by K. J. Sutton
I felt the beginnings of sympathy, but it died like a grape on a vine when I remembered what he’d done. I shook my head, more to myself than him. It was no use. Everything had changed, and even if we could go back in time…
A line deepened between my eyebrows, and I held my knees tighter. Back in time. The thought brought yet another memory up, like a bubble rising to the water’s surface. I saw the two of us, facing each other just as we were now. We’d been at the Unseelie Court, talking about how things could’ve gone differently, as we always seemed to.
We can’t go back in time, can we?
No, we can’t, he’d said.
Another lie.
“Now? You tell me this now, when it’s too late?” I whispered. Damon was wrong—some wounds didn’t heal into a scar. Some wounds just ran too fucking deep, beyond the scope of healing, and all they could do was fester.
Collith must’ve seen every thought written on my face. His voice was fierce as he said, “It’s not too late, Fortuna. When I met you, I felt alive in a way I hadn’t for years, and it was only when I started to breathe again that I realized how long I’d been suffocating. I wanted you so badly, I would’ve done anything… and I did. I’m not proud of manipulating you into the mating ceremony, or lying about my ability.”
Something inside me cracked. “Then why did you?” I screamed.
“Because of this! Because I knew you’d never trust me if you knew!” Collith’s eyes were wild. Before I could say anything else, he picked up my phone and put in the passcode. I was so taken aback that I didn’t try to stop him. A second later, my own voice floated through the dim room.
Collith started translating when the recording reached his part of our wedding vows. “I know you are afraid of me. I know you don’t love me yet. But I vow to do everything within my power to change that. There are many things I cannot promise, because we live in a world of variables. Anything I can promise, though, I do so gladly. My home, my life, my heart. I will never tell you goodbye, because I will never leave you. I will give you a life of hellos, Fortuna Sworn.”
The recording ended. Collith tossed the phone back onto the bed, and it landed near my knee. Telling me the truth made him seem pounds lighter, as though each one had been a pound shed. But I felt heavier. Colder. Like a layer of frost had spread over my skin and was creeping into my heart.
“Do you know what I went through to bring you back from the dead? What I sacrificed?” I asked without looking at him. My voice cracked.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” At the edge of my vision, I saw Collith’s hands clench. “What did you sacrifice, Fortuna? What happened?”
The question echoed through me. It was the hundredth time he’d asked, but I had never been able to answer before. Ironic that I could finally admit why, now that it didn’t matter—I’d been afraid the truth would change how Collith looked at me. Afraid that he’d see I was as unclean as I felt.
At long last, though, he would get his answer. I jerked forward, leaning on my knees. Collith was still standing next to the bed, making it easy to dig my fingers into his scalp. He didn’t struggle, and I slammed into his mind without difficulty. Collith staggered from the force of the blow. I barely noticed.
Just as the Unseelie King once showed me his dreams, I showed him my nightmares.
I made certain he experienced everything, down to the tiniest details—the ridges of bark against my palms and the bite of cold air on my skin. Then Collith felt my shock as the demon pushed its way inside me. He felt my horror as it came in a burst of unwelcome warmth. He felt my anguish as I vomited all over that lonely road.
When I opened my eyes, Collith’s were bright with tears. I let go of him and wrapped my arms around myself. The air was so still it felt like a blanket of snow covered the room. What could he possibly say?
I had one more thing to give him. One more truth that would drive the knife deep inside his gut. Not about our daughter—that secret I’d take with me to the grave. I wouldn’t allow Collith to taint it.
“You should know something,” I added bleakly. “When Gwyn killed me, I saw everything. I watched her perform CPR. The most bizarre out-of-body experience you can imagine. Funny thing, though… I had no idea who any of you were. I didn’t even know you were faeries. I’ve thought about it a lot since then, and what I’ve concluded is that my soul was the one watching you. The one that was standing there in the tomb. Which means when I heard your name and remembered you, I’d recognized you with my innermost self. Kind of sounds like we might’ve been soulmates, huh?”
