Court of Dreams (Institute of the Shadow Fae Book 4)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Everyone in the Institute wanted you dead, since you’re a terrorist and an abomination.”

  Any icy shard of rage. Before I kill you, you will watch your own teeth rot and fall from your mouth like October leaves. Your blood will spatter on your porcelain sink.

  I slowed my breathing, trying to behave like a normal fae. “I do not feel that abomination is an accurate description of my nature.”

  Or did I?

  “You know what?” Aengus shot back. “I don’t actually feel the need to explain this to you. You’re coming with me now.”

  “Care to share where we’re going?”

  “Not particularly,” said Aengus. He unlocked the iron bars, and the door creaked open. With all the iron in my blood, I couldn’t make a break for it even if I’d wanted to.

  I gripped the jagged rocks, trying to pull myself up, but my body was weak from the iron poisoning. Halfway up, I grew dizzy and fell back into the rough walls. Then, with an iron will, I righted myself.

  As I stepped into the hall, Aengus gripped me hard by the elbow, yanking me out. The sudden movement stirred a wave of nausea, and I turned away from him to vomit back into the Palatial Room. From the burning, I was pretty sure it was mostly the whiskey from the day before. I wiped a shaking hand across the back of my mouth.

  If things went really poorly, I’d probably be executed in a horrific manner. If things went well, I’d probably end up sitting in that pile of my vomit. That was a best-case scenario.

  “Are you quite finished?” asked Aengus.

  I straightened as best I could, then leaned into him. “I’m realizing, now, I made a mistake when I aimed in the other direction.”

  “You smell disgusting,” he said.

  I smiled at him, pleased he had to deal with my stench. “Do I offend your delicate sensibilities? At one point, I thought you were a warrior. Silly me. You really ought to leave here and form a knitting club.”

  “Are you scared of dying?” asked Aengus.

  A flash of fury lit me up, the death angel straining on her tether. “I want you to know I’m acting with a great deal of restraint right now, Aengus.”

  Choke on bile.

  Aengus’s sallow cheeks paled even further.

  I’d known the risks when I’d come in here, that I’d probably be hit with arrows. I’d never imagined that Ruadan would allow my death.

  Of all the things Ruadan could have been doing—fortifying the castle, finding Baleros—instead, he’d spent these weeks floating around in the shadow void?

  When you loved someone, you did anything in your power to save them. Meanwhile, he’d slipped off to the shadow void.

  Betrayal pressed down hard on my broken body. “Killing me won’t solve your problem. Baleros is coming for Ruadan whether I’m here or not.”

  We reached the top of the stairs, and Aengus unlocked another iron gate. When he pushed through the next set of doors into a hall, sunlight streaming through the peaked windows blinded me. So, it was daytime.

  Wincing, I held up a hand to shield my eyes. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I leaned into Aengus again while darkness claimed my mind.

  Chapter 7

  A shock of cold woke me—icy water trickling down my hair, my shoulders.

  I lay flat on my back on the flagstones, staring up at Aengus and Niall. Barry stood just behind them, one of his false eyebrows drooping.

  “There,” said Aengus. “She’s awake again. Pity the ice water didn’t wash the stench away.”

  He held out his hand to help me up, but at this point, I’d walk on my own two feet if it killed me.

  With a great deal of effort, I forced myself up onto my elbows. Grimacing, I rolled to my side, then pushed myself up to a sitting position. On shaking legs, I stood slowly.

  When I’d straightened as much as I could, I felt magic whispering down my shoulder blades.

  I shot a ferocious look to Aengus. Cross me, fae, and your body will wither and rot like a blighted plant. I stared into his bloodshot eyes, and the urge to unleash death nearly overwhelmed me.

  Shaking, I turned from him to face the throne room.

  When I hobbled into the hall, I tuned out everything else except Ruadan before me. I forgot about my filthy appearance, the piss on my trousers, the fake caveman trailing behind me. I forgot how much I hated Aengus, and the pain wracking my body. I barely registered the other Shadow Fae lined up in the hall on either side of me, gaping at me.

