The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4)
Page 19
“I don’t think that would be entirely appropriate.” He smiled and let his fingers brush hers.
Darah blushed. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
He hoped she was thinking about the last night they’d spend together. “I know. I just like getting a reaction from you. Something you can’t hide.”
She looked at him for several heartbeats her eyes were pale and unreadable. “That you can do that is a concern.”
“No it’s not. That you hide behind an icy wall so no one knows what’s really going on is more worrying. You need to let people in.” Let me in. He trusted her because he’d known that she was a spy and would betray him, but he didn’t hate her for it. She was doing her job, and she’d done it well—playing both him and her king. His world had been a little brighter with her in it…a little less gray.
He liked her more than he should. More than he’d ever let himself care about anyone.
Darah shook her head. “Fairies don’t gamble with their hearts.”
“If you never take the risk, then you can never win.” He couldn’t imagine living a life trapped within rigid rules. He liked taking a chance, it didn’t always pay off, but he knew that he could always roll again. This was not going to be his last roll of the dice. He’d make damn sure of that. Do whatever it took to make sure of that.
“Or lose,” she whispered.
“That’s called living.” He reached his other hand through the bars and touched her cheek. Her skin was warm and he wanted more than just a touch.
She turned her head into his touch. “Felan asked if I trusted you.”
“What did you say?” For some reason gaining her trust was more important than her affection. Affection could be faked. Trust was much harder to come by and harder to fake since it was judged by actions.
“Yes. I shouldn’t though.”
“I’ve never hidden what I am and neither have you. Perhaps we have been too honest.” He let his hand fall away.
Darah stepped closer. “I have to go. Time is passing across the veil.”
He nodded. He knew time moved differently. Every hour here could be a day there. “Take care. Don’t let Kaid goad you. Penn knows most of what I was planning, but you and Kaid will have to deal with the humans.” Neither Darah nor Kaid were what he’d call good with people. “Try not to use glamours.”
“Hopefully this won’t be for long. Don’t do anything rash. No deals.”
He noticed that she didn’t agree to not using glamours, but he didn’t press the point. If she made that promise and then something happened he didn’t want her to be in the position of having to choose between breaking her word or letting his business fall over. He on the other hand may not have that luxury when it came to gaining his freedom.
“I may have no choice.” He’d already faced that possibility. Marlis had warned him it might come to a deal. If his only way out of jail and Annwyn was to make a deal with the King, then so be it.
Darah bit her lip and wouldn’t meet his gaze. He’d never seen her look so openly worried. Should he be more worried? “I never thought this would be so hard.”
His heart did a little leap. She did care. Beneath the cool exterior there was a fire. But he didn’t rush in as he wasn’t that keen on getting burned. “Saying goodbye?”
“Reporting on you. It felt wrong.”
That made him happy, but he didn’t risk letting it show. “Sorry to be an inconvenience,” he said with a smile
“Just kiss me goodbye. The sooner I go the sooner I’ll be back with news.” She leaned in, her face against the bars.
Henry brushed his lips over hers. He was going to miss her more than he wanted to admit. Was it love? He wasn’t sure as he didn’t think he’d been in love before—not because he couldn’t or was afraid like Darah, but because he’d never let people close. “I might have rolled the dice with my heart on the table.”
The words slipped out, but once spoken he didn’t want to take them back. He wanted her to know in case this roll didn’t go in his favor.
She gasped, but didn’t pull away. “You shouldn’t admit those things even if they are true. It could be used against you.”
“Only you know. You won’t use that against me. I want to know how the dice land. I want to know if you have anything on the table.” His heart thudded, getting louder with each beat in the silence. In his mind the dice bounced and she swept the table clear taking his heart in the process and leaving him with nothing.
Darah stepped back, the mask quickly forming so he couldn’t guess what she was thinking. “I can’t answer that.”
That wasn’t a no, even if it wasn’t a yes. He smiled, but it was tight, and so did she. They weren’t going to talk about it, but she was as invested in the game as much as he was. That was something. He watched as she walked away, for a long time he stood there leaning against the bars. His lips still tasted of her. He let his forehead rest on the silver bars as he tried to picture some kind of future with Darah in it and failed. She belonged here and he belonged there. She was Court and he was a Grey with a borrow soul.
A day had already passed in the mortal world by the time Darah returned. Dusk was falling, but all she could think about Henry and the way he’d kissed her. The bars between them keeping them from getting too close. Then his words widened the gap. He said things she couldn’t. It was one thing to know that she’d fallen for him and another to admit it. It had been hard enough admitting to Felan that she trusted Henry.
Love was dangerous.
She’d seen the most powerful fairies fall into disgrace because of love. Had Shea fallen for Eyra? Was it love that had driven him or purely lust for power? If her husband had betrayed her for love, that she could forgive. Given that he was dead and so was the old queen she’d never know the truth.
The old Court where scheming and power were placed above all else was gone. She had her place on the Council and would be able to make sure that it didn’t make a return. She had everything she wanted.
Except Henry.
He was there and she was here.