A tear dripped off the edge of his jaw. “Please forgive me. Please.”
“Enjoy the power you stole, Your Majesty. It’ll be something to remember me by.” The words felt as though they were torn from my chest, each one leaving a wound that throbbed and bled. I trusted you. I gave myself to you.
We both knew there was nothing else to say, nothing else he could say, but Collith didn’t move. His face looked haggard, as if he’d aged ten years in the time we’d been in this room together. “For me, you were never a Nightmare, Fortuna Sworn—you were a dream come to life.”
Tears were streaming down my face now, or maybe I just hadn’t noticed them until this moment. Suddenly it felt like I was on the verge of another panic attack. I wanted Collith gone.
Blinded by a rush of saltwater and pain, I fumbled for the piece of paper on the nightstand. It had been waiting there for days, forgotten until now.
“Come to the throne room at eight,” I told the faerie coldly. Then I whispered the final part of the spell that Laurie had given me, staring hard at Collith’s face as I spoke.
He flew backward as if someone had shoved him, right in the chest, and he shattered through the drywall. It was fitting, really—now our home match my heart. Jagged edges and gaping holes. I sat there as my face dried, staring at the hole, wondering distantly how I would explain it to the others. How I would explain anything, really. Finn was probably crossing the yard already, drawn by the racket Collith had made during his exit.
The kitten cautiously returned to me. I closed my eyes and buried my face in her fur. She smelled like naps in the sun, fresh laundry sheets, and… Collith.
I curled my body around her and shook with silent sobs.
I wore another black gown.
Well, if it could be called a gown. The top barely covered my breasts. Thin, dead branches encircled each shoulder. My midriff was bare. The skirt reached for the floor in dark gossamer. Leaves and vines swept through the material. All I wore for jewelry was the necklace Collith had given me. This time, the crown would stay here, tucked away into shadow.
Somewhere else in this underground maze, Viessa was getting ready for her coronation. Rumors were already circulating—her absence from the cells had been noticed. Apparently Nuvian had used this to his advantage. According to Lyari, he’d sent Guardians in search of the escaped prisoner, and it was a safe bet they were the ones who would’ve stopped the coup. The Folduins had planned their takeover carefully, and a tiny part of me admired the patience and cunning they’d displayed.
Other than Lyari, who believed we were here for a tribunal, the room behind me was empty—I’d left the house without waking Finn, and this time, I felt no guilt about it. Tonight was an event I didn’t want him to see.
I squeezed some lotion onto my palm at the same time a knock disturbed the silence, spreading through the air like a ripple in water. “Enter,” I called.
The door creaked open, and I watched the Tongue’s bulky form appear in the mirror’s reflection. “You asked to see me, Your Majesty?” he asked.
His arms were tucked into the drooping sleeves of his robe, lending him a serene air… but there was nothing serene about the stench of his fear. The beads around his neck seemed to quiver more obnoxiously than usual. I turned away from the glass, leisurely rubbing the lotion onto my arms. “Yes. I was just curious,” I said without looking up. “Did you start scheming with Viessa be
fore my coronation, or after?”
There was a beat of silence. I raised my gaze and saw the Tongue’s baffled frown. Behind him, I also saw Lyari’s face twitch with surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my queen,” the big faerie said, shaking his head.
“Well, someone mentioned my broken mating bond and the fact that Collith is alive. I can count on one hand how many people knew the truth. And you were so fascinated by our conversation during that council meeting. I bet you just couldn’t wait to tell Viessa what you’d learned. Still don’t want to talk, huh? Lyari? How long has it been since you’ve removed someone’s head?” I asked curiously.
She was standing next to the door. The Tongue didn’t turn around, but his eyes darted to the side. It made me think of a nervous rodent. In the meantime, Lyari’s lips twisted with speculation and her eyes went unfocused. She was really thinking about it, I realized with faint amusement. “Too long,” my friend concluded.
