Tanith shivered at the thought of all that raw power falling to the Earth, strong enough to demolish the entire center of a mountain. It was no wonder she’d been drawn to it the first day—so close to reaching it herself. It was no wonder Shaw had tried to steer her away from it.
As they zig-zagged up the slope, she noticed carvings in a few of the trees, swirls that looked to be leading the way towards the top—or at least she thought they were.
Riven came to an abrupt stop at a carving painted bright blue. The others hadn’t been made with such care, and Tanith couldn’t see anymore in sight. Hesitantly, she unwrapped her legs and slid down Riven’s back until her feet were on the ground again, nearly slipping back down the incline before the Fae King reached for her hand, holding her in place as the guards also came to a pause.
“We’re close to the mouth,” the silver-haired man dictated, looking around with eager eyes.
Levitka pointed to an unnatural splay of leaves several yards to the left. “There.”
They were scattered everywhere else, but where the guard’s dark finger singled out a thicker pile on the downward slope, Tanith noticed they were in a harsh square shape, very purposely gathered.
Another guard trudged towards it, using his hands to keep from slipping before reaching the leaves and grabbing at them. As though connected, they all moved to reveal a dark cavern, and Tanith noticed the dried leaves all seemed to be woven around and on top of the ropes that made a small net underneath. Gently, the guard laid it aside.
“Don’t let go of my hand. You won’t be able to see once we’re inside,” Riven warned her.
She hesitated at the thought of going in blind. “Can’t I make a torch?”
The king shook his head. “There’s no need. Once we reach the end of the cave; the inner crevice is hollow. Just follow me.”
Taking a deep breath of reassurance, she let him tug her into the black depths. The rocky floor wasn’t all that uneven and Riven made sure she didn’t run into any of the walls, despite the fact that the cave seemed to be narrow. At certain parts, she could feel the fabric of her sleeve snag on the jagged walls and something told her that Riven had to hunch over because there was no way that Ghods would have thought to carve out an entrance large enough to accommodate a nearly seven-foot-tall man.
It felt like they were walking forever, despite the fact that it was only two or three minutes before she saw sunlight marking the end of the cave. Overhead, she could hear bats ruffling their wings, the sound of steady dripping water echoing lowly, and the labored breathing of the tired guards and their heavy boots.
Riven stepped out first, Tanith behind him and nearly sighing in relief at the fact that she could see again before panic seized her.
Ward was there, knife in hand as he slowly crept towards what only could have been the Nihm. It was snow-white with dark red spikes all the way down the middle of its back, and its frighteningly long and thick body was coiled around a gray rock that jutted out of the ground.
Atop it was the Light.
It couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. Not when it looked so otherworldly—so holy to the living eye. It floated a few inches above the rock, a tiny sun that would have glowed brightly enough to light the whole cavern had the sky not already been visible from above. It was a star in its own right, and it called to Tanith.
Towards one end of the rounded walls hung a rope, or rather, several ropes tied together with knots lining the length. Ward must have trekked all the way to the top and lowered himself down. She wondered how he planned on climbing out with the Light in one hand, let alone getting it back to the human lands without being tempted to touch it.
She swallowed and tightened her grip on Riven’s hand before letting go and daring to take a step forward. “Ward!” she whisper-yelled. When the Nihm didn’t move and Ward didn’t stop, she tried again. “Ward! Don’t!”
This time, he craned his head around, almond-shaped brown eyes widening in surprise. He looked between her and the Light. “Stay there!” he ordered quietly.
Tanith heard Riven’s chest rumble behind her in displeasure before he passed her, starting straight towards Ward. She understood then how the qualities of a king ran through his bloodline, because as eager as he was to protect his island—his people—his judgment had also proved to be impaired.
He didn’t know Ward. Didn’t understand that he wasn’t someone who could be charged, and in a panic at the sound of the Fae King’s heavy footsteps storming towards the wide-eyed prince, Tanith watched the Nihm move. Saw its strange, ugly body begin uncoiling itself from its slumber, and watched its head rise from behind the rock, its black, lifeless eyes fixing on the silver-haired man, long jagged teeth bared in warning.
