by May Dawson
“What if he’s not the only threat to Tera’s life?” Rian asks. “We can interrogate him. In the morning when we’re all sharp.”
Devlin snorts at that, as if he’s skeptical there’s ever such a time.
Devlin doesn’t seem one bit surprised to see that a man has attacked me, and it raises questions for me. His face is placid as he leans over Moirus, then pulls up Moirus’ sleeve as if he’s looking for something. “I’d like to be included in that interrogation. This man is one of my citizens, after all.”
Mycroft moves across the floor to examine the mark on Moirus’ arm.
Devlin looks up to me. “It’s a Vasilik prison tattoo.”
“Of course he would be a Vasilik,” Airren mutters.
Devlin looks up at Airren and smiles. “And how is your family, Airren?”
Airren glances away. His family is Vasilik nobility. No wonder he hates Devlin. I want to know if Airren’s family is safe, but Airren would never want to discuss something so personal in front of so many people.
“They’re well,” Airren says, his voice cool and controlled when he locks eyes with Devlin. “I hope they’ll continue to be so.”
“I’m sure they will,” Devlin says smoothly. “My father has no problem with the vast majority of former nobility as long as they don’t cling too tightly to their power.”
That’s not what Julie suggested earlier.
“I don’t want to talk about Vasilik,” Rian interrupts. “We have enough problems within these four walls right now.”
Devlin inclines his head, breaking away from the increasing heated tension between him and Airren.
“Here’s what we will do,” Rian says. “I’ll have the prisoner removed to the cells. In the morning, we’ll meet in interrogation room 1 in the cells. Seven?”
“If you insist,” Mycroft says.
“I do,” Rian says. “And in the meantime, someone will stay with Airren as the potion wears off, and someone will stay with Tera in case there is any further attack…”
“I’ll stay with Airren,” Mycroft says, quickly enough to hurt my feelings. He doesn’t mind taking me to the mats, but he doesn’t want to be in the same room as me at night. What does he think will happen? Does he think that I won’t be able to resist him, that I’m going to try to take him to bed? There’s not a chance when he’s so cold.
“I’ll stay with Tera,” Cax says, flashing me a smile that warms my heart and eases some of my tensions. “If she doesn’t mind me.”
It’s better than having him sleep in the hallway, as sweet as that was.
“And I guess we’ll entertain ourselves,” Devlin says. His eyes meet mine. “You know, I could also be of service.”
“She doesn’t need Vasilik help,” Mycroft says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “She has us.”
“Oh?” Devlin’s gaze meets Airren’s again.
Airren’s jaw tenses. Then, as if he’s made a purposeful decision to ignore Devlin, he rises and carries the carafe of spiced wine to a potted plant, where he pours it out.
“Everyone out,” Cax says, shooing the nobility of two kingdoms—and the miner’s son—toward the door.
“Release his bonds,” Mycroft says, nodding to Moirus. Cax mutters the words of the spell, the one he isn’t supposed to know as a student. Mycroft gathers Moirus over his shoulders easily, no matter how big the other man is. Moirus’ hands hang loose, his face slack, as Mycroft carries him toward the doors.
Devlin and Rian both look at me as if they don’t want to leave, but they follow Mycroft out.
Airren hesitates at the door. He’s still keyed up, his movements quick and irritated, but his clear blue eyes meet mine. “Tera. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“I’m never scared of you,” I promise. I’m scared sometimes when I’m with him, but it’s usually because I’m scared of disappointing him. And sometimes, it’s just because our life is terrifying.
“Even when you should be.” His lips start to tilt up. That’s my Airren, in there still.
I think of what Rian said, that the spell can turn someone murderous. Is it Airren’s sense of honor and duty that saved me? Or his love for me?
Airren looks at me as if he wants to say something else, and then instead, he suddenly hugs me. As his powerful arms fold me into his warm chest, I can feel his heart beating against my cheek. I loop my arms around his waist, squeezing him back.
The tears suddenly prickling at my eyes surprise me. It’s a sweet hug, the kind that isn’t about lust at all, but about deep, unshakeable affection. It’s his love that saved me, that gave him the strength to overcome the spell.
The thought takes my breath away. I’ve wanted to be loved like this for so long.
It’s a love that’s bigger than magic.
“Good night,” Airren murmurs into my ear, his voice low and warm. He squeezes me one more time, then abruptly turns away, heading out the door.
“Good night,” I say, my voice low and husky.
When the door closes between us, it’s just Cax and me. The room feels so quiet and empty after all the chaos of the day. I look at the bed on the dais, with the crumpled sheets. It doesn’t seem like I could ever go to sleep in here.
“I don’t know how he got in here,” I say after a second. “I should’ve said something earlier.”
“Do you want to sleep somewhere else?” Cax asks me.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.”
But I’ve felt that way so many times before. Sleep always comes again.
Cax ambles around the room. I head for the closet; it had been replenished while I was dancing earlier, by the same people who make the bed and pile soft, new towels in the bathroom. I wonder what the castle servants think about serving the dark lord’s daughter, or the prince of Vasilik, for that matter.