He should be here with her. Her steps faltered. It was true, the whole time she’d been in Annwyn she’d wanted to come back. And yet she couldn’t tell Felan that she didn’t want to be on his Council. Not after everything she’d been through to get there. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be on the Council as much as she wanted to be in the mortal world.
Nor could she tell Henry that she wanted nothing to do with him and that she was staying in Annwyn.
Where her path should’ve been clear it was now hidden.
Before her the casino loomed. By now Henry’s Greys would know that he was gone, they would know it was her—unless Penn had convinced them it really was Weylin. Kaid had no good reason not to tell the truth. He’d tolerated her while she was useful and that was all. Once again she felt vulnerable walking into the casino, and this time she was no longer anonymous. She’d worked with the people and they’d accepted her. It wasn’t just Henry she’d betrayed. It was all of them.
That she’d had no choice was a hollow comfort. Her word had been given to the King and she would not break that. Henry understood that. Would anyone else?
She walked past the gaming tables. A few Greys looked up and acknowledged her as she made her way to the bar that was where Henry held his Court.
Kaid and Penn were sitting at a table talking when she walked in. She braced herself for the accusations, but Kaid beckoned her over. Once she would’ve taken that as an order, not an invitation, and bristled at the gesture. Now she joined them and accepted the glass of liquor they poured her while waiting for the questions to start.
“How is he?” Kaid topped up his glass.
“Alive and in jail awaiting his audience.” If the Queen hadn’t been in labor, perhaps he’d have been seen sooner. Or perhaps Felan would’ve still made the point that he was King and Henry was a subject.
Penn nodded. “That is better than the alternative.�
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“He is worried about what was happening here.” She left out the bit about Felan asking her to keep an eye on things.
“Ah, so you are now his spy.” Kaid laughed but it was cold and harsh.
She didn’t find it very amusing. “I’m not spying. I said I would keep him informed about what was happening here as I’m the only one who can cross the veil.” She gave Kaid a pointed smile. He couldn’t cross the veil because he’d tasted mortal blood.
Kaid’s eyes narrowed. “And your King is happy with this arrangement?”
Darah took a sip of the liquor. It burned, but she knew it wasn’t poison—although if she drank too much it would make her ill. Dodging the question wouldn’t win her any points. She was here to help in Henry’s absence. The best way to ensure that was to tell the truth, as much as she hated revealing everything.
“He also wants me here to see what happens. I think he wants to know how much sway Henry has.” She didn’t know what would be better, that everything fell apart without Henry or if everything kept moving awaiting his return.
“That’s a dilemma.” Penn laced his fingers. “For the moment no one else knows you can cross the veil. They believe it was Weylin who let word get back to Annwyn. He was run out of town.” Penn grinned. “That solved two problems in one stroke.”
That they had kept her secret surprised her. She’d thought they’d expose her in a heartbeat, but she wasn’t naive enough to ask why they’d protected her when they knew she was Annwyn’s spy.
She didn’t need to ask. They were still acting as though Henry was in charge and Henry had accepted her and her role for Annwyn.
But for how long would Penn and Kaid wait before they tried to take over? She glanced between the two men. Penn couldn’t be seen in public and Henry still had Kaid’s bridle. But if Penn were to get the bridle…she snapped her thoughts away from treachery. Not everyone behaved like a power crazed fairy.
“How long until everyone starts to get anxious about the absence?” That was a much safer line of conversation that could still reveal a lot.
Kaid glanced at her and gave a single nod as if happy with her question. “Not long. No more than a week. I’d say.”
If Henry wasn’t back soon, his work would start to fall apart. The Greys would start making trouble and then Annywn would have to step in and break up the gathering. Was that what Felan wanted? If so, why not just do it since he had the power?
While she may not know the inside of Henry’s business she’d seen how he worked and controlled the Greys. They had to attempt the same. “Well, we need to give them something to do. Did Henry mention if he had selected a second community garden location?”
Chapter 19
Food had been delivered to his cell. He was hungry and thirsty. However not quite hungry or thirsty enough to risk letting fairy food pass his lips. Not yet anyway. But soon. Definitely by morning. The night sky was a dark purple that seemed closer than it did across the veil. He wrapped the blanket around him and lay on the piece of tree that passed for a bed, watching the sky.
Something made him sit up, a movement or a whisper more felt than heard.
His body tensed but he kept his breathing even—too many people braced for an attack by holding their breath. Gradually he forced his muscles to relax. No one was coming up the stairs to kill him. And yet…
There was movement. He shrugged off the blanket and stood. The air around him was throbbing. Was this normal for night time?
Something in his cell moved, he spun, fists loose and ready, expecting to see someone but there was no one. He was wide awake and alert now. His heart beating too fast. If he was attacked, there was no where he could flee to. He was trapped.
Above him there was a rustle. He glanced up. The tiny green buds exploded into leaves. Branches grew as he watched and sprouted more leaves.
Panic kicked hard. He was going to be impaled, and there was nowhere he could stand that was safe as the whole cell was made of tree. This was not the kind of death he’d envisioned and it wouldn’t be clean or painless. He pressed himself against the silver bars.
