Skye
The flat of my heel slipped on the slick, mildew-covered stones, and my knee buckled as I stumbled forward on the treacherous steps leading to the dungeon. Righting myself, I gathered my skirts in my fist and leaned against the wall for added stability as I continued down, down, down. A shiver danced its way up my spine. The farther I descended, the cooler the underground air became until goosebumps covered my arms.
An indiscernible noise halted my progress and my breath caught in my chest. Was I followed?
I’d waited for what seemed like hours before I worked up the nerve to leave my chambers. Convincing Thomas and Barda, who’d relieved Burton and Winters from their post outside my door, and who weren’t pushovers, to allow me to leave my bedchamber unattended was the trickiest part. After that, wandering the castle was ridiculously easy, considering the danger Tabor posed to us all. No one dared challenge their Queen’s right to walk without protection, for fear of dismissal. I expected someone to chase after me at any moment. I lowered the lantern I carried to the folds of my skirts, hiding the glow as a second noise echoed through the dark stairwell. After minutes went by without another sound, I continued.
I did not raise my lantern again until I reached the bottom of the stairwell. The single candle cast a flickering glow across the damp walls. On solid ground, I dropped my skirts and turned left, moving deeper into the corridor and reciting the directions given to me as I went. My fingertips brushed along the curved stone wall of the castle as I followed the bend. My breaths quickened, echoing in the enclosed space, when I rounded the corner and faced a wall with a massive plank door in the center.
“He has no power,” I spoke out loud, taking a deep, calming breath and reconsidering my plan. “He has no power, and you need answers.” The affirmations bolstered my confidence.
Yesterday, while waiting for Xander and Mother to wake, I’d decided I needed to question McClintock myself. Cillian was off in search of Amandalyn, and Nickoli had ridden into Ridgecrest to make inquiries, and there I was sitting in my room, a crown upon my head that I didn’t deserve, helpless to do anything. Resolute in my need to be useful, I’d planned. My conversation with Xander and Nickoli in my room only hours ago confirmed that resolve.
I assessed the doorway and removed the heavy skeleton key dangling from a string around my wrist. Stepping forward, the key slid in and my fingers trembled as the lock clicked free. My body tensed. My dagger was the only weapon I had to fend off an attack, and it was tucked in the waist of my gown. I checked over my shoulder, there was no one. Maybe I should have bribed a guard for back up? I bit my lip and chastised myself. The only person down here is behind bars.
My muscles loosened as wood scraped stone floor and the door swung open. The bolts anchoring the wood released a reproachful groan, and I stilled, expecting the noise to summon an army of guards into the dungeon after me.
No one showed and no bad guys attacked, so I moved forward, careful not to allow the door to close as I stepped into the next room. The stillness here was unnerving. The only sound beside my rapidly beating heart was the hollow echo of water droplets from somewhere above.
The guard I’d questioned explained the layout of this portion of the dungeon thoroughly. It was a square room with five cells along the wall in front of me. The three middle wooden doors contained peepholes at eye level for a man of average height. They were made so the on-duty guard could slide a slat covering the peephole open or closed to monitor the prisoner on the other side. My stomach turned as I pictured prisoners being held inside these dank cells with nothing except darkness and solitude as companions. In contrast, the two cells on each end contained iron cross bars as doors. Those two offered no privacy, which allowed guards the ability to watch the prisoner twenty-four-seven as was custom. No guard was stationed in this room at present. A slip-up that was part of my carefully crafted plan.
Moving farther into the room, I approached the cell to the extreme right where I was told he was being held. The lantern clutched in my fist cast shadows across a prone form resting on a pallet along the back wall. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I peered into the cell, making out the general shape of his features. A long limb hung down onto the floor, the lump of a body in the center of the cot, and a smaller lump—his head?—was nestled close against the exterior wall. A high-pitched twittering startled me as beady red eyes flashed in the candlelight and a rat crossed my path. I slapped my palm over my mouth as the creature made his getaway beneath the crack of the cell door nearest him.
A cackle forced my attention back to the cell, to the prisoner I’d come to see. Glimpses of dirty rags and flesh appeared in flickers of light as he moved amongst his bedding.
“The accommodations leave much to be desired, Your Majesty.” McClintock’s voice was like sandpaper, as he roused from his position and moved to the edge of his cot. The glow of the candle highlighted the way his formerly silky hair fell in limp strings around his face. “What brings you here alone?”
I ignored his patronizing tone and hung the lantern from a hook outside his cell. “I want answers.”
