The Immortal Queen

by Jennifer L. Hart

  Then comes the pain.

  It’s as though his blood boils within his veins, as though a million shards of glass rip through his innards. Agony so sharp it is almost sweet. Aiden loses track of the others, of everything but the sensations burning through him. The wolf struggles to take over, to revisit the pain on the one inflicting it tenfold. It craves the crunch of bone between its jaws, the knowledge of life extinguished.

  It is that part of him that recognized its mate in Nic. The serial killer and the remorseless hunter. The animal knows it’s kill or be killed. It greatly admires the predator within her. She’s his match in destruction and death, the one that would rule upon a throne of bones beside him at the end of all things. The beast tears at him, shredding Aiden’s control. She’s in danger. He must fight them, must kill them all.

  But the white-hot agony tears through them both, no enemy to grapple with, just wave upon wave of unending pain.

  When he finally comes to, the wolf in him is sluggish and slow to respond, whether from the drug or the struggle, he doesn’t know. His body is slick with sweat, his mouth dry. He can’t hear anything above the gallop of his heart. The wolf curls in on itself, no longer fighting to be free. Conserving its strength, knowing its moment will come. His vision blurs but he makes out the outline of the fey entertainer.

  The air around him ripples and then it is as though Aiden is looking into a mirror. The dark hair, the green eyes. It’s him, a perfect copy of him, albeit one looking less ragged around the edges.

  “Incredible.” Dav breathes.

  Roc stomps over to a stone outcropping, picks up a bundle and heaves it at his doppelgänger. “An exact replica of what he was wearing. You have all you need?”

  The fey wearing his skin pulls the clothing on. “His flesh memories are...odd. There’s something more to this being than my abilities can read.”

  “Are you trying to back out?” Dav asked in a low voice. “I warn you if you double cross us—,”

  The shifter shakes his head. “No. Simply that there are too many experiences within the man to copy. I had to pick and choose, so I focused on the ones pertaining to what he knows of her. Her weaknesses, her insecurities, her desires. I will be able to manipulate her with what I’ve gleaned.”

  “She won’t,” Aiden wheezes, lungs still constricted from pain. He can’t get the rest of the sentence out.

  Green eyes turned on him. “Believe me? I assure you, she will. According to your own flesh memories, you’ve been struggling to gain her trust for weeks. Trust is a fragile thing, slippery to hold and easy to shatter.”

  “Please,” he implores the creature, unashamed of begging. “Don’t do this.”

  Rok interrupts. “You know the script. You’re heading for the Valley of Lost Souls, she must stay behind and accept Wardon.”

  “Are the ones she seeks actually in the Valley of Lost Souls?”

  “No idea.” Dav shrugs. “Does it matter?”

  “Only if whoever they are return and spoil the ruse. Loose ends have a way of tripping one up.” The entertainer nods in his direction. “What of him?”

  “Once you convince her that he is abandoning her, return here. We will kill the wolf and return his body to her. Abandoned with no way to cross back through the Veil or finding her companions, she will have no choice but to accept the king’s generous offer. Wardon will bind her to him and once the king has claimed her magic and title, she will meet with an untimely accident. No loose ends to trip over.”

  With one final glance at Aiden, the shifter departs with a promised, “I’ll return when it is done.”

  Aiden closes his eyes, praying to whichever god might still favor him that Nic would see through the imposter. No matter that his wolf was in a near frenzy at the thought of Nic in danger, he had to keep it in check, to stay put, no matter what the trolls do to him.

  For now.

  A hand grips him roughly by the hair and he looked up to see Dav’s menacing face looming over him. “Now for the fun part.”

  Encounters in the Dark

  I flatten against the wall, one arm going out to hold Harmony back. The gesture is a futile one, seeing as how either Wardon or the person coming down the stairs will have to pass no less than a foot from us in order to continue on their way.

