Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed. It was a softer version of the night fowl, but I couldn’t help thinking about Drayce. Had his spirit reached the Otherworld? Was he still in agony? A fist clenched my heart, making me gasp.
Drayce had said something about the palace interiors shaping themselves to fit the moods and whims of the queen. Queen Melusina was a usurper, unfit to rule. But what about me? I was the original queen’s granddaughter with a human and not a Fomorian for a father. Maybe that counted for something. What if that first morning, the palace hallways led us through a maze, delaying me out of dread for my mission?
I closed my eyes and wished, “Give me a fast route to Father. One that avoids any onlookers.”
To my right, a doorway yawned open, and my heart accelerated into a happy gallop.
It led to a well-lit, stone stairwell, and I slipped inside and took the stairs two at a time, hoping it wouldn’t lead me directly into some kind of ritual chamber. I shook my head. Thinking about morbid things would only make the palace fulfill what was on my mind. I needed to picture Father.
Before I found him, I needed the Book of Brigid.
“Take me to King Drayce’s chambers.”
Moments later, another door appeared on my left. I opened it a crack and peered through to find Drayce’s leather-curtained, four-poster bed. I stepped in, inhaling the leather and cedar scent filling the room. It conjured up the warmth and safety of resting against his hard, broad chest, and the comfort of his protection.
It had all been a facade, and I had been a fool.
My old clothes lay folded on the oak dresser, washed and pressed. I searched the bookshelves of leather tomes, running my fingers over the spines until I found one the exact shade of brown leather. I pulled it out and checked the cover. It said, ‘Book of Brigid.’ I put it back. The original had no lettering in the front, and if it was previously owned by Queen Melusina, it would not fool her.
“My Lady!” said a startled, female voice.
Coleen, the human girl who had drawn my bath, stood at the door leading to the hallway.
“Get inside!” I hissed.
She complied, shut the door behind her, and curtseyed. I narrowed my eyes. Why was she showing me such deference when she had mostly ignored me before? Also, now that I’d seen the state of the slaves in the laundry, Coleen looked unusually well-kept with clean, healthy skin, a roundness to her cheeks, and neat, blonde hair. Did she work directly for Drayce?
“How may Coleen be of service?” she asked.
“Where’s the book King Drayce brought back from the mortal realm?”
Coleen chewed her lip. “He told me to hide it.”
Excitement spiked through my insides, and I flattened my expression. She was no ordinary servant. I held out my palm. “Bring it here.”
She paused. “His Highness gave me orders not to hand it over to anyone else but him.”
“King Drayce is injured in the forest. The book contains a ritual to heal his wounds. Hurry. We don’t have much time!”
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she ran out of the room.
My shoulders slumped with relief, and I leaned against the wall and dipped my head. Riding through the skies all night had been exhausting, but I couldn’t afford to delay. I still wasn’t sure that the poison had killed or just paralyzed the soldiers.
She returned moments later with a bundle of rags. I stepped away from the wall and followed her to Drayce’s desk, where she pulled off the fabric, revealing the leather book I’d studied every night with Father.
“Thank you.” I picked it up and held it to my chest. “Why aren’t you ensorcelled?”
A smile curved her lips. “King Drayce doesn’t like mindless humans. He keeps me with all my faculties.”
My brows furrowed. “Why does he keep you at all?”
“My brother’s the sole source of income for our family and was about to be wed.” She shook her head. “He was dying, so I went to a circle of mushrooms and made a deal. His life in exchange for seven years of servitude.”
“How many years have you served?”
“Six and a half.” She rocked back on her heels. “King Drayce said he would deliver me home on the day our bargain is over.”
“And you can trust him?”
A smile danced on her lips. “It was actually a girl from my village who suggested calling on King Drayce. She served him for seven years, and he brought her back safe and with a dowry fit for a noblewoman.”
I turned away from Coleen’s beaming face, resisting the urge to rub my aching chest. Despite being my mate, he hadn’t even remotely extended any such generosity with me. “Thank you.”
“I hope he gets better soon.”
Guilt gnawed at my heart. With Drayce dead, I’d condemned Coleen to not having her end of the bargain fulfilled. I couldn’t leave her in the palace without his protection. Not when she’d entered into a bargain to save a family member.
Coleen tilted her head to the side. “My Lady?”
“What happens to your bargain if he dies?”
“I-I don’t know.” She clutched her hands to her chest.
“There must have been other servants who had bargains with the faeries who died,” I said. “What became of them?”
“There was a girl…” she hiccupped a sob. “She was passed on to the faerie’s older brother. He was a bone eater. But the book will heal him, won’t it?”
I shuddered, and a pained breath worked its way out of my lungs. The truth was too hard to admit, so I lied. “He won’t survive.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes brimming with tears. “No!”
“I’ll help you leave this realm. Come with me.” I focused on creating a secure passageway, and the door at the end of Drayce’s room creaked open, revealing a long hallway.
Coleen stepped back. “What is this?”
“We can’t leave without my father.”
“Ailill?”
I nodded.
She grabbed my wrist, eyes wide. “You can’t!”
