by K. A. Linde
Helly and Bastian shared a look.
“We’re still discussing it,” Bastian told her. “But we will do our due diligence.”
Society members were supposed to be above reproach. There should have been no reason to think otherwise. But this death was proof that someone in the Society was involved. Because there was only one reason to kill a man in these dungeons—to keep him from spilling your secrets.
3
The Hangover
Bang, bang, bang, bang.
Kerrigan felt every vibration of the fist against her door inside her skull. She groaned dramatically, covering her eyes with her forearm as she rolled over.
“Go away,” she muttered.
Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. Her eyes burned. At any moment, she might expel the entire contents of her stomach. Every single part of her body ached from head to toe. Normally, she’d have Darby create some kind of herbal potion to help with the hangover. Except Darby was no longer her roommate. She lived in a Row mansion, which meant there was no cure for this terrible feeling.
Bang, bang, bang, bang.
Kerrigan cursed the gods as she dragged her body out of bed. She ran a hand back through the frizz of her curly red hair. Sure that it looked like a rat’s nest. Then, she swung the door open.
“Can you keep it down?”
Her eyes moved up, up, up the layers of black silk to the Fae male towering over her in her doorway. It was a sin for someone to look like Prince Fordham Ollivier this early in the morning. He was six and a half feet of solid muscle with black hair that fell forward into his gray eyes, which were currently set on thunderstorm as they glared down at her. He radiated sinister energy, as if something dark and malevolent were trapped under his skin, so pale that it was near translucent. But Kerrigan had promptly gotten over the anger when he didn’t immediately try to kill her. Though he looked like he might try today.
“What are you still doing in bed?” he demanded.
She put her hand up and waved it downward in the general note of keeping it down. “Too loud.”
His grip tightened on the door until the wood creaked. “What in the gods’ names did you do last night?”
“I might have had a drink.” She let her emerald-green eyes meet his, squinting into the hallway light. “Or two.”
“Or ten,” he growled. “You’re a mess.”
“I’m going to sleep for a couple of hours.”
She started to close the door in his face, but he slammed his hand on it, keeping it open.
“We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. If you’re not ready in a half hour, I’m leaving without you.”
“Fine. That sounds nice.”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “Why are you always so much trouble?”
“It’s what makes me so endearing, princeling.”
He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Half an hour, Kerrigan, and then we’re going to the House of Shadows. You need to be ready.”
Then, he stalked away from her, leaving her floundering with the door. She glared after him. It would have been nice to stay within the confines of the mountain, where she was safe. Except she wasn’t safe. If there was someone working with Basem Nix within these walls, no one was safe.
Not that it’d be better in the House of Shadows. She’d be lucky if she ever came out of there again. She could snub Fordham, but despite their problems, she owed him. He’d offered her a spot in the House of Shadows when he could have left her to languish in Bryonican high society. It didn’t redeem him of everything else though.
He’d lied to her the entire time they were together. He’d been exiled from his people and decided to join the dragon tournament to earn a place back in the House of Shadows. It was the only reason he’d been able to leave the magical spell that had trapped them. Neither of them knew what would happen next. If they’d welcome him back. If he’d be able to leave again. Where it put them.
Kerrigan cursed again.
She didn’t want to think about them. And the fact that there was no them.
But she couldn’t stay here even if she was mad at him. She was a member of the House of Shadows. She wouldn’t let Fordham face it alone.
So, she changed into her traveling gear, plaited her obnoxiously tangled hair down her back, and grabbed the bag she’d packed yesterday. She opted not to eat anything. Not with how her stomach was behaving. Then, she headed up to the dragon aerie. The brighter and brighter it got, the worse her eyes watered, and the more painful her headache, but she hadn’t doubted Fordham when he said that he would leave her. He was a man of his word… until he wasn’t.
Kerrigan eased past the row of dragons. Some of them said hello as she passed, but most were still sleeping. Then, she found her dragon.
Her dragon.
It was still unbelievable to even think that at all. She’d loved flying from the moment she arrived in the House of Dragons. She’d thought that her last flight was a month ago, and now, she had her own dragon that she could fly whenever she wanted.
“Morning, Tieran,” she said as she approached the midnight-blue dragon.
He was small for his kind, smaller even than normal, but he was quick and determined.
Ah, so Fordham got your lazy self out of bed, he spoke directly into her mind.
And also a jerk.
She sighed. She wasn’t ready to deal with Tieran’s behavior today. They’d never liked each other, and honestly, she still didn’t know why he’d picked her in the dragon tournament. He could have had Fordham or any of the other competitors. Instead, he’d picked her. So, here they were.
“Let’s get this over with,” she told him.
She could have sworn that he rolled his gold slitted eyes as he turned away from her.
“You made it,” Fordham said stiffly.
He’d thrown a thick cloak over his silks. Even in the heart of summer, it was cold in the skies. She’d forgotten hers. Great.
“I’m all ready to go.”
Fordham reached into his pack and tossed her a cloak. “Figured you’d forget yours.”
She bit her lip. “Thanks.”
