Her hair was magically cascading in waves down her back. She came closer and glanced at herself, kohl went around the shape of her eyes and deep red lip balm coated her lips. She closed her eyes shaking her head.
It hurt her to see herself this way. It hurt her because she looked pretty and unlike herself. It looked like she played a foul game on herself, foul and twisted, tormenting whatever dignity she had left in her. She was a traitor of her homeland, but she felt nothing like it, not anymore at least.
She opened her eyes again and the face she stared back to her was the face of a female lady of the ton. She would have loathed her very skin if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of the atrocious scars raiding her pale flesh. She winced and shook her head as she chanted a few spells and the concealment haze was placed over the mars.
She cleared her throat. She hadn’t shown them to anyone except Ardan who was the one who had treated them.
She bit her lip giving in to the sudden desire to call herself beautiful. She shook her head, foolishly smiling. She decided that she would go to the dinner like this, wearing a dress and without her sword. She twisted about the havoc in the room and found her dagger. She stuffed them to her heeled boots and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
No, she couldn’t go there and leave the Sword behind. She grasped the golden handle in her hand, chanted a series of long spells that looked like murmurs and strapped it onto her leg, underneath the dress, willing it to vanish against her skin.
Cassia took in a heavy breath forcing back all those little freedoms she had acquired in the last hours and left the room.
She descended the stairs, happily knowing that Griswold Blackthorn was not there to throw at her another cruel remark.
Pulling down the stairs, she came face to face with gasps and gaping mouths. She contained her eyes on the onyx floor and bit her tongue as her hand fell carelessly from the handrails. She cleared her throat as silence fell over them and raised her eyes.
Mithras moved forward first breaking the uneasy silence. He bowed before her and offered her his arm which she gladly took.
Mordas though came closer, cleared his throat angrily and raised a defying eyebrow at his brother. “Not so fast, brother. I believe the enchanting lady would prefer my arm better than yours.”
Mithras glared at him and huffed. “Please, everyone knows I am better than you-”
“I don’t want to know,” Cassia said sharply and smiled sheepishly at them, She shook her head laughing. “I believe I have two arms one for each of you.”
They smiled both of them as she shook her head and offered her other arm at Mordas. The two brothers grinned at each other as Beathan flashed all of them to the city, outside his favourite restaurant.
+ + +
“Otho, I think you are drunk.” Argoth squealed from the other side of the table as his head fell onto it with a sigh.
“M’alright,” Otho mumbled. “When the twins became four?”
Hianos squirmed at his seat, grabbing Otho’s glass before the elf brought it to his lips. “That’s enough for you, Otho.”
“Give it back.” Otho shrieked as Hianos pushed him onto the table and he fell without a word, his eyes closing.
Cassia’s two escorts were fast asleep on either of her sides, snoring lightly and unaware of the world around them. There was nothing she could do to awaken those two.
She turned her eyes towards Beathan. He smiled warmly. Thankfully he and Hianos hadn’t indulged themselves in too much of wine drinking like the rest of them had done.
“I think it’s time to return back to the palace,” Beathan said and stood from his seat.
“What are you going to do with them?” Cassia asked and sighed heavily.
“We’ll tuck them in bed.” His eyes brows shot up.
+ + +
It was highly amusing to her to see all those mighty Lords acting like little girls whining and mumbling in their sleep incoherent things. It was amusing, she laughed loudly as the last of the sleeping Lords was clumsily placed onto his bed and the three of them fell exhausted onto a sofa in the living room.
It was fun, the funniest she had been in many years. It was comforting that even though through these dark times people could still find it in themselves to be merry and happily toy with their misfortune. She blew a few strands of hair away from her face and continued laughing with the rest of them.
“Then, he fell on his arse.” Hianos laughed and leant back as he finished speaking about how clumsily and inelegantly Mithras fell from his bed.
It was a fine night and she flew on cloud nine from the cheerfulness that enclosed about her. Her hair had turned frenzy, but she couldn’t possibly care about it. Beathan shifted closer to her, his head resting on her shoulder as he sighed and closed his eyes.
It was strange at first, but then she swallowed the urge to slap him and tug at his hair to pull him away. She bit her lips and shook her head. It wasn’t that bad and Ethan she hoped didn’t have any ideas about advancing on her. She would not be amused to bind him on a chair for the rest of his life.
“Look at you!”
Cassia’s eyes shot open and Ethan jumped at her side at the harshness of the words and the spite that they held. Griswold stood before them, his hands firmly clasped behind him as he glared daggers down at three elves in the sofa.
“Pathetic!” He barked. “All of you.” He clenched his jaw. “Drinking away all night and now...” He trailed and shook his head angrily.
She rolled her eyes and slacked back onto the sofa. “None of your concern, snake.”
Griswold straightened his back and glowered at them with disgust written all over his face. “You were all indulging yourselves in wine while the King requested a truce.”
She shot up from the sofa, nudging Ethan and Hianos at the side. Fear went over her as Aine’s words washed throughout her. They grasped around her and twisted her mind in a knot unbreakable from the forces of nature.
“What does this means?” She glared at him from down her short built and pursed her lips.
