Chapter Nine

 

 

 

Dylan

Squeezing the ropes tightly, I paused to glance around the cavern. A sudden, overwhelming ache of despair threatened to drown me. Pushing it away, I focused on the stalactites above me until my eyes watered. The other Teleen were already down below on the ground floor, winding the climbing ropes and organizing them into neat piles. I remained up above, standing on the overhang and feeling a cool breeze float up and past me. I liked to linger there and sit over the edge to watch the activity below, or sometimes climb through the crevasses above me that led to the hidden grottos. It was good to get away when my thoughts were dark and I wanted to linger in my head undisturbed.

The early morning climb was a huge break from the things I’d tried to keep from swimming in my head. I’d been at it all day, and the way my palms burned through the fingerless nylon gloves helped me to stay grounded and not let things overwhelm me.

Lately, it was the hardest thing to do.

I pondered for a moment over whether to go up or back down, but the decision was not hard to make. I threw the workers one last look before slipping away into the narrow crevasse. I emerged behind a waterfall and watched the flowing water for a moment before following the ledge to the right. The water splashed violently at that end, and there was no way to avoid getting wet from the spray, but once I got through it, I looked toward the natural pathway through the rocks that led to the grotto where we’d found Soap’s mother. It was no surprise she’d remained hidden there for so long. Even if one climbed like I had and noticed the narrow ledge that continued on past the waterfall, the pathway to Iana’s cabin was so overgrown it was nearly impossible to see unless you were really looking for it.

I made my way into the narrow passage and toward the grotto. The vortex of power which had amplified Iana’s powers was now silent. Her cabin still sat in the decimated circle of mushrooms, but without her presence, the place was dormant, asleep. I’d found it oddly comforting to go there as of late, especially with all the things happening between Shade and me. I was convinced the vortex had an eerily soothing effect on me. So far, it was the only place where I could siphon off some of the rage building up inside me.

It was the only place I didn’t run into him either, which made it my sanctuary of sorts. I avoided my old comrade, Soap, as much as possible while they visited Teleen. The way he lurked about, always at Shade’s side, irked me. I honestly didn’t want to know what was floating through his brain, but I knew it had everything to do with my wife, Shade, and I’d let him push me right out of her bed.

I groaned out loud. The bastard was going to have hell to pay, but for the moment, I couldn’t manage to face either of them. There was so much I wanted to say, but I had no words for any of it. Quite unexpectedly, I faltered.

At least none of the guards ever ventured there. Most were not keen on getting splashed by the waterfall and were nauseated by the presence of the magical vortex, even dormant as it was. It lay on a powerful leyline, spewing wild magic. It didn’t affect me at all, for I was a royal of one of the vast kingdoms of Faerie and was used to such power. The land used me as a conduit. Others weren’t so fortunate, and it caused them extreme discomfort. That made it an ideal place to hide.

“You seem cozy here.”

I jumped slightly and jerked my head to find the last person on earth I’d ever want to see ever again. Corb. The Ancient Faerie Ice King.

I groaned, making sure he heard it. “What the hell are you doing here?” I cringed as a rush of frigid air shot past me, covering the vines surrounding the grotto with a touch of frost. Crystals began to form on the once dew-covered greenery.

“I’ve sensed a strong emotional distress in Shade the past few days. Its felt like my heart was ripping into two. Is she all right?”

I frowned, edged back onto a boulder, and folded my legs under me. The Ice King was no threat. Not anymore. He’d been Shade’s slave while bound to her because of his own devious actions. She’d almost died because his magic had reacted adversely against hers. He’d gotten what he’d deserved: an iron bracelet binding him to Shade’s whims. She’d released him before we were married, a necessary dissolution, but he’d remained connected to my beloved, even poles apart. How was that possible?

“Shade’s fine. We’re just not in agreement on some things right now.”

I eyed him up and down, scrutinizing the pristine Ancient. He made me look like a peasant in his regal black traveling suit. Bands of ebony leather wrapped around his arms, wrists, and over his boots, which reached up over his calves. It was the Unseelie riding outfit he’d used while parading about as a lieutenant for the late Queen Aveta. He must’ve liked the outfit so much he now donned it each time he left his enchanted ice prison—err, castle—in the north.

