“Are you all right, child?” Her voice came from a distance.
I nodded, the world slipping sideways. “Fine.” At least, I think I spoke. I was too busy trying to see through the haze surrounding me to be certain. I felt like I should panic, or run, but even as I thought it, I wondered why. There was nothing to worry about. Everything was perfectly fine.
“Bria? Child, are you okay? Perhaps you should lie down.”
TWELVE
I opened my eyes to darkness. Not the kind where the moon was covered by clouds, the kind where there was no light of any sort. I sat up and bolts of fire shot through my head and my body was stiff and cold.
Slowly, the evening came back to me. I had eaten dessert. How had I been so stupid? The meringue was enchanted and now I was somewhere dark and freezing, unable to help Mother.
I shivered. The stone floor beneath me was icy, and my wrap was not thick enough to remove the chill.
“Hello?” My voice was thin, as if the darkness swallowed up sound as well as light.
Other than a distant scream, there was no answer.
I was such a fool. I’d told myself over and over not to eat the food. Fergus had warned me about it. And somehow, the queen had convinced me otherwise.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I pushed myself to my feet, using the stone wall for balance. My head pounded. I swallowed to keep from throwing up.
A circuit of the room told me I was in a small cell, surrounded by three rough-hewn stone walls and one wall of bars—too close together to slip between—that burned like fire when I touched them. “Help me!” Someone had put me here. It stood to reason someone would also guard my escape. If I could speak to them, perhaps I could talk my way out of here. “Hello?”
“Shut. Up!”
The deep male voice came from my left. A guard? A prisoner? I wasn’t sure.
I gripped the metal bars, trying to get closer to him, to hear what he had to say. Pain ripped through my hands. I pulled them away from the bars and stepped back with a hiss. They stung as if I’d fallen into a fire.
“Don’t touch the bars. The iron injures us. They like to suppress our magic.” He spoke fast, his voice flat, and I wasn’t sure he was making sense.
I shook my burning hands. In Iadrun, many families believed it was possible to ward off the fae with iron. My parents thought it was hogwash and refused to have even an iron bar in the cottage, just in case. With Mother being fae, I now understood their reasoning. And it would seem if I’d wanted to be certain of my heritage sooner, touching iron would have confirmed it. “I have to get out of here. There’s been a huge misunderstanding. Can you help me? Please.” Silence stretched out. “Please.” My voice sounded pitiful, and I was moments away from crying. No one knew where I was. “My name’s Bria Tremaine, and I need to save my mother.”
He breathed out a laugh. “Princess Briony Ridgewing, I think you mean.”
I shook my head even though no one could see it. “Oh, no. I’m not a princess.” And a few days ago you were adamant you weren’t fae, a voice inside my head said.
“There’s no misunderstanding. Your aunt has you exactly where she wants you. Be glad you’re still breathing.” His words slurred. Perhaps he wasn’t groggy with sleep, but with that Faery wine the queen had been sipping upon.
Still, I felt the need to defend myself. “The queen is not my aunt. She was friends with my mother many years ago.” That’s what she’d said.
A hiccup turned to rolling laughter. “Deny all you like, little princess, but if it walks like a duck…”
There was no cruelty in the voice. I almost wished there had been. It would have made it easier to hate him. Instead, I hated the words he spoke. “What does that mean?”
More shuffling and the voice grew closer. “I was sitting in my cell when they dragged you down here. I saw you. Even by torchlight, you’re the spitting image of Aoife Ridgewing, our rightful queen. Then there are those ears. No one in the Seelie Court would ever forget those ears.”
By reflex, I put my hands on my ears. The other prisoner couldn’t see them, but that didn’t stop me from being embarrassed by them. I sank down onto the floor, the iciness of the stone biting into my body.
“Everyone thinks you’re dead, little princess. How is it you’re not? And why did your mother kill herself? Why did she leave her tyrant sister to rule us?”
