by Jen McIntosh
Chapter Fourteen
It was too easy. They hadn’t even needed to wait that long – which was just as well. Alexan sent up a silent prayer of thanks for that as he watched his prey inch closer. Patience was not something that Kieyin held in significant supply, and the sooner his part here was done, the sooner the Shade Prince could turn his attentions to retrieving Keriath from the Darkling Queens. If their luck continued to hold, they’d be back in Elucion with both daughters before autumn’s end.
Alexan had been counting on someone needing to leave the safety of the wards. Inevitably, they’d need to travel into Shadowbriar at some point, whether to trade at the market or gather information about what was happening in the world beyond their little farm. He had not expected a hunting trip. He certainly hadn’t dared to hope to catch Théon alone.
And yet, here they were, shadowing her as she crept through the forest. It was now after sunset, and she’d been out since dusk. There were already two fat pigeons in her game bag, and her lips were stained with the juice from a patch of wild berries she’d raided. Like a child, she’d stuffed half of them in her mouth before she’d deigned to gather some to take back. The small buck she was stalking was a bonus.
She handled the bow well, though that wasn’t a surprise. She’d been taught well enough. The Shade King. Her mother. Alexan himself. Her body was taut and loose in all the right places, her soft footfalls near-silent as she crept through the woods. She paused, took a steadying breath, aimed and let the arrow fly.
It buzzed through the air, and the beast’s head whipped around. But before it could move, there was a dull thwack as the arrow pierced through hide and flesh, driving straight into the heart. It dropped to the ground, stunned, before adrenaline had it surging once more to its feet and disappearing into the undergrowth. Théon’s eyes gleamed in the gloom, but she didn’t follow it. Instead, she sighed, slinging her bow back over her shoulder while she waited for the beast to die.
‘I see you finally learned how to hunt.’ Kieyin’s irreverent voice drifted from the darkness.
Alexan stilled. This was it.
Théon started to her feet, drawing the hunting knife from its sheath at her hip. But there was no fear in her eyes when Kieyin stepped from the shadows.
‘Better than you,’ she responded, in a voice that Alexan barely recognised. The voice of the Shade King’s daughter. ‘You never had the discipline for it.’
Kieyin chuckled. ‘Discipline is for dullards. I prefer life with a little more zest.’
‘I can imagine. Seren always said you’d leave a trail of broken hearts across Elucion.’ Alexan smiled. Just as he’d hoped. They’d been raised together as children by the Shade King, until Diathor had stolen her daughter back. If she would hesitate for anyone, it would be Kieyin.
The Shade grinned. ‘Did I break your heart, little Théon?’
‘Hardly,’ she snorted. ‘I was ten the last time I saw you.’
‘Ten-year-old hearts can still be broken,’ he assured her. ‘Mine was. The day you left.’
Théon rolled her eyes. ‘The only person you’ve ever been in love with is yourself. Tell me, do you still keep a mirror in your pocket?’
‘I’ve found far more interesting places to keep mirrors,’ he purred, winking. It was Alexan’s turn to roll his eyes. There was an obscenely large mirror mounted on the ceiling above Kieyin’s enormous bed. ‘I could show you if you like?’
She ignored him. ‘How did you find me?’
Kieyin huffed an exasperated sigh, examining his fingernails. ‘Sweetheart, we never lost you.’
‘What do you want, Kieyin?’
‘Daddy dearest sent me to bring you home.’
She stilled. Alexan tensed in readiness. He could feel the magic building inside her. Any moment now. ‘Then he sent you to your death.’
She lunged. Kieyin spun, laughing as he danced away from the blade flashing in the darkness. Théon was fast. But Kieyin was faster, swirling towards Théon in a whirlwind of shadow and smoke, knocking the knife from her hand with ease. Théon ducked low, hitting him in the gut with her shoulder, bearing them both to the ground. Kieyin grunted, driving his knee up into Théon’s ribs. Théon barked a curse of pain, and Alexan heard her bones crack beneath the force of the blow. But she returned the favour, smashing her elbow into Kieyin’s face. Alexan waited.
