The Empty Throne

by Cayla Kluver

  “Does it make you sad to talk about it?” he softly asked.

  “A little, but it’s easier than it once was. I’m coming to terms with a lot of things.” I smiled and brushed the hair off his forehead. “Some adjustments have benefits.”

  He nodded, then kissed the palm of my hand. “You know, humans and Fae may not be as different as we think. After all, the spirit we humans feel inside us sounds similar in concept to an elemental connection. At least, it’s what we believe connects us to each other and our God. And it enables us to feel our God’s presence.”

  I cocked my head, considering his words, then nodded eagerly. “According to Fae Lore, ages and ages ago in the time of the Old Fae, there was a fifth elemental connection known as ether. Your concept of the spirit sounds much like our lost element of ether.”

  “Ether?”

  “Yes, the Old Fae, the original Fae, didn’t have just one elemental connection—each of them had all five. And it was the element of ether that enabled them to communicate with each other without the need for words, and to communicate with other living creatures in the same way.”

  I warmed to the subject, a touch of excitement entering my voice.

  “The last remaining vestiges of ether in our world exist between betrothed and married couples, creating a special bond between them. During my betrothal to Davic, I could feel when he was in trouble, and it was how he could call me home from my travels, if necessary.”

  I stopped, hit by a wave of emotion so strong it took my breath away. The words had been tumbling from my mouth without emotional impact—until now. I looked down at the quilt, plucking at its threads, a profound sense of loss flowing through me.

  “Anya?” Tom prompted. When I did not reply, he placed a hand under my chin and lifted my head, then gave me a tender kiss.

  “What is it, Anya? Where has your mind gone?”

  “Talking about...certain things is just harder than I expected it to be.”

  “Talking about what things? Davic?”

  I shook my head and met his eyes. They were so full of concern and affection that I had no choice but to explain.

  “I’m not sure how much you know about me from Luka, but Shea’s family found me and took care of me after my wings were taken. I was quite ill, but nonetheless attempted to contact Davic through our promise bond, wanting him to know I needed help.”

  My voice grew thick, my memories dragging my emotional turmoil along with them. I briefly closed my eyes, then forced out the rest.

  “But I couldn’t feel him—that’s when I knew I wasn’t truly Fae anymore.”

  Tom gave me another gentle kiss on the lips. “I can’t imagine what you went through, or how difficult it must be to talk about it. But I’m here, and I’ll help you in any way I can, promise bond or no.”

  I touched his face, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingers, tracing his cheekbone and his warm lips. Then I lay down beneath him, running my hands through his hair. He bent toward me, his mouth slowly approaching mine, the connection when it came hungrier than it had been, his desire lighting a fire in me that chased all the memories away. Afraid I would completely lose focus if I didn’t soon raise the issue of a trip into Tairmor, I buried my hands in his hair to force his lips from mine.

  “Tom,” I murmured. “I’ve never been in a church. Would you take me to visit one?”

  “A church?” he sighed, shifting to kiss my neck. “Anything you wa—”

  He abruptly stopped, then groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position.

  “Anya, you know I can’t take you into the city.”

  “Why not?” I huffed, supporting myself on my elbows, thinking my request perfectly reasonable in light of our conversation.

  “Luka’s orders, remember?”

  Exasperated, I shifted onto my knees. “Do I look dangerous to you? I mean, what exactly does Luka think I’ll do?”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s not my place to question.”

  “But I haven’t been able to go anywhere for days! And the atmosphere around the mansion hasn’t been the most agreeable. I need to get away, just for a few hours, or I’ll go crazy.”

  Tom laughed and came to his feet. “Is that why you showed up here tonight? To convince me to take you into Tairmor? Because this approach of yours isn’t going to work on me.” He waved his hand toward the quilt, and I flushed, the heat of embarrassment coursing through me. Leaning back against the platform’s railing, he added, “I’ll do almost anything for you, Anya, but putting my head on the chopping block with Luka isn’t particularly appealing.”

  “But why would Luka need to know? Couldn’t you take me into Tairmor without telling him?”

  He ran his hand through his hair, straightening out the kinks I had created, then shook his head.

  “I’m not going to sneak you out of here against Luka’s orders. But for a good reason, I’d be willing to seek his permission to take you into the city. So if you want my help, you need to start talking, and not about going stir-crazy. I want the real reason you need to go into Tairmor.”

  I knew this was an opportunity to open up to Tom about Shea and Zabriel and the happenings on Evernook Island, but I wasn’t yet ready to place that much trust in him. I still didn’t know the objective of the game my cousins and I had uncovered, the layout of the game board, or who controlled the pieces. And so I told him a piece of the truth.

  “Shea and I had a fight, and we both said things we didn’t mean, and we didn’t part on the friendliest of terms. But I’ve had time since then to think it over and would like to make amends. I found out shortly before I was brought here by Luka that her family has moved back to the city. So I’d like to see her, just to make things right.”

  “And that’s the truth?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I’ll talk to Luka. But if he says no, I won’t sneak you out of here. And I’m serious when I say I could lose my head over this—or at least my position—so please don’t cause any trouble should he grant your request.”

