His eyes narrowed. “Lover?”
“Yes.”
“The beast did not violate you?”
My lips curled in a sardonic smile. “Oh, he violated me all right, just the way I like it, and I hope for him to do it again soon, many times.”
A snort of laughter from the other side of the room. “Looks like we misread the situation, Fenn.”
“Yes, it certainly seems we did,” Fenn said. “I apologize, my lady.”
“You can apologize by letting Veles go.”
Veles growled low in his throat.
Fenn cleared his throat. “An honest mistake, if you would just ask your … friend not to retaliate.”
“Why don’t you remove the damn gag and ask him yourself?”
Fenn didn’t take his eyes off me, but there was movement in the periphery of my vision, and then Veles’s voice echoed through the cave.
“If you touch her, if you lay one hand on her …”
“We won’t, and we haven’t,” Fenn said. “My apologies for the misunderstanding. I hope you can forgive us.”
“Veles?” I pressed my dagger into the soft flesh of Fenn’s throat. “Have they hurt you?”
“Only my pride.” He sounded amused.
“Release him,” Fenn said.
Veles was by my side in an instant, his teeth bared in Fenn’s face. The hooded figure fell back, and a beam of light fell across a face pale like marble. His hair gleamed gold like the sun, and his eyes glittered like jewels.
Veles’s growl died in his throat. “Alaron?”
The man frowned at Veles. “Alaron? Who’s Alaron?”
Veles met his gaze steadily. “You are. You’re Alaron, the winter king.”
Chapter Twenty
Alaron? This confused-looking man was the winter king?
I turned to Veles. “Are you sure?”
Veles nodded, his gaze still on the golden-haired man. “Yes, I’m sure. Alaron, don’t you remember me?”
The man pushed back his hood to reveal long gold hair pulled back from his face in a braid. His cheekbones were chiseled planes, his nose an aquiline slope, and his lips perfectly formed petals on his marble skin. He was much too pretty and much too familiar. Rayne … He looked like Rayne.
I nodded. “I see it.”
“Who are you people?” Alaron asked.
“My name is Veles, and I am the god of death.”
The chink and clink of blades filled the cave.
I grabbed Veles’s hand. “Um, Veles, maybe that isn’t the best way to introduce yourself?” I looked to Alaron. “He was the god of death, but he gave up his godhood to get to me. I’ve come from the winter court to find you. Your people need you.”
He shook his head. “I have no idea what you speak of. My name is Fenn.”
“Fenn?” the gruff voice said.
Fenn looked to his companion, a large, bearded beast of a man, with bushy brows and dark brown eyes.
“We should hear them out, don’t you think?” the bearded man said with hidden meaning in his tone.
“Not here,” Fenn said. He met Veles’s gaze. “Gather your things and come with us.”
He strode out of the cave, and his men followed.
Veles handed me my clothes and then pulled on his own.
I slipped into my tunic. “He doesn’t look like he remembers who he is.”
Veles buttoned his britches. “Either he doesn’t recall or he’s hiding his real identity. Not every commoner would know what Alaron looks like.”
I pulled on my boots and stood. “Well, there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
Veles handed me my furs, and I followed him out of the cave into the predawn light.
The four men led us up the mountain and onto a hidden pass. The sun’s glare was bright on our heads, but the chill was crisper and the air thinner the higher we climbed. They leapt ahead, easy and sure in their steps, and then a shadow fell over us.
Veles stopped to shield his eyes, and I followed his gaze to see a cliff jutting out above us in the shape of a hawk head.
The landmark that the Raven had told us about. The entrance to Alaron’s hidden keep. And then the men in front of us dropped out of sight.
We rushed ahead to find a ledge and a sheer drop. Veles grabbed me around the waist and tugged me back. Where had they gone?
“Over here,” a voice called from our left.
