Nightborn: Totally addictive fantasy fiction (The Hollow King Book 2)

by Jessica Thorne

  ‘Jehane, you’ll wake the dead. And they won’t be happy. Especially not with that imagery.’

  ‘At least you’re smiling, my queen. Should I sing instead?’

  That made her laugh. ‘Dear divinities, no. Keep watch. Stay out here and be quiet. If I’m the moon and the stars and everything else’ – she couldn’t say a queen, couldn’t use that word – ‘you can follow my command and do what you’re told.’

  Grace left him standing there, still smiling to herself and walked towards the inn. She glanced up and saw the figure standing at the window. Bastien. She knew him instantly, even from his silhouette in the candlelight. He’d been watching them, had seen everything.

  And even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he thought the worst.

  The humour drained out of her. Only pain remained.

  And the gnawing pit deep down inside her, eating away at everything she held dear. She hadn’t meant to, but somehow she felt she had betrayed him.

  Chapter 22

  Grace’s second watch was uneventful to begin with. She checked the perimeter first, then she climbed the stairs to check upstairs. The corridor was empty and there wasn’t a sound from Bastien’s room. She stood there for the longest time, her hand pressed to the surface of the door, ready to open it and go to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She closed her eyes and once more forced herself to be strong.

  A noise behind her made her turn. Rynn stood in the doorway dressed in a scant, silken robe. Where she’d got hold of that, the goddess alone knew. She couldn’t have looked more shocked or horrified to find Grace there if she’d tried. No pretence in that look.

  ‘Your highness,’ Grace said in as calm a tone as she could manage.

  ‘Oh. I was just… um… I thought you were—’

  Bastien, obviously. Maybe Rynn was ready to consummate that marriage after all. So long as she got the protection she wanted. Problem was she only had to ask him. He’d protect her. He had a heart that would look after this whole world even if it killed him.

  ‘I see.’ What else could she say? It was pitifully obvious.

  Rynn glanced towards the door to Bastien’s room. ‘What were you…?’

  ‘Checking security, your highness,’ she said in even tones. ‘I’ll let you get back to sleep.’

  Well, she didn’t have to give her an open invitation. Grace turned and made her way down the stairs but Rynn followed her. There was no shaking her off. Grace wondered momentarily if this was how Bastien felt. But no. Clearly not. Bastien had just turned off his feelings again, focused on whatever it was he had to do in Thorndale. Pushing her away.

  For a brief moment, on board that ship, with him, their bodies entwined, she had cherished a brief hope that they could be together. Since they set foot on Larelwynn soil, that was gone. Evaporated like morning mist.

  And still Rynn was wittering on.

  ‘Captain Marchant, I didn’t… I wouldn’t…’

  ‘So you said.’ Divinities, why wouldn’t she go away?

  ‘Under the law—’

  Grace turned on her, straining not to draw a knife. ‘Oh, I know all about the law.’

  That was when Ellyn came out of the guardroom, bleary-eyed. Her mouth opened, her gaze fixed on Rynn. ‘Divinities, don’t you own any clothes that actually cover you up?’

  Rynn’s face made a sort of pained, embarrassed wince, and turned scarlet with mortification. Abruptly, Grace felt sorry for her. She didn’t want to, really didn’t, but there they were.

  ‘I was just… I wanted to talk to you, Officer de Bruyn.’

  Ellyn scratched her head, her hair falling out of the plait. ‘Me?’

  ‘Well… yes… You’re Valenti too, and you’re of noble birth.’

  Grace raised her eyebrows and Ellyn shot her a filthy look.

  Rynn went on. ‘Your family—’

  ‘Are all dead now. Mainly thanks to your family.’

  The princess closed her arms around herself. ‘Well yes. But you said – you said you’d help me. And you – I wanted to talk to you.’

  ‘Dressed like that?’

  The frustration showed on Rynn’s beautiful features. ‘My clothes are part of the problem. I have some from the ship but… I was hoping…’

  But Ellyn was taller and broader than the princess, a form made for fighting and—

  And suddenly Grace got it. Oh, she’d been so stupid. Rynn wasn’t looking for Bastien, sneaking around in the middle of the night. She had a perfect right to go to him whenever she wanted under the law, as she said. She was his wife. But she’d opened that door when she heard a guard, hoping, no doubt, it was Ellyn.