  “I promise.”

  He sighed, then returned to the quilt to sit beside me. “I think I’ll go with the stir-crazy story—maybe if I tell him you’ve been eating bugs, he’ll see the need.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just don’t ask me to demonstrate.”

  “I won’t,” he said with a chuckle, reaching out to caress my cheek. “But I think that’s enough about the Lieutenant Governor. I didn’t come out here to talk about work. I’m more interested in a little pleasure.”

  I smiled, quite interested in pleasure myself, and he gently laid me down on the quilt, his mouth once more possessing mine.

  Sometime later, feeling happier than I had in a long time, I drifted off to sleep, nestled beside him.

  * * *

  Zabriel stood on the execution plank, his accusatory eyes fixed on me, his hands and ankles bound. His wings were on proud display, but the weights attached to his legs prevented him from making an escape.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to him, but he spat at my feet.

  My eyes went past him to fall on Tom, standing on a second plank, likewise extended over the ravine, and my heart lurched. Why was he here? What had he done?

  I turned to look at Luka Ivanova in the viewing box, and his piercing blue eyes gave me the answer. Tom was being punished because of me—because he had disobeyed Luka’s orders and helped me to...But what had he helped me do?

  Then Governor Ivanova stepped to the front of the viewing box. I watched in horror as he raised his hand, preparing to signal the dropping of the planks.

  “No,” I cried, rushing toward him. But I was picked off my feet by Marcus Farrier, who turned me to face my cousin and my beloved, forcing me to watch.

  “Drop, drop, drop,” chanted the cro
wd.

  I knew the Governor’s hand had sliced the air because the guards at the scaffolding moved forward. Then the planks shuddered and fell, sending Tom and Zabriel plummeting toward their deaths. And all I could do was scream.

  * * *

  “Anya, wake up!”

  Tom’s voice penetrated my nightmare, and my eyes flew open. He was sitting up, shaking me and calling my name, fear upon his face. Realizing I was awake, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.

  “It was just a bad dream, Anya. Everything’s all right.”

  “I know,” I choked, tears streaming down my cheeks and soaking into his shirt.

  Though I said the words, I didn’t believe them. The world was full of danger, full of death, and the trail Zabriel and I were following could get us killed. I clutched at Tom—it could get him killed.

  “Do you want to tell me about the dream?”

  I shook my head, and he fell silent, content to hold me. When my tears had dried and my racing heart had settled down, I shifted away from him.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry, Anya. Is this what happens at night? Is this why you don’t sleep?”

  I nodded, then gave him a small smile. “It didn’t end well, but the sleep I had in your arms was better than most.”

  “That’s good to know—I’m more than willing to hold you. But it might be good to talk about your nightmares. Sometimes it helps to bring our demons out into the open. It can take away their power over us.”

  “I’ll think about it. But a lot of my dreams don’t make much sense.”

  “That’s okay—mine don’t always make sense, either. Who knows? Maybe it would help if we shared the strange things our minds conjure with each other.”

  He came to his feet, the sun rising over his shoulder, bathing him in soft morning light. “I hate to say it, but I’d better deliver you back inside before you’re missed. And I’ve got to get ready for work. Luka won’t give me a day off just because I spent the night stargazing.”

  I accepted his extended hand, and he pulled me up beside him. “Do you want to meet again tonight?”

  “I’d like to, but I think we run a little too much risk of being caught.”

  Tom’s eyebrows rose, and I tugged on a strand of my hair, feeling flustered. I didn’t want our time together to end badly.

  “I’m not unwilling to let people know about us, Tom, but it’s too soon after I called off my betrothal. I don’t want my family and the rest of the Fae party to get the wrong impression.” I frowned, wondering how many times and in how many ways I could poorly phrase things. “What I mean is...my relationship would inevitably have ended with Davic, just maybe not this quickly. I guess I don’t want you to get blamed for anything.” I squinted at him, sun in my eyes, unsure if I was making things better or worse, and he brushed my hair behind my shoulders.

  “I understand—if I had to guess, I’d say Davic’s not the most adaptable fellow. And I’m quite certain he’s a fool. No one with any sense would let you go without a fight.” He smiled wistfully. “My one regret is that I don’t have as much time to spend with you as I’d like.”

  I grinned, my mood improving rapidly. “If you convince Luka to let you take me into Tairmor, maybe we can spend the day together. That would give you a healthy dose of time with me.”

  “Now that’s what I call incentive. But in the meantime, if you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Yes—with your sidekick, Marcus Farrier.”

  He chuckled, then picked up the quilt. “I don’t think Marcus would like being called my sidekick. He’s the one in charge—after Luka, that is.”

  “What’s the Constable like?”

  “He can be a bit gruff, and he’s a stickler for the rules. But he’s good at his job. I just wouldn’t want to cross him.”

  “Is he married?”

  “No—I suppose he’s too devoted to his career.”

  I nodded, then ventured one more question. “How long has he worked for Luka?”