The bearded man waved at us from a crack in the rock face. How had he … Wait, it wasn’t a crack, it was a cave entrance, but from the angle we were at it was practically invisible. Veles ushered me ahead of him, and we ducked into the darkness. A few feet in and the darkness was illuminated by amber light pouring from sconces notched onto the wall. We turned a corner to be faced by a huge metal door. Fenn and his three companions were waiting for us. As we approached, Fenn pressed his palm to the metal. A low rumble filled the chamber, and then the door slid open to reveal a stone hallway.
The men strode in, and we followed. The door rumbled to a close behind us and then the hallway lit up in bright light to reveal a set of stairs leading up to a balcony. Several doors led off from the hallway, and the walls were plastered and smooth. It was a modern-looking space, like Rayne’s bedchamber at the winter court.
Alaron—or Fenn, as he was known—led us through an archway into a spacious room lit by crystals embedded in the walls. Electricity? It had to be. The door that had opened with a touch of his palm could have been a sensory pad, and the crystals were bulbs. I’d always thought of Faerie as a place stuck in a time of oil lamps and roaring fires, but from what Nia had told me, and what I’d seen of the winter keep and now this place, it was obvious they had advanced technology available to them, except they labeled it all magicka.
Several other men lounged around the room. A couple were playing cards, and one sat by the fire—not a real roaring fire, but one that seemed to be an animated picture built into a black slab in the wall. There was heat emanating from it, though, and I found myself walking closer. The man by the picture fire glanced up from beneath dark brows, his slender face set in grim lines as he stared at me. The faux flames cast shadows in his eyes, giving him a disconcerting air.
Fenn clapped his hands. “I’ll need the room, please. Grendel, Bertram, you can stay.”
The room cleared out, and the only ones left were Veles and me, Fenn, the bearded man, and the dark-haired man by the fire.
Fenn walked to the archway and touched a panel on the wall and a door slid down to close it off.
“Now it’s just us.” Grendel grinned wide through his dark beard. “So, let’s hear your tale.”
“You called me Alaron?” Fenn prompted.
“Yes,” Veles replied. “Alaron, the winter king.”
“Except there is no winter king. The winter realm has a queen,” Fenn said.
Veles smiled. “Then answer me this? How did you come in possession of the winter king’s secret keep?”
Fenn’s eyes narrowed. “You know about this place?”
I pressed a hand to Veles’s chest to indicate that he allow me to speak. “Perun, the god of storms, told us about this place. He told us that the king had fled, and if he’d go anywhere, it would be here.”
Grendel snorted. “Fenn can’t be the man you’re looking for, then. Fenn is no coward to flee from anything.”
Veles’s smile was sharp. “He’s also no fool, and only a fool would have stayed to face what was coming. The winter king made the wise choice to retreat. He made the choice to live to fight another day. So, he came here, to his secret keep.”
Fenn and Grendel exchanged loaded glances.
“Fenn …” Grendel canted his head. “With the way you discovered this place …”
Fenn’s expression was wary as he spoke. “I woke up here with no memory of who I was. But there was evidence of my having lived here for some time. I just couldn’t recall those days or my name. But for some reason, this place responded to the imprint of my
palm, and the magicka coursing through the fabric of its structure spoke to me. I met Grendel and his men while out hunting a few days later.”
“He saved us from a wild boar attack,” Grendel said. He held up his hands. “The thing was huge and took us by surprise.”
“I brought them here,” Fenn continued. “I joined their cause, and we’ve been working together ever since.”
“What cause would that be?” Veles asked.
“Protecting the local villagers from the scourge that call themselves the Black Hoods,” Grendel replied. “Thieves and mercenaries. They’ve been stealing from the locals—livestock and crops from the stores—and more recently, taking young women.” Grendel’s lip curled. “The bastards keep slipping through our fingers, but the fact that we’ve been patrolling has reduced the rate of the attacks.”
“Grendel and his men were farmers before they took up the mantle of vigilante justice,” Fenn explained.
Grendel snorted. “Pleas to the crown have yielded no aid.”
“But you are the crown.” Veles pressed, “At least you were.”
