Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  Castiel stepped between us.

  Weylan heaved a heavy sigh. “We’ve discussed this. We weren’t sure he was even alive, only hoped he was. Until then, our resistance pressed forward with fighting against Johan, eager to gain your and Anolyn’s support.” His pointed gaze rested on Castiel and his borrowed clothing. “This charade of yours is unnecessary, Prince. I should have announced your coming in the missive. You have nothing to fear. My liege will welcome his daughter with open arms, as will his followers.”

  Castiel hummed a noncommittal sound. “I will discover that for myself. You may pretend ignorance, if you wish.” He checked the straps to my saddle and tucked my boot into the stirrup. “Support will come to the new king when Toma proves to me he deserves it.”

  Weylan grumbled something unintelligible.

  “Whether the princess chooses to stay is up to her, General.” Castiel’s eyes met mine. “A storm is coming, but if we hurry, we can reach Hartsevain before nightfall.”

  I nodded, a lump lodging in my throat as I watched him go to claim his horse.

  Weylan moved to me. “Eira deserves a new beginning, Ilianna. She deserves to heal.”

  “So do I.” I kicked my horse forward to follow my prince. “And stay away from me.”

  Anger and frustration battled over control of my senses. Eira was not mine to support and I couldn’t make a promise I didn’t intend to keep. As soon as I could, I would return to my new home.

  But even as the thought came, unease quickly followed.

  How could I abandon my people?

  Johan had not only abused me, but he had abused his countrymen and his role as king. And paid dearly for it.

  Instead of being tried for his crimes, he would be returned to his brother to be buried in the catacombs of the king, or to be burned as a traitor by fire, his ashes discarded from the cliffs into the sea.

  Tensions were high as we pressed forward. Wind blew through the trees and conducted an eerie song upon their leaves, racking my body with yet another chill. Castiel ran the line of soldiers with Captain Mikael, searching for signs of attack from the Wraith Queen or any of Johan’s remaining supporters.

  Thunder rumbled in warning before the air burst into a torrential rainstorm. Water leaked through the patchy canopy of leaves and, despite our cloaks and leathers, drenched us through to the bone. Our muddied path slowed our march and irritated our horses, but finally beams of grayed light filtered from a clearing in the trees. A wave of tangible energy passed over the line of soldiers as we neared the end of the forest. Our speed increased. I pushed my horse, sprinting her to the open air.

  I breathed in Eira and all her glory and lifted my face to the sky, the hood of my cloak falling back. Heavy rain pelted my face; the cold water washed the grime from my cheeks and neck.

  The harsher climate of our land was the original king of Eira’s reason for settling there so long ago. The natural elements would slow down invaders, and it was impossible for anyone to enter the kingdom from the north. The oceans to the east and west and the Varian Forest were easy enough to watch for enemies. Hartsevain Castle stood tall above the hills and trees, regal upon its mountainous ledge. Six stories high, it was built to intimidate newcomers and to shield the people of Eira—at least that was what it used to be.

  “I’ll protect you from Toma and even the Wraith Queen,” Siana said, bringing me back to the present. Her voice was thick with derision. “But I can do nothing against a cold. Cover your head, you little fool.”

  “There,” I said, flipping the hood back in place. “Do you feel better? On or off, we’re still drenched.”

  We pressed forward over large rocks, smoothed by centuries of the unforgiving elements. Scanning the familiar landscape of yellowed grass bent low to the abuse of the sky, I grew hopeful of witnessing the bright green sprigs of growth among the dead, promising a hopeful future. I guided our procession around the towns that separated us from our destination to avoid any additional problems our presence might cause. Eirians were suspicious of strangers.

  Even still, the news of our presence would spread like wildfire, and an armed detail would march to meet us.

  Within the hour, a line of soldiers appeared on the horizon. Our men halted their progress and formed into ranks of twenty. Siana tightened her cloak around her face and ducked back behind the first row. General Weylan, Captain Mikael, Lucan-Cyris, Castiel, and I led our horses to meet the small Eirian convoy.