  The scrape of stone on stone fills my ears and a fresh gust of sea air wafts into the close space of the corridor. It’s coming from in front of us, from the direction of the Seelie king. There must be some sort of alternate exit. Either that or the king created one specifically for his use. His footsteps continue, now tracking away from our hiding place. On impulse, I grip Harmony by the wrist and dart after him.

  The door, which is really more of a gap in the sandstone is collapsing in on itself, sealing the passageway shut. Beyond it lies more darkness, save for a bobbing blue-green light, more magic wielded by the king no doubt. I have all of two seconds to decide and, then dropping Harmony’s wrist, dive through the hole into the waiting blackness.

  I hear her gasp and a moment before the hole closes entirely, she follows my lead, landing directly on top of me. All the air is forced from my lungs but our collision is near silent. The scuff of the stone would have covered any noise of our pursuit.

  “What now?” The seer hisses in my ear.

  I shove her off me and automatically check for damage, relieved when I find nothing beyond a few scrapes. Clambering up, I dust myself off, jaw set in determination. “Now, we follow him.”

  To her credit, Harmony doesn’t argue. Not that I thought she would. Having alerted me to Wardon’s deception, the seer had placed all her eggs in the Queen Nicneven basket and has no choice other than to hope I wouldn’t drop the aforementioned basket.

  The light from Wardon’s magic glowing orb is barely visible, though it seems to be descending. Feeling my way with the toe of one boot, I tap the ground ahead of me, searching for the distinctive edge of a step. There is none though the ground does slope downhill. A ramp then. Perhaps to cart heavy goods into the sand castle?

  Whatever its original function the tickle of dust against my sinuses and the eerie brush of cobwebs on one searching finger tells me the passage is seldom used. Chances are good that we won’t run into anyone else. Unless Wardon decides to do an about face of course.

  Careful not to make any noise, I start down the ramp, keeping one hand on the rough sandstone wall and my gaze affixed to the bobbing blue green light ahead. I hear the creak of leather as Harmony falls in behind me. No hunter, the seer’s breathing on my neck is loud enough to wake the dead. But with my ears open, I can detect the roar of the ocean, which should conceal our pursuit.

  There’s no way to tell how long we walk, all I have to count are my erratic heartbeats. Whatever Wardon is up to, the king obviously doesn’t want witnesses. Otherwise why take such a secretive route out of his own home?

  And I would further assume that whatever his aim, I suspect it has something to do with me or Aiden or Nahini. Or all three.

  Our decent into the abyss continues, with only the bobbing aqua light to mark the distance between us and the king. The roar of the ocean grows louder, thunderous and it seems to be coming from...overhead? I glance up at the same time as Harmony breathes, “We’re beneath the sea.”

  I swallow and eye the rough-hewn ceiling, hoping that it’s structurally sound. Not that we have to worry overmuch about drowning. Too far from either end, the smallest crack in the infrastructure will lead to us being crushed beneath tons of sea water.

  Okay, well nothing to be done other than to continue on as we had been.

  After another immeasurable span of time, the floor beneath our feet begins to even out, the crashing of waves subsides. We must be beyond the sandbar then or too deep down to hear the waves hitting the shore. Neither thought is comforting. Gradually the slope starts to rise. The incline is slight at first, so much so that I wonder if I am imagining it. Where the hell is Wardon heading? I wish I had a map of Underhill, though
deep down I knew it would do no good. The fey realm changes and shifts at will. Where a mountain range might exist today, a swamp could be tomorrow, the land beneath our feet as prone to relocation as the beings that tread upon it.

  I look up and freeze. The flickering light winks out. We are in total darkness.

  Harmony grips my hand. Hers is clammy. She squeezes once and then let’s go. I read her nonverbal message loud and clear. Maybe Wardon knows we’re following him. Perhaps he’s lurking up there in the dark, ready to spring out at us like some sort of ghoul.

  Even if he is, there’s no going back the way we came. Taking a deep breath, I surge ahead, willing this purgatory to end.

  Aiden, I call out mentally. Hang on.

