All this time, I’d figured we’d get Brennan, and get back and that would be it. Even with my mishaps in portal travel, we’d really had very few problems. Other than knowing whether Brennan was alive.
But now, faced with the threat of what could happen, the idea that not all of us might make it home hit me very hard.
Oh God, oh God, let it be all right. Please please please. Let him be safe. Please let us all get away from here safely.
We continued on. After seeing the daily routines in the Goblin Castle, these corridors seemed deserted, eerily so. There was no life here, no décor, no staff, no anything. It was a shell. Not like my castle—and my eyes misted at the thought.
“How do you know where we’re going?” I whispered to Drake’s back.
“We need to find out where everyone is. They’re not going to fool with having staff all throughout the castle. Not if they’re trying to hide him.”
Made sense. At this point, I was happy to stay in back, and let someone else do the leading.
Did that make me a coward? After all, it was my husband we were seeking.
A bang of some kind around the corner from where we were stopped all of us, like a game of statues.
Chapter Fourteen
Brennan
Footsteps sounded in the corridor beyond the door. They were angry, hard, striking on the stone floor like an axe.
“Someone’s coming back!” Brennan hissed at Aine. “Hide!”
Her head ducked out of his sight line just as the door slammed open, making everything in the room shudder. Brennan pretended to be sleeping, and slowly opened his eyes. He hoped with all the hope he had that Aine had managed to hide herself.
Ailla had returned.
“So, Brennan, you’ve been keeping secrets,” she said, walking towards him with her arms crossed.
Brennan got a look at her face. She was furious. He could almost see flames of anger shooting off her. Where was Cian? It wasn’t like him to allow Ailla to have this much unfettered access to himself. Cian liked to be the one inflicting any pain or suffering that was being given out.
“I have no idea what you refer to. I am sure, however, that you’ll tell me,” he drawled in his most lazy manner. Better to have her angry and not completely focused.
Even though he’d felt what he thought was Iris briefly, he couldn’t wait for her and Drake to arrive. He knew better than anyone that what Cian was doing was harming him. Aine’s help kept the damage at a minimum, at least physically. But Cian was draining him of…he couldn’t tell what it was, exactly.
In addition to being frustrated at the fact that Cian was accomplishing something, he was angry that with all his magic, with Taranath, and all that came with being the Goblin King, he didn’t know what Cian was doing. Not precisely. Not even halfway to precise, if he was being honest.
So Ailla being in this room twice in one day, without Cian overseeing, put all his nerves on edge. He didn’t want to admit it, but his crazed brother was proving more effective than he’d originally thought.
There was something to the idea that madness inspired and pushed.
“I hear that congratulations are in order,” Ailla came close to him with a smile on her face.
That was worse than when she was angry.
She ran her fingers along his captive arm, drumming her fingers a little as though he wasn’t tied up against his will. As if this was a flirtation, a trifle of an interaction.
“I might need to put on a face of mourning that you’ve so completely gotten over me. So quickly, too, Brennan. One might call that…faithless.”
Her words angered him as nothing else she’d said before did.
“Really, Ailla? I would think that you would find no room to lecture me about faithlessness,” he shot back.
Whatever she’d been expecting, that wasn’t it.
“What do you mean?” The question seemed to come out involuntarily.
“Pretending to love Drake. As though he wouldn’t tell me,” he let his eyes roll past her head, and hoped that his expression looked scornful.
Something was afoot here, and he felt that if he could get Ailla off balance, he and Aine would have a chance to escape. In spite of her calm demeanor, Ailla was upset. He could feel it coming from her. But she was skilled at masking her emotion and thoughts—so he needed to get her to the point where she lost that control.
“He didn’t tell you!” She burst into laughter, and Brennan could hear the tinge of anger and insanity in it. “Poor stupid human oaf, he nearly twisted himself into knots over the fact that he was being so nice, too nice, to the betrothed of his beloved brother!” She laughed again.
“Well, I would presume that it felt stupid to someone who knows nothing of loyalty.”
Her face twisted. Excellent. He’d hit some sort of nerve with her.
“You think I owed you loyalty? That I owed you anything? You didn’t care about me! And I didn’t wish for your affection! Why would I want that? I have the love of a powerful man—the real king, the king of all the Realms!” Her eyes looked wildly around, daring him to argue.
“Do you?” He wondered if she knew about Dhysara.
“Do I what?”
“Have the love of Cian? He doesn’t seem interested in anyone other than himself. Everyone I’ve seen around him is only there for…” he stopped, and smiled. “Well, since you are with him far more than I, I’m sure you know.” He let his head relax, and loll to the side, closing his eyes.
The slap stunned him. He found his head whipped to the other side, and looked into the eyes of a truly infuriated Ailla.
“What do you know of love? Of loyalty? My father hid and supported Cian for years, making sure that he wasn’t killed or sent away to die again. He’s a great man, and he loves me. I never loved you, and I certainly never loved Drake! As if I would lower myself to love a human!”