Tanith took a few unconscious steps forward before Levitka’s hand was on her arm, pulling her back as the other guards held their staffs in front of them, throats bobbing nervously.
“Don’t,” the dark-skinned guard muttered lowly. “The beast cannot poison an immortal king.”
She pursed her lips as the Nihm prepared itself for a strike unbeknownst to the two men. Ward had turned his dagger toward the approaching Riven. The silver-haired man may not have been in danger of the Nihm’s poisonous bite, but he did say the creature could eat someone whole, and Ward wasn’t immune.
Tanith saw the hunger in the Nihm’s eyes, watching its mouth salivating as the King neared, and she made her decision. With clenched teeth, she turned sharply and kicked Levitka in the groin, ripping her arm free of his grip as the breath escaped him and sprinting forward.
She didn’t know where she was going. To Ward. To Riven. To the creature. She didn’t have a weapon, but it was too late to turn back. She saw the muscles in the Nihm’s body tighten, watched it widen its jaws as it lunged for the men.
They noticed too late—the frightening teeth coming for them and Ward was frozen in place, Riven reaching to pull him out of the way when Tanith leaped, pushing herself off the ground and diving in front of them, intercepting the Nihm’s attack.
“Tanith!” Ward barked.
Even the king’s immortal speed wasn’t enough to stop her. “No!”
She felt fang piercing flesh, a sharpness in her thigh followed by a burning sensation before she hit the stone, her teeth rattling with the impact. A breathless cry escaped her lips as she looked down to where the Nihm had latched onto her leg, its wide jaws clamping down on her without reserve.
The guards beat their metal staffs on the stone in tandem, approaching slowly, tauntingly. A warning. The Nihm widened its jaw, pulling its teeth out of Tanith’s skin as its body flailed—almost desperately trying to escape the noise—or the guards. She couldn’t tell.
As Riven dropped to the rocks at her side, she watched the Nihm look between them all, fixating on the guards and hissing lowly. It felt threatened. She could tell even through the pain.
The beast was quicker than she thought, but this time, it lunged away, cowering into the depths of one of the caves as Tanith remembered the story of how it came to guard the Light. It had conscious thought. It understood when it was being hunted, and it wanted to live, despite its hunger.
The guards stopped their rhythm and Tanith felt the Fae King’s palms pressing on her wound, trying to stop the blood from flowing. Her green pants were stained crimson, the stone smeared with red.
“It would take another thirty minutes to get a healer here,” one guard said. “Another fifteen to make it back to the palace.”
Riven shook his head, gray eyes wild as he studied Tanith beyond the puncture marks in her thigh. Her brows were drawn together, teeth clenched in pain. “The poison will reach her heart in minutes. The best we can… What the hell are you doing?”
Tanith looked to her right to see Ward with a pillowcase in hand, ready to snatch the Light out of mid-air. “Ward?” she asked in disbelief. “You can’t take the Light off the island. You know what damage it could do.”
Her friend gave he
r a pitiful look. “I’m sorry, Tanith, but I haven’t forgotten our training. None of this is as it seems, and this—the Sight—is going to save us.”
She shook her head as the guards charged him, grabbing him by either arm as he struggled towards the glowing ball—the physical form of immortality.
“Don’t—Ghods, let me go! Don’t try to stop me! Tanith, tell them it has to be done!” Ward pleaded as they put some distance between him and the Light.
Her leg was throbbing, the pain becoming worse as her adrenalin wore off. She didn’t hate him for turning his back on her after protecting him from the attack. He didn’t know the bite was poison. Didn’t know anything other than the fact that he had to complete their mission. She was the same once, despite the fact that she’d refused to leave Kent behind.
“You should take him home,” she said to the guards. “Maybe you could still catch up with Kent and Shaw.”
