“It’s exactly what I need.”
His chuckle rose up in the frozen air like sunshine, and the dark pit Finn’s rejection had opened inside me began to close.
Chapter Twelve
The sun came up slowly, spreading like warm honey across the white-coated land. Our pace was steady, and our eyes ever vigilant. The undines and then the creatures in the fog, what would be next?
But hours slipped by and nothing attacked. No strange elements fell on us. Maybe we’d reach the autumn city without further mishap after all.
Fenn and his men walked ahead, while Roxy and Finn made up the lead with Dareth at their side. The gancanagh was in deep conversation with Finn, gesticulating now and then with his hands in an animated fashion. Finn nodded periodically, and at one point even threw back his head and laughed.
The sound both warmed and chilled me because it was a sound I loved, and yet it wasn’t a sound made for me. He wasn’t laughing at something I’d said. He wasn’t looking into my eyes with the merry twinkle that coaxed bubbles of joy to expand in my chest.
I took a shuddering breath to quell the ache in my heart. I was flanked by two men whom I loved. Two men who accepted me for who and what I was. There was no shame in that, and there was no shame in mourning the death of what had never fully started.
Up ahead, one of Fenn’s men cried out and pointed at another. The group separated, pulling away from the fur-cloaked man who was now the sole object of everyone’s attention.
He was shaking his head, hands at his neck as if to hold himself together.
“What the fuck?” Veles broke into a jog to catch up, and after exchanging a glance, the Raven and I followed.
The Raven’s hand wrapped around mine as we came to a standstill by the gathered troop.
I turned to Fenn. “What’s going on?”
“Tiron is infected,” he said gruffly. “Damn it. He’s infected.”
Grendel had already drawn his sword and was moving toward the tainted man.
“No!” I stepped forward, taking Raven with me. “You can’t just kill him.”
Grendel stopped and looked over his shoulder at me, his craggy face a mask of sorrow. “You think I want to do this? There is no other choice. We let him live, and he becomes Oblivion’s eyes and ears. It’s a mercy to end him now.”
The man stumbled back, one hand at his throat, the other held up to ward off Grendel. No one attempted to touch him or to stop him from running – they were probably afraid they’d get infected. But Tiron didn’t try to run. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t get far with Grendel on his tail.
“Please. Don’t,” he said, voice trembling.
But there was little hope for a reprieve on his devastated face. He knew what was in store for him. Maybe a part of him even agreed with the decision. But survival was an instinct that made a coward of even the most valiant warrior.
The infection peeked out from beneath the hand at his throat, and as we watched, it inched its way up over his jaw and onto his cheek.
It was spreading.
How much of his body was covered in it? How long had he been infected? We’d checked everyone when we’d left the keep. Had we missed the signs, or had he become infected on the journey, which meant there could be more men infected?
Grendel strode toward the man and raised his sword, ready to strike a blow.
My lungs squeezed painfully. “Stop!”
Grendel growled and lowered his sword. “Fenn, tell the lass to shut the fuck up. This is hard enough as it is.”
The winter king’s icy eyes were clouded with conflict. “Wynter, it’s the only way. There is no way to stop the infection. No way to stem it. This man is already dead. We’re simply putting him out of his misery.” He looked to Tiron. “Do you want to be Oblivion’s puppet?”
Tiron squeezed his eyes closed, his face a mask of pain. “No.” He took a deep breath and lowered his arms to his sides, offering himself to Grendel. His eyes filled with tears. “Please, make it quick.”
He was accepting his fate, and as much as I wanted to fight otherwise, there was no denying the facts. We had no cure for this infection. No cure aside from maybe killing Oblivion. If we left Tiron alive, even if we told him to run, he knew of our plans. He knew everything. Once Oblivion had his mind, it would have all our secrets. We couldn’t let that happen.
Tiron had to die.
But death didn’t have to be unpleasant. “Wait. I have an idea.” I searched the group for the gancanagh. “Dareth. Does your glamour need two parties to work?”
He looked at me blankly for a moment and then frowned. “Are you asking me to break our deal?”
“I’m giving you an out, just for this occasion. Can you do it, or do you need two targets who are … um … you know.”