  Castiel took a position to my right. His guard was up, and no warmth emanated from him. He was as stone cold as the first moment I met him, and I shivered against the memory. How long ago that felt now.

  We left the protection of our company.

  Five from the other side met us, all cloaked and armed.

  The middle-most man came forward. His face was thin; his long gray beard revealed an older man, pressing into his seventies. His voice carried the distance between us. “Why do you bring an army to our walls?”

  “General Losso.” I smiled. “I’m shocked to see you. You retired over ten years ago.”

  Weylan cleared his throat. “As you can see, General, we come to escort Princess Ilianna safely home.”

  Losso’s eyes did a quick inspection of me and our remaining company. “And you, General Weylan, could not do that yourself?”

  “We thought it best after Johan’s attack on Anolyn.”

  Losso’s gaze grew wide.

  “An attack that was quickly followed by an appearance from the Wraith Queen herself,” Weylan finished.

  The others of Losso’s group murmured behind him. One brow ticked high on the old man’s face. “The Wraith Queen?”

  Weylan nodded. “She has returned and promises quick retribution.”

  Losso’s chin tipped higher. “I see. And where is Johan?”

  “He’s dead,” I said, my voice harsher than I intended.

  Weylan cast me a sharp look, then addressed his audience. “His casket lies in that carriage.”

  “King Toma will not be happy to hear that.” Again, Losso scanned the line of soldiers, falling to me. “Princess Ilianna, I’m grateful for your safe return. Your father awaits you. Come with me, if you please. Your men are no longer needed.”

  “Sir.” Mikael spoke loudly to capture his attention. “I am Captain Mikael of the king’s army. In the missive to King Riaan, King Toma expressed the desire of our continued peace and allowed for our kingdom to send representatives with the return of Johan Drakara to voice our abuse of Johan’s rule.”

  A smirk began in the corner of Losso’s lips. “And since the man is dead, don’t you think that a little unnecessary?”

  “Perhaps, but my king wishes to pass on a message to the new king of Eira.”

  “Very well. You may bring a dozen of your men, but the rest must camp here to wait your return.”

  Mikael nodded. “Thank you, General.”

  Castiel signaled for Mikael to select additional men to follow our collection of players and to give instructions to those we left behind. Siana retook her position at my side, and together, we were quickly escorted to Hartsevain Castle through the middle of the city of Kurreg. The rain stopped long enough for the sun to shine through a break in the clouds. I cast down the hood of my cloak to enjoy what I could of it. Citizens watched us from their cottages and shops, some brave enough to come out and inspect us closer. I nodded to those who did and kept pace with the others. Almost at the gates, a woman ran from her home in a mad dash to our line.

  “Halt, madam,” Losso cried, and the woman did as she was commanded.

  Mikael had partly drawn his sword before Castiel stopped him with a hand to his wrist.

  Mud coated the woman’s shoes and her blonde hair fell from the tie that bound it. She drew a flower from inside her cloak and lifted it to me. I recovered from my shock enough to take it. She ran back inside before I could thank her.

  “See,” Weylan said, moving to my side. “Your people have missed you.”


  Ignoring the guilt that rose in my throat, I thrust the flower to my assassin-maid… but she was no longer there. Cyris received it instead. He leaned to tuck the bloom into my belt, discretely scanning the streets for any sign of her, but there was none.

  If I knew Siana at all, I would be seeing her soon enough.

  The roads steepened and our horses climbed higher. Hartsevain loomed before us, its stone fortifications bright against a sodden, gray backdrop of the Kurreg Mountains. Carved sentinels—statues of the great kings of old, and generals fallen in battle—eyed our coming from their great walls. Black moss crawled the towers, turrets, and lookouts. A heavy bell tolled the hour.

  And my insides turned to mush. Voices screamed from within my brain. Warnings shouted from my memories. The blood leached from my face, and my hands and feet tingled.

  “Breathe, Ilianna,” Castiel said, pulling up beside me. But I wasn’t sure I could. It was so familiar and foreign, all at the same time.

