by L. V Russell
Tears ran down my face, my breath catching in my throat. A thick tongue darted from between black lips and licked them away.
I turned my head away from Laphaniel, who still fought against the beasts holding him down. I turned away.
Clumsy paws petted over my jeans, rummaging beneath my hoodie then my top. My bra-strap pinged against my shoulder, snapping. It inched lower, its hot breath puffing over my face.
Then stopped.
A sudden, guttural rasp spilled from its mouth. An arrow jutted from its eye socket, causing it to jerk once before toppling onto me.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. Couldn’t move.
Someone dragged the weight from me, and Laphaniel was there, on his knees, hands coming around me to haul me close. “Say something, speak to me.”
I blinked and met his eyes. “I’m really cold.” My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.
I shifted my gaze to the other bodies surrounding us. Arrows stuck out from all their heads. Their yellow eyes remained open.
“I ran as fast as I could,” I said, noticing the armour-clad knights surrounding us.
“I know,” Laphaniel answered, his voice unsteady. “I know you did.”
A blanket was draped over my shoulders, soft and warm. Laphaniel made to lift me into his arms, but hissed in pain as he bent low, one hand going to his ribs.
Another set of hands lifted me up, quick and rough, shoving me into a waiting carriage before I could draw breath. I cringed at his touch, brief as it was. Laphaniel’s low snarl echoed off the brittle trees.
Soft black velvet surrounded us, the seats covered in thick furs. Candles swung from bronze cages above, the glittering light illuminating the moody decadence. The luxury unsettled me. Rattled me.
Anger began to seep through the growing numbness, I clung to it like a life raft.
“I couldn’t get to you. I was so close, but I couldn’t get to you.” Laphaniel lifted a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, and for the first time, I sensed him hesitate before he touched me.
“Don’t,” I snapped, “Don’t treat me like I’m broken.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I’m not broken.”
“I know, Teya”
Someone rapped on the carriage window, startling both of us. I turned to meet the deep hazel eyes of what I assumed to be an Unseelie knight, the eternal twilight caught the black of his armour, making it gleam like old oil. Laphaniel tightened his hold on me.
“Ready to go?” asked the knight.
“Yes,” Laphaniel replied, the word a soft snarl.
“You are fortunate we found you when we did. If we were not expecting your arrival, then I doubt there would have been anything left to save.” He flicked his eyes to me again, lingering on my torn clothes. “Nothing much, anyway.”
I cringed at his implication before realising what he had just let slip. “My sister knew we were here?”
A slow, cruel smile spread over his lips, his eyes dancing. “We knew the moment you crossed the river.”
“She waited until now to send help?” I asked, searching the knight’s face for any hint of remorse, mercy, or kindness. I found none.
“Does that surprise you?”
My body and soul hurt. “No.”
He turned his dark eyes onto Laphaniel, the coldness within them, turning to something with more malice. “Welcome to the Unseelie court.”
He moved away and called to someone up ahead, then there was the sound of snapping reins, and the carriage lurched forwards. Laphaniel remained tense even as he drew me back into him.
“At least Alice wasn’t with us,” I said, unable to wipe the greasy feeling from my hands. It covered my clothes. Everything. “If they had caught her…”
“But they didn’t,” Laphaniel cut in.
“Does this feel like a huge mistake to you?” I asked, jolting in the seat. The carriage thundered through the woods, banked either side by knights with cloaks of raven feathers that snapped behind them like wings.
“If it is, then neither of us will leave these lands alive.”
Chapter Seventeen
Branches rattled against the carriage as we rode on and on, thin boughs dragging along the glass like spindly limbs. I jumped the first time I heard the scraping of wood, and the second and third. By the time we drew to a stop, my nerves were on fire.
The carriage doors opened upon a wide courtyard, the stone walls utterly black and so smooth they reflected everything like dark mirrors. Bonfires smouldered in the centre, the embers barely flickering. Ash swept over the ground, dragged up into the air to eddy around us.