“Fucking?” His lips curled in a wry, mocking smile. “No. My glamour is in the target’s mind. You want me ta use it on ‘im?”
I nodded. “Can you … Can you make it pleasant?”
He snorted. “You have no idea, lass.”
His words sent a spike of lust shooting through me. He had a strange power, one that hung around him like an aura, and ever since he’d fed, it had gotten worse.
“What are you talking about?” Fenn asked.
Tiron was silent, waiting. His expression almost serene.
“Dareth will … deal with Tiron.” I cleared my throat. “We should give them some space. Maybe move on a few meters?”
Fenn’s brow cleared as he realized what we were about to do. He nodded quickly. “Grendel, let’s move out.”
The bearded monolith looked like he wanted to argue, but one stern look from Fenn had him backing away. It seemed that even without his memories, the winter king had retained his regal persona and leadership. The men whom he’d befriended looked to him for guidance. He was our only hope of loosening Oblivion’s hold on the minds of the Tuatha.
We began to walk away, leaving Dareth to deal with Tiron. I caught Finn’s eyes briefly, and then his gaze fell to my hand, still linked to the Raven’s. His expression hardened, and he tucked in his chin and turned away.
Was this what it would be like between us from now on? Behind us, low moans rose up into the air. They intensified, sending a ripple of desire over my skin. Raven gripped my hand tighter.
“Well, that is something …” His voice was husky, and my heart was pounding.
I picked up the pace, putting more distance between Dareth and us, desperate to get away from the power that had my breasts swelling and my nipples as hard as pebbles.
Berstuk stirred in my mind briefly but then slipped away.
The men were all feeling the effects. It was etched into their tense postures and their quick strides. Veles looked back at me over his shoulder, his ember eyes a promise to claim me, and the Raven’s thumb was sweeping across the back of my hand, sending tingles up my arm and spurring my pulse. I wanted them. I wanted them both. Together. Oh, gods.
Focus. “We need to check each other out for the taint anyway.”
The reminder had everyone picking up the pace to put more distance between us and the inhibition-melting effects of Dareth’s power.
We broke up into pairs to begin the inspection. Stripping down completely wasn’t an option, not in the freezing elements, but we did the best we could. Peering down the front and back of tunics, checking arms and the backs of calves. I looked over Veles and Raven. My fingers caressing bare skin, pulse thudding harder and faster at the contact.
Veles growled low in his throat as my fingers skimmed across Raven’s collarbones. The Raven’s breath exploded warm and tempting across my temple, and then Veles’s chest was pressed to my back, and I was trapped between them.
Raven’s hands hugged my hips, and Veles’s hands slid under my furs to cup my breasts. Dareth’s power swirled around us, but this was more than that. This was us. This was our want and need.
Berstuk stirred, and his presence surged to the surface of my mind, but he didn’
t speak. Didn’t interrupt the moment as we remained locked in this aching embrace.
“Ahem.”
My eyes snapped open to Finn’s unreadable expression. “Um … hi.”
He kept his gaze on me as if Veles and Raven weren’t even there. “Can you check me, please? I should be fine but just in case.”
Veles released me, and I stepped away from the Raven. “Of course.”
My insides were still quivering, and my blood was still moving too fast through my veins, but I moved closer to Finn and pushed aside his furs. The heat trapped there brushed my palms, and then I was smoothing my hands up his torso. Uncalled for, but I couldn’t help it.
His breath caught, but he didn’t stop me. Instead, he stood frozen while I pushed up on tiptoe. I leaned in so my body touched his and looked down his shirt. His skin was smooth, taut, and unmarred. I wanted to taste it. My hands found their way to his neck and slid to his nape. His pulse beat hard and fast against my fingers. My heart ached.
“Wynter …”
I stepped back onto my heels and took a shuddering breath. “Turn around.”
He did as he was told. I inspected his back. “Clear.”
He faced me once more. “Thank you.”
The heaviness in the air began to dissipate, and the ache at my core settled into a gentle throb.
Finn tore his gaze from my face, stepped back, and walked off toward a waiting Roxy. I turned back to Raven and Veles.
