Skye
“Are you two tag teaming?” I called over my shoulder as Thomas’s boots echoed behind me when I exited the great hall. His steps were heavier and more pronounced than Barda’s, making it easy to distinguish between my two bodyguards.
“Milady?”
I stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned on the man. “Barda trailed me on my walk outside this afternoon. You follow me now. Have you chosen shifts? Because if you have, I’d say you lucked out. The outdoor duties are vastly more difficult and uncomfortable than shadowing me around a fortified castle.”
Thomas’s fierce brows knit together, but he could not hide the way his lips tugged up at the corners. “We share the honor of guarding you, Your Majesty, and on most days we will both be at your side. I had a message to deliver for you this afternoon, that is why Barda escorted you on your walk to the graveyard.”
Ahh, my message. “Did you eat? You were not at my table, nor did I see you at the other one.”
The bridge of his nose wrinkled as his mouth twitched again. Did I amuse him? Maybe I imagined the movement—the man rarely wore a smile.
“My job is watching over you, milady. I eat when I am not on duty.”
I tossed my hands in the air. “Very well, but if you are to go everywhere I go, at least walk with me, not behind me.”
He drew his shoulders up. “My Queen, I am sworn to protect you to my death. If you do not—”
“Can you not protect me at my side?” I slid closer as two maids turned into the corridor and moved our way. “I have found since coming here that I do not like having shadows follow me about.”
Again, those dark brows connected between his eyes. “We are not your equal, milady.”
“Not my equal?” I scoffed. “I was born with this title, Thomas. I have done nothing to earn the deference you show. I would rather have you as an honest friend than force you into submission.”
The sounds from the great hall grew behind us. Supper would end soon. I fisted my skirts and resumed walking, determined to see Mother and the fae before Xander interrupted us.
That fact that Xander didn’t argue or follow me when I left the table was surprising. The entire room went quiet when I made my power statement. A pin drop could have been heard. I smiled at the mental picture I’d taken of their faces. Yes, a lady can be deadly. Do not underestimate me. My warning was clear.
Chair legs scraped against floors and I hurried my steps. Thomas could walk beside me, behind me, or not at all for all I cared. He chose to fall into step at my side, not as close as Xander or Nickoli tended to walk, but closer than most of the guards dared.
“You are mistaken,” he said after a moment. I gave him a sideways glance as we ascended the stairs toward my parents’ former chambers. “You have earned the respect of many in the short time since your arrival at Montibello. You have shown yourself to be a fair, kindhearted leader.”
My toe slipped on the next step and his fingers gripped my elbow, holding me steady. What had I done to earn anything from the people of Tyalbrook?
“The children,” Thomas said as though he’d read my mind. “That you have taken the orphans under your protection means a great deal to many here. Many of us grew up without family.”
Cillian and Emeline, Xander—the siege of Father’s kingdom cost them their families. It cost me mine. I never considered those in Tyalbrook who’d suffered the same fate, the parentless children, until I arrived at the castle and saw them with my own eyes.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, I studied Thomas. His was a handsome face with dark, chiseled features like Xander and Rioden’s. Before now he’d seemed unapproachable, his eyes overshadowed by heavy lids and thick brows, but he hid a soft mouth beneath the scruff covering his jaw when he wasn’t scowling. The ladies in the village must love him.
“Your scar, how did you get it?”
He scrunched his forehead, wrinkling the crescent-shaped dent which ran from the top of his right eye, across his forehead, and into his hairline. His eyes darkened. “My mother worked as a scullery maid in your parents’ household. She was killed in the days following the siege.”
I held my turning stomach. “I was under the impression the staff were spared in the attack.”
“Many were.” He looked to the floor. “She died protecting me.”
“You were here at the castle? You were only a child.” I couldn’t fathom those moments for him. He was older than me by several years, maybe six or seven. Why would someone want to kill a child under the age of ten? Unless…
“Are you of Guardian blood?” I whispered.
His face paled.
“No one knows?” I verified we were alone and dropped my voice. “How?”