  There is no reply. But a few more steps and I breathe easier. Wardon doused his light because the tunnel finally ends, depositing us on a beach. After the total blackout, the light from the waxing moon peeping through palm fronds is almost blinding. I pause, giving my pupils time to adjust to the flood of illumination and to spot my prey.

  Wardon is nowhere in sight, but I can hear his voice even though the words are indistinguishable. It sounds like he’s heading to the left, up the bank behind me.

  “...Pay what you owe.” Another booming voice demands.

  A familiar one at that. Unless I’m mistaken, it belongs to the giantess, Angrboda.

  Eager to learn more I scramble up the bank toward the sound.

  They are standing on a strip of pristine beach. Unlike the last time I saw her, the Hag of the Ironwood is contained to a more standard mortal size, although she still stands half a head above Wardon. Her blood red hair is woven into a loose braid. She’s clothed in what appears to be some sort of fur bikini, though it isn’t molded to her. A strip of fur is wrapped around her breasts, another encircles her waist. Her stomach, arms and legs are exposed, her feet bare where they sink into the sand.

  “You’ll get him when I have another infusion of magic, not before.” Wardon says. “The Risen Queen is stronger than any led me to believe. I need more power to subdue her.”

  “That,” Angrboda says, a sneer in her voice, “Is not my problem. We had a bargain and you will uphold your end of it. I want Loki’s son.”

  Aiden? Why would Angrboda bother with him? And had I just heard Wardon admit that I possess greater magical abilities than he did? He who created a castle out of the beach around him?

  Or maybe he hadn’t. If he was somehow siphoning magic from a giantess, perhaps Wardon isn’t so powerful as he led me to believe. Maybe his all-powerful persona is just like my Ice Bitch mask. Theater meant to help further his ends.

  “I’ll give him to you. But the Unseelie queen must see greater demonstrations of my power. She cannot learn that the magic of the Seelie court is failing.”

  Failing? Is that why Wardon is using trolls as hired thugs to protect his kingdom? To keep order by brute force instead of with magic? Perhaps it is simpler to make the trolls immune to daylight than to use magic for every tiff and squabble. Even if those same brutes abuse his subjects?

  “You bore me, Master of the Waves,” Angrboda pivots on her heel as though to walk away. “You will get nothing more from me until you’ve met my price.”

  “I have more to offer. I’ll give you the spirit caster,” Wardon calls out at her retreating back.

  She slows. “The one of the Hunt? Nicneven’s third? What would I do with her?”

  My breath catches in my chest. Nahini. Wardon’s had her all along.

  “Ransom her. Steal her abilities. Carve her up for stew. The choice is yours, my lady. Consider her a gift. To tide you over until I have secured the Unseelie queen.”

  Harmony touches my leg, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I slither back down the bank and move away from Wardon and the giantess. “What?”

  “I know where we are,” she says.

  “Good for you.” I glance over my shoulder back toward where we’d come from, more interested in the rest of the conversation between Wardon and Angrboda.

  Harmony grabs a strand of my hair and yanks. “Listen. We are on the outpost island. There is a lighthouse over there, you can see the light when it turns our way. And see there? That’s where the sea dragons nest.”

  “As fascinating as all this is,” I begin but she barrels on ahead.

  “And over there,” she points to a high cliff about a mile away, as the crow flies. “Is where the king keep prisoners.”

  My breath catches. “You’re sure?”

  She nods. “The trolls like to brag about how they torture enemies of the crown. Some, like Galfin Dunn are honorable. Many are not. They delight in pulling their victims apart a piece at a time.”

  Aiden. I take two steps toward the peak before my brain kicks in. I freeze and throw a glance over my shoulder, back toward the beach where Angrboda and Wardon may or may not have concluded their bartering. With my third as their bargaining chip.

  Angrboda, like all the other giants, possess great deals of magic and knowledge. Enough to travel the distance of Underhill in a heartbeat. Herself and whomever was with her. If Wardon hands Nahini over to the Hag of the Ironwood, we might never get her back.

  But can I really leave Aiden to whatever suffering he might be enduring at the hands of the trolls? The imposter came to me hours ago. Who knows what sort of shape he’s in, what they’ve done to him over the intervening time.

