Faerie Lords Boxset

by Isabella August

  The image of Lord Blackfrost in her mind slowly resolved in the pitch-black surface of the water in front of her. There was no longer any kindness in his eyes, feigned or otherwise. The air before him tore open with a howl of wind and snow. Elaine felt the cold begin to creep up her body…

  The image stuttered. Jenna hissed in surprise. Elaine felt her strain her magic, pushing harder. “Damn,” her apprentice hissed. “This is weird. It’s like someone tore your memories into confetti and threw them around everywhere. No wonder you’re only getting bits and pieces.” Jenna’s magic rippled through the water, with a strange twist of light. “I’m not going to be able to brute force this,” Jenna admitted. “I might be able to piece some stuff together if you give me somewhere to start, though. What’s your next clearest memory, Lainey?”

  A tall stone willow, its branches carved from ice. She huddled beneath it, but it gave no shelter against the chill.

  “I remember the Lifeless Garden,” she whispered. “It’s always been there, in my nightmares.”

  Jenna’s magic flared.

  The surface of the water rippled lightly. Elaine imagined her mind wavering with the ripples, sliding into a dreamlike state. She focused on the water, and allowed her mind to change the world that surrounded her. The night was deep. The air was cold. There were no living flowers — only mocking caricatures, intricately carved from ice and stone.

  She was alone.

  For just a moment, Elaine’s mind tried to rebel. Not here. Not back here. The thoughts choked her with alarm. But she forced herself to ignore those inevitable protests, steeling herself against the night.

  Somewhere out there, Liam walked alone through Blackfrost.

  Elaine knew that she had to force herself to face her memories, if she ever wanted to bring him back for good.

  The ground was covered in snow. Everything was white, drenched in a cold, moonlit glow. It might have been beautiful, if it wasn’t so bleak and utterly eternal.

  Elaine huddled at the base of a magnificent, towering willow of stone; its weeping branches of ice-cut leaves tinkled in the night breeze. Her shivers deepened. She had used every trick she knew, every ritual, every bit of magic inside her to fight her final fate. But it had been so long, and the loneliness had begun to weigh her down every bit as much as the expenditures of energy. Any moment, she knew, she would lose her concentration and begin the final slide into an icy slumber. Lord Blackfrost’s magic would take her, and she would become only another lifeless carving in his garden.

  What will it feel like? Elaine began to wonder. Will I simply die? Will I sleep and dream? Will some twisted part of me live on?

  It was difficult to think now, and useless to speculate. She would know the answer soon, in any case.

  The branches rang out gently. A shadow fell upon Elaine, and she glanced up, dazed. She was hallucinating, she thought. She must have been. No one had visited her since… since Lord Blackfrost himself had left her here, in this closed-off garden. There were no exits whereby someone could even enter; she had looked long enough for one herself, and found nothing.

  Still, the shadow surveyed her, and as it did she slowly began to make out its features. It was a pale young man — lithe but powerful, with long dark hair and eyes of keen, unearthly blue. He was dressed somewhat better for the weather here than she was; his rich black tunic and breeches didn’t look as though they ought to keep off the cold, but he also wore a heavy cloak, sewn together from the furs of various winter beasts.

  The man stared down at her, aghast. “My god,” he said softly. “You really are still alive.” Awe mingled with horror in his voice.

  Elaine blinked slowly. Her lashes had begun to freeze over. She’d finally lost the last of her strength. “What sort of dream are you?” she mumbled at him. “Do I really need a hallucination here just to state the obvious?”

  The young man didn’t answer. He knelt down in front of Elaine, his strange blue eyes alight with concern. He shrugged the heavy cloak off his shoulders and reached out to wrap it tightly around her body. His heat still radiated from the furs, soaking into her chilled skin.

  Elaine stared at him. Shock shivered through her weary limbs. He was real. The warmth of his cloak — the first heat she had felt in what seemed to have been years… that was real as well.

