A Kingdom of Iron & Wine : New Adult Fantasy Romance (The Ironworld Series Book 1)

by Candace Osmond

  Julie must have noticed me staring at them. “When in Ironworld, the Shades are invisible, even without a glamor. To the untrained eye, they aren’t even there.” She hung her heavy coat on the hooks by the door, and our three guests turned their heads toward us. “But the fact that you can see them means your Sight is getting stronger.”

  “I’m still not sure if that’s good or bad,” I mumbled as I made my way to the couch and plopped down.

  Moya shifted in her seat, folding one long olive-green pant leg over the other. She wore a tight golden corset over the silky slacks, baring her arms, and I admired the way her otherworldly skin tone caught the lamplight. “It’s good, darling. Don’t worry.”

  “I bet the person hunting me down thinks so, too,” I guffawed.

  “There’s no talk in the Seelie kingdom about an Oracle or anyone seeking one,” was her answer. “And I tracked Mabry’s movements for days. Nothing is happening there. She’s just a madwoman on a throne, terrorizing her kingdom. She has no interest beyond that.”

  One of the Shades stood behind the couch. “Oliver reported nothing from the Winter border. They’re silent.”

  “Why just the border?” I asked while also wondering how to tell which one was Aya and which was Brie. I had to come up with some tell. “Why didn’t he enter the Territory?”

  Julie sat down in the poofy chair across from us. “The Winter Lord is an old, paranoid crank who goes to great lengths to protect his Territory from Mabry’s reach. It’s heavily guarded and warded, and no one even knows how to actually enter.”

  The other twin sidled up to her sister. “You must be invited and then guided to the palace through secret passageways.”

  “So, we have nothing?” I asked, my heart sinking.

  “I might have stumbled upon something,” Lattie spoke up, and we all turned our attention on her. “It’s not much, but it’s something. A few Summer Fae said they heard whispers of Evaine spending an awful lot of time in the Territory of Nightmares.”

  Everyone, except for me, exchanged a knowing glance. My shoulders touched my ears. “What does that mean?”

  Julie looked at me with such deep pity that I wondered just how bad this dark Territory was. “It can only mean one thing, Av’. That the one who’s hired Evaine to hunt you down isn’t Mabry. It’s the Dark Lord of Nightmares. The question now is why.”

  A memory tickled the front of my mind, and I leaned forward. “When Evaine cornered me outside the gallery that night, she said something….” I struggled to remember the exact words. “Something like he’ll be so glad I’ve found you.”

  Moya only had to look at her sisters, and they gave her a dutiful nod. “We’ll do some spying in the Dark Territory.”

  And then they were gone. As if they’d never been there to begin with.

  “Okay, question,” I said. “How do I tell them apart?”

  Julie and Moya laughed, but it was Julie that answered, “I had a hard time at first, too. Aya is slightly taller, not by much. Like maybe an inch. And Brie has a scar above her right eyebrow.”

  Moya stood from the couch and adjusted her stylish corset. “I think what we need to focus on is learning more about your abilities, Avery.”

  “How do we do that?” I spoke. “I don’t even know anything about them.”

  She exchanged a look with Julie, and my best friend gave a nod of approval. Moya smiled at me. “I think it’s time we pay a visit to The Blood Reader.”

  ***

  Apparently, the Blood Reader was an ancient being that could tell your past, present, and future just from a drop of your blood. And, as it turned out, we could find him in The Black Market, an eclectic storefront downtown that sold things like hemp sweaters and fake shrunken heads and every type of incense you could imagine. But, as I stood quietly while Moya spoke with the shopkeeper, I realized it was all just a front to hide the real Black Market.

  We headed for the back through a thick beaded curtain, and Moya led me to an old wooden door hinged with thick iron. She yanked it open, and immediately I was met with sights and sounds and smells, unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

  Tables and booths stretched on as far as the eye could see, all lined and huddled in a farmer’s market fashion. It must have been another strange pocket in reality. Because, according to the exterior of the mundane building, we should have been standing in a storage room.

