Deadly Dreams (Fortuna Sworn Book 3)

by K. J. Sutton

  Collith didn’t seem to be worried about Cyrus overhearing this. I glanced toward the fry cook, dreading the confusion I’d probably see in his eyes—I had hoped to move out soon, once I found the right place, and avoid any conversations about the shadow world that existed alongside his. Thankfully, Cyrus seemed to be lost in thought. He turned his brat over the heat, its brightness reflecting in his eyes. His red hair gleamed even redder, and sitting there like that, he looked like some vengeful god.

  Emma made a speculative sound, drawing my attention back to her. The old woman’s lips twisted in thought. She didn’t seem worried about Cyrus discovering the truth, either. “Can’t exactly Google it, I suppose,” she mused.

  Despite my concern about Cyrus, I started to laugh. At the same moment, I caught sight of something in Matthew’s hand, and the laughter at the back of my throat slowly died. Damon was frowning, too. He opened Matthew’s small fingers to peer more closely at what he held. “I’m not sure what that one is, buddy.”

  “It’s a wood anemone,” I heard myself say. Suddenly I felt very, very cold. I couldn’t look away from those gleaming petals in the center of Matthew’s palm. It couldn’t be coincidence that the flower kept appearing—plants carried power and meaning, and they were often used in witches’ spells. If that was the case for this one, it was highly unlikely it was for protection. But how could I stop whatever was coming? How could I make sure my family wasn’t caught in the crossfire during this war?

  When I finally managed to look at him, Collith’s expression was grim. Before I could ask him if he knew anything else about it, Lyari materialized beside me. All thoughts about the flower faded—for now, at least—and I arched my head back to look at her. Her brown eyes were black in the firelight.

  Grateful I was turned away from Cyrus, making it easy to assume I was talking to Collith, I held back a sigh at her expression. “Another one?”

  Lyari nodded and stepped back, giving me room to stand. I reached for my new gloves, which I’d abandoned on the ground in order to eat. Collith held my plate as I pulled them on. He tried to give it back once I was finished.

  “Keep it,” I said, careful to keep my gaze away from his too-thin frame. “I don’t want to get grease on my gloves.”

  The faerie’s expression told me he wasn’t fooled for a second. I turned away and cleared my throat to get Emma and Cyrus’s attention. They couldn’t see Lyari, considering if she were to sift in front of them, it would prompt questions I’d been avoiding. They looked at me, and for a split second, I thought I saw Cyrus’s gaze dart toward Lyari.

  It was dark, firelight and shadows playing across his face—his eyes were nearly impossible to see. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

  “I’m going to… a party,” I said, hating the lie, hating myself for giving it to them. “Someone who lives down the road is throwing it. Don’t wait up for me.”

  “So many parties lately. Our Fortuna is popular,” Emma told Cyrus with a conspiratorial nod.

  I rolled my eyes and left the warm glow of the campfire. Finn was instantly at my side, his ears perked forward, eyes bright and alert. Lyari had already started toward the woods. I followed her, scanning the line of trees in search of movement, but Nuvian’s warriors were well-hidden tonight. In the past week, I’d only caught sight of someone twice, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. It had become a game, of sorts. A way to distract myself from the grim reality that was my reign as the Unseelie Queen.

  Tensions had been running even higher since Thuridan’s public accusation. The fae were also still feeling the loss of their slaves. I’d lost count how many tribunals had been called, but whether they were meant to irritate me or simply because the bloodlines were turning on each other, I couldn’t say. A council meeting had been set for later in the week, probably to discuss what a terrible job I was doing as their ruler.

  When I’d asked Nuvian why I should give a flying fuck what some old farts thought, he charitably reminded me those old farts on the council had the ears of their bloodlines. And if too many bloodlines decided to revolt, I would not survive it. Collith wouldn’t have a throne to reclaim, if they put someone else on it.

  “Looks like I’m going to a council meeting, then,” I’d muttered in defeat.

