by Elise Kova
Boltov curls his fingers and doors at the side of the hall open. A small legion of Butchers led by the leader I saw in the woods manhandles in Davien. He’s chained up, shackled, helpless. The courtiers jeer and spit on him as he is paraded through the hall to ultimately be brought before the king.
“Kneel before the true king of the fae,” the Butcher sneers, and strikes him behind his knees. Davien falls to the ground.
“This man-child is the last hope of the ‘mighty’ Aviness bloodline? This is the man who was to threaten me? Who was guarded for decades in the Natural World?” Boltov laughs, and the court laughs with him. “This pathetic creature thought he would be ordained by the ghosts of the old kings in the Lake of Anointing but lacks any true power.”
Boltov gives Davien a sharp kick underneath his jaw. One that would’ve sent Davien reeling were it not for the Butcher holding him in place by both of his arms. Blood dribbles from Davien’s mouth as he glares up at the king. He hasn’t seen me yet, which I suppose is a blessing.
“I suppose it must take a lack of true power in oneself to notice it in others,” Davien growls and spits in the king’s face.
“You uncultured cur,” Boltov almost purrs, running his claw down Davien’s cheek. “I will enjoy dismantling you, piece by piece.” Boltov glances over his shoulder. “Music, fitting for blood.”
The lead minstrel picks up his fiddle and hesitates, only for a breath. He draws a shrill note from the strings reminiscent of a distant scream. The drummer begins thumping a pulsing beat, unhasty, but determined. Horrible in how slow it is.
This is it. My chance. I lock eyes with Raph and nod as I pull the necklace from my throat, palming it in the hand I strum my lute with.
As the music picks up, I step forward. Eyes are on me as I approach. Enough that it draws Boltov and Davien’s attentions. Davien’s eyes widen slightly. I force a crazed grin across my lips so well that he’s startled.
Laughing, I twirl as I begin to strum my lute, frantic, mad. I stomp and look on eagerly. The chords I play are minor, intentionally dissonant on the off-beat to the fiddle. It’s not music, it’s horrid sound. Fitting of the look in Boltov’s eyes.
“Yes, yes!” Boltov laughs, rearing back a clawed hand. “We shall dance for his death!” The rest of the fae begin to laugh and spin as well as Boltov strikes Davien in the face. Blood spatters the floor.
My stomach churns and I keep playing. Davien is no longer looking at me. He’s hunched in the arms of the men holding him. Does he know what I’m doing? Can he see my feet? Please let him notice, I pray. In my periphery, I see Raph step forward, nerves causing the beating of his little drum to become frantic.
Everything is rising to a boiling point. Boltov’s attacks become more brutal. I keep spinning, drawing invisible shapes on the floor with my feet. They’re the same shapes I was making in the lake. The same symbols Davien and I reviewed for the abdication ritual. Hopefully, the charged start of that ritual is still within us. Waiting to be finished.
“Look upon him!” Boltov shouts. Everyone slows. I finish my movements, the necklace hot in my palm. “There is nothing special about this man. He is—”
“There might be nothing special about him, yet, but there certainly is about me,” I interrupt. Boltov spins in place. I hold up the necklace. Look at me, I say with my actions, look only at me. You failed to notice everything else I’m doing. I snarl at him, as if I, too, have wings and fangs. As if I can be as monstrous as any fae. “You want this, don’t you? This is what you need to become the true king of the fae, and not some pretend sovereign who lives in a castle stolen by his ancestors, ruling with nothing more than fractured power and fear.”
Boltov’s eyes widen slightly, and his mouth splits into a grin that exposes sharklike teeth. “You are the human.”
“And you are the last Boltov the fae will ever suffer.”
He takes my bait and lunges for me. I wait until he’s in motion; he’s too committed to change course when I release the necklace, allowing it to drop. A blur at my side whizzes past me before the pendant can hit the floor. Boltov can’t catch it, not when he’s already stretching his clawed hands toward me. Raph is so nimble and small, he’s faster than even the Butchers caught flat-footed.
