“What made you think I’d ever come visit you?” she sneered.
“Desperation,” he said, his dark eyes on her. “You see, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands lately. A lot of time to think.” He looked way too comfortable, lounging against the wall. “You must be seeking a way to get rid of the Prenumbras. You opened a portal behind the waterfall, and I doubt that only one Prenumbra came through.”
Celine swallowed. Tarragon was a warlord. He had been trained to predict other people’s actions, strategies, and to figure out how they thought.
“The only weapon that can kill the Prenumbras is the No-Name sword, but there is only one sword and obviously plenty of Prenumbras. I see your problem.”
He was enjoying this, and a burning rage welled up inside her. The iron knife was heavy in her pocket, but she didn’t dare to draw it. She did not interrupt him either, although he was making her feel stupid and predictable.
“I am the only Fata who went to the Elves’ world and came back alive – except, of course, for Princess Anarvar, whom I rescued. You want to know how I did it?”
She challenged him with her gaze. “Well, are you going to tell me? Or are you going to make me wait in anticipation?”
He laughed bitterly. “You’ve come alone.”
He was taking his time, wasting hers, and playing games. She was not sure if he was trying to scare her. Regardless, she straightened. She could hide her fear. Celine studied him and his surroundings – looking for weakness. In his cell was ink and a quill as well as paper. It must be enchanted because it didn’t crumple or get soaked in the rain. There was also leftover food – banana peels and chicken bones.
Tarragon had not lost a significant amount of weight; he was in good condition, but that did not make sense. From what she understood, prisoners in these cells were forgotten, and no one took care of them. Many of them starved to death. Celine considered that Tybalt hadn’t died and wondered if it was because he was royalty, more powerful than most.
“Who has been taking care of you?” Celine asked.
“You’re such an observant princess,” Tarragon mocked her. “Did you really think all of my followers would simply abandon me because a mortal girl got me dethroned? Some of my closest friends still visit me often – to tell me what is happening in the castle. I know everything as if I was a fly on the wall. I know all of Severin’s plans.”
Celine studied the paper and quill and felt dizzy as realization struck her. “You have been sending me warnings.”
Princess Celine– someone is going to try to kill you.
Princess Celine – he will try to poison you next.
Princess Celine – watch out for the archer.
She could hear his deep, rough voice in her head as he said ‘Princess Celine’ when she entered the cell door. As she considered the wording on her letters, she could hear his voice, too.
“You figured it out.” He clapped his hands together.
“Why?” She gaped at him. “Why help me?”
“Obviously, I don’t want your power to fall into the wrong hands,” he told her.
“Who is trying to kill me?” she asked.
“I thought you would have figured that out by now. Maybe you’re not as intelligent as I thought.” He sighed. She looked at him in silence and waited for an answer. He hesitated before saying, “Severin Silverskin.”
“Why?” she asked.
Tarragon laughed. “Now your questions are just getting stupid.”
“It’s because he fears that I will take back my throne,” she said.
“He was always ambitious,” Tarragon said, “and I knew he wanted the throne. I thought he and I were friends, but the moment I got dethroned, he had locked me away in this Dark House. I have sent him many messages, but he ignores them. He will not come see me.”
Celine glanced at the quill and ink. Bella had told her that Tarragon was good with animals and sometimes used them as messengers. But she would never have thought that Tarragon would help her because he clearly hated her and wanted her dead. Then again, he hadn’t helped her, he just hadn’t wanted Severin to wield her magic. Those assassins had had Egress Keys ready to absorb her power.
If she considered the scraps of food left in his cell it was obvious some of his people did not want him to die. They must be loyal if they brought him food and told him Severin’s secrets.
They were as loyal as the assassins Severin sent. The most recent assassin had given her Tarragon’s name instead of Severin’s, and the lie had earned him a quick death. Dagan had suspected the assassin could be lying, and she should not have killed him. Dagan had been right, and maybe Celine didn’t have the stomach for this brutal, violent life.
“Poor you,” she said.
