Queen of Fire

by K. V. Adair

  “Not when I’m talking to you,” I replied with my sweetest, mocking smile.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. It was a little endearing. “To be fair, your brother won’t know the best way to navigate the nobles. They don’t give him trouble. He commands; they cower. It won’t be the same for you. As for Aidan… he’s been gone a very long time. And even before that, his involvement with the court was low.”

  “But you’re a master of it?”

  “Honestly? Not really. My forte is on the battle field.”

  “Then how are you going to be any help?”

  “I read,” he said. “A lot.”

  “You’re a nerd. That’s surprising considering…” I gestured in his direction.

  “Considering what?” He looked down as if he had no idea what I was talking about. “I’m not sure what a nerd is.”

  “Someone who lives life through books and prizes intelligence over a social life.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

  “Thus, you’re a nerd. Though a nerd soldier is a new one. How do you have the time to fight and read?”

  He shrugged. “There’s a lot of downtime.”

  A part of me screamed to run, to get the hell away from this charming, slightly dorky, man. When I examined why—it wasn’t like he was being threatening, just the opposite—I realized I didn’t really want to leave.

  Trust no one.

  I gave him a small smile. “I suppose we can meet up after the wedding tomorrow and exchange information.”

  “I don’t think that was sarcastic. Though, a bit insincere.”

  We stared at each other for a moment. Me unable to turn and walk away, and him making no sign of doing it, either.

  “It was nice to meet you…” I had forgotten his name.

  “Feoras.”

  “Nice to meet you, Feoras. Have a good—”

  “There you freaking are. I’ve been looking everywhere,” Aidan said, looking exasperated.

  Where had he come from? Had I been paying so little attention to my surroundings?

  “Where the hell have you been?” I asked. Ten minutes ago I would have given anything for Aidan to show up. Now, I was just pissy about it. “You wouldn’t have had to look for me if you’d been at the presentation.”

  “I was detained.”

  “Detained?”

  He glanced over at Feoras, a scowl on his face. “We’ll talk about it later. Excuse us, Prince Feoras. The princess needs her rest.”

  The formality of Aidan’s words and tone were so unfamiliar, for a moment I wasn’t sure I’d be safe with him, either.

  Aidan made no move for us to leave, clearly expecting Feoras to be the one to walk away.

  Feoras bowed in my direction. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Princess Morrigan. Until the next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time,” Aidan muttered under his breath.

  “A bit possessive, aren’t we?” Feoras smirked. “I don’t blame you, but you’re a braver Fae than I.”

  I wasn’t sure how he had heard Aidan’s words; I barely had.

  Aidan’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t respond to the taunt. Instead, he grabbed my hand in his and led me down the hall.

  “Sleep well, you two,” Feoras called from behind. “Remember. The princess needs her rest.”

  Aidan’s grip on my hand tightened, but still he remained silent until we exited the hallway.

  As soon as we were alone, I spoke. “So weird thing. When I’d entered the hall—”

  “You need to be more careful, M. What did I say?”

  “I’m fine. I had everything under control.” I decided not to tell him about Gavin, or even about the never-ending hall of doom. He’d never let me out of his sight.

  I loved him, but I had my limits. Constant surveillance was one of them. Though being avoided entirely wasn’t what I wanted, either.

  He scoffed. “Bravado is going to get you killed. Or worse.”

  “I don’t think most would do something to anger my brother. Seems everyone is afraid of him.”

  “For good reason.” He sighed. “Your brother’s protection only goes so far. They’ll use you, and he’ll be none the wiser. And if, Titania forbid, something happens to him…”

  “That’s not going to happen. And even if it did, which it’s not, I’ll leave.”

  “If they let you.”

  I hurried to keep up with Aidan’s long strides. His silence was unnerving, but neither of us broke it.

  We made it through the military style barracks and back into the desolate, decayed hallway that still confused the crap out of me.

  This time, I asked. “Why does it look like a horror movie in here?”

  Aidan stopped and looked back at me. “Illusion.”

  That made a sort of sense. “But why?”

  “It’s the second line of defense to protect the royal family. What intruder would think the high king would reside in a shit hole?”

  “What is the first line of defense?”

  “Each entrance is from the same designed room, which I see confused you as well.”

  “Are there other lines of defense?”

  “Yes, several.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

  He walked toward my room and opened the door. “Get some rest, M. I’ll get you in the morning.”

  “You sure about that? Or will you just abandon me again?”

  He sighed and pulled his fingers through his hair. “I told you. It was out of my control.”

  “That sounds like an excuse.”

  “I thought you had a handle on things. Why do you need me?” His voice had a teasing tone.

  He was either hiding his previous annoyance or had gotten over it quick. Knowing him, it was the latter. Grudges weren’t really a thing for him.

  I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I just like having you around.”

  He smiled and the familiar expression caused the ache I hadn’t noticed in my chest to lessen. I’d worried being here would have created a permanent rift between us. As pissed as I still was for his years of deception, and as wary as I was about his true intentions and feelings, he was still my best friend.

  Losing him would destroy me.