Maybe the Tongue saw something in our expressions that made him realize we weren’t bluffing. Or maybe he was too much of a coward to take that chance. “How did you know?” he asked past stiff lips.
“I didn’t for sure. But now I do,” I said coolly. All at once, his terror coated my tongue, flavors of rot and mold. I stood there for a few seconds, letting him fear the worst. Then I added, “Luckily for you, Viessa needs someone with your skills to perform the ceremony.”
Relief flickered in his small eyes. “I only have the Court’s best interest—”
“What’s that saying? How do you know a faerie is lying? Because they have a pulse. I think that’s it.” I lifted my skirt and stepped closer to him. “Actually, I should be thanking you.”
The faerie visibly swallowed. “Thanking me?”
“Yes. Before all this, I’d lost my mojo. I felt guilty… doing things like this.” My hand flew out, and I grabbed his fleshy face so tightly between my fingers that I drew blood. The Tongue dropped to his knees, whimpering, and stared up at me with horror in his eyes. He wasn’t seeing me, though—he was seeing his fear come to life in his mind. I pumped more power into him, plundering his memories like some woodland creature foraging through earth. I found everything he’d buried and brought it into the light.
Above all, the Tongue was afraid of his mother. She sneered down at him with pure loathing in her eyes. “You disgust me,” she hissed.
The Tongue—his true name was Gorwin—blubbered like a child. He spoke in Enochian, but the words were too wet and too quick. I couldn’t make them out.
Quick as a snake, I yanked my power out of him again, and the memories vanished. “I’m not surprised. You seem like a mama’s boy, Gorwin,” I said.
The Tongue’s body jerked and he gasped. The glassy sheen left his eyes and he blinked rapidly, then realized who was standing before him. It was the first time he’d looked at me with true fear. Giving the faerie a sweet smile, I tucked my hand beneath his chin and bent down, putting our faces close enough to kiss.
“Run, little mouse,” I whispered. His heavy breathing filled my ears. “Run before I change my mind.”
And he did exactly that.
“Time for my second appointment of the evening,” I murmured. I went back to the mirror, and I saw Lyari frown in the glass again. Though I waited, giving her a chance to ask why I hadn’t told her about the Tongue’s betrayal, she didn’t speak. I turned around, clasping my hands in front of me to hide how they trembled. “Does anyone know where Tarragon is?”
Lyari stepped away and said something to another Guardian through the open door. “He is visiting Nym, Your Majesty,” she told me after a moment.
“Let’s go to him, then. It’s been a too long since I’ve visited Nym.” Lyari nodded and moved into the passageway to update the other Guardians. I lingered by the mirror and controlled my breathing. Long inhale. Hold. Slow release. Do it one more time. When Lyari returned, I awaited with a distant expression. The mask of the Unseelie Queen, which I would never have to wear again after tonight. I walked over to her and paused in the doorway, taking in the rooms with a sweeping glance. I knew I wouldn’t be back.
Down we went to Nym’s rooms.
Upon our arrival, there was no sign of Tarragon, and every room within sight was… destroyed. Books had been torn apart and scattered. Some were half-charred. The walls had been drawn on. Not lovely art like the mural, but actual words scribbled over each surface. Mad, illegible scribbles. There was a hole in one of the earthen walls that hadn’t been there before, as if someone had struck it with his fist in a burst of consuming fury or utter desolation.
And not a single clock remained unbroken. That never-ending ticking had actually come to an end. The quiet was jarring.
Something small and brown darted by. Moving so quickly I almost missed it, Nym threw a book at the creature with all his strength. The tiny animal squeaked in alarm, dodging just in time. The faerie went after him, running across the chaotic space. He was only wearing jeans, and the hems were torn and faded, as if he’d been wearing them a long time.
“Nym? What happened here?” I asked loudly. I moved forward and stepped on a piece of glass. The cracking sound burst into the stillness. Nym whirled and spotted me. I could sense Lyari coming into the room.
“Your Majesty! Did you get my message?” he blurted. His voice sounded like a child’s.