It was a stark contrast to his pale white hair, matching skin, and mother-of-pearl eyes, and a far cry from the white-out of his castle in the north: The Great Divide. Thinking of the name itself blew a cold spell over my heart. My time spent there had been less than pleasing. He’d erased mine and Shade’s memories while trying to convince Shade to give up Kilara’s secret lair. But she hadn’t. Shade had never known where Kilara was hiding, and the ordeal had nearly turned deadly. His treachery had ended with the fusing of his magic to Shade to keep her from dying. He hadn’t expected the ramifications of that, but it had bound him to Shade, and she could tame anyone.

Like me. Was I so tame now in her company? Maybe I had been silenced too much and it was time to break away for a bit. I’d been feeling uncertain of our bond lately, especially with Soap making Shade question our union so much. It’d done nothing but wreck our passion.

“You don’t look fine.” Corb cocked his head and dug his icy, pupil-less eyes into me, derailing my train of thought. It was unsettling how lifeless they appeared. He was older than anything I’d ever known, and his magic was of the old world. But he, of the four Ancients, was the only one equipped to withstand the modern world. The others had floundered against it. Arthas, Kilara, and even Rowan had all succumbed to the effects of the modern world. All but Corb had run from their responsibilities and had either been put to sleep by my beloved or lost in the vastness of the land.

“It’s none of your business, to be frank,” I said.

Corb snorted and gave off a sideways grin, something that looked odd on him since he’d never cared for warm gestures. “Shade is a complicated woman, isn’t she? She’s magnetizing in a way that draws all creatures to her, even those unwanted. Like other men, perhaps? It’s quite curious to see how pathetic they appear when her heart lies with only two of them.”

“How the hell would you know anything?” I grumbled under my breath and stared hard into the horizon. I had tired of his company and silently wished him away. “What do you want, Corb? Shade cut off ties with you. How would you know she’s in distress?”

The sky was turning a purple lined with burnt tangerine as the sun set. The breeze grew cold as the sun’s kiss began to fade. Corb was the last person I wanted to discuss things with. Nothing about him screamed understanding, humanity, or even kinship. He was as icy cold as his skin, forever frozen in a loveless husk.

Corb lifted one of his boots to the rock next to the one I was sitting on. He tightened the straps on the old-fashioned leather but didn’t appear to have heard me. When he placed his foot back onto the crunchy mulch of the forest floor, he peered at the same sunset I’d been watching. There was a longing in his eyes that I’d never seen before.

“Things of Faerie don’t work the way they do in the human world,” he said. “No fusion is never truly sundered. No creature you touch with magic is ever left the same afterward. I doubt I need to remind you of that. You, Dylan, king of the Southern Realm, would know better than most fey that magical binds can never be broken without taking something vital from those who were bound.”

I turned to look up at him as the sun turned his pale complexion a bright orange, making him appear more human but still ethereal. “What did you take from Shade?”

“I never said it was I who did the taking.”

I swallowed down the lump of coal sitting in my throat, threatening to cut off my breath. “What did she take from you?”

Corb looked away from the light, and his eyes briefly flashed an icy blue. In the center I could just see the faint outline of a dark pupil. He could look human now if he wanted to. When Shade had held the leash of his powers, he had turned blonde and blue eyed. He’d almost looked human. It’d been odd to see him look so normal, like any other fey man.

“Shade is magnetic, but magnets pick up all the unwanted pins. She took a part of my magic that doesn’t affect me, truly, but I’m afraid it won’t be quite the same for her. Everyone she touches, everything she binds herself to, will never be able to live without her touch again. She siphons off a bit of each of us.”

My eyes widened. “What does that even mean?”

“I’m not quite sure, actually. It might do nothing to Shade, like what I assume is happening right now, or it could manifest into something later, when she least expects it. I can’t be sure. I only know that I am forced to seek her out now and then, even if just for a moment. She somehow re-energizes her charges. With such power, we are all slaves to her.”

I jumped to my feet and grabbed Corb’s jacket, the dark leather squeaking under my pull. “Tell me what it can do to her or you’ll regret coming to this mountain, Ice King.”

