The Hellhound King

by Lori Devoti

  Marina’s eyes widened with concern. She touched her sister on the chin. “It could kill you. It gives Geir total control over you. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Ky tilted her head. “Are you saying you don’t mean to work with the royals? Are you planning something I should know about? Something that might cause our uncle to feel the need to threaten me?”

  Marina pulled back, her hands and heart cold. The conversation wasn’t going as she’d thought it would. Ky was different, but then what Marina had just told her, it had to have shaken her sister more than she was letting on.

  Marina placed her hands in her lap and forced her voice to stay steady and reassuring. “I don’t want you to be threatened. That’s why I’m here. Together maybe we can figure out a way to get rid of the inset.”

  Ky smiled, a flash of the little sister who’d greeted Marina on her return from the human world. “If it bothers you, I’ll have it removed. It isn’t a big deal, elves reverse them all the time.”

  Not the answer Marina was looking for, but maybe Ky was right. She’d lived with Geir while Marina was gone. Maybe what he’d told Marina wasn’t true, maybe there was another explanation to what had happened to Ky while Marina watched the flashing light from their uncle’s computer.

  But she didn’t think so.

  Marina stood. She’d done what she’d come to do, she’d told her sister. If Geir allowed Ky to have the inset removed, the issue would be over, if not…she’d know that Marina had told the truth, that Ky couldn’t trust their uncle. That would at least be a start to saving them both.

  Ky picked up a pair of shears and began clipping. Every few seconds she reached up and brushed her fingers over the ruby.

  Marina shoved the box into the pocket of her pants. Maybe it was time to talk to the elf lords. They created the technology. They would know a way to free her sister from the inset. It was that or let Geir use her and Ky forever.

  Her sister was right. She wasn’t the princess and she shouldn’t have to pay the price for Marina having the title.

  Raf found Geir in his office. He didn’t knock. He walked forward and grabbed the smaller male by the neck, shoved him up against the wall. “Let Marina go.”

  The royal didn’t object, made no reaction at all to Raf’s attack, simply lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t realize I was holding her prisoner.”

  “Are you saying the inset in her sister’s neck isn’t real?”

  Geir smiled. “Of course it’s real. I wouldn’t let my niece walk around with a fake.”

  Raf moved his fingers, pressed one and then another into Geir’s neck, until a raspy squeak escaped the royal’s throat. “Is it a booby trap? Did you cause her spell?”

  Marina’s uncle stared back at him, anger shining from his eyes. Raf moved closer, so his body was inches from the elf’s. He whispered in his ear. “I want it removed.” He released his hold and let the elf fall to the ground.

  Geir landed on his feet, jumped without falling. Rubbing his neck, he stared back at Raf and laughed. “So, you’re worried about Ky now? That is rich.” He shook his head, laughed again, then held up one hand. “You want the inset disarmed?” He reached past Raf to the lap drawer of his desk.

  When Raf moved to cut him off, he held up both hands. “I can’t do as you ask if you get in my way.”

  Raf hesitated, but stepped back. This was all too easy, too simple. He knew it, and he was prepared for the elf’s trickery.

  Geir pulled open the drawer and slipped his hand inside. Raf froze, ready to attack if the elf pulled out a weapon. When the royal’s hand reappeared, it turned out he was holding a computer storage device. He held it up, showed Raf, then slipped the small device into his laptop. A screen loaded with a flashing light appeared, just as Marina had described. Geir clicked on the light, and a small box opened over the current window.

  He paused, his hand poised above the mouse. “Are you sure you want it disarmed? Here—” he moved the mouse so the cursor changed to an arrow and pointed to a box that said something in elfin “—and the princess’s sister has another attack. Here—” he slid the arrow down one line “—she’s dead, and here—” the arrow slid lower, to the last line “—the inset is disarmed, becomes nothing more than a harmless, tacky adornment.”

  Raf stared at the royal, unsure what to make of his apparent invitation to kill Ky. “Disarm it,” he replied.