He’d never been one for praying. The human church saw him as a demon and he didn’t know what fairies believed in…themselves? But he took a moment to ask the universe not to skewer him with a branch. He was trying to make up for youthful, and not so youthful, misdeeds, and needed a second chance.
The floor didn’t change. The ceiling remained above his head. And the branches didn’t fill the open space in the cell. He didn’t know how long passed but the new growth slowed. He drew in a deeper breath.
Was the air now warmer?
A white flower blossomed above him, a delicate tendril coiled down and a few more flower buds formed, but the growth of the tree had slowed to a pace he could no longer see.
The panic eased a fraction as he realized he wasn’t going to be killed by a tree. He touched the flower and stared up at the ceiling now made up of a thick mat of leaves. He was no longer able to see the stars in the purple night sky.
Summer. It was summer in Annwyn.
He laughed and the last of the tension drained away. That meant the Queen was no longer in labor. He was guessing that everything had gone well and that was why summer had arrived in a flurry of leaves and petals.
How many people got to see the change of season in Annwyn?
Not many. Even less saw it from a cell at the top of the castle.
Henry sat back down on the branch that formed a shelf suitable for a bed, and pulled the blanket around himself. Sleep was even further away as he lay down.
With luck he’d be seeing the King tomorrow.
He woke with a dry mouth and his belly aching. He’d been hungrier—but that had been many, many years ago and he couldn’t plead his case if he couldn’t talk or was dead. He glanced at the plate of fruit and cake and the cup of wine.
It was still several moments before Henry could bring himself to lift the wooden goblet and bring it to his lips. Longer before he tipped it so the liquid touched his mouth. He closed his eyes and hoped he wasn’t making a fatal mistake. Then drank. Only a few sips at first to see if anything happened.
Nothing.
But now he couldn’t leave Annwyn unless the King allowed it. He glanced at the bars…not much had changed. Since he was already damned he ate the cake and then the fruit. At least his stomach wouldn’t grumble and offend the King.
In daylight he inspected the leaves and the flowers and tried not to get impatient. Impatience led to mistakes. Mistakes here would have consequences he couldn’t yet fathom.
He had no idea how long had passed before he heard someone approaching. Darah? The Hunter? He smoothed his now sleep rumpled clothing and stood by the silver web waiting.
A young man with dark hair and pale green eyes approached. While he was obviously fairy, he wore jeans and a shirt like a human, but his green waistcoat was long and covered in detailed gold embroidery. Gems dotted the hem. This was no low level fairy. The fairy had an air about him as though he was used to being obeyed.
Belatedly Henry realized this was the King. He took a step back and bowed.
“The last time I was up here was to say farewell to my mother before she was thrown in the river for treason.” Felan put his hands behind his back. “I don’t enjoy sending people to the river.”
So don’t do it was the easy answer, but one that wasn’t an option. A ruler that didn’t occasionally use the full extent of his powers would face challengers. Henry didn’t want to be the example.
“I’m sure they don’t enjoy it either, Sire.”
Felan didn’t answer. He looked at Henry as though he was a bug to be studied. “Tell me, Henry Saint, do the souls you take enjoy it?”
That wasn’t something he’d ever really thought about. The humans certainly didn’t enjoy it, but he was sure no one enjoyed dying. “I don’t know. I cannot talk to them once they are in me. They do me no harm. I guess they like to live and since I am the
new vessel I am their only choice.”
“And how do you acquire these souls?”
Henry was damn sure that Felan already knew the answer. “With a kiss. These days I choose those that prey on others. The criminals. I was once less careful.”
“Do you give them a choice or promise them anything?”
Henry shook his head. “No. I have never tricked a human out of their soul.” He knew that fairies did.
The corner of Felan’s mouth twitched up on one side. “So you are aware of Annwyn, our laws and our customs. You are also aware of what you are and your parentage.”
“I became aware in my forties. I was told what I was. As for my parents? I have no idea. I never knew my father and my mortal mother was the first person I killed—or so I believe. It seems a logical assumption.” There was no way he’d ever learn the truth about that, and he’d carried that guilt for a long time even though he’d been too young to understand what had been happening. Would it count against him? Should it?
Felan nodded. “I understand the need for a soul is a compulsion that you can’t avoid.”
The King had done his research when it came to darklings, via Darah or by other means? Verden had known what he was and had no doubt kept a distant watch on him. “It’s a hunger that once a year I must feed, or I die.”
“But you’ve killed others.” That wasn’t a question. Felan’s pale gaze has as hard and unflinching as a glacier.
Henry looked away first.
Murder. He couldn’t weasel out of those charges. He had killed, but not frequently and never for pleasure. “Yes. Some were accidental before I knew. Some for survival when it was me or them. Others because I needed to heal. My body doesn’t heal on its own and the scars never fade.”
Felan’s eyebrow moved a fraction, interest or disbelief it was hard to tell. “We don’t know much about darklings so I will take your word for that.”
Didn’t know much? He seemed to know plenty. But if the King was curious Henry was happy to feed him. A little good will could go a very long way.