She slapped him again, and his head rocked with the force of it. He didn’t realize how strong she was. The sting woke his senses. His skin prickled where she’d struck him. All the hurts on his body screamed out at once, making a bolt of pain slice through him from his head down to his feet.
“But that wasn’t what I wished to speak with you about,” Ailla turned and went to the bench along the wall, her hair floating behind her, and the sun lighting her from behind. “You wouldn’t understand that, keeping to the purity of fae lines, of not allowing humans to dilute our blood and heritage.”
Brennan remembered that Ailla had always been jealous of Iris.
“Why does that bother you so, if you have the man you desire?”
She didn’t answer, still focused on what she was doing at the bench.
“Is it because you know that the human has something that you do not? In my case, the thing that made it impossible for me not to love her,” he finished.
He knew this was a risk. He knew she was putting together something that would be painful and horrible if he couldn’t get away. But he had to push her as much as he could.
She whirled around, clutching something in her hand and approached the table where he lay. “What, exactly, does your human have, Brennan? What is her irresistible quality? Please do share. That way, Cian and I know what to look for as we rip it from her,” She grinned, and it was one of the most evil things he’d ever seen.
He realized she was doing the same thing to him that he attempted to do to her. But he knew that she would not lay hands on Iris. There was no way she could get to Iris. Not ever. He forced himself to breathe, to not become alarmed. It would lead him right into her trap.
“I will tell you, but you should be afraid. If she tempted me, what would she do to Cian? He has greater experience than I at keeping the interest of—” he stopped, deliberately. He wanted to see what she would do.
His words found their mark. “What are you talking about?” She screamed, gripping whatever she held in both hands now. “I am his only love, there is no one else!”
Brennan raise
d a brow. Ailla was not a fool. She must know that something with Cian was not right. She must have caught him in a lie at some point. A man couldn’t maintain two lives for as long as Cian had without slips happening somewhere.
He took a breath, and summoned his strength. He was fairly certain that she would try to kill him. He needed to ward himself as best he could before he spoke.
She took several steps towards him and he braced himself for being hit once more.
“Really, Ailla? I’ve met a woman who is the daughter of the former Goblin King who has a differing opinion from you regarding Cian,” he made himself smile as he spoke. “Perhaps you’ve met?”
A shift crossed Ailla’s face as she held out the thing she’d been holding tightly. A small flask.
“This is nothing less than what you deserve,” she breathed, coming closer.
Iris
No one spoke. I didn’t even want to breathe. There was another bang, and then a clatter, as if someone dropped a bag of…who knew what? Something noisy.
A voice rang out. This must be Fae again, or some other language. Even without knowing what was said, I could hear the angry tone of the speaker. And frustration.
I would bet we’d found the staff of this joint. Having met Ailla, I’d bet they were not happy campers. Waiting on that bitch—she was the type who wanted hand-and-foot service.
Maybe they’d let us walk on by, handing us a sword as we went?
The thought made me want to giggle. But I didn’t dare to make a sound.
Drake hugged the wall, and I felt Taranath come closer behind me. I leaned against the wall, noting that the warm hue of the stones was not the truth. They were cold to the touch.
“Be ready,” Drake whispered. “Taranath, behind me,” he added.
Taranath moved around me, stones in each hand. I caught his expression as he did do—never had I seen such fierceness on his face. He almost always looked placid and calm.
While I was still thinking about it, Drake and mage move together, almost as one. When did they get the time to practice like this? It looked more like a dance than a prelude to an attack.
I held my own stones tightly in my hand, hands away from me slightly so that they were ready should I need them. In spite of the underlying anxiety for Brennan, I didn’t want to do anything that would mess up whatever Drake and mage were planning to do.
The two of them came around the corner and I followed. I tried keeping a visual on what was going on in front of us by positioning myself in between the two of their them and their shoulders. I could see three people beyond us, all of whom were wearing some kind of armor and had the look of soldiers. They were arguing, although not as loudly as the first voice we heard.
It happened in slow motion, almost like something you’d see in the movies. First one soldier saw us and then the other two turned around. It was apparent that they did not expect to see anyone here because they all stood frozen as if unsure what to do.
Abruptly, like glass shattering. Three soldiers came at us at least two of them yelling. They spoke a language other than English, so as usual I had no idea what they said. Drake and mage rushed towards them sort out hands in front of them. Without warning, a bright gold light shot from mage. Two of the three soldiers blasted back into the wall, their armor making a rattling sound against the stones.
The third soldier had drawn his sword, and faced off against Drake. Drake had a vicious grin on his face crouched low and circling, and he was muttering and what I thought was Fae. The soldier spat something back at him, and it literally sounded like he was spitting. Whatever he said made sense to Drake, because I saw Drake’s expression hardened. Of movement from the corner of my eye made me turn my head. I saw mage standing over the two soldiers who’d been blasted into the wall. Figuring that Drake had the third soldier under control, I sidled over to where mage stood.
“Will they live?” I asked.
“Yes, they will live. I don’t generally intend to kill.” Mage looked at me his expression still serious and fierce. “But I hit them hard enough so that they won’t wake up and bother us before we have to leave.”
