by May Dawson
An older Fae male, tall and rigid with silver hair, strode back toward us. He scoffed at Raura, who turned to him with irritation written across her face.
“They would be lucky to deal with Fenig,” he said. “Fenig’s too soft. Look at how she treats these orphans.”
“And yet, she outranks you, Denys,” Raura said lightly. She glanced at Lake meaningfully.
“She’s a guest here, as are you.” Denys said.
Lake handed his reins to Arlen, who gave him a look of disgust but took them. All I could see were Arlen’s mouth and jaw under his mask, but even that was enough to give me the sense that his mouth was permanently formed into a pout of disapproval.
“Should we say ‘guest’, really?” Raura demanded. “We had important work we were doing out on the Rift before Turic insisted we come for a visit.”
“Consider yourself lucky to be a guest, then.” Denys answered. Then, more loudly, he said, “Where are you going, Lake? I don’t need you to fetch Fenig for me.”
But Raura didn’t seem to hear. She was staring at me, her eyes searching my face in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. I shifted, glancing at Maddie, who shrugged at me.
The Fae were strange.
“Which one of you is in charge?” Denys demanded.
“I am,” Rafe said.
A little boy dressed in a tunic and trousers, bow slung over his shoulder, was creeping closer and closer to us. Tess came over and tried to head him off, but Denys noticed him and turned, an unpleasant smile crossing his face.
“Look, Nat,” Denys said. “We’ve got some of your kind here. Chained up, just as shifters should be.”
Oh, the boy was a shifter. I was curious about how they all came to be here together. The boy wore a metal cuff on his wrist that reminded me of the chains we wore, although his was carved with delicate Fae runes.
“Leave him alone,” Raura said, her voice dismissive.
Behind him, I saw Arlen go subtly rigid, as if he were tensing for a fight.
“What did you think I was going to do to him?” Denys said, his voice very quiet. “After all, Fenig has her special dispensation to gather all the strangest orphans she can find into her little keep—and that’s fine with me. You all can fight our wars.”
And die fighting, was the heavy subtext of his words.
“Tess, get the brats out of here,” Arlen said impatiently, striding forward. “They shouldn’t be in the same courtyard as the prisoners.”
Raura gave him a long look, and Arlen raised his hands to shoo her off too. Denys laughed out loud at the look on her face.
“It’s time for all of you to head to history, isn’t it?” Tess asked. She quickly cleared the kids out of the courtyard, glancing back at us all with a troubled look on her face.
The courtyard seemed quiet when it was just the Fae warriors and us, still in chains.
“You all look alike,” Denys said dismissively. “Which one of you is in charge?”
“I am,” Rafe started to say.
Raura spoke to Arlen softly. “That one is Fae. Half-Fae, at least.”
“Shut up,” Denys snapped at Rafe. He grabbed Raura’s shoulder impatiently. “Which one?”
“You need to wait for Fenig,” she said hotly. “I’m not going to let you torture them.”
“You’re not going to let me?” he said, a cold laugh in his voice. “You’re not the princess here, Raura. You don’t want to be, remember? You spurned your father.”
His gaze searched through the crowd and met mine. My chin lifted. Good. If it had to be one of us, let it be me.
Just don’t look at Maddie.
I knew she wanted to be treated like one of the team, and I tried. But if someone hurt her, I’d test if I could still tear throats out without being able to shift.
“Come here,” Denys growled, cocking a finger at me.
“I’m the one in charge,” Rafe said, stepping in front of me. “He’s just a member of my team.”
Denys ignored Rafe, his gaze on mine. “Come here, Fae-blood.”
Fae. Was I really half Fae?
The air seemed to crackle with the threat of violence. Whatever. If they thought I was Fae, I could head off the violence that seemed to simmer in the courtyard, and that was what mattered most.
I pushed past Rafe, and he shook his head at me.
“Come on, Rafe,” I said quietly. “Trust me.”