“Why not?”
“I joined a few weeks before the Samhain Queen Melusina found you in the woods. She returned from that hunt, wailing that Ailill had been so close. She loves you both.”
I tilted my head to the side and stared into her eyes. They were just as full of awareness as any villager in Calafort. “What do you know about Queen Melusina?”
“Only that she’s strict and fair.”
“What of her plans?”
Coleen stepped back. “What plans?”
I shook my head. “She wants to unleash the Fomorians.” At her blank look, I said, “The monsters in the mist.”
“The mist is just mist.” Coleen backed away, gaze darting to the hallway door. “I can’t let you break Her Majesty’s heart. She’s only happy again now that she has Ailill back.”
My teeth clenched. Of all the naive, ridiculous notions. “Just because one supernatural being treated you with kindness, it doesn’t mean they all will. You’re one of the lucky humans. Haven’t you seen the dead-eyed beauties the noblemen take for lovers? What about the ragged, broken-down people working the laundry?”
She bowed her head. “Maybe they wanted it or weren’t clever enough to make good deals.”
“Make your decision,” I snapped, all patience incinerated by her callousness. “Stay here for eternity with your precious faeries or return to your home and family.”
“But what if King Drayce—”
“He’s not coming back!” I hissed.
Her eyes turned hard. “You never planned on healing him, did you?”
My nostrils flared, and I ground my teeth. Even salt couldn’t cure Coleen’s delusions. She’d told herself a set of pretty lies to survive her time in the palace. I couldn’t blame her for that, and if she wanted to stay, that was fine with me, but I would not let her interfere with my plans.
“I have to tell someone.” She bolted to the door and flung it open.
Coleen darted down a stairwell, and I picked up my pace. If I used the Dullahan’s bone whip, it would stop her, but it might also rip off her head. The gap between us increased. I reached for my sword and snatched my hand away. I didn’t want her dead, just silenced.
“Block the staircase,” I muttered to the castle.
A stone wall appeared a foot in front of her. Too close for her to avoid. She slammed into it, head first, and fell back onto the stairs.
Blood spurted from her nose, and she stared at me through dazed eyes. I knelt at her side, and a tiny whimper reverberated in her throat.
“You left me with no choice.” I shook my head. What was the point of justifying my actions to someone who would so easily condemn Father and me? I pulled out the Sword of Tethra and smashed its hilt against her skull. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her body went slack.
Coleen’s chest still rose and fell. I ordered the castle to create a cupboard. After ripping some fabric from her petticoat for later use, I pushed her into its depths and slammed the door.
Guilt plagued me like a swarm of midges, admonishing me for taking an easy, brutal solution. I shook my head. Even if she knew Father had been a slave for a thousand years and had been desperate to escape, she would have excused it away.
It still didn’t stop my chest from aching.
Inhaling a deep breath, I pushed away the guilt. It was time to rescue Father and return to Calafort. “Now show me a secure route to Father.”
The wall I’d created opened into a hallway with an upward slope. At the end of it stood a stone door. I hurried along the corridor, heart beating like a war drum.
Voices seeped through its gaps—a throaty, feminine laugh followed by a pained moan of a man exhausted by agony. I pressed my ear to the door and closed my eyes.
“Please… Don’t!”
My hands balled into fists.
It was Father’s voice.
Chapter 21
The pain in Father’s voice reminded me of winter days when his joints swelled and reddened with the weather when he struggled for every agonizing movement. When even my most potent pain-killing remedies would do nothing to ease his torment. I had wondered why at times like this, his eyes would still shine with love and gratitude. It was because he had been free.
Sorrow squeezed my heart, spreading its cold ache through my chest and up my throat. I placed my palm on the warm, wooden door and gulped. Poor Father. No matter what, I had to release him from this torment.
A hissing laugh seeped through the door. “Would you like me to replenish you with the life force of another servant?”
I clenched my teeth. She’d probably been feeding off him if she needed to steal another human’s life. I wrapped Coleen’s torn petticoat around my hand, making sure to tie it tightly so I could hold the grip of my iron sword. When I was sure it wouldn’t gape open, I drew back the side of my borrowed cloak and pulled out the weapon. A hum, like the wingbeats of a thousand wasps, started in the pit of my belly. Even cloth didn’t seem to be adequate protection from iron.
“No more!” Father cried. “Just let me die.”
“Never,” she purred.
Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, I eased the door open and stepped into a cloud of rose-scented perfume. A four-poster bed stood in the middle of a spacious room that was more cavern than boudoir. Its burgundy, velvet curtains were drawn, giving me the cover I needed to approach.
I scanned the rest of the room, searching for weapons, entrances, anything that might pose a threat. An archway at one end of the room led to a nursery, much like the one I’d seen in the pool. To its side on the far corner, stood a cage large enough to house a bear. It was lined with Father’s clothing.
Father’s whimpers and gasps tore up my heart, filling it with the resolve I needed to end Queen Melusina. Whatever she was doing to him had to stop. I wouldn’t tolerate any more of his suffering and torment. With all the strength I could muster, I crept forward. She crooned and chuckled and cajoled as though Father was her plaything.
