Mark of Truth (Wicked Kingdoms Book 1)

by Graceley Knox

  Stupid bitch maid. I’m going to be covered in bruises when this is all over.

  She’ll get hers for turning me over to Cashel. I’ll make sure I get my licks in before she’s handed over to the goblins she betrayed. They aren’t known for keeping prisoners.

  Once we are all through the door into the Light Elven Kingdom, Cashel reaches past Arradel and swirls his hand, muttering in that language again, until the click of the latch signals the sealing of the door. He turns back, and our glances met. I give him as much of a cold stare as I can muster considering I can’t move.

  “Ah, my love, you look so beautiful lying this way, waiting for me. I do hope you will look as beautiful underneath me once we are wed,” Cashel caresses my hair.

  A chill sweeps through me, and I hold back a gag at his touch. My vision starts to go black again from the drugs and my rough treatment. Before I fade out, I have one final thought.

  No way in hell will I ever lie under this creep. I’d rather die first.

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  My limbs and my body feel weightless, as if I’m floating on a cloud. I wake up slowly and keep my eyes shut. Muscle by muscle, I take stock of my body. I don’t feel super fuzzy anymore, but that could just be because I took a nap—and by nap I mean that stupid maid whacked my head off of a rock one too many times and I was finally unable to stay awake any longer. Rude cow. I keep my eyes closed. I hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing and running water. I squint open one eye and take in my surroundings. I’m in the middle of a bedroom, and judging by the wardrobes across the room, the jewels and opulent furnishings, a royal bedroom. Cashel’s chambers.

  Shit. Not good. The clock on the wall reads ten. But is it p.m. or a.m.? How long was I sleeping?

  Leaning up on my elbows, I see a waterfall with water pooling at the bottom. Steam rises from it. Only in Faerie could there be a waterfall in the middle of someone’s bedroom. Only in Faerie.

  I try to sit up fully but drop back on my hands as a wave of dizziness hits me. Massaging one temple, I balance my weight on my other hand and try to wiggle my toes. They move. Yes! My legs work now. That’s a definite check in the positive column. I bring my feet together and pull them toward me, my knees bowing out to the sides. I lower my torso over my calves and take a deep breath. Stretching out, I take stock of what is simply sore and what I might need to baby for a few days.

  My head feels like thousands of pixies are dancing behind my skull, but my legs seem to be working fine. The arm that she used to drag me here feels like the muscles are on fire in my shoulder. My wrist and forearm seem to be just be bruised with her handprints.

  Now that the nausea has passed, I spring from the bed, determined to find a weapon so I can make my escape from crazy town sooner rather than later.

  I find some food stashed away, hope it’s not full of more drugs, and stuff my face. I snag a small handful of metal shards a few inches long on the ground near the tub. Interesting place for metal shards, but who am I to judge? I rip a piece of the sheet and tie the metal shards together into a sharp point. Not the best weapon in the world, but it will do in a pinch. I tuck it into my boot and continue my inspection of my would-be jail cell. I walk around the room. Ten paces from the bed, a low rock fixture about knee high keeps a pool of water at bay. A wardrobe with sharp corners is three steps from it. Two more steps, and a leather footstool leads into the sitting area. If it should come down to fighting my way out, I’ll be able to do so even if I’m impaired.

  How long have I been stuck in here? If I’ve been here longer than a few hours my crew probably knows I’m gone and are trying to figure out how to look for me.

  I stay tense while I explore, so I’m not surprised when the sound of voices gets louder as someone approaches the chamber I’m in. I get back on the bed and lie still. The best way to get out of here will be to make my escape with as little resistance as possible. That includes the least amount of people in my way. I slow my breathing, still my eyes behind my closed lids, and wait. When the hinges on the heavy oak door creak, I know it’s game time.

  “See, I told you she would still be asleep. I put the maximum amount of the potion that I could without killing her into her tea,” Arradel whispers.

  “She is the future Queen of the Light Elves. I must ensure her well-being, Arradel.” Cashel’s words are kind, but his tone is not.