  Geir smiled and shrugged, then clicked on the last line. A word Raf couldn’t read appeared on the screen and the light quit flashing. Geir pulled the device out of his computer and handed it to Raf. “Without this, no one can activate Ky’s inset. You might want to keep it. You might find use for it later.”

  Raf stared at the tiny rectangle, no bigger than his thumbnail. “What happens if I destroy it?” Geir’s demeanor and willingness to hand over the computer drive was sending prickles of unease over the hellhound.

  Geir had sat down at his computer, seemed to be reading e-mail. He looked up as if surprised that Raf was still there. “Nothing, but you would lose control over Ky.” His attention moved back to the screen.

  Raf closed his fingers over the drive. Still confused, he moved toward the door.

  Geir called after him. “I’d keep it, if I were you.”

  Raf stared at him, waited for him to say more, but Geir, typing, seemed to have shut Raf out completely.

  Raf slipped the drive into his pocket. He knew Marina would want him to destroy it, but he couldn’t, not yet.

  Ky was Marina’s sister—in Alfheim did that make her a more likely friend or villain?

  Chapter 15

  T ahl stood by the front door, blocked it actually. Marina walked up, pretended she didn’t know he was there to stop her from leaving. “I’m going out for a while, to do some shopping. Will you tell Geir if you see him?” She reached for the handle. Tahl moved to the side, stymieing her attempt.

  “There’s trouble in Fisby, princess. Your uncle has requested you stay in today.”

  And every day, Marina added mentally. He didn’t want her communicating with the outside world. The phones were shut off and she had no access to a computer, either. The reporter and Raf were the only beings from outside this house she’d seen since her arrival. “I’m sure my uncle is just being overprotective. I did survive on my own in Gunngar.”

  Tahl didn’t move.

  Marina pressed her lips together. She could force Tahl out of her way, but that would be an obvious move of revolt—too obvious until she’d spoken with the elf lords and knew they could help save Ky. She smiled. “Have you seen Raf? I’m sure my uncle would feel I was safe with a hellhound with me.” If she could find Raf, he could shimmer her to the elf lords, or take a message to them himself, but she had searched the house and found no sign of him.

  “He met with your uncle earlier, but he’s been gone for some time. As I said, the streets are dangerous now. He may have ran into…difficulties.”

  The way he said it…“Do you know something? Has something happened to Raf?” Marina leaned forward, forgetting her role for a moment.

  Tahl shook his head. “Of course not. I’m just pointing out there is a reason your uncle wished for you to stay here.”

  Marina pressed her hands against her sides, to keep from doing something that would make her and Ky’s situation worse. Magic leaked from her palms, warmed her legs. She took a breath and tried to force it down. No one but Raf knew this secret. She wanted to keep it that way.

  The door to the garden banged. Marina turned, thinking Ky would appear, but a servant slid through the door instead and disappeared down the hall.

  Marina glanced back at Tahl, ready to argue. His gaze was directed at the garden, and the expression in his eyes….

  “Tahl?” Marina waited for him to look back at her. “You wouldn’t want my sister to be in danger would you?”

  He started, and Marina knew she’d guessed right. She stepped closer, murmured in a low voice, “I don’t need to go out to go s
hopping. I need to go out to save Ky.”

  He frowned. “Ky is fine. She’s in the garden.”

  Marina stared at the guard, hoped she wasn’t misjudging him. “It’s about the spells she’s been having. Our uncle is causing them.” She paused until she saw his reaction, shock and concern, then hurried, told him everything she’d told Ky and Raf about her sister’s inset.

  When she was done, Tahl paled. “Does Ky know?”

  Marina nodded. “I told her, but she doesn’t seem concerned.” She brushed her fingers over the guard’s arm. “She’s my sister. I don’t want to see her harmed.”

  “Of course.” Tahl’s gaze darted behind her, to the garden. He seemed to think for a moment, then finally, he looked at her. “I can’t let you leave. Geir would know, but if you write a message, I can get it to the elf lords.”