Mother was supposed to be queen? I shook my head. He was wrong. Mother was loyal. And compassionate. That’s why she’d become a healer, because she hated to see people hurt. She would never have run from her duty. She’d never have let someone as cruel as Queen Rhiannon take her place if it meant people would get hurt.
The voice cleared his throat. “Enjoy the time you have left, little princess, because the only way the queen is letting you out of this cell is in a box. And even then, she might not. She’s not overly partial to challenges to her throne.”
“I don’t want to challenge her throne.” I blurted the words before I’d considered them. But it didn’t matter how much I thought about it, I meant it. I didn’t want to be queen. I wanted to return to my old life in Iadrun and bring Mother with me. I didn’t want any part of this fae world.
The voice sighed, and shuffling came from his direction, as if he was settling down to rest. “You are challenging it, little princess. Just by living.”
I lost all track of time in that cell. With no light to mark the passing of the day, I had no idea how long I’d been here. Guards dragged my fellow prisoner from his cell soon after that single conversation. His screams as he left filled my ears long after silence fell.
Guards came and went, but I couldn’t tell how often. Sometimes it seemed as if they’d been there moments before, other times it felt like days between visits. They came in pairs, carrying a reed torch—it was the only time I ever saw any light—food and water, which they pushed silently between the bars. No matter how hard I pleaded with them to let me out, they never responded.
Once, they brought a new prisoner with them, dumping him into the cell beside mine and leaving me in the darkness with only the groans of my new neighbor and the distant screams of other prisoners to keep me company.
The only lighter moments during the following weeks came from my fellow prisoner. He never spoke, but sometimes he’d sing, his deep and melancholic melody rising and falling to block out any noise from other prisoners. Even if his music had been bad, I’d have loved it just because of that. But his songs were the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard.
“Where did you learn to sing like that?” I always asked as his voice faded away. No one sung in Iadrun. No one played music of any sort, not since the Wild Hunt had broken every instrument in the realm when I was a baby. Mother often spoke of the woman who owned Selina’s house before Selina’s parents, and how she used to sing every day. The Unseelie King overheard her and barged into her home, picked her up by her ankles and rode high into the sky. When his horse couldn’t fly any higher, he dropped her to her death. Given how much Mother wanted to keep out of King Aengus’ way, I could no longer believe it was he who’d done such a thing—he would surely have noticed Mother living next door. Some villagers in Holbeck said it was the Wild Hunt who’d come for the woman—before Fergus’ involvement. Whoever it was, the effect was immediate. No one dared sing anymore, unless it was beneath their breath. I was lucky not to have suffered the same fate as our old neighbor for singing the day the Hunt took Tobias.
I thought singing wasn’t allowed in Faery, either.
The man in the next cell never answered and no amount of cajoling could convince him to start again until he was ready, but at least I didn’t feel so alone here when he sang. And I had something to look forward to, even if I never knew when he might next start.
I leaned against the cold stone wall, watching the flickering torch light of the incoming guards growing brighter as the moments drew out, steeling my nerve. I couldn’t stay down here in
definitely, and my only weapons—if I could call them such—were words. Today I planned to embrace what the first prisoner next door had told me. I would tell the guards I was their princess and that keeping me here was treason. I had no idea what counted for treason in Seelie, but my only other escape plan—telling the guards I was good friends with the Unseelie Prince and could get them better work than service to the queen in her dungeons—seemed somewhat flimsy.
The first guard appeared, torch in one hand, two bowls of food balanced in the other.
I stepped up to the bars, my movement catching his eyes. “You have to let me out. I’m your princess.”
The guard’s eyes rounded for a moment, perhaps surprised I’d spoken. “You are nothing of the sort.” Shifting his grip on his torch, he bent and shoved my bowl between the bars, eyes defiant as he stared at me. The bowl hit a bump in the stone and tipped on its side, thick globs of gruel sliding onto the floor. I stared at the willfully inept guard, refusing to do what I desired and lick the food straight from the stone. It was what they wanted to see, and I still had enough pride to refuse.