Cax strokes his jaw absently, lost in thought as he stares at the art on the wall. Irritation flares in my chest. I don’t know what I want from him, but I desperately want him to do something. I’m so restless right now that my muscles ache.
Cax holds his hands out toward the art, murmuring the words of a spell. To either side of the unlit fireplace, beneath the paintings, are elaborately carved wooden panels, trimmed in gilt. Something draws him forward, and his fingers trace the dark wooden trim.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, all of my irritation falling away. It was never him that I was annoyed at, anyway. I hate how this night ended, and the furor of emotions that I feel after coming face-to-face with Moirus again.
“There’s something here,” he says.
A panel clicks open under his fingertips. It’s barely indented from the wall, and when he pushes it, a half-door swings forward into what seemed like solid wall.
“How did Moirus know that was there?” I demand.
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “And I’d like to know where it leads, and who else knows.”
“Do you think Rian knows there are hidden passageways through his castle?” Bony fingers of dread glide down my spine at the thought that Rian would have a secret like that, that there would be tunnels that lead to my room…
“Let’s find out,” Cax says. He quickly creates two bubbles, one for Mycroft and one for Rian, and then casts them into the air. They shimmer in the air as they float from his hand to the door, and then flatten to work their way through the door frame.
While he’s concentrating, I push open the door, ducking inside. The passageway is narrow; exposed wooden beams are rough under my fingers as I strain my eyes through the darkness. I can’t see what’s ahead of me. I glance toward Cax, just as he looks away from his bubbles.
“Oh no,” he says. “Airren would kill me. And Mycroft would get his powers back, re-animate me, and murder me all over again—”
“That’s the one thing magic can’t do,” I say impatiently.
“Your assurance I can only be murdered once isn’t as persuasive as you think.”
“Just give me some light,
Cax. We won’t go far.”
Despite his words, there’s an eager, curious light in Cax’s eyes. The man lives for drama and a good mystery; of course he wants to explore the tunnels, just as I do.
He sighs. “I’ll unlock the door. The cavalry should be on their way.”
As he makes his way across the room to unlock the door for the two men coming in behind us, I ask, “You trust Rian?”
“Don’t you?” He flips the lock, cracks the door open an inch, then turns back, brushing his flop of blond hair back from his face.
“Yes,” I admit, but I can’t help wondering if I’ve misunderstood him terribly. If he knows about these passageways…
“The prince seems like an idiot, but he’s one of the good guys, too, I’m sure of it.” As Cax rejoins me, he raises his palm. His fingers waggle until, like a party trick, light blooms across his fingers. “Not all of the good guys can be clever.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Rian says drily, and the two of us turn to find him standing in the doorway.
“Your highness,” Cax says, nonplussed even though he’s just been caught calling the future king an idiot.
Rian’s eyes sharpen at the sight of the panel open behind Cax. There’s a flash of genuine surprise and horror across his face before it’s replaced by his cool polish.
He curses, raking his hand through his hair as he turns away. “I’m sorry, Tera. I wouldn’t have put you in here if I’d known…” His jaw sets. “My father gave me this castle for my last birthday. I knew he was spying on me, but I didn’t know it went this far.”
“Your father’s spying on you?”
His face is suddenly closed-off; he’s said too much.
“I’ll have it boarded up,” he promises.
“First, let’s map where it goes.” Cax rifles across the writing desk in one corner of the room, plucking up pen and paper.
Mycroft barrels into the room, his wand in his hand, his posture tense and ready for a fight.
“Hi,” Cax says lightly. “Interesting new development.”
A few minutes later, the four of us move quickly through the tunnels. There are multiple hidden doors into various rooms. Most interesting of all, narrow ladders allow passage up or down throughout the castle. There’s a door into the stables, and another into the prince’s apartment
The four of us emerge into Rian’s bedroom. He stares around at the lavish room, looking as if it’s suddenly unfamiliar to him. The realization startles me, as it must have him: not only have spies had access to him, but so have assassins. His father has gambled Rian’s life for the sake of information.
And I thought I had daddy issues.
“I want you to find my father’s spies,” Rian says to Mycroft, quiet authority in his voice. “All of them.”
“I’m retired, your majesty,” Mycroft says, his eyes darting to me.
Not that retired, not when they have a mission—a burden?—like me.
“We all know you’ll be back in service when you graduate,” Rian says airily. “You can begin now.”
He’s taking this in stride, and yet I have the sense of trembling sadness beneath. I touch his arm, wanting to comfort him, and he shoots me a quick, uncertain smile.
“Tonight, we’re going to make sure these tunnels really do get sealed up,” Mycroft says. “If Moirus knows about these tunnels, who knows who else does?”
Cax and Mycroft begin to discuss logistics as the prince wanders through his bedroom door and out into the main apartment. I follow him, leaving their rumbling voices behind.
He leans against the balcony railing. His posture seems as relaxed as ever, his broad shoulders silhouetted by the moonlight.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Not really,” he admits. “It’s an unsettling thing.”
As I reach the railing next to him, the beautiful view unfolds beneath me; the gardens and pool are spread out far below us. Dark water ripples softly, tranquilly in the pool. There’s a faint whispering sound from the many potted plants and flowers as the breeze moves through them, and I shiver.