Then they were up. Kieyin spat out a mouthful of blood as magic flickered to life in his outstretched hands. The Wielding. The power of the Shade. Raw, unadulterated destruction.
Théon was panting, aura flaring to heal her broken bones and summon up a storm, wreathing her fists in light as she readied herself to fight. Kieyin struck first. The Wielding streaked through the darkness, slamming into a shield of solid air. The clash of magic shook the ground beneath their feet, and Alexan could see Théon’s jaw clenched tight as Kieyin battered her defences. But she held her ground and hurled a bolt of lightning at his head. There was nothing graceful to it. She was relying on brute strength and aggression. Alexan knew she was skilled, but it was becoming clear to him that emotion had chased all thought of control from her mind. Still, he waited.
Finally, finally, Théon began to tire. Her attacks grew more careful, cautious. As if conserving what remained of her strength. Then Kieyin grinned, and shattered the tattered remnants of her shield.
‘Get ready,’ he whispered in Alexan’s mind.
Alexan snorted. As if he needed told.
‘You should have come quietly, Théon,’ Kieyin goaded. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised though. You did what your father would have done. Even after all this time, you’re still his true heir.’
The Wielding coiling around him, Kieyin readied to strike.
Alexan charged. He surged forward, slamming into the Shade with all he had. Threw him bodily against a tree. Turned to see Théon, stunned and motionless.
‘Run!’ he roared.
Shaken from her stupor, she did as he bid, turning and racing for the croft, for the safety of the wards. Alexan was aware of Kieyin swearing as he staggered to his feet, rushing to follow. Shaping the Wielding into a bow and arrow. Gods, he was so melodramatic.
‘Hurry up,’ he hissed at Alexan, drawing and taking aim. But Alexan was already there, running parallel to Théon as she charged through the woods, back towards the farm. ‘This is going to hurt.’
Alexan growled. ‘Just make sure you don’t hit anything vital.’
He felt the tremor of magic as Kieyin loosed.
He swerved. Dived at Théon. Shoved her clear of the arrow of Wielding magic arcing through the air towards her.
Took the death blow intended for her. He roared as it struck, at the searing pain that burst through his chest from behind. Stumbled and fell, forcing himself not to swear out loud all the obscenities he wanted to hurl at Kieyin.
‘Are you fucking serious!’ he roared. It had missed his heart – just – but the magic had still punched a hole the size of a fist through his chest. He’d seen Kieyin train often enough to know it hadn’t been an accident.
A ghost of a chuckle echoed through his head. ‘Sorry, brother, but this is your best chance. Try not to die.’
Then that presence was gone, and warm hands were on him. His head was swimming with the agony of his wound, the world around him fading in and out of focus, the strength to heal himself spilling out onto the hillside. He was just glad it was dark. If she saw the colour of his blood, she’d never save him. At least the overpowering scent of Kieyin’s Wielding would prevent her smelling it.
‘Come on.’ Her voice above him was insistent. ‘Come on, get up. My home is warded – it’s not far, but I need you to get up.’
He coughed weakly, spitting blood onto the ground as he allowed her to haul him up and sling his arm around her slender shoulders. Her fingers closed around his wrist, keeping him there. Even in his semi-conscious state, he couldn’t help but notice how callused her hands were. The heat of her Casting wrapped around his che
st, holding the wound together and slowing the blood loss.
Then they were moving, stumbling through the darkness towards the house. Alexan could sense Kieyin following, herding them back but not closing so near that he risked another confrontation.
He wasn’t sure how long it took to make that frantic flight for the croft, but he caught the scent of the wards on the wind. Felt the magical protection around the house recoil and flare in protest at his presence. But Théon’s hand around his squeezed as she pulled him through, the Casting retreating at her presence and command. His stomach heaved as it brushed against the corrupt power in his veins, but then he was through, and the sensation faded.
