Bittersweet (27 page)

The beast stopped its flaming assault. A noise caught my attention and my gaze swung to the mouth of the cave. The dragon exhaled again, and I leapt aside to dodge a blast of fire. My foot landed on a rock that gave way, throwing me to the side. I fell onto a jagged piece of quartz, tearing the back of my calf. I cried out, but slapped both hands over my mouth.

The dragon turned its massive head toward me. It could smell the blood. Taste my fear. Then abruptly the monster turned and retreated back into the mountain.

I crawled behind a boulder, and drew my leg up under me. My heart pounded. The gash on my leg burned; it was healing, but very slowly. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go. Distraction was a bust. What now? Zanthiel still hadn't returned. His plan was for me to stay put and wait for him. But things weren't going to plan. I had to improvise. I crept around toward the opposite side of the mountain where I knew he'd gone.

A scream tore from the glowing depths. Whether it was from Zanthiel or the beast, I couldn't tell. The cry built to a devastating crescendo. I thought my eardrums would bleed from the decibel level. I couldn't bear it. I pushed onto my hand and knees, forcing back the waves of pain and nausea from my wound. Being this mortal in a world of dangerous immortals was the worst. Pain shot through my leg as I forced myself onto my feet. I had to find him. I had no idea what was going on in that cave, but the sounds pouring out meant one of them was losing. Badly. I had to make sure it wasn't Zanthiel. I pushed forward, climbing to the opening Zanthiel must have crawled through. It was large enough for us to pass through, but only the dragon's head could fit through that space. I took comfort in that fact.

I couldn't see through the smoke and I knew I should have been terrified, but there was something keeping me comfortable and safe. Dark magic invoked chaos and destruction, but it had a sense of calm about it. An inner peace stilled the paralyzing fear and squelched all doubt that we would triumph. It felt free and powerful and intoxicating. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, drugging me with its euphoria. If I didn't know how crazy it sounded, I'd say it almost felt like I was enjoying the sensation. I closed my eyes and pushed back the feeling.

This time, I was ready. I sucked in a breath, opening and closing my hands rapidly.
Fight the darkness with light.
I didn't have to kill it. I only had to incapacitate it. Stop it from killing us.

Another cry rang out and this time I was sure it had come from Zanthiel. I scrambled into the cave just as Zanthiel was rushing out. He was wounded, bleeding from more places than I could count. The moment his eyes lit on me, he scowled.

“What are you doing in here?” He ground. “I told you to wait outside.”

“You needed my help,” I said, limping forward.

“No time to argue your stubbornness, we have to get out of here. Now.”

He grabbed my hand as he brushed past me. We'd almost made it out of the cave when a blast of fire barreled toward us.

“Jump,” he hollered. And I did, but not far or fast enough. The fire singed my fingers and I let go, tumbling to the rocky cliff several feet below me. My body hit with a thud that knocked the wind from my lungs.

Zanthiel landed on his feet next to me and helped me to stand. The dragon stalked toward us. His body crashed through the mountainside, decimating the passageway we'd used. It gaped wide open with nothing between us and it.

Zanthiel stepped in front of me, but I pushed him aside.

Another ball of fire shot at us. I countered it was a blast of ice, and this time when the water rained down on us, I used a spell, one I'd learn to manipulate weather.

“
Incantre illiaris venti
.” It started as a gentle breeze, but whipped into a gale force wind in seconds, sending the spray of water directly into the dragon's mouth. The flames extinguished with a deafening hiss, engulfing us in smoke and steam.

Zanthiel grabbed my arm. “Come on. We need to leave this place now.”

Despite the intolerable pain, I ran and kept running until we finally reached the base of the mountain, and the place where we'd entered the Fire Islands.

“Ready?” he looked at me. His eyes tightened when he saw the blood still oozing from the gash on my leg.

“I'll be fine. Let's go.”

Zanthiel stared at me with silver conflicted eyes. “The elf was right in one thing. You do lack even the most basic acquaintance with self-preservation,” he muttered. “Do you realize how difficult that makes you to protect?”

