Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  I smiled sweetly. “You shock me, Your Highness.”

  “Was it done by my guards?”

  I opened my mouth, but a memory of Scores pinned against a wall by an unseen force caused my throat to swell in anxiety. Despite his sudden concern, I needed to remember and never forget: Castiel was a magician capable of horrors I could only imagine.

  I shrugged and stared at the fire. “A warrior cannot flee battle without a few scars. Have no fear, Your Highness. Your guards have been more than gracious.”

  I lifted the lid to the soup, pretending nonchalance, then almost slammed it shut when my stomach groaned in an impatient declaration. I set the tray on the table next to me, then wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my robe.

  From behind me, a ruffle of blankets drew my attention. I smiled again when Mikael patted down the unused mattress to search for hidden weapons. “Will your guard be turning down my bed?”

  Mikael froze in place. His tattoos danced in the fire’s light and added to his rather frightening glare. A clawed hand gripped a pillow as if he wanted to tear it in half—

  Castiel actually laughed, a soft chuckle that vibrated in the back of my ears. Hands behind him, he paced the length of the room. “Until your removal, your room will be inspected several times a day, so get used to it.”

  “That sounds more like you. Let’s not pretend to be friendly. That would upset my first impression of you.”

  The prince stilled.

  I silently cursed myself. When would I ever learn to shut my mouth as I had been taught?

  He waited until his guard had finished with the search. Sameen was hesitant when asked to go with Mikael but did as she was told. I begged her with my eyes not to leave me alone with the magician, but the door shut behind her with a resolute click.

  “You don’t know anything about me, Princess.” Castiel’s voice was a ghostly whisper that sent tremors throughout my body. “You want kind, do you? I’ve known who you are from the moment you entered my kingdom. I’ve watched you. Waited.”

  He prowled forward to grasp the handles of my chair. His skin grazed mine. I gasped and jerked from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. Had I expected a magician’s touch to be different from a human’s? I cursed my stupidity. Of course they wouldn’t feel different. I refrained from shrinking back further despite the flurry of butterflies that sickened the inside of my stomach.

  He leaned forward, his face so near that I inhaled the scent of the soap he used to bathe.

  It was an impressive show of intimidation—but I’d seen so much worse to be truly scared.

  “Do you really think we treat our prisoners so well?” he asked. “Do you think you were properly searched upon arrival? Interrogated?”

  My face exploded into uncomfortable blotches of red. My nails itched to scratch out the eyes that delved too deeply in mine, but before I could react he pushed away with added oomph. My chair tipped rearward, but I jerked forward and it slammed back down with a clatter.

  Castiel reclaimed his place near the fire.

  Hands shaking, I wrapped my robe even tighter around me and forced myself to remain calm. Even then, I heard the nervous lilt to my next words. “If that’s true, then—”

  “If that’s true?” His head snapped my direction, pinning me in place. His eyes saw everything. “Did you never once think it odd at the amount of times you were fed? That you did not waste away to nothing?”

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I couldn’t move, could barely breathe.

  He continued, regardless. “I’ve personally seen to the care of your cell—much to the annoyance of my brother—making sure the least amount of disease crawled through those bars to infect you. You think no one watched you every time you took your weekly walks? Never in the history of warfare has another prisoner been treated as special as you have been, Princess.”

  “Why?”

  “Why punish you for your uncle’s mistake? I am more than willing to continue to treat you as a guest and an honorable member of royalty… if you earn it.”

  A form of hope snaked through me, slow and deadly. “What do I have to do?”

  “Tell me what your uncle’s plan is. Why this sudden desire for peace? Why send his niece as a marriage offering? And after refusal, why send you to spy?”

  A muscled in my neck spasmed. “I was refused?”

  One brow raised high. “Does that upset you?”

  Embarrassment singed my cheeks. I tsked despite my flurried breath. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t take it too hard. The king isn’t easily charmed by a pretty face.”