He kept his face with an unreadable expression, his eyes stony and unmoving as he looked at her with pity. “He wants to negotiate about taking you back, princess.” Griswold straightened his spine. “You were correct. He does have spies around here and he knows about your...deflection.”
All of his words dawned upon her, pain shot through her chest. It had been good for as long as it lasted, freedom. It had felt good, but now that she had tasted it, she didn’t want to let it go. It was unfair, unfair and hideous, but she knew that she had to return back to him at some point. They were bound by ties stronger and bolder than magic and blood.
“He will stop assaulting the borders and has given up Navacore completely to us.” Griswold continued, his voice held something more than simple anger and agitation.
She lowered her eyes to his chest, the black cloth gave nothing away and she found her thoughts being absorbed from her as if something was trying to ease her pain, but it couldn’t go away, it couldn’t. The King was a part of her; he was the one that moulded her into the being she was. She could not neglect him; it would be like tearing herself apart.
She cleared her throat and straightened her back. “You have to give me over to him. You have to. At least, he would stop his efforts of getting past the wall.”
Griswold laughed bitterly as he glared down at her with the eyes of a predator looking towards his prey. “What makes you think that he would not step on his word? You above all people should know and don’t forget about the Sword.”
She shook her head. “I will make sure he won’t reach it.”
Ethan stood along with Hianos and approached her; he placed a hand on her shoulder. She knew he did it to comfort her, but her mind was already backing to its former restraints and the world was spinning around her, spinning like mad. She could listen to Aine’s voice telling her that she knew what to do.
I knew... I knew...
She tu
rned and looked at Ethan, his eyes pleading her to stay where she was, but her mouth had a mind of its own. “You must hand me back to the King, please.”
He shook his head.
“Do what I tell you, Ethan. Trust me, please. He didn’t succeed in breaking me and he was trying for centuries. I will tell him nothing, I swear it on my mother’s grave.”
“Sia,” he began, but she waved her hand at him to stop.
“Do this for me, please.”
Ethan shook his head again. “He will torture you and he will do anything to see what kind of information you have. He will...” He trailed shaking his head in anger.
“I won’t, I promise. I will return and when I will...” She nodded fiercely, glancing at him with certainty, the certainty that she never knew she possessed in these dark times. “He will meet the gods of the Underworld.”
He merely nodded to her relief. He must have understood the strength of her words and accepted. She smiled at him then and bit her bottom lip. “I will return.”
I knew...
She cleared her throat and straightened. “Hianos take Ethan to his room and lock the door.”
Hianos mumbled something about being careful and pulled Ethan out of the room. She glared at the door as if the demons of the Underworld had come there and were baiting her to go to them. She heard the lock twitching and cold sweat erupted on her back, down her spine.
She turned to Griswold who had narrowed his eyes on her. Her throat bobbed and she was afraid to speak for she was certain her voice would break and incoherent sentences would be all she could manage.
She shook her head, gathering her strength to face him without faltering. “I want you to do something for me...” She trailed and inhaled soundly, swallowing her pride. “Please.”
54
He blanched and shook his head. "No," he said suddenly. "No, I will not help you with the Sword. You must face the consequences of acquiring it. Find a way to hide it yourself. Take your pretty lycan and leave."
He turned to leave, but Cassia took a step forward, her hands shot before her, even though they ached to touch the Sword to her side. She growled annoyingly, Cassia had enough of Griswold’s childish attempts to belittle her. Maybe he was jealous of Ael, maybe he was not, but Cassia could not go on anymore like this.
Griswold turned around, glaring at her with all the hellish spite he could muster.
Cassia clenched her jaw, preventing her mouth from spewing all the foolishness and brashness in her soul. "You might have just signed your own death sentence."
Griswold moved forward, swiftly and brutally almost knocking her off her feet, but Cassia kept her head high, her strange eyes meeting with his as he hissed, "We were just fine before you walked into our lands."
"Don't forget that you summoned me to your side. I am not your enemy, Griswold."
"Wrong," his voice dropped to a hissing whisper, like a snake slithering against the earth. "They called for you, I never gave them my consent."
"Indeed, but you did nothing to stop her, or prevent me from taking the Sword from your aunt."
His grey eyes, ghostly and silver, narrowed, his head tilted to the side, glaring down at Cassia.
Cassia's mind worked swiftly, her thoughts linking together to find one weakness in Griswold. She blinked rapidly for a moment before she took a step forward, her chest colliding with his. "Do it for Mersila."
A long, strenuous silence overtook them as if a veil of darkness fell onto Griswold’ss soul, his eyes darkening, a hidden promise concealed itself somewhere in there and Cassia struggled to keep her eyes on his, whatever he was if his mother had been a full-blooded fairy like the Snow Maiden, then by gods he was not to be toyed with. Cassia though knew how to manipulate the most sadistic King, a half-blood fae was the least of her concerns.
His features changed, contorted to sheer mock at he towered over her. "You think you know everything, don't you?"
"I never assumed that I do."