The dark-haired man who had been silent up until now spoke, his voice low and soft. “Maybe you should tell us the whole story? How did you come upon this information? How is it you remember the existence of a winter king when we do not?”
He was watching me with a strangely intense look that made my skin crawl.
I cleared my throat. “I guess I should start at the beginning with what I know. It began with the taint …” I filled them in on Oblivion, on Morrigan’s sacrifice, on the shimmer and the threat, and the winter kingdom’s enchantment. I filled them in on Perun’s imprisonment and the storm’s true purpose, and the key to breaking Oblivion’s hold over the winter keep. I explained how Oblivion was using discord to gain power, how if we did not bring peace to the lands then it would eventually be strong enough to bring down the shimmer, and Morrigan’s sacrifice would have been for nothing. “You have a daughter, and she is under the taint’s control. Your people have forgotten you, and it seems that you have forgotten yourself.”
Fenn massaged his temple. “So, this Morrigan, this great tree, and the winter king have all been wiped from our memories.”
“I can only deduce that because myself, Veles, and my companion, the Raven, were not in Faerie when Oblivion cast its enchantment, we are unaffected by it, even now.”
“And you are born of a sliver of this Morrigan’s soul?” the dark-haired man asked. His lips curled almost derisively. “You are our potential savior?”
He was more than derisive, he was amused. How dare he try and ridicule me. I lifted my chin. “I don’t know what I am, but I’ve traveled this far, I’ve survived this long, and I intend to do whatever it takes to prevent the taint from breaching the shimmer and entering the mortal realms.”
“Even though you are, by your own admission, not truly mortal?”
“Yes. Even then.”
He snorted. “Taint? I have seen no evidence of this taint you speak of. The awful acts of fey do not constitute a deeper threat.”
He dismissed me and stared into the faux flames as if none of what I’d just said was of any consequence, and now Fenn and Grendel were looking dubious too.
“You ask us to take a lot on faith,” Fenn said.
Grendel scratched his beard. “Aye, they do, Fenn, but this place and your lack of memory do fit with their story.”
“So could one hundred other stories,” Bertram said.
They were being ridiculously short-sighted, and anger bloomed in my chest. “You haven’t seen the taint? You haven’t seen the black veins that crawl across the pixies’ skin, or the twisted, blackened trees that have been turned to flesh and blood? You don’t see the obsidian eyes of those under its control? Pfft, then I guess you’ve been lucky so far.”
Grendel was staring at me wide-eyed now. Some part of what I’d just said had struck a chord with him.
“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” Veles asked.
Grendel tugged on his beard. “Aye, I believe I have.”
“Grendel?” Fenn prompted.
“Ach, I saw the face of one of the Black Hoods. There was this spider web of black veins across his jaw, and I could have sworn his eye whites bled to black for a heartbeat.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Fenn asked.
Grendel rubbed a hand across his beard. “We’d been merry-making that night, I thought it was the ale that had played tricks on my eyes. But now … Maybe it’s true. Maybe you are this king. You certainly have the bearing of a nobleman. And there’s no denying that the world outside has gone to shit. We’ve sensed something wrong in the air for some time. In the trees, in the fauna and flora of our lands. The crops that die suddenly, and the livestock that sicken and pass away.”
Fenn locked gazes with me. “Even if this is true, I can be of no help without remembering who I am.”
I smiled reassuringly. “Then we have to find a way to give you back your memories.”
“The autumn court,” Veles suggested. “Aurelia will help us. She was always fond of Alaron; some might say a little too fond.”
Fenn blinked in surprise. “The autumn queen? You want us to speak to the autumn queen?” He let out a bark of laughter. “Yes, we’ll just saunter up to the gates and demand an audience with the queen of cogs and steam. Have you seen her fortress? The winter keep may be a stronghold but the autumn keep is a mechanical beast waiting to devour anyone who threatens it.”
I turned to Veles. “If the autumn keep is so reinforced, why do they consider winter to be the stronghold?”