  Now Lyari, Finn, and I wove through the forest of naked trees. The journey had become so familiar that I’d forgotten to be afraid of every sound or shadow. I looked around and didn’t see Savannah’s zombies, coming at me through the darkness. My mind didn’t flash to the night I’d been taken by those goblins. These days, I thought mostly of my runs with Finn, the walks with Lyari, watching Damon show his son an herb or some other useful plant hidden beneath the snow. I would never feel the warm kinship I’d felt before—dark experiences inevitably changed the place they’d happened forever—but I had managed to make peace here.

  It was fully nighttime when we filed through the door and entered the Unseelie Court. In Collith’s rooms, I went through the motions of getting ready. I picked out an elaborate gown, put on a layer of makeup, and placed the strange crown on my head. The sapphire came out if its hiding place in my pocket, and I secured the clasp with the confidence of something I’d done many times before.

  When I saw myself in the long mirror, the dress had the effect of fire, like the one I’d been forced to leave behind tonight. For this. For the fae. The hem was white, but as the dress went on, it transformed from pink, to red, to black. My arms were exposed, which was my favorite feature. I liked my arms—they were well-defined from hours of holding heavy trays aloft. My hair hung free in soft waves.

  From his usual spot on the floor, close to the door, Finn huffed his approval. “Thanks,” I said with a faint laugh.

  Ready at last, I emerged into the passageway and my unsmiling battalion marched me onward. Along the way, I caught one of two Guardians glancing at me beneath their lashes. I hid a faint pang of disappointment. The fae were accustomed to beauty, and I’d been among them for several weeks now—maybe part of me had hoped they’d eventually see my true face.

  At least Úna was not amongst them. Her obsession had only intensified since our first meeting, and it was a relief not to feel her eyes boring into the back of my head.

  In the doorway of the throne room, I immediately noticed the scent of fried meat in the air. Tonight there was a long table along the right wall—the Tongue’s orders, probably, as a way to fulfill our promise for a feast. Honestly, it wasn’t a terrible idea. Food steamed on silver platters, and the floor was already covered in scraps and messes. No humans to clean it up, of course, so now it would probably remain there and rot.

  I returned my gaze to the gleaming throne waiting for me. Finn had reached the dais already. The fur along his spine stood on end as he sat. By now I had the number of stairs memorized, but I still counted them silently, a way to keep the nerves at bay. At the top, I sank onto the hard chair and lifted my gaze. All right. Here we go again.

  There were two figures standing at the bottom of the steps—both of them wore haughty expressions and clothes that boasted wealth. Rings shone on their fingers and the males’ hair fell to their slender hips in straight curtains, the mark of faeries that had been brought up at Court, rather than amongst the humans. Looking at them, I knew it was going to be a long night.

  My stomach complained again, reminding me that I hadn’t gotten a chance to take a single bite of my brat.

  As the room quieted, Finn walked away from the dais. I tried to hide my surprise—the werewolf had never left my side down here. He approached the buffet and leapt up, leaning his paws on the edge of the table. I watched him take something, then drop to the floor again. The wolf’s nails clicked on the stone floor as he returned to me. There was something in his mouth, but I couldn’t see it until he dropped it in my lap.

  I stared down at the small, golden thing in my hands. He brought me a honey bun. Despite the tension in the air and the amount of eyes on me, I couldn’t hold back a smile.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the werewolf.

  He sneezed and returned to his spot at the right of my throne. As he sat and faced the crowd, the sight of him sent a gentle warmth through me. The starving creature I’d first met, who had worn a chain as a leash, was gone. In its place was a tall, thick-limbed, bright-eyed beast that even I would hesitate to cross.

  Feeling a fresh wave of resolve, I focused on the males waiting for me to speak. The proximity allowed my essence as a Nightmare to wash over them, and while the faerie on the right retained his composure, the one on the left stared at me with glazed eyes. I used their distraction to tuck the honey bun into one of my pockets. “Why have you asked for this gathering? In English, please,” I commanded.

  They immediately tried to speak over each other.

  As I suspected, it was a petty dispute involving money. Struggling to hide my impatience, I made fast work of ensuring they both walked away unhappy. Watching them go, I knew I was collecting enemies like some people collected coffee mugs. I swallowed a sigh as I gathered my skirt and stood. Finn left the dais ahead of me, his nails clicking against the stone.