  ‘Oh,’ said Ellyn, her grey eyes going wide. Her gaze trailed over the young woman and she flushed a little. Then they narrowed again, suspiciously.

  Rynn began to retreat. Grace took pity on the two of them. Well, more on Ellyn than the princess but she’d known her longer. And liked her more. Ellyn had never seen the point of fixating on just one gender, she’d often said. She saw beauty everywhere. And Rynn was indeed beautiful.

  ‘Officer de Bruyn,’ Grace said in her best Academy voice. ‘You did volunteer to help her, as I remember it.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Distinctly.’ Grace shook her head, trying not to smile. ‘Always told you not to volunteer but you never listen to me.’

  ‘I never… Grace?’ The look of panic was comical.

  Daniel was going to laugh so hard when she told him. And Bastien—

  The thought of him made her stop.

  Her heart, briefly buoyed up, sank again like a stone.

  ‘Grace.’ Ellyn hadn’t moved and her voice was suddenly more urgent. There was a noise outside. Grace fixed Rynn with a firm look and lifted a finger to her lips. Then she gestured to Ellyn to take her upstairs. Grace slipped through the doorway to the guardroom.

  ‘Daniel? Jehane?’ she whispered and they stirred, waking just as quickly. The tone of her voice did it. Misha sat up too, blinked groggily, nowhere near as awake. ‘You stay here,’ she told him firmly. ‘There’s someone outside.’

  ‘Where’s Ellyn?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Upstairs. Warning the others and getting Rynn hidden.’ Or at least she had better be. That was the drill when protecting someone.

  Grace nodded to the door of the guardroom, grateful she’d slept down here. She slid across the room and opened the door a crack. Three figures, all clad in black, their heads hooded, all armed, had entered the inn. A man’s body sprawled by the main door, blood pooling around him. The innkeeper had either let them in or had tried to stop them. Whichever, it had ended badly for him.

  Jehane slipped by her, out the door, heading for the taproom, and seemed to become shadows himself.

  With a quick series of hand signals, Grace directed the squad to back her up and Misha to stay put and hide.

  Then she heard them, coming right for the guardroom door.

  ‘Get the guards. Especially the redhead.’

  She knew that voice. Shit.

  Seven hells erupted on the other side of the taproom. Shadows poured out from behind the bar, swirling around the nearest attacker and bringing him down in seconds. But Jehane couldn’t stop them all. The second and third came towards her. The main door to the inn stood open and more figures flooded in. It was impossible to tell how many, too dark and too much movement. She was under attack. They all were.

  Worse, she was a target. Their leader had singled her out.

  Daniel headed for the door, his knives flashing as he moved. Jehane leaped on top of the bar and reached for another figure. He went down, gasping for breath, strands of shadows wrapped around his throat. Then the Shade sought Grace out and she saw the look of alarm pass over his handsome face. ‘Grace, look out!’

  Something slammed into her, pushed her against the wooden panels on the wall. Her head glanced off the surface, leaving her dizzy for a second, a second too long. Her attacker’s rough hands grabbed h
er shirt, feeling for the warrant.

  ‘Figured you’d be upstairs fucking his lordship,’ the man drawled. ‘Lucky me, you made it easy.’ His hand closed on the warrant and his face lit up in triumph. ‘I got it, boss!’ he yelled.

  ‘No!’ A deeper voice, cultured and angry, shouted from the stairs. How had they reached the stairs already? ‘I said don’t touch it. Just—’

  But the warning was far too late. The man holding her burst into flames.

  Jehane was right. The warrant protected itself. No one could take it from her by force.

  ‘Yeah,’ Grace muttered. ‘Lucky you.’

  She swiftly kicked his burning body away and the man crumbled in front of her eyes. The ghastly fire illuminated the room. Dozens of them, hooded figures, overpowering her team, already up the stairs and too many to deal with, far too many.