  Creatures of all kinds mozied about, shopping and bartering with merchants. Humanoid Fae, trolls, dwarves of some sort, and tiny pixies busied the market carrying bags and crates of goods. As we walked, I noted the various goods from each merchant.

  Delicious soups and stews, dangling chains beaded with glowing jewels, skinned and headless animals curing over vats of things steaming. The air smelled of a mix between sweet and sour and… something else. Something I’d come to know. The static tinge of magic.

  “What is this place?” I said, awestruck.

  “It’s The Black Market of Ironworld. Solitaries and other creatures mingle here to trade and buy goods. Things they need but could only get in Faerie. Most merchants grow or make their goods, but other stuff, hard to get stuff, is smuggled in daily.”

  Moya led me to a private booth near the quieter back end of the market. She moved aside a thick black curtain to find a sightless being–its eyes long gouged from its head, grayed leathery skin covered all that I could see. It was sitting diligently at a table. Alone. As if it were waiting for us. A devilish sneer upturned its red-stained mouth as its long, boney fingers splayed across the table. I noted how they were stained. As if dipped in blood and had been left to dry for a century or two.

  “Moya Seaborn.”

  “Hello, Reader,” she greeted sternly. I kept tucked to her side.

  “It’s been a while since we last spoke. How have you been, dear? Still wandering the Summer lands, or have you returned to the water?”

  Moya held a terse expression. “I made my choice many years ago, you know that.”

  I wondered then about her past. I knew she’d fled the sea centuries ago. But why?

  “Have you come to ask me a way home?” the Reader pried.

  She pressed her lips together. “I have no need to return to the depths of my birthplace, Reader. Now stop taunting. I’m here to elicit your services.”

  The creature leaned back in its chair, sniffing the air as it did so. “You request a reading?”

  “Yes,” Moya replied and motioned to me. “For my friend here.”

  “I require payment.”

  Moya flicked a strange-looking coin onto the table.

  The Blood Reader shot from its chair, and I saw how it only wore a tattered pair of pants. Its bare feet paddled over, and it inhaled the air around me. A long, grotesque breath. It took my hand and mulled it in its own in a flash with long, scratchy fingers. Dragging those bloodied nails over my tender flesh.

  “Come sit.”

  I obeyed and took the seat across from it at the table while Moya hung around the flap of the curtain door. The Reader took my hand again and moved with lightning speed as its arms swept over the surface of the round, wooden table. With one of its sharp nails, it sliced a gash across my palm. I gasped in pain, but one look at Moya’s staid expression told me this was to be expected.

  The Blood Reader squeezed the edges of my hand until crimson oozed to the surface, and it took a long, generous swipe with a finger before bringing the taste to its mouth. I tried to hide my cringe of disgust and remained quiet as the creature worked. Those pitless eyes stared into the abyss of nothingness as it leaned back, its face slack. After a moment, its blank expression became animated once more, and it faced me.

  “I cannot Read you.”

  Moya put both hands on the table. “Why not?”

  The creature sized me up with an unnerving hunger. “The girl’s blood is… new.”

  “New?” I croaked. My throat was parched. “You mean young? I’m only eighteen.”

  The Reader
shook its obscure, bald head. “No, no, dear girl. You are… new. But old.” It cocked its chin to the side. “Your blood is not human nor Fae. It’s something else entirely.”

  Then it was true. The weight of it pressed down on me. I really was this apparent Oracle. A human with a magical ability. I swallowed nervously and glanced up at Moya. She motioned to the door. It was time to go.

  She opened the flap of the tent for me and turned to flick another coin toward the Reader. “For your discretion.”

  We exited the tent and emerged back into one of the busy alleyways of the Black Market. I fixed my distant gaze on a nearby booth where a Fae woman with skin of darkened bark spun glittering lengths of glowing wool into spools. I focused on it, letting the image of it anchor me in place because every inch of me wanted to drift away. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself.