His gaze held mine with a sort of plea in his eyes, but he spoke anyway. “My mother’s bloodline. They were Guardians of—”
Thomas’ words died on his lips, his mouth opening then closing without a sound, as his eyes grew wide and focused behind me. I spun on my toes and discovered one of the most beautiful beings I’d ever seen standing before me.
“Your Majesty.” The honeyed voice of the fae made my eyes long to flutter closed. “We meet at last. I am Violette, of The Glade and Elendriel.”
I suppressed the urge to curtsy as she looked at Thomas with a smile. His face was blank, his mouth slack, as he stood rooted there.
“Let us walk.” Violette extended her arm and I moved forward three steps.
“What about…” I checked over my shoulder. Thomas had not budged or spoken. He resembled a lovesick boy with a goofy grin.
“Thomas will wait there. I assure you, you are safe in the castle with us.” She circled around and I followed her mindlessly, like a dog on a leash.
Violette. The name suited her considering the long velvet gown in hues of plum she wore on her graceful figure. The fabric flowed over her lithe frame and was lined with flowers and lace. Stunning. Even her braided hair was adorned with purple blossoms and gems. Where Vonnedenia fit with winter, Violette was lush and colorful like spring. By comparison, I was gauche in my unassuming velvet dress of navy and my dark hair pulled to the side in a simple, curling ponytail.
“We have waited a long time for this day.” Her voice possessed the same musical quality Vonnedenia’s did.
Unsure how to respond, I followed her into Mother’s chamber without a word. The door clicked closed behind us and I paused, looking about. There were no guards in the room, nor were there any in the hallway where we left Thomas. Unlike this morning when I visited Mother, the entire wing seemed to be abandoned, save for us.
“What’s going on here?” I asked as my gaze fell upon the table occupied by Mother, Vonnedenia, and who I assumed was the last of the Ladies of the Glade—Marivale.
Violette joined the others at the table and leaned into Vonnedenia’s side. Her focus remained on my face as she whispered into the white fae’s ear before she took her seat. Beside her, Marivale rolled her shoulders and looked my way. After a moment, her head shook subtly, her eyes meeting Vonnedenia’s, silently conveying something. They studied me as though I was a sort of curiosity. A freak.
I bristled and slowly moved farther into the room, meeting their curious glances and swallowing back the rebuttals longing to be said. The intensity in the fae’s eyes raised the hair on the back of my neck.
“Is something wrong?” I finally asked as I gripped the back of the last empty chair.
“We cannot read you,” Vonnedenia said, bewildered.
Black splotches I hadn’t noticed when we met two hours ago marred the translucent skin beneath her eyes. Marivale and Violette had the same tired eyes. It was barely noticeable considering how luminous their faces were, but the bags were there nonetheless. Fortifying Montibello had exhausted them. Their regal heads seemed to dip and sway this way and that as they considered me. Sitting between them, Mother bit her lip.
My nails dug into the wood beneath my fingertips when their silent study lasted longer than I deemed necessary. “You cannot read me? And that is a bad thing?” I prodded.
Mother’s face drew tight. “It means they cannot help recover your memories.”
“My memories?” My past was the furthest thing from my mind when compared to everything else we faced, but knowing they couldn’t help recover it? No matter how trivial it seemed at this point, it was still a sharp knife to the chest to know the memories of my past might be lost to me forever.
“Are there things, memories I hold, that would help you? Or help us in this fight?”
“No,” Vonnedenia said flatly, though her monosyllabic answer held a touch of regret.
“Then why?” Why does it matter to you? Why was my mind erased in the first place? Why are you trying to read me?
“We believe your memories reveal a betrayal,” Vonnedenia said. “Confirmation could be helpful but is not necessary. The rest would solely be for your benefit.”
Betrayal by whom? Selene or Rioden? Xander? I discarded the tiniest notion of Xander doing something so dire he would have required my mind wiped clean and scoffed, “I don’t trust Selene as far as I can throw her.”
Their eyes regarded me with vacancy as I took the last seat. “It is a saying,” I clarified.
Marivale and Violette tipped their beautiful heads, smiles playing upon their impossibly perfect lips.
