Darius slumped in a chair, his eyelids drooping, and Taryn feared if he didn’t get some rest, he would collapse. During Ellie’s convalescence, he had hardly left her side.
“Darius, you need food. Go get something to eat. In fact…” Taryn took in Saeko and Lorilee. “All of you get out of here. Celebrate with the rest of the city and enjoy yourselves. I don’t want to see any of you until tomorrow.” They blinked at her, uncomprehending. “I mean it. Go!”
When they left, she curled up on the couch, with Kaida resting her head in her lap. Together, they listened to her uncle’s outrageous stories of his courtship to Gwyneira. Every so often Ellie would laugh, followed by a low moan of pain. When the duke stopped, Ellie would beg him to continue.
Later, after Anje said goodbye with words of advice and admonitions to be careful, Ellie helped Taryn pack by approving which outfits she would take on her trip. In that small bit of usefulness, Taryn saw the first hint of recovery. Ellie still woke every night screaming, hiding her face with her hands, but Faelara was working with her to ease her through the trauma. Even Sabina had visited the maid, encouraging Ellie to trust that with time, it would get better.
With so many invested in her health, Taryn hoped Ellie would see their efforts for what they were—an outpouring of love and a true desire for her to be whole again.
Taryn held up a dress for her maid to approve, but the girl struggled to keep her eyes open, her head nodding with sleep. She tucked her in bed with a kiss on the forehead, hating herself for leaving the others to continue Ellie’s rehabilitation, but the trip to Gaarendahl couldn’t be delayed.
Rhoane entered her rooms just as she finished packing. She suppressed a gasp at his appearance. Deep bags puffed under his eyes and his hair straggled from half-formed braids. Even though he was exhausted from interrogating the assassin, he greeted her with a smile, asking after Ellie. She gave him a brief update and then they talked quietly about the prisoner and Rhoane’s frustration that he’d said nothing more than the few words he spat at Taryn. Their only hope was to seek help from a master of Black Arts in Talaith.
Even if the assassin never said anything, as long as he was locked in the dungeons, unable to harm anyone, she was at peace.
Before first light, she and Rhoane slipped from the castle to the stables and saddled their horses. Nikosana snorted and huffed at Kaida, who snarled in return. Frustrated with their behavior, Taryn demanded quiet, her voice rattling the rafters. Niko glared at her with his large, chocolate-brown eyes, and she met his glare with her own.
“I will not tolerate either of you acting up, is that understood?” He pawed the ground, his coat twitching in agitation. Despite her daily treats, she’d not had a chance to ride him and unease crept into her voice. “Nikosana, Kaida won’t harm you.” She held out her hand to Kaida and instructed her to come forward to sniff Niko’s muzzle. The stallion reared up, but Taryn held the reins firm.
“She is a hunter. He is her natural prey. Did you expect he would be as docile as Ashanni?”
“What I expect and what actually happens is rarely the same thing,” Taryn grumped. She tried one more time to introduce the two and Nikosana allowed the grierbas to sniff his muzzle before tossing his head. “That’s good enough for now. You two better get along on the road, or I’ll find new companions.”
Kaida barked at her and loped from the stables, her bushel-brushed tail held high.
They left the castle and the city behind them, riding at an easy pace, relishing the break from court life. Fair weather followed them for the trip and unlike their journey to Celyn Eryri, Taryn begged Rhoane to slow time, postponing what was to come. Each day, at the first sign of nightfall, they found an inn and bedded in comfort for the night. Sometimes they would sit in the common room, listening to the other patrons. Other times they would linger in their bed, enjoying each other’s company. Around midday on their fifth day of travel, Gaarendahl’s shadowy silhouette loomed against the backdrop of a stormy sky and Taryn pulled Nikosana to a stop. Rhoane reined in Fayngaar, giving her a curious look.
“Are we making a mistake?”
“Only you know the answer.”
“Tell me what you feel.” She tapped her belly. “In here.”
“Zakael holds the key to many unanswered questions. You have set yourself upon this quest to find those answers,” Rhoane told her.