I hear Hol shout. I’m focused only on Raph and Davien. The boy tosses the pendant. Davien reaches out as far as his chains will allow. His fingers close around the glass even as the Butchers are lunging for it.
“I abdicate!” I scream at the top of my lungs for all to hear. I scream so that it echoes in every recess of this ancient castle. So that my voice rattles the very foundation of this hill upon which the first fae was crowned. So that the rulers who still have their eyes on me might know my intention. “Rule in my stead; the kingdom is yours; the crown is yours; and the strength of the ancient kings is yours; rise King Davien Aviness.”
My words reverberate unnaturally in my ears. There’s a strange echo, a delay, as the world trembles beneath me. The invisible lines I drew on the floor glow in tandem with the pendant. The light becomes so bright that the floor cracks and the pendant shatters in Davien’s hands. The shackles turn to dust on him and he stands straighter than I’ve ever seen. His wounds are healed and his wings are complete, no longer in tatters. His eyes are the most brilliant shade of green that ever existed.
And they’re the last thing I see before Boltov finishes his swing for my throat.
Chapter 36
I’m going to die, that’s my first thought. And my second thought is, fight.
I fall backwards, not even caring how I might land, as long as I dodge his attack. But Boltov has fae speed and power. When his first swipe misses, he follows through on his momentum, spinning and dropping down to the ground over me. I roll, amazed his claws don’t find their mark a second time. Then I look up and see why.
Davien looms over us, still glowing and holding Boltov by his wrist. Chaos abounds in the hall; some people are running for the portcullis; some step out of the way and pour themselves fresh glasses of wine to watch the entertainment they were promised.
“For even trying to touch her, I condemn you to death,” Davien snarls. Boltov struggles to break free of his grasp, but can’t.
Butchers are charging from every corner of the hall. “Davien, Butchers!” I shout.
He glances over his shoulder to assess the threat. With his free hand, Davien grabs the glass crown on Boltov’s brow. Boltov screams. There’s a horrible ripping as the crown is freed. I watch as his flesh is sheared from bone in chunks that cling to the crown, as though it had been cemented to Boltov’s head. Davien looks at it in surprise and disgust, before throwing Boltov back into the dais with unnatural force. Boltov’s head cracks against the stone, leaving a trail of blood, and his eyes are dazed. His lids slowly droop closed. Without the crown, he looks like the frail, little man I first saw him as.
“I’ll hold them off.” Davien looks between Raph and I. “You two, find a way to free the others.”
“With pleasure.” I push myself off the ground. Davien doesn’t have time to place the crown on his brow before the Butchers are on him. The head Butcher knocks it from his grasp.
“Davien—”
“Go!” He snarls and lunges for the man who rounded up Dreamsong.
I curse, fighting the urge to stay and help him. “Follow me, Raph.”
Raph is at my side as I begin to run to the doors that Davien was escorted in from. “Where are we going? What about the people above?” I know without seeing that he’s looking up to his father.
“I’m not sure about them yet.” I push a startled courtier aside and right in the way of a lunging Butcher. “They were keeping Davien through these doors, so I can only assume that’s where they’re keeping the stronger, or more dangerous people. We need them.”
“Do we want more dangerous people?” Raph spins out of a Butcher’s grasp. He reaches into his pockets and holds up what looks to be shimmering sand. He blows it out of his p
alm and it ignites in the air, exploding into millions of tiny sparks—harmless but effective in concealing us escaping through the doors.
“We want dangerous people if they’re our dangerous people,” I whisper. Even though the main hall has erupted into chaos, these passages are quiet and I would be a fool to think that Boltov would leave his prisoners unguarded.
“Oh.” Raph gets it. “Like Vena and Shaye?”
“We can only hope.” The hall continues away, lined by doors that look far too nice to hold prisoners. “Raph, if you were keeping prisoners, where would you put them?”
“In the heart of the hill,” he answers without missing a beat. “Closer to the center where all powers are weak except for the king’s.”
“Then we head down.”
