Queen to Ashes (Black Dawn Series Book 2)

by Mallory McCartney

  Swearing, she wrenched the blade from the now melting ice and ran. The wall remained, sweat trickling down her spine as she pushed her energy into it, making it circle them, holding them off for a moment. She didn’t understand it, but suspended between the threads of life and death, something had happened. An exchange of energy within her ability where she had absorbed Adair’s magic, but instead of fading, it had stayed.

  Stumbling, Emory fell, skin tearing from her knees. Pushing off the ground, she stood back up and stilled. One of the Oilean stood in front of her, pale skin, slowly tilting her head to a sickly angle.

  “You and Adair are so similar. The power flowing in your veins is intoxicating.”

  Emory didn’t wait as she charged. Her sword was sturdier in her grip than she had suspected. With protesting muscles, and gaining momentum, she swung Anithe toward the Oilean’s throat. The creature dodged Emory with ease, and as Emory watched in horror, her sharpened teeth grew and elongated along with razor-sharp nails. Panting, her arm shook, and the creature surged, emerald light shooting forward.

  For me. She screamed as she ran, flames around her roaring, jumping to life from the steel. For my family. They collided, and she felt the claws dig into her skin, throwing her down to the ground. Scrambling up, Emory wheezed, lashing out with a small push dagger she had sheathed in her boot. Gravity spun as she felt the ripping sensation-she was torn from her body, her claws sinking into the mind of the Oilean. Commanding her ability, Emory bowed against the force of the power running through her veins.

  “Do you think you can touch me with your little tricks, girl?”

  Emory felt the fist connect with her jaw, as she was slammed back into her body, landing on her back completely winded. All she could see was the night, the leaves in the Noctis woods illuminated, as if they contained their own moonlight. The stars winked down from the velvet sky as embers fell around her. She tasted blood, trickling slowly into the back of her mouth and the world spun.

  The Oilean burst from the shadows, teeth snapping, bones cracking, pinning Emory down when she went to get up. Saliva dripped from her peeled back lips, dripping on to Emory’s cheek. Screaming, Emory tried to push the Oilean off her as all around her giggles erupted-her heart dropped into her stomach.

  A slow clapping sounded as Declan emerged from the shadows, the dabarnes snarling at his heels, looking at her with burning hunger. Those familiar features cut through her like a knife. His dark hair. Brooding features. His stance, his jacket.

  “Emory. Emory. Emory. What were you hoping to achieve? I applaud your valor,” Declan cooed as he crouched down beside her, and the Oilean pressed down harder on her chest when she squirmed. Emory felt tears slip from the corner of her eyes.

  “I wish I could promise this is going to be painless. And fast.” He licked his dry lips, his anticipation bleeding into his voice. “But it’s going to be neither.” Panic flared within her, but instead of debilitating her, Emory felt a spark of something stronger: The feeling first within her core, her ability intertwining with Adair’s. It spread fast, into her arms and legs, that familiar tingling building within her palms and spirit. It felt like a breath of fresh air, as the veil within her mind was pulled back and what Emory found there was power.

  A streak of gold flew from the night, his howl earth-splitting as he locked his massive teeth around Declan’s midriff, throwing him halfway across the clearing. Brokk shifted, pulling two elegant twin blades from their sheaths strapped across his back. Locking eyes with the Oilean, pure hatred flashed in his eyes.

  “You.” That one word Brokk spoke completely shattered her. The pain laced his words, as he became nothing but pure and undiluted power.

  Shoving hard, Emory’s knee jammed into the creature’s stomach as she rolled, finding her feet as the Oilean’s hisses surrounded them in a sick harmony. Brokk was shifting between wolf and man, using each strength to his advantage, and she was stunned as she watched him. He wielded the swords with mastery as he cut and slashed so fast that he was a blur. The Oilean circled him, lunging and clawing, for the moment completely forgetting her.

  Suddenly a hand wrapped around her matted hair, pulling her across the forest floor, her screams escalating.

  “You both are becoming an annoying problem, Princess.”