  Just as I reached the bottom of the steps, a child broke apart from the throng and came toward me, holding what appeared to be a jewelry box. She looked like a doll with her pink dress and white gloves. Her brown skin set off her dark eyes, and someone had curled her hair into perfect ringlets. She was the young girl in every horror movie who said something creepy just before the terror began. But I didn’t detect any glamour and Finn wasn’t reacting to her, so it seemed safe enough to interact. I met the child halfway and knelt on the flagstones, putting us at the same eye level. “Are you all right?”

  She looked back at someone for reassurance—probably the female wearing blue silk, lingering at the front of the ever-moving crowd—and faced me again. She said something in Enochian.

  “In English, darling,” the female called. She didn’t seem worried about allowing her daughter close to the evil Nightmare queen, and when I saw that I felt myself soften toward them both.

  The child nodded and took a breath. In a high, clear voice she said, “A gift for Her Majesty from the bloodline Daenan.”

  She curtsied, then raised her head to present the jewelry box. Her heart-shaped face radiated sincerity. Even if her mother’s objective was to kiss my ass or gain favor, this girl truly meant what she said. I smiled and reached for their gift.

  “Stop, Queen Fortuna!” Nuvian said sharply. He stepped forward and put himself slightly in front of me. I couldn’t see his expression, but there was no softening in his voice as he addressed the child. “There is a hole in your glove, Lady Selussa.”

  Because of where he stood, I could only see half of the child’s—Selussa’s—stricken face. An instant after Nuvian spoke, she burst into tears. Sobs wracked that delicate pink-clad frame, and Selussa’s mother rushed forward to wrap a protective arm around her. “She didn’t know, Queen Fortuna! Have mercy,” she cried.

  Knowing I probably looked as bewildered as I felt, I turned to Nuvian for an explanation. There were shutters over his eyes as he said, “Lady Selussa is blessed with the ability to bestow death upon anyone she touches.”

  The Hand of Death. Suddenly their terror made sense. If Nuvian hadn’t intervened, my fingers probably would’ve brushed against the child’s as I took the box from her, resulting in my immediate demise.

  Something inside me darkened like a stormy sky.

  I returned my gaze to Selussa and her mother, who clutched her daughter’s shoulders as if I were about to wrench her away and eat her alive. It was a clever game they’d played—using the child had made it impossible to accuse them of outright treachery. I could order the Tongue to work a truth spell on one of them, but Collith’s books had taught me there was a reason fae used this as a last resort. Most creatures, fae or otherwise, didn’t survive the process. Apparently it was even more grueling than the Rites of Thogon.

  And I wasn’t sure I could survive another death on my conscious.

  Everyone waited for my verdict—most of the bloodlines were gone or still filtering out of the room, but our small drama had caught the attention of a few. I glimpsed a curious-eyed redcap peering out from behind a pillar. A human stood at the table, looking for all the world as though she were there to stack her arms high with food-crusted plates, but she moved too slowly. She’d probably been ordered to eavesdrop by her master.

  I put them all from my mind and looked down at Selussa, whose cheeks were streaked with tears. If she had unique abilities at such a young age, it meant she’d acquired them through trauma. I wasn’t going to be another villain in her story.

  “Daenan, you said?” I asked, my voice soft as velvet. The child hiccuped and nodded, the picture of distress. I looked up and directed my next words at her mother. “Rest assured, I will remember your bloodline now.”

  Recognizing this as a dismissal I’d meant it to be, Selussa’s mother instantly pulled her away. I watched them flee, wishing I could justify separating them. As long as the child was within her family’s grasp, she would only know corruption and cruelty. I’d probably sent her away to become just like them.

  None of these thoughts showed on my face as I turned toward the exit near the dais. With Nuvian leading the way, Lyari and Finn bringing up the rear, we filed through the dark doorway.

  Once we were safely out of sight from prying eyes, I stopped. Nuvian noticed immediately and retraced his steps. He stared at the wall behind me, managing to radiate annoyance without dropping his mask of neutrality. It was a fae trait, I realized, and it was exactly what I’d been doing every time I came down here.

