Gade
a horrendous squawking noise rouses me from my nap where dreams of this afternoon’s argument with Holly play on repeat, tormenting me with the foolish words I spoke aloud and the smart ones that I did not.
When I lift my head from the pillows, I find Lleu hopping on the balustrade outside my window as if the stone beneath his feet is on fire.
Yawning, I leap from the bed furs without bothering to throw a robe on and pad barefoot onto the balcony to admonish my eagle.
A golden moon hangs low in the sky, crowned by a purple mist—a sign of bad tidings—that I immediately attribute to Holly’s departure tomorrow. Really, it should be the least of my concerns. After all, what is one mortal girl to a future king of Faery?
Nothing, I tell myself.
Everything, counters the voice of the curse.
My jaw clenches as I realize which inner voice I agree with—the curse this time, not my own rational mind, a sense of helplessness igniting my temper, which poor Lleu is about to bear the brunt of.
“Instead of making all that racket,” I growl out, “why don’t you come inside and shut your jabbering beak?”
Ignoring my outstretched arm, Lleu casts me an evil eye then flies around my chambers, extinguishing candles, landing on picture frames, bookshelves, my desk, picking up objects with his feet and dropping them on the inlaid-wood floor.
I cross my arms and watch. “Are you trying to tell me something by destroying my belongings or have you gone completely mad?”
Lleu lands in front of the arched doors, his wings outstretched as he bites limbs from a satyr’s body that’s carved into the wooden frame. Trouble brews in the kingdom, and my eagle wishes to lead me into it.
“All right, Lleu, I understand. I am to follow you without delay. But unless you’re about to guide me to a forest revel, which I must advise I have no desire to attend, then please allow me a moment to get dressed.”
Screeching, he hops up and down, his distress hastening my movements. “If it’s so important, why don’t you show me what’s troubling you?”
I still my thoughts, waiting for his mind to connect with mine and images to flow, but none come. “Lleu, calm yourself and try again.”
Nothing happens. He’s far too agitated for the task, which sends a bolt of alarm coursing through my blood. I could cast a glamor and leave immediately, but I have a feeling that wherever we’re going, I’ll be glad of the protection of clothing.
I throw on a shirt while Lleu tugs at my leather trousers, dragging them off a chair, along the floor, and delivering them at my feet with another ear-splitting screech.
“That’s very helpful of you,” I say, tugging the pants on with rough movements. He squawks as if I’ve dealt him a grave insult. I laugh, then strap on arm bracers and chest armor, and sit on the bed to begin work on my boots.
The door opens, the corridor sconces casting a triangle of light on the threshold that Mern’s armored body steps into. “Brother, Nestera is gone. I’ve been trying to find you, but a scuffle between Uncle Fyarn’s new retainer and his chambermaid waylaid me. You should have seen it. What a mess. They nearly tore each other to shreds.”
Lleu takes to the air again, flying in a haphazard spiral around Mern’s head and shrieking as loudly as he can. At the moment, I don’t care about Fyarn’s servants. I have much bigger fae to fry.
“Nestera’s gone?” I lace my boots quickly, barely glancing at Mern. “Where? On holiday to Port Neo?”
“This is no time for jests. Terra says she is locked in the Spike Tower.”
“What? By who?”
“My fire mage’s spies tell me there are fae in your kingdom who believe Nestera is in collusion with Holly against your court, and her gift of the pendant is proof.”
“Absolute nonsense,” I say. “The girl is harmless. You’ve said as much yourself.”
“We know that, Gade. But there are many courtiers who don’t trust her.” Mern shields her face with her arms as Lleu swoops past, knocking books from shelves, knives and goblets from tables and sideboards. “What is wrong with your eagle?”
“I think he’s one step ahead of you, Sister, and wants us to help Nestera. Go ahead to the stables,” I tell Lleu. “We’ll be right behind you.”
In a flash of black and gold, Lleu swoops over my head and exits the room.
As I finish strapping my sword and numerous daggers and blades to my body, I follow Mern through the doors, telling the guards in the hallway to allow no one to enter. “You’ve checked on Holly? She’s safe?”
Mern’s footsteps falter. “No, dammit. I’m a mudbrain. Wait… Let me take a look.” She stands still and closes her eyes, concentrating. My sister’s earth magic allows her to cast her mind to another space if it’s reasonably close by, a useful but not entirely reliable skill.
“Gade, she’s not in the hall or her chambers.”