“Wait.” Raph takes my hand. “I doubt this will work, but it’s better than nothing.” He closes his eyes and a look of extreme focus overcomes him. I watch as an image overlays on top of him, slowly condensing into place like water solidifying into ice until it appears solid. Where Raph once stood is one of the Butchers who stopped us by the castle’s portcullis.
“Did you just make us both look like Butchers?”
The illusion laid on top of him nods its head. I have no idea where to look, because I know Raph only came up to my hip. “Again, I doubt it’ll work. Most fae can see past others’ glamours.”
“But it’s better than nothing. You’re brilliant.”
“Just hold my hand. I have an easier time glamouring you as long as I can touch you.”
“Fine with me.”
We start down the hall. At the end it opens into a room. Fortunately, it’s empty, and there’s a staircase that heads both up and down. We take the downward path into another room. It’s in the fourth hall that we see a group of Butchers racing past in the distance. We wait, clinging to the wall and holding our breath. Only one glances our way but doesn’t seem to register us as out of place. Raph’s glamour works.
Down another staircase, the finery of the castle is beginning to disappear and be replaced by what I would expect of the Boltovs. There are rooms designed solely for unsavory delights—the sort that makes me cringe and pass through as quickly as possible. I hold Raph’s hand a little tighter. It’s going to take him some time to process all this once we’re done. But if we succeed, he’ll be able to have that time with both of his parents still alive.
As we’re passing by a door, I hear faint mutterings inside. I halt and press my ear against it, confirming my suspicions.
“What is it?” Raph asks.
“I think they’re in here.” My hand lands on the door handle. “Are you ready?”
“After what happened in the hall, I’m ready for anything.”
“Yes you are.” I try and turn the latch, but it won’t move. I bite back a loud groan of frustration.
“It’s all right, I can take care of this one.” Raph releases my hand and the glamour disappears. His nimble fingers pick at the door and he mutters to himself. I hear the soft click of the latch coming undone. He smiles up at me sheepishly. “Don’t…tell my parents about that particular ritual, okay?”
“Your brilliant secret is safe with me.” No wonder he can get anywhere and into anything. I grab the latch again and debate how I want to proceed. Do I open the door and go in ready for a fight? Or do I try and sneak in? Unsure, I crack the door slowly. A sliver of light cuts through the doorjamb and I can hear the words more clearly.
“…you hear the echoes of screams, don’t you? Those are cheers of delight, as your fake king gets torn apart by the courtiers he would try and rule,” Allor sneers.
I open the door a little farther, poking my nose in. There’s a bloodied table in the center of the room, and all manner of wicked-looking instruments on the walls. In the back are several cages, all full of people whom I recognize from Dreamsong—namely Shaye, Giles, and Vena.
Allor paces in front of the cages, as though the bars are designed for her—to keep her out—rather than keep her prisoners in. Because if she had access to them, well, her threats make it clear what she would do.
I open the door a little bit more, the hinges are silent, and I ease myself in, staying against the back wall. Vena’s eyes dart over to me only for a second. Giles is slumped against the wall, not moving. I’m sure Shaye notices me as well, but neither her words nor demeanor betray anything.
“You would hope those are cheers of delight,” Shaye says loudly to Allor, as if trying to keep the attention on her. “Because if they’re not, it’s going to be disastrous for you, isn’t it? What do you think our new king will do to the Butchers who served Boltov so faithfully? He seems like he’s a generous man but—”
“I don’t want generosity from the likes of him.” Allor scoffs.
“No? And here I thought you wanted the generosity of kings. You don’t seem to have any problem kissing Boltov’s boots.” Shaye leans into the bars. “Maybe that’s because you realize that without him you’re absolutely nothing.”
“How dare you!” Allor rages, lunging for the cage. As she rattles the door, I slowly take a bulky steel mallet off the wall. It’s so heavy my muscles tremble just holding it up. “You are the one that is nothing. You are the one in the cage, not me.”