  “I want to talk about us now, Cashel. You promised if I got her to you I would no longer be exiled from the Light Elven Kingdom. That all of my indiscretions would be forgiven.”

  The tinkling of metal against metal chimes softly. Must be that necklace of hers again.

  “I am also ready to be your official máistreás, Cashel. I have not forgotten.” Her voice wavers slightly.

  “Ah, yes, my máistreás,” Cashel says. His words send shivers down my spine.

  Something is off in the timbre of his voice. Footsteps approach the bed, and I keep a mental rein on my body—slow and steady breathing, eyes not darting their way when they talk, no reaction or facial expressions no matter what is said.

  “She is breathtaking in my bed, is she not?” Cashel asks.

  “I am so sick of talking about her. What about me, Cashel?” Arradel cries. “I am to be your máistreás for serving my King so well, and you should only be begetting heirs from her if you can stand being with a leath cine. But it is I you are supposed to love. Not her.”

  At the sound of a shoe hitting floor, I remind myself not to react. What a brat. I think she just stomped her foot like a four-year-old having a tantrum.

  Slap!

  Fear crawls up my throat and I try to swallow with as little movement as possible.

  “You stupid lowly bitch!” Cashel yells.

  What a douche. I can’t say this bitch doesn’t deserve to be slapped and more, but not by someone who is supposed to be her lover. This shit better not turn into foreplay. Blech.

  “How many times must I tell you not to call her a leath cine before you learn your lesson? She is full-blooded Fae. Half elf and hal—Never mind the other half, but she is full-blooded.”

  Interesting. I figured he would tell her everything. Either that or he isn’t willing to say it within the walls of the castle. It’s widely thought that everything in Faerie is alive, including the walls of the castles.

  “Cashel!” She gasps. “But you said—”

  “Yes, I know what I said.”

  “Then why would you strike me? I am to be your máistreás. Your confidant. I want nothing but to please you, my love.”

  Goddess, she sounds so needy and pitiful. Grow a back bone woman!

  “It would please me if you would just be quiet!” Cashel shouts, his voice sounding unsteady.

  “But—”

  At the heavy sound of fist meeting flesh, I can’t help but crack an eye open.

  Cashel strikes Arradel in the face, and blood comes flying out of her mouth in an arc of bright red. Throwing an arm up to defend herself, Arradel stops pleading with Cashel, and proceeds to try and block as many blows as she can. Cashel keeps striking her face, even after she falls to the ground, weeping and begging for him to stop. Hit. Punch. Hit. Punch. He lands blow after blow on her face and body. Her face is no longer striking slopes of cheekbones and nose but a bloody mess, swollen beyond recognition. She continues to whimper beneath him, and he never once glances my way. For that I’m thankful, because I’d never get out alive if he thinks I’m awake or saw any of this.

  He gives her one last punch to her eye, and she moans but stays down and quiet. Unmoving. I close my eyes and steady my breathing as I hear him moving about the room. Water splashes, and it takes all of my might to keep my eyes shut. After all, curiosity killed the cat, and I’m not a dumb kitty. Pretty sure I don’t have nine lives either.

  After more splashing, the door slams shut again, and heavy footsteps grow fainter. I blink one eye open and scan the room. Arradel is still lying helpless on the floor, and a pool
of blood is slowly forming near her head.

  I have to make a decision. Finish her off and be done with this backstabbing bitch and get the hell out of here, or be the bigger person and let karma take care of her once she heals. Fuck me and my need to save everyone. She’s only going to slow me down, but my decision is already made.

  I slide off the bed before I cross the room to her side and kneel by her head. I check for a pulse and feel a faint quiver beneath her bruised skin. I breathe a sigh of relief. Dead weight is a pain in the ass to move, no matter how small someone is. I nudge her and the eye that isn’t swollen shut flutters open a bit. Her gaze latches onto mine. The part of her eye that should be white is now solid red, but she can see me. Her mouth tries to form a word, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.

