Bright Wicked 3: Infernal Dark (A Fantasy Romance)

by Everly Frost

  He is also beyond me now.

  I turn away before he can see the pain in my eyes. I have a job to do: Free my father and retrieve Nathaniel’s weapon.

  “The way is clear,” Evander says with a stern glance at Serena that tells her to behave. She shrugs in response before she leads the way into the corridor.

  “I’ll try not to burn anything down,” she whispers with a smug wink as she prowls ahead of us.

  We stay on alert as we approach the entrance room and enter the Inner Sanctuary. Nathaniel matches my careful stride, always in tune with my pace.

  The Inner Sanctuary is empty. As we suspected, the south wall is open and the room is exposed to the elements. The chill night air rushes through it, whistling along the far corridors.

  The fountain in the center of the room is silent and still. The flowers that normally fill the room are gone, except for a few golden roses sitting in a discarded basket on the floor. I used to believe that the Queen filled the flowers in her Inner Sanctuary with the essence of her power, that when she gave a flower to a fae, she was sharing her power with those who needed light in their lives. Now I believe that the flowers are receptacles of dark magic—like the poisonous violet rose she sent to Crispin—ready to use if she needs them. She also gave flowers to Nadina and Serena to allow them to use their firelight at night.

  Serena bends and picks up one of the discarded golden roses. A smile spreads across her face. She quickly pins the rose to her armor before she extends her hands. Flames burst into life around her fingers. But her expression quickly falls as she gestures around the room. “The Queen has harvested all of her flowers tonight. Each of her guards will receive one. They will defy the night to use their power.”

  Evander sighs. “I don’t suppose there’s Frost power in one of those roses?”

  Serena shakes her head. All four discarded flowers are golden. “I’m sorry, no. But I will take one for Calida.”

  In the distance, a squadron of thunderbirds, including the Queen’s crimson bird, soars away in the direction of the border. As we watch, another squadron appears high above us, following closely behind the Queen. It won’t be the only one. If she’s called all of her guards, then hundreds of thunderbirds will soon swarm toward the border. Cyrian may have a hundred hunters, but they will never match the ferocity and sheer numbers of the fae warriors.

  “We need to move quickly,” Evander says. “Imatra’s orders could change at any time. We can’t assume we’re in the clear.”

  “I’ll stay up here and keep watch,” Serena says, taking up position in the opening leading down to the Spinning Lake.

  “This way,” Evander says to me, leading Nathaniel and me to the back of the Sanctuary. Once there, my brother runs his hands across the wall, seeking the hidden door. “Talsa said it was around the middle of the wall, but I can’t—”

  “Here,” Nathaniel says, pressing his palm to a portion of the wall with a cluster of pastel roses painted on it. He tests a section of the wall on his right before a click sounds and the passage opens up.

  Evander looks surprised, but I’m not. Nathaniel identified the concealed door between my room and Imatra’s before I told him it existed. It could be because of the starlight he absorbed into his body for all of those years or simply because he’s perceptive.

  Evander doesn’t waste time asking questions. He strides along the dark corridor situated immediately in front of us while we follow closely behind until we reach a set of stairs. A light glows below us, but it’s coming from the right, as if the stairs spiral around before they reach the bottom.

  Evander gestures quietly, indicating that he’s going to descend. I stay close behind him, reaching for Nathaniel’s hand, checking that he remains close to me. No matter what happens, I need to make sure he stays alive.

  Our steps are light. Silent.

  My skin crawls the moment I set foot on the top step behind Evander. An icy chill runs through me. A cold burn.

  My eyes widen as I recognize the malice of dark magic in the steps beneath my feet. It’s in the air I’m breathing. I glance at Evander, but he keeps moving. He doesn’t seem to sense it.

  “Evander, stop!”

  My shout is drowned in the explosion of fire that cuts across the staircase, billowing across my brother’s body and knocking him down.