Rian slips his jacket off casually and slings it over my shoulders.
I press my hand over the fine fabric, catching the lapel of the jacket against my chest so it won’t slip off my shoulder onto the floor. “You don’t have to be gallant. You have bigger things on your mind.”
“Maybe I need a distraction,” he says. Absently, he begins to fold the sleeves of his cuffs up, revealing muscular forearms, as if he wishes he could do something. “I’m going to have to bide my time, to figure out what he knows—”
He breaks off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. You’re a bit too easy to talk to, Tera.”
“I’ll keep your secrets,” I promise him, sure that he has some.
“You are my secret,” he says, a fond smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “One of them, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing I won’t get much of an answer.
There’s more to Rian than the playboy everyone sees. I’m sure of it.
For some reason, I can’t help but think of the view from the tunnel passageway into Rian’s bedroom, what those spies might’ve seen. From the way Rian is always surrounded by thirsty girls, it could be quite the show.
“How many other secrets have girls’ names?” I tease him, wanting to lighten the moment from his father’s betrayal.
“None,” he says, and there’s a note of truth in his voice. “I know it’s stupid. Maybe it’s because of what happened to you, as much as my childhood crush. But there’s only one girl I want.”
“You’re right. That is stupid.”
When he throws his head back and laughs, dropping all reserve, it warms my heart. He’s charming with everyone. He’s real with me. The sudden lightness between us feels like a welcome release from the tensions of the night.
When he looks back down at me again, he’s still smiling.
I catch his shoulders in my hand, drawing him down to me. Without hesitation, his palm slides up my jaw and wraps around my cheek. My lips graze his, tentatively.
The prince of Avalon kisses me back like he’s waited twelve years for that kiss.
Chapter 24
Given that the castle has a dungeon, I’d expected Interrogation Room 1 to be a throwback to an older, more terrifying time. I expected to walk into a dark space with a rack and rows of torture equipment, and the thought was terrifying.
But Interrogation Room 1 is just a small conference room with a table and a few straight-back chairs. It’s brightly lit. It seems Rian keeps everything in his little sphere of the kingdom neat and carefully organized.
“Come on,” Cax says, resting his hand on my shoulder and tugging me gently out toward the door. “We can watch from next door.”
“She can stay if she wants,” Devlin says easily from behind us. “She enrages Moirus, maybe it will help to have her in the room.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cax says.
Devlin studies him. “You want to protect her.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
Mycroft and Airren come in just then.
Airren starts to say something to Cax, then he glances at Devlin, and his face shifts.
Devlin’s lips part in amusement, as if he knows the secret they’re trying to keep from him. But that expression is just a quick flash across his face, and then it’s gone, replaced by his usual bland smugness. The sparks of his personality I catch in glimpses make me frown. I can’t make sense of Devlin.
“Come, Tera,” Rian says from the doorway. “You can watch with me from the next room. I’ll need your counsel to judge Neal.”
Airren’s lips tighten in frustration—he wants Moirus Neal dead and buried, my magic restored—but he gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze as he nods to me.
Rian and I go into the next room, along with Devlin and Cax. This room is larger than the interrogation room, comfortable and pleasant with couches a
nd chairs all turned toward the long windows that overlook the interrogation room. Along a table at the back of the room, a rich breakfast buffet has been laid out, and the room smells like fresh coffee and doughy bread.
“May I get you anything?” Rian asks, and I shake my head. It doesn’t matter how delicious it all smells. My stomach is tight.
I’m this close to never having to wake up again in the middle of the night, startled awake by my fear that Moirus Neal will find me again. I’m this close to having my magic back. To belonging in Avalon.
But what will it cost? Avalon doesn’t need more bloodshed.
He nods and takes a seat, gesturing to the comfortably cushioned arm chair next to him. I sit at the end of it, and I don’t realize how stiff I am until he rests his hand on my knee.
“It’s going to be all right, Tera,” Rian tells me. “You’re the one in control here. Just tell me what you want.”
I don’t feel like I’m in control. Moirus brings up all the feelings of being a trapped fourteen-year-old girl fighting for my life. I could drown in the fear that rises in my chest every time he’s near.
“Thank you,” I tell Rian. He’s being kind to me, very kind, and I don’t think it’s just for the sake of an ancient crush. I think he’s a really good man.
Two guards bring Moirus in.
Airren takes the seat across from him; Mycroft leans against the wall, his posture tense and angry. Good cop, bad cop. No matter how irritated Airren was before, no matter how much he wants Neal dead, he sounds friendly and professional. Meanwhile, Mycroft’s caged aggression isn’t exactly hidden even though he’s motionless against the wall. It looks like he’s waiting for an excuse.
“Tell me your side of this story,” Airren says.
“I’ve always been a thief,” Moirus says. “Might as well be honest about that.”
“Might as well. It’s not what’s got you locked away now.”
“Well, it is, in a way,” Moirus says. “I just wanted the girl to help me to steal from the prince. If he’s going to bring the dark lord’s daughter into the castle, the one who destroyed so many lives, he might as well pay for it.”