  “It’s your lucky day, doll, because I’m still alive and feeling generous. We’re going to get you out of here. All you have to do is lead the way.” I breathe the words close to her ear, not sure if there are guards outside the door. She moves her head the tiniest bit, and I set to bandaging what I can of her face and her arms. Don’t need her leaving a trail of blood behind us.

  “G-Guards” she wheezes out between labored breaths.

  “How many?”

  “T-T…”

  “Two?”

  She tilts her head slightly. No biggie. I can handle two guards. The key will be to surprise them and keep them quiet while taking them down. “Any chance you keep any poisons on you there, potions master?”

  Even with one eye swollen shut, Arradel glares at me. Not a fan of the potions master comment then. Whatever. I’m not a fan of being drugged and kidnapped, but here we are and here I am saving her ass none the less. Ungrateful hag.

  I weigh my options of how to handle the two brutes on the other side of the solid wooden door. I smile as a plan begins to form. Time to see just what the limits of my abilities are now that I’ve tapped into them thanks to my bloody handshake with Dare.

  Breathing in deep, I calm my mind and find the well of energy that flows within me like a rushing forest stream. I bring forth an image of Arradel opening the door from the inside, and I imagine pushing the vision from my mind, through the stone wall, and into the guards’ minds. All the while I’m praying no one has told Cashel what my abilities are, although I don’t think he’s smart enough to post guards who are resistant to abilities of the mind. More likely they have strong fighting skills. I hope at least that part of my rep precedes me.

  After a few seconds, I creep closer to the door and press my ear against the wood near the latch. Locked from the inside. What an idiot. I’m actually hoping the guards will be a challenge. Otherwise I’m going to be offended at the complete underestimation of my skills.

  Nothing but the thrum of steady heartbeats sounds, and I unlatch the door with care. I pause for a few second and listen for any shuffling of feet or the brush of fabric. Nothing. I yank the heavy door open and pray surprise is on my side.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  Both guards are huge and have arms like tree trunks. Too bad they’re slumped on the floor, heads together, wrists secured with iron cuffs, and one is snoring softly. Unbelievable! There is no way my vision was enough to knock them out. And where the iron cuffs came from I have no idea. Obviously someone other than Cashel knows I’m here and is willing to risk his ass to get me out of here before Cashel can force me into anything we’ll both regret.

  In a flash, I grab a few knives from the larger of the guards’ belt. I stash one in my boot, the other in the waistband of my pants, and I turn. Arradel is collapsed on the floor just inside the threshold of Cashel’s chambers.

  Great. Just great! She can’t keep herself up. I approach her. I stay tense and fully alert, ready for a sneak attack from this little snake. I grasp her under her arms and hoist her up. I sling one arm over my shoulders and wait for her to gain a semblance of balance before we start our trek out of this hell hole.

  I whisper nonsense in Arradel’s ear to keep her awake long enough to lead us out of here. I’ve never before been in Faerie and have only heard stories of how the passages change. It’s rumored that unless you know how to manipulate your way through them, you can get lost easily.

  “Oy, which way?” I ask, nudging her with my hip.

  She points to my right and mumbles something under her breath. I steer us right and continue half-walking, half-dragging her along with me. Three cobblestoned archways stand directly in front of us. Each has a marking above it. What is this, a house of freaking horrors? Behind door number one is my death, door two my salvation, and door three my soul mate?

  “Hey, which one?” I squeeze Arradel’s shoulder to get her attention.

  Arradel raises her head and nods her head toward the one in the middle. Of course it’s the one with the marking that looks like a terrifying creature. I had better not have to fight some dragon to get out of this mess. I’ll feed her to the scaly bastard if that’s the case. I stumble down the dark and damp hall with her weighing me down, bouncing off of walls left and right every time she starts to lose her footing. I’m hoping we only have a few more turns to go before we’re out of the realm and safely back to where I’m in charge.

  After two further stops and descending a steep staircase where I considered just letting her tumble down first so I wouldn’t tumble down myself, we’re finally at a door similar to the one we entered through. My chances of escaping without a scratch are dwindling by the second.