  She felt Declan’s magic start to trickle into her veins, and screamed, “No!” She slammed every ounce of her ability upwards to meet the king: The ground beneath them shuddered. Declan paused, narrowing his eyes before their world erupted in shadows.

  She flew straight for him, slamming her fist into his jaw, snapping his head back. Her ability was strong, but Adair’s had always been stronger. And now Emory realized the two were intertwined, coursing in her soul, making her blood sing with lethal power. A wall of ice erupted in between them, the expanse of it circling around the king. He rushed up to the ice wall, both of their chests heaving as their reflections shone off the peerless surface.

  “It seems that I have acquired a few new tricks,” Emory said.

  With a flick of her wrist, the world changed again. Tree roots shot from the ground, the gnarled edges surging toward him. Locking her eyes with Declan’s, she stalked forward. The wind started howling, ice and rain, whipping around him, the rolling thunder rolling in the cover of the night. The ground rumbled louder, this time splitting as bones of animals long forgotten floated up. She blanched at the dark magic, but the skeletons appeared, skulls turning in her direction.

  Emory whispered, “Help me.” In a flash of lightning, the bones reconnected as they circled the king, and she stood taller. “This is my kingdom. Mine. And you will never take that away from us.”

  The creatures attacked as she slammed back in to her reality, rushing to pick up Ainthe as the flames jumped to life, dividing the Oilean and Brokk. Brokk locked eyes with her, the flames dancing in his wide eyes. Charging up to him, he shifted as Emory clamored on his back, yelling, “RUN!”

  Galloping through the night, Emory hunched low, gripping his fur. She couldn’t look back and shut her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I will explain the best that I can. Go to the docks, and we’ll sail for the Shattered Isles to get to Marquis. I think that’s the only way, Brokk, that we can save the rebellion. We need help.”

  Brokk’s muscles tensed as they wove deeper into the forest. A roar erupted behind them-emerald arrows exploding into the tree next to them. Pushing faster, the forest blurred as the wind roared in her ears, Brokk’s pounding paws against the earth her personal metronome. Panting, she held on, her energy having expended too much. Once again, Brokk was her only hope.

  Snow appeared suddenly, fast and blinding, and ice cracked behind them, consuming the trees, covering the forest floor, racing up to meet them. Breaking through the tree line, salty air whipped around them as waves crashed, wild seafoam rushing up to meet the shore. Brokk’s head whipped to the north, as they spotted the tall ship and the two women screaming at them from it. Not breaking stride, his paws beat against the ground, and she felt the tug of energy, the cutting edge of the ice.

  “BROKK FOSTER!”

  Twisting, she saw Declan emerge, his sword dripping with ashes as if it was just incinerated. The Oilean came up beside him, the woods shimmering behind them, but they paused, the dabarnes filing into a line, watching them escape. Narrowing her eyes, Emory locked eyes with the Dark King as he smirked dangerously.

  “I will start with them!” he shouted.

  Her blood ran cold, but Brokk didn’t stop. Rushing onto the dock, they flew, the wood bending under their weight; growling, he jumped, scaling onto the vast ship’s side.

  Rolling, the wind was knocked out of her as she landed. “Riona, now!” Emory barked.

  The blacksmith jumped at her voice, cutting ropes as the ship groaned, bending toward the will of the ocean.

  “Get the anchor up! And the sails!” Kiana yelled.

  Brokk shifted, crossing the space as he loosened the sails. Kiana snapped her fingers, and w
ith a crack, the anchor flew on board from the sea. They caught wind as the three of them ran, securing knots. The ship lurched, waves crashing all around them. Staggering, Emory wobbled to the edge, looking out to her country, the five figures slowly becoming distant shadows until they disappeared, completely lost on the horizon.

  The waves swelled around her, but she still heard Brokk softly clearing his voice behind her.

  “Em?” Her heart rammed unevenly against her chest at Brokk’s voice as her shame rushed up to meet her. “Em, please.”

  Her muscles quaked as the horizon bled into the night, and they were left at the mercy of sea. Its untamedness. Its unpredictability.

  Slowly, she turned. His shirt was bloodied and plastered to his skin, the sea spray and vicious bucking of the waters beneath them making it impossible to stay dry. Her gaze traveled up to his arms, his neck, the scars roping thickly across it.