I nodded” that makes sense, but—“ we both turned to look as Drake and the soldier yelled at one another and the swords clashed with the sound of metallic thunder. They were close together swords locked up the sound of metal grinding like nails on a chalkboard.
Instinctively, I moved closer to mage, the act of watching this life-and-death struggle making me scared. Drake was clearly the better warrior, but the soldier had at least 6 inches on him and was burly and muscled.
Drake push the soldier, who took two steps backwards, stumbling. Drake didn’t even hesitate. He stepped forward sword at waist level, and ran the soldier through with his sword.
The air still. I could see the dust motes floating in the sunlight from the small windows in the stone above our heads. Clearly, the soldier was a surprise as the rest of us — well at least me. He looked at Drake, his hands creeping to where the sword went through his belly. As he did so, his own sword clattered to the floor, the sound ringing throughout the court order.
Drake jerked his sword back towards him and it slid from the soldier noiselessly. The soldier looked down at his wound then back up at Drake and over at mage and I. Then, gracefully for such a large man, he crumpled to the floor.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
Drake leaned down wiping his sword on the pant leg of the fallen soldier. “I’m surprised we’ve made it this far without getting into a fight,“ he said grimly. “Let’s hope that was their main source of protection.”
He walks past soldier he killed and the two that mage had thrown continued down the core door as though this were no big deal.
Mage followed him and still looking at the scene of bodies, I trailed behind him. This entire journey, none of this seemed this real. But looking at the dead man the two others, it hit home.
We could die here. Brennan could die here. We might not actually make it out alive.
I jumped as a hand landed on my shoulder.
“Iris, stop thinking like that.” Mage leaned into me, making sure I met his eyes. “You are free to think like that once we’re done, but such thoughts will not help us until after we have freed the King.”
“You’re right,” I said softly still looking at the fallen men. “I know you’re right. But…”
His arm went around me, and he pulled me away from the scene. “I know my lady,” he said.
I turned my head and left the scene of destruction behind us. I hoped it would be the last. Unless, of course, we were able to wipe the floor with brother and crazy lady. Somehow, the thought of leaving them senseless or dead on the floor didn’t seem as bothersome.
Since it was because of them that we were here. They were the ones who had stolen my husband, and they were the ones who were trying their best to ruin everything I cared about. Maybe I wasn’t as fragile as I thought. But the soldiers didn’t look evil, or horrible in any way. I assume they were Dragon Fae, or at least attached to the Dragon Court. Which, in spite of my bias, meet them. I sighed as mage hurried us along behind Drake. This was not the time to get moral. This was the time to be fierce, and get Brennan back.
Then I’d have time to fall apart. Later.
Ahead of us, Drake stopped suddenly. He held out his hand, and mage and I stopped as well. I tried to breathe quietly as we listened.
And then I heard it. The voice of a woman, an angry woman. She wasn’t quite shouting, she wasn’t making any attempts to hide that she was angry and yelling.
A moment of silence and then to sounds rang out. Sharp, staccato, they were unmistakable.
The cracking sounds were those of one person slapping another.
We’d found Brennan.
Chapter Fifteen
Brennan
He eyed Ailla and the flask. “What is it you think you can do?” He put a laugh into his question. “Ailla, there’s a reason that Cian hasn’t let yo
u participate. It’s not because he’s protecting you from me, or from the effects of magic.” He met her eyes, and stared hard at her. “It’s because you are not capable.”
He’d either pushed her over the edge or gotten a lot closer to death. He hoped that Iris would be safe.
“You….” She started to swear at him in fae, but it was dragon-slang fae, earthy and crass. She unstopped the little flask, and wisps of smoke came out.
“This is less than you deserve, Brennan. For using me. For daring to replace me with that human!”
Ailla lifted the flask up. Brennan let out his breath, keeping his eyes on her. He would not flinch. He didn’t doubt that whatever was in it would hurt, and make him miserable. But he’d survived worse than Ailla. Interesting that Iris still bothered her so. She hadn’t wanted him, any more than he wanted her.
She tilted the little flask, and a few drops of the smoky liquid dropped onto his chest. It started to burn, and he could see smoke rising from him.
He closed his eyes. He didn’t want her to see anything that might encourage her, or make her feel powerful. He concentrated on keeping the damage at the surface, although it was hard.
He could hear his skin sizzling.
Then the door to the room slammed open. He opened his eyes to see a streak of orange light shoot from the door right at Ailla.
Ailla stepped back when the door shot open, and when the light hit her, she slammed into the bench behind her. Glass and other things shattered as she fell. The flask she’d been holding over him dropped from her hands, adding to the noise. He couldn’t see it, but it sounded like it went off with a bang.
He turned his head and saw Ailla push herself up and throw out her hand. As she did, another flash of light hit her, this time green. When she fell back, he could tell that she was hurt. She didn’t get up.
Crunching of glass on the other side of him made him turn the other direction. The movement rippled across his chest, and searing pain ripped through him where the liquid had hit.
Realms of the Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 3) Page 12