“I do,” he said, then turned to Denys. “What do you want with him?”
“Denys,” Raura said, “there’s no need to—“
“I’m going to say this one last time,” Denys said, his voice bored. “Bring the Fae-blood to me.”
Two of the Fae guards headed through the crowd toward us.
“I’ve got this,” I said hurriedly to Rafe. The looks on their faces promised violence, and I stepped forward before Rafe could object again.
“Now, Fae-blood,” the Fae demanded impatiently, gesturing to me.
Penn glanced at me, worried, and I bumped his shoulder as I passed him.
“Where are you taking him?” Rafe demanded.
Denys made the slightest gesture with two of his fingers.
One of the guards grabbed Rafe’s hair and shoved his head down, driving his knee up into Rafe’s face at the same time. Rafe let out a grunt of pain.
Raura was suddenly moving to get between the two of them, but Arlen reached her first, blocking her with his big body, shoving her back. “You’re going to make things worse,” he growled at her.
Lex took a step toward Rafe then stopped, as if his first impulse was to kick ass to protect Rafe, even in chains, before sense prevailed.
Silas’s magic sparked across his fingers, then died, and he frowned down on his hands. Fuck, our magic didn’t work here. Maybe the cuffs were enchanted somehow, or the keep was. A terrible sense of foreboding swept over me; we’d been counting on Silas’ powerful magic to keep us safe in the Fae world.
I could tell Maddie was about to charge at them, and I hastily looped my cuffed arms over her waist, holding her against my body.
“Calm down, Mads,” I whispered in her ear. “We’ll kill every one of them who hurt one of us. All right? Memorize their faces. Just…for now… calm.”
And as if those homicidal words spoke to her heart, she finally stopped struggling.
“Who’s in charge now?” The Fae asked as Rafe looked up, his face bloodied.
Shit.
Before Rafe could say something damning, I pushed Maddie gently to one side and stepped forward. “I am.”
To Rafe, I said, “Trust me. Please.”
“We do,” Rafe managed, his voice ragged, blood running down his face.
The Fae smiled thinly. “Good choice.”
There was no time to reel over the news I was Fae. My friends were depending on me. I stepped over the pool of blood across the floor, and two of the guards took me out down winding stone halls. I didn’t let myself look back.
Chapter Twenty
Tyson
We had run through endless worst case scenarios before. We’d discussed my role as third in line if Rafe and Lex were both killed. We’d discussed what we’d do if we were captured, and we’d planned what information we could reveal and what we couldn’t.
But that was different than the desperate racing of my pulse as I followed the Fae deep into the keep, leaving my friends behind. Denys led me into what had to be an interrogation room.
It didn’t look like one at first glance. I’d expected blood-stained floors, chains, something that stank of fear. Or at least, a plain table, bolted to the ground.
But this room looked lush, with windows open to a view of the forest below, the curtains rippling with the breeze. Ivy crept over the stone walls. The room was empty, and I turned back, curious.
Denys stopped in the doorway, as if he were waiting for something.
Suddenly, something curled around my legs and wrists, and I was yanked hard against the wall. I exh
aled a startled breath. My shoulder blades slammed into the wall, my head meeting the stone with a sharp crack.
The vines. I was strung up by my arms and legs against the wall.
The Fae sauntered over to me, his hands tucked behind his back, his expression relaxed.
“Why are you here?”
“We’re here in peace,” I said. “Just passing through.”
He stared back at me with a viciousness in his eyes that told me peace didn’t interest him much. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“In our world, shifters lost our magic to the witches.” My breath was coming short, since my strung-up position made it hard to inflate my lungs. “We came here to find something that would help us get it back.”
We could never tell them we were trying to steal the shield of Cain. It was a religious relic in their world too—something priceless. They wouldn’t help us.
Instead, we’d pretend we were heading to a location near the temple in pursuit of rare Hooksbane, which poisoned witch’s magic. We would pretend we were planning a counterstrike.
