“Oh, I put a silencing spell on the castle staff. They will not be able to speak of your wedding, or that the King is missing. I also think that the Fae King will do his best to pretend that our King is still there.”
“But I’m not, and they have to notice that.” Hmm. A silencing spell? That was convenient.
“People, even goblins, see what they expect to,” Drake said. “Although I agree that there is still a mystery in regards to how Cian was able to get our goblins to attack us. But Taranath is right—we didn’t leave exposure from those at the castle to chance.” He heaved a great sigh. “I hate to admit it, but Taranath is right about you, too. Even though it might kill us all. No one is expecting to see your magic.”
“What does that mean?” I asked impatiently. “How can people see magic? You’re not making sense!” I was also stalling. I didn’t want to do the portal.
Taranath gave me a look that said he knew what I was up to but I didn’t care. “Everyone who does magic has a…” he thought for a moment, “A signature, if you will. Rather like signing your name—everyone’s is different, you see?”
I nodded.
He continued, “And there are people throughout the Realms who monitor the magic they sense in their Realm as well as their neighbors. I can guarantee that his Majesty is monitored.”
“Why has no one else noticed Cian and his drop in visits?” I interrupted.
Taranath shrugged. “I do not have an answer, although I suspect he works to mask his magic. After all, we haven’t felt him in the castle other than when he showed up in the flames in the courtyard. So he is skilled at hiding himself when he wants to.”
“Which is why it’s a good thing to have you do this, although I fear for us all,” Drake said, and he gave me a smile that contained an apology.
I couldn’t help it and smiled back. He was a pain in the ass, but he was loyal, and I knew I could trust him. He wasn’t saying anything I didn’t think, although he was more of a jerk about it.
“All right,” I sighed. “I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I need help, though.” I looked at the two of them.
“As if we’d do anything else,” Drake snorted. “I want to live, after all.”
The time to be nice was apparently over.
“What do we do with the horses?” I asked. I knew I was dawdling. I could feel my heart beat faster.
“I shall attend to that,” Taranath bowed his head and stepped away. He pulled a mirror from somewhere, and began to speak into it.
“Stop stalling,” Drake said to me quietly. “You have to do this. And in all honesty, Iris, you can do this. You are more skilled than you realize. You need to visualize it, and you’ll manage the portal.”
“But I have no idea what this place looks like!” I could feel my heart rise into the top of my chest, and I felt like I wanted to take a lot of deep breaths.
He pulled the map out once more. “That makes it a little more challenging, but it’s not even close to impossible, before you try and protest again. Here, look at the place on the map.”
He held it out while I stared at it.
“Now close your eyes, and imagine the map in your mind. See it, and if you’re not sure, look at the map again.”
Taranath rejoined us, tucking his mirror away. He’d also taken a large pack from his horse. I had mine strapped across me, and Drake seemed to travel with all his belongings attached to his body. So I guessed that we were going to do this, right now. I didn’t see any other way to delay.
I noticed that Drake and Taranath were watching me carefully, and continued to do so as I looked at the map a few more times.
“Can you see it?” Drake asked.
I nodded.
“Then here, take this,” he put a stone into my hand. “Focus on the stone, and having the stone take you to the place on the map.
Okay, you can do this, I told myself. I took a couple more deep breaths, focusing on the picture of the map in my head. I thought, Take us there! I felt the stone in my hand warm, and I focused on the map again.
The stone got hotter. I held it more tightly, forcing everything from my head but the picture of the map.
A whoosh, like air had been sucked by me, and then I felt the ripples, although mine didn’t feel as smooth as Brennan’s. The daylight from where we’d stopped the horses disappeared, and the air got cooler.
Well, we’d definitely portaled somewhere. I opened my eyes, and we were in a cave. Or maybe the dungeons? I glanced to my side and saw that Drake and Taranath were next to me.
“Where are we?” I asked, taking a step forward.
And fell flat on my face.