“I suppose, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I guess there’s no more delaying the inevitable.”
Taryn’s heart thumped in her chest as they crossed the long bridge that led to Zakael’s home. The castle was made of rough-cut stones, similar to Celyn Eryri. Whereas her mother’s winter home looked like something out of a fairy tale, Gaarendahl hunched like a grotesque fortress on a peninsula with jagged rocks forming a deadly moat. A siege here could last months with the inhabitants of the castle snug in the protective embrace of the sea. No beaches softened the fall, only sharp reefs.
A servant in Zakael’s livery greeted them while several young boys rushed out to take their bags. Taryn slipped one hand into Rhoane’s, keeping the other on Kaida for assurance as they made their way into the dark castle. To their surprise, Marissa was waiting for them in Zakael’s study. She wore a loose-fitting gown that did little to hide her voluptuous figure. Taryn was accustomed to her sister’s provocative attire at court, but to see her dressed so informally was a shock. More than her clothing, it was her manner that suggested she was a frequent visitor to Gaarendahl—her ease at directing the servants, her familiarity with even the smallest detail.
“Princess,” Rhoane said, his voice tight. “We were not aware you would be joining us.”
“Zakael thought having a friendly face around might make you more comfortable.” She kissed Taryn on each cheek. “I’m honored he wished me to be here.”
Zakael hovered beside her and she beamed at him from under her lashes. “Lord Zakael has been so gracious to welcome us to his home.”
“Prince Rhoane, I trust your journey was pleasant?” Zakael said in a friendly tone.
“It was. If you would not mind, however, we have been on the road for several days and could use a change of clothes.”
“Where are my manners?” Zakael rang a bell and two servants appeared in the doorway. “We’ll see one another at dinner, where we can discuss the purpose of your visit.”
Once away from the study, Taryn said to Rhoane, “Was that weird to you as well?”
He nodded, putting a finger to his lips, his gaze directed at their guides.
They were led to separate rooms at opposite ends of the hall from each other. Rhoane accompanied Taryn to her room and made certain she was settled before following a servant to his quarters. The candle glow became smaller and smaller the farther he walked before disappearing with a final, echoing click of his door.
That night, Zakael starred as the host and Marissa as hostess in a macabre performance. Whether meant for their benefit or not, Taryn couldn’t say, but it was clear from their intimate interactions they were much more than just acquaintances. Rhoane held her hand all evening and through her cynfar she sensed his sorrow. Even now, he wanted to trust Marissa.
I am sorry.
It is best I see this for myself. I confess I would not have believed it possible.
For the next two days, Zakael played coy with her. What he taught her of Dark Shanti was little more than she’d learned on her own. Occasionally, he tossed out a command she hadn’t thought of, but those tidbits were rare. He constantly tested the strength of her powers, probing her mind and body with his ShantiMari as if trying to find a weakness to exploit. She tolerated the subtle nudges and kept her powers muted in an attempt to play off his ego.
To taunt her, he devised lessons meant to make her supposed paltry skills look even more pathetic. Taryn went along with the game, making mistakes often enough he would underestimate her abilities. While he tested her, she studied every nuance and inflection of his actions, but it was when he tho
ught himself alone she learned the most from her half-brother. When he fully flexed his ShantiMari, she saw how he bent shadows, warping and binding them to do his bidding.
It hurt her to watch. Every command he made, every thread of power he used, he infused with a sadistic twist. She forced herself to stay hidden in corners to learn what he withheld from her. The sheer amount of power he wielded humbled her. It swirled around him in a constant frenzy to be unleashed. Zakael rarely let his guard down, making her surveillance difficult at best. Only once did she almost get caught when Marissa entered Zakael’s study unannounced, wearing only a silk robe. Her ShantiMari whirled around the room in a fury of emotion and Taryn slipped out the door a moment before it would’ve collided with her own power.
On their third night in the gloomy castle, Taryn awoke to the sound of Kaida snarling at the door. Taryn crept from her bed, sword in hand, and yanked the door open. A surprised Zakael stared, dumbfounded, before finding his voice.