  Moya placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “At least now we know for sure.”

  “Know what?” I balked, my gaze still distant. “What we already knew?”

  “What we suspected,” she corrected me, and something about her tone actually stilled my nerves. “Now that we know for certain, we can move forward. I think a trip to the Territory of Dreams is in order. Spend some time combing the archives. See what we can find…”

  As the sound of Moya’s voice trailed off, making way for the sudden pounding pulse that filled my ears, I fixed my crazed stare at a booth near the end of the alleyway. Away from most patrons, those close enough hissed and cowered away from the man standing there, exchanging money with a merchant. A man with hair as black as night, a shape and stance I’d never mistaken. Not in a million years because I knew it. I knew him.

  I watched with clenched fists as Cillian paid the human-looking merchant a wad of cash and was handed a small crate of something. My heart skipped a beat when I realized what was inside it. When Cillian lifted a blood bag to his lips. At the same time, I felt fresh blood dripping down my wrist, oozing from the wound the Reader had inflicted.

  Cillian halted and sniffed at the blood bag curiously, then sniffed at the air around him until his eyes found mine across the market and widened in horror. He dropped the basket and sped over to where I stood with Moya, who was still droning on about a trip to the Territory of Dreams.

  I tensed and slowly shook my head. Unable to tear my unblinking stare from Cillian as he approached. Heaving breaths burned in my chest.

  “Avery, what’s the matter?” Moya noted and then hissed at Cillian as he came to a halt mere inches from us. With a protective hand, she shielded me. “You’ve no business here, vampire.”

  I cringed inwardly at the word.

  He glared daggers at her. “My business is where I put it.” His tone was clipped, but it softened as he looked at me pleadingly. “Avery, what the hell are you doing there?”

  Moya, confused, glanced between us. “You know this man?”

  Words were like ghosts on my tongue as my eyes locked on those deep pools of blue, a blue I’d come to love so, so much. They felt like betrayals to me now, shiny bait used to lure me in. I shook my head. “No, I–I…don’t know him at all.”

  Pain flashed across his beautiful face.

  I managed to back away, tugging at Moya’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

  She asked no questions, only turned and fled the market with me. I didn’t look back, didn’t see if he stood and watched me go. But part of me knew…he did. I could practically feel his pained stare clawing at my back with every step I put between us. But he never followed.

  We made it all the way home, and if Moya had spoken a word the whole way back, I wouldn’t be able to note a single one of them. For my mind was elsewhere. Gone. She left me at the door, and I entered the apartment, brushing past Julie with a murmured excuse of being tired and that I’d explain in the morning. I bolted for my bedroom, where I clasped on my bed in a fit of silent tears.

  Not only had I learned that I truly was some sort of mortal Seer with a dangerous Fae after me, but I also discovered that the first guy I’d ever liked was actually a–I could hardly bring myself to even think of the word.

  A… vampire.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I don’t think I’d closed my eyes the entire night. I feared Cillian would appear at my windowsill. Even as the sun cleaved the sky, I still lay there, restless. Too shell-shocked to allow myself to sleep. I lay in the sun for hours as my mind spun with thoughts. Pouring over every single encounter I’d had with Cillian and revisiting them all in a new light. How he seemed to just appear out of nowhere and always seemed to know where I was or when to show up. How he’d bolted the second I’d cut my finger at the sushi place. And then… how I’d only ever seen him at night. Another thought occurred to me.

  Celadine.

  They were siblings, which meant… was she a vampire, too? My beloved mentor. My friend. How could she be a viscous, soulless creature of the night? As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the truth had been there the whole time.

  Celadine only worked nights. Was painfully beautiful, just like her brother. Pale skin that always felt like a cold doctor’s touch. So, it was true. Celadine and Cillian Danes were vampires. And I’d been a fool enough to put myself right in their path. Was this how they lured their prey? With smiles and friendship. With seductive whispers and loving touches?