“Yes, well I'm the one protecting you this time. Get over it,” I sputtered.

And with the next heartbeat we were back in Faery.

Breathless and in agony, I fell to the ground, fighting to remain conscious.

 

 

I didn't need a map to know we'd landed in the Winter Court. The soul-numbing temperature more than gave it away. Pain. Carnage. Torture. They were pretty much the norm in this court. Crystalline hoarfrost coated every dead branch and fallen tree as we approached the Winter palace.

Zanthiel dismounted his stallion and turned to me.

“We can still end this madness, Lorelei. It is not too late. And I do not think sharing the idea the wizard suggested with the Queen of Air and Darkness is such a wise decision. She will destroy us both where we stand.”

“Zanthiel, we need her crown and she's your mother. I doubt—” I stopped talking. Parenthood was no guarantee of anything in this realm. They were ready and willing to take a life of a child they'd produced, if it suited them. “Fine. We'll keep it to ourselves unless it becomes absolutely necessary. Agreed?”

He frowned in response, which I took for as close to an agreement as I would get on this subject.

Two guards with glistening black feathered wings approached us as we were about to cross the moat— a toxic mix of flesh eating plants and acid waters.

They bowed their heads to Zanthiel, then eyed me curiously.

“Your queen awaits, my lord.”

Zanthiel stiffened next to me, but he gestured for me to follow him into the castle. Branches loomed over us as we walked, their frosty limbs tangling grotesquely. I'd forgotten how cold and dead it was here. When we reached the gates, the drawbridge lowered. Trumpets blared to announce our arrival.

I looked over at Zanthiel, but he didn't elaborate. It wasn't until we set foot inside and the guards of the Winter Court surrounded us, did I understand that the fanfare had not been a welcome, but rather a warning.

We were corralled into the throne room, where Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness, sat poised on her throne of skulls and shadows.

Her posture was board straight, and the crown balanced on her flaxen hair braided into an intricate style, like spun gold.

Molten fury rolled from Zanthiel. He was on guard, every muscle coiled in a heightened state of alert, cautious and wary of his mother's every move. I wasn't accustomed to seeing him like this. He was powerful, and terrifying beyond measure. It had always been his choice—would I sing, could I perform—for as long as I could remember. He decided to come to me when I called, and even when I didn't. Now I watched in horror and disbelief, as Zanthiel, the one faerie who'd had a choke hold on so many aspects of my life, risked it all in front of his mother.

Queen Mab's demeanor was that of an impending hurricane.

“How could you break the rules, sharing your pure blood with a human half-breed? You, a royal heir, kissed this insipid halfling?”

A spiny hunched creature squatting next to the queen began to snort. “'Tis not so much he's blood they mixed, my queen, but they's spittle.”

The queen reached for her staff and without even a glance at the creature, she struck him with it square against the creature's neck. I heard a grotesque crunch as the cut severed his head from his body. Both pieces of his body fell to the ground, landing like solid rock. It took a few beats to realize his body had been frozen solid from the strike. Two guards rushed forward to clean up the mess, while the Queen of Air and Darkness went on as though nothing had happened.

I felt numb, from cold or fear… I wasn't sure. Winds howled, mingling their pain with my own. The guards dumped the creature's body in the corner. Decaying vines writhed across the dead limbs like living things. They strangled the creature's remains, piercing it with their thorns to feed on it. They slithered back across the floor, careful to avoid any contact with me, almost as though the forest itself sensed the dark power surging within me.

The queen didn't take her eyes off her son. “I expect an explanation for your behavior.” Her voice was cold as though she hadn't just beheaded a living breathing being in front of us… as if it was something she did all the time.

Even the brittle tree branches trembled at her voice, shaking frost from their limbs like powdered sugar.

The queen threw a revolted glance in my direction. “If you were bored, you should have found a selkie to amuse yourself with. Or another suitable plaything.”

“She is not now, nor has she ever been, a plaything to me,” Zanthiel spoke with measured disdain. He stood with his legs astride, his hands remained clasped behind his back, but every so often his fingers twitched as though itching to reach for his sword.