“I’m not sure about Rioden.” I wanted to trust him, but trusting anyone was difficult and foolish.
“Rioden is honorable,” Mother said with complete confidence. “The Martins died protecting you and Tyalbrook. They have served the Mercier family for generations.”
Generations?
“Being a Guardian, it is something in the family bloodline, right?” I asked. Much like my own prophesied power, I knew little of how the Guardians came to be.
Vonnedenia nodded. “For most. Some are born into it with no familial history that we know of.”
The way some are born with an innate artistic or athletic talent. That made sense.
“Xander’s bloodline through his father, the Martin line, is one of the oldest Guardian lines there is. Perhaps the oldest.” Mother looked at the fae who sagely agreed.
“Had he had proper training…” Marivale trailed off as her beautiful face pinked.
“He is strong.” That proclamation came from Violette who turned her lavender eyes on me once more. “As are you.”
Our gazes held. Tight lines formed around the edges of her eyes before she blinked and turned away. They were still trying to read me. The same way Tabor had tried. I felt it. What would they pry from my mind if they could?
The familiar dance of butterflies flapped deep within my stomach and I relaxed, comforted knowing who would be here any moment. There was no reason to worry about the fae.
“I am strong, or I’m trying to be, but unlike Xander, I have no supernaturally ordained powers. How am I supposed to fight against whatever is coming?”
While Mother’s face was sympathetic to my plight, the fae regarded me with wide eyes full of knowledge. A knowledge I didn’t possess.
The door to the chamber opened and Xander and Cillian walked in with Thomas on their heels. The light radiating from the fae dimmed as Xander bowed.
“Ladies.” His blue eyes met mine, a silent question within. Are you all right?
I tipped my head. I’m fine.
His body relaxed and he stepped farther into the room.
“Tell me of the Glade? Elendriel? All of it is destroyed?” The fae nodded in unison, and Xander rubbed the back of his neck. “And you found nothing that might help us figure out where they’ve gone?”
“No.” Vonnedenia raised a hand, her head cocked to the side curiously. “No, Guardian, we have no information.”
The look she wore had my gaze snapping to Xander, who smirked while his head shook from side to side.
“No fae sought refuge here. Should we send out our soldiers? We could search the area. Travel to the nearby villages and see if anyone knows anything?” Cillian asked.
Why wasn’t he affected by the fae? I looked at Thomas. He’d gone silly stupid in the hall at the sight of Violette, but seemed his usual self now. Though maybe a tad shell shocked as his gaze constantly moved over the room.
“No, that is unnecessary,” Vonnedenia replied to Cillian’s offer. “There is safety here. We have fortified Montibello’s wards from Tabor’s dark magic. You do not have long to build an army of your own.”
“So we build an army. What will they be fighting against?” My question hung in the air.
Vonnedenia’s crystal stare held me hostage. The intensity made me long to retreat and cower under my bed covers. She was intimidating, though not on purpose. She merely didn’t know her own power. Or so I hoped.
“An army of fae,” she answered, her words dripping with sadness.
Fear shook mine. “I don’t understand. Fae?”
“It is what was seen. Our fae, black skies, red rivers of blood upon the ground,” she said tonelessly.
Xander’s sharp inhale drew my attention. “The possessed fae.”
He shared looks with The Three as he massaged his bicep. The place where I knew he held a scar.
Understanding dawned on Cillian’s face. “Like the one you fought outside the Enchanted Forest?”
“Yes. Griffin said they were unsuccessful in capturing them. Whatever takes hold of them takes complete control. We can’t save them. The one I fought struggled until there was no choice but to end his life.”
“And now there are hundreds. Our family.” Vonnedenia’s face was devoid of emotion.
Marivale gasped. Her radiance flickered brightly and I waited for her to morph into a ball of light the way Vonnedenia had in the meadow.
Violette grasped her wrist. “Mari, no.” She pleaded softly as she stood.
The autumn fae’s beautiful face crumbled. “It is time we return to Lavernelle. We need answers,” Marivale said.