“Traitors,” one of the mounted knights pointed out as he passed by. “Scum.”
He spat on the ground, giving his horse a sharp kick to move it on. I looked away from the bonfires, away from the stakes I could see through the thick smoke.
“You would look good tied up there, pretty boy,” smirked another knight. “Though we have wagers on who will skin you first.”
Laphaniel bared his teeth, a snarl rumbling its way up his throat. The knight took a step closer, stopping a breath away from Laphaniel’s face.
I grabbed Laphaniel’s elbow in warning as his fist curled at his side. “Don’t.”
The knight turned on his heel, not giving us a backwards glance.
I held a hand to Laphaniel’s chest, feeling the anger and fear and hate bubbling just below the surface. “You can’t fight them all.”
He didn’t look at me, his heart a wild thump against my palm. “I know, Teya.”
I kept my hand on his arm, the muscles beneath my fingers tense. Together we stepped through the thick smoke smothering the courtyard to behold the towering castle of the Unseelie.
It stood black and sprawling. The stone was the same gleaming ebony that seemed to suck in the eerie twilight, so it glowed from within. Countless towers loomed tall and twisted, each turret piercing the skies far, far above us. Bridges connected them all and swayed in the breeze.
It was so vast I could see nothing of the land beyond it.
“The castle is built within a labyrinth,” Laphaniel said, looking like he was facing the gates of the underworld. “Stories say that even the servants get lost at times and are never seen again.”
We stopped in front of an enormous door with vines of curling silver, which trailed up over the archway to loop around the handles. “Perhaps they escaped?”
Laphaniel shook his head, giving a glance to the burning pyres. “No one escapes this place.”
How could I forget that the Unseelie butchered the Seelie king, tore him up, and sent him back in pieces to his queen?
As damned as the Seelie castle was, it held nothing of the unfettered cruelty practically screaming from the obsidian stone of the Unseelie.
“This way.”
I swirled around at the voice, the sound coming from all around us and from nowhere all at the same time. A doorman bowed to me as I turned back, standing where, just a moment before, there had been no one. Its grey hooded cloak pooled to the floor, dissolving into mist where it touched the flagstones.
“Follow me.”
It had no face that I could see. No mouth, no eyes, nothing. Only an empty void where its face should have been. It bowed again, sweeping an arm of shadow out to us. The door opened without a sound, revealing a long and dark hallway. The walls dripped in shadow, coiling down from the carved, vaulted ceiling to follow us as we walked.
The doorman waited ahead, the strange mist gathering around it while it floated a few inches above the black marble. There wasn’t a sound as the door closed behind us.
Fat candles burned away in sconces along the walls, licking over the burnished silver holdings to cast strange shadows. Black upon inky black, the walls moved with the eerie light, revealing shadows that looked like trees, like bears. Like monsters. They appeared out of the corner of my eye, turning to nothing but ebony stone when I looked directly at them.
Laphaniel held my wrist, keeping me close to him. I could feel his pulse race. My own heart hammered within my chest.
“Through here.”
The doorman didn’t materialise again, settling instead to linger as mist and whispers, sending chills down my spine as it traced ghostly hands over my shoulders. Laughter sighed over my neck; teeth grazed my skin.
Another set of doors opened, the wood carved to resemble a gaping maw, shards of silver dangled from above like fangs. Red stained the tips, ruddy and old. The hallway opened wider; the ceiling above domed with glass. Light pierced down onto the black marble floor and bounded off the mirrors lining the walls.
Antlers hung from corded ropes; candles balanced on each tip to drip wax upon the floor. A few still had the skulls attached, more candles glowing from the empty eye sockets. The flames did not show within the mirrors.
Our reflections, however, bounced back infinitely. I looked once, twice, noting that my reflection didn’t always look back at me. I looked again to see it grinning madly, but I wasn’t smiling.