Ward threw all of his body weight forward in the hopes of freeing himself, but it did no good. “No! You can’t take my memories! I have to get the Sight! Our people depend on it!” he bellowed.
Levitka looked to the king for permission, and with a single nod, they started towards the cave again, dragging him the whole way.
“Don’t do this! Stop! Tanith! We can still grab it! Please, listen to me!”
She shivered, partially in pain. It was like she could feel the poison creeping through her veins, demanding a sacrifice.
“All you have to do is touch it,” Riven told her quickly. “If you put your hand on the Light, it will save you. Any disease, illness, or poison in your body will be the first to go, and then I’ll bring you home to transition.”
Home. She supposed that’s what the palace was now. “The ceremony wasn’t supposed to be for another month,” Tanith breathed. She didn’t say it, but she was supposed to have more time to change her mind. Just in case.
“You won’t live to see next month if you don’t touch it now,” the silver-haired man warned. “You know I’ve been insistent that this decision has to be yours, but I won’t let you die, princess. Not on my watch.”
He wrapped his arm around her and lifted her up until she was wobbling on one foot, the pain worse as she moved. “Just lay a hand on it,” he said, guiding her forward until she was in front of the small stone pillar.
She studied his face in the glow of the Light, his immortal skin flawless—a sense of pride as the fae wore their honesty on their skin. Tanith could never lie again if she touched it. Not without earning a scar as punishment. She’d never see Meelah or her mother. Nor Coatis, or Kent. Not Ward or Ellesmere. But if she didn’t touch it, she’d face the same outcome.
She saw the pleading in Riven’s eyes, felt his arm tighten around her as time was running out. It was the only option left—the only one that would give her a future, so holding her breath, she reached forward and laid her hand on the Light.
It wasn’t solid, but it felt like pure energy buzzing beneath her fingertips—and then it expanded. Tanith flinched as the white Light grew blinding her and engulfing the cavern.
Then there was nothing.
CHAPTER 31
Tanith felt everything.
Every minute that her human bones were cast into living, moving iron—as her body warmed and cooled—sweat and shivered to move along the excruciating process.
She felt so heavy and tired that she didn’t know how many hours or days passed, but sometimes it was so dark she couldn’t see, and others, everything was so unbearably bright and loud. She saw blurry faces above her—hallucinations, she eventually decided. Kenna. Shaw. Riven. Ardeen. Yamra. Ekko. They came and went, their voices pooled together, and at times, she swore she could even hear their hearts beating.
No sickness she ever endured had been so awful, and at certain points, she convinced herself it was only a dream—or perhaps she was being tortured. Every muscle ached, and her head wouldn’t stop pounding as beads of sweat dripped down her skin. The covers felt like they were chains, forcing her to remain in bed without any prospect of when she’d be able to return to the land of the living.
Dead. She was probably dead. Killed by the bite of the Nihm because it chose to eat poison berries when humans were scarce. What a cruel Hell she was in, and she’d only been inches away from the blessing of the Ghods. She should have grabbed it in both hands and accepted the offering. Or had she?
Eventually, her hazy vision fixated on the ceiling, the room so bright she was sure they must have taken out a wall or two so the sun could reach her skin. She blinked before a face appeared above her, smiling.
“Tanith?”
She blinked again. She must have died. There was no other explanation for why Kenna would be standing over her bed, blonde hair gleaming and green eyes hopeful. She was on the other side of the island training with the monks. Not in the palace.
“Can you hear me?” she asked softly.
Swallowing, which was nearly impossible given her parched throat, Tanith sat up and looked around. Her room. Wickenvare. Not hell.
“Kenna?” she wondered, reaching out to touch a strand of silky golden hair. It was real. She was really there.
The maid smiled. “Hi there. I heard you’ve had quite the time without me. If I had known everything would fall apart in my absence, I would have stayed.”
Tanith raised the corner of her lip slightly. “How did it go? Can you shoot fireballs now?”