Mern breaks into a run, and I follow, taking the lead as we race through the warren of hallways on the royal floor, telling myself not to lose my head. The human is ungovernable, reckless, and has most likely taken a stroll before dinner, that is all.
She is fine.
She will be fine.
Along the way, we crash into Rhapsowen, sending her sprawling.
Mern helps her up, and together they collect the pile of tumbled gowns. “Have you seen Holly, the human girl?”
“Yes,” says the seamstress. “She came to me wanting ropes and twine… Mab knows what for.”
I seize her shoulders. “How long ago? Did she say where she was going?”
“An hour before dusk. I directed her to the market stalls for the other items she was seeking.”
“The Spike,” Mern and I say then leap onto the fluorite handrail and slide down all the way to the third-floor exit that leads to the external stairs closest to the stables.
We saddle our horses and combine our magic to move earth and wind to arrive at the Spike Tower in record time, Lleu flying silently above us.
When we arrive, the tower is as solemn and bleak as usual, and all is silent and still around it, the forest strangely so.
I send Lleu to peer through the cell’s open window, and in no time, he returns to show me images of the changeling alone and unchained, but no sign of Holly, dammit.
Leaping, I grab hold of the weaver’s rope that swings some distance from the ground, then climb up and through the window. Without delay, I hoist the weakened changeling onto my back and hurry down again.
“Where is Holly?” I demand the moment our feet hit the ground. Without waiting for her answer, I vault onto Wren’s back.
“Aer took her, my prince,” Nestera croaks. “All three of them dissolved in a vortex of powerful air magic.”
I lean forward over Wren, readying to charge back into the woods, but Mern seizes my arm and wrenches me back.
“Wait, Gade. Aer will have protected the location with a veil,” she says. “Wherever they are, it won’t be visible from the ground. Nestera, can you return to the castle alone?”
“At a slow pace, yes, I can,” the changeling answers, already hobbling into the trees.
“Good thinking, Mern. Lleu, I need your help.” My eagle lands on my bracer. “Search above the forest. I will use your sight and seek disturbances in the energy field. When you find one, return quickly and guide us as close to the location as possible.”
Settling my body in the saddle, I rest my hands, palms up, on my thighs, let my consciousness merge with Lleu’s, then release him to the sky. Cold wind rushes by as we fly through the velvet night, swooping over treetops. Through the eyes of my eagle, the forest is an enormous beast, teeming with elemental magic, its limbs heavy with slumber and no whispers moving through its leaves or branches.
Aer has cast a spell upon the woods, for I see no dryads or wild fae cavorting under the stars, when nighttime is their favorite time to play.
A fracture in the fabric of the air, purple-edged and roughly the shape of Talamh Cúig’s tournament oval, becomes visible in the center of the forest.
“There! You’ve found it,” I tell Lleu. “Hurry and return to us.” As he wings sharply around, I let my mind fall away from his and land back in my body, opening my eyes with a painful grunt. Mind travel is not the most pleasant of experiences.
“Aer has gone deep into the trees,” I tell Mern. “I know the direction. Quickly, let’s meet Lleu along the way.”
Forming a picture of Holly’s face, her generous smile and exquisite lips, I imagine kissing her, and power sizzles through my lungs, heart, and limbs.
As I glamor the horses with wind magic to gain speed, Mern says, “Gade, wait. Nestera mentioned three of them disappearing in Aer’s magic. She is not alone.”
“I know. I suspect Serain will be with her. But I was a fool not to confirm his identity.”
As we take off at speed, I prepare myself for battle. If Aer has harmed the human, she has broken her vow and risks the severest of punishment from the High Mage. Banishment from court, her powers tethered to the land and inaccessible for her own use.
And how will I punish her?
Rage clouds my mind.
If Holly is dead, I will destroy Aer, rip her to pieces, and damn the consequences.
At the edge of the magical veil, Mern and I combine powers to tear an opening through it, galloping onward until we reach a gate set deep in high walls made of crumbling, dark stone.
We dismount, and Mern asks, “Will your powers hold?”
“When I get closer to Holly, I assure you they will.”
“Interesting. Next time we take wine together, Brother, you have some explaining to do.”
I grunt. “Expect me to be otherwise occupied with princely duties.”
We thrust our palms out and blast the gate off its hinges, clearing our way into a narrow entry passage. Drawing our swords, we run through a dark maze and follow Lleu, who flies above and directs us through the serpentine corridors toward our quarry.
Holly.
