by Skye Horn
“Father, you can’t be serious!”
Even Thea was surprised by how easily the king offered to exchange his daughter’s life, especially the only daughter who cared about him, to achieve his aim.
“It’s for the greater good, Amara. I cannot bring Morrigan back without your sister’s blood, which is why I had you kill the boy to begin with.”
Thea couldn’t believe her ears. Her father, their father, had set Amara up like a lamb to the slaughter. By the look on her sister’s face, Amara was just as stunned. Her hands shook behind her and tears swelled in her eyes. For the first time, Thea saw that she had crystal-blue eyes beyond that red rim of darkness. The blue glistened when she cried.
“Don’t waste your tears. Faerie will honor your sacrifice. You’ll be a legend!”
Faerie, Thea thought. Not him… he didn’t care if she died.
Thea’s fingers tightened into fists as she thought of what the king was proposing. He wanted Thea to kill Amara just to bring Marcus back. She wondered if her decision would have been different on the day Amara murdered Marcus, but she didn’t even contemplate the choice now. Thea’s eyes settled on Amara, who suddenly was the spitting image of her mother, and asked herself how she’d even missed it before. Iris trusted Thea to protect her daughter, and Thea planned to keep her promise.
“I won’t do it,” she said calmly, her gaze finding her sister’s. For a moment, Amara looked panicked, but her panic faded as they looked at each other. “I forgive you, Amara.”
The words were like a foreign language on her tongue, because in all honesty, how could she forgive someone who had murdered her first love? She didn’t know how to explain the logic behind it, but she knew it was the right thing to do.
Tears spilled down Amara’s cheeks, and Thea felt like her eyes were growing wet as well. She wanted to reach for her sister and tell her that things would be okay, that she would protect her, but it was unlikely with her arms bound and energy depleted. Amara’s lips opened to say something, but the king let out an angry scream, throwing the chair he’d been gripping across the floor. Everyone in the room, including Thea and Amara, winced at the sudden movement. Morrigan soared back toward the ceiling, no longer safe on the king’s arm.
“Stupid children,” the king growled, striding toward them. Amara looked terrified, but Thea held herself upright and dared not look away from him.
“Thea, he has Kieran,” Amara whispered just loud enough for Thea to hear before the king got close enough. The guards surely heard, but they didn’t dare get in the middle of the royal mess Thea had started. Thea turned to look at her sister in surprise, the words hardly registering. She saw her father’s angry body coming toward them both, shadows flailing out around him. He was out of control. Perhaps he’d kill her now and they would never have to worry about Morrigan’s release.
“How?” Thea asked Amara.
“Morrigan is the one who gave your seer the vision. It was her idea to give Kieran the potion in the first place—so that Father could use him as leverage. He has spies everywhere, Thea. T-that’s why I took you to the village… to stall you so that they could bring Kieran in. I’m so—”
“Silence!”
Thea’s heart was racing. King Malachi had reached them and his hand now gripped Amara’s throat. The guard who had been holding her released her immediately, stepping backwards, and the king lifted his daughter into the air. Her feet flailed as she gasped for breath, the shadows engulfing her.
“Let her go!” Thea screamed, and the king turned his gaze on her, dropping Amara to the ground, where she did not move.
“I tried to give you what you wanted. I tried to save your human toy. You are as ungrateful as your mother ever was.”
“My mother was the queen, as will I be. You are an imposter in a land that doesn’t belong to you. You curse it with darkness, and you’re dooming it to the hands of death herself!” Thea spit at him, her fingers twitching behind her back. Seeing Amara’s limp form on the ground made her angry, but not nearly as angry as the fact that the king had Kieran.
The king’s smile returned, although with a new sense of wickedness to it. He strode to stand in front of her, his breath smelling like spoiled wine. He nodded for his guard to let go of Thea, seeing the exhaustion on her face.
“Guards, bring me the unconscious fool. My daughter is ready to lose another man in her life. Soon, all she will have left is her dear old father.” He laughed, and a few of the guards left the room. Thea’s heart pounded against her chest. She needed a weapon. She needed something, because her magic could not get her through this fight alone.