  A huge man, twice the size of anyone else there, seized Jehane by the leg and pulled him off the bar. His head slammed into it as he went down and in that instant all the shadows faded. The fire from the corpse illuminated the room, but as another man stepped forward and stretched out his hand, water gushed over the flames, dousing them. A Tide… and the other one was a Brawn… They were mageborn. There were others too, a Flint maybe. Not all of them, but enough. And they were powerful. Too powerful.

  ‘Enough!’ A familiar figure hauled Misha out of the guardroom, a knife at his throat. Going for the weakest of them, and their weakness. ‘Stand down,’ said Asher Kane. The knife pressed closer, a line of red trickling down the harper’s throat. ‘You two, weapons down.’

  They were outnumbered, surrounded. Daniel dropped his blades instantly. Divinities, he never learned. Grace’s own knives were still firmly in her hands. She had no intention of obeying Kane.

  Kane pushed Misha forward onto his knees and one of his compatriots stepped up behind him. Misha’s eyes were huge, pleading with Grace as the sword tip pressed to the base of his skull. A soldier’s execution stance, quick and brutal. All the bastard had to do was fall forward and Misha would never survive.

  ‘And what do you want here?’ she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

  ‘My king, of course, and his bride. Her family are beside themselves. Oh, and I want the warrant. Naturally. Hand it over, there’s a good girl.’

  Condescension never made her willing to cooperate. She would have thought someone would have worked that out by now. Not Asher Kane, clearly.

  ‘I can’t do that.’ She’d only taken it off once, to give it to Bastien and recreate the crown which turned him into the Hollow King. He’d given it back. She didn’t even know what would happen if she gave it to someone else now. Especially not with the touch of the Deep Dark on it.

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  Grace shrugged. Either way, she wasn’t giving it up. Kane stalked towards her and his guards fell back, letting him approach her alone. She couldn’t do anything. If she stabbed him, Misha was dead, and Daniel and Jehane seconds later. Divinities alone knew where Ellyn was. Guarding Rynn, she hoped. There was no sign of Lara at all.

  And as for Bastien…

  ‘Drop the weapons, Marchant. It’s over. Learn when to give up.’ Grace loathed that tone and knew it too well. Kane actually smiled. But his pulse jumped in his throat, giving a lie to his confidence. She watched it, thinking about how easy it would be to slam a knife right in there. It would only take seconds. And then… then they’d all die, of course. Those following him didn’t seem the type to just back down without him.

  Grace sheathed the knives and Kane smiled, self-satisfied and loathsome. He was so sure of himself.

  She was going to wipe that smug expression off his face. Maybe not now. But soon. Of that she was determined.

  He reached out, stroked her face and she suppressed a shudder of revulsion. ‘Remarkable,’ he murmured. ‘Orphan, street child, Academy brat… but look at you. Marius was a canny man, of course. He knew, I suppose, the moment he saw you, how Bastien would react and how you could use that to control him. Our Lord of Thorns always was entirely predictable. Where is he? Upstairs with the princess?’

  She kept her eyes fixed on his, although the temptation to glance up was almost overwhelming.

  Had Lara got him out? Had they escaped? Ellyn was up there too with Rynn. Had they managed—

  Kane grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrenched her head to one side. ‘Come along, Captain Marchant. Let’s go and see our reluctant king, shall we? Maybe he can persuade you. Or you him.’

  He all but dragged her up the stairs, kicked open the door to Bastien’s room and flung her inside. She’d hoped it would be empty, that while they’d been fighting downstairs, Bastien and the others would have escaped through the window or something. But he had done nothing of the sort. Of course he hadn’t.

  Bastien stood there, arms folded, waiting, all alone.

  ‘Asher,’ he said in a voice as cold as arctic wind. ‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harm her. I’ll be very put out if you do. Did Aurelie send you?’

  ‘Aurelie, the Dowager, Celeste… what is it with you and powerful women, Bastien? You really know how to piss them off.’

  Bastien bent down and helped Grace gently to her feet. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘There were too many of them.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’ Like she’d spilled something. Like it didn’t matter at all.

  She scanned the room. Four more of Kane’s guards came in behind him. Three wore collars, she could see that now they’d discarded their hoods. Their eyes were dark. Nightborn.

  He was working with the nightborn…

  Seeing her notice, Kane’s hyena smile widened. ‘Celeste and I came to an agreement with the Deep Dark. It’s very persuasive. And the nightborn are its creatures.’