  Maybe Damon was right. I was becoming more like them.

  The thought sent a jittery feeling through me, and suddenly I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I wanted to take it off. I looked up at Nuvian and spoke more sharply than I meant to. “I know that isn’t the first time you’ve saved my life. For whatever it’s worth, you have my promise that I will never use my abilities on you again.”

  The faerie didn’t respond, but I hadn’t really expected him to. I wasted no time turning my back and hurrying down the tunnel, eager to be back amongst people who weren’t trying to kill me. With Finn and Lyari keeping pace every step of the way, I stopped by Collith’s rooms to change, then hurried toward the surface. I almost broke into a run twice.

  The moment we reached open air, my Guardians spread out. I almost told them not to bother with the pretense anymore, but it occurred to me that I liked Nuvian out of sight. So I said nothing and they melted into the forest like something from a dream. For what felt like the thousandth time in the past month, we began the hike back to Cyrus’s through snow and shadow. Lyari walked beside me while Finn trotted off into the darkness.

  The night was so still that even the sky seemed to be sleeping. I tipped my head back to see if I could find the moon. “Soon, Your Majesty, you will have to choose,” Lyari said without warning, startling me.

  I glanced at her, but she kept her gaze on the trees around us. “What do you mean?”

  Lyari stepped over a frozen puddle. Seeing that, I had a flash of memory—my father stepping on a thin sheet of ice, the tip of his dress shoes gleaming. Doesn’t it sound like I’m tap dancing, Fortuna? I blinked the image back and waited for Lyari to answer. She still pretended to be absorbed in our surroundings as she said, “There’s a reason our rulers live at Court, and not in the human world.”

  I scoffed. “Are you saying I need to give up my family? Leave them behind just so I can keep resolving petty disputes and watch pointless grandstanding?”

  Lyari was silent. A stick snapped beneath my boot, echoing through the night like a gunshot, and something about the sound disarmed me. We walked the rest of the way without speaking, and I huddled in my coat, longing for the warmth of my bed. After a time, Cyrus’s barn appeared up ahead. In the faint moonlight it was just some faded wooden planks between the trees, but my exhale of relief pool
ed into the air like clouds.

  We’d gotten four steps onto the lawn when, without warning, Lyari whirled to face me. “Is that really what you think of us?” she demanded.

  She didn’t know it, but Lyari had finally shown her hand—it was obvious she cared what I thought. I stopped, too, and shoved my hands into my pockets. My fingers collided against the honey bun, which I’d completely forgotten about after transferring it from my gown to my coat. An owl hooted somewhere nearby. “No. Not entirely,” I admitted. “There are a lot of assholes down there, though.”

  Lyari’s jaw worked. She was so beautiful that she even made a mulish expression attractive. “There are assholes everywhere, Your Majesty,” the faerie countered.

  “You may have a point.” From somewhere nearby, there came the unmistakeable sounds of Finn changing forms. Lyari was already swaying on her feet and looked five seconds away from spewing vomit all over me. I fought a smile and pointed at the house with my thumb. “I’ve got it from here. Pretty sure I can cross the yard without being assassinated.”

  The sounds paused. Having watched several werewolf transformations, I knew Finn was probably resting. Bracing himself before more of his bones bent and shattered. As the silence returned, Lyari’s face smoothed back into its haughty mask. “I thought I’d spend the night.”

  “Aren’t there people you want to see? Spend time with?” I asked bluntly. My mind had gone to all the time she’d spent with me, against her will, because I forced an oath from her in a petty form of revenge. Maybe Lyari saw my sincerity, because something in her expression relented. Then I added, “Hell, go out and get laid, if nothing else. You need it more than anyone.”

  She glowered at me now, and I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “You know what? Fine. I hope you’re attacked while I’m gone.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said confidently. The faerie rolled her eyes and turned away. At the same moment, I remembered what I’d been meaning to ask her since my latest night with Naevys. “Oh, Lyari? Thanks for the chair.”