Fate’s Destiny: Heart of Darkness Book 3

by Cassidy, Debbie

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Other books by Debbie Cassidy

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019, Debbie Cassidy

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover by Vanesa Garkova

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter One

  DAGDA

  The human male, Finn, stares at me, waiting for answers. “What’s happening?” he asks again.

  His gaze tracks over my head to the fractured shimmer, visible through the window behind me. The cracks grow and spread. The sands of time have been smashed to smithereens, and there is only one person to blame.

  I open my mouth to tell him that my vision was a lie, and my conviction was misplaced, but the words stick in my throat. I am not used to being wrong. I am not familiar with this feeling of doubt and uncertainty.

  “Dagda?” Roxy prompts.

  I glance down at the mechanical mouse crouched by my feet. Her eyes glisten with compassion and warmth even though, despite the illusion of fur and whiskers, there is no warmth inside her mechanical body. Still, her regard gives me the strength I need to accept my error.

  I take a shuddering breath. “I was wrong. I thought that sending Wynter into Faerie was what Morrigan would want. That because Wynter was created from a shard of Morrigan’s soul, her purpose was to unite the Tuatha, bring peace to Faerie, and thus thwart Oblivion by dispersing the chaos it feeds off. I believed her purpose was to do what the high queen could no longer do, but …”

  Here is the moment I admit that I am wrong again, but there is a crushing weight on my chest. The weight of a world that I may have doomed to destruction by my presumptuous actions.

  “But what?” Finn searches my face for answers.

  “I think I was meant to keep the shard safe. To send it far away from here so that Oblivion would never find it. I think … I think that by sending Wynter into Faerie, I may have given Oblivion exactly what it needs.”

  Finn blanches, his expression echoing the terror that has a cold grip on my heart. “Are you saying it has her?”

  “No. No, she’s safe for now. But it’s seen her. It’s tasted her, and it won’t stop until it has all of her.” I bridge the gap between us and grip his shoulders. “I need you, Finn. I need you to go after her and bring her back.”

  Finn’s chest swells, and he nods. “I’ll need a map and some supplies. I can leave right away.”

  I knew he wouldn’t turn down this quest, and yet a part of me wonders if I’m sending another innocent to his death.

  “Dagda? I can do this,” he assures me.

  Yes, there is determination etched on his young face. So young. Too young to die.

  I gather my thoughts. Without focus, there will be only more death. “Faerie is unmapped. The terrain often shifts, but I will list the landmarks that Wynter has traversed. She has a head start—miles upon miles—but I have faith you will catch up to her.”

  Roxy scampers up onto my shoulder. “Let me go with him.”

  I look down at the tiny construct. The mechanical mouse that has served me so well for so long. The tiny creature with a phantom heart and enough courage to fill the largest void. She is more than what she seems. She is more than I made her to be.

  “Yes.” I hold still as Roxy scampers down my body and hits the ground. “Roxy will guide you.”

  “I’ll do more than that.” Roxy shakes herself as her body begins to shift, metal sliding over metal, swelling and growing until we’re having to move back to give her space. Finn lets out a cry of alarm.

  “It’s all right.” I pull him farther out of the way as Roxy continues to change.

  With a whirr and a clink, she settles into her new form—a huge silver wolf. The cogs under her enchanted skin stop moving, and her gray eyes are hard with determination.

  “I’ll carry you,” she says. “We’ll eat up the distance. We will find Wynter, and we will bring her home.”

  And if they don’t. If they fail, then all will be lost. Because I know the truth now. I finally understand the sacrifice Morrigan made, and it is even more horrific than I could have imagined.

  Chapter Two

  The fire crackled and popped, casting its cheery glow onto the frozen landscape. It had taken Veles several long minutes to get the fire started, and then it had gone out twice. It was hard to find any dry kindling in the winter wonderland, but the Raven had sourced some from hidden tree burrows abandoned by their animal residences.

  Alaron, the winter king, or Fenn, as he was now called, was huddled across the fire from me with his men—Grendel and several hulking figures I didn’t know by name yet. Veles and Raven sat either side of me, surrounding me in their warmth. The furs we’d brought from the winter king’s hideout were a blessing. They shielded against the snap and bite of the elements, but they did nothing to dispel the icy fear in my heart because Oblivion had touched me. It had invaded my mind, and the chill of its invasion refused to disperse entirely.

  Beyond the tree line lay the desolate marshland. The bogs frozen solid by the unnatural winter. We’d traveled for hours in silence, putting distance between us and the hideout. Between us and Oblivion, but every step, every moment was another chance for it to catch up. It was everywhere and could surge up out of anything. It had lain dormant in Bertram, one of Fenn’s trusted men, and shown itself only to try and take my life. The king had ordered the rest of his crew stripped and checked for the taint before we’d left the hideout. They were clean … for now.