The human is alive—I feel her life force thrumming in my blood—and if anything happens to her, the fae responsible will pay the price for their crime in never-ending pain and tears.
I vow it.
Finally, we round a corner and confront a vision from my worst nightmare—Holly spinning inside a vortex of flames, her mouth gaping wide on a silent scream.
Uncle Fyarn stands in front of the fire.
“Move, Uncle, or you’ll be struck,” I yell as Mern and I prepare to unleash havoc, moving our hands through a series of patterns, molding the elements to our wills.
Thunder rumbles in the sky above, and I’d wager every gold coin in the treasury that it signals the air mage is fleeing the scene.
The ground shakes, and instead of moving out of the way, my uncle begins to chant. He is selfless, not caring for his own wellbeing. And now, the magic of three fae will combine to destroy Aer’s malevolent sorcery.
All the elements obey and respond to my call, earth strengthened by Mern’s power, the ground swaying and cracking beneath our feet. We hold strong, pushing through the agony of power coursing through our bodies, then at last, the flames gutter and disappear beneath the rubble.
Holly’s body sinks with the debris, but Mern and I raise more power and lift her into the air, bringing her to rest on the ground beside the rubble. We rush toward her, but Fyarn blocks us.
“Uncle?” I say, shock and confusion icing my veins.
What is happening here?
“The Prince of Five has come to your rescue, girl,” Fyarn says, picking her up and drawing her trembling body against his chest, his blade glinting at her throat.
Pain lances my heart.
I cannot believe what I see.
My uncle, my mentor these past years—a traitor, a would-be murderer of an innocent girl.
“You,” I spit out. “Let. Her go. Or I shall turn you to dust.”
“I don’t think so, nephew. Your power isn’t what it once was. You are weak.”
Hah! The betrayer knows nothing. In Holly’s presence, my magic increases a thousandfold. I slow my breathing, the pound of my pulse. I must buy time and wait for the perfect opening to make my move.
And Fyarn has always loved to boast.
“It was you all along,” I say softly. “You, who killed my parents. You, who has plotted with the air mage. Your own brother, Fyarn. How could you commit so vile a crime?”
Madness sparking in his eyes, he shifts the grip on his knife, and blood beads on Holly’s throat. One reason to be thankful she remains unconscious. “Yes, I wanted your parents to die because they were weak, Gadriel. Weak. But in the matter of their deaths, I swear I am innocent. I do not know what happened to them.”
Mern spits on the ground and lowers her chin, her horns locked on Fyarn and ready to charge. “But nonetheless, you played a role in orchestrating the peril that befell them.”
Fyarn gives no answer, which is as good as a confession. The desire to blast him to pieces wars with my need to keep Holly safe. Fury boils in my blood, my mind racing, limbs trembling with the urge to attack. A quick death is too good for him.
“Let her go, and I may yet show you mercy. Drop the knife, and move away from her.”
He laughs. “You think me a fool? Why would I surrender now, when I possess the most valuable bargaining piece? The key to everything.”
How does he know the mortal’s safety is critical? That I would kill for her, maim, and terrorize if it would keep her safe?
“You speak in riddles,” I say, lightning curling from my fingertips.
“Do I? Think about the curse, Gadriel. Uniting with your fated mate is said to neutralize the poison in your blood. Look at the power circling your body. At present, you aren’t the weak, brain-addled princeling who set out hunting a little over two sennights ago.”
Unbidden, a bolt of my power strikes the ground in front of his boots, the walls of the maze shuddering with the force. “Enough!”
Fyarn stumbles, pulling the girl tighter against his chest, the knife pricking deeper into her flesh. I use every last bit of my willpower to restrain myself from blowing his head from his shoulders.
How dare he threaten what is mine.
Mine.
Holly is mine, and I will blow the realm apart to prove it if I must.
Waves of heat coil from my eyes as I lower my chin, brace my feet wide against the earth. “You have one last chance to release her,” I growl out.
“And then what? You’ll kill her as well? You cannot strike me without harming her.” He sighs. “Nephew, do you not comprehend who she is? Has your magic not called to her blood? Has her blood not incensed your needs and driven you mad with lust? She is the one, and I will not give her to you. To defeat me, you must forsake her.”
“Your crazed mind unleashes a twisted tongue, Fyarn. It is you who cannot survive, wagering your life on the hope that a prince of Faery holds a human in high regard.”