“Taryn, I thought perhaps you would like a tour of the castle grounds. They are far more beautiful at night.”
“I’m sure they are, but no, thank you.”
A devilish glint lit his eyes. Behind him, two huge hounds sat on their haunches and Kaida lay on her belly, her paws outstretched, relaxed.
“You were meant to be mine, Taryn ap Galendrin. Verdaine’s prophecy is an Eleri folly, nothing more. We are meant to rule Aelinae together. That is what’s meant by bringing balance to the world. Surely you can see this is the only way.”
She’d heard his ramblings on the topic enough over the past few days she could recite them in her sleep. “You’re a sick bastard, Zakael. Let’s not even think about the fact that you’re fucking my sister and then you show up expecting me to fall into your arms. Marissa I get. You’re not blood related to her, but we share the same father. That’s just gross.” She closed the door, but he blocked her.
“It’s what the gods desire. I’ve seen our future. We shall be exalted above all others.”
“Blah, blah, blah. I get it. We’re to be gods. Nice fantasy, Zakael. It’s late—I’m tired. Can we play this game another time? How about maybe never? Now move your fucking foot before I slam this door on it.” For once, he did as told.
She shut the door and locked it with her power. Not even the exalted Zakael could get through her wards. Just to be safe, she slept with Kaida in her bed, her sword beneath her fingertips.
The next morning, Taryn wrestled with telling Rhoane about the incident. They strolled the gardens at the far end of the grounds where Taryn hoped they had a modicum of privacy. Despite the ugliness of the castle proper, the gardens were lovely. Winter blooms of white and blue wove between deep green shrubs. Vines covered the walls and archways, dripping crimson flowers that tickled her head.
“How is your training going?” Rhoane asked, as he did every day. Zakael refused to allow the Eleri near them when he worked with Taryn, but she knew Rhoane stayed close. Even without her pendant, she sensed his presence. He never used his power, but it was always nearby, a constant protection available if needed.
“It’s not. I mean, Zakael’s showing me simple things, but I doubt he’s ever going to truly help. I think—” A flicker of shadow caught her attention and she slid her gaze to where she could discern the outline of a person not more than three paces from where she stood. “I think he’s trying to figure out how to best use me.”
We need to leave this place. It is not safe here. Taryn layered the thought atop her spoken words. Kaida explored the outer gardens, sniffing the air, her gaze settling on the shadowed form. Taryn cautioned patience.
“That was always a possibility. If you do not feel Zakael can be of help, perhaps we are better suited elsewhere.” What is it? You are unsettled. His eyes widened and then narrowed. There is something just beyond your right shoulder. I know not what, but I sense something unpleasant.
“You’re right. I had hoped this meeting with my brother would be beneficial to both of us. It’s a shame, really.”
Zakael? Is he hidden in shadow? Taryn resisted the urge to confront her brother.
Yes. He is right behind you. Be careful, my love. “Perhaps you should give him a few more days. Talk to him. Let him know what you desire.”
“I will. Maybe I’m expecting too much from myself, too.” She shivered dramatically. “It’s cold. We should be inside by the fire. Kaida, come!”
Zakael followed them all the way to the door of the great room. After they were seated and Marissa brought them refreshments, he arrived, apologizing for keeping them waiting. While they played a genial game of cards, Taryn and Rhoane made plans for their departure. They agreed it would be best if they left without notice early the next morning. That night, Taryn would stay in Rhoane’s rooms. She’d not given a reason why she wanted to leave, but she suspected he could guess. Zakael wasn’t exactly discreet in his behavior toward her.
After lunch, Taryn and Zakael excused themselves to his study, where they were to have the day’s lesson. She loathed being alone with him but went along with the ruse to keep him from suspecting they’d made other plans. For two bells, they pretended he taught and she learned until finally Zakael lounged behind his desk, a mug of ale held in his hand. Two huge beasts rested at his feet, chewing on several bones.
He could’ve been handsome if not for his cruelty.