“Poor you,” he retorted. “You’re missing a tooth.”
“You’re missing personality.”
“I like you better this way.”
She grimaced.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked.
“I felt rebellious and ripped my tooth out – it’s just a phase,” Celine said.
She didn’t want to talk; she wanted him to talk.
He seemed to read her mind when he said, “You need to give information to get information.”
“Fine,” she said. “The ferrymale did not want to give me a ride. I had to make a deal.”
Tarragon laughed bitterly and put his head in his hands. The storm roared, and Celine was aware that she stood in a puddle of rainwater which had blown through the cracks in the walls.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking maybe you aren’t that dumb, human.” It was the first time he called her ‘human’ instead of ‘Princess Celine’ since he found out her identity.
“What?”
“It is shameful for a Fata to lose one of their canines,” he explained. “They never grow back.”
“I am not Fata, nor do I need it,” she said.
“You’re not Fata, but you are magical. Your canine can be used to block your magic.”
Celine wanted to accuse him of lying, but why would he? She almost cursed. She knew better than to make deals with the Fata, yet she had been impatient again and had done it. Would she ever learn? Celine shuddered to think how Dagan and Caynin would react if they saw she was missing a tooth.
“Tell me, human, were you smart enough to negotiate a ride back?”
Celine kept her mouth shut as dismay filled her heart. She had not negotiated a ride back to shore, and if the ferrymale had deserted her, she had no way of returning to shore. It was too far to swim, and the water was rough. Worst of all, her magic did not work here, so she could not open a portal.
Tarragon read her expression. “If he left you, do come back to me. I might help you out.”
“You can’t even help yourself,” she said.
He smiled wickedly, as if he knew something she did not. He studied her with those killer eyes, and she realized her hand was close to her pocket.
“Now, tell me how you beat the Elf Prince?”
Tarragon sighed. “Very well. When I arrived on the Moon World, I wanted the Princess back, and they did not want to give her back. So, I challenged the Elf Prince to a duel. There was no way he would decline as it would be seen as embarrassing and cowardly. Elves believe they are better than us because they are much older and more powerful.”
Elves clearly felt about the Fata the same way the Fata felt about humans. Faeries believed they were better than humans but ate the same food as them. They weren’t sensitive to weather but dressed according to it.
“Anyway, he accepted my duel. Did you know that at the end of a duel, the Elf victor drinks the loser’s blood? They drink the loser dry and thus get high on their magic.”
Celine refused to grimace. She stepped closer to the cell so that she could hear Tarragon over the roaring wind.
“I knew I could not beat him. He was stronger and faster and more powerful. He practically danced circles around me in that arena. So, I poisoned my blade; all I needed was to cut him once. We fought, and when I finally got in a lucky cut, I knew I won. The Elf Prince sank to the ground as the poison instantly worked its way through his bloodstream. He admitted his defeat and shamefully gave me his sword. He then gave me the Princess and safe passage home in exchange for the antidote.”
A moment of silence stretched out after he finished. Tarragon had once told Celine that no one won by fighting fair.
I poisoned my blade – Tarragon was a warlord; what did he know about poisons? Celine thought about the one male who knew everything and anything about poisons, Ulric Longsbrook.
I never much liked the male as he didn’t have any appreciation for me.
That was what Ulric had told her about Tarragon. What if Ulric did not like Tarragon because he had given Tarragon the poison, and Tarragon had never given him any recognition?
“Aren’t you going to applaud me?” Tarragon asked.
“No.” She had got what she came for, and it was time to go. She stepped toward the stairs, but a thought struck her, and she turned around to ask, “Why help me? Why tell me this?”
“You put me in here because you hate me. I understand that. I murdered your parents. Would it make any difference if I told you that your parents were possessed when I killed them?”
“You are lying,” she sneered.
“Killing them was no different than you killing Valeska.”
The Black Illusion flower had made Celine relive her worst fears. She had watched Tarragon murder her parents, and they’d had shadows. He was telling the truth; they had been possessed.