“The trees have whispered words to me, long ago spoken by the druids, back when Aer wrought the curse from her unbridled fury. There is an end to it. A king who will come in many years’ time. Another foretold girl who is his. Both hold the key to the cure of the Black Blood curse. If you kill this one,” he gives my mortal a shake, “you will fall. The curse will pass to your cousin. Elden doesn’t possess the temperament to rule nor the will to solve the curse’s riddle. And I am not the father who will allow him the chance.”
So, his nefarious plan is revealed, along with his deluded belief that Holly is my fated mate, which is a laughable assumption. It is impossible. A human could never be the Queen of Five.
“But you plan to kill her regardless,” I say, struggling to form words as all five elements build within my chest. My eyes burn, no doubt glowing like liquid silver. “So what does it matter?”
A subtle movement attracts my attention—Holly’s fingers flex then inch toward her boot, her body drooping into the perfect position to draw a weapon from it.
Quickly, I whisper the words to undo the binding in the knife that prevents it from causing harm to me or mine, hoping with every fiber of my being that she manages to reach it. This means, of course, if she wishes to, she can now wield it against me. But she won’t. I trust the mortal with my life.
Mern shifts closer to me, her arm brushing mine. She, too, has noticed that Holly is awake. Lleu circles silently above, waiting for an opportunity to take Fyarn’s eyes from their sockets. We are united and ready.
“Why do you hesitate?” I ask my uncle, balling my hands into knuckle-cracking fists to prevent my body from shaking under the force of the tremendous power building within me.
His mouth opens, brow furrowing, and as he takes a breath, the mortal withdraws the blade from her boot and plunges it through the slit in his chest plate and into his armpit.
Fyarn stumbles, and Holly dives forward out of harm’s way. Shouting, Mern and I blast elemental power from our bodies, aimed at Fyarn. The walls of the maze crumble, flame and wind roaring as they whirl in a lethal maelstrom in the place where my uncle once stood.
I tug Holly and Mern into my arms and throw a shield around us, a large bubble of water, flexible and impenetrable. The world rocks and shudders while I count out Holly’s heartbeats—twenty-seven of them—then I open my mouth, drawing a long breath and the excess elemental energy back inside me.
Exhausted and panting, we drop to the ground and survey the aftermath, still holding each other tightly.
Ash and snow swirl through the air, and Lleu cries as he flies through it, swooping to land at the edge of the deep hole where Fyarn the Betrayer once stood. I am numb to his loss and feel no sorrow or remorse.
Holly scrambles up next to Lleu and stares down the cavity. “He’s gone. Is he dead?”
“Without a doubt,” I respond, sheathing my sword and going to her side. I grip her shoulders and spin her around. Blood and grime streak her face. “Are you all right?”
Surprising me, she smiles. “Yes, no thanks to your uncle. But I’m fine. Fatigued and sore, but I’ll survive.”
“Come,” says Mern. “We must move outside the maze and seal it up, then get Holly to her bed. She looks ready to collapse.”
Watching the mortal struggle to breathe, I must agree with my sister’s assessment. Holly is in dire need of rest, and even so, I wish it were my bed I could whisk her away to. Does that make me the evil faery she once believed me to be?
Outside the maze, I ask permission to kiss Holly briefly and boost my power while Mern watches us with a slack jaw. Then my sister and I join hands and focus on the veil of magic over the forest, shaping it and contracting it until it swallows the ruins of the maze, dragging it under the earth and sealing it up forever.
The entire forest and every living creature within it draws breath, their hearts beating again in their natural rhythms, released from Aer’s spell. Animals scurry through the nearby thicket, owls hoot, and in the distance, I hear the song of a wild elf, giving thanks for her freedom.
The horses snort and whinny as we walk toward them and reward their patience with a feast of carrots from my saddlebag.
“All this time, our uncle hid his true nature.” Mern scowls. “And, worse, neither of us suspected what he was capable of.”
I run my gaze over her face as she mounts Bee. Purple half-moons rim her eyes, and color has leeched from her horns, leaving them the pale shade of dead autumn leaves. Tonight’s efforts have sapped her strength. We must return to the castle in haste.
“Fyarn was likely drawing on another’s power in order to hide his true self,” I say.
“Aer,” growls Mern.
“She was definitely involved,” mutters Holly as I lift her onto Wren’s saddle. “For unknown reasons, she wants me dead.”
“Because she wishes to hurt me,” I respond, adjusting Wren’s bridle. I draw a quick breath as I realize I’ve revealed too much.
Holly clasps my forearms as I mount behind her and tug her tightly against my body. “Aer has disappeared. Will you hunt her down?”