  Swallowing, she found his burning eyes, flashing like embers. “We did it. We escaped them,” Emory breathed.

  A sad smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. “For now, anyway.”

  Emory and Brook looked at the fierce women staring at them openly, both beaming as they steered the ship into the wrath and freedom beyond. Brokk cocked an eyebrow shaking his head. “These two don’t know the art of being subtle.”

  “Are they from the Shattered Isles?” she asked.

  “I wish. Truly, it would make things simpler.” Looking at her quaking body, Brokk’s voice was soft, unsure, as he continued, “Kiana and Riona don’t need help sailing. They are...talented. We can’t do any more for right now. Let’s try and get some sleep.”

  She tilted her head, taking him in. Exhaling hard, she nodded. “Okay. Okay.” And Brokk was there, reaching for her hand. His skin was warm, despite having the freezing water soak them to the bone, despite the fact he had defied life and death for her. Despite everything. Her actions. Defiance. Mistrust.

  As Kiero became nothing more than a speck, a lingering knowledge that it was there, Emory smiled. Time and time again, he showed up at her side. Taking the first step, Brokk led her and supporting each other, they made their way down below decks. The wind was freezing, the echoes of autumn haunting at their backs.

  “So, you remember Marquis, huh?” His voice was low.

  Shrugging, the movement seared through her muscles. “Adair had a great interest in trying to...appease him for the war. I intend to do the same.”

  His golden eyes darkened, the ring of molten around the iris turning almost a deep chocolate color. “He will not take Adair’s death lightly. Despite everything.”

  “I haven’t taken his death lightly. Despite everything.” It snapped out of her and a shadow crossed his face. Sighing, Emory picked up her pace. Their boots hit the wet floor with a slap as she grappled for words. “Brokk...” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she tried to find a way to begin to explain, to cover what had happened while she was with Adair.

  The waves crashed against the ship viciously, pounding and pounding as if every attempt was to capsize them. Thunder rolled, slow at first and then building, until it crashed around them. I killed innocent people. Brokk’s eyes found hers in the half-darkness, his breath catching. How can I become queen when I feel like I am barely holding on? How can I be me?

  They stood there, suspended between exhaustion and silence. This hunger in me...

  Her eyes burned, and she blinked hard, looking past him.

  “Where are the bunks?” Emory chose to say instead.

  The wind howled-their gravity bucked. Narrowing his eyes, he motioned for her to follow. With wobbly legs, she forced her body to comply, shoving the last couple of minutes behind her. Sleep was quickly chased away by her impossible task at hand, and she bit the inside of her cheek until the thick taste of blood filled her mouth.

  Flinging a door open, the hinges creaking, she watched his defined back tense. Two bunkers were neatly stacked on the right side of the room which was the size of a closet. The air was musty and damp, but a stack of blankets waited for them. She just wanted to be able to sleep without nightmares, without friends and family that were long lost whispering to her. Of a life that was now lost.

  “If you need anything, Em, I’m just down the hall...”

  “No.” It was a whisper, a conviction, a plea, a hope. She had been so wrong. Locking onto his gaze, she murmured, “I want you to stay.” Lifting her chin, the storm raged outside as they sailed on the edge of the world; she searched his face.

  “I know I have let you down. I know I’m not the same person, but how can I be? Both of us, our lives have been ripped in opposite directions, and now everything is patched together, and we must figure out a way not to fall. I can’t do this without you. I don’t even know if I can do this, but I’m here. I’m fighting. Like you said, I’m fighting for me.”

  Brokk was frozen, his gaze flickering over her.

  “I’m terrified, Brokk. A few months ago, I was worried about dating and starting to plan the end of summer bazaar at work, and now...” I’ve defied worlds because of you. Swallowing hard, she tried to still her shaking hands. “I doubt that I am the person the rebellion has been waiting for. That Memphis was waiting for. That you were waiting for.”

  In a second, he was there crushing her against his chest. Warmth blossomed through her aching body, and tears began streaking down her cheeks.

  “Em. Em.”