Théon was panting as she lowered him to the ground, straightening to search the hillside for signs of pursuit. Alexan summoned the strength to lift his head just as Kieyin strolled from the shadows towards them. Hands in pockets, his pale eyes raked over the wards, and he let out a low whistle.
‘Impressive,’ he admired. ‘Won’t keep you safe though, sweetheart. Daddy dearest could tear them down with half a thought.’
She bared her teeth at him again. ‘Maybe. Beyond you though, isn’t it?’
‘I can wait.’
Théon snorted in disbelief. ‘When you tell him how you failed, make sure none of the Court is there to witness it. He won’t be able to spare you if they are.’
Kieyin’s face was impassive, but there was a flicker of annoyance in that pale gaze. Then he stepped back and vanished in a ripple of Transference.
Above him, Alexan heard Théon swear in relief before she crashed down beside him. He closed his eyes before she could see them and let out a sigh of relief. The heat of her Casting loosened and grew gentler, softer, as she knitted flesh and bone back together.
‘Thank you,’ she was murmuring. ‘I don’t know who you are, or why you did it, but thank you.’
His voice was a breathless gasp, stifled by pain, but he managed to speak the words. The last words he’d spoken to her, a hundred years ago now. ‘You need never thank me. I swore my life to the Elf-Queen. It is yours. Forever.’
There was a pause, followed by a gasp of recognition.
‘Alexan?’ she whispered.
He kept his eyes closed. Held off a moment longer before he revealed the truth. Waited until she’d healed his wound.
‘It’s been a long time, Princess,’ he murmured.
‘A hundred years,’ she agreed. ‘They told me you were dead.’
Alexan steeled himself and opened his eyes. The revulsion on her face, the way she recoiled at the sight of them … it hurt far more than he’d expected.
‘Sometimes I wish I was,’ he admitted.
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘What happened to you?’
‘It’s complicated,’ he said, sitting up. Kept his hands where she could see them. Wide and open. That universal signal for peace.
‘I’m sure I can keep up,’ she snapped, doing nothing to hide the distrust and anger in her eyes. Her voice was bitter, filled with a dark, savage rage that he knew too well. Her father’s voice. The voice of the Shade King. Her aura flickered to life around her, and he felt the wind stir in warning.
So he tried to find the words. Tried to explain something he barely understood himself. Explain the decisions he’d made since they parted. Weeks after the Fall, when the Darklings had finally hunted them down. Théon. Illyandi. All those other children who had somehow survived. He’d stood his ground, alongside Kalielle Half-Elven and a Unicorn woman whose name he could no longer remember. All to buy those children time to flee. He’d meant to die that day, yet here he was.
‘There were too many of them,’ he began. ‘Someone had to stay behind to hold the line. We knew you’d never agree, so we lied. I lied. We never intended to come with you, Théon. Not when Kalielle had the power to destroy them all and cover your tracks. She couldn’t risk being taken, dead or alive. Her plan was always to yield the Rising and take as many Darklings with her as she could. But someone had to keep them off her long enough for you and the others to get clear.’
Those evergreen eyes were lined with silver as they welled with tears. ‘How did you survive?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘After … I woke up, and I was alone. The Darklings were dead. Kalielle too. You were long gone, and I didn’t want to risk leading anyone to you.’ He took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘I’d broken my vow, Théon. When I left my Queen behind to get you out of Illyol, I broke my vow. My life was forfeit. I should have died with Kalielle, but I didn’t. There was only one reason for me to continue living. I went after the Shade King. I wanted to kill him for what he’d done to my Queen. For what he’d done to you.’
Théon stared at him, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘And what made you think you could succeed where so many before you had failed? Where people with ten times your power, skill and experience had failed?’
‘I didn’t care. I wanted to die, Théon – I deserved to die. All I wanted was to take him with me. But I never got close. You know what your father is. You don’t need me to tell you what went through his head when I was presented to him.’
Her expression darkened, but she released the Casting and said in a hollow voice. ‘If all you wanted was death, then it would be the last thing he would ever give you. You hated him enough to give your life to try to kill him, so the worst punishment for you would be to let you live. To let you live not only knowing that you had failed but bound in eternal servitude to him. Any actual usefulness you had was just a bonus.’
