Spirit of the Fae

by Linsey Hall

  She gestured all around. “And this place is quite nice. You might as well stay here, where you are assured some kind of life. It’s what we all chose.”

  I looked around, trying to see this palace the way she saw it. All I saw was a prison. True, it was beautiful, in the way that all Fae palaces were. But there were guards at every hallway intersection, and the king and queen seemed to keep a very tight rein on the place.

  “We have something worth fighting for back on earth.” Understatement of the century.

  She smiled, and it was almost sad. “Don’t we all. But I suggest you make your peace with being here, as you would not survive the upcoming challenges.”

  “We won’t be changing our mind,” Tarron said.

  She turned a corner and led us up a wide, winding staircase. “You don’t mind being separated when only one of you wins?”

  That had been the condition of the challenges, but I was going to find a way around that. “We aren’t concerned about that.”

  It was a lie, but better than saying I planned to break the rules.

  She shot me a suspicious glance over her shoulder. “Only one may leave at a time. This place has never allowed two. The magic required to put you back on earth is too great.”

  “You know a lot about this place,” Tarron said.

  “Of course I do. I’ve been here for three hundred years. And we all know a lot about this place—and the challenges. Everyone wants to try to get back to earth when they first arrive here. Then they hear about the challenges, and they change their minds. Quickly, too, I assure you.”

  This Fae seemed like she knew her stuff—a good ally to have.

  I stuck out my hand. “I am Mordaca.”

  She considered it briefly, then shook it, all without stopping her purposeful stride down the hall. “I am Erala.”

  Tarron held out his hand. “Tarron.”

  They shook, then she led us up a wide spiral staircase. She stopped in front of a huge door that sat at the top of the stairs several stories up. “You will be spending the night in the west tower.”

  Carefully, she withdrew a key from a silver pouch at her side and inserted it into the massive golden lock. It snicked open, and she pushed at the heavy door, grunting slightly.

  “These are our chambers?” I raised a brow.

  “Looks more like a cell,” Tarron said.

  “It’s both.” Erala smiled. “It is far from a prison, but you cannot be allowed to wander unsupervised after hours. You don’t know this place, and you’re still angry about being here. You are a risk.”

  Well, she was right about that.

  I followed her into the tower room, shivering at the prickle of the protection charm that sparked against my skin.

  “Damn, that’s strong,” I muttered.

  “Nearly unbreakable,” Tarron murmured.

  “Nearly.” I smiled. Nothing could keep me in.

  Then the charm sparked more strongly, burning harshly against my skin. I yelped.

  Holy fates, maybe this could keep me in. I glanced at Tarron, whose jaw was clenched tightly.

  He gave a slight grimace, his eyes dark. “I may have to retract that nearly.”

  This place had some serious prison magic going on.

  “If the door is not unlocked by one of the approved Fae, the charm will burn you alive,” Erala said.

  I gave her a weak smile, my mind spinning with ways to get around that.

  The chamber that we’d entered was unexpectedly gorgeous. There were no windows, which made my skin crawl with the slightest bit of claustrophobia, but the furnishings were rich and opulent, with velvet coverings in deep jewel tones. A deep copper bathtub sat at one end, right in front of a crackling fire, with a table full of food on the other side.

  “This is quite the gilded cage,” I said.

  “For royalty.” Erala smiled. “As I said, don’t try to leave. You won’t survive the attempt.”

  Great. “Sure thing.”

  She turned and left, stopping at the door to look back over her shoulder. “Please, reconsider facing the challenges. No one has ever survived—not in thousands of years.” Her gaze flicked to the wounds on our bodies. “And you’ve already been wounded by Ankou’s minions. You’re weakened.”

  “Ankou?” Tarron asked.

  She nodded. “The Celtic embodiment of death. He lurks in the white forest beyond our city, catching souls for his own. Those unlucky souls who are caught by him before they reach this kingdom are taken to his realm. Some believe their souls disappear forever once they arrive there.”

  I frowned. “So the world beyond the crystal dome is deadly?”

  “All of it. It’s one of the reasons that no one attempts the challenges. They must re-enter the white forest.”

  I shared a glance with Tarron. “Looks like we’re going back to the white forest.”

  He nodded.

  Erala sighed and shook her head, then left.

  The door closed behind her, the lock snicking as she turned the key.

  An oppressive feeling closed in on me, and I looked at Tarron. “This place is a head trip.”

  He strolled around the room. “Give me a dungeon any day. At least then you know what to expect.”

  I nodded and walked toward the food, my stomach grumbling. “Is any of this safe?”

  He joined me to inspect the fruit, his ghostly shoulder nearly touching mine. Tension tightened the air between us. We couldn’t touch, but it didn’t matter. The memory of my feelings when I’d thought I’d lose him forever were still strong. Not to mention his aggression when protecting me.

  There was a brief pause before he cleared his throat. “Do not eat the fruit. The rest should be fine.”

  I nodded, trying to drive away the memories. I ate quickly, going for the cheese and bread. It was strange that I was able to eat and interact with the world here while being half transparent, but I couldn’t touch Tarron.