Chapter Nine
Brennan
He kept his eyes closed as the door opened. The way it slammed, he knew it wasn’t his mysterious benefactor from before. Whoever this was made no effort to hide themselves.
“Might as well give it up,” Cian’s mocking tones said near his head. “I know you’re not sleeping.”
“I was hoping that if you thought I was, you’d leave,” Brennan said, opening his eyes to meet those of his brother’s.
A flash of something—anger, perhaps—crossed Cian’s face quickly. It left just as quickly as it had come. His brother still had the easily stirred temper he’d had as a child. It would be funny if it wasn’t sad. All this time, and Cian had not evolved. He’d been right, in his musing earlier.
Why?
“Where have you been all this time?” He asked, hoping to find out something—anything—that might help him. He was also curious. How had Cian escaped detection by everyone for over six hundred years? He’d been well hidden all this time. Who would have the nerve to lie to Fae King in this manner?
Cian laughed, and it was like hearing an old man cackle. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, I would,” Brennan said, taking on his tone that he used for those who came to him to complain and have justice meted out. “Father and Mother would have welcomed you home. And they truly believed you’d died in a fire.”
Cian looked at him for a moment, then said, “I set the fire. I wanted them to think me dead.”
Brennan shook his head before he could stop himself, mystified. “Why? They loved you greatly, Cian, as did I.”
Cian got close, leaning down so that Brennan could see the madness in his eyes. “No, you didn’t. You never did. You were merely waiting for the time to push me aside. And when it came, that is exactly what you did!” Spittle formed one corner of his mouth.
Brennan found this aspect of Cian alarming. Well, there were a number of alarming aspects, but this was one of the most. His brother truly believed that he’d been pushed aside. Brennan couldn’t decide whether Cian was more angry or determined to be a persecuted being. He vacillated between the two.
Might as well see which one his brother identified with more. “No, I was waiting for nothing. And Mother and Father were never the same after you left.”
“Well why would they be? They’d gotten rid of me, and were happy to focus on you, the precious heir to the Goblin Throne!”
Brennan couldn’t tell if Cian knew the importance of being the Goblin King, the responsibility he held in partnership with the Fae King for the entire Realm. He realized that he would never have been able to work with Cian as he worked with his father. The Realms would have fallen into disarray at best, if not civil war.
“No, I don’t think so. Father was not happy when he told me I’d been chosen.” Brennan remembered that well. It had hurt to think his father was disappointed, which is what Brennan thought at the time. He’d waited until Brennan was about to take the Goblin Throne before he’d told him the truth—Brennan hoped with all he had that his father had never told Cian. “Nor was I. I liked the Goblin King, and I liked Dhysara.” He watched carefully to see what Cian did when he mentioned his wife’s name.
Only the lowering of brows showed that Cian wasn’t pleased Brennan remembered or knew of her. “Dhysara is as sweet
as she is stupid. And even she is too good for you. You who stole her inheritance!”
“Dhysara was not slated to rule the Goblin Realm,” Brennan said calmly. “I met with the Goblin King. He knew that his line would not rule after him.”
“Because Father decided that his precious, useless son needed somewhere to land!” Cian spat. “He also knew that I would never tolerate you taking things not yours, so he got rid of me. He let you hurt me! You could have killed me, and Father did nothing! He didn’t send you away! He sent me! Not you!”
Fast as a lightning strike, Cian punched Brennan in the face. It was unexpected, and Brennan’s head jerked sideways from the impact. He could feel blood leaking down his lip. With his hands bound, he couldn’t even rub at his face. He turned back and looked at Cian coldly.
“How mature, Cian. To use fists to express anger.” He knew he was pushing Cian, but he didn’t care. Not at the moment.
“Oh, I shall express my anger, as you put it, magically as well. That is coming. Don’t worry on that account,” Cian said, a smile on his face. Hitting Brennan seemed to have released the anger within.
For the moment.
“You still have not answered my earlier question. Where have you been all this time? With Dhysara?”