  The thought made me want to vomit.

  I heard the apartment’s front door open, and I stole a glance at the clock by my bed. Julie was home from school already? I peeled the blankets off with great effort and headed out to the apartment.

  “You stayed home today?” She swept the thick strap of her bag over her head and set it down on the floor.

  I nodded tiredly and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Yeah.”

  Julie watched me with a careful look. “Av’, is this about what the Blood Reader said? Do you want to talk–”

  The front door blew open, and Max barged in, so fast and furious that I hardly had time to process the anger wrought on her face. “You better be fucking dying!”

  “Woah!” Julie leaped between us, and Max shot her a venomous look.

  “What the hell, Max?” I squeaked. “You can’t just burst into someone’s home like that–”

  She looked me up and down. “Two arms, two legs, I assume a god damn heartbeat!” She shoved at my chest. “Where have you been all day? I called you a million times!”

  I turned my phone off last night. And then it hit me. A deep, regrettable sigh washed over me. “Shit… the project.”

  Max’s crazed eyes widened, bulging with the whites of them. “Yeah, shit the project! We were supposed to present today. Together.”

  “Max, I’m so sorry,” I said with all honesty. I felt like the lowest low.

  “Don’t bother,” she said and flung up a hand. “This is why I don’t do group projects. This is why I never put my shit in someone else’s hands.” She shook her head with a disgusted chortle. “People just always fucking let you down.”

  She spun on her heel and slammed the door on her way out, knocking one of the pictures clean off the wall where it smashed to the floor. Julie immediately fetched the garbage can, and I walked over to help, my limbs stiff with the aftershock of hurricane Max.

  We picked up the bits of glass and metal in silence, but after a few painfully quiet beats, Julie said quietly, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

  “Max and I were supposed to present our modern art and architecture project to the class today,” I replied. “The prof had some of the top designers in the industry come to sit in, too. I think… I think Max was actually looking forward to it.”

  “So, why didn’t you go?” Julie asked. “Doesn’t seem like something you’d forget.”

  Frustration burned in my gut as I stood up. “I’m just… it’s a lot, Jules.” I couldn’t fend off the tears that swelled in my eyes.

  Without a second thought, my best friend swept me into a tight embrace, and I melted in her arms.
“I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” I leaned back and swept a finger under each eye.

  “For waiting so long to tell you what I suspected,” she replied and let go of me to discard the refuge from the broken picture. “I’d had a hunch for years, but I was so worried to say anything. First, I thought, well, what if I was wrong? Then I thought, what if I’m right and you get so scared that you never want to be my friend again.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I spent so long worrying over whether I should tell you that it just got to the point where it was too late. We’d been friends for years, and I didn’t want to do anything to risk that. So,” she shrugged, “I waited. To see if you’d figure it out on your own.”

  I managed a lazy smile. “The wine helped.”

  “Yeah, I may have nudged you from time to time.” She took a shaky breath.

  “Listen, Jules. No matter what’s happening or what we might discover about this ability I have, just know that nothing will ever change our friendship. I promise.” Her whole body seemed to relax, and my heart squeezed at the thought of my friend harboring any worry over the friendship we had. It was staid. A constant. “Please never doubt that. I think I just need some time alone. Preferably in bed.” I rustled up a chuckle to lighten the mood. “My puny mortal brain just takes a while to process it all.”

  Julie laughed. “Well, don’t take too long. There’s so much I want to show you.”

  I nodded and grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around myself as I headed for my bedroom. “And I can’t wait to learn more about your world. In time.”

  I reached my door as Julie said, “It’s your world, too, you know.” I glanced back at her. “You belong to it just as much as I do.”

  With a tired sigh over a thankful grin, I turned the knob and disappeared into my room. Because I couldn’t let her know that my sour mood had nothing to do with her world or my newfound abilities and had everything to do with the fact that the guy I’d been seeing turned out to be a predator. I needed time to reel.