Corb’s pupils vanished into their usual prismatic, multifaceted abyss of white. It made him look more unnatural than he already did. To my surprise, he didn’t flinch or scowl at me. Not even a wicked smile graced his features. In fact, I almost felt a twitch of concern ebbing off of the old faery.

“I am not a soothsayer, Dylan. There is no way to tell what will happen or if anything will occur at all. Shade is no fragile flower. I predict she’ll handle it quite deftly, unlike some others who’d crumble under such powers, such responsibilities. I do believe it has everything to do with Kilara, but I am unable to say exactly what it is yet. Your beloved is destined for far greater things than lovers’ quarrels.”

He fixed those white, crystalline eyes on me, and I matched him stare for stare before I finally let him go. Corb smoothed down his jacket, looking as though I hadn’t just grabbed him. The man never buckled under pressure, and the fact that he could coax such a rise out of me with so little effort made my face burn. It infuriated me because he was right.

“Yes, Shade can handle most anything. Even…even….”

“A harem of devoted men?”

I felt my muscles seize. I refused to turn toward the ice king and let him get the satisfaction of watching me seethe. It was bad enough to have Soap to worry about, with his hands all over my beloved, let alone a needy ice Ancient.

“Tell me you’re not here to join it.” I silently pleaded that he wasn’t. I couldn’t take more than one other man grasping for Shade’s attention now. It was different when others had courted her before we were married. Now she was my wife, and men still sought her out regardless of her marital status. It was an unending battle and worse than knife sticking into my side.

Corb snickered. “I’m afraid you have it all wrong. I’ve only ever loved one woman, and she is nowhere to be found. For a man of my power, everything pales in comparison, including your half-blood bride. I only return to satisfy my power requirements, and then I will take my leave.”

“Kilara will probably be dead soon,” I said, but not without wanting to bite my tongue right after. I glanced over at Corb and saw that his smile had faded. I hoped my words wouldn’t enrage the Ancient.

“You may be correct,” he snapped, “but until I can confirm it, I will continue my search for my queen.”

I looked away, not wanting to earn any further wrath from Corb. Most of the time, he was like a calm lake. A calm, frozen lake. But after his connection with Shade had been severed, I’d not seen him much, and I could tell his experience of nearly being turned into a regular, powerless being had not left him unscathed either. Despite his cool demeanor, I knew his emotions were raw, fluctuating, and inconsistent. I wondered if Shade knew she was the key to this. Maybe she didn’t. Her mind was elsewhere lately, as was mine.

I closed my eyes. The thought of her burned inside my skull. Where there was usually passion, I felt the thin line of hatred blooming. Her love for Soap was driving a wedge between us, no matter how hard I tried to accept it. How could she have done this to me? She’d promised me forever. It was never supposed to be like this. Why was I not enough?

“Don’t be so hard on your wife. She only does what is best for Faerie. The land has a way of using us for its own purposes, and we are not always in control of how or why things happen.”

I flung my eyes opened to watch the Ancient back away and study the cottage sitting in the center of the vortex. He held a gloved hand out to the energy flowing from the site. Closing his eyes, he let a small smile play on the corners of his lips. The bastard was enjoying the wild magic. I loathed him for invading my one sacred spot.

“What’s it to you? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” I snapped my mouth shut, not wanting to instigate, but it was too late.

“She loves you, but still you left her. Now, when she needs you the most, you are here and not at her side. What would Faerie say of your vows?”

“She chose another and is with him. I can’t stomach it. I just need… space to think.”

“Don’t think too hard, Teleen. Humans tend to forget what’s not in front of them. Out of sight, out of mind. Return to her. In the end, you know you must.”

He winked, and a moment later ceased to exist. It was like he’d never been standing before me. I knew better. The frost from his appearance remained stuck to the tops of the leaves and mushrooms.

My throat felt blocked, the air thick, refusing to pass the knot in my chest. Damn it, but Corb was right. I couldn’t stay away forever. I needed to let Shade know how much I loved her or risk losing her.

But how could I do that when I was already forgotten?