  We came to the main gate as the rain returned in sheets. As if in recognition, a metallic groan sounded, and the doors opened to us. Beneath the cover of the first wall, the others removed their hoods, their eyes scanning their surroundings. I coughed against the familiar smell of mud and dank mildew. We were commanded to dismount and give up our weapons.

  After several attendants disappeared toward the stables with our horses, Losso clapped his hands for our attention. “The king will first desire a private audience with his daughter. Everyone else must wait for their return.”

  “Perhaps somewhere we can get warm?” Weylan asked.

  Losso’s brows lifted high. “Of course, you may, General Weylan—”

  “But—”

  “—After meeting with your king,” Losso finished.

  Weylan flinched to his cold reception.

  A warning triggered inside my brain and I gripped Castiel’s fingers. “Something’s not right.” I said to him.

  “Nonsense, Princess Ilianna,” Losso soothed. “Come with me.”

  My muscles stiffened. “I will not meet my father without an attendant.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Very well. You may take one with you.”

  There was no question who. Castiel kept close. Almost in a daydreamer’s haze, we walked with Toma’s men toward the open courtyard, its expanse big enough to hold hundreds of its citizens. It spread beneath the balcony that led from the king’s private suites.

  Rain pelted my head and face and leaked down my back, but I barely felt the cold. I swallowed against my throat-closing anxiety. The Demon Daughter sensed my unease and perked up, listening for the cause of my reaction.

  I pressed her down the best I could.

  Four guards lined beneath the grand balcony—again, none that I recognized—but upon our arrival, they moved for us to take the center-most stance. They joined the others as Losso and his guards surrounded us. I eyed Castiel nervously.

  Losso cleared his throat. “Great King Toma, may I present Princess Ilianna Drakara.”

  A head appeared from the ledge, three stories up. Only his eyes were visible as he cast his gaze upon his small audience. Then more of him appeared and my heart seized.

  Dark, curly locks framed a pale face. Black eyes set beneath thick, bushy brows, and a full beard reminded me more of the bears that dwelled upon our northern ranges. My heart dropped. King Toma was a younger, thinner version of Johan. He leaned over the balustrade, his head angled to the side.

  Toma scanned the line of men and our circling guard before landing upon me. His dispassionate gaze scrutinized me from my boots and sodden leathers, to my hair braided long down my back. Something dark flashed within his eyes.

  “I don’t know this girl.” He straightened and with a wave of his hand, he turned to leave. Before he disappeared, his voice called over his shoulder. “Kill her.”

  I sputtered, shocked. “Wh-what?”

  My prince was in front of me in a heartbeat. The sound of steel cut through the air as all around us, weapons were drawn. I pressed my back to Castiel’s.

  “King Toma!” Castiel yelled. His words vibrated me to my core. Thunder rumbled. “I am Castiel Anouk of Anolyn. I demand you retract your men.” But there was no response from the balcony.

  Losso laughed, gaining our attention. “Is Anolyn so poor that they cannot properly clothe the son of kings?” He smirked and crouched low. “If that’s really who you are, step aside, Prince, or die with the impostor.”

  I growled at the threat. “I am no impostor, and neither is the prince. But if the king will not claim me as his, I will happily leave.”

  Castiel raised his hands. “We are on the brink of war with the Wraith Queen. We should not be shedding each other’s blood.”

  Losso grinned, rain dripping from his lashes. “Then don’t. Step aside, Prince, or die.”

  “I don’t think so.” Castiel’s magic vibrated through the air as he gathered power to him. With a convincing jolt, a wave of energy flashed outward, sending the circle of Eirians stumbling back. “This is your last warning!”

  Smile gone, Losso glared. “No, this is yours.”

  Anger choked the breath from my lungs. The Demon Daughter laughed inside my head, writhing to break free. Elyn, she reminded me. Her name was Elyn.

  I tried to control her, tried to focus on my magic instead, but her flames already combined with mine, enveloping me in her fire. Red coated my vision.

  “Ilianna.” Castiel’s voice broke through my trance, but it was too much. All of it.