If ever I needed you, it would be now, Thea prayed, wishing desperately for a response from Ainé, but none came. Thea counted the guards in the room. There were six Faeries, three of which had wings, and all of which had swords. Two armed centaurs stood outside the double doors; Thea had seen them before being pulled away from her freedom. Most importantly, though, she noted at least a dozen humans who came from the kitchens throughout her time in the dining hall. She realized they bore no weapons, but she thought of Elizabeth’s words to her earlier, hoping they would stand by her side if the moment came. Thea knew she couldn’t count on everyone to fight with her, but she couldn’t give up hope that they had a chance to survive this. She glanced at Amara’s unconscious body for only a moment, because the sound of the doors opening again behind her made her entire body stiffen.
The sweet scent of nature and sweat tickled her nose familiarly as the wind brushed against her skin. Without even seeing him, Thea knew without a doubt that Amara had not been lying. She controlled her reaction to his presence, but as the guards dragged his limp body to the king and tossed him on the floor in front of Thea, her eyes gave her away. His dark hair stuck up in strange places, like it did sometimes when he returned from the skies. His wings, which were bent uncomfortably around him, seemed lifeless. His face was at peace, though, more so than Thea had ever seen it. She wanted to go to him, to pull him into her lap and tell him how stupid and sorry she was, but she didn’t have time. The king drew his sword and pressed the tip to the left side of Kieran’s chest.
“No!” Thea’s scream echoed through the dining hall. Her eyes widened as she looked at Kieran’s helpless body at the end of her father’s weapon. She lunged but the guard at her side’s steel grip around her arm stopped her.
“Give me your blood, and he lives.” The king smiled, pressing his sword down against Kieran’s chest until the fabric of his shirt tore and a slight trickle of red liquid dripped to the floor. Kieran did not move, even at the touch of the sword. Thea, on the other hand, cried out, her entire body trembling as she fought against the guard whose hold she could not break.
“Let him go or I will kill you!” Thea said, her voice low and dangerous. Ainé, please, she basically screamed in her head. Tears stung at the back of her eyes but didn’t fall, and despite the exhaustion she felt, darkness was threatening to claw its way out of her. The image of Kieran lying lifeless in front of her the way Marcus had flashed through her mind, and as the king pressed the sword deeper into Kieran’s flesh, she flinched. She begged and begged Ainé for help, but if the Goddess would not show herself now, she had no choice left.
“Give me your blood, or you both die tonight.” The king’s voice was calm, and the raven that was the Goddess of Death herself landed on Kieran’s abdomen with taunting eyes, pecking at his clothing, uncaring of whether she was shredding his flesh along with it. More blood spilled.
“I’ll do it,” Thea blurted out, still fighting against the Faerie guard. The king retracted his sword, just slightly, with a look that made Thea want to fall to her knees and bawl. She couldn’t lose Kieran the way she’d lost Marcus, no matter what the cost was. She thought of Iris and Ethel, wondering what they would have done in this situation. They would have known Kieran would rather die than be the reason Morrigan returned, but Thea couldn’t let him go. She curled her fingers into fists as the king mo
tioned to a human to bring him a golden goblet from a serving table across the room. Thea watched as the human child, no older than Ethel, walked toward them with shaking hands. He looked at Thea with eyes that asked what her plan was, eyes that trusted her to do the right thing. Shame settled over her.
Whatever happens, we will stop Morrigan—together. Thea knew Kieran couldn’t hear her, but the reassurance was just as much for herself as the boy handed the goblet to her father and hurried out of the room. Thea felt all eyes on her the guard released his grip and handed her a dagger—the weapon she had been hoping for—but the sword still threatened her mate’s life. I will always choose you, no matter the cost, no matter the consequence. I am yours, and you are mine, forever.