  My eyes were locked only on Ruadan, and his on mine. His piney scent hit me, tinged with apples. And for that moment, the death angel drifted away from me.

  Ruadan looked as electrified as I felt. He straightened when he saw me, his entire body tense. Darkness swirled in his eyes, and shadows writhed in the air around him. As our gazes met, the temperature in the room plummeted about twenty degrees. The flames on top of the torches wavered in the blast of cold air, some of them snuffing out.

  My gaze swept over him, taking in his powerful body, the thickly corded muscles and savage tattoos that covered his forearms—the silver crown that gleamed on his head. He was a vision of pure, dark power. Aengus had been right. The Plague hadn’t touched him.

  I may not have looked like it from the outside, but a dark power lived within me, too—my own destructive monster, tethered in its cage. They’d threatened to eviscerate me. I should be unleashing that power now, letting it tear through every living creature in here. But some primal, instinctive power compelled me to protect Ruadan, even now.

  Was it the same for him? As he stared at me, he gripped the arms of his throne so tight it looked like he could crack the stone, his obsidian eyes piercing me.

  In his view, I was a threat to the Institute. I’d infected them and taken their mist army. Logic dictated that I needed to die for the good of the Shadow Fae.

  Logic also dictated that I should kill all of them before they had the chance.

  You will sicken—

  A rocky barrier rose in my mind, slamming right into my death thoughts. What was that about?

  “Liora,” said Ruadan. The sound of my real name on his tongue wrapped around my body like silk. The sensual voice of an incubus, as deadly as his wrath.

  “Grand Master Ruadan,” I said.

  “The Shadow Fae here believe you are part of Baleros’s plans to weaken our defenses. They believe you spread the Plague.”

  I held my breath. If Ruadan lost faith in me, I wouldn’t be able to take it. The betrayal would be a sword in my heart.

  “You transformed into your angelic form,” he went on. “You broke into the Institute, armed.”

  A coughing fit erupted in the hall, echoing off the high ceiling. I glanced at the other fae around me. Melusine stood huddled against a pillar, her eyes glassy. Apart from Ruadan, demigod that he was, everyone in the room looked sick—pale skin, dry lips, shadows beneath their eyes.

  “I broke in here to give you a message,” I said. “There is a traitor in here, and he is the one who spread the Plague.”

  Aengus folded his hands in front of him. “The traitor is obviously you. No one else doubts that, right?”

  “It is obvious,” said Niall. “And if nothing else, she is a child of the apocalypse. It is our mission to destroy her kind.”

  “And by the way.” Anger laced my voice. “While you were floating in a giant black hole for the past few weeks, we could have been teaming up to kill Baleros. I mean kill him for good.

  Ruadan’s head tilted back, and he stared at me, challenging.

  Aengus stepped into the center of the room. “Let’s get back to the execution.”

  Melusine cleared her throat. “If I may speak? Grand Master? It seems to me that we know the Old Gods chose Liora. They knew what she was, and they chose her anyway. We saw what happened to Grand Master Savus when he tried to defy their will.”

  I was pretty sure I heard Aengus mutter something about how the Old Gods were wrong.

  Ruadan’s dark magic whippe
d at the air around him. “The Old Gods approve of her. And now, her guilt or innocence will be determined by another of the earthly gods.”

  Tension crackled in the air.

  “Why are we giving her this chance?” Niall protested. “It’s obvious she spread the Plague here in the Institute.”

  “I have been in the void for weeks.” Ruadan’s tone brooked no argument. “This is what Nyxobas has instructed me to do. He will put her on trial in the void. As you know, he does not lie. He will inhabit my body, and we will hear from Nyxobas directly. After all, it is not for us to decide. It is for the gods to decide. Do any of you have any further arguments?”

  Cold silence filled the room, and Ruadan’s gaze slid over all the Shadow Fae.

  Before anyone could utter another word, the room started to change, darkening. A shadowy form rose up behind Ruadan, looming over the hall, silvery eyes burning like stars. Horns loomed above his head in a crescent shape.