  To run away from the abuse of an uncle, only for an unknown father to deny me? I screamed through the rejection, my blood boiling. Toma’s guards stepped back, fear reflecting within their eyes.

  Another scream rent the air, causing my heart to beat painfully against my chest. Ketrina landed before me with a thud that shook the earth and rattled my teeth.

  The Demon Daughter fell to the ground, receding with a jolt.

  The falcry spun, her black wings outstretched, felling any soldier close to her. Toma’s soldiers cried out in fear, bolting away from the mystical creature who screamed again, puffing her armored feathers. Her razor-sharp talons broke the cobblestone floor beneath her, scraping through to earth. Castiel raced in front of her, his arms outstretched to halt any additional attack.

  Fear coated my heart. From my periphery, two more soldiers entered the scene, bows at the ready.

  Castiel and Ketrina would die protecting me.

  The archers took aim.

  With a scream, I thrust my hands to the ground. Power erupted from my touch, raking like a plow, heaping the earth as it raced to its targets. An explosion of cobblestone and dirt blew back the archers.

  Sheets of rain muffled the surrounding cries of confusion. I peered up to see Weylan and Mikael standing over me, their back to me as protective shields, swords drawn. Ketrina screamed and snapped her beak. Then for a moment, all was silent.

  “Enough!” A slow clap reverberated from the shadows of the courtyard. Toma emerged. A black cloak and hood enclosed him, but as he came closer, his features became more distinguishable. A scar traveled the right side of his face from his hairline to his jaw. Black bruised the skin beneath his eyes and deep shadows lined his gaunt cheeks.

  “I demand to know the meaning of this,” Weylan shouted above the rain.

  King Toma stilled. “I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.” Then he smiled, his black eyes finding mine. “Welcome home, my daughter.”

  Slowly I stood, my fingers twitching. I smiled back, baring my teeth. “You, too.”

  You bastard.

  THE END

  Sneak Peek

  Here’s a sneak peek at

  the sequel to Of Blood and Deceit

  Cursed by Blood

  For updates on its progress follow Rachel at

  www.rachelcollett.com

  Chapter 1

  A New Hell

  Cold as a wraith’s hell, Eira seeped into my skin and trailed up my
arms on spikes. My muscles ached from fatigue, and my eyes burned from lack of sleep, but I ignored the pain as I hustled through the frigid castle hallways. The guards posed outside my door—children, really—looked straight ahead, their expressions impassive.

  “At ease, gentlemen,” I said, in my usual mock tone, but they didn’t respond.

  The blond—I never asked their names—produced a keychain from his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it. He didn’t bother to search my room for intruders, and why would he? No one here wanted me dead, unless you counted my father.

  I pressed the door shut, leaning my forehead against its chilled wood and closed my eyes.

  Icy fingers clapped down on my mouth, muffling my cry. Something sharp pierced through the thicker material of my gray dress and pricked the skin at my side.

  “If I were an assassin, you’d be dead, Princess.” The intruder’s warm breath assaulted my cheek. “Oh, wait. I am.”

  I jerked to the side and rammed my elbow back, but Siana coolly skirted away from my assault. Her hips swayed beneath a resplendent gown too beautiful for a lady’s maid. She was too beautiful to be a lady’s maid, yet the farce had been successful.

  “Did I trigger your friend?” Siana asked, offhandedly. Her knife clattered unceremoniously to the stone floor.

  I rotated my neck to ease the sudden tension in my shoulders. Elyn. The Demon Daughter, my ever-constant, internal companion, had a name. Why had I been so foolish as to tell the assassin?

  I ignored Siana’s question with one of my own. “Borrowed another one of my dresses, did you?”

  “It’s not like you’re using them,” she said, sprawling on my gigantic bed among the heavy blankets of lilac and ivory. Her hair draped over the edge, her slender fingers combing her long, black tresses.

  I moved to my windows that towered to the ceiling and placed my palm against the cold glass. A door led out to a private balcony—a door that had always before been barred, but not any longer. I unbolted the lock and threw it wide. Eira’s early spring wafted past me on a cold breeze and into my stuffy room.