My anger escalated in direct proportion to his. I raised my hands as a fury ignited something feral deep inside of me. Prepared to direct the full blast at her if necessary, I let it build in strength, pulling in more and more darkness for it to feed on.

“She is only half human, and she would have died,” Zanthiel said firmly. His hands clenched at his sides, his lips set in a determined line. “I could not watch her soul fade away and do nothing.”

The queen's face twisted in a grimace. “Now look what your misplaced sympathies have unleashed. A belligerent hormonal half-fey, half-witch, capable of destroying us all in a tantrum.” She cursed, sweeping her arm through the cold. “Better she had died than become this abomination.”

I lowered my hands, feeling the magic recede deep into my veins. Unable to access the very thing that frightened them all. Abomination. Was that what I was becoming? What I was?

“You willfully trust her with our secrets… and even more foolishly, your heart. Running to her side whenever she calls to you, like a whelp? It is madness. You will not continue to make a mockery of this court. I forbid it.”

“I do not trust her, Mother,” he said slowly.

For the first time his wintry gaze met mine and I was suddenly aware of the cold. Goosebumps prickled my arms and an involuntary shiver sliced through me as I heard what he left unsaid.

Not while she is still in love with the elf.

I looked away.

“But as for going to her— in that, I have never had a choice.”

The queen shot a malicious glare in my direction. She twirled around, sweeping her living cape across the snow. “Then it should please you both to know that the elf prince is dead.”

Everyone stood rooted in place as the queen's cold eyes roamed over us like trained monkeys in her personal zoo. Amused disinterest, until her gaze landed on me and the way Zanthiel stood protectively at my side.

She no longer looked amused. The humans at her feet continued their worshiping, until with a cavalier flick of her hand she waved them off. Guards rushed in to drag them away. One man, desperate for a last touch of her power, managed to kiss her foot, before she kicked it straight into his face and sent him reeling backward in pain. He was taken in a separate direction than the others. I had no doubt it would be his last insubordinate act of love.

With a shudder, I turned my attention to her majesty, the next wicked being to order my decapitation. Only this time, it was different. I was different. Perhaps it was my experience from last time, defeating
Octãhvia
, ending the war. Or perhaps it was in part due to her powerful magic swing and intermingling with my own, but I wasn't afraid for myself this time. I was afraid for Zanthiel.

“Hmmm. Nothing? You haven't a thing to say upon hearing news of the elf's death? I thought perhaps it would further motivate you to abandon your cause. To give up my son before you destroy him the way you destroy everything you touch.”

“I'm not forcing your son to stay with me,” I spoke loudly to hide the quiver in my voice.

“And yet he stays. Why do you think that is?” She didn't give me time to answer. “He knows your loss will result in great pain and he wishes to comfort you in your sorrow.” She cast a disgusted look in Zanthiel's direction. “Fool that he is.”

She's lying. I know she's lying. She's just trying to get me to react. To run.
If Adrius were dead, I'd know. I'd feel it. I looked at the queen and took a breath. “Your majesty, I understand your concern over your son's allegiance to me. But I promise you I have no intention of using either my power or my position to harm anyone. My intention is only to serve.” Then remembering Hawthrin's words, I bowed my head.

“You may rise,” she said. When I looked up she was still glaring at me, clearly seeing straight through my words. Let's face it, even politicians did a better job being convincing of their honorable intentions. My intentions were honorable. They just weren't aligned with hers.

“There is far too much ill will and hidden secrets in court today. If neither of you will give me the truth willingly, I shall extract it from you.”

Mab waved her hand over the top of her staff and whispered. A wall of shadow grew between Zanthiel and me, separating him from his mother, and trapping me with her. Voices surrounded me, dark whispers caressing my ears, tugging at my mind, holding me in place by nothing but smoke and shadows. I listened to their soft whispers. Enticing, seducing… reaching into the dark corners of my mind.