“Interesting,” he said.
The vines tightened, drawing my arms and legs steadily apart, and I gritted my teeth. Something in my left shoulder wrenched and pulled out, and I couldn’t hold back a scream as red hot pain washed over me, so intense that I almost passed out.
One of the Fae from the clearing who had fought alongside us came in, the big, blocky one, and leaned quietly against the door.
“What are you doing here, Arlen? Are you going to run to Fenig?” Denys demanded.
“Depends,” he drawled, picking at his nails with the tip of his gleaming knife. “Are you going to kill him?”
“I’m not planning on it.”
“Then neither am I.”
“She doesn’t have any power here, you know.”
“Eh. Agree to disagree.”
Arlen was still lingering there when the door opened. The Fae gripped my hair in his hand and dragged my head up. His eyes were so light a color that they looked crazy to me, and he began to ask me a question. Spit specked his lower lip, and it was all I could see; I could barely listen to what he was asking me. Beyond his face, I saw the door open.
“Lord, Denys, you are tiresome.” The old woman who had just entered the room chided. “This again? Always torture, torture, torture with you. You should take up knitting or the fiddle or something.”
Denys straightened, dropping my head.
“Fenig,” he began.
“Go away.” She fluttered her fingers at him impatiently.
“I will not,” he said. “I’m the captain of Turic’s guard—”
“When the Lord Regent isn’t present, the keep is my responsibility,” she said, her voice warning. “This is part of my territory by order of the Delphine.”
“He rules the spring court. The Delphine does not.”
The Delphine were the Fae’s spiritual leaders, and from what I’d read, they kept the rulers of the courts in check—a delicate balance of power.
I’d read about that balance, but it felt very different right now when it was no longer theoretical.
“And I rule this castle,” she said, her voice a dangerous caress, “And this room, and I will gut you where you stand, Denys. Run away and complain to Turic.”
He stared at her, an eerie calm coming over his face.
“He’s going to have you killed, you know,” he said. “When he becomes king. And I’m going to dance on your grave.”
“At least the sound of your feet should be less grating than your voice,” she said. “Do move along now.”
He stared at her, and I thought he might attack her. Then with a disgusted huff, he walked away from me. He slammed the door behind him.
“So dramatic,” she murmured.
She crouched to look at me, studying my face. “What is your name?”
“Tyson.”
“Tyson. Do I need to hurt you to get the real story from you, Tyson?”
The blocky Fae leaned against the wall again.
It took me a second to debate how to answer her, and without taking her eyes off me she said, “Cut him down, Arlen.”
“He didn’t answer you yet,” he observed.
She turned her head to look at him, and her voice came out cool. “I’m sorry, did you think I was deaf or feeble in my old age? Or was I simply unclear?”
He scoffed at that, turning the blade in his hand as he strode toward me. “We all wish you were deaf and feeble and not kicking our asses in the training yard, and you know it.”
She smiled faintly as Arlen began to saw through the vines that held my arms.
“Did you hear him?” she asked me. “Saying Turic would have me killed? Denys didn’t even kill me himself in his own damned daydreams. It’s pathetic, really.”
I knew Turic was the Lord Regent, who had replaced the king of the spring court when he died, but couldn’t officially take the throne. It was one of the many things we’d studied.
But I didn’t know who the hell this woman was who crouched in front of me on her heels, athletic and agile despite her white hair and the deep grooves of wrinkles under her eyes.
“He sounds like a real asshole,” I said.
Fenig and Arlen exchanged a glance, and then she burst into laughter.
The last of the vines gave way, ripping out of the wall. I tried to catch myself, but my knees buckled, and I fell to the hard stone floor anyway.
Immediately, I pushed myself up, ready to launch myself to my feet.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I’ll heal you. The pain’s not so bad when you know magic will take it away, right?”