A resonant rattle shook his chest. The damp air hadn’t been friendly to him. “My dear, why are you here doing the work of your Guardian soldiers?”
“Why did you attack Montibello? Why did you kill my father and hide my mother away?” I countered.
The shadows hid any reaction he might have had, but his gruff laughter told me what he thought of my questions.
The laugh morphed into a hacking cough. “I had hoped you were here to discuss more relevant things,” he said once he regained his voice.
My stomach twisted. “Oh, please enlighten me, what could be more relevant? Should I ask about Tabor? Your counselor, the man who attacked me, threatened to kill those I love, and kidnapped Manda? Would that be a more interesting conversation for you?”
Much like the rat, McClintock’s black pupils caught the light of the lantern as his gaze swept over me. I shook off the sensation of spiders skittering across my skin at his gaze.
“You remind me of your mother at your age. I imagine she told you our story by now. How she was meant to marry me?”
He’s playing games. I clenched my fists and circled back to my initial question. “Is that why you attacked my family? For revenge? Out of jealousy?” His teeth flashed and I reached for the lantern in a feigned attempt to leave. “I assume that is a yes.”
His hissed groan stilled my hand as he stood. “I loved her. I loved your mother, and she ran off, to him, never to return home.”
My arm fell to my side and I inched closer. The stench of urine burned my nose as we closed the gap between us. “So you planned your revenge? Became a murderer because a woman left you? A bit desperate, were you?”
“Are you your mother’s daughter in that regard, too?” he asked, paying no heed to my barbs. “Have you led my son on?”
Heat burned a path up my neck. His mention of Nickoli threw me off.
Misdirection and manipulation. That’s all he has on his side.
“I am not here to answer your questions. You are no longer a threat to me, or my family. I want information. If you will not provide it, I see no need to keep you around.”
McClintock shuffled closer still. His eyes shone in the candlelight displaying their true color—a leafy green like his son’s. “If you want information you will allow me to speak with Kerra.”
My head shook automatically. “Not happening.” Nikolai and Xander were adamant about that; her safety was one of the few things they agreed on.
His eyes grew wide as his attention settled beyond my shoulder. “Your mother or nothing, Your Majesty.”
I shouldn’t have needed to turn around, not with the fireworks exploding in my stomach, but my focus was on McClintock and I’d missed the signs. Xander had snuck up on us, his movements stealthy as always. He’d probably followed me the moment I stepped into the dungeon stairwell.
He’d propped his tall, lean body against the doorframe. “I would be happy to take the choice of nothing and end your life right here and now.” Disdain dripped from his words.
A movement in the shadows by his thigh revealed the blade of his sword, and my heart leapt at his deadly gaze. He wore the look of a man bent on revenge. One of fury as he finally stared down the man responsible for the death of his parents.
“Tell the Queen what she wants to know and live to see another day.” Except for the narrowed eyes he kept on McClintock, Xander’s face was void of emotion.
“So, the Guardian lives?” McClintock’s tone displayed his blatant disregard of Xander’s hatred and strength.
“Despite your attempts to the contrary.”
“How wrong you have it.”
Xander choked back a laugh. “You’re sticking to your story, then? Tabor is the villain? What does that make you? The mind-controlled weakling used to take the fall?”
McClintock expelled a breath, his bravado shaken perhaps by the jab? Xander pushed off the doorframe and I pressed closer to the outer wall as his sword sliced through the air. The whistle of his blade mocked our prisoner.
Xander’s grin grew wickedly dirty and my stomach flipped. His pleasure at seeing McClintock behind bars was easy to read. “Tell me, how powerful do you feel now? Trapped behind those bars? How does it feel knowing you will live out the rest of your hopefully short, deplorable life in the dungeon of the castle you once coveted?”
The two men glared at one another, each using the moment as a power play. Who would bend first? McClintock might be behind a locked door, but I would not underestimate him. He’d caused too much damage to assume he’d slink away with his tail between his legs.
With Amandalyn and Tabor at the forefront of my thoughts, I threw a glance at Xander. “We don’t have time for this.”
I shifted and blocked Xander’s path to McClintock. “Where would Tabor take Manda? If you ever cared for her, or your son, you would help us find her.”
“You want relevant information, Queen Mercier?”
“Please.” I hated the supplication in my tone.
McClintock leaned in and I mirrored his movement drawing closer, hoping for a clue to end this all. Xander spoke my name a moment too late as I failed to maintain a safe distance and McClintock seized the opportunity, his hand snatching at my loose hair. I grimaced as he reeled me in—an animal caught in a trap—until my cheek smashed against the cold iron of his cell door.