“Do you feel that?” Mab asked. “It's the energy of what lives within you. Inside your soul. You are stained with this same darkness and it will find the information I need from if you refuse to give it freely.”

Fear and humiliation hummed in my bones. “What makes you think I won't fight back? I could torch this room with you in it,” I said forcing my voice to remain steady.

She smiled. “I do believe that you could, but not that you would. For you know it would mean war. The very thing you are destined to prevent, if prophecy is of any truth.” She paced two steps then turned back to me. “Of course, you are your father's daughter, a move toward violence is in your nature. The Shadow Court lusts for little more than bloodshed.” Her shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. “Let it rain down among the fey, and we shall see who will remain standing at the end. If you move to strike against me, I guarantee, it will not be you.”

She shoved me deeper into the whispers. Shadows held me fast, tethering me to their invisible hold.

I stared at the dark energy swirling around me. I could feel it pulling me under. Taking my mind to places I dared not go.

Adrius. It was his face I pictured. His memory I was clinging to. It was all wrong. I knew that betrayal could get me killed. But then Zanthiel was there, filling my mind with his cold power. My heart hammered too quickly in my chest.

The queen nodded. “You want all of it. Such greed. Humph. I knew that you would. I used to wonder what kept my son returning to your side time and time again. I see it so clearly now. Your lust for darkness draws you to him. And it was that same depraved yearning that lured him to you.”

Through the smoke, Zanthiel was working to break through the shadows. It was impossible of course, but he continued to try with torches, his sword. He hurled a wooden chair at the black ethers, and it splintered, falling to the floor like matchsticks.

I shifted back to the queen and shook my head. “You're wrong.” I steeled my mind, but the whispers grew louder. More insistent. More alluring. “I don't want—”

“Yes. I know exactly what it is that you want. You can lie with your words, to me. To my son. But you cannot lie with your heart. And I see all that you desire. It is so much more than I would have believed you capable of.”

I fell deeper into the shadows. Voices filled me, speaking words I couldn't bear to hear. Words Adrius would whisper. In his own voice. I shut my eyes, but only briefly as terror overwhelmed me. I was drowning in whispers from the past, as Mab extracted my secrets one by one.

“Blood. Lust. Power. Revenge. You still pine for the Elf Lord. But want Zanthiel too,” she said with disgust. “If my son would ever forgive the act, I would take this moment to end you. Rid my world of your presence.”

I strained to speak. “He wouldn't forgive you.”

She shook her head ruefully. “He'd likely unleash war upon me. That is the destructive level of devotion you inspire.” She waved her staff and the shadows receded back into the floor.

I was released from her mental prison. Beads of sweat formed on the nape of my neck and froze before they could roll. I couldn't stop myself from shaking. All I wanted to do was strike back. And yet I couldn't. How had this woman become so filled with malice?

Mab smiled, picking up on my unguarded thought. “You will quickly learn, dear, you can be a good queen and a good ruler. Or you can be a good person. You cannot be both. They are diametrically opposed. A life for a life. Prove your alliance to my court, and you will have my crown. Fail… Zanthiel will die. And you will lose one half of what keeps your heart alive.”

Zanthiel marched at his mother, but she pointed her staff at my chest.

He stopped.

“This is not a girl you can save. The shadows have been revealing. Her heart is cradled by someone else. Your enemy.
Our
enemy. Have you forgotten?”

“I know who she is. In ways you never will.” Her brows arched.

“So you are intimately entwined. I see. Perhaps the kiss you bestowed served as more than a restoration of her memory. You could have taken her then. Why didn't you?” She searched her son's eyes and then her mouth drew tight. “I see. If you could have done so, you would have. But her will is stronger than you anticipated. As is her heart.”

Her gaze cut to me. “You are full of surprises, aren't you? Still, my son refused to leave your side. Further motivation is required, I see. Since I cannot have you be responsible for destroying my son's life. I shall do it first.” She turned to the guard closest to her. “Lock up the prince and make ready the executioner in a public forum. Make sure the whelp is there. I want her to watch what her choices have brought to pass. At dawn my son shall be executed.”