seersha came with me. The price was her wings.’
I thought of Leif’s long recovery. Even one lost wing was death to a faery, any faery. Baen must have seen my confusion because in a whisper, he added, ‘They were absorbed into her body in exchange for … other things.’
A kind of sick, creepy feeling clutched my insides, but Baen said no more about it and soon we arrived at a series of rock pools. Seersha chose one not much bigger than a bathtub—an almost perfect circle with a layer of fog hanging just above its surface. She knelt before it and, closing her eyes, began to chant as she moved her hand through the water. Slowly the fog started to shift around her fingers, taking on a strange electric blue tint as it began to hum. It spiralled and thickened into clouds as the noise turned into a crackle, moving faster and faster, expanding until it had engulfed our bodies and filled the air around us. Then at once the clouds evaporated with a loud snap.
I drew back, horrified, my questions about other things answered. The dark faery reflected in the water was unmistakably Seersha, but hideously scarred. Deep runnels ran down her face and chest, like she’d been clawed repeatedly by enormous talons. One eye was a mangled slit, her nose all but obliterated. A thick strip of hair had been torn from her scalp, in its place, lumps of scar tissue. And she was missing fingers—the first and third on her left hand, the fourth on her right. I turned to Baen. ‘When this is over, you must take Seersha flying.’
He grinned. ‘What else did you think she wanted of me, Marla?’
Seersha sat back on her heels, beautiful once more as the reflection disappeared. She held a hand to Baen. ‘The book.’
He handed it over and she opened it, flattening the pages. On them was a list of instructions in scrawling script, notes and diagrams jotted at the edges. She pushed the book aside and began taking things from her bag, lining them up and removing lids. She lit a small fire by striking two orange-flecked stones together. Then, placing the cauldron over it, she began singing the ingredients in:
Sight beyond the field of vision,
Borrowed eyesight freely given;
Bound as one in joint decision,
Come together, spell enliven.
Nightlin eyes to show the way,
Scent of whelp, maternal sway;
Caught together, speed the day,
Two now one prevent delay.
Heart of flixen, killed mid fight,
Wing of whipbird shot in flight;
Mix them, tie them, bind them tight,
Strength and speed go with the sight.
Blood from both, a tiny prick,
Cooled in water double quick,
Tears of user makes it stick,
From her to him, dark vision trick.
As she spoke the last words, Seersha drew a dagger from the bag and jabbed first Baen’s index finger, then her own, before stirring several drops of their blood into the potion. Then she upturned the contents of the bubbling cauldron into the pool, a dark, dense liquid that hissed and spat and came together as though magnetised, forming a gummy blob. Scooping it out, she pressed it in her hands until it had hardened completely, before grinding it to a powder.
Tipping Baen’s head back, she sprinkled the dust into his eyes. Baen hollered, his tears mud thick and blackened, oozing. Seersha was ready, catching them in a tiny bottle even though her own eyes were rapidly glazing over with pale fog. She asked for my hand and after I’d given it to her, groped around in her bag until she found a tiny slip of translucent film which she placed on the inside of my wrist. Then, despite the fog that had turned her eyes utterly white and sightless, she painted a perfect eye over the top of it. ‘While this image remains on you, Baen will be able to see all you see.’
‘When I can see,’ Baen said, scrubbing at his eyes.
‘Your vision will soon return to normal,’ Seersha said as she gathered her things. ‘But it is your mind will see as Marla does.’
‘What about your vision?’ I asked her.
‘While my mark remains intact, the power of my eyes will be with Baen.’
I turned my wrist to look at her mark, wondering if I only imagined the sensation of Baen staring into my eyes. I looked at him and he laughed, his eyes swollen shut and trailing black tears.
Seersha reached out till she found Baen, ran her hand down his chest. ‘Master, remember your vow soonest.’
He covered her hand with his. ‘I repay my debts, Seersha—as you know.’
She leaned close to him, finding his eyes with her fingers and wiping away the last of his blackened tears. ‘Then haste, Baen, and kill him well.’
Chapter Thirty-three
The plan seemed straightforward enough: return to the Dark King’s castle, find Rual and keep him in sight. Baen would gather his warriors and follow. When I arrived however, I was hit with the thump, thump, thump of heavy music, and as I flew closer, there were many more guards on duty than there’d been before. As far as I knew, only one was loyal to Baen—Darmon, the dark faery I’d witnessed bleed to hasten Darmon’s true master’s healing. Careful to stay out of sight, I crept around the castle until I found Darmon guarding a side entrance. He shifted his position to hide me and in whispers I told him Baen was on his way to challenge Rual.
‘When will he arrive?’
I turned my wrist towards him. ‘He’s watching everything I do. Help me get to Rual so he can follow. I’m pretty sure I know where he is.’ Briefly I explained about the trapdoor in Rual’s wardrobe.
Deep lines formed between Darmon’s eyebrows. ‘You say Naobe went into this tunnel?’
I nodded and he turned to the nearest guard, telling him he needed a break.
When we reached Rual’s balcony, he didn’t even try to hide us from the guard, alighting by him and pressing an ear to the door. The guard stared at me, eyes full of curiosity.
‘Give me the key,’ Darmon said.
The guard swore and shoved Darmon away. ‘You’re going to get us killed.’
Darmon shoved back. ‘Baen’s orders.’