  I didn’t make it past the door into my room before a shrill scream filled the hallway. Aidan half pushed me into my room and slammed the door shut. I reached for the knob but there wasn’t one there.

  Fucking magic.

  I pictured where I thought the knob would be, but even then my hand only gripped air. How real was this illusion?

  The screaming continued higher pitched. Something I hadn’t thought possible.

  I banged on the wood of the door, yelling for someone to let me out. No one did. I rushed to the other side of my room where the door to Eoin’s room was. Muttering a silent prayer to no one in particular, I tried the door handle.

  With the biggest surprise of the evening, it clicked and opened. It seemed a bit odd considering Eoin’s insistence on his privacy. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and went in.

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that the screaming abruptly stopped, I would have lingered a bit longer in his room. They say where someone lives is all you need to know about a person. According to a brief glance around the room, Eoin was a man of contradiction but good taste.

  He also seemed to be an alcoholic.

  I raced through the schizophrenic room and to the door across from this one. I tried the knob, but it was locked. Damn it.

  There was another door, though, and I rushed to it. It opened and I went out the door to the hallway. There was a crowd of people, some in fancy dress and others in gray and gold uniforms clustered in front of one of the rooms. I pushed past and inside.

  The first thing I saw was Bryna, her cheeks wet as she sobbed.

  Then I noticed Eoin, shrouding whatever he knelt beside. My heart knew what my head denied.

  Aida
n reached for me to pull me back, but I brushed him off. Feeling like I swam through thick pudding, I walked around Eoin, my throat constricted and my fingers trembling.

  It’s not as bad as you think. He’s okay. Just a fall. Just a bad fall.

  Liam laid prone on the ground on his stomach, his face not visible. I thought I saw his back rise slightly as if he had pulled in a breath.

  But the blood—how could there be that much blood—pooled around his body told me my mind was lying.

  He would never breath again.

  Chapter Ten

  “You!” a harsh voice said. “This was you.”

  I looked up, the words barely registering in my head. My body was numb, my mind foggy. I wanted to tell whoever was knocking on the wall to shut up. Until I realized the noise was just the blood beating between my temples.

  My knees didn’t buckle. I didn’t fall to the ground.

  I didn’t scream. Or cry. I didn’t rush to his unmoving body, denial on my lips.

  I didn’t do anything but stare at Bryna’s outstretched, accusatory finger in silence.

  “Guards!” she yelled.

  No one moved. Why would they? It’s not like she had any authority here.

  Right?

  I tore my gaze from her hand to look around the room. Who did have the authority when the king was dead? A mad giggle bubbled out of my throat. I choked on it.

  Bryna continued her tirade that no one was listening to. All eyes were on me. Expressions ranged from sympathy to pity to suspicion.

  My eyes fell on Niamh and Innis. Innis had his hand on her back to steady her. Which didn’t seem necessary. Our gazes locked.

  She looked odd, different from what was expected of a woman who had just found her betrothed surrounded by blood—rivers of it! A sea of life’s essence drying on the wood floor!—on the ground.

  Her face was resigned as if she’d expected this, or perhaps feared it. An expression of well, there’s nothing to do now but pick up the jagged pieces and pray not to be sliced open was on her face.

  Too late for me, though. The cuts in me would never heal. But who was I to judge? I was the one giggling like a five year old.

  “What happened?” Innis asked, looking at Bryna.

  “I found him like this. I thought…maybe…I thought I wasn’t too late,” Bryna said, her voice soft. Mournful. She was either a hell of an actress or she actually cared.

  I didn’t know which was worse.

  “What were you doing in his chambers?” Aidan asked.

  She scoffed. “What do you think I was doing?”

  I shot a glance to Niamh. She sighed, her face continuing to look resigned. There wasn’t a lick of surprise on it.

  My brother. My hero. No different than any other selfish dick. Looking at Bryna, I questioned his tastes.

  You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. They can hear you.

  Another giggle rose in my throat. This time I couldn’t contain it. Someone’s hand pressed against my stomach from behind, holding me up. Their other rested against the small of my back.

  The touch was comforting, and I leaned into it even though I didn’t know who it belong to.

  Byrna was back to the finger pointing. If she shoved it any harder in my direction, it would probably sprain.

  “See how she mocks us? See the damage she has caused? Not here for more than a few hours and already blood on her hands.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Eoin said behind me.

  So, that was who was holding me up.

  “Am I? Is it not suspicious that Liam is murdered on the eve of his wedding, ensuring the crown goes to her and not his wife?”

  “Isn’t it suspicious you found him in the first place? The eve of his wedding to the woman he replaced you with?” I sneered. I hadn’t liked this witch before. Now I really despised her.

  It wasn’t even the accusation. That was more understandable. It was what she represented. The stain of my brother’s sin. The reminder he wasn’t as faultless as I thought.

  You always did have a problem with idealization.

  The shock wore off her face, and she lunged across the room at me. I didn’t move, still pressed against Eoin. At this point, I didn’t care what she did to me. It wouldn’t matter.