Alexan nodded. Shoved the memories aside. The Claiming. Everything that followed. A wave of self-loathing threatened to overwhelm any semblance of composure that remained. He shoved that aside too. It wasn’t helpful.
‘So are you here to kill me, Lord Protector?’ she asked, her gaze dead and shoulders slumped. The image of defeat, but he flinched anyway. From that title. The honour it implied. He did not deserve it.
‘No.’
‘No?’ she said. There was no avoiding the disbelief in her voice. ‘You saved me from Kieyin. Why?’
‘I swore my life to the Elf-Queen,’ he reminded her, ‘and when your mother died, that title passed to you. When I heard the Shade King was coming for you, I knew I had to act. I broke my vow once. I won’t do it again.’
It was a half-truth. He couldn’t quite bring himself to lie to her again.
‘Why now?’ she demanded. ‘It’s been a hundred years since the Fall – why is he sending people after me now?’
‘Who knows why he does anything? He speaks, we obey. I learned not to ask questions a long time ago.’
Another half-truth. She was quiet for a while, considering. ‘Alright,’ she said, her expression unreadable as she offered her hand. He took it, almost sighing with relief but was careful not to let it show on his face. She pulled him to his feet and offered him a look of warning. ‘I’m not sure I believe you, but right now, I need all the help I can get. So I’ll spare you, for now. But if your loyalties change, or you have them changed for you, remember – I spent over a decade at my father’s side, learning everything he knows about power and pain. You won’t win.’
‘I understand,’ he said, dipping his head in submission even as some part of him itched at the implicit challenge.
She shot him a warning glare. ‘Don’t mistake this mercy for trust. If you come with me, I can’t promise that you’ll survive. There aren’t many of the Graced who can tolerate a Darkling without bloodshed.’
‘I know the risks.’
She looked him over once more, her gaze frank and assessing. She snorted and turned away. ‘I hope so.’
As they approached the croft, Alexan spotted the old man blocking the doorway while Illyandi hovered at this shoulder. Théon seemed to note it at the same time he did, huffing out an exasperated sigh.
‘This might be interesting,’ she muttered. ‘Are you armed?’
Alexan nodded. ‘Dirk on my thigh and a dagger in each boot.�
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Her eyes skimmed his hips and chest.
‘And the knife belt under your shirt,’ she added with a wry smile. He didn’t bother to dispute it. ‘I’m going to take them. Better if you just stand still and let me do it. If he sees you drawing a weapon, chances are he’ll kill you before I can explain.’
Alexan nodded and kept his hands up as she approached. Her fingers skimmed up under his shirt and divested him of his weapons with practised ease. His heart stuttered in his chest at her feather-light touch, at the heat rising to his cheeks. But when she dropped to her knees before him to free the daggers from his boots, his face turned to flame.
He forced himself to look skyward, gritting his teeth against the images that rose in response to that sight, cursing how much the last century had corrupted his mind. For the love of the Gods, she was Diathor’s daughter.
‘Anything else I should know about?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow as her gaze raked his body once more.
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. ‘You’re welcome to investigate further.’
She was silent for a moment. Then she snorted.
‘Oh, Illyandi is going to just love you,’ she chuckled, before turning on her heel and leading him towards the house. He followed at a safe distance, careful to keep his hands where the old man could see them.
Even silhouetted as Silvermane was against the light, Alexan could see he was furious. He carried his unsheathed sword in one hand, the other leaning on his cane. But even with only one leg, there was no doubt in Alexan’s mind that the old man was dangerous. There was something powerful sleeping behind those ancient eyes. He was careful not to meet that gaze. Already, he felt the prying touch of the Unicorn’s mind tapping against his mental shields. But Seren and the King had taught him well. He knew how to resist the Enchanting.
Théon drew to a halt just out of reach and motioned for Alexan to stay behind her – an order he was all too happy to follow. Silence seemed to stretch for eternity while she waited for the old man to speak.