“I escaped the cage he put around me long ago.” Shaye smiles, keeping Allor’s focus on her and her alone. “But I do feel sorry for you, that you’re not strong enough to escape. Weak body, weak mind. It’s so very sad.”
“I’ll show you who’s weak.” Allor fishes in her pockets. As she produces a key, she sees me in her periphery, now only a step away. “What the—”
I don’t hesitate. I swing. The hammer meets the side of her head with so much force it flies from my hands and slams on the floor with a clang so loud I’m certain it’s alerted half the castle. Allor falls to the floor, motionless. I stand over her, panting softly. With one strike my pulse is racing even faster than when Boltov attacked me. Every inch of my body is aflame, panicked, ready to fight.
“Nice hit.” Shaye whistles.
“I—Do you think she’s dead?” I ask uncertainly. I didn’t expect to make good on my threat to Allor in the woods that day. I guess she was the next fae I killed.
“I hope so? I think it would be very poetic if one of their lead Butchers was killed by a human.”
As Shaye speaks, Raph picks up the key that Allor dropped and begins to unlock all the cages. Shaye is freed while I’m still staring down at Allor. She rests a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think she’s dead. Which is also good, because I’d like the honor of killing her if it’s all the same to you?”
“By all means,” I murmur.
“What’s happening?” Vena asks, emerging like she had been sitting in there by choice and not force. “I take it that the fact that you’re here is a good sign?”
“Davien has the magic of the old kings. The abdication ritual was finished. He’s up in the main hall fighting off the Butchers but he needs help,” I say quickly.
“Reinforcements are coming.” Vena looks to Shaye, who’s dragging Allor into the cage she was just trapped in. “You know where the others are being held?”
“I don’t know anything about the castle; I told you that already.” Shaye rolls her eyes. “But I can make an educated guess.”
“Do that,” Vena commands as Shaye locks the door to the cell on Allor. “The rest of you who are able to fight, come with me.”
“I can lead you back to the main hall!” Raph says excitedly.
“That is no place for you.” Vena frowns. Raph deflates some and frustration reddens his cheeks.
“Raph, I need you,” Shaye says. “I need your little fingers to get into any locked doors there might be standing between me and the rest of our friends. Plus, after we free everyone, we’re going to need a guide back to the main hall.”
“All right.” Raph looks up at Vena. “You’ll free my father, right? He’s in a cage in the main hall.”
“I will,” Vena swears.
“I can show you the way,” I say.
Vena shakes her head. “That’s no place for a human, either. You should stay here.”
“I’m going to lead you.”
“Vena is right,” Shaye says as she tends to Giles’s wounds. He groans softly. “You should stay here; it will be safer.”
“Let’s go,” I say firmly to Vena.
“This isn’t your fight,” Vena says.
“This is my fight.” I point to the ground, as if I’m making my stand, as though I’m swearing on the rock on which the first fae king was crowned. “This has been my fight from the moment the magic of the old kings entered my body—from the moment I married Davien back in the Natural World. And then I made an oath to your people. I followed through on my promises. I want to see this to the end.” I want to see the first moment Davien sits on the fae throne.
“Very well,” Vena relents with a glint in her eyes that almost looks like approval. “Lead on.”
We race back through the corridors and rooms. There’s not a sign of a single Butcher on the way. But as we grow near, I can hear why.
The fighting in the main hall has reached a fever pitch. Screams and explosions of magic rattle the doors that Raph and I escaped through. Hold on, I plead from the deepest recesses of my heart to Davien, hoping that somehow he can hear me. Hold on just a little bit longer, I have things I need to tell you.
I hang back, and let the fae charge around me. Even if this is my fight, they’re better warriors than I am. Especially since I lack all magic now.
Doors burst open to reveal a hall scarred by magic. Wispy weapons fling through the air as Butchers leap from shadow to shadow. Davien is in the center of it all. He is alight, power still rippling off of him as cold flames that deflect most of the attacks. With a mighty flap of his wings, he launches into the air, catches a Butcher by the throat, and throws them to the ground, landing atop their chest before engaging with another.