“The pain’s pretty bad, actually.” I rolled onto my back on the stone, feeling muscles and joints pop as they moved back into place after being strung up against that wall. God, my body thought I was old after today—far older than the Fae in front of me.
She rubbed her scarred hands together and then held them out, hovering over my body.
“You’re always so maternal,” Arlen told her.
“Oh, shut up, Arlen. You’re always a dick-head.”
I might like her, actually.
Magic flooded my muscles, warm and healing. I let my eyes close, blocking out the unfamiliar setting, as my breath slowly returned to normal. I could get through this.
I opened my eyes as she rose to her feet and offered me her hand. I took it doubtfully, clasping her forearm, and she helped me easily to my feet.
“Come on,” she said. “This place isn’t all misery. I’ll show you.”
I limped behind her as she led me down the halls, and Arlen followed, watching me as if he intended to protect her. We passed stone rooms where ivy clung to the walls, and I kept hearing the sound of water running like a stream, though I couldn’t find the source. Sunlight streamed in through high windows, and the air smelled sweet and fresh.
She walked ahead of me into a long stone room filled with tables and benches. Their dining hall. Sunlight streamed through windows high above, and ivy clung to the stone walls.
“What is this place?” I asked her.
“This is South Keep.” Fenig gestured to me to sit, and sat on the bench opposite me. She moved with easy grace. She was tall and slender, her silvery-white hair wound into a braid around the top of her head. “We protect this part of the Fae lands from the creatures from the rips that you met—and so many more other interesting beasties.”
“And from trespassers.”
Her eyes crinkled faintly at the corners, and she inclined her head. “And from trespassers. Although I’d also consider you a beastie.”
I wasn’t as much of a beast anymore as I wished. “We don’t intend any harm. We had planned to stay away from you all.”
She drummed her fingers on the table, studying me. “Why did you come to the Fae world?”
“In our world, we’re fighting a war with the witches.” There was no point in lying to her; it was obvious the e
ight of us were a hunting party. “They put a curse on us. A Fae curse. We came here to get a weapon to strike back at them. They took our magic, and we want to take theirs.”
“Witches,” she repeated. “How exciting. Our part of the world doesn’t get many visitors.”
“They’re not that much fun, believe me.”
“What kind of curses did the witches place on you?”
It was supposed to be Rafe or Lex negotiating with the Fae if we were unlucky enough to come face-to-face with them. I hadn’t expected to find myself pleading our case to escape a Fae dungeon. No matter what anyone thought, I didn’t feel Fae.
“We’re shifters,” I said. Given that the Fae had manufactured the Dark Collar to control their own shifter population, I wasn’t entirely thrilled to reveal that fact.
She nodded, looking unimpressed by that revelation.
“The witches used the Dark Collar to take away our power.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “The Dark Collar was fractured into many pieces.”
“Well, witches are industrious. They found them.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “We’ve had other visitors, seeking the Dark Collar.”
“What happened?”
She gave me an enigmatic smile, and all she said was, “I wish I had killed them.”
That made my heart beat faster. We had killed those visitors—or at least, we had killed Winter--so it wasn’t as if the word itself made me shy. It simply reminded me that this woman would be willing to kill us too.
“We’re trying to find something to do the same favor for the witches,” I said.
“I see. You’re fighting for a world without magic?”
“No,” I said, because I doubted she thought that highly of our world, which had so much less magic than the other worlds through the portals. “We’re fighting for a world where they don’t have an advantage we don’t.”
“You’re blind, so you’d like to dig out their eyes as well.”
“That’s right.” I didn’t care how bloodthirsty it sounded.
“I can understand that sentiment,” she agreed. “Now why don’t you tell me what you’re really here for?”
I arranged my expression into innocence, and she said, “Please. I know you were playing that idiot—even though he didn’t realize it. Teasing out your lie while he hurt you, so he’d lick it up. Please don’t assume I’m so stupid.”