  It was some kind of torture.

  Maybe that was the whole point of it.

  We ate quickly and in silence, though we didn’t sit. The tension was too much.

  This was the first time I’d been alone with him—and not running from Ankou’s deadly minions—since that horrible moment when we’d died.

  I just wanted to hug him.

  And I couldn’t.

  My gaze flicked to his to find him watching me. “This is a shit show.”

  He nodded. “I’d rather face it with you than anyone else.”

  “Likewise.” Emotion surged within me, but I shoved it down. I didn’t want to bring it up until he did.

  “Thank you for saving my life.” His voice went low. “It cost you your own, but you did it anyway.”

  “I was already going to die.”

  “You didn’t know that at the time.”

  “I think you’re giving me more credit than I deserve.” In fact, I knew he was. I hadn’t consciously sacrificed my life for him. I’d just lost my mind and done whatever I could to save him. The result was…this.

  But I couldn't think about that right now. Feelings were the last thing I wanted to deal with. Having to kill him had made it very clear how I felt about him, and I did not like the vulnerability that came with it.

  I’d been a freaking mess when I’d realized he would die—sobbing and unable to do what needed to be done.

  That wasn’t me.

  “I’m going to take a bath.” I strode to the water and shucked my clothes, not bothering with modesty. He’d seen it all before and liked it. Anyway, the physical was easier than the emotional.

  I glanced over my shoulder to find him watching me, heat in his gaze.

  I shivered, then raised a brow. “Like what you see?”

  He grinned wolfishly. “More than anything I’ve ever laid eyes on before.”

  “Well, that’s all you’ll be laying on me.” I raised a hand, indicating the fact that neither of us could touch.

  “Torture,” he said, and fr
om the low rumble of his voice, I knew he meant it.

  Heat flushed through me as I turned back to the tub, which was already full. I dipped my fingertips in to find it still warm—some kind of Fae magic, I had to assume. With a groan, I sank into the water and leaned back, looking at the ceiling above. It was ornately carved, gold and ebony, with images of skulls scattered among the flowers.

  Unable to help myself, I flicked a glance at Tarron. He was no longer watching me, but his shoulders seemed tense with awareness. Of me.

  I couldn’t help but feel the same. I couldn’t touch him, but it was like I could sense him on a deeper level.

  It took a long time for the heat of the water to reach me and for relaxation to steal over my muscles. Once it happened, though, it wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep, my head lolling against the rim of the tub.

  The dream came almost immediately. My mother, lying on the platform as the healers worked on her. It was as if I were floating above her, looking down at her. Oddly, with her eyes closed and her mouth relaxed, she looked totally serene.

  For the briefest moment, my heart ached.

  I’d always wanted a mother.

  A good one.

  Our childhoods with Aunt had made me long for one even more.

  And I did have a mother.

  Only, she was an evil bitch.

  Her eyes flared open, brilliant and bright. They zeroed in on me, and I jerked backward in the dream.

  “I am coming for you,” she hissed. Her magic rolled over me, cold and fierce and evil. “The true queen you are not.”

  Terror like I’d never known streaked through me. Too much terror. I shrieked, jerking awake in the bath.

  The water splashed, and I nearly went under. Sputtering, I came to the surface, my heart pounding fiercely.

  “Mari!” Tarron was at my side in an instant, reaching for me.

  His hands passed right through my sides. My gaze glued to his face as I sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

  “What was it?”

  “I saw her. In a dream.” I tried to calm my shuddering breaths, my mind replaying what had just happened. “No. Not a dream. I could feel her. I could.”

  “A vision?”

  I nodded. “I think so. She came to me. She’s still wounded, but she managed to visit me in my mind.” I swallowed hard. “She’s wants to kill me.”

  His voice was gentle as he said, “That’s not a very big surprise.”

  “No. I suppose not. Up until now, I thought her plan was to capture me and use my Dragon Blood power for her own. But I think maybe it has changed.”

  “She might not have realized you are the true queen. Now that she does…”

  “She plans to kill me.” I shivered. “My own mother.”

  “She’s not a true mother.”

  “She’s still mine.”

  Pain flashed across his face. “I wish I could change that for you.”

  From the tone of his voice, he truly meant it. “I wish you could, too.”

  “On the upside—”

  “There’s an upside?” I shot him an incredulous look.

  “Always.”

  “I didn’t take you for a motivational speaker.”

  He chuckled. “That, I am not. But I’m familiar with the crucible of pain. You always come out stronger on the other end. This is your crucible.”

  I blinked. He was right. Shit like this did make a person stronger. Crucible of pain was a more eloquent way of saying it than I’d have managed, but it worked. “What was your crucible?”

  “My brother’s death.”

  I nodded. “I should have realized.”

  “You’re preoccupied with your own crucible right now.”

  “That’s the truth.” My mind flicked back to images of my mother. She’d become the monster who haunted my dreams.

  Too bad for her, I hunted monsters.

  Still, I shuddered. I hated this. I liked life simple, and learning that your mother was an evil murderer who intended to make you her next victim was far from simple.