It bothered Cian that Brennan knew of her. A thing to note. He’d have to use her name whenever possible. Because Cian angry made poor decisions. And poor decisions might offer him an opportunity for escape.
It also meant he’d probably visited more pain on himself, but if it meant he might have more of a chance, it was worth the pain.
“Or is she your latest hiding place?” He put a hint of scorn in the question, to see if Cian might catch it.
Cian’s face reddened, but he sounded composed when he answered. “Why all the questions, brother? Why do you care now?”
“I am merely curious who would have kept the son of the Fae King hidden all these years.”
Cian laughed. “You are so naïve, Brennan! As though using Father as some sort of magic fix-all has any effect on people living outside the Fae Court.”
“It doesn’t?” Brennan struggled with where the conversation was heading. Cian was mad. What had happened to him? Fae didn’t normally go mad like this.
Cian came around so that Brennan could see him fully. “You really want to know, little brother? I shall tell you, and then you will know how people really feel about Father and you.” He laughed, but turned away, crossing his arms.
He doesn’t believe what he’s saying to me, Brennan thought. But he kept quiet, wanting to hear what Cian would say.
“When you tried to kill me, I didn’t die. But I did fall into a sleep, and I didn’t wake from it until I’d been moved to the castle with Margot.”
Margot? Brennan racked his brain. Who was Margot? He thought back through childhood. She was—she was their nanny. Well, she was supposed to be nanny to him and Cian, but she’d always favored Cian. It made sense that Margot had been sent with him.
“When I woke, I knew that I wasn’t at our home. In my rooms, in my castle. So I pretended to be unknowing, to see what those around me would tell me. And do you know what Margot said?” He turned back to Brennan, his eyes slanting at he smiled.
“I have no idea,” Brennan answered.
“She told me that my parents were horrible, and had sent me away because they favored my brother. My younger brother. That they had given that brother all that was mine, but that she loved me, and she would not only take care of me, but make sure I got the things I deserved, the things that were stolen from me.”
He laughed, but it was not a happy laugh. “Margot might have been a bit biased, but she wasn’t wrong. They did favor you. Why they made such a fuss when you were declared the heir to the Goblin Throne—stealing Dhysara’s inheritance as well—I shall never know. But it doesn’t matter. Our parents made their choice, and now, finally, they will pay for it.”
“You’re wrong. They mourned you every day. They mourn your loss still,” Brennan said, thinking about the fact that he and Nerida weren’t speaking because of it. Nerida wasn’t speaking to any of her family because of her mourning.
Cian wasn’t listening. He was tapping his finger on his chin, thinking. “You know, it’s interesting, Brennan. You stole from me when you turned our parents against me. Then you stole from Dhysara. How fitting it is that we shall take back all that you stole. Once I have finished with you, I will be the ruler of the Goblin Realm, and the Fae King, and you, you will be nothing. As you deserve to be.”
Had this not been absurd, Brennan would have laughed out loud. The thought that this man—he couldn’t think of him as a brother any longer—felt he could manage both Realms, and felt that he was entitled to do so was funny. In a dark, twisted way, as Cian would ruin both, but funny nonetheless.
If he could ignore the horrifying idea of Cian running his realm, not to mention being around Iris. What would happen to Iris? He found that he had to put his worry for her into a separate space. Otherwise, it would take over all his thoughts, to his detriment. This was not the time to let his guard down, not even a little.
“That’s all very nice to ponder,” Brennan drawled, “But it hasn’t happened yet, has it? How many times is it you’ve attempted to rid yourself of me? Three? Four? You’re not making a good showing, Cian.”
Cian flicked his hand and Brennan found himself unable to move, and racked with pain. His jaw clenched shut. He could feel his teeth grinding together.
“Not very smart, are you little brother? You’re not in a position to negotiate, bargain, or do much of anything. Yet you continue to talk as though you are. You are nothing, Brennan. You’ve always been nothing. Once I’m done with you, all will see you for what you really are. Then I can turn my attention to making the Realms as they should be.”