  “I couldn’t care less what charms him.”

  But Castiel ignored my indignant response and fixed his stare to the flames within the hearth.

  “If friendly is what you seek,” he began, his voice a forced calm, “I suggest you be more open with your actions. I’ll ask you one more time. Why are you here?”

  I swallowed hard. “And I’ll give you the same answer I gave before, because it’s true. I have no desire to be here. I only wanted to pass through.”

  “Very well.” He spun on his heel and quit the room without another word.

  I closed my eyes, hating the way my heart settled against my stomach. I heard the door open and shut but didn’t look to the source, knowing who entered. I could almost feel her. “You lied to me.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Sameen’s voice was strong, and nearer than I thought. “I said I wouldn’t tell him what I recognize those marks to be, and I didn’t. You must be the one to tell him what they truly are.”

  I set my jaw. And that would never happen.

  I opened my eyes to glare, but her sympathetic expression instantly took the pleasure from the act.

  She stood over me with my discarded tray, almost too close for comfort. “Shall I feed you?”

  I pished my annoyance. Again, my stomach growled, unaware of anything other than its own discomfort. She placed the tray in my lap and removed the lid to the stew. I sighed and took a bite of potato and steak, barely managing to hold back the groan that bubbled to my lips. Every mouthful was more heavenly than the first. Tears clouded my vision and as I ate, Sameen worked my damp hair into a braid.

  By the time she finished, I had scooped my last blissful bite of stew. She watched me closely. Was it pity she felt for me to summon the healer, to bring me the stew, and that now emanated from those soft brown eyes? Her soul radiated goodness—she was nothing like Pala.

  An easy target. The thought danced wickedly across my thoughts. My face flushed red from the shame, but my mind opened.

  I lowered my voice, casting my eyes to the floor. “Thank you. For your kindness.”

  Her movements slowed as she pulled down the comforter for me. She didn’t look me in the eyes when she answered. “I don’t need your thanks, but is there anything else I can get you before retiring?”

  My spoon scraped against the bottom of the bowl and I stared at it for a moment before meeting Sameen’s bemused gaze.

  “Can I—can I have a little honey-butter for the bread? It’s been so long since I’ve had anything so good.” When she neared, I reached for the hem of her sleeve, gently tugging on it. Please?

  She blinked. “Of course, dear. I don’t know why they didn’t bring it in the first place.” She spun on her heel, heading toward the door.

  “Can you bring a knife to spread it?” I asked in an even softer voice.

  She paused, her hand on the grip of the door. She gazed over her shoulder, then smiled at me. “Well, of course I will. How else would you spread honey-butter?”

  Runaway

  No matter how hard I tried to suppress it, guilt worked at my gut, twisting a full stomach into painful knots. I tucked the thick butter knife into one pocket of my dress and the small loaf of bread into the other. Sameen had provided me with a nightgown still folded and untouched on a nightstand, as well as a simple gray frock for the next day, no doubt from one of the maids closest to
my size. The slippers she gave were too thin to fit properly, but they were better than nothing and would stretch.

  She would be punished for aiding my escape, but I didn’t have time for guilt. My uncle would soon be on his way.

  There were no rules when it came to survival.

  But why did I deserve to survive?

  I gripped the nightstand when a wave of grief nearly swept my feet from beneath me. My fingers pressed against the wood as I heaved shuddering breaths of too-thick air. My arms and legs shook with emotion I thought to have been destroyed long before. Tears stung my eyes and I groaned, trying to force them away, but still they came. I swallowed against the pain and dropped to my knees.

  I tipped my head back to stop the flow of emotion.

  Did I deserve to survive? I didn’t know, but if there was any type of justice in the world, there were others that needed to die for their deeds before Death claimed me as his. Confusion, fear, and determination warred, but when I had cried every last tear, determination rose triumphant.

  My uncle had not won yet.

  I dragged the blankets off the bed to the floor and cocooned within their warmth, waiting until the main candlelights were extinguished along my corridor. I counted down the hours.