Mother remained seated with her hand clutched over her chest and pain etched in her features as she looked between the fae and Xander. Cillian and Thomas were stunned. I shared a look with Xander over my shoulder. A war with fae possessed by evil. By magic. He nodded.
The Ladies of the Glade formed a tight circle and whispered furiously with one another. I couldn’t gather the strength to stand as I watched them debate. Xander’s hand came to rest on my shoulder and I sagged. My panic lessened at the touch of the pad of his thumb against my skin.
Vonnedenia finally turned back to us. “We have heavily warded Montibello. There is nothing else we can do here, Your Majesty. We will return to our homeland and seek what information we can.”
“Of course.” What more could I say? Stay here, fight your own? Could their powers, whatever they are, not help us in this war? Perhaps they worried that whatever evil Tabor held could be used on them. But wasn’t that the problem? If he could possess them…
“How does one sorcerer possess hundreds of fae? If he had so much power, why did he not attack before? Why did he do nothing when I was in his grasp?”
The fae shared veiled glances I would have missed if I weren’t staring so intently, and I looked up at Xander. He’d noticed too. He scowled, his mouth parting as the blast of a horn vibrated through the castle and everything stilled. A second blast filled the night air, and my stomach dropped.
Two long blasts meant trouble.
Xander hauled me from my chair and against his side so hard the air whooshed from my lungs.
“What was that? What’s happening?”
No sooner had I asked the question than Vonnedenia and Marivale exploded into balls of light and disappeared. Mother knocked her chair over in a rush to stand as Xander rushed me to the center of the room, away from the door leading into the corridor. My fingers dug into his forearm wrapped around my waist as he stopped.
“Thomas?” Xander said. Thomas met Xander’s gaze. A look of determination washed over his face then he rushed from the room, his sword unsheathed before he reached the hallway.
“Kerra!” Xander barked Mother’s name. “The passage?”
“Yes, yes, follow me.” She moved toward the door connecting her bedchamber to the sitting chambers we were in earlier today. “In the King’s bedchamber.”
“Your Majesty, wait.” Cillian rushed in front of her, his sword at the ready. He pulled open the door with Violette and Mother at his back. Xander’s grip loosened, allowing me to sidle to his side as we followed.
“Where did Thomas go? And Vonnedenia and Marivale?” I asked.
“There were no guards on this wing. Thomas will cover the staircase in case anyone attempts breaching this wing while we escape.”
I angled back toward the door. “By himself? Shouldn’t you go?” My voice trembled.
“When will you learn? How many times must I tell you my job is keeping you safe?”
“But the horn, the castle—”
“Will be fine. The Guardians and soldiers will handle it.” His eyes scanned my face. “Skye, things are only bound to get worse in the days to come.”
I chewed my lip, my head pounding.
His hand smoothed over the back of my head. “Hey, don’t worry. We are not under attack.”
“How can you be sure?”
He pushed me through the doorway into the royal sitting chamber and closed the door behind him.
“The fae would have felt the presence of an attack. Plus, we have soldiers posted for miles along the paths leading to Montibello. If troops marched on us, we’d know.”
“The room is clear.” Cillian’s head popped into the second doorway and he waved us to follow.
“Xander?” I grabbed his tunic as the others disappeared. He touched my cheek, my name a whisper on his lips as I met his questioning eyes.
“It didn’t take an attack to grab Manda,” I reminded him.
Determination lit behind his eyes. “Which is why we take this precaution,” he said as he drew me into my father’s former bedchamber.
I had less than a moment to survey the mess scattered about the dark room as Xander led me across the large chamber. Mother must have ripped apart anything McClintock touched in her zeal to rid Montibello of the man. We hurried toward Cillian who held back a floor to ceiling tapestry which hung on the far wall of the room. A tapestry which concealed a hidden exit in the stone wall. “Hurry,” he hissed before he disappeared.
Xander laced our fingers together. “No matter what, you do not let go of my hand. Got it?”
I squeezed and wrapped my free hand around his arm. I had no plans of losing him as we stepped into a dark corridor scarcely wide enough for walking single file.