Veles’s smile was a wicked slash across his brutal face. “Because there is nothing as deadly as the snap and frost of winter. No army can lay siege to winter for long, not without ice filling their veins.”
And now winter was at work, freezing the cogs and machines that kept autumn functioning. “We need to get to autumn and fast.”
Bertram sat up, indignant. “You can’t leave. You have a village depending on you.”
“He has more than that, he has a kingdom depending on him,” Veles said bluntly.
Fenn looked torn. “Bertram is right; I have an obligation to the village.”
“Fuck that,” Grendel said. “Bertram can step into your shoes for a while and lead the others in keeping the Black Hoods in check. We can’t ignore this.” He placed a huge hand on Fenn’s shoulder. “I saw this taint, I looked it right in the eyes, and I swear my bowels quivered in fear. If there is a way to stop it, then we must act now. We have to go.”
“We?” Fenn arched a brow in Grendel’s direction, and the big guy grinned, showcasing even white teeth through his dark, scraggly beard.
“You think you’re going on this adventure without me? Heck, if you are a king, then I’m not having you forget your closest and best.” He slung an arm across Fenn’s shoulders. “And if you’re not”—his expression hardened as he fixed his gaze on us—“if this is some kind of trick, then you’ll need an extra pair of hands to do the slicing.”
Fenn’s shoulders sagged. “Very well. We leave at first light. We’ll take the mountain passes and cut across the frozen marshes.”
Veles sucked in a breath. “The winter has taken the marsh?”
Grendel’s beard twitched. “Aye, it’s spreading fast.” He looked at Fenn. “If you are the king, then we better hurry and find these missing memories of yours.”
Fenn nodded, but he didn’t look too sure. “Show our guests to the spare chambers, Grendel. I need to be alone for a while.”
He walked out of the room, leaving us with the big bear of a man and the dark, suspicious one.
Grendel sucked in his teeth. “Well, let’s get you settled for the evening.” He grinned again. “I suppose you two will be sharing? But keep the noise down. It’s been a while since some of the men had a woman; no need to rub our noses in it.” He winked and Veles chuckled.
My cheeks burned. “If you’re quite finis
hed?”
Grendel led us to the exit and my gaze slid to the seat by the fire, but Bertram was already gone.
The room we were shown to was reasonably sized with two single beds and a picture fire like the one downstairs. Grendel turned the fire on for me with a flick of a switch and then headed for the door.
“Feel free to stay up here, or head back downstairs to the lounge,” he said. “The place is locked down, so you’ll be safe here. I’m on hunt duty today, so I’ll be headed out with a couple of the guys to catch supper. If you’re hungry, there may be some leftovers in the icebox in the kitchen at the back of the hideout.”
“Hunting?” Veles asked, hands flexing.
Grendel jerked his head up. “You want to come?”
Veles exhaled. “I should stay with Wynter.”
Seriously? I shoved his arm. “No, you do not need to stay with Wynter. Wynter is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Go hunt. Let off some steam.”
His smile was a sexy flash of fang. “I let off plenty last night, thank you.”
Grendel’s forced cough reminded us he was still in the room.
“Just go and catch something yummy and preferably untainted, please.”
Veles’s gaze was suddenly serious. “Are you sure?”
He was a god no more, but the primal beast in him that had been nurtured for so long was still strong. It needed to hunt and fuck and feed. “I’m sure.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “In that case, I will find you an antelope.”
Grendel snorted. “Now that I would like to see.”
The two men retreated from the room, leaving me to explore my temporary refuge. My chest fluttered, and my stomach dropped.
The Raven …
I closed my eyes, reaching out for him, and felt the kiss of an icy breeze on my cheeks and the ruffle of wind through my feathers. He was in flight. He was all right.
Good, now to resume my examination of this place. Fresh bedding, pillows, and a door leading to a washroom with a bath, an actual, real live bath with running water. Hot running water. I closed and locked the door to the bedroom and then stripped off my sweaty clothes.
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