  Chapter 19

  My starlight bursts outward, released from its constraints, forming a shield of glowing starlight that envelops Evander, me, and Nathaniel. Pushing back the fire, my magic hums like the glitter field, soft where it touches us but sharp at its edges.

  The flames shriek away from us, leaping away from the edges of my power before the fire forms the shape of daggers—hundreds of them—that stab at my starlight.

  I brace, but the flames don’t pierce my shield. They sizzle and die, vanishing into the air.

  With a groan, Evander slumps to the steps. I reach for him, but Nathaniel is already at his side, catching my brother before he tumbles down the staircase.

  “He’s alive.” Nathaniel grips Evander’s shoulders. “His armor protected his body, but his face and hands are burned.” Nathaniel’s lips press together with worry. “He’s not in good shape, Aura.”

  The shield of my magic fades as I kneel beside Evander. My magic flickers hard inside my chest as I take in all of the damage to his face. “Brother, can you hear me?”

  When he doesn’t respond, I place my palms in the air on either side of his head, careful not to make contact with his burned skin. Calming warmth spreads through my fingertips and glows across his temples. It will keep him pain-free for now.

  Tears trickle down my cheeks, but rage rises with them. “That was a trap set for Evander, triggered by his Frost power. I felt the chill before it struck.”

  Angry regret fills me. I should have been using my power to shield us, starting from the moment we stepped through the door. I’m still discovering the extent of my power, but a shield like the one I produced when the fire struck would have protected Evander.

  “I can carry him down the stairs,” Nathaniel says. “Crispin can heal his burns. We need to get them both out of here.”

  Nathaniel maneuvers Evander so that my brother rests across his shoulders before Nathaniel rises upright again. I make sure Evander’s head remains steady and that his burned skin doesn’t press against Nathaniel’s shoulders before I step back.

  My brother is not a small person. I suddenly flash back to this morning when Hagan carried Nathaniel to Treble’s back. Latent panic grips me and I clutch my thigh so hard, I’m in danger of ripping the training suit I’m wearing.

  I swallow a sudden sob, trying to push away my emotions, unprepared for how strong they are. Using my power seems to increase the intensity of my feelings, making me feel raw, far less in control. Two days ago, when I took Nathaniel to Crispin and asked him to heal Nathaniel, Crispin told me that old magic is filled with all of the nuances of the human heart: both light and dark, happiness and sadness, anger and love. All of these things rage through me right now, heightened with every passing minute of life I have left.

  I hurry down the next three steps ahead of Nathaniel so he doesn’t see the flood of tears I’m holding back.

  “I’ll protect you both,” I say, forcing my voice not to wobble as Nathaniel follows me, his steps careful now that he’s carrying Evander.

  Nearing the bottom of the staircase, the room opens up around us. It’s like stepping into the White Walls all over again and I shiver at the cold memories. The walls and floor here are lined with pristine white marble, except that golden chains are securely bolted at intervals along the walls.

  Crispin is shackled to the opposite side of the room, fully alert but gagged. His shirt is ripped and his ash-gray hair is singed on the ends, indicating that he was attacked with firelight. His gray eyes widen as soon as he sees us. He freezes in the act of tugging on his restraints. His gaze quickly takes in Nathaniel carrying Evander and then stops on me.


  I haven’t seen what I look like now, but I know I don’t look like myself anymore, not like the daughter he knew. He watches me with a startled intensity, his strong eyebrows drawing down into a perplexed frown.

  I read the question in his mind, the question that broke me apart: What is she?

  It’s impossible to speak with him. Nadina prowls back and forth in front of him, dressed in full battle armor. She is the Captain of the Queen’s Day Guard, the one who threatened Crispin in his home and attacked Nathaniel above the glitter field at the end of our first day.

  She’s wearing another one of those damn golden roses.

  She grips Nathaniel’s halberd in her right hand as she paces, but she isn’t tall enough to hold the halberd easily, pointing its blade down so that the shaft extends upward parallel with her arm.

  Her eyes widen when she sees me, her jaw dropping a little before she collects herself.