One panel of glass held little glowing orbs that skipped between the mirrors like trapped fireflies.
“What are they?” I asked, but I had seen similar lights before.
There was a cold breath at my neck. “Souls.”
I flinched at the sound.
“Beautiful, are they not?”
Beside me, Laphaniel made a conscious effort not to look at the mirrors, keeping his gaze straight ahead. I took his hand as we reached the far end of the room.
Two knights flanked the doors at the end of the mirrored hallway. They stood utterly still, yet their cloaks billowed around them like black wings. They didn’t look at us, but their reflections never took their eyes off Laphaniel’s.
Twisted smiles opened to reveal pointed teeth. Clawed hands reached out to grab at Laphaniel’s mirror image and dragged him down. Snapping jaws tore at his throat, splattering blood across the glass.
The knights still didn’t acknowledge us when they pushed open the doors.
I dragged Laphaniel past them as he stood frozen, forcing him into the throne room where a sudden hush descended. All eyes snapped to us.
It was nothing like the lazy cruelty of Luthien’s court. A savageness overfilled the cavernous room, rumbles of snarls echoing from the stone walls. Eyes flashed in the shadows— creatures scuttled within the darkness, quick and un-clothed.
The Seelie Court, at least, held onto veiled civility, the cruelty hidden behind lovely smiles and tempting promises. There was a mask of elegance, a gilded wickedness. Everything shone and sparkled and gleamed and sang. Though underneath, it was all rotten.
The Unseelie Court did not obscure their nature, there was no pretence. It burned raw and feral and savage.
The massive room itself had been carved from black stone. Distorted statues stretched to the height of the domed ceiling way above us, clawed hands outstretched to hold the dark glass ceiling.
Two thrones sat at the far end, high upon a stone dais, shining so purely, that for a moment I mistook them for glass and not silver. Long, violent shards protruded from all around them, entwining with each other in a convoluted knot of twisted metal, forging them together for all time.
My sister sat upon the left, dressed in swirls of black mist that clung to her body like a second skin. Her blue eyes stayed on me, cold as always, while a knowing smile played at the corner of her too red lips. Her black hair fell loose over her shoulders, a circlet of twisted silver rested upon her head.
Niven leant to the side, listening while the man beside her whispered in her ear. Her smile bloomed, full and wicked. Mocking laughter echoed around the room as whatever joke they were sharing trickled through the court.
The Unseelie King turned to me; ordinary brown eyes roamed over my body. His crown was larger than Niven’s, the points jagged and sharp. With his bright red hair, it looked like the crown sat on top of a pool of blood. His lips lifted in a smirk. “I didn’t invite you here.”
I took a step forwards, keeping my chin high. “If we had waited any longer, we would be dead.”
The Unseelie King leant forwards, his gaze sharp. “And what concern is that of mine?”
I dared a glance at the surrounding fey, listening as wings rustled in the quiet and claws scraped along the marble. “If Luthien takes the throne, then she will send an army here to slaughter you. You are a new king, and you will not be able to save this Court with Luthien as queen.”
Every bloodthirsty face snapped to me. Around me, the shadows quivered and stretched out toward where we stood. I wondered if he could command them to tear us down.
“Is that so?” the Unseelie king drawled.
A rebellious smile threatened at my lips, but I held it back. “It’s what Niven has told me.”
The Unseelie King turned to my sister, and everybody in the room shrank back, waiting with a mix of fear and hunger. Niven turned her head, raising a gloved hand to lightly trace the King’s cheek. Her smile had not faltered.
“It’s true,” she purred, relaxing back against the silver. “In time, we will bring this world to its knees, but you are not yet a match for Luthien. If my sister dies, it will end in our ruin.”
The Unseelie King threaded his fingers through Niven’s, while shadows coiled around his feet like lazy cats. “I could spare you a few of my knights; I am sure they would delight in tearing your rival’s head from her body. I could ensure you sit upon the Seelie throne.”