But, really, there was no way to guess his age. Sometimes he looked ancient, as if he’d seen too much in this world. There were other times, like now, when he appeared young, so lost and desperate. The features of his face were so well-defined, so detailed. He was an artist’s dream.
I tried not to sound wary as I said, “What message?”
“I told the king. I saw the storm coming. Your mind was locked shut, so I had to contact someone else.” Nym started to smack his head. “I told him, I told him about the Wild Hunt!”
I rushed across the space and grabbed at his hands. A flavor coated my tongue; rosemary. “Yes, Nym! He did pass that along. Thank you so much for the warning.”
Nym raised his head and looked at me. His expression was strange—it was as if he was seeing two things at once, and he couldn’t decide which reality to grasp and hold onto. It reminded me of an expression I’d seen on Kindreth’s face.
I thought of the knife strapped to my thigh and resisted reaching for it.
“Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour,” Nym whispered.
A shiver went down my spine. I reminded myself of what this creature had endured at the whims of faerie kings.
Before I could say anything else, his demeanor shifted again—suddenly he looked even younger. Nym crouched low to the ground, slipping out of my grasp, and hugged himself with boney arms. His lips puckered in contemplation. He made me think of a child who’d woken from a bad dream and found himself alone in a shadow-filled room.
It was this place. These low ceilings and dirt walls were driving him toward the brink of complete insanity.
This is a bad idea, I thought. Nym was unpredictable, there wasn’t a spare bedroom in the loft, and it could go wrong in so many ways. But the words still left my mouth. “Nym… would you like to come live with me?”
The faerie didn’t answer. There was a line between his brows, and it looked as if he hadn’t understood the question. I started to ask again, but his gaze shifted to something behind me. Tarragon’s voice drifted serenely past. “I received word that you wanted to speak, Queen Fortuna.”
I turned around, locking away the few emotions that had managed to escape their cages. Lyari moved to occupy the space between me and Nym, now that my back was turned on him. “You told me once that you stand wherever I stand. Was that true?” I asked Tarragon, folding my hands to rest them against my thighs.
If he saw the change in me or heard it in my voice, Tarragon was a master at pretending. Nothing flickered in his eyes. No muscles twitched along his jaw. “It w
as, Your Majesty,” he said simply.
“Excellent. I require you to show support for what’s about to happen tonight.” I told him the events that would soon unfold. I knew Lyari was listening to every word, and it would be the first time she’d heard Viessa’s plan, as well.
Once I was finished, Tarragon still offered no arguments. Lyari, I knew, would be fuming if I looked at her. “May I ask why you’re doing this?” was all he said.
I didn’t answer right away. Maybe because, this time, the answer truly mattered. Half of a minute went by, and then I met the faerie’s dark gaze. My voice was the most certain it had ever been since I’d first stepped foot in the Unseelie Court. “I don’t want this. And I don’t want Collith to have it, either.”
Tarragon studied me for another moment, and I could’ve sworn there was a tiny smile on his lips. A glimpse of admiration. “I shall see you in the throne room,” he murmured with a deep bow. “Until then, I will attend to Sir Nym.”
“Sir?” I repeated, turning to watch his approach toward the other faerie.
Tarragon cupped Nym’s elbows and helped him to his feet. “Yes. Our Nym was once knighted by Queen Elizabeth II. He’s quite brave, you know.”
“I do know.” I watched them for another second or two, then inclined my head at Lyari. She moved into the tunnel, her hand on that sword hilt. She was probably imagining what it would feel like to behead me, since it had been such a long time, after all.
“You can’t do this,” she hissed the instant we were out of their earshot.
“I can and I am.” I chose the passageway that would lead us to the throne room and walked faster. Suddenly I was eager to get this over with. Lyari caught up and opened her mouth. I spun to face her, my skirt twisting around me. “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? I can’t be the queen you dream of, Lyari. It’s not who I am, and I won’t change into that person. Wouldn’t you rather have a ruler who wants to be in that chair?”