  A written message. It was dangerous. Marina committed very little to writing. In Alfheim, it just wasn’t wise. But she wanted to save Ky.

  She nodded.

  In the sitting room was a writing desk, stocked with heavy vellum, pens and sealing wax. She scribbled out a note, asking the elf lords to send a representative to her uncle’s home. She didn’t get specific in the note, but still if her uncle found it, it would be damning.

  Knowing the risk was huge, she lit a stub of sealing wax and watched bright red splashes fall onto the envelope. She held it for a second, pinched between her finger and thumb. Tahl watched, waited.

  She shook her head. Writing the note was foolhardy, but what choice did she have? And risk, though, it might be, she was willing to take it to save Ky.

  She handed the note to Tahl. A servant entered the room carrying a bucket filled with cleaning supplies. Tahl slipped the note inside his jacket and nodded for her to leave.

  She walked away, praying she’d judged Tahl correctly—that he loved her sister as much as she thought he did.

  Still no Raf, and no word from Tahl. Marina had stayed in her bedroom as long as she could stand, then came into the sitting room and flipped through an old magazine. It happened to be one filled with stories of her in Gunngar.

  She set it down, feeling a bit sick.

  The doorbell rang. Marina tensed, hoping the elf lords had sent someone. One of the Daes walked toward the door, but Ky cut her off and pulled it open first.

  Marina stood.

  Five elves dressed in the finest silk waited on the other side of the door. One by one they walked inside, kissing Ky on the cheek as they passed. The last one had two newspapers folded under his arm.

  Marina’s stomach clenched. Royals. She sat down and tried to look pleased.

  Ky lead their guests into the sitting area.

  “You remember my sister, the princess?”

  There was something about Ky’s tone, an edge, that made Marina sit straighter. She nodded and held out her hand. The royals walked up to her one by one, but none took her hand. She curled her fingers toward her wrist and slowly lowered her hand onto her lap.

  This couldn’t be good.

  “Yes, the princess.” The royal with the newspapers arched a brow. Marina returned his stare. He looked familiar. She searched her memory and came up with a name—Anton. He and her uncle had been friends and rivals. The two things tended to go together in Alfheim.

  “I see you’ve been reading.” He glanced at the magazine she’d dropped onto the couch cushion beside her. “So have I.” He unfolded the paper and held it up. An image of Raf and she dominated the page.

  “Geir had assured us when you returned from Gunngar, you’d understand your position better. But it doesn’t appear that you do.” He dropped the paper onto her lap.

  She didn’t glance down, just held his gaze. “I’m not responsible for what my uncle says.”

  He laughed. “But you are responsible for what you do, aren’t you?”

  She bowed her head in cool recognition of what he’d said. “Of course. We all are.”

  “What about this? Do you know anything about this?” He threw the second paper on top of the first. This time she glanced down.

  Another picture, this one older by a few days. Marina riding in the car next to Tahl and the other guards when she’d first arrived back in Alfheim. At first glance the photo was innocent enough, but the headline couldn’t be missed. “Princess Held Against Her Will by Royals.”

  Marina’s gaze darted back to the photo—this time she saw the circle highlighting her hands in her lap, bound with ties.

  She tossed the paper to the side and stood. “Who knew the media in Alfheim would print the truth?” It was a stupid move, but the mere presence of the royals reminded Marina why she had run away from Alfheim in the first place.

  Anton turned his gaze to the royals behind him. As one they stared at her. Hardly the explosive shocked reaction she’d hoped for.

  Behind them there was movement—Ky. Marina’s ire turned to dismay. She’d forgotten her sister, forgotten Geir’s threat.

  Fisting her hands at her sides, she forced herself to be calm. “What do you want? My uncle told me your plans. I won’t endanger Ky. If you want me to retract all of that—” she motioned to the newspapers that had fallen on the floor “—I will.” As she said it, she thought of Raf. This could cost Raf the stone. Marina hoped he could forgive her.

  Anton motioned for Ky to move forward. “Did you hear that? Your sister doesn’t want to endanger you. A bit late for that, don’t you think?” He reached into his jacket.