The guard smirked at me. I turned my head, pretending not to care, but a splashing sound made me turn back. “Whoops.” The second guard put his fingers over his lips, while his other hand poured a steady stream of water from my mug onto the floor. “I spilled it. So clumsy of me.”
My throat was already dry from the small amount of water they gave me each day. A mild sense of panic shot through me at the realization I’d have nothing to drink until they returned. But I’d known bullies all my life, some worse than these guards. I wouldn’t show them how much they hurt me. “No harm done since you will get me a new one.” I gave him a tight smile.
The guard’s laughter was slow and mocking, and once the second guard joined in, they both bent in the middle like I’d told the funniest joke in Iadrun.
The bars of the cell next to mine rattled so hard I jumped. Both guards’ laughter immediately cut off. The one who spilled the water took a step back.
The voice that came from the cell next door was deep and menacing. And far too familiar. “Give her my water.”
The first guard smirked into the other cell. “You mean this water?” He held the other mug high. Then he upended it all over the floor, his eyes locked on the owner of the voice that sounded very much like Prince Fergus Blackwood.
The cell bars rattled so hard it sounded as if they might rip from their hinges. Still the guard smirked. “Keep going, prince. Burn up your hands a little more.”
I closed my eyes, imagining what Fergus’ hands must look like after gripping the iron, knowing how painful mine had been after a light touch.
When Fergus spoke again, it was through clenched teeth. “Get. Her. Some. Water.”
“Or what?” The guard looked down his nose and I wanted to slap the arrogance from his face. “You’re not exactly in a place to bargain.”
“I might surprise you.” Fergus’ voice was a low rumble.
The guard’s expression didn’t change, but he took a step back and turned to the other guard. “Let’s go. I’ve had enough of being stuck down here with these two.” He started to leave and fell on his face. The torch flew from his hand, hitting the floor and plunging my cell and the corridor outside it into darkness.
“Tarryn. You all right?” The other guard’s voice bounced off the stone walls.
“Pick up the torch and light it.” Tarryn’s voice was breathy. I hoped the fall had winded him.
“Can’t find it.” There was a swooshing sound and I could imagine the guard on hands and knees, searching for the dropped light. I hoped that floor was covered in rat droppings. Mushy rat droppings from the water they’d spilled out there.
“Never mind.” A note of terror crept into Tarryn’s voice. His fear made my heart drop into my stomach. “Let’s get out of—” There was another crash, this one accompanied by cursing.
“Tarryn. Are you all right?”
“Fine. I tripped is all. Let’s go.” There was a thud, and a murmured conversation. Then their footsteps disappeared up the distant staircase. They were gone, and we were back to dark silence.
I waited for Fergus to speak. He must realize I knew he was here. He remained quiet, leaving me to open the conversation. “Fergus? What in the stars? Why didn’t you tell me it was you in there? And … why are you here?”
He was quiet for so long, I didn’t expect him to speak. When he did, his voice was thin and lethargic. “I came looking for you.”
My mouth dropped open. “What! Why?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He didn’t sound like himself. He certainly didn’t sound to have the strength he’d shown those guards moments ago.
“Can you get us out of here?” Probably not, since he hadn’t tried in all the time he’d been here.
“No.” A deep sigh came from the cell beside me. “I can’t use my magic down here. The iron in the walls of the cells renders my magic useless. The queen knows I’m no threat. Actually, she probably now knows I still have just enough magic to tie her guard’s laces together and trip him up.”
“You did that?” I hadn’t seen the laces tied together, didn’t know what had caused the guard to fall, but thinking about it made me smile. “He deserved it.”
“Perhaps. But we both pay the price of having no water today.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Bria?”
“Yes.” Something about the way he said my name put me on edge.