  It feels as though my body morphs to metal and two equally strong magnets are pulling me in two opposite directions. My friends, both in peril, both of whom I’d let down. Can I really choose to help one, knowing it could mean death—or worse—for the other?

  If only I know what state they are each in. Nahini has been missing the longest. She might be in worse shape. Wardon must have incapacitated her somehow in order to keep her under lock and key. Aiden has his wolf as a trump card, he might have escaped already.

  But what if he didn’t? What if he can’t? What if it is already too late?

  This dithering is getting me nowhere. I need something that will break the tie, a glimpse into the end result, a way to see the future...

  My gaze shifted to my companion. “Are both of my companions being held in the same place?”

  “No.” The seer shakes her head. “Wardon won’t trust the trolls to guard her. They are...brutal to female prisoners.”

  “Then where?” I begin but she cuts me off.

  “I don’t know where she’s being held, only that she’s in stasis of some sort.”

  “If I go after Aiden, will I lose Nahini?”

  She stills, her eyes going unfocused, the pupils shrinking to pinpricks. “Yes. As well as the rest of the Wild Hunt.”

  “And if I wait here for Nahini?”

  “Your wolf will die,” she confirms.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. My lids squeeze shut. “How do I choose?”

  HARMONY TOUCHES MY arm. “There is a way to get them both back. Though neither

  will be as you remember them.”

  Her words sound both ominous and hopeful. “How?”

  “Give the king what he wants. Agree to marry Wardon.”

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  “He will not wed you until after your gauntlet trial and your claiming of the Unseelie thrones, but he will agree to return your people as a bride price.”

  The thought makes my stomach twist. Not only because I find the Seelie king icky, but he’s also a bit of an idiot. Borrowing magic from Angrboda to pay for the troll protection and using my people as payment. How can that possibly turn out well?

  “What of his deal with the giantess?” I ask. “He promised to give Aiden to her.”

  “Eventually.” The words are sly, a treacherous sparkle reflects in her eerie eyes. “He stalls because he knows you will pay more for the wolf than she ever will. And he can simply hand the wolf over, fulfilling his bargain, then have the trolls shoot her with fey bane or another poison to drain her magic.”

  “But sh
e’s been helping him.” Though I still don’t know why.

  “Giant magic is temporary, Wardon wants magic that will last.”

  “I don’t understand. What exactly is his end goal?”

  Harmony swallows. “Magic follows the life cycle of the fey. When we are born we have the potential for magic, just as we have the potential for walking, talking, dancing. As we grow, the muscles become stronger, allowing us more control over the magic. But as we age, they sometimes break down. Even for the forever young, overuse of magic means no longer being able to wield the power we could in our prime. This loss is devastating, especially to one like Wardon, who leaned so heavily on his magic use for centuries.”

  “He told Angrboda that the magic of the Seelie was failing.” I say.

  “No, it is his own abilities that deteriorate and he fears his loss of power. He’s done...unspeakable things to keep it. It is that which he hopes to reverse.”

  I raise a brow. “So, he’s having some sort of midlife crisis? I’m supposed to be his trophy wife?” Ick.

  She ignores my snarky comments. “Long ago, it was foretold that if the Seelie and Unseelie courts ever joined together, the combined magic could overthrow even the gods. Wardon is counting on that, which is why he will give you your people back. It’s the only way to save them both.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re saying that either I sacrifice one of my friends...or my freedom? To the fey who convinced Brigit to murder me?”

  Harmony nods. “It’s the only way.”

  My molars clench. Aiden would tell me not to do it, to give him up so I could be free. Nahini would fall on her sword as well. I’m not nearly so altruistic. But I’ve already murdered one fey ruler, why not another? After he gives me what I want, of course.

  “Okay,” Meeting Harmony’s gaze, I blank my expression to keep my long-term plan to myself. I still don’t trust her, and the fact that she’s suggesting I kowtow to Wardon’s wishes makes me twice as wary.