  I shivered at the vision of the god of night. His presence was dizzying, and I felt like I was standing on the edge of a precipice. I stared ahead of me as the shadow god slipped into Ruadan’s body. Star-tinged darkness shimmered around him, and his eyes blazed with silver starlight. Ruadan’s tattoos began snaking over his powerful forearms, resembling living creatures.

  Dread trembled over my skin. Imbued with the essence of Nyxobas, shadows breathed around Ruadan, and he loomed over the hall.

  I felt tiny before him. Broken, too.

  A glacial coldness took over the room. I shivered, hugging myself. Was the trial beginning already? I wasn’t ready.

  The voice that Ruadan used to speak was not his own, but seemed to come from the iciest depths of Hell. “Chaos reigns in the Institute.”

  His pale gaze fell on me. Despite my primal instinct to flee from an earthly god, I forced myself to stay still. Looking at a god was like facing a wild animal. If I showed fear, he’d eat me alive. With an iron will, I straightened my spine.

  “Half angel,” said Nyxobas. “Celestial harbinger of death. Half fae, of the Old Gods. Her presence here sows discord. A traitor lives among you, spreading plague. Only a death angel can fix it. Did the deathling cause this, or another? Each of you will prove your loyalty by leaping into the void. In the vast shadows, you will prove your purity. Once I have found the traitor, the portal will seal over.”

  The shadows faded around Ruadan, and the godlike enormity slipped away.

  I let out the long breath I’d been holding.

  So this was Ruadan’s ploy to maintain control within the Institute—bring in the big guns. Almost no one wanted me here, but they wouldn’t argue with Nyxobas.

  Aengus looked furious. “All of us are to be tested? You know the risks of leaping into the void.”

  I didn’t, as it happened. “What are they, exactly?”

  Melusine raised her hand and immediately began speaking. “I know this one. Time can pass differently in the void. And if you spend too long there, you will return as a demon.”

  Ruadan still gripped the armrests of his throne. “Nyxobas’s decision is clear. You all go into the shadow hell. Succeed, and you join us again. Fail, and it means you are a traitor to the Institute. Nyxobas will seal the portal and claim your soul.”

  So that’s what Nyxobas got out of this. The man loved claiming souls.

  I stared at the Grand Master, shadows still pooling in his eyes. Was this all an elaborate way of getting me off the Institute’s kill list?

  “Grand Master—” Aengus began.

  One withering look from Ruadan silenced him. “You are all dismissed. All of you apart from Liora.”

  Around me, the other Shadow Fae turned and began marching out of the room. Fury etched their features, and at least two of them made rude gestures at me.

  When they’d all left, the heavy oak door closed behind them, leaving me alone with the Grand Master.

  He rose from his throne and crossed to me, moving swiftly. “Your attack on the Tower was not a good idea.”

  “It wasn’t an attack. I was trying to speak to you about the traitor’s threat.” My mouth and throat felt like sandpaper.

  Ruadan scooped me up as if I weighed no more than a sparrow, and I leaned into his chest. I closed my eyes, listening to his heart as he carried me.

  “Why did you slip away to the void for weeks? We could have been doing something more useful, like teaming up to kill Baleros.”

  He held me tight, walking with me in his arms. “I killed him before I went into the void. I hunted him down and sliced Emerazel’s sigil off his body. Then I cut off his head.”

  I opened my eyes, my heart leaping. “You did? So he’s dead?”

  His features darkened. “Cutting off the sigil didn’t work like we thought it would. He returned. Emerazel brought him back.”

  Nausea curdled my stomach. “You mean we can’t kill him?”

  “Everything can be killed. I just don’t know how, yet.”

  I leaned into his chest again as he carried me down the stairs. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “To fix you before your trial. Nyxobas could return at any point, but I don’t want you going into the shadow hell broken like this.” His seductive voice held an edge I couldn’t ignore.

  Already, his soothing magic was whispering over me.

  “Speaking of running out of time, we need to keep you safe. Baleros’s agent could attack at any moment.”

  “Shhh,” he said. His grasp on me was impossibly gentle, like he was afraid of breaking me.