The words rang through her head as the blade slid painfully across the soft part of her palm. Blood dripped into the goblet, slowly at first, and then more quickly. King Malachi watched with an anxious gaze, Morrigan resting perfectly still on his shoulder, and as soon as enough blood was in the cup, he snatched it from her, pushing her down to the floor beside Kieran.
Thea crawled to him, ignoring the betrayed gazes from the kitchen doorway, and felt the tears streaking her face. The king whispered something to his guards, and Thea pressed her bloody hand into Kieran’s.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, pressing her lips to Kieran’s cheek as her head fell against his chest in a sob.
She had failed everyone. When she looked back toward the king, the weight of that failure felt unbearable. He was whispering something into the goblet using a language Thea didn’t understand. It sounded Gaelic, but not quite like anything she’d ever heard before, possibly an older version.
Engrossed in whatever spell he was casting, Thea did not immediately realize that Kieran’s wings twitched.
Chapter 21
Kieran didn’t open his eyes immediately. He felt the sticky, warm fluid between his hand and Thea’s, but he didn’t dare let King Malachi know he was awake. Ainé had warned him that this might happen, but now that Thea had woken him, he couldn’t blow the only chance they had.
“I’m so sorry,” he heard her say, and wanted to say something back. He wanted to tell her how ridiculously foolish she was not to confide in him or trust him. He wanted to be angry with her for nearly getting herself killed. Most of all, though, he wanted to pull her into his arms and take her away to safety. Their lives were in danger at this very moment, and if Ainé was right, the lives of everyone in Faerie were at risk too.
“Thea,” he said in the lowest whisper he could manage. His wings shifted, just slightly, and he tightened his fingers around hers. He noticed the second it took her to react, as if she couldn’t believe what she felt, but she reacted. Her hand, which had been holding his tightly, loosened just in the slightest. He squeezed again and dared to open his eyes. The light took him a moment to adjust to, but he soon saw her gray gaze staring back at him full of tears. He did his best to communicate the importance of silence to her, but she seemed too shocked to say anything anyway. Her mouth fell open, just slightly, her bottom lip sticking out farther than her top lip. She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand, and he knew she understood exactly how quiet she needed to be.
“Kieran,” she mouthed his name, but it had the same effect on him as if she’d said it aloud. It said everything he needed to hear and more, but right now, they needed a plan. Slowly, he examined as much of the room as he physically could without moving a muscle. He saw the high window and chandelier and knew the exact room they were in. Despite the many years away, he’d grown up in this castle and knew it backwards and forwards. He even knew that if one were to go through the kitchens, there would be an exit which led to the gardens, which were only a brief run to the stables. This was his best plan of escape.
However, the look of absolute dread on Thea’s face told him he’d missed something very important. She glanced over to his left, and he dared to follow her gaze. He saw Amara, crumpled onto the floor, and then looked back at Thea.
“We can’t leave her,” she whispered, and Kieran held his breath hoping no one heard. He agreed with Thea; they couldn’t leave Iris’ daughter behind—no matter what she’d done. However, he didn’t know how he was supposed to get an unconscious teenager and a weakened Thea out of there alone.
“There’s a way out through the kitchens,” he said back as quietly as possible. He heard the guards by the door shift uncomfortably, but they said nothing. Thea nodded her head, just slightly, and he waited until the guards focused back on Malachi before making his move. Kieran exhaled the breath he’d been holding, letting the air bring life back into his burning lungs and reached for Thea’s hand. They were on their feet in the span of one swift movement, facing King Malachi.
“Get Amara and go,” he told Thea before anyone could react to their movement. Thankfully, she listened and ran straight for Amara, pulling her small, limp form up against her side. It was clear carrying Amara’s weight was a struggle, but she’d have to manage. The king had spun around, a golden goblet in his hand, and now stared at them with wide, angry eyes. The guards behind him moved, and Kieran observed it all in slow motion, focusing his senses. He’d trained for this. He’d prepared. And yet, it all felt more real with Thea in danger too. She stared at him with wide, questioning eyes, and he knew she didn’t want to run.
“Remember your promise.”