The last thought Brennan had before he passed out was that at least he wasn’t being drained.
Iris
I started. I felt—I didn’t know what I felt, but it hurt. My whole being hurt. I wanted to curl up and scream out loud.
But why? I’d fallen, yes. But falling onto rough ground wasn’t enough to feel this kind of pain.
“Your Majesty, let me help you.” Taranath’s voice said above me.
I felt his hand reach for mine, and partially lift me as I got to my feet.
“Is this the castle?” I asked, hearing the breathlessness in my voice. Pain will do that to you. Another wave hit, and I leaned over, putting my hands on my legs.
“What’s wrong?” Drake asked.
I held up a hand, trying to breathe through the pain. It finally ebbed, and I stood up, feeling sweat on my face. “I must have really hit hard because wow, that hurt to get up.”
Taranath came into view, holding a light of some sort. I didn’t realize how dark this place was. “What do you mean it hurt to get up?”
“It felt like I hit a major nerve or something when I fell because I hurt all over.”
“Have you experienced this before?”
I shook my head, forgetting we were mostly in the dark. “No. This is new and weird, like lots of things in this world.”
“This is not pain from falling. It’s some sort of magical pain,” Taranath said with surety. “I cannot tell what is causing it, because there is no great surge of magic here, or really, wards of any kind. But that was not a result of your fall.”
“Nice job, by the way,” Drake quipped. “So nice to land in this pest hole, wherever it is.”
“Shut up,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to try and be helpful? How about finding out if we’re in the castle we’re aiming for?” I rubbed my head. The pain had passed, but I still had that feeling you have when you’ve had to make it through. It was relief mixed with memory, and the memory sucked.
“Had you not landed us in the cave of wherever, we might have an idea,” Drake shot back.
Some empathy this guy had. At that moment, Taranath intervened.
“I can’t tell what just happened, your Majesty, but if you can walk comfortably, let us move forward and see if we can determine where we are.”
He sounded fake-hopeful, and that made me feel even worse. First time driving, and I drop us in a hole somewhere.
Taranath held his light—a torch of some kind—high. I could see a little more and it looked like a cave. Weren’t castles built on caves? Isn’t that where dungeons came from? I hoped so.
We walked on, Drake in the rear and mumbling. He was speaking in Fae, and sounded grumpy as hell.
“That is not helpful, my lord,” said Taranath.
Yep. Grumpy as hell. Probably complaining, too.
“I have to let it out,” Drake said. “Isn’t that your mantra, ladyship? Be honest, get things out in the open? I am putting my disappointment and frustration out in the open.”
“How in the hell does Brennan stand you? You don’t have an off button ever, do you?” I whirled around, annoyed. Jeez, I was just learning all this shit. “I’m not a thousand years old with loads of experience like yourself! You think you could cut me a little slack? You know, because that’s what people do when others are learning? And aren’t we supposed to be friends? Is this how you treat your friends? No wonder you don’t have any!”
I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop anything further from coming out. I knew me. I would go from here to digging at him about Ailla, and that wasn’t nice, or fair. I just hated feeling like a failure, and not having someone try and help me move past it. Most of the people in my life didn’t rub it in.
“This is not a game, your Majesty,” Drake said, and I could hear real anger in his words. “If we do not get to where we need to be, your husband, my king, my brother—will die. It’s that simple. I don’t appreciate being tossed about to and fro when we need you to concentrate—”
“Drake,” Taranath said. He sounded angry.
“What?”
“You are being unkind, and extremely unhelpful. No one is perfect in the craft of magic. You know this. Iris is doing extremely well. You know this also.”
Silence greeted his words. Taranath didn’t yell at anyone, ever. This stern rebuke was the same as me pitching a fit. I didn’t feel sorry for Drake, though. Taking his shit out on me only made things worse.
Realms of the Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 3) Page 7