“The air mage cannot be found unless she wishes it,” Mern answers. “She lives as the breeze that tangles our hair, the wind that shakes apples from trees. We’d do better to speak to her sister, Ether. Aer’s time to pay for her misdeeds will come. Perhaps not in our lifetimes, but pay she most certainly will.”
We ride slowly through the twisted trees, foxes and young dryads peering out from the scrub to watch us pass. Holly twists in the saddle and looks up at me. “What did you mean before about Aer wanting me dead to hurt you?”
“She knows I value you.”
Silence prevails for several moments as Holly thinks my meaning through.
“And Fyarn said I was someone or other. Did he mean the witch you thought I was when you found me by the oak?”
“I wonder,” I say, evading the question. “Do not worry yourself with such things. I am most assuredly aware that you are no sorceress come to bring about my kingdom’s downfall.”
“You’re hiding something. If not the witch, then who am I meant to be? Answer me, Gade.”
I heave a sigh. “Fyarn believed you’re my fated one—the girl who can lay the curse to rest.”
Beneath my touch, her muscles tense. “What? That’s impossible.”
“Indeed. He was wrong. A mortal could never wear a crown of Faery.”
“What makes you so certain of that, Brother?” asks Mern.
Instead of answering, I urge Wren into a gallop.
After we dismount, leaving the horses in the care of the stable hands, we walk through the Courtyard of Tears. Holly peers up at the gilded cages hanging from the Tree of Retribution and gasps at the sight of their inhabitants; the four fae who accosted her earlier today, their bodies crammed into them.
Their limbs protrude from the bars at odd angles, slick with a dark substance that she likely guesses correctly to be blood.
She asks no questions nor makes a sound, which worries me greatly. When has she not seized an opportunity to admonish me for my actions?
Steadying her steps, I tuck her arm through mine, wanting to protect her from all who wish her harm, but knowing the biggest risk to her wellbeing at this moment is me.
Let her rest, I tell myself over and over as if I can enchant the wicked thoughts from my mind.
At one of the many back entrances to the castle, Mern bids us goodnight, and Holly turns to me. “Now that we’ve saved each other’s life, the scales are balanced. You owe me nothing. Thank you for coming tonight, Gade.”
“And thank you for helping me kill my uncle, the rotten, conniving betrayer.”
“My pleasure. Anytime you have foe to defeat, don’t hesitate to call upon me.”
Laughter rumbles from my chest. I stroke her cheek—gently, carefully. “You will go home tomorrow, Holly, and you’ll be safe. This I promise you.”
She twines her arms around my neck and pulls me close. “Kiss me,” she whispers against my lips.
Without delay, I comply. Instantly, heat licks through my veins, need roaring to life like a creature of flame inside me. Thankfully, the mortal has more sense than I do and pushes against my chest, breaking our kiss.
“Gade?”
“Yes?”
She looks at the cobblestones around her boots, avoiding my hungry gaze. “What answer would you give if I asked you to show me all that’s possible between a man and a woman?” She watches my jaw drop. “Tonight.”
“To-tonight?” I stammer out. “What… Do you…”
“I am an untouched maid. Human customs demand that I must remain one until I am married. But I will never marry.”
“You will never marry a human,” I correct. “Quickly. Repeat my words. Say them back to me.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no point. It doesn’t mean the same when humans make vows. We break them all the time.”
“And still, I need to hear you speak the words. Promise me you won’t marry a mortal man.”
“Well, I can certainly say the words and promise you they’re true. I have no plans to marry a human and will never do so. There—it’s done. Are you happy?”
“Very,” I answer, the word sounding close to a growl.
“Now, show me to your bedchamber. I’m eager to see it.”
Desire hits me like a hammer to an anvil, my throat so dry I have trouble swallowing. “Are you certain? Swear that you want this.”
“I do. More than anything.”
The skin around her eyes is red. Her limbs tremble. She can hardly stand straight. Grinding my teeth, I tamp down the flames of lust. “But you need rest. You look asleep on your feet. This is not the time for—”
“Our time is now, Gade. There will be no other opportunity. If you promise to catch me, I’ll gladly collapse into your arms. Tell me now, will you do it?”
“Yes. I will always catch you, little human. Wherever and whenever you fall, I will be there to carry you to safety.”
“Holly,” she says as I gather her in my arms. “And that makes seven. So now you must always call me Holly.”
“With pleasure,” I reply. “I’ll call you anything you desire.”
Even my queen.