“Unhand her now.” Xander’s warm fingers gripped my arm, his sword at the ready.
My eyes held Xander’s in a silent plea—asking him to refrain from thrusting his weapon into McClintock’s gut before I heard what he would say.
My skin crawled at the heat of McClintock’s breath as he pressed his lips into the hair above my ear. “Ask your mother about the infant she lost.”
My head swam.
I’d barely considered his directive before he released me and I fell back. Xander’s arm slid around my waist, steadying me against his chest as I stumbled on the uneven cobblestones.
“Ask her and she will come see me. Perhaps then you will have your answers.” His voice was stronger as he slinked back into the shadows of his cell once again.
“And if she chooses not to see you?” Xander’s hand splayed across my waist and pulled me firmly against him.
“Oh, she will.” McClintock lowered to the cot with another hacking cough. “She most certainly will want to speak with me.”
Xander sheathed his sword. “Come on, he isn’t going to be of any help tonight.” He tugged at my waist and removed the lantern from the wall hook.
I followed him thoughtlessly, my mind a sea of confusion as I glanced over my shoulder into the dark cell holding McClintock one last time.
“Let’s go.” Xander urged brusquely, ferrying me into the corridor and out of the cell room.
My lungs rejoiced the fresh air, sucking in great gulps as Xander relocked the cellblock and pocketed the key.
Xander’s large hand seized mine and pulled me along as McClintock’s mocking voice chased us down the corridor. “Sleep well, my dear.”
The entire conversation replayed as we climbed the steep staircase, my gaze pinned on Xander’s broad shoulders. He slowed when my toes slipped again and again on the steep climb. My mind too preoccupied with watching and waiting for his anger to explode to pay attention to my feet. His outburst didn’t take long. We stepped out of the dungeon stairwell and Xander opened the first door he found. Ushering me inside, he set my lantern on a stack of crates near the door before he rounded on me.
“You’re kidding, right?” His eyes were dark with anger as he snatched me into his arms and squeezed me so tightly he threatened my air supply. Then he abruptly pushed me away.
“What were you thinking heading to the dungeon by yourself?” His trembling fingers grasped my chin. He tilted my face from side to side as he examined where my cheek had pressed against the bars.
“I wanted answers,” I offered feebly as I suffered through his examination. His fingertips bruised me more than the bars—not that I would tell him that—as he cursed and probed my cheekbone needlessly.
“You’re fine, no damage.”
“I could have told you that if you’d asked first.” I shoved his hand away.
He reached for me again and his fingertips skimmed the full sleeve of my gown when I ducked out of his grasp and tripped over the crates at my feet.
“Skye, I can’t do my job if I have to keep worrying about you. Would you please stop trying to do things on your own?”
“Your job? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was hindering your job. I want to find Manda. McClintock made it clear when I first arrived here that he wanted to talk with me. He begged me to meet with him several times. I thought he might talk if I went to see him now.”
Xander’s exasperated sigh set my teeth to grinding. “First, you know you can’t trust the man. We don’t yet understand his full involvement with Tabor. You can’t forget who we’re dealing with. He is the man who killed your father.”
I swallowed hard. “I know that.”
“Second, you do realize what my job is, don’t you?” My mouth opened and he held his hand up before I could speak.
“Say it.” His anger was gone.
I stared at his face as it softened, not sure what answer I was supposed to give him. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand to brush across my face once again. His fingertip traced the markings only those born with magic could see along my cheek and jawline. The tender graze brought the swirls to life and sent a thrill through my skin.
“Say what?” I asked on shaky breath.
He raised his brows.
“It’s me,” I conceded. “Your job is keeping me safe.”
The candlelight from the lantern sputtered, sending flickers of light across the tiniest of smiles playing on Xander’s lips. “No, a Guardian’s job is to keep you safe. My job is to protect you. There’s a difference.”
Semantics.
“Well, it is my job to protect Manda and everyone else in this kingdom. I can’t protect anyone if I have to ask your permission before making every decision,” I argued.
I was acting absurdly defiant and his narrowed eyes told me he agreed. I’m the Queen, for goodness’ sake. I tamped down the urge to stomp my foot.
“I’m not requesting you ask my permission. I’m asking you to include me. We can do this together, you know,” Xander said with quiet conviction.