“The day Jax brought you here, I went to Unseelie. I spoke to my father. He denied any knowledge of your Mother, so I did some investigating. I believe she’s in a cell, much like these, beneath the Unseelie castle.”
“You believe?” A heavy weight crushed my chest. I’d hoped she had escaped. Or that it had been a misunderstanding, and she was back home already. I hadn’t wanted to think about where else she might be.
“I couldn’t get near the dungeons. But I talked to some people I trust. And they confirmed there is a woman who fits her description down there.” He swallowed loudly. “I’m sorry.”
I leaned my head on my hands. Mother was captured in Unseelie, and I was captured here. Neither of us could help the other. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Why didn’t you tell me the moment you arrived in that cell?
There was another long silence. When he spoke, his voice was weak. “The queen … she wants to make sure I … can’t escape.” The gaps between his words grew longer, his voice quieter. “Apart from the iron in the walls, she’s suppressed my magic in other ways. It makes me feel … tired. I heard your voice, but I … could never answer. Was always too … tired.”
That made little sense. “But you could sing?”
“N-no. I didn’t sing.”
“Yes, Fergus, you did. Often. And it was beautiful.”
“S-sorry. I didn’t realize.” His words slurred together.
“What changed? Today, I mean. For you to yell at the guards.”
The silence drew out, and I thought he’d drifted off to sleep. “Heard your voice. Saw them taunt you. Had to help. Couldn’t … stop … myself.”
He slept after that for what seemed like the longest time. The next time I heard him moving in his cell, I said, “Fergus? Are you awake?”
“Mm-hmm.” He didn’t sound very awake, but that was too bad. I’d come up with a plan during the hours he was sleeping, and I needed his help to put it into action. “Can you show me how to use magic?” If I could learn it, if I really had my own magic, then maybe I could get us out of here.
Silence followed, and I suddenly wondered if he might decline to help. Instead, a scratching came from his cell and light flared. Long shadows filled my cell. “Whoa. Is that magic?” Of course it was. What else would it be? “Teach me how to do that.”
He chuckled quietly, and it sounded delightful. It was a relief to hear him laugh. “Not magic. But I used magic to drag the guard’s torch
and flint into my cell.”
I laughed. “You sound a little better today. Are you?” His voice was firmer, and he seemed more coherent. If he was getting stronger, perhaps he could beat the spell on him. Perhaps he could use his magic to get us out.
“A little. For a while, at least.” I took his words for what they meant. He would help me while he felt okay, but it might not be for long. “It’s easier to learn magic when it’s light. And normally, learning isn’t difficult. You just imagine it, and it happens. Down here, you must concentrate. A lot.” Because of the iron in the walls.
It was okay, I was prepared for this to be difficult. “I just think something, and magic will make it happen?”
“More or less. But start small. Maybe try moving your food bowl without touching it.”
I tried. It remained where it lay. “I can’t do it.”
“You’re overthinking it. Talk to me as you try. Sometimes that helps.”
I glared at the wall. Concentrate but don’t overthink. Fine, if he wanted a conversation, he’d get one. I drew in a breath and asked a cowardly question. Cowardly because I wanted to know more about the Hunt rather than his role in it. I just couldn’t bring myself to ask. “What would happen if your father found out about your double life?”
There was silence in the other cell that could have been him considering an answer, but I knew he’d thought about this. He knew exactly what would happen. “If he didn’t kill me on the spot for lying to him all these years, he’d strip me of my name and title and send me to the Army of Souls.”
“The Army of Souls?”
“They fight against the Seelie army at our border. They are the worst fae in the Unseelie kingdom. They have no morals. I’d rather be dead than go there.” He was silent a moment. “Father uses the Wild Hunt to restock the slaves that service that army.”
I blinked. That was the question I’d been too scared to ask. “You steal humans to put them in an army too horrid for even you to be part of?”
Kingdom of Yesterday's Lies (Royals of Faery Book 1) Page 15