  His hug was like walking home after a long day. Knowing that at the end, a safe space was waiting for her, no judgement, and unconditionally always there. The ship bucked as he broke away, gently grabbing her frozen fingers, leading her into the room. Shutting the door, she looked up, finding such a deep understanding waiting for her in his eyes, and she didn’t know what to do or say.

  “You know, after you left, I was angry for a long time. The world literally fell apart, and there wasn’t a day that passed that I didn’t think about what happened. What you asked. Did you make the right choice? Could we have confronted Adair then? After a long time, I realized beyond that anger and jealousy, I found something within myself,” Brokk said.

  “What?” she breathed, as she sat on the lowest bunker.

  “Trust. That above all else, I trusted you. I always have. And I knew the day would come, and we would meet again.” He paused. “Emory Fae, you are still my best friend, so don’t think for a minute that you aren’t the one I was waiting for.”

  Her cheeks burned as her mouth ran dry. Sitting next to her, he leaned back against the damp bedpost. “So, with that out of the way, what are we going to do? You believe Marquis will be willing to hear us out when he has been absent this entire war?”

  “Has he known that you were even alive?” she countered, as she leaned back, hyper aware of the little space between them. “Besides, if Adair had his eye on him, don’t you think we should see why?”

  Running a hand over his mouth, he murmured, “And what about the Rebellion? Memphis, Nyx, and Alby?”

  “They are with another group. You weren’t the only ones to survive. Alby’s twin brother, Azarius, got them out. Or so I hope.”

  Recognition lit in his eyes. “So that’s the other scent I tracked then. He saved you?”

  “Yes,” Emory said before launching in to her side of what happened. At first, the words felt awkward and dry, and again, she was a ghost, living a second life. One that had died in her innocence, in the trust she had placed in strangers.

  Time slipped away as she finished, leaving Brokk gawking. “Alby has a twin brother? All this time, and he never thought to mention that?”

  “Seriously? That’s what you’re stuck on?”

  His lopsided grin lit up his face as he shrugged, then he fell quiet, shaking his head. “That night...everything changed. For all of us.”

  Shut in the dingy room of the ship, she looked at him. The world started to feel far away as she nodded. “But not as much as it changed when two strangers showed up in my apartment living room.”r />
  Rolling his eyes, Brokk stared at the ceiling. “Well, you know, I was tired of waiting for you. The world needed the Fae name back.”

  “And what makes you think I wasn’t equally waiting for all of you? This world? My story?”

  “Even a bloodied one?” he asked.

  “If it was the truth, then yes. It’s better than living a lie.”

  He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “Then I should tell you who those two talented women are up above and why they can sail a ship by themselves.”

  The storm raged all around them as his tale dipped into the darkest corners of her heart, one of witches and torture. One of dark forces beyond her comprehension, of the magic that had manipulated them all to this moment. Of a lost city, of myths and a stolen prince.

  The hours slipped by, and she gaped, at a complete loss for words once again when he finished. Meekly, Brokk searched her face. “When the Oilean were torturing me, they mentioned a prophecy that I believe held a sliver of truth. But not of us as siblings. And not that we would destroy the world. It was of us born from two crowns; having the ability to stop their war. They knew exactly why they were coming to our world. They just tried to ensure we wouldn’t find out the truth.”

  The ship bucked violently, thunder reverberating outside. The world spun and she swore, holding her head in her hands. Sucking in deep breaths, Emory tried to digest it all. Panic clutched her heart.

  “One step at a time, Em. Like trying to get some rest from coming back from the dead?” His tone was soft, his concern hanging in the air.

  Blinking tiredly, she ran a hand through her tangled hair, whispering, “We should check in with Kiana.”

  “Em.”

  “I’m fine.” The lie was blatant, but Emory couldn’t begin to address her emotions.

  Narrowing his eyes, he nodded, standing; bones popped causing him to groan. “I will go. Just try and get some rest okay?”

  Sighing, she gave in. Emory watched him step out of the room, then her gaze landed on her necklace, the ebony reflecting against her pale skin. The door shut with a click. She swore again, grabbing a blanket and moving to lay on her back. Her stomach rolled viciously as she pressed her eyes shut.