I studied his beloved face that only hours earlier had come to me after he’d watched Nickoli kiss me. He didn’t rage at me then, nor did he express anything more than sad regret when I called Nickoli by a familiar nickname. No, he’d shown me the markings on my face. He pledged his love for me, as he always did, while he explained how we were soulmates. He fell asleep beside me, then begged me to remain in my room—all so he wouldn’t have to worry about me. And what did I do? I went off in secret the moment he left my sight. He was right, not only could we do this together, but we had to do this together.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
His gaze touched on every inch of my face like he was searching for something. My sincerity, maybe? When he lingered on my mouth, I nervously drew my lower lip between my teeth. His own lips parted and his chest filled the small space between us as he inhaled deeply before his focus returned to my eyes.
“I’m not trying to be right, Skye, but thank you for admitting it. Now, let’s go chat with your guards,” he added with a frown.
My heart sped up. “Oh, no you don’t.” I matched his frown with one of my own. “They are guarding my room as I asked them to do. And you will say nothing to them.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so”—I lifted my chin in defiance—“Now, escort me to my room before someone catches us lurking in the dark.”
Xander tossed his head back and laughed, making it abundantly clear to me that being caught was the least of his concerns. My hand closed on the doorknob behind his back and he shifted. Planting his feet shoulder width apart in front of me, he crossed his arms over his chest. A human wall blocking my way, until he had his say.
“Promise me you’ll stay away from McClintock.”
“I can’t do that. We need answers,” I said truthfully.
He pressed forward, his chest maddeningly close to mine. “Do you realize how much danger you’re in here? Tabor can come and go as he pleases. Until we set wards around the castle, we’re vulnerable to his magic. You must stay with your guards at all times. I need you to listen to me.”
The truth didn’t faze me. “Let him come. I have a dagger with his name on it.”
“A dagger with his name on it? My little princess has turned into an assassin, huh?”
My bravado slipped. “Your little princess is now the Queen, and the Queen has a responsibility.”
“Skye, stop telling me about your responsibilities and listen to me.”
“No.” I shoved him sideways and twisted the door handle, ready to leave.
Xander’s palm slapped the door over my head, holding it shut as he twisted us around until my back was pressed against the exit. Anger flashed in his eyes as he towered over me.
“Stop being stubborn. What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me?” Angry tears pricked my eyes as I shoved at his chest. “These people—Tabor, McClintock, and whoever else is working with them—killed my father, imprisoned my mother, and forced me from my home as an infant. They murdered your parents and terrorized me.” My shouts echoed off the walls in the small storage room and I clapped a hand over my mouth, horrified. My anger morphed into pain, my throat closing as I continued naming my grievances.
“I thought you were dead.” My palms slapped at his hard chest again as the words ripped from my lungs. “He attacked me and attempted to kill you. I want him to pay. I want him dead. I will not stop until he is.”
I spoke those last words with a sense of finality I’d never known. My vehemence shocked me. I was no longer Skye, the orphan with no home, no future. I was a Queen, the leader of a kingdom, a woman bent on justice. And revenge.
Xander’s hand fell from the door and drew me near. “He will pay, I promise you. I’m sorry it took me so long to return to you. I wish I could have sent word, but—” He cut himself short.
His hands swept over my back and pressed me closer. “You’re shaking.”
Savoring his embrace, I hide my face against his chest. “I’m fine.”
“I’m not.” There was reluctance in his admission.
“Why?”
Sliding a hand to my face, he tipped my chin. His fingers lingered along the curves of my jaw before he cupped the back of my neck. “Your new attitude terrifies me. I adore this newfound independence and bravery, but I’m scared you’re going to do something stupid. Don’t frown at me,” he scoffed when I did just that, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Skye, not again. No more running away or sneaking off on your own missions.”
“I’m not as tough as I seem. I have nightmares all the time and I hate being alone at night. I’m waiting for the moment when I’ll wake and find someone standing over my bed.”
His grip tightened on the back of my neck as he dipped his forehead so close we nearly touched.
“I won’t let that happen.” He made the promise as though he could guarantee my safety. No one could guarantee it. I pushed him to see the truth.
“You think guards outside my door will stop him?”
Xander’s eyes closed as he muttered a sharp curse. He had to know I spoke the truth. I was rarely allowed to see this much of his vulnerability. His face was tired. He was frustrated. The entire castle was frustrated with our predicament. He was right, though. Until wards were set around Montibello, Tabor could step through a portal and into this castle at any time. That he hadn’t yet was a miracle.
Or a skillful move in a well-thought out game of life and death.