by Emma Hamm
Only then did she spin on her heel, nock her arrow, and let it fly into the leaves beyond.
Her target fell from the trees with a loud cry, then landed on the ground in silence. One down. Now she had two more arrows and whatever others she could rip out of the carriages.
The Umbral Knights all turned as one toward her, as though she were the person attacking the brides.
Damn it. She was trying to help them, and no one could control the shadow soldiers once they set their eyes on someone. One of the nearest Knights drew his sword and the metal contraption that made up his body thundered toward her. Step by unforgiving step.
She didn’t have a sword. She had a bow, and arrows would do nothing against the smoke inside that armor.
Some force slapped her in the back. Then a horrible sound wrenched through her body. She fell to her knees with her hands over her ears as the cry of a dragon ripped over their heads. The force had been wind, she realized.
The dragon had arrived.
One giant wing landed next to her. She stared in horror at the claw that was as long as she was tall. Dark red scales covered the flesh, while the membranes of his wings spread back with deep blue veins. He flexed his claw, and it left deep furrows in the ground. Through the thin membrane, she could see the dark outline of Umbral Knights that had frozen in place. Staring at her through the flimsy barrier.
Breath shaking, eyes wide, she looked up into the massive eye of the dragon. His elongated snout created a narrow structure for his face that led back to twin horns on either side of his head. Large tusks framed his mouth, while even more spikes trailed down his muscular neck.
He stared down at her with a tilted head, as though he were trying to figure out what she was. Some kind of little bug that had somehow gotten stuck between his claws. But then an arrow sliced through the air again and bounced off one of his scales.
With a rippling snarl, he turned toward the trees and let loose a mouthful of fire that spewed across the forest.
“No,” she whispered, letting her hands drop into her lap. Limp.
She could hear them screaming. Those ancient, beautiful trees. They cried out in pain as the sap inside them boiled and the men in their branches fell, ripping and tearing until they hit the ground.
The entire grove died while she listened to their cries.
And when the dragon was done, he took off into the air without a second glance at the woman who knelt on the earth between his claw marks. Hands grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back toward the carriage. But she didn’t care. All she could hear was the sound of death in her ears.
Chapter 11
Lore
By the time the carriages arrived back at the castle, Lore could have sworn most of the young women had forgotten anything happened at all. She stepped out of their transport, expecting to see tears and screams as the potential brides fell onto their knees in fear.
What she ended up finding in the castle courtyard was a handful of stoic fearful children, while the rest stared at the spiked towers in awe.
Lore could admit that the castle was intimidating. With its large, twisting spires built out of white marble, the gothic building was stunning. It captured the attention immediately, as no other building in Umbra looked like… well…this. But wasn’t that the point?
The Umbral Kingdom was one of shadows and darkness. Most of its inhabitants knew only hardship and difficulties. The castle, however, was pristine and clean as the day it was first built. So many of the young women who had arrived here in the carriages had never seen a building like this before.
Lore didn’t like it. The extravagant show of wealth was clearly driven by a man who cared little for the rest of his kingdom. Even the courtyard was perfectly swept, as though no horses or carriages ever drove on the square marble stones.
Beauty paused beside her, hands still shaking. “What do you think?” she whispered.
“About what?”
She eyed the young women who stood at the front of the crowd. Those were the ladies that she had to worry about the most. The blatant display of death hadn’t phased them in the slightest. They all stood with bloody hems, some of them even had blood on their hands, but their hungry eyes were turned toward the castle.
They cared little for the loss of life. They hardly even cared that someone had died in front of them. All that mattered was that their future was within their grasp. The castle was right here. The King was beyond those doors waiting for them, and that’s all they wanted.
Lore didn’t question in the slightest that the King had gone ahead of the caravan. If he had been attacked, the Umbral Knights would have shown a lot more aggression. Instead, they had merely stood around, wondering what to do with themselves while the brides died.
With a soft sound, Beauty stepped closer to Lorelei. “About the other brides? Some of them don’t even seem... Well...”
“They don’t care that others have died,” she said to the girl. “I think we have some competition here, dear girl. And that means that these women will stop at nothing to get the King.”
She wanted to warn Beauty to keep her wits about her. The only way either of them was going to make it out of this alive was by watching each other’s back. But could she trust the young woman? She really didn’t know if she could trust anyone here.
The doors to the castle opened and a pinched-faced woman walked into the courtyard. Her white hair was swept back on her head, so tightly that it pulled the corners of her eyes back. A good thing, considering the wrinkles that gathered around the woman’s eyes and lips. Permanent frown lines grooved her forehead, and Lore knew this was the person who actually ran the castle.
“Ladies!” the woman shouted, clapping her hands for silence. “You may call me Agatha. I am the head housekeeper of the castle. Anything you might desire or need should be sent through me first, and then I will give your request to the King. In the meantime, you are to be cleaned, washed, and clothed before supper. Is that clear?”