  He tugged the cloak more tightly around her. “Who… a-are you?” Elaine stuttered.

  “My name is Liam.” He said it in a whisper — as though he worried that someone might be listening. “I tried to find you before now, but he only told me where you were recently.”

  He? Elaine thought dimly. “You mean Lord—”

  Liam pressed a hand over her mouth quickly, his eyes now bright with alarm. “Don’t say his name,” he hissed. “He will hear you then.”

  Elaine closed her eyes, struggling to think again. She knew that, of course. If she had been in her right mind, she never would have made such a simple mistake. Once she’d closed her eyes, though, she found herself unable to open them again. Her eyelids were so heavy. Liam’s hand was so warm — she hadn’t known that anything in Blackfrost could be warm. It was probably a good thing that she didn’t have the energy to speak any further; she might have begged him to hold her, which would have been unbearably strange.

  Liam shifted in front of her. Elaine thought she heard him say something in an alarmed tone. He tugged the cloak briefly aside, and she whimpered at the chill that worked its way inside. But he slipped one warm arm behind her back and drew her close to his chest, and she nearly cried in relief. Elaine tried to bury her face in his shoulder, but he held her cold cheek with his other hand, turning her chin up toward him. “You need to open your eyes,” he said, in a soft but urgent voice. “Look at me.”

  Elaine didn’t think she had the energy left to comply… but something about his voice made her dig deeply inside herself one last time, dredging up reserves she’d thought long gone. She forced her eyes open. It was the most monumental effort she had ever made.

  Liam’s face was inches from hers. There was such a look of simple, mortal worry on his face. Faeries never looked at anyone that way. They just weren’t capable of it. “Tell me your name,” he said. “Your full name, I need to know it.”

  It was a very dangerous thing to give your name away. It was perhaps one of the most dangerous things that you could do. Elaine hesitated, and the arm behind her back tightened.

  “My name is Liam O’Cuilinn,” he told her. “And if you do not give me your name now, I assure you that you will never have the chance to use it against me.”

  Shock rippled through her, temporarily clearing her head. He had given his name so easily, so matter-of-factly — but there was an underlying fierceness to his tone that impressed upon her the seriousness of the situation.

  “El… Elaine…” she managed. “My name is Elaine Halstead.”

  Liam held her eyes with his. There was a penetrating quality to his gaze. “Elaine Halstead,” he said. “Will you accept a pact with me, until such time as you leave this realm?”

  She had given him her true name from her own lips; as he now spoke it back to her, the act reached into her soul and plucked a string there, making her shudder. It was so strange and unaccountably intimate that she nearly missed the rest of what he’d said. It took her a moment to replay it in her head and make sense of it.

  She’d thought he might be mortal — or at the very least, a warlock. But warlocks couldn’t offer pacts — they’d already sold their soul to the highest bidder. Only supernatural creatures — powerful ones, at that — could offer to form a pact, sharing the very core of their power with someone else.

  What are you? Elaine thought at him blearily.

  Liam shook her sharply. Elaine blinked — realized that she had been drifting once more. “Y-yes,” she rasped out. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hoped that she had not just made a terrible decision.

  Liam leaned in toward her, his breath warm on her cheek. For j
ust a moment, she thought he might kiss her — but he paused with his face only an inch from hers. He exhaled softly… and this time, it came with a chill power. The cold worked its way between her lips, sliding its way along her throat and down into the very core of her soul.

  She should have felt cold. It should have frozen her from the inside out. Instead, the power coiled deep within her, tangling with her normal magic. Elaine’s shivers ceased abruptly. Her body surged with renewed vigor — just enough to revive her mind and bring her back to full alertness.

  Elaine’s eyes widened. She pressed her hands against Liam’s chest, trying to push away from him, but he held onto her with an unnaturally strong grip. “Don’t,” he warned her. “Not yet. I’m not that powerful. Not… not as powerful as him, anyway. You should take any real warmth you can get.”