  Tom scratched his head. “I’m not sure, but it’s been a long time. Why are you so interested?”

  “No real reason. I just see him around the mansion—and with you.” I smiled teasingly. “Maybe I’m jealous.”

  “No need to be jealous of Marcus. Now Konstantin, that’s another story.”

  He grinned and motioned with his hand for me to descend the stairway. When we stood outside on the dew-dipped grass, he gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “If you need to see me, I’d prefer we arrange another meeting in the aviary.”

  Tom headed off across the grounds, and I gazed after him, admiring his trim form and confident stride. Then I started down the path through the gardens to reenter the mansion, mulling over the information I’d garnered about Constable Farrier. He’s the one in charge—after Luka, that is, Tom had said. Might he have the requisite power to manipulate government resources, such as Evernook Island, and to control people like Hastings for his own purposes? It was time I added Marcus Farrier to the list of things about which I needed to talk to Zabriel.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MORE CLOCKS, MORE CABINETRY, MORE SKILL

  Officer Matlock was true to his word, and somehow secured the Lieutenant Governor’s permission to take me into Tairmor that very afternoon. The sky was gray, threatening rain—perfectly in keeping with my mood. Tom had procured a carriage as promised, and we were on our way to the market district where I’d seen workmen hanging the sign for Thatcher More’s Shop: More Clocks, More Cabinetry, More Skill.

  “Tell me again why we’re going to the store rather than to Shea’s home?” Tom asked from his position across from me on the carriage benches.

  I looked out the window, pretending to be entranced by the view of the streets. “I don’t actually know where Shea lives, although I do know where the shop is located.”

  “Anya, if you want to go to Shea’s house, we can.” He put a hand on my arm, forcing me to look at him. “I can easily get that information, and you know it.”

  I shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant. “All right, then, I’d rather go to the shop. I don’t really want to run into the whole family.”

  I gave him a small smile, hoping he’d drop the matter, for the truth was I didn’t really want to see Shea. But if I told him that, he’d want to know why. Of course, he persisted, either his curiosity or his law enforcement instincts engaged.

  “And if she’s not at the store?”

  “I’ll talk to Thatcher—Shea’s father. He can give her a message for me.”

  Tom settled back on the bench seat, arms crossed, one eyebrow cocked. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You told me you wanted to talk to Shea and make things right—and now you’re willing to leave a message with her father. That doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me everything?”

  “Who says I have to tell you everything?”

  “You don’t.” He leaned forward and took my good hand in his. “But this evasion game you play leaves me trying to make sense out of nonsense. You don’t have to hide things from me.”

  I smirked and pulled my hand away. “Are you talking as Tom or as Officer Matlock?”

  “Is that what this is about?” He chuckled, and glanced out the carriage window. “Look, Anya, I’m not going to use anything you tell me against you—I thought you’d figured that out by now. But I’m getting the feeling my job may require me to delve into things you don’t want to discuss.”

  “In that case, good luck to you.”

  We stared at each other for a moment; then I returned to looking out the window, my anxiety on the rise. The more I thought of Shea, the more I realized I wasn’t ready to see her in person, and the more desperatel
y I hoped she wouldn’t be at the store. By the time we entered the market district, I had chewed the inside of one of my cheeks raw and bloody.

  I asked Tom to have the driver stop the horses about a block away from the shop, wanting to approach at my own pace. A light drizzle was falling, but my escort had thought to bring an umbrella, more foresight than I could have mustered on such a day as this. I was about to talk to the father of the young woman—if not the young woman herself—I had once considered a good friend, the young woman who had betrayed Zabriel for money, the young woman whose actions could have put the Prince of the Fae in his grave.

  We walked steadily closer, Tom’s hand resting comfortingly on the small of my back. My stomach churned, my head ached, and my hands trembled, but I was determined to see this through. With any luck, all I’d have to do was give Thatcher the warning intended for his daughter. After that, I could leave, and Tom and I could spend the rest of the afternoon together.

  Tom opened the door when we reached the shop, allowing me to step inside ahead of him. There were several other people milling about, examining the merchandise, providing me with a moment to gather my courage. I glanced toward the man at the counter, surprised to see it was someone other than Thatcher. Business must indeed be good, for it appeared he had his own store clerk.

  “Is that Thatcher?” Tom murmured in my ear, and I shook my head. “Would you like me to ask if he’s here?”

  This time I nodded, beginning to wonder if my voice would work when I actually needed it.

  Tom approached to exchange a few words, while I hung in the background, looking at some of the lovely mantel clocks Thatcher had built. There were also shelves, small tables, and trunks of various sizes. Just as I had back in the small cabin in the Balsam Forest where the More family had originally cared for me, I marveled at Thatcher’s craftsmanship—he was not only a master carpenter but a master carver.

  “Anya? Is that you?”

  I recognized the voice before I turned to face the man approaching me, and my gut tightened. On some level, I hadn’t wanted Thatcher to be in the store today, hadn’t wanted to face any of the Mores. While that would have prevented me from delivering the warning, I could have appeased Zabriel by reporting I’d made the effort.