  I closed my eyes briefly and blew out a breath. It was over. I was safe, and we were making good headway toward the autumn lands. Another day walking and we’d be in Queen Aurelia’s domain. So far, we’d avoided any patches of tainted landscape. There’d been no tainted pixies or hobbits or bitey things. Was it premature to hope we’d make it into the autumn lands and to the autumn keep without further interception by Oblivion?

  Probably.

  “What happened?” Veles asked softly.

  Ah, yes, the dreaded retelling. I’d avoided going over my ordeal because honestly, it was like a bad dream, fractured into pieces my mind struggled to put together.

  “You said it spoke to you,” Veles probed. “But you didn’t explain what it said. What happened exactly?”

  All eyes were on me. All attention was on me.

  I stared into the flames. What had happened, exactly? “It was inside my head. I remember it wanted to
take over my body. I think it recognized me. It knew I was linked to Morrigan … He, she … it can be whatever it wants to be, but … But I got the feeling it wanted to be more.” Crud, focus, Wynter. “There was a gnawing, desperate hunger clawing at me, and I felt the vastness of its existence.” I looked up at Veles. “That thing is ancient. I remember that much.” The memory of it inside my head as it tried to crawl under my skin sent a shudder through me. “I fought it off, but then I saw something …” What had I seen? The memory surged to the surface. “I saw the great tree.”

  “The what?” Grendel looked confused.

  Of course, no one I’d encountered so far recalled the tree. “Morrigan’s main residence is the great tree.” I looked to the Raven to elaborate.

  He cleared his throat and tugged at his cuffs, his dark eyes glistening with firelight. “The great tree is the heart of Faerie, and its roots are vast and powerful, spreading out beneath the earth to the very edges of our world. It was where Morrigan began her dreaming. It is the seed from which Faerie grew. The high queen split her time between the citadel and the tree, but I believe that if she could have, she would have lived in the tree all year round.”

  “And yet none of us have heard of it?” Grendel rubbed his shaggy beard. “If I hadn’t seen the taint with my own eyes, I’d be cutting off your tongue to stem your lies.”

  The fire cracked and popped, breaking the silence that followed his statement.

  “You’ve forgotten,” Veles said. “The power Oblivion exerts has suppressed your memory of the tree just as it’s suppressed your memory of your king.”

  Fenn’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Oblivion wants to hide the tree from us, which means the tree is where Oblivion is at its weakest. In which case, its location will be tantamount to our attack plans.”

  “Attack plans?” The Raven’s lip curled wryly. “Don’t you think we tried fighting it? Oblivion is neither immortal nor mortal. It is other. Morrigan realized this. She recognized that there was no ending the dark power in its current form. We could only slow it down. Only tether it. So, she left a sliver of her soul with the Dagda and then gave herself to Oblivion. She bound with it to tether it to Faerie and stop its invasion of Yav. It took over her body and burned through what was left of her soul and became a part of her flesh.”

  “It now has a heart.” Veles’s smile was like a dagger. “And if it has a heart, it can be killed.”

  “Then we weaken it,” Grendel said. He slapped Fenn on the back. “We return your memories, get you onto the throne, and then we storm the great tree and take Oblivion’s heart.”

  The Raven looked to me. “Wynter is the only one that can tear the heart from its body. Morrigan’s body can’t be cut or maimed, but it will be vulnerable to Wynter because she was born from the soul it once carried. Wynter is all that’s left of our high queen.”

  But was I? Another memory stirred in the deep recesses of my mind, then rushed up to stab at the back of my eyes. I sat up straighter. “I saw a woman in the tree.”

  “What?”

  “When I was breaking free of Oblivion, I saw the great tree, and I was pulled inside it. I saw a woman. She was melded to the wood by dark vines, and her skin was riddled with the taint, but when I looked into her face, I knew her.” The realization had my heart hammering in my ribcage. I touched my breastbone through my furs, and my next words were a whisper. “It was Morrigan.”

  Raven’s breath exploded from his lips in a sharp exhalation. “It can’t be.”

  “I know it makes no sense, but I saw her.”

  “Oblivion was in your head,” Veles said. “Maybe you saw one of its memories?”

  That would have made sense except … “She was horrified to see me. Like I was never supposed to be here. Like it was the worst thing imaginable. She told me to run.”

  “She’s alive?” The Raven’s voice trembled.

  “So, Oblivion was unable to end her.” Veles shrugged. “She is the source of all Faerie. Maybe it doesn’t have the power to end her.”

  My mind was stumbling over the implications of what I’d seen or been shown. “But if she is alive…” I looked from Veles to the Raven. “If she’s alive, it means the Dagda was wrong. It means to kill Oblivion, we have to kill her.”