  Elaine relented weakly. Much as she hated to admit it, she still savored the feeling of real heat more than she worried about the compromising position. She let her cheek fall against his chest again. “Why do you care?” she asked. “You feel like this place. Don’t you work for him?”

  Liam hesitated. “...I live to defy him,” he admitted quietly. “Every day, in every way that I can. I’ve saved his other victims before. He eventually loses interest, stops paying attention. Once he asks me to look in on one of you, it’s generally because he’s moved on.” He shook his head slowly. “No one deserves this.”

  “My god,” Elaine muttered. “You almost sound like a normal, sane human being. I didn’t know those could survive here.”

  “They normally don’t,” Liam said grimly. “But he never seems to remember my mortal side. I think he keeps expecting I’ll naturally fall in line and obey him like everything else here does.”

  This inevitably gave rise to more questions in Elaine’s mind, now that she was alert enough for curiosity. She staunched her inquisitiveness to focus on the present, though. “Are… are you going to get me out of here?” she whispered, as quietly as she possibly could. Hope — impossible hope — rose up in her chest, choking up her throat. She had spent her time here just trying to make it from moment to moment, resisting as long as she possibly could. It had never entered her wildest dreams that she might actually find a way out.

  Liam hesitated. “...maybe eventually,” he told her. His eyes were pained; it was clear that he hated to dash her hopes so quickly. “I have to work out a way. He’s never gone to so much trouble to imprison someone before.”

  That hope plunged away, replaced by a dull, miserable disappointment. Elaine felt tears gather at her eyes, but she staunched them ruthlessly. It wasn’t a no. She now had an ally, someone who knew this place and who wanted to help her. It was infinitely more than she’d had before.

  “Liam.” Elaine tried his name in her mouth, tasting the word. He blinked — she felt him shiver against her, startled. Now that she knew his true name, using even his given name seemed to affect him. She hadn’t expected that. She flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she said hastily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “No way around it,” he muttered. A slight flush betrayed the effect it had on him, even so. “I’ll get used to it.”

  Elaine swallowed. She made a mental note to avoid saying his name as much as possible. “I was going to say… thank you. This must be dangerous for you.”

  Liam winced. “Please don’t say that,” he told her. “Thank you implies a debt. You should excise those words from your vocabulary as soon as possible. And stop apologizing, that’s almost worse.”

  Slowly, he pulled away from her. Elaine was much warmer now, but the loss of his heat still made her sigh softly in disappointment. He tugged the cloak closer about her. “Anyway… don’t be fooled. I might have more freedom to move around, but I’m as much a prisoner as anyone else here. He’ll never let me leave Blackfrost. The next best thing I can do is set you free in my place.”

  Elaine clutched the cloak around herself — but the biting wind failed to chill her this time. I’m not losing heat anymore, she realized.

  Liam seemed similarly impervious to the chill, though he had given her his best protection against the cold. He considered her carefully. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  Elaine heard the extra question there: Can I safely leave? A terrible panic overtook her, and she scrambled unsteadily to her feet. “Don’t!” she gasped. “Don’t… leave. Please. I can’t…” Her breaths came more quickly. The lightheadedness that assaulted her had nothing to do with the winter air. I can’t be alone again. Not so soon, please.

  Liam’s eyes flickered with alarm. He reached out to steady her by the arms. Just that touch — the physical reminder that someone else existed in this awful world with her — calmed her trepidation.

  Elaine closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? This wasn’t her — this person losing her composure, begging for help, clinging to the first person to show her even the slightest hint of kindness. “I’m sorry,” she rasped again. She didn’t like this person who apologized too much either, but she was so worried that she might drive him away, that he might never come back. “You’ve already done so much. You… probably need to go.”

  Liam tightened his fingers on her shoulders. “Blackfrost isn’t just cold,” he told her quietly. “It’s a thief of warmth and life. It gets under your skin.” He hesitated. “...I won’t let it have you,” he promised.