All the other young women nodded.
“Good.” Agatha’s eyes found Lore.
She knew what the other woman saw. A bride older than any of the others, holding herself strong and proud, as though she were above all this. Lore wouldn’t hold herself like a child, nor would she try to hide her own confidence. And yet, her clothing was ripped, she was covered in blood, and the hard edge in her eyes likely gave her away as something other.
Agatha sniffed and then walked back to the castle, clearly dismissing the sight of such a horrid creature.
“Wow,” Beauty whispered. “I don’t think she likes you.”
“No, I imagine she won’t like me. Ever.” Considering Lore would be the biggest thorn in her side. “Shall we follow them?”
“I don’t think we have much of a choice, now do we?” Beauty held out her arm for Lore to take. “My lady.”
Lorelei snorted, but linked her arm with Beauty’s. “Lady? I don’t think I have ever been called that before.”
“Well, someone should. You saved my life back there, you know. I don’t have a doubt about it. I think, maybe, you saved all our lives with that arrow you loosed. Killing that man gave all the others pause and the dragon enough time to arrive.” Beauty shuddered as they walked up the steps to the giant wooden doors. “I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t done that. They would have killed all of us.”
Probably. Lore knew that the attackers had only one goal in mind. They wanted to ensure that the King never passed on his lineage. They wanted the line of the Umbral King to end here and then let the kingdom fade into chaos as they all tried to figure out who was more deserving of the throne.
That was the rebellion’s work, but she didn’t think Margaret sent those men. They had been too clumsy. Too green. Margaret wasn’t so foolish as to send men who were clearly not warriors to do a job like that.
Was she?
Lorelei shook her head and tried to focus on the matter at hand. She nee
ded to infiltrate the castle, and the easiest way to do that was by becoming friends with the servants. They were the ones who knew the real comings and goings of a building like this.
Now the question was how to find them. They ducked into the shadows, hiding behind Umbral Knights, as if they weren’t even here. Other than Agatha, of course, and that woman wouldn’t help her.
A slight tug on her arm turned her attention back to the girl hanging off her. “Look,” Beauty pointed ahead of them. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
Lorelei didn’t want to know. She looked, though, and she wished she hadn’t. The King had filled the grand foyer with paintings and trophies from his father’s era. From the time when mortals had seen creatures like Lorelei and decided to tear apart what they saw.
Small stands held the trophies. Some of them were skulls of beasts the King’s father had killed. Others were items from her kingdom like swords made by elf hands, wands made of an ent’s favorite branch. But the thing that caught her attention the most was all the jars that hung from the ceiling and cast twinkling lights over the entire room. Like prisms hit by the sun.
Her breath caught in her throat. She released her hold on Beauty and nudged her forward to the other girls.
Her voice was only a little thick when she said, “Go on ahead. I don’t like to be in crowds, but I think you should make some friends.”
“I thought we were friends,” Beauty replied.
She heard the hurt in the girl’s voice. Lore couldn’t forget that the only other brides Beauty had talked to only commented on her weight.
Fiercely protective, she bared a feral grin at the perfect young woman in front of her. “You have nothing to fear, my girl. The only people who would dare say anything mean to you already got what they deserved. A drowning in blood and a great loss. Now go into that crowd with your head held high because you are just as terrifying as the dragon who saved us. Remember that.”
Beauty lifted her chin and made her way into the group of young women. She really was beautiful. Regardless of her shape, that young woman would become a force to be reckoned with. Lorelei knew it.
She waited until the brides had all but left the grand hall before she turned to the nearest hanging jar. Her heart clenched in her chest and tears gathered in her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she gently unhooked the jar from the tie on the ceiling.
A tiny woman pressed her hands against the inside of the jar. Her wings glowed bright yellow, so brightly that it was almost painful to look at. Her entire form was light at the moment, but Lorelei remembered when the pixies had sat on large leaves next to her, at least ten of them to a leaf, while they watched the moon festival.
She’d been a child back then. But the pixies had always been her favorite. They were so hard to find other than at the festival, when they were happy to let everyone see their bright glow.
The pixie pounded a hand to the glass and let out a tiny squeak.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say. But I’m going to let you out.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His warm voice was unexpected, although she should have guessed he’d be here. Abraxas always seemed to show up when she least expected him.
Lorelei turned and put the jar behind her back. “Do what?”
“Let that pixie out of the jar,” he replied with a soft snort. “Or do you think I didn’t notice you pull it down from the hanger?”
She had to figure out a way to distract him so he wouldn’t notice that she was twisting off the lid of the jar. “I think it’s strange that you’re following me, sir. Unless you actually work for the King. In which case, I must say, I have a lesser opinion of you than I already did.”
“I would imagine it would be hard for me to lower your opinion any further, and yet, I must.” He swept into a low bow, though he watched her every movement. “I am part of the King’s personal guard. The head of it, in fact.”