“I’m coming back for you.” Thea said the words just as the guards reached them. Kieran turned, spreading his wings wide to block Thea from their oncoming attacks, and saw her beginning to drag Amara toward the kitchens, where a few curious human eyes watched. Kieran faced the two winged Faeries with a small smile, relieved Thea was leaving, but knowing full well that she’d return.
“Kill them all,” he heard the king command. Kieran had no weapons, but a small dagger glistened on the ground, bloody and forgotten. He snatched it up and tucked his wings, rolling to the side just as the first guard lunged at him with his sword drawn. A loud screeching noise filled the room as a raven soared into the air, and meeting its eyes, Kieran knew that Morrigan was with them in her imprisoned form. He put the pieces together quickly enough to realize the ritual had already begun, but the most important thing he could do now was get Thea and Amara out of here safely.
The second guard lunged at him, but he dodged again, sticking his dagger in the soft crease of the guard’s armor. The guard let out a cry of pain as blood spurted from the open wound, and backed away from Kieran, gripping his side. The other guard lunged, catching Kieran’s arm with his sword, but the cut was only a scratch. Kieran spun on his heels to see that Thea was safely out of the room and then launched himself into the air, the guard close behind him.
The king screamed furiously as Morrigan dove back toward him. Kieran sensed he needed to keep the raven away from the goblet, but he didn’t know how, as more guards entered the dining hall. He dodged attack after attack, finally acquiring a sword from one guard, but the exhaustion was overwhelming. He’d been asleep for days, but his body felt stiff. He used magic as little as possible until the ogres and centaurs flooded the room. He prayed Thea got away.
Elizabeth and Millie met Thea in the kitchens as soon as she stumbled through the doors. She didn’t dare glance behind her to see if she was being followed. Now that the king had her blood, he had no use for her or Amara; they were expendable, and his focus would center on completing the ritual, not stopping them. Thea needed to get Amara to safety so that she could return to Kieran’s side. She thought of Mirielle’s prophecy, dread filling her stomach. Amara’s unconscious form weighed her down, but she knew exactly what she needed to do.
“Where are the stables?” she demanded. The sound of swords clashing and screams filled her ears, taunting and torturing her. Kieran was back there, fighting alone to give her time to leave, but she refused to leave him alone. It was her fault they were in this situation, and if anything happened to him, that would be her fault too. Elizabeth glared at Amara. �
��I made a promise that I intend to keep. I assure you I will punish her for what she has done, but for now, she is under my protection. Now, will you help us or not?”
Despite Thea’s exhaustion, she raised her head higher, hearing the note of authority in her voice. Millie glanced at her grandmother with wide eyes, and Elizabeth bowed her head slightly. Thea’s anger outweighed her apology for the harshness of her words. Her father had threatened too many people she loved, and she was ready to put an end to it, no matter how defeated she felt. She owed it to everyone she loved to stop him, or die trying.
“I’ll take you to the stables,” Millie finally said, bringing a sigh of relief to Thea’s lips.
“You two.” Thea looked at two young men who had stopped kneading bread to stare at the commotion happening in their kitchen. “Do you know how to fight?”
They looked unsure of their answer.
“Don’t let anyone follow us,” Elizabeth finished Thea’s thoughts, and the two nodded in agreement, grabbing kitchen utensils that would apparently be their weapons. One held a kitchen knife, while the other picked up a large pan. Both looked fearful, but Thea didn’t have time to worry about the innocent lives she was putting at risk. She needed to command whatever army she had and put a stop to this, or else they’d all be dead.
“Show me the stables.”
Thea, Elizabeth, and Millie hurried out of a side door, thankfully unfollowed by anyone. They shifted Amara’s weight between them, and she stirred.
“What’s happening?” she asked in a mumble. Her eyes blinked open slowly, but she did not shift her weight away from Thea’s arms. “Where are you taking me?” A note of fear echoed behind her words.
“You’re going to go for help,” Thea told her without meeting her eyes. She noticed the looks of disbelief on both Elizabeth and Millie’s faces. “You’re going to your mother.”