  He took her hand in his, very gently. “I’ll stay as long as I can, El—” He cut himself off clumsily just in time, before the rest of her true name could affect her. “...why don’t I just call you El,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  Elaine choked out a laugh. “Okay,” she said. “I’ve never had a nickname before. Let’s try it.”

  Liam settled himself down next to her at the foot of the great stone willow, his arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders. He talked to her — a long, winding conversation through the timeless night. The details began to blur…

  Jenna had fallen forward, disturbing the bowl of water. Her apprentice was clutching at her head — Elaine saw tears of agony on her face. She sucked in her breath and rushed to steady the younger woman, though she wasn’t feeling terribly steady herself.

  “You promised to let go when it got bad!” Elaine told her angrily. “You said scout’s honor!”

  Jenna grinned weakly up at her through the tears. “Yeah, uh. I should have mentioned. I don’t have any scout’s honor. I never joined the scouts.” She cringed and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, moaning. “Did you get what you needed, Lainey?”

  “I… I think I did.” Elaine held onto her apprentice tightly, closing her eyes. She breathed through her fear and confusion, trying to grasp at the present. She was angry at Jenna, she realized, but she was also angry at Liam. The two were blurring together.

  She had his true name. And he… he had hers. He’d had it all along.

  He never used it, Elaine reminded herself forcibly, shoving down her panic.

  Liam could have used that name at any time. He could have used the secret knowledge of her soul to walk right past her wards. He could have spoken her name, tugged at her heartstrings, and softened her fear and irritation with him any number of times. But he hadn’t done that. She had been forced to give him her name for her own survival, and he had been terribly careful not to use it against her.

  He’d been using that silly little nickname to protect her.

  “But he’s not a warlock,” she mumbled, dazed. “He’s never been a warlock. I just assumed, and he never corrected me, because…” Elaine opened her eyes, struck by understanding. “Oh, my god. Liam is Blackfrost’s son.”

  Cold water curled against the skin of her leg. Elaine startled, glancing down at it uncomprehendingly. It wasn’t from the overturned scrying bowl — it had come from the pond, where the water was no longer frozen.

  A pool of dark, brackish water had broken through the ice, bleeding out over the frozen pond. Walking atop it was a pale, ghast
ly man with solid black eyes and terrifying, sharpened teeth. Limp, rotting seaweed strangled at his throat, and curled its way atop his head like a macabre crown.

  A terrible, overwhelming power pressed down upon them.

  “Where,” he asked, in a quiet, raspy voice, “is Pallid Valentine?”

  Chapter 9

  Elaine staggered to her feet. The cold water sucked at her ankles, chilling her to the bone.

  The power that beat down upon her was nearly unbearable. In the shadow of the man before her yawned endless abyssal depths, spiralling away into Arcadia’s deepest, darkest ocean. The sheer scope of it nearly overwhelmed her, before she was able to force closed her Witchsight.

  She didn’t need introductions to know that she was looking at the Drowned Lord.

  Next to her, still collapsed on the blanket, Jenna struggled to her hands and knees. A spike of fresh fear went through Elaine; her apprentice was utterly tapped, and especially vulnerable. Elaine worded her response very carefully, aware that her politeness — or lack thereof — might have consequences for more than just herself.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know where Pallid Valentine is,” she managed. “I haven’t seen her for days now. The last time I saw her, I thought she had run back to the Deeps.”

  The Drowned Lord fixed her with his empty stare. “I don’t believe you, mortal,” he hissed in his broken voice. “She was last seen with you. And you are not bound to tell me the truth.”

  Elaine swallowed. “I can’t help you any further,” she said. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  Jenna forced herself unsteadily to her feet. “You need to leave,” Elaine murmured to her, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can buy you a bit of time, but you’ll need to head straight for the nearest wards you can find.”