  And yet, when I looked up at his face, I could see a cold, hard rage written there, and the Wraith’s perfect features blazed with the ancient wrath of an unforgiving god.

  Chapter 8

  Ruadan lay me gently by his burbling stone bath. Outside, the sun was setting, and vibrant pumpkin rays streamed through the warped window glass. The light washed over the beautiful planes of Ruadan’s face, giving him a warmth that contrasted with his cold expression.

  I couldn’t feel the pain in my chest anymore, but I felt weak as a withering dandelion.

  I blinked, trying to focus. The iron was not only messing with my body, but it had started to screw with my mind, too.

  “I’m going to undress you.”

  “Fine.” My mouth tasted like a dry riverbed, and clouds had gathered in my mind. “Wait, why?”

  “The water will help to clean your wounds, and the angelica and lavender in the bath will help me to heal you. They will slow the spread of the iron in your system while I pull it out with my healing magic.”

  Someone had turned my throat into gravel. “I need something to drink.”

  I lay against the stony bath while Ruadan crossed back into his room. He returned a moment later with a tall glass of water. I took it from him and drank it down. Water had never tasted so delicious and pure before.

  While I slaked my thirst, Ruadan crouched by my side. I put the glass down on the stone, and nodded at Ruadan, signaling that I was ready for him to undress me. I probably could have managed it myself, but I didn’t want to move any more than I absolutely had to.

  Ruadan reached for me, and he unbuttoned the top of my dress, fingers brushing against my skin. Powerful, cold anger rippled off him. Given how gentle his movements were, his rage didn’t fit.

  When I looked at him this closely, I saw the full force of it—the angry set of his jaw, the eyes black as gleaming jet. Icy mist clouded the air, and a frigid breeze rushed over the stone floor. For a moment, I almost wondered if Nyxobas had returned. But no—it was just Ruadan, furious as hells.

  Why was he so mad at me?

  My own fury started simmering. We should be on the same side, but he was rejecting me just because I’d had the misfortune to be born as a death angel. When it came down to it, I had been loyal to him. When I’d unleashed the death angel, I’d been trying to save him. Did he not care about that?

  He was still unbuttoning my dress, and my helplessness before him only added
to my anger.

  I sort of wanted to punch him in the jaw and tell him to piss off with his trial. I’d make a speech on my way out. Something about how we are defined by our actions and not our births, and anyway he was a heartbreaking monster, too, so who was he to judge.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, still working on my speech. Oh, and by the way, Breaker of Hearts, I’m sorry your brothers died, but you ruined my life, too, when you invaded that day, and don’t fuck with death angels if you don’t want people to die. That’s how it works.

  Still, I thought maybe it was better to wait until after he’d healed me before I launched into it. Like, it might be more effective when I could stand independently.

  He’d unbuttoned my dress down to my navel, his eyes deeply intent on my wounds. Each one of his muscles was tightly bound, and he looked like a coiled animal ready to strike.

  Anger rippled through me, so hot I was pretty sure I snarled. He’d come into my world and ripped it apart. If he’d never come, I wouldn’t have killed everyone in the first place.

  I will scatter your ashes to the—

  A barrier of black rock slammed into my mind. Then, an acrid wave of nausea rose in my gut, interrupting my thought.

  I was starting to understand. When it came to Ruadan, my death instinct felt as wrong as the iron in my blood. Deep inside, my death magic warred with an insane, animal sense of protectiveness over him.

  Why had I taken arrows for him to get in here? What the hells was wrong with me?

  I let out a long breath, then closed my eyes. Mentally, I was drifting. Ruadan had ruined my old life, and right now, it was coming back to me so vividly. I hardly ever allowed myself to think of Eden, because when I did, a sharp tendril of pain curled through me. Now, visions of my home burbled into my mind like spring water: swimming in the clear creek with my mum, the tiny gemstones gleaming in her forehead. My dad used to call me Bug. I couldn’t remember why. I think it had started as Lovebug and just got shortened. Once, he’d engraved my nickname on the mantle over the hearth, then etched a crescent moon around it.