“At what price?” I asked, unsure what he would ask for. Unsure what I would be willing to give up.
“You’re smarter than you look.”
I inclined my head slightly. “This is not my first time in Faerie.”
“Indeed.” The Unseelie King steepled his fingers, and the shadows surrounding him trickled back to their original resting places. The stone glimmered with the tentative things, quivering beneath the candlelight, desperate to wreak havoc. “I will think about what you owe me, I am sure we can come to an arrangement that suits both Courts.”
I hated not knowing the cost and wanted to push the matter further. A light touch at my arm from Laphaniel kept my silence.
“We have your aid, then?” Laphaniel asked, ignoring the sudden torrent of snarls and flash of teeth. The Unseelie King lifted a hand, and silence fell at once.
“They don’t like you, do they?” the Unseelie King smiled. “I don’t believe there has ever been a Seelie faerie within these walls that hasn’t been ripped to pieces. This is the dawning of a new time, of new allies to a greater threat. It is enough to stir the blood, is it not?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I will give the help you so desperately need.” Shadows trembled across the floor, snaking towards the two thrones. They coiled around the Unseelie King’s legs, and over his arms. They tangled in Niven’s hair, lifting the ebony strands away from her face. “But first, I wish to play a game.”
I dared a glance at Laphaniel. “What kind of game?”
The Unseelie King bared his teeth. “I promise it will be fun.”
“For whom?” Dread curdled in my stomach, leaden, and cold. “If we win at this game of yours, do we have your word you will help us?”
“In all its entirety.”
I took a step forward. “And if we lose?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” the Unseelie King replied, leaning back in his throne as cruel laughter seeped up from the surrounding fey. I caught Niven’s smirk, the shadows looping around her arm as she lifted a goblet in salute.
“What is this game of yours?” I asked, already knowing it would be awful and bloodthirsty.
“I will choose a knight, Miss Jenkins, to fight your own. Whoever is standing last will be declared the winner.”
A fight to the death. I could have begged for anything else, but it wouldn’t have made a scrap of difference, I knew that.
I knew that.
“I’ll fight.”
“No,” I breathed. “No, Laphaniel.”
The Unseelie King rose to his feet, calling more and more shadows to him. They settled over his shoulders, sweeping to the floor in a constantly roving cloak. Niven stood beside him, tangling her fingers in his. The glee on her face sliced at something deep inside I had thought long healed.
With a click of his fingers, the Unseelie King summoned a scrawny, crooked creature from the masses of eager fey. It stopped and bowed at the foot of the dais, thin wings buzzing behind it like a fly. It held a sword in its hands, a long blade of shining silver that it passed into the waiting hands of its king.
“Look how eager your lover is to fight for you,” the Unseelie King began. “How eager he is to die for you.” He shared a terrible smile with Niven. “Again.”
He sent the sword sailing through the air towards Laphaniel, who caught it with ease and swung it around in a slick and graceful arc. The blade sang, and I swore I saw Laphaniel’s eyes light up.
“You’re exhausted,” I hissed, barely breathing. “What if you lose?
He said nothing to me but gently touched my cheek before brushing past.
Laphaniel stopped in front of the two thrones, his back straight and head up, and he should have looked out of place there…filthy and dishevelled in ripped jeans and a black hoodie, but with the sword in his hand, he looked just like a knight.
My knight.
A spark of pride ignited my body, turning to horror as his opponent walked up and stood before him.
He was immaculate in his shining black armour, cropped hair woven through with raven feathers that matched the ones on his cloak, so it looked like he had wings. His face was a cruel mask with hungry eyes.
“To the death, then!” the Unseelie King called out, his voice bouncing off the mirrored walls, stirring the watching fey into a frenzy.
The screams of the Unseelie Court had barely begun before the Raven Knight lashed out, his movements almost too quick to see, sword slicing down to the exact spot Laphaniel stood a fragment of a second before.