  Tarron looked agonized. “I wish I could touch you. Comfort you.”

  My gaze flicked to his, warmth surging through me and driving out the cold of my mother. They were the kindest words he’d ever said to me. “You don’t sound like you’re used to saying things like that.”

  “I’m not.” Something unidentifiable flicked in his eyes. “But with you, things are different.”

  “Well, we can’t touch. That’s certainly different.”

  “Beyond that.”

  “The Fated Mate bond.”

  “No. It’s more than that.”

  I nodded, believing that now. The Fated Mate bond just suggested we were perfect for each other. We had to find our way toward love, and I was pretty sure I was there.

  I bit my lip, not wanting to say it first.

  Did he even feel it? If he did, was now even the time to say it? Or was it just too much on top of everything else?

  My gaze roved over his strong form where he was perched on the side of the tub. Even slightly transparent, he was hot as hell.

  Being unable to touch him made me realize how much I wanted to.

  Something flashed in his eyes—a depth of emotion I hadn’t seen before. Tension tightened the air between us.

  “Come on.” He stood. “Let’s try to get some sleep before tomorrow. I think we’re going to need it.”

  Sadness and relief fought within me. If I were honest with myself, I wanted him to say it.

  But I was scared, too.

  I nodded and climbed out of the tub. He handed me a towel without looking—trying to be polite, no doubt—and since we couldn't touch anyway, it was for the best.

  My mind spun as I climbed into bed, and he followed me after his own bath. When he joined me, I pressed myself up against his side, unable to feel him but liking the idea that we were right next to each other all the same. Silence fell heavy in the room. Thoughts of feelings were replaced by heated ones. The sensual images that raced through my mind made it insanely difficult to fall asleep, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

  Eventually, darkness took me.

  We woke the next morning to find fresh clothes laid out on the bench at the foot of the bed.

  Tarron frowned at them, his expression worried. “I didn’t hear anyone enter.”

  Unease crawled over my skin. “Neither did I.”

  “I always hear someone enter. Even asleep.”

  “Same.” Especially in a place like this, where I was constantly on alert for threats.

  I fingered the clothes. It was the little things like this that could indicate power—power that I didn’t have here.

  I glanced at Tarron. “There’s something fishy going on here. More threat than we can see. Did you hear the king and queen say they could use us for something?”

  He nodded. “But not what.”

  “Hmmm. We’ll have to figure it out.” I sucked in a deep breath and picked up the clothes. I needed clean ones anyway, and they looked just like my old fight wear. “Let’s get a move on so we can get the hell out of here.”

  We dressed quickly and ate some of the food that was still laid out. As soon as we finished, there was a knock at the door.

  “So now they announce themselves,” I grumbled.

  Elara pushed open the door and appeared at the entrance to the room, wearing a sparkling blue jumpsuit. She smiled. “The king and queen will see you now.”

  “Thanks.” Nerves prickled at my spine at the thought of the task they’d given us.

  As she led us down through the castle, I absorbed even more details than I had before.

  The massive, sparkling windows that lined the corridor gleamed with a protection charm.

  Elara saw me looking. “You can’t break them.”

  “The castle is as much of a trap as the dome, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “The king and queen like security.”

&nb
sp; “From their own people?”

  Elara shrugged. “From everyone. And even if you did get out of the castle and out of the dome, you’d be in the white forest.” Her gaze flicked down to my arm. “And you’ve seen what lurks out there.”

  I shared a glance with Tarron. The dark look in his eyes reflected what I was feeling—this place was fucked up. And escape would be nearly impossible.

  The king and queen were waiting for us on their thrones this time, each looking regal as hell. The queen’s silver hair was piled up on her head, a golden crown surrounding the curling mass. Her dress gleamed liquid gold today, a perfect match for her headwear. The king wore black again, stark. Harsh.

  We stopped in front of them, and Elara curtsied.

  The queen raised a brow at me.

  Was I supposed to curtsy?

  Hell no. I was technically a queen, too, wasn’t I? And Tarron was a king. I would play by this woman’s rules—this world’s rules—but I wouldn’t give up power I didn’t have to. It would mean treading carefully since I didn’t have my magic.

  She sighed, just slightly, then shot me a look of respect.

  Perfect.

  “You are sure you want to do this?” the king asked. “The risk of failure is the forfeit of your eternal soul.”

  I thought of Elara’s words about no one surviving. “Of course.”

  He inclined his head. “Fine, then. I could use a bit of entertainment.”

  I kept my expression placid, though I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. As I watched his face, something flickered beneath the surface. He shared a look with the queen, and something flashed between them.

  I was excellent at reading whether or not someone was telling the truth, and there was something fishy going on here.

  Discomfort prickled my skin.

  Definitely an ulterior motive.

  “There will be a number of tasks,” the queen said. “This isn’t so much for our entertainment—though as the king has said, we will enjoy it—as it is to complete the requirements for leaving this realm.”

  The king picked up seamlessly. “Those burns on your arm and shoulder were given to you by the minions of Ankou, the embodiment of death who haunts the white woods. They will eat away at you until your soul becomes his—unless you get rid of them.”