  I had left my kingdom, my home, using methods I said I would never use. It was the only way that had finally worked. Every other attempt had failed. I had discovered the ability after I turned fourteen—way past the age it should have manifested.

  If gifted, magic bloomed in a child as early as six years old, but never past puberty.

  And I was supposed to be gifted. Up until my first day of womanhood, my uncle’s behavior changed from patient persistence to manic single-mindedness.

  “Your father was a gifted magician. It’s your duty to defend your country like he once did. Magic flows through the Anouk family veins. It must be within you.”

  “Then why don’t you possess it?”

  The question was an innocent enough mistake, but one I made sure never to repeat. When my magic finally surfaced, I did my best to tuck it away. I hated it just as much as it must have hated me to let me suffer as it did. Why else would it have stayed away so long?

  I shook my head to rid my thoughts of such memories. Like it or not, I had no other choice but to use the cursed ability. Still, doing so on Sameen grated. I had used the same trick on Anolyn’s prison guards, coaxing more food and water when I could without drawing attention or suspicion. Now, I reached out, utilizing a different but comparable magic, sensing the new guard beyond my door. The connection at first was weak. It was easier when I knew the target, understood the way they ticked.

  The new guard’s thoughts were simple enough. He loathed the upcoming hours of tedium, guarding a stranger of insignificant value to his career.

  Perfect.

  I moved to the door and placed my hand to the wooden planks. Holding my breath, I gathered my strength.

  Would you help me?

  A moment later, the door creaked open an inch and I met the eyes that glared through furrowed, bushy brows. Black skin blended against the darkened hallway.

  “I—” I stuttered when the guard pushed it open even more with one gigantic hand, exposing a brute of a man double my size in girth and pure muscle. Candlelight gleamed from a shorn skull. A ragged scar ate through the line of his jaw. His head jerked back upon seeing me. His unreadable gaze swept the length of my gown.

  “Did you say something?” Suspicion penetrated his graveled voice.

  I bowed my head in mildness, possibly even terror, my heart working wildly. “Forgive me, sir. I cannot sleep. I am so far from my own home and I’m very uneasy.”

  Might I stretch my legs?

  He blinked once. “You want to go for a walk?”

  “Yes, please.” But it was more of a question.

  He stepped back, giving me space to exit. “Then allow me to escort you.”

  I swallowed, glancing beyond the door.

  “What is your name?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

  “Reese.”

  He wore the forest-green tunic of an Anolyn foot soldier. “It’s so dark, Reese.” Will I be safe?

  One side of his lips quirked up as he regarded me. He offered an arm. “With me? There is nowhere safer.”

  And for some odd reason, I believed him. I do not wish to be seen.

  He nodded his understanding and I gently took his arm. Muscle budged beneath my slight fingers and I gulped down a growing swell of anxiety.

  He guided me the opposite direction I had originally come, turning down several unlit passage ways. My heart thudded in my chest, my nerves on high-alert. I pulled my knife, fisting it behind my back in case the guard had other plans, but after another minute, a light grew stronger. He brought me to a narrow spiral staircase. He unwrapped my grip, only to transfer it to his hand. He kept me close, down two flights of mind-whirling stairs, tucked behind his larger form. Hushed voices traveled toward us from the first floor and I pulled back, nearly tumbling down on top of him when he whirled. I gripped his shoulder to keep from falling.

  I could barely see his eyes or reaction in the cold, hollowed stairwell, but knew he was watching me.

  I’m scared.

  He let go. “Stay here.”

  He exited, and I stayed pressed against the wall of the well. I shouldn’t have been cowering like some common thief. I was a warrior. The Demon Daughter of Eira.

  Stupid, stupid title.

  But I was also weak from three months of incarceration, and quite lost. My heart beat erratically, grinding in my ears.

  A man called out in greeting and Reese answered. “You’re needed at the armory. I’ll cover for you until you get back.”