  Her upper lip curls in disgust, as if she considers me to be disfigured now. “The Queen said you’d changed.”

  “Then she wasn’t lying,” I say. “For once.”

  Nadina has never been easily intimidated. Tiny flames dance along the surface of her sleeves and lick around the tips of her fingers where she grips Nathaniel’s weapon. “She also said you’d come for Crispin and, if you did, I am to kill him.”

  I pause before I take another step. Nathaniel stops behind me, slightly to my left, but while I freeze in place, he proceeds to the side of the room. He carefully slides Evander to the floor, propping him into a sitting position against the wall. Nathaniel appears completely unaffected by Nadina’s threat, taking his time making sure Evander will remain upright, my brother’s head supported against the wall.

  Nathaniel’s measured movements make Nadina twitch, which only makes me relax. She won’t like that he’s ignoring her.

  A drop of sweat rolls down the side of her face, betraying her nerves. The shrill tone of her voice conveys her fading confidence as she takes a step toward me. “I can burn you and your family to ash, Aura. I’ll give you one chance to walk away, but if you don’t, I’ll start with killing your beloved father.”

  She points the halberd at Crispin, who watches Nadina with caution. It would have taken more than a few women to restrain him and bring him here, especially if the Springtime fae tried to protect Crispin. A faint bruise across Nadina’s cheek indicates she was wounded during the capture.

  I exhale and inhale a calming breath. I wait for Nathaniel to return to my side. His focus is now fixated on his weapon, the gleaming blade swinging at Nadina’s side—where it doesn’t belong. His gaze follows the line of her firelight down her sleeve, across the back of her hand, but the halberd’s shaft doesn’t catch on fire despite being wooden.

  It looks like the light repels fae magic, just like we saw in the glitter bulb memories.

  It’s time to test whether the halberd repels old magic too.

  Nathaniel glances at me, his muscles tensing a second before my right arm shoots up.

  My power wells inside me, an endless tide that I’m holding back. I don’t have to call it. There’s no split second of waiting. It’s part of my body, covering me as closely as my skin. It follows the path I want it to travel, the perfect angle with the perfect amount of force.

  Starlight streaks toward Nadina.

  Her firelight sparks a second later than my power, dragging from the golden rose, filling her free hand, coursing toward me in retaliation.

  My power hits exactly where I want it to: the curved, silver blade. The impact is so sudden and fierce that it knocks the weapon from Nadina’s hand. The blade spins midair and lodges in the wall behind her, far enough from Crispin that it’s in no danger of hurting him and close enough that Nathaniel will be able to reach it without crossing paths with Nadina. At the same time, my starlight bounces off the blade, cutting across the air in front of Nadina’s chest.

  She screams but doesn’t try to retrieve the weapon, focusing her attention on me.

  My power floods the space in front of me as her firelight hits me, the stream of her flames boring into the surface of the shield around me. Needing to keep her attention on me, I stride toward her, lifting my arms to pour starlight through the stream of her power, slicing through it.

  She raises her other hand, firelight streaking from both her palms, pouring across my starlight like lava, but I only increase my pace.

  A moment later, I reach her at a run.

  My right fist snaps out, cracking across her cheek, starlight flickering through her cheekbone on impact. At the same time, I grab her left wrist, wrenching it upward. Starlight and firelight splash around us like droplets of water, our magic sizzling in the air.

  She tries to kick me, but I spin, jolting her arm backward, forcing her to lurch forward so I don’t break her limb. I leap back when she retaliates.

  I could finish her, but I release her instead.

  I now stand between her and Crispin, one arm outstretched, ready to let my power loose, warding her off.

  Across the way, Nathaniel braces against the wall and wrenches his weapon out of it. The moment he touches the handle, a flicker of light travels up his arm and through his chest, burning gold across his heart.

  The magic he took from me sparks against the light magic in the blade, a dangerous combination that takes my breath away. If I’d had the sliver of my heart when I first met him, I would have seen it then. But what would I have done, if I’d known everything I know now?