“You are not.” Just one more slow twist and the pixie would be released. “What a horrible job for such a handsome man.”
“Handsome?” He looked up at her, mouth slightly ajar. It seemed like he struggled for a moment to find the words. Time suspended between them until he straightened with a laugh. “Now I know you’re hiding something. You would never call me that unless you were up to mischief.”
“I wouldn’t know the first bit of it. Exactly what are you accusing me of, Head of the King’s Guard?”
There it was. The lid of the jar popped out of her hand and the pixie attached itself to her back. She could feel the tiny creature’s claws ripping into the fabric at her spine. A couple more tears and it would be able to slide into her dress and hide. Smart little thing.
“Lorelei,” he growled. “I said don’t let the pixie out of the jar.”
She pulled her arms out from behind her back, the jar in one hand and the lid in the other. “Oh, this jar? I’m afraid you didn’t tell me fast enough. If I had known it contained such a dangerous creature, I never would have put everyone at risk.”
Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“Damn it, woman,” he snarled. “Do you know how long it took for the King’s servants to capture those? Gathering pixies is risky business, and he’ll notice that one is missing. Then I have to make up a lie about why one is gone.”
“Why would you have to make up a lie?” The pixie burrowed into the small of her back. It tucked itself into the hollow of her spine, pressed against the two hills of muscles. “You could always tell the King that you saw me do it. He would send me back to my boring old life in Tenebrous and no one would be the wiser.”
“He’d kill you for touching anything that was his.” His eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, it almost looked as though they had turned an even brighter orange. But then he shook his head and took a step away from her. “No, I don’t plan to tell him it was you.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“I will not tell you why, just let no more out!” His hiss echoed through the room. It bounced off the ceiling and struck her again.
She refused to feel guilty for doing what was necessary. The pixie didn’t deserve to live out its days in a jar. She didn’t care what the King wanted with them.
Lorelei squared her shoulders and endured his anger. But she would not rise to the same folly. “They will die in jars like that. They have to be in nature. To feel the sun on their skin. Otherwise, all their light will die out and then they’ll be pressed against the glass, begging for someone to help them. But none of you can hear their calls. Over and over, they will beg until they shrivel up into little husks of pixie skeletons. All alone.”
He flinched with every word, backing away from her and shaking his head. “It’s funny how you think I can’t hear their screams.”
Only magical creatures could.
She narrowed her eyes. “Just how would you be able to hear them, Abraxas?”
“There’s more to this place than you know.” He nodded at her, dismissing the conversation with far too much ease.
Abraxas tucked his hands behind his back and suddenly, he looked like a royal guard. That straight spine. The empty expression as he stared over her shoulder, not wanting to get involved in anything that his king would disapprove of. “You are requested to be with the other brides at all times. If you don’t go now, then Agatha will report you to the King.”
“For what? Meandering?” She gestured at the room. “This place is supposed to be mine one day, anyway. Why can’t I explore it?”
“You can test your limits with me, Lorelei. But I cannot promise that Agatha will give you as much leeway.” His brows furrowed and his gaze hardened yet again. “Now go find the other brides before someone notices you are missing.”
“Yes, sir.” She clacked her heels together and pressed a hand to her forehead in salute. For good measure, Lorelei dropped the jar onto the floor and had the satisfying mom
ent of seeing him flinch at the sound of broken glass.
Let him try to order her around. Let him try to convince her that others in this castle were more dangerous than him. Whatever his reasoning, this guard seemed like he had a soft heart. He wouldn’t give her up.
But as she left the room, he called out, “And do something with that creature in your dress! If someone sees you with it, your head will roll tomorrow morning.”
Perhaps he had his limits, then.
Gulping, Lorelei sped up down the hall where she had seen the tail end of a fancy dress rounding a corner.
Chapter 12
Abraxas
He had to admit, the curious woman had him wrapped right around her finger. Anyone else, he would have sent to the dungeons for touching one of the King’s captured magical creatures. And yet... He couldn’t. Not with her.
The idea of her in those damp dungeons sent a chill down his spine. Or perhaps it was a pulse of red hot anger that made him want to punch something. Abraxas hated that he was under her spell.
She’d held the jar with such careful hands. The golden light of the pixie’s body had spilled over her features, delicately highlighting the lovely bow of her lips. But it wasn’t her beauty that had stopped him. It wasn’t the stunning picture she painted that tugged at his heart.
It was the way she stroked the jar and how her heart had sped up when she looked at the pixie. She cared about the creature. And that kindness didn’t match the woman he’d seen at the attack.
Her arrow had flown straight and true. Even with the warped wood and poorly fletched ends, she had sent that clumsily made weapon straight into the heart of the man who had fired it.
He had never seen a woman do that before. He’d never even thought that a mortal woman could be so deadly. She hadn’t even hesitated.