A mellow light bounced off the stone walls ahead of us. Violette? I was attached to Xander’s arm like a third appendage, my chest against his back. Where did this hall lead? Why had no one told me about it? Mother and Violette’s murmurs echoed in the corridor along with our hurried steps, but there was no other sound.
“What do you think is happening out there?” I kept my voice a whisper and still my question ricocheted around the enclosed space.
“Steps.” Cillian warned ahead of us.
“Where does this lead?” I asked.
Xander slowed after a few more feet and I peered around his broad shoulders. The passage morphed into a descending spiral staircase like the set which led to the dungeon.
“Careful,” he said as he stepped down.
“Where does this lead?” I asked again. The air grew damp the farther we went.
He didn’t answer.
“Xander!” I snapped and my angry tone echoed back at me. I sucked air through my teeth and cringed when Xander checked me over his shoulder.
He paused. “It leads to the water.” The tunnel was too dark to make out his features, but his stress was easily ascertained in his tone. “I don’t know what’s happening out there. I’m getting you and Kerra out of the castle as quickly as possible. That is my main concern right now.”
To the water? He tugged my hand and we resumed our downward spiral. Questions raced through my mind and I seized on the first coherent one. “Where did Vonnedenia and Marivale go?”
“I suppose they’re checking things out. They have an advantage in their fairy state.”
The stairs ended at another long passageway and my slippered feet slid on the mildewed rocks of the slick stone floor. I stepped into a cold puddle, drenching my stockinged foot. Well there goes the hem of this pretty dress. I fought laughter at the absurdity of my wayward thoughts. My stress was turning into hysteria.
The sea was close. The briny aroma filled our small escape route making me dream of a day at the beach with sun and sand and … I stumbled as the path sloped upward. Keeping one hand in Xander’s, I released the hand I’d snaked around his arm and used it against the wall for balance, my fingers came away damp and gritty as they swept over the slimy stones.
“We’re heading toward the water gate?” I asked the farther we went. A map of the castle grounds formed in my head.
“Yes,” Xander answered simply.
The one time I’d walked the path from the east side of the castle down to the water I’d not been allowed passage beyond the upper gate. Nickoli’s orders. In truth, the steps on the opposite side of the gate looked treacherously steep and lonely, nestled between the cliffs of Montibello and the Prenn Mountains on the other side of our wall. The path to the water was so far from the castle that by the time I reached it I’d chickened out of wanting to go farther, even if Nickoli hadn’t ordered the guards to stop me.
Nickoli. Where in the world was he? Was he defending the castle with the others, or had he left Montibello after we spoke this morning?
Xander stopped abruptly and I bumped into his back as a sharp inhale filled the cavern. Violette’s glow surged and waned. “The castle is secure,” she said with a sigh.
My eyes remained fastened on her plum hue. “How do you know?”
Xander moved forward and I loosened my grip on his fingers, intending to let go so he could help a grunting Cillian who’d vanished in the darkness ahead. Xander’s head snapped my way, his blue eyes scowled under drawn eyebrows as he looked over his shoulder and readjusted his grip on my hand. Right. Do not let go under any circumstances. I gave him a nervous smile and followed.
We came to a stop in a larger stone room, the floor beneath my feet flat. Xander maneuvered us against the stone wall as he stood in front of us and looked into the shadows. I could see nothing in the darkness, so I kept my gaze on Violette’s bowed head and closed eyes as she wandered into the small room behind us. The glow she’d emitted during our escape dimmed to barely a flicker.
“How does she know the castle is safe?” I asked low when Mother touched my shoulder.
“The fae speak to one another.”
“Telepathy?”
Her lips twisted as confusion flickered in her eyes.
“Yes,” Xander answered for her. “That’s a term from the realm we were in, Kerra.”
He turned to me and continued, “They don’t speak so much as transfer thoughts, pictures—”
His explanation was cut off by Violette’s gasp at the same time as a loud clang of metal reverberated above us. “Climb up,” Cillian’s voice was an echo from overhead.
We ignored his call as glowing purple eyes etched with pain met ours. “A message was sent.”