Their eyes met across the short distance. Tension sparked between them. She wanted to go to him, to bridge that space, like they had in the gazebo of her father’s Row mansion. The taste of his lips still lingered. After a month of her visions constantly pulling them together, them learning not to hate each other and then to trust each other, only for her to be rejected …
It still panged in her chest when she looked at him. He’d wanted it too. She knew that he had, but it couldn’t happen. Fordham was cursed to hurt anyone he cared about. Even though she would risk it for him, he wouldn’t risk it for her. And didn’t that make all the difference?
She averted her gaze and settled instead on his dragon. “Good morning, Netta.”
The red-jeweled dragon inclined her head. Kerrigan, it’s always a pleasure.
See, why couldn’t she have gotten Netta as her dragon? Netta was as mischievous as Kerrigan had ever been. They would have been a perfect pair.
“Let’s get going. We have a few hours in the skies before we reach the House of Shadows,” Fordham said.
Kerrigan secured her pack to Tieran’s back. Fordham must have already attached a saddle for her comfort. Her throat tightened up, and she tried to ignore how much she wanted to fix this between them. But it couldn’t be fixed. That much was clear.
“Did you hear about what happened last night?”
“Beyond your inebriation?” Fordham asked.
“Basem was found dead in the dungeons.”
His head snapped to her. “What? When?”
“Last night, when I got back in, I went down to speak with Helly and Bastian about it.”
He withdrew into himself. “There is a plant inside the Society.”
She nodded. “That’s what I think too. Helly told me not to get involved.”
He rolled his eyes. “
Good luck with that.”
“I guess it’s good that we’re going away for two weeks.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “Hopefully, they’ll have caught the person by the time we return.”
Or we could not go.
But she didn’t offer the alternative. Fordham needed to go home, and she needed to see the tribe that she had sworn herself to.
“Let’s hope,” she said. “I’d like someone else to step up once in a while.”
He just sighed. “Get on your dragon.”
She laughed at his exasperation. “So, where exactly is the House of Shadows?”
The archives of the thirteenth tribe had been stricken from record. Their magicked home erased from maps and memory. Only high-ranking Society members had access to that knowledge and unsuspecting humans who wandered across the spell line.
“North,” Fordham said before vaulting onto Netta’s back.
“North,” she muttered. “Right. Super helpful.”
“You’ll know when you need to know.”
“I’m a member of the House of Shadows now,” she grumbled. “You could just tell me.”
“You’re not actually.”
Kerrigan froze with her hand on Tieran’s leg. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not a member of the House of Shadows.”
“But you said to the council …”
“What they wanted to hear.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You cannot be a member until you swear fealty to my father, King Samael Ollivier.” He paused, looking momentarily forlorn. “And he accepts you into his court.”
Kerrigan gulped. “You didn’t say that your dad had to accept me.”
“What would have been the point?”
“What if he rejects me?”
Fordham shrugged. “We won’t let that happen.”
Kerrigan blinked up at him, her headache now the least of her worries. She put her foot into Tieran’s leg and hoisted herself into the saddle. She wobbled slightly and felt her stomach clench. She tightened her grip on the pommel.
If you throw up on me, then you will be walking to the House of Shadows, Tieran said irritably.
“Noted,” she grumbled.
Netta took the lead, gliding toward the exit and then flying out the entrance. Tieran followed behind her. Normally, this was Kerrigan’s favorite part—the first free fall into oblivion before they leveled off—but today, it was the last thing she wanted. She should have given up a few extra minutes to run to the infirmary for something to settle her stomach. But it was too late now.
“Take it easy,” she pleaded with Tieran, but he either didn’t hear her or didn’t care.
He vaulted off of the stone opening in the mountain. He tucked his wings in tight to his body as they plummeted hundreds of feet toward the surface of the valley. Kerrigan’s stomach rose to her throat. She closed her eyes and held on for dear life, hoping that she wouldn’t unleash the drink from last night onto her dragon. She didn’t doubt that he wouldn’t let her ride the rest of the way.
Then, at the last second, his wings exploded out of him, and they rose as he caught the wind. Going up might be worse, as it jolted her stomach down toward her toes. She leaned hard against the saddle, running her hands along his cool scales to try to settle herself as they pulled up into a glide off of Netta’s right wing.
“That was not nice,” she groaned.
Tieran’s body rumbled, as if he was laughing at her. Ass.
If they were bonded, as they were supposed to be, he would have been able to feel her discomfort. He wouldn’t have tried something like that because he would have suffered too. But nothing had gone how it was supposed to.
At the bonding ceremony, they had both drunk the potion that would connect them for life. She went under and saw a vision of her father being beaten by a large man in a white toga. She’d never seen anyone like that before, and when she tried to get the man to stop, he looked at her. She had no idea what any of that meant, but as soon as she returned to herself, she knew it had gone wrong. She and Tieran hadn’t bonded.
They couldn’t tell anyone either. He would have been sent back to the Holy Mountain without getting a dragon rider, and no one had wanted her to have a dragon in the first place. They’d use any excuse to kick her out. So, they had to keep this secret to themselves and hope they survived dragon training together.