  A door opened, then closed. Footsteps brought him back to me. “We don’t have much time,” he said dragging me from the stairwell. “This way.”

  The guard guided me through a door camouflaged to match its surrounding walls. Twisting and turning we traversed down another flight of stairs. The claustrophobic air in these lower passages robbed me of breath and my head grew light, but then he threw a door wide, and cool air brushed against my face. I instantly inhaled several deep breaths, sighing in relief, but still the guard pulled me into the deep shadows of a nearby building that matched the make of the castle. The smell of flora filled my senses. A hot house, intoxicating and sweet. I could almost be happy.

  Farther. I need to stretch my legs.

  Following along a towering wall, we moved quickly. A low-hanging fog shrouded us. Although I couldn’t make out how far it ran, a river flowed, passing directly along the back side of the castle walls. The smell of mud and moss and mildew thickened inside my lungs. The river could take me to the ocean, but not yet. We kept going. A pathway disappeared into a deep row of trees.

  Reese stopped a short distance from that path.

  Where does that lead? I asked pointing.

  “Into the main city.”

  And the coast?

  “The coast is ten miles more, past the village, and through Forest Hollow.”

  “Thank you,” I said. And I meant it.

  “You cannot go now. It’s far too late. You’ll be killed in that forest.” He held my hand tight, refusing to let go. I pressed out with my thoughts.

  I would never dream of it. I am just so curious.

  “You need to be back inside your room when the other guards return,” he said, his black eyes wary. “You are safe in Meyrion.”

  I nodded. “I understand.” Go back to your post. I will be there shortly.

  He hesitated. “You will not be scared?”

  “I know my way back. I am not afraid.” It was a lie. I was terrified, but I had to get out of here. Thank you for everything. Now go, kind sir.

  His lips grazed the back of my knuckles. Moisture stung my eyes as I fought off some unknown emotion. Keeping calm, I pried my fingers from his warm grasp.

  I pushed harder. Go.

&nb
sp; And with that, my guard was gone.

  Keeping to the shadows, I raced across the obscured grounds, and sprinted into the foliage that separated the city from Castle Meyrion. My foot hooked upon something sharp and I tripped, barely catching myself on a nearby tree trunk. I swore beneath my breath when the piercing bark scratched into my skin. I wiped the dirt and scrap of blood on my dress. Weakness and fatigue already affected my steps and made me sloppy, but I couldn’t slow down.

  I cleared the trees and skidded to a stop. Moonlight crept out from behind clouds to cast the town in eerie stillness. A mixture of elation, fear, and hunger clouded my senses. I tore the extra loaf of bread I had tricked from Sameen in half and ate to recover my strength, my mind working overtime to get my bearings. Shops littered the streets, their signs too hard to read. Night pressed against me. The cold air chilled my skin, but I barely noticed the discomfort.

  In the distance, a man rounded a corner, his silhouette obscured by the fog. A city patrolman? Hands in pockets, he whistled a low tune, his pace slow and relaxed.

  I spun and cut between two shops to the back alleys.

  I continued through backstreets rank with the smell of sewage and rotten food. At the end of the row, a dim light caught my attention. I picked my way closer. A man exited through a back door, throwing a pail of an unknown substance. He wiped his hands on a towel, then tossed it over his shoulder and went back inside. The smell of urine and ale assaulted me. I covered my nose as I made my way toward the front of the building.

  Candlelight illuminated the only waking business in the town of Anolyn. I peered through the windows of a tavern. Half a dozen patrons sat inside. It must be high-tide, the main reason a business would be open at such a weary hour: seamen had come in from port to rest from their ocean travels.

  The magic within me already searched the room for what I needed—another victim. Two men at the back played a game of cards. One had tanned, hulking muscles and a large beard; the other was smaller, younger, with reddish-brown hair and a cunning glint in his eyes.

  Perfect. At least I hoped.