She suddenly felt sick. She looked at her feet and touched her stomach.
“It makes no difference,” she said. “You tried to kill me, and you opened the portal in my room when I was a baby.”
“I did not open that portal. Whoever opened it let the Prenumbras in. They possessed your parents and drained your magic. I arrived and killed your parents because of them. More Prenumbras had come through and I tried to get them back into the portal and close it – I succeeded, but the key broke in the process. Its magic flowed into you and I sent you to the human world, where you would be safe. Where you weren’t supposed to learn that you had magic.”
“Even if that is true, it doesn’t change that fact that you tried to kill me when I returned to the kingdom!”
“I tried to kill you because I thought there was no other way. You didn’t know how to control your power – you could easily have opened another portal, let the Prenumbras in, and have them slaughter us.”
“But I can control it now,” she said.
“Dagan must be a good teacher.” He must have spies everywhere if he knew she was living with Dagan now and not Caynin. “With you able to control your magic, I might not need to fear the destruction of this world. And I did not open the portal in your room.”
“Then who did?” She found the strength to look at him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I was told it was Micks – a servant. It made sense because he and Bella were the only Fata, other than your parents, in your room. He missed his family a lot and wanted to go back for them.”
“Do you believe that?” she wondered.
“No,” he said. “I tortured him, but he did not confess.”
“Do you have any idea who could have done it?”
“No,” he said. “If I knew, they’d be dead already.”
She looked at him with doubt.
“What?” he said. “I loved your parents.”
“You love power more. Once they died, you took the throne.”
“I never wanted the throne. I did not murder them so I could take their place. Killing them was a mercy that broke my heart.”
“You’re lying. You didn’t even try to save them because you wanted to rule.”
“You’re confusing me with power-hungry Prince Dagan.”
“Don’t bring him into this.”
His eyes grew dark, his face serious.
She wouldn’t let anyone talk shit behind Dagan’s back.
“I saved you as a baby,” he said. “I sent you to the human world, hoping you would live a normal life. I could easily have killed you and taken the Egress Key’s magic for myself. But, I chose to save your life out of love and respect for your parents. I thought if I sent you to the human lands your magic would always stay dormant and you would grow old and die. I didn’t think you’d ever become a threat to my kind.”
Celine had nothing to say to that. She did not like or trust Tarragon, but she was beginning to understand him better. Her parents had been possessed, and he had killed them. Valeska had been possessed, and she had killed her. Mercy killings.
“Everything I just told you,” Tarragon said. “It makes no difference, does it?”
Celine turned toward the stairs with the realization that she was as unforgiving as the Fata. She would never like Tarragon and never forget how he had framed Eric for killing Fata. She wouldn’t forget how he had tormented a human girl and tried to drink her blood nor how he had bitten her, in the neck.
“No,” she said and left.
She descended the stairs, and Tarragon did not call her back. He did not beg either, and she did not expect him to because he wasn’t brave enough to swallow his pride.
Celine reached the arch and stepped away from the tower and the cover it provided. The waves splashed against and over the stone circle, and Celine feared the wind would blow her into the merciless water.
The ferrymale had left without her. She cursed and gazed toward the shore, but it was raining too hard for her to see clearly.
This was one of the reasons why Tarragon had not begged. He had anticipated that she would be abandoned and had nowhere to go but back into the tower. Could he really help her get away? It was doubtful he would do anything out of the goodness of his heart. Would she have to make another deal?
Her hands balled into fists at her sides, Celine marched back into the tower. She ascended the wet stairs and slipped once. Calm down. Focus. Falling down the stairs would hurt. She reached the top and went to Tarragon’s cell.
“Back so soon?” He grinned.
She glared at him. “Can you get me to shore?”
He nodded. “I most certainly can.”
She wanted to kick his stupid face, and then she wanted to kick the ferrymale as well. “Fine. What can I tell you in return?”
Tarragon smiled. He was pleased that she knew he wouldn’t do it for free. “I don’t want information.”