  Marina lunged, but Ky stepped in front of her. “Don’t. Don’t make it any worse.”

  Her heart pounding Marina stepped back. Her hair had fallen from its design. She could feel its weight on her shoulders.

  Anton’s hand crept into view. Instead of the weapon Marina had expected, he held an envelope—an envelope sealed with red wax.

  She closed her eyes, then opened them and gazed at her sister. “I’m sorry.”

  Tahl and three other guards moved into the room.

  Ky stared back, her midnight eyes dark and cold. “Are you? I’m not. This is exactly the proof I needed to convince the royals you are not fit to be princess, that you will never be fit. Our uncle, who you insisted on hating, was the only one who believed in you, the only one who kept me from the position I deserved. But then you came home and handed me the crown. I should thank you, and I will. When I cry at your funeral, I’ll thank you for being too conceited to realize who your greatest threat was.”

  Her sister turned on her heel and walked toward the door. “Let me know when it’s done. Until then, I’ll be in my room picking out my mourning outfit.”

  Anton stepped back and the other royals parted. Tahl and the guards moved closer. Marina stared at all of them for a second, not understanding what had just happened.

  Her sister who she’d thought she was protecting was ordering her killed—eliminated so she could have the role Marina had never asked for or wanted.

  Only in Alfheim could something this twisted happen. And only to Marina, because like a fool, she’d trusted again.

  The guards were close now, all with swords drawn. Marina swallowed, forcing down the hurt. She was going to die, but she was going to do it on her terms.

  Power surged through her body. It was time to reveal her secret to the elves.

  She looked forward to the surprise.

  Alfheim had gone mad. Elves ran down the streets, and store doors slammed shut. In the distance there were explosions and screams.

  And Raf forced himself to ignore it all. As he and Marina had discussed, there was no saving Alfheim, nothing he or Marina could do. Instead he had to concentrate on saving the two he could—Marina and her sister.

  He pulled out the computer drive Geir had given him and stared at it. He might hold the key in his hand, but there had been something off with Geir’s reactions. Raf couldn’t risk believing him. He had to know for sure the drive was what Geir had said, that by destroying it Raf would disarm the inset, and the only being he could think of t
hat might be able to tell was Sim.

  He was outside the castle; the drawbridge was closed. It was the middle of the day—during the time Sim had bragged the grounds were open for picnics and weddings.

  Another explosion sounded; this one closer.

  Raf blew out a breath. He needed to see the elf lord and he didn’t feel like waiting. Seemed a good time to check the castle’s defense against shimmering.

  He relaxed and pictured where he wanted to be—in the inner bailey, next to the statues. Within seconds that is where he stood, but everything looked very different.

  Picnic tables were overturned. The statue of the children with the crown and the sword was on its side. An arm had broken off. Raf picked it up; the child’s hand still grasped its sword.

  Raf tossed it back down.

  Looked like someone had decided to challenge the elf lords’ claim, but who? The bailey was empty.

  His gaze moved to the keep. The stone. If the elf lords had left, where was the stone? His heels digging into the dirt, he stalked toward the door.

  He was only a few feet away, when someone landed in front of him. Raf stopped. His head lowering and his stance widening, he glared at the threat—the elf who’d challenged him the last time he’d visited.

  “The elf lords are gone.” The guard held a short sword in each hand.

  There was something about how he stood, how he lowered his body instead of springing forward as another elf might…Raf paused, considered.

  “You’re different than other elves. Had different training,” he announced.

  The guard bared his teeth. “I’m better. You have issue with that?”

  Raf shrugged. “Just means I’ll have to shake a little harder before I snap through your neck.”

  “Shake away, hellhound.” The guard shifted his blades so one was held above his head and one at his waist—both were pointed at Raf. “Things are peaking. Time for you to disappear.” His eyes were wild; he bounced forward.

  Raf shimmered, appeared behind him. “What things?”

  The elf growled. “None of your business. Alfheim is none of your business. You don’t belong here—never will.”