  There was a crackle in the air, and the hair on my arms stood up. Inches from my face, a bright light sizzled, strands arcing in multiple directions. I hoped people moved out of the way. It looked like it would hurt on contact.

  One of tendrils zapped Byrna in the chest, and she flew back.

  Yep. I was right. Looked like it hurt like a bitch.

  “Calm the fuck down, Bryna,” Eoin said. The energy pulsing from his body meant the magic storm thing had been him. I needed to remember not to piss him off.

  Bryna stood and brushed herself off. What she was brushing off exactly I wasn’t sure. Maybe her embarrassment? Shame?

  Filth?

  “At the very least, she needs to be locked up until we figure out what is going on,” Bryna said, her chin held up.

  “Enough,” Niamh said, speaking for the first time. “If anyone is getting thrown in the dungeon, it’s you for attacking the princess. Don’t forget your place here, meridreach.”

  Bryna turned her fury eyes toward Niamh. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Niamh smiled. It wasn’t the kind, gentle smile she’d given me. This was a smile that promised pain and humiliation. “You have no place here, meridreach. Leave.”

  They stared at each other, in a sort of stand still.

  I leaned further into Eoin. “What does meridreach mean?”

  “Whore.”

  “That’s fitting.” Although I couldn’t see it, I knew he was grinning.

  “We don’t have time for this posturing. The high king is dead. We need to speak of succession,” one of the unfamiliar Fae men said.

  At his words, everyone started talking at once. I couldn’t make much of it out but words like bloodline, heir, queen, and Unseelie stood out. At some point, Eoin had moved around me, getting into the fray.

  Frigid emptiness filled me as my eyes drifted back to my brother’s body. Not one of the people arguing had said anything about who had murdered their king.

  It was if no one cared about anything but themselves.

  Are you surprised?

  Strong hands wrapped around my waist. I looked up, half expecting it to be Eoin again. Instead my eyes met the blue of Aidan’s. His face was an impenetrable mask. Did he care or was he like the others?

  He pulled me in the opposite direction of the arguing Fae, farther into the room. I couldn’t tell you what the room looked like or what was in it. Anytime I thought about it, all I saw was red.

  We went through a door and then another door until finally we were in the hall again, several yards from the nearest noble. No one noticed us.

  He kept pulling me until we reached the portal room. He stopped, his hands on my shoulders, and looked down at me.

  Worry crossed his features. “M, talk to me.”

  “Talk? About what? Nothing to talk about.”

  He cupped my face with both hands. I closed my eyes. “M, look at me,” he commanded.

  “Or what? You’ll take my breath away again?”

  His fingers trembled against my skin. That got me to open my eyes. He swallowed hard, his eyes wet.

  What the hell was wrong with me? The tightness in my body choked me. I gasped. I couldn’t breathe.

  His hands tightened against my face. “M, breathe. Slow down and breathe. Please,” he pleaded.

  I crashed. Bile and rage and fear and grief washed over me in one shattering wave after another. Reason left my head. Feeling left my body. I drifted, my mind slipping and losing it’s grasp on reality to protect me from descent.

  We locked eyes. Whatever he saw in mine terrified him. One moment I was still on the ground and the next I was in his arms. He held me against his chest, smoothing my hair with his free hand.

&nbs
p; I let go of everything, trusting him to keep me safe, even from myself.

  He swore, but I didn’t know at what. “I have to put you down, M. I can’t summon the portal without my hands.”

  “Wait,” I mumbled. “We can’t leave him.”

  He ignored me as he gently put me on the ground on my butt. Apparently, he didn’t trust my legs to hold out.

  “Aidan, wait,” I repeated.

  He focused in front of himself and moved his hands in the same formation they had the last time he’d called a portal. “He’s gone, M. And I can’t protect you here.”

  I scrambled to my feet as the portal took form. “I need answers.”

  He looked over his shoulder at me, sadness etched on his face. “We have to go now or we won’t be able to.”

  I didn’t have a chance to ask why before another crack of electricity filled the air. Instead of flying toward Aidan or me, it attacked the portal. The magic devoured it until there was nothing.

  “My apologies, Princess, but I can’t let you leave.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The bindings on my wrists were not of any material I’d seen before. Not too surprising considering where I was, but the fact that they had appeared already fastened with a flick of Eoin’s wrist was enough to chill my blood.

  What was I doing here? How was I going to get out when not even Aidan’s magic could do so?

  The bindings looked like red clay baked in the sun but were as strong as obsidian. Runes were etched across the surface and glowed a pale pink. It was almost pretty.

  Almost.

  Aidan had matching bindings, only his gave off an ethereal blue color. He’d said it was to bind his magic along with his body.

  Apparently, no one was worried about my magic. Not that I blamed them.

  We sat with backs against the wall, invisible chains keeping us from moving. I didn’t know how many hours had passed—maybe it had only been minutes—before Eoin returned, a grim expression on his face.

  “I apologize again, Princess. There is more going on here than you realize, but I won’t let harm come to you.”

  “Bullshit,” Aidan spat out. “We both know the only place she’d be safe is Earth. You don’t have the power to protect her. Neither do I.”