“I have nothing else to give you,” she said.
“Turn out your pockets,” he said.
She did as he asked. The only thing in her pockets was the iron knife, and she didn’t expect him to want it, as it was deadly to his kind.
“That will have to do,” he said.
“Seriously?” What could he possibly want with it?
“Push it through the bars,” he said.
“Not until you tell me how I am getting away from the tower,” Celine said.
“Go back downstairs. I will call a ride for you.”
“How?”
“Magic.”
“Magic does not work here.”
He lifted his hand and showed her the ring on it. “One of my men recently brought this to me. It allows me to use my magic.”
Celine smiled. “Maybe I should cut it from your finger.”
If she had the ring, and she could use her magic, she could easily open a door and go home. It would save her the trouble of traveling to shore first.
“I’d like to see you try.” Tarragon smiled.
Celine was too afraid to step into his cell. He was shackled, but she was still too scared to fight him and lose. What if he killed her and took the Egress Key’s magic?
She pushed the knife through the bars, and Tarragon smiled victoriously. “You better not be lying to me.”
“I would never.” He watched her turn around and leave.
Celine hoped he had not betrayed her in some way. She would hate to have to return to his cell. She went downstairs, stepped outside, and walked the circle twice, but no boat came. She had been a fool to give Tarragon her only weapon and to trust him to keep his end of the bargain. He did not know how to get her off the island. Now she had to go back to him, and this time he would surely laugh at her.
As Celine headed toward the arch, she paused when she saw something in the water. First, she saw ears and then, slowly, a horse’s head emerged. It was not a horse but a kelpie.
Tarragon was good with animals, beasts, creatures, monsters. Had he called the kelpie to take her to shore? Celine regarded the violent water and the kelpie that waited for her.
This is crazy.
She drew a deep breath before sprinting to the edge of the stone circle and jumping in. She did not hesitate because that would give her time to talk herself out of it. Her head went under, and she kicked for the surface. As soon as she could, she gulped in air. A wild wave knocked her under again.
Within an instant, the kelpie was by her side, and she had a better opportunity to study it. The creature had a horse’s front body, but its forelegs were fins instead of hooves. He had two fins on each side of his body, a small one by his flank and a bigger one close to his bum. He did not have hind legs; instead, he had a backside like a seal, with a long, finned tail. She reached for him, and he allowed her to grab a hold of his rubbery, slimy fin. He was black as night, and his smooth skin was as cold as death.
“Hi,” she said but the kelpie didn’t answer, and she assumed that, like most magical creatures, he could not speak. But something told her she should not underestimate his intelligence and that he understood her perfectly.
Kelpies were treacherous creatures, known for luring humans to their doom in lakes or the ocean. It was no wonder this was the kind of animal Tarragon had to help him.
As they swam, a school of kelpies appeared and swam with them. Their heads poked out of the ocean, and their manes were like flowing water. They were beautiful, and the stormy conditions did not intimidate them; they seemed to become one with the ocean. They headed directly to shore, but it was very far.
“Are you getting tired?” Celine asked her kelpie as his pace flagged.
She tried her best to kick and swim as fast as she could, but she was still slowing him down and exhausting him. Another kelpie swam next to her, so she reached for him, and he let her take hold of his sleek back. He still had a lot of energy, so they could travel fast again. Celine switched the kelpies, which jumped out of the water, like dolphins, several times until they were close to shore.
“Thank you,” she told them and wished she had a treat or something to give them.
The kelpies did not dare go closer to shore than this because they did not want the waves to wash them out on the beach. Celine let go of her kelpie and started swimming on her own, trying to ignore how tired she was and how much her muscles were aching. She was not fit for swimming.
She feared the brutal current would drag her back into the ocean where she would drown. The water pulled back to form a wave, and she allowed it to take her with it. Then she swam with the wave until she could stand. She fought against the receding water, one step after the other. Then a big wave knocked her off her feet and sent her rolling.
She coughed and reached out to touch the sand. But she did not touch the sand. She touched someone’s foot.