The guard handed over the key, and a moment later Darmon was turning it carefully in the lock, cracking the door open. Dagger raised he peered around the edge before ushering me inside.
Nervous, I crossed the threshold into Rual’s room. Darmon came in behind me and tossed the keys to the guard, who promptly closed and locked the door.
I went immediately to the lamp stand and reached underneath. As I suspected, the keys weren’t there. Rual had to have gone down the tunnel.
The trapdoor in the wardrobe floor was open, a halo of light at the entrance and the thick scent of sulphur not quite masking the hint of something rotten crawling up with it. Every nerve pinged as I sat down and swung my legs in, watched them dangle into the tunnel.
Before I had time to overthink, I pushed off, tamping down on my urge to scream as colours zipped past me like fireworks. I spiralled down and down, the temperature rising and the slope gradually levelling out, delivering me with a soft thud on to a mini mountain of furs.
The stench was overwhelming—rotten egg and damp, and swimming beneath, unmistakable now, something rank. Knowing Darmon was right behind me, I crawled across the furs towards a glass-smooth path curving around a maze of weeping stalactites, their jagged points swirling with mist and threatening to cut. I stood just as Darmon shot from the tunnel, my head spinning from the slide down and stench. Without speaking, we started down the path, the dark faery keeping several paces behind me.
Creeping along the trail, we wove in and out of the sharpened points the colour of misted ice. Occasionally, the cavern would widen before narrowing again—the stalactites and stalagmites closing around us like the great jaws of a slumbering beast. Eventually, it opened up on itself into a vast cathedral, sheaths of pale pink and peach flowstone falling like veils from the ceiling. And all around us the sound of dripping water echoed as that stomach-wrenching smell grew so bad I had to pinch my nose to keep from throwing up. Worse, I could sense utter despair, and it was growing stronger.
King Telophy was down here.
A forty-five degree turn and my stomach slid up my throat. Retching, I slapped both hands across my mouth. A narrow stream of boiling red water flowed at the end of the path, and strung above it, Naobe. She hung from hooks implanted in the cave’s ceiling, her body bruised and blood soaked, a grimy cloth gagging her. And all around, decomposing bodies and piles of bones.
Darmon’s wings flashed open and he was with Naobe. Closing my mind to everything else, I flew up after him, supporting Naobe’s shuddering body as Darmon lifted her down. Between us we carried her to the ground and lay her on the path—a heaving breath and piteous cry when the gag was released. Darmon took the waterskin from his side and held it to her lips. Then he tore a strip from his pants and began bandaging the worst of her wounds.
But he was Dark Fae, without spirit to give him love and light. So why would he risk himself for her? ‘Who is Naobe to you?’ I asked him.
‘Rual thinks she is his,’ he growled. ‘But she is mine.’
‘You knew what we would find down here,’ I murmured.
‘I’ve heard rumours of this place. The Underground—the Dark King’s punishment room … few come out alive.’ He tied the knot on a bandage. ‘He would never store the soulless body of a faery here.’
I frowned. ‘So why bring King Telophy?’
‘A faery trap, what else?’
Of course. He’d suspected my presence in his bedchamber and wanted me to follow
. He’d wanted me to see his treatment of Naobe. Nausea rolled through me. ‘So where would Rual have taken him?’
He touched Naobe’s cheek. ‘Hopefully she will have the answer to that.’
Naobe’s eyes opened and drifted to mine. ‘Rual knew it was me.’ Her voice was a ragged whisper and she gave a gurgling cough. ‘The magic. He made me confess to helping you.’
My stomach plummeted. This was on me. I’d got her into this trouble. Gently I lay a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry, Naobe.’ I showed her the mark on my wrist. ‘Baen’s coming. He can see everything I see and he’s on his way to challenge Rual.’
A faint smile touched her lips. ‘Then it was worth it.’
When she was able, Naobe told us that as far as she knew, my former king was in the east tower where the Dark King kept all his soulless Fae.
I rose to my feet. ‘How do I get out of here?’
Chapter Thirty-four
‘I wish to see Rual,’ I told the guard on duty, my voice loud and level so it would rise above the thumping music coming from inside.
‘But does he wish to see you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, going for boldness as I wove around him and went up the stairs. ‘Of course, if he does and you don’t tell him I’m here, I wouldn’t like to be you.’
His mouth stretched into a grin. ‘Well aren’t you manipulative?’
Reaching for the door handle, my trembling fingers belied my confidence.
Lightning fast, the guard flew up the stairs, putting himself in my way. ‘I know my king’s enticing, faery, but patience,’ he said, letting me inside with a low and mocking bow. He closed the door behind him then held his hand up for me to wait before disappearing behind the velvet curtain.
Inside, the music was deafening and reverberated through every wall. It travelled through the cool stone floor and into my bare feet, weaving a strange spell as it pulsed through my body, through every nerve and muscle. It slid into my mind, extinguishing every other thought. Soon it was all I could think about. Where was it coming from? The dungeons? The rooms above? My eyes strayed to the crimson curtain, the chains gently rattling, the fabric stirring as though caught in a draught. I drifted across the floor and pushed the curtain aside. The room was empty. On the far side was an archway, a corridor leading from it. Coloured lights bounced in the darkened room at the end, making my head swim, calling to me, drawing me in. Yes.
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