My nostrils flared. She would die tonight.
A knock reverberated on a door on the other side of the room. My heart leaped, and I dove under the bed.
“What is it?” she snapped.
The door creaked open. “Neither Captain Stipe nor General Creach have responded to the crows I sent. We scried to see if anything had happened, and they are—”
“Where is the girl?” hissed Queen Melusina.
I lay flat on my belly, fists clenched and forcing shallow breaths in and out through my nostrils to calm my frantic heart. The book of Brigid had included a section on scrying. It was a form of magic that involved looking into a reflective surface to see the past, present, or future. Much like Ecne’s Pool.
If the queen had access to that kind of enchantment, she would find us. I clenched my teeth, waiting for her to order them to scry for my location.
An angry hiss rattled the bed frame. “Where is the girl?”
“I-I don’t know, Your Majesty,” blurted the voice. “The group stopped to rest in a clearing within the Autumn Forest. By the time we located them, wild animals were consuming their charred bodies.”
My insides writhed. I hoped the Keeper’s venom had killed them before the fire had spread or the beasts had arrived.
The queen’s feet hit the marble floor, and she padded across the room. “Drayce has taken her! Send Generals Gorm and Sorcha out to the clearing to track their movements. I want General Iann to scour the Autumn Court territory for signs of the pair.”
I held my breath. Why didn’t she order a servant to scry for me? Perhaps their methods only worked on the fae. She probably didn’t know that I’d turned into something other than human.
“Autumn, Your Majesty?” asked the voice. “With the entrance of the Otherworld being in the Winter Court, I would have thought—”
“Tell General Scale to scour that place, too!”
“And if we find Salamander?” His voice trailed off as they both walked down the hallway.
The door clicked shut, muffling her command. I exhaled a relieved breath, and my muscles relaxed. Whatever she ordered didn’t matter. Drayce was dead and probably already back home in the Otherworld.
I crawled out from under the bed. “Father?”
“Neara?” his voice was urgent. “I thought you’d been taken.”
“I poisoned the soldiers and left them in the clearing.” I rushed to the cage, picked up the bundle of garments, then pushed them through the four-poster’s velvet curtains. “Here. Put these on. We’re leaving.”
He exhaled, long and deep. “Thank the heavens you are well. We must hurry. A servant will appear soon to put me back in my cage.”
His words made my heart shatter, and I glanced at the small structure in the corner of the room. Our little home was a palace compared to that cage.
The springs of the bed shifted. Moments later, Father emerged, clad his shirt and breeches. Despite his haunted eyes and pale complexion, he looked better than I’d seen him before that Samhain night. Lines on his brow gave him the mature look of a man in his thirties, like Eirnin the blacksmith, but his hair was still the same vivid, carrot orange.
His face widened into a grin that melted my heart. I threw my arms around him and squeezed with all my strength. “Are you well enough to escape?”
He hugged me just as tightly then drew back, eyes shining like cut sapphires. “I’d try even if I were a thousand years old.”
Dropping my gaze to the blood smearing his collarbone, I gulped. I’d already discovered his true age.
“Where is Drayce?”
My breath caught. “Drayce?”
Father dipped through the curtains and pulled out his old pair of boots. He sat on the bed to slip them on and tied up their leather laces. “The one they call Salamander.” He st
ood and donned his cloak. “Queen Melusina cursed his appearance.”
“He’s…” An ache surged through my chest and neck, making my voice crack. “I left him in the clearing.”
His eyes rounded. “Why? He’s on our side.”
“He wasn’t,” I whispered. “And I’ve dealt with him.”
Father’s face shuttered. It was one of the expressions he would make after exhausting himself with warnings not to ‘do something foolish’ against the fae. He knew what I had done, but he was practical enough not to waste time admonishing me. “We must leave.”
Loud footsteps echoed outside in the hallway.
Father froze. “It’s the servant who usually puts me back in my cage.”
I skittered behind the door. “How many?”
“Just one. She uses an enchanted whip.”
I nodded, holding the cloth-wrapped grip of the iron sword. Whoever this faerie was, she wouldn’t get the chance to use it again.
The door creaked open. “Ailill, you had better be back in your place!”
Trembling, Father straightened his posture, pulled his shoulders back, and raised his head with defiance.
A tall female whose plum-colored hair swept down past her shoulder blades entered the room, holding a forked whip between long, clawed fingers. “Why are you—”
I plunged the sword in her back, not giving her the chance to finish her sentence. When she fell, we shoved her under the bed.
I ushered Father out through the exit I had made on the other side of the room, stepped through the door, and willed it back into a stone wall. Then I commanded the palace to lead us to the walkway where I’d left that capall. “I’ve worked out how to get the palace to create pathways.”
Coin-sized ventilation holes provided the barest of illumination, highlighting Father’s wide-eyed shock. “You can affect the building?”
“Yes.” I laced my fingers through his. “And I know why it responds to my commands.”
Curse of the Fae King (Dark Faerie Court Book 1) Page 19