Kenna shrugged. “If there’s already a fire, sure. I can move it and use it—I can even grow the flames or put it out, but I can’t do something with fire if it isn’t already there.”
“You mean you don’t create fire with a single thought?”
“No,” she answered simply. “So don’t get too excited about me rewarming your bathwater.”
Tanith chuckled, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She smelled pungent. It was like she hadn’t showered in days when she realized that she probably hadn’t. “How long have I been…”
“Transitioning?” Kenna filled in. “A week. Congratulations.” The maid stood and made her way to the vanity, reaching for a handheld mirror and delivering it back to the bed.
Tanith held it up in front of her face, gasping at the sight. It couldn’t have been her. She wasn’t—or was she? Her ears were pointed, teeth sharp, and all the days she lived believing her beauty didn’t compare to Meelah’s were behind her.
Her brown skin was glowing, eyes ringed with gold that wasn’t there before. Her black hair, though messy looked to have grown an inch past her collarbone, and it was softer to the touch than it had ever been. Her brows were full, lips colored and plump, and she didn’t even have on any makeup. The puffiness she usually had in her face when she woke was nonexistent, and she could hear footsteps in the hallway despite the fact that her door was closed.
“I’m…” Beautiful. Fae. She couldn’t decide which.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Kenna asked. “I had orders to bring you to the king when you woke, but I think you could use a good wash first,” the maid admitted, starting towards the bathroom.
Tanith didn’t put down the mirror. Didn’t bother to realize she couldn’t stop looking until a knock sounded on her door. She didn’t even have time to answer before it opened, Shaw’s auburn hair popping through the crack.
“How is she—” He stopped short seeing her sitting up in bed, stepping all the way in, and closing the door behind him as he approached. “You’re awake.”
Tanith laid the mirror beside her. “Amazing observation. How was the drop-off?”
Shaw sighed slightly as he lowered himself to the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. “Kent won’t remember he hates me for doing it, on the plus side. I sent Ward through the barrier right after. He struggled the whole time, but at least the Light is safe. At least you’re safe,” he added.
He studied her quietly for a moment before his hand found her covers. He pinched the mint green fabric and tugged it down to her
knee, lifting the hem of her nightdress to reveal her bare thigh. It was nothing but smooth skin, flawless and radiant without the ugly bite marks Tanith thought she would suffer.
“Fae,” she said simply.
The auburn-haired man nodded. Closing his eyes for a moment. Tanith’s breathing stalled as she watched the tips of his ears elongate into sharp points, his teeth sharpen, and his hair take on an impossible gleam. When he opened his eyes again, the warm brown specks were dotted with green.
“Fae,” he agreed simply.
“Can I do that too?” she wondered.
Shaw shook his head. “Not unless you’re beyond the barrier in the human lands. I can only do it wherever I want since I’m a half-breed.”
She nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry about Kent. You’ve probably been looking forward to having a reunion with your brother for so long and I… Well, I asked you to send him away when there was still time for him to change his mind.”
“It isn’t your fault,” he assured. “I tried to send him home on the boat ride over, remember? There’s nothing either one of us could have done or said to make him betray his loyalty to the human lands. My only fear is what our father will do when Kent returns empty-handed and without any stories to tell.”
Tanith’s skin felt itchy at the thought of her once friend being alone with the callous king. She paused. Furrowing her brows, she lifted the mirror and shoved it in Shaw’s hands. “Hold this,” she ordered, turning around and slipping the nightgown straps off her shoulders. She let it pool at her waist as she craned her head around and pushed it down further, past her tailbone where the scars had once crept up.
Once.
Not anymore. Her mood lifted at the clear skin that waited for her, every mark, scar, and blemish gone.
“It doesn’t erase what happened,” he reminded her regrettably.
“It’s a start,” she answered, smiling at the Admiral. A brand-new start with all new promise. It was all anyone could ask for.
Tanith & Shaw (The Fealty of Firstborns Series Book 1) Page 27