  “Then we kill her.” The Raven’s voice shook slightly. “She would want us to end her suffering. We must weaken Oblivion by uniting the Tuatha, and then we must take Oblivion’s heart and end Morrigan’s pain.”

  He was right—of course, he was—so then why was my gut squirming? There was something else. Something else that had happened during my time with Oblivion, but it was out of my reach, fuzzy and distant.

  Something important.

  An eerie screech sliced through the night, and my body jolted in response. My left hand gripped Veles’s thigh, and my right hand grabbed hold of the Raven’s.

  The night had been devoid of the chatter of animals up until now, so the sound was a jarring, frightening thing.

  The cry came again, rising on the wind and sending gooseflesh across my skin. “What is that?”

  Raven stood slowly and canted his head to listen as the call—more of a caw than a screech—cut the air again.

  “A bird.” He shot me a perplexed frown. “But not a bird.” His body tensed, and his beautiful mouth parted. “I know that sound.” His eyes grew round. “It’s a griffin. I thought they were extinct.”

  The sound came again—a desperate caw that tugged at my heart.

  I clutched at the Raven’s immaculate cuffs. “We have to help it. It’s in pain.”

  “Or it could be a trick,” Fenn said. “A tainted creature attempting to lure out its prey.”

  “I must be sure,” the Raven said. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

  “Like hell.” I pulled myself up. “I’m coming with you.”

  Veles let out a sound of exasperation. “We can’t afford a distraction right now.”

  I looked down at him. “If there’s a creature in pain out there, I can’t just leave it to suffer.”

  “Fine.” He stood and withdrew his dagger. “Let’s go find out.” Fenn and Grendel made to join us, but Veles waved them down. “Keep the fire burning. If there is something out there wanting our hides, the flames will be a deterrent to it and a beacon to us.”

  We set off toward the sound. With the heat and light of the fire behind us, the world looked dark and deadly. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, leaving little light to navigate by, and the trees grew closer together the farther we ventured. Veles’s presence was security at my back, and Raven was a slender shadow in front of me. He was a whisper twining between the trees, pulling me along with him by an invisible rope.

  The sound came again, louder this time, and this time it was accompanied by another noise. The definite flutter of wings.

  Raven’s step faltered, and then he forged on. His suspicion had been confirmed. This was the bird creature—this griffin he was speaking of.

  I’d heard the word before but had no idea what type of creature it referred to. Had Finn told me a tale with a griffin in it? No, I would have remembered if he had. Oh, God, Finn. I couldn’t fail. I owed it to him. I owed it to everyone. Maybe Veles had been right? Maybe we should turn back?

  The sound was almost on top of us this time and ended in a rattle.

  The trees parted onto a crude clearing, and a shadow shifted in the center. The moon chose that moment to emerge from the clouds, and silvery light lanced across the bulky shifting shape. The flash of battered wings and a bloody flank greeted us.

  The creature lifted its head as if sensing our presence. Its wicked sharp beak, coated in dark smears, parted on a weak caw.

  “Help her. Please,” it pleaded.

  “Horatio, is that you?” The Raven rushed across the clearing and fell to his knees beside the creature. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were all dead.”

  “Raven?” The griffin’s eyes rolled in his head. “Old friend. You m
ust save her. Save my daughter.”

  “Daughter?”

  “Mirage. The undines took her. We stopped for the night, and the undines attacked. They strayed so far … too far. The frost is water, and they navigated it easily. I thought they’d come to offer us shelter, but their eyes were black as pitch.” He coughed and hacked up blood. It trickled down the side of his beak. “They said Mirage would be an offering to the kelps. They said my flesh was unworthy.”

  “There are kelpies in the marshlands?” Veles glanced about as if expecting to see one descending on us. “The lake. Of course. They must have settled there.”

  “You need to save her. She’s just a child,” Horatio implored.

  “You’re bleeding out.” Raven shrugged off his coat and pressed it to the griffin’s flank. “I need to stop the bleeding.”

  “No. I’m fine. I will be fine. Please. Save Mirage. Get to her before they drag her into the lake.” He coughed, and his chest rattled and heaved with exertion. “Please.”

  I grabbed my bone dagger. “Which way to the lake?”

  Veles grabbed my elbow to stall me. “Wynter, you heard what he said. The undines’ eyes were as black as pitch, which means they’re tainted.” His voice was a rumble of concern. “Untainted undines can be reasoned with, they can be relied upon for assistance across any body of water because what they lack in stature they make up for in numbers, but if Oblivion has them in its thrall, then they will more than likely drown us. That coupled with the fact that they’re taking food to the kelpies, who are probably also tainted, means we’ll be taking on a mini army. Wynter, kelpies hunt in packs. They’re vicious predators who, although they take human form, care nothing for niceties.”