Zakael glanced up as if he’d heard her unspoken words. A glint in his ashen eyes set her on edge. “My beautiful sister,” he drawled, taking a long swig of his ale and licking his lips. “How many times will you deny me?”
“As many times as you ask. Are we finished here?”
Zakael rose, his movement so swift she hardly saw him until he stood a hair’s breadth before her. His fingers cupped her face, pinching her a little too hard. “We’ll never be finished, will we? Not until you give yourself to me as you’re meant to do.” The intensity of his gaze rocked her core. She hated this part of their conversation.
“Zakael, I’ve told you. We will never rule together. I am promised to Rhoane. My duty is to Aelinae, and the welfare of this world is what I care about more than a throne.”
His laughter, hollow and cruel, careened through the room. “The good of Aelinae? It dwells in our union, but you are blind yet to see the truth.”
“And you’re delirious. Seriously, this conversation is getting old. Either teach me how to use my Dark Shanti or fuck off.” She turned to leave, but he gripped her tighter, his hand roving to her throat. She sucked in air and glared at him. “Release me this instant.” Her ShantiMari swirled in rage, begging to be unloosed, but she tempered the frenzy. It was just like Zakael to abuse her to test her powers. She wouldn’t give in to his need.
“You and I both know you didn’t come to Gaarendahl to control your ShantiMari. You’re perfectly capable in that regard.” His words slurred slightly and Taryn smelled ale on his breath. He always had a mug when she was around, but that day he’d been drinking more than usual.
His misty eyes were like the overcast sky outside, dark and moody. His attempt to restrain her was clumsy and out of character for the usually controlled man. “You don’t want to do this, Zakael. Release me before this gets out of hand.”
He snorted a laugh. “You have no idea what I want, you stupid cunt. Go! Go back to your pathetic prince. Let’s see how long you last before you return, begging.” He shoved her backward and she stumbled over a throw rug. “You need me, Taryn. Need what I can give you. Need the knowledge that only I possess. You’ll be back, mark my words, you will—on your knees, begging for it.”
His sickening laughter followed her as she fled his study.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Taryn raced down the hallway, rubbing her neck where Zakael had choked a little too hard. He’d not only frightened her, but his advances were getting more brazen, more forceful. His ShantiMari was too strong to fight off alone. They had to leave Gaarendahl now, before Zakael made real on his threats.
By the time she reached Rhoane’s room, she shook from head to toe—from nerves, from fright, from too much anxiety for far too long. All she wanted was to grab her belongings and get the hell out of her demented brother’s home.
With a shaky hand and even shakier breathing, she entered Rhoane’s bedchamber and froze at the sight before her. Rhoane, back arched and naked, was making love to—Taryn.
The scene made no sense. Was she not in her body? Did Zakael not just try to assault her? Rhoane’s gaze slid toward her, confusion too slow in crossing his face. He looked down at the other Taryn and frowned. His sluggish movements were that of a man entirely too drunk, or drugged.
The other woman’s face shifted, cruelly morphing into that of Marissa. Her sister’s violet eyes shone with a sick triumph.
Her lips curled into a snarl as she snaked her arms to embrace Rhoane. “You truly do love to watch, don’t you?”
Bile splashed against the roof of Taryn’s mouth as a low scream started deep within. Biting back sickness, she turned and fled, a tangle of anger and repulsion crowding her thoughts.
Rhoane’s anguished cry slammed into her as she ran down the hallway. His anger blazed through her cynfar to their bonds. His ire was directed at Marissa, but she cowered from it all the same. She stumbled into her room, tripping over Kaida before crashing to the balcony and vomiting over the edge.
When nothing remained in her stomach, she gulped in salty air, burning her fragile throat. She welcomed the pain. It was a necessary distraction from the vision that wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Revenge, horrific in its beauty, thrust to the forefront of her mind.
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the mattress against the wall. Buried deep in the feathers was her sword. A dark melody played in her mind and she stilled for a moment, letting it wash over her. Kaida sat on her haunches, waiting. Taryn took a deep, shuddering breath.
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