  Finally in control of his weapon again, Nathaniel steps toward Crispin, shouting, “Lean forward!”

  Crispin immediately obeys, stretching his chains taut behind himself and closing his eyes. It is an act of pure trust. Nathaniel could cleave Crispin’s head from his shoulders. Hundreds of years of war between the fae and the Fell should tell Crispin not to trust Nathaniel at all.

  Nathaniel swings the halberd, slicing cleanly through the chain constraining Crispin’s right arm and then the one holding his right foot. The shackles around Crispin’s wrist and ankle remain in place, but he is half-free from the wall.

  As Nathaniel swings his weapon again, this time aiming for the remaining two chains, Nadina demands my attention, flinging firelight at Nathaniel to stop him.

  My hand darts out and my starlight cuts right through her flames, deflecting the fire onto the floor at Nadina’s feet.

  She flinches and lurches backward, her chest heaving. “I should have been the one to challenge you at the Winter Ascending,” she snarls. “I would have killed you.”

  I tilt my head as I consider her. She was certainly the one I’d predicted I would be fighting. I was surprised when Imatra chose Calida, but then I found out that Imatra had leverage over Calida that would ensure Calida did everything she could to kill me. Nadina, on the other hand, has never loved anyone enough for the Queen to have any leverage over her.

  Winning a fight is not only about strength and skill. It’s about knowing your opponent, their weaknesses, strategizing how to use those weaknesses against them. Nadina is proud and overly confident. She’s accustomed to bullying those who are vulnerable and controlling those who are as strong as her. If I attack her pride, she will remain focused on me and not on what’s happening around us.

  Behind me, Nathaniel has freed Crispin, who races to his son’s side, checking Evander’s wounds. He needs time to heal Evander, which I plan to give him.

  “Why don’t we find out?” I say to Nadina. “Just you and me. Whomever subdues the other first.”

  She can’t kill me. I can see her working through the consequences in her mind, but I don’t want her to think too hard about it.

  Before she can respond, I step forward and backhand her across her cheek, right where she already has a bruise.

  It’s a deliberately provocative move.

  She sucks in an angry breath, retaliating with force, her fist aiming squarely for my stomach. I allow her to land the punch, grab my arm, and swing me so that my
right arm is curled around her chest. Her left elbow cracks across my face before she wrenches herself around again, still gripping my arm and forcing me into a crouch. We’re now facing each other again.

  A cruel smile spreads across her face. “You’re not so strong.”

  Pulling me upright, her free fist cracks across my face before she releases me. She is not lithe and agile like Calida. Meeting Nadina’s fist is like greeting a bag of rocks.

  Warm liquid trickles down my cheek—blood—but Nadina takes a quick step back as she focuses on it, a suddenly startled look on her face. I don’t have time to check the liquid to see what has surprised her so much.

  She quickly hides her expression, charging toward me again.

  Across the way, Crispin pulls Evander into a hug. Evander’s head drops to his father’s shoulder. He’s still unconscious, but the quick view of his skin tells me he’s healed.

  Nathaniel crouches and pulls one of Evander’s arms across his shoulder and Crispin turns so that both men rise up with Evander between them, carrying him by supporting one of his arms across their shoulders.

  I’ve bought them the time they needed.

  My right foot snaps out in a solid kick that knocks the wind out of Nadina’s chest, her own momentum adding to the force of the blow. I follow through with two fierce punches before I leap, knocking her off her feet and onto the hard marble floor. She screams, not expecting the full force of my fists since I went easy on her before.

  My knee lands on her chest, pinning her down while my power sizzles through my hands, my palm hovering above her face and casting starlight across her startled eyes.

  “It’s over, Nadina,” I say. “Only the fight between Nathaniel and me will determine the fate of the fae now.”

  She snarls up at me. “You were never worthy of Imatra’s attention.”

  “Her games, you mean,” I say. “She plays games with everyone, Nadina. You just don’t know it until the rope she placed around your throat squeezes so tightly that you can’t breathe anymore.”