The windows flared open, cold breeze, swift and powerful flew into the room, the heavy curtains moved, danced and twisted around themselves. Cassia shivered, the room was plunged into frost and icy breeze. On the onyx floor, against the dark stone, a thin sheet of frost appeared, spreading like a snowflake up, towards the tall pillars with the magnificently carved crowns. Griswold’ss eyes changed shade, almost white, almost like the frost lying on the onyx walls and floor.
Cassia shivered again, her fingers were freezing as her hands hung limply at her sides. No, the magic wasn't coming from her. She had never had magical outbursts. Cassia had ever been the dominant mistress over her magic, always in control, never slipping, not even when her parents had been killed before her eyes. Never.
Maybe she had pushed Griswold’ss buttons too much, maybe the mention of Mersila turned him into a crazed beast. Cassia had been most foolish to address his weakness to lure him to her cause. Griswold’ss magic moved, twisted and encircled them in a cocoon of frozen feelings and hot, unyielding rage. Cassia should have known better. The frost spread again, reaching the mirrors, covering the glass and wood furniture as everything creaked, ready to break, shatter in a single word from Griswold’ss lips.
Cassia winced as she moved her hand up, trying, attempting to touch his cheek. As soon as their skin made contact Griswold jerked away as if burned. He growled, the most animalistic sound Cassia had heard, and hissed. A pair of elongated canines, white and sharp, shone at the edge of his mouth.
"Never," he growled again. "Never touch me again."
The glasses and mirrors broke, shattered with a loud creak. Shreds of sharp crystal flew towards Cassia, but she was quick erecting a green shield of magic around her, forcing the shreds to jump off the shield and fall on the carpet.
The frost gave away slowly as silence covered them both. Griswold straightened his spine and tipped his head up, gathering his magic back inside him. Cassia remained there, gazing at him with a blank expression, trying not to show any hint of emotion. If he had been any other elf, fairy or whatever he was, she would have fought back, she would have done something other than stay there, glaring at him and cursing him silently with every foul word she knew.
Cassia summoned her magic and altered her clothes, turning the lush, green dress into black leather jacket and pants. Her sword appeared to her right side and the Sword lay silently by her left hip, the sharp edges of her daggers grazed her calves inside her boots, but she paid it no attention. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid. With his help or not, Cassia would hide the Sword from the King, from everyone.
"If you do not want to help me, you should have said that from the beginning. There was no need to break Beathan's crystals and freeze my arse off." She shook her head, taking in a deep breath to ease her mind. She turned around, taking a step towards the window.
"You better brace yourself."
She pressed her eyes shut as she stilled and allowed a small smile to form on her lips. She turned around, pursing her lips. "Why?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Would you have another outburst?"
He shook his head. "The place," he cleared his throat. "The place I will get us to is deep in the dragon territory above Kypriantha, it would be better if you are prepared, the weather there is not as amiable as here and the dragons are not..." He tilted his head to the side. "They don't welcome outlanders, especially Nevdori ones."
Cassia shook her head, at least he was going to help her. A small smile rose to her lips, she quirked an eyebrow. "Didn't you know I can tame dragons?"
+ + +
The cold swirled around them, Cassia's braid was slowly giving away as little tendrils of hair flew around her head, onto her eyes, she pushed the back angrily with cold fingers and tried to remain concentrated.
The snow flew in circles, in various other directions, concealing everything around them, dimming their sight. Cassia inhaled deeply. Smoke. The winds smelled thickly of smoke and burned soil. Out of her better judgement, Cassia had summoned her strength
and tried to trust Griswold as much as she could. They were not the best of friends, they barely tolerated each other, but yet there they were, on a Dragon mountain, deep in Dragon territory.
Cassia's eyes struggled to see through the snowflakes, but she could barely see a few feet away from her. Their boots were knee length dipped into the snow. She assumed they were on a sierra, somewhere in Kypriantha. She shook her head, throwing the tendrils of hair away from her face with a grunt. She turned around, her eyes meeting with the stormy grey of Griswold’ss. The frost bit into her skin, but she was used to it. Her initial concerned snow and winds and ice, but after all these years, she barely knew what she was.
The winds grunted again and the heavy smell of smoke came swifter again. The flapping of wings echoed dimly through the mountains, under all the sounds of nature. Cassia blinked, her eyelashes were iced with a thick veil of snowflakes, she could barely see before her. She raised her hands and rubbed her eyes, her cheeks, trying to bring back the colour to the frozen flesh.
She blinked again, staring at Griswold. His hair flying madly around his head, a cocoon of whiteness, the snowflakes on his eyelashes did nothing to dim the shade of his eyes. A pale creature, created, built, designed to endure, to match the harshness of Nature. A deadly, lethal but handsome monster, unyielding, unfaltering. Whoever had created him, must have had an epiphany of sorts.
Cassia shook her head and shouted through the loud winds, "Where are we?"
"Niddhug," he replied, taking a look at the wall of the mountain they stood upon. "This mountain was made from the blood of the first dragon Lord. The Sword would be safe here."
Cassia shivered. She didn't know how he was going to do it, but she knew that for the mountain to accept the Sword inside the Dragon Lord's blood should drip over the snow. "You could have given me a warning. Even I can't flash in here."
A War of Silver and Gold Page 45