Kerrigan had doubts about that, but first, she had to survive the House of Shadows.
4
The Journey
Netta says that we’re close, Tieran informed her.
“Good,” she said into the wind. She was as ready as she’d ever be.
Fordham gestured for them to fly lower toward a small depression in the surrounding mountains. It was an uninhabited valley between two mountains, not nearly as large as Kinkadia, but Kinkadia was the oldest city on the continent. It had been here even before Fae began to inhabit it.
“There’s nothing down there,” she said.
The closer they grew to the ground, the worse she felt about landing. As if she were being repelled from the valley floor by a force of nature. Her stomach, which had finally been settling, began to grumble.
“I don’t like this.”
Nor I, Tieran admitted.
It must have taken a lot to shake a dragon. Whatever was in that valley was not something that she wanted to see. It felt like a physical presence against her mind, telling her to walk away. She swallowed and hoped they weren’t making a mistake.
Finally, Tieran landed softly in the moss-filled valley. Kerrigan slid off of his back with her stomach in her throat.
“What the hell is this place?” Kerrigan asked. “And why did we land here? I’ve heard of this place before, and nothing good can come from being near this valley.”
“You’ve heard of this valley?” Fordham asked as he dropped onto the moss next to her.
“Death’s Valley,” she whispered as if the air would take up the challenge. “No one flies over it or walks into it and returns alive. It’s only on maps to deter wayward travelers from venturing too near. They say the air is toxic and will addle your senses.”
Fordham looked amused by the notion. “Interesting propaganda. I feel nothing.”
It was the first time she’d noticed that he did seem completely unaffected. Meanwhile, she was practically cowering away from the valley.
“Why?” she managed to get out.
He gestured dramatically. “I give you the House of Shadows.”
Kerrigan frowned and followed his gesture, but she didn’t see anything. Just that sick feeling washing over her. “This is the House of Shadows?”
“You’ll see when we cross the dividing line.” Fordham shouldered his pack and then patted Netta twice. “You and Tieran should go. My home is no place for dragons any longer.”
Netta nuzzled his side, speaking directly to him. He smiled at her in a way that meant that their bond had clearly worked. Kerrigan had to look away from the display. She and Tieran would never have that.
She grabbed her own pack off of Tieran.
Don’t get killed, he said.
“What is this, sentiment?” she joked.
He puffed a hot breath out of his nostrils. Hardly. But if you die and I don’t, someone is going to know that we weren’t bonded.
She rolled her eyes. “As if that would be your greatest concern.”
Just don’t die.
“I don’t plan to,” she told him by way of good-bye and followed Fordham across the moss-covered path.
The farther they walked, the more oppressive the sensation got. Whoever had created this spellwork did a magnificent job. It completely repelled her and had ended up so ingrained in their history that Kerrigan hadn’t known Death’s Valley was hiding the mouth of the House of Shadows.
“How do humans and half-Fae end up on your property if it makes them feel this sick?”
“Usually desperation. The F
ae have closed off their hunting grounds or refused them help. So, the only option is to brave us.”
Kerrigan sighed. Yes, that sounded very plausible. “Starvation or suicide.”
“Basically. Some of them aren’t repelled by the land though,” he said easily. “We weren’t the only people here when we were trapped behind the magical barrier. Humans and half-Fae coexisted with us, and many escaped during the Great War. Their descendants don’t feel the oppression and can come and go.” Fordham frowned. “It’s our one source of trade.”
“You trade with humans?”
Fordham’s face was like stone. “My father doesn’t like it, but he permits it. We have a sort of truce with a nearby village.”
“Interesting.”
So, Fordham wasn’t the first to work with the enemy. And they didn’t just kill humans and half-Fae, unprompted. Maybe she wouldn’t die on sight when she entered. Maybe.
“Here,” Fordham said, going suddenly still. “This is the border for the barrier.”
Now that Kerrigan was right in front of it, she could almost put the pain aside. She closed her eyes, putting her hand out in front of her. A humming vibrated against her hand as she felt the edges of the spellwork. It was ancient and powerful. Unlike anything she had ever seen before in her life. Completely invisible to the naked eye and yet all-consuming. To be able to have multiple uses—keeping the House of Shadows inside, repelling everyone else, and shielding its location—was a marvel. Even at a lucky thirteen casters, she couldn’t imagine any group being strong enough to contain this much power.
A shock hit her palm. She yelped and stepped back, breaking her connection with the invisible wall.
“What was that?” Fordham asked.
“I don’t know.”
She’d never had a spell react to her like that. And she’d had plenty of strange magical things happen to her.
Five years ago, she’d discovered that she had visions of the future. Gelryn the Destroyer, the formidable dragon of the Great War, called her a harbinger. After her series of visions during the dragon tournament, which brought her and Fordham together and led her to win the tournament, Gelryn had discovered that she was a spiritcaster. There hadn’t been one in a millennium, and when she returned to Kinkadia, she would have to find a way to control her spirit magic or else be consumed by it.