  Across the corridor, the door was closed. Was Ellyn in there with Rynn? She had to be. And where was Lara? Damn it all, they were too few, scattered and at this bastard’s mercy.

  ‘What do you want, Asher?’ Bastien asked.

  The cruel smile spread over his face. ‘Why, only a Larelwynn on the throne of course. And you, Lord of Thorns, in your rightful place. But first I need obedience. Real obedience this time. And to get that I need the chunk of gold around your lover’s pretty neck.’

  Bastien’s hand closed on Grace’s arm and he moved her gently to his side, and then behind him. ‘That is not negotiable.’

  Asher grinned. ‘Oh, I think it is. She needs to learn her place in all this.’

  The guards rushed them. Grace didn’t even have time to get the knives out. Bastien’s hands closed on the nearest mageborn, tearing the magic out of him before he could even use it. The man cried out and fell, his body convulsing.

  But they weren’t just mageborn. They were nightborn, their wild magic racing through them, making them stronger and faster. More dangerous by far.

  The Brawn seized Grace, his arms wrapping around her, lifting her off the ground. The grip crushed her arms against her sides, and beneath them her ribs into her lungs. She couldn’t catch her breath, no matter how she squirmed and kicked. He absorbed any blow she managed to land, each one making him even stronger. The world turned blurred and dark, patches of light eating away at her vision.

  ‘Enough, or we’ll work out how to take the warrant from her corpse,’ Asher Kane shouted. ‘We don’t actually need her. Just the warrant. Do as you’re told, Bastien.’

  Bastien fell still, staring at her, and she knew… He’d give up. For her. She could see it in his eyes.

  She was his weakness.

  ‘Where is the Valenti girl?’ Kane asked.

  ‘Gone,’ Bastien said firmly. ‘She wasn’t actually too keen on marriage as it turned out. Not when your spell broke.’

  Asher shook his head. ‘She was a sharper little thing than I thought. I’ll enjoy breaking her when I catch up with her, rest assured. I think the Larelwynns have always set too much store by that ridiculous potion anyway. We can try it again when we get to Rathlyn
n. But there are other ways to exert pressure on you, Bastien.’ He leered at Grace. ‘We all know that.’

  So they hadn’t found Rynn, or Ellyn. If things had been different, Grace would have breathed a sigh of relief, but that wasn’t an option right now.

  Asher waved his hand and the Brawn crushed Grace in his grip until she felt like her ribs were about to crack.

  Bastien gave a choked cry and lurched forward but Asher blocked his way.

  ‘Now, we’ll start again. Grace here is going to suffer every time you defy me. And you know the things I’m capable of doing.’

  ‘Let her go. Please.’

  Bastien could destroy Asher Kane with a touch. All he had to do was reach out. But he didn’t. Because of her… He could get out of here. She knew the power he could command. Even now, even diminished with the torc around his neck and the warrant around hers. He was the strongest mageborn she knew.

  But he wouldn’t…

  ‘Give me the warrant, Bastien,’ Asher said.

  The grip on her tightened. Painful now. She couldn’t breathe. White spots danced in front of her eyes.

  ‘Grace,’ Bastien murmured. And she suddenly knew what he was thinking, what he was prepared to do to save her. Because he would always try to save her.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ she gasped. She could barely get the words out. But she had to. ‘That’s an… an order. Don’t you dare put this thing on him.’ She felt the power of the warrant wind itself around them both, more clearly than she had ever felt it before. That should protect him, shouldn’t it? It had to. It was all she could do now.

  ‘Grace… I’m sorry,’ he said. Sorry? He had nothing to be sorry for. She had failed him, not the other way around. Her one job had been to keep him safe.

  The Brawn let her go and she dropped to her hands and knees. But before she could recover he kicked her in the stomach, lifting her off the ground. She rolled away, gasping in pain. The other guards laughed quietly, snickering among themselves.

  The Flint had taken up position outside the doorway. But he wasn’t alone. A slight figure slid like a shadow behind the Flint and, before Grace could blink, he stiffened, opening his mouth to cry out. But he made no sound, gasped and buckled. The figure caught him and pulled him silently out of sight.