  I prop Arradel against the wall beside the door and try to open the latch, but it’s shut tight—like magically sealed, air tight. Fuck. I survey Arradel, with her head lolling to the side, barely conscious, and barely able to stand. I have little confidence that she’ll be able to remember the enchantment Cashel spoke, let alone be able to cast it.

  I walk up and square my shoulders. I bend my head to meet her eye that isn’t swollen shut. “We need to get out of here, but the door is sealed. Any ideas on how to open it?”

  “Cantation,” she slurs and lists forward.

  “I don’t know the incantation, do you?”

  “C-Cashel t-told me,” she hisses through a clenched jaw.

  “Super, want to share with the class?” I’m losing patience with her inability to form a coherent sentence or a coherent thought. One minute longer is too long in this place.

  “Front of door.” She points a finger to herself and then the door.

  Okay, get her in front of the door. That I can do if she has the juice to get this door open and our asses to safety. I loop her arm around my shoulders once again and maneuver us in front of the door. I adjust her weight and keep her upright. After about twenty seconds of just standing there with no movement from her, I check to make sure she hasn’t passed out on me.

  “Sometime today would be good.” I shrug a shoulder and adjust my grip on her. She’s heavier than she looks.

  She sighs deeply. She’s probably regretting kidnapping me in the first place. I’m possibly the worst kidnapee ever, but it’s not exactly something I would add to my resume of skills.

  Still nothing, even after her sigh. I’m ready to just let her drop where she stands and start hacking at the door to open it with brute strength. The force of her entire body shaking as though she’s having a seizure makes me lock my arms around her to keep her upright and stable. A latch clicks open, and beams of early morning sunlight stream through the small square where the door once was. A weight lifts from my chest and my eyes sting. Freedom. Arradel moans, and I refocus. What day is it? I make sure my grip on her is still solid and I start us forward at a hurried pace.

  I take a breath of fresh air that tastes like honeysuckle and smells like fresh laundry and thank the Goddess I made it out. Only a few bad memories and lost time as a token of the trip. A low sound of pain comes from Arradel, and I look down. She’s still just inside the door. I grab hold of her waist and hoist her over the threshold.

  “Where are we?” I hope my tone wi
ll keep her alert for a few seconds more.

  “Nash-Nashvi…”

  “Nashville?” I pray its Nashville, Indiana and not Nashville, Tennessee. “Indiana?”

  She nods, and I heave a sigh of relief. Only about an hour away from Indy then. That’s manageable. I just have to get us to the nearest business or house and borrow a phone. I have a long walk ahead of me, especially lugging her dead weight with me, so I start off toward what I hope is the road.

  Twenty minutes later, after stumbling through the fields of knee high grass, I stop us in front of a large rock. I prop her against it and debate whether I should leave her here and come back for her. If I leave her here by herself, she could be at risk if Cashel catches up with us once he realizes I’m no longer in his chambers and Arradel is nowhere to be found. We could both end up dead if she slows me down anymore, though. I need to know what she knows about Cashel’s plans for me and for the Light Elven Kingdom. I decide to keep her with me, because no one deserves to die at the hands of that psycho. I turn from pacing in front of the boulder she’s slouched against and stop short.

  A group of large Fae are headed our way. I know they’re Fae immediately based on their sheer size alone, but what I don’t know is if they are friend or foe. Our best defense will be a good offense, so I prepare to hit them all with an illusion long enough for us to skirt past them. I gather Arradel to me and I continue to focus on the illusion I’m painting in my mind. My skin tingles and a humming sound fills my ears. I want them to look at us and see only grass and the scenery behind us. Not as easy as it sounds. Making people see objects, that’s easy. Making them see a field full of long grass swaying with the breeze, getting the hills and the colors just right, is trickier. If these Fae are familiar with the territory, one small detail out of place could tip them off and my illusion will shatter. Arradel takes slow and steady steps. The Fae are approaching us at a faster clip than we are capable of, each step we take matched by five of theirs. They are going to walk right past us in a matter of seconds, so I stop our progress and opt to focus my energy entirely on the landscape around us—what I want them to see rather than the two of us struggling to escape Cashel’s clutches.