“My, oh my …” The Raven’s words were a rushed exhalation. “That was something, hmmm?”
I squeezed his hand and let go. “It was. It was a man dying.”
The words were more for me than for him—a bucket of cold water to sober my senses. Dareth had killed a man, and I’d asked him to do it.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We joined the others on the road to the autumn keep.
We hadn’t gone far when the crunch of frost and snow snuck up behind us, and a figure fell into step to our right.
“He’s gone,” Dareth said.
I glanced past Raven, surprised by the new silky timbre to his voice. Youthful and—Oh, God. Dareth was beautiful with dark locks that fell in tousled waves onto his forehead, sharp sapphire eyes beneath winged brows, a straight nose with slightly flared nostrils, and a mouth that begged to be kissed.
I was staring.
His mouth curved in a smirk. “Told ya I was something ta look at.” He winked. “Close ya mouth, lass, or you might catch summit.”
I snapped my mouth closed and focused on the road ahead, cheeks burning. He looked the way he did because Tiron was dead. That wasn’t something to be celebrated.
“There!” someone called out. “There it is.”
The narrow path had widened into a road without my even realizing it, and rising out of the morning mist, like a leviathan out of the sea, were spires and towers.
We’d found the autumn city.
Chapter Thirteen
The city below us was wreathed in mist.
“Steam,” the Raven said. “Autumn city is powered by it. Aurelia has a penchant for the mechanical. Cogs and gears are the cornerstones of the city’s construction.”
There were houses and roads and a market. The place was a neat map beneath us, and sitting in the center, on a rise surrounded by gray and brown walls, was the keep itself.
“How are we going to get an audience?” Fenn asked. “We’re nobodies.”
“You’re not a nobody,” Veles said. “You’re the fucking winter king. You and your people may not remember, but I wager Aurelia will.”
Fenn took a shuddering breath. “Well, I suppose this encounter will put to rest any doubts I might have about your story.”
The Raven smirked. “You know the truth. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
We trudged in silence as everyone absorbed this.
“Come on.” I picked up the pace. “The sooner we get there, the closer we are to our goal.”
I passed Finn and Roxy with Raven and Veles at my side. This time I didn’t look his way.
Time was what we needed, but for now, space would do.
* * *
Silent, empty streets greeted us. The market watched us with dead eyes as we crossed the cobbled square. Not even a bird chirped. It reminded me of the village where Rayne had found me. But the scent of death wasn’t pungent in the air here, and the fact I recognized that should have raised panic, but not any longer. This was me. This was who I needed to be.
A little focus and the presence of life pressed in on me. There were fey here, but they weren’t coming out.
“The people are hiding,” the Raven said. “The market is closed. This is not good.”
The head cook at the winter keep had spoken of how winter on the autumn lands had affected crops, and my gut told me the market being closed was a part of that.
A hobbling figure stepped out of a building up ahead and then froze at the sight of us. For a moment, I thought the fey would bolt, but then it continued toward us. As it drew near, I made out that it was a female. Old, wrinkled. Skeletal.
“You won’t find any refuge here,” she said as she drew closer. “We have nothing to offer except ice and snow, and if you think the keep will have you, then you’re sorely mistaken. They shut their gates months ago and left us to die.” Her voice cracked, and she rubbed a hand over her face. There was something clutched in it, a vial with a cork stopper. She caught me staring and snorted. “Mercy, that’s what it is.” She held up the vial, her eyes glistening with a sheen of tears. “Old Jessina gave them mercy, which is more than her high and mighty highness gave us. Abandoned us, she did. Took the able-bodied and the mothers with babes suckling at their breasts. Left the rest. Left us to starve.”
“Queen Aurelia abandoned her people?” Veles shook his head. “I can’t believe that. The woman I know would never turn her back on her people.”
There was a flash of anger in the old woman’s eyes. Her face contorted in rage, but when she opened her mouth, nothing but a low keening moan emerged. She brushed past us, her boots dragging on the ice.
“Go on, get out of here,” she called over her shoulder. “Old Jessina only has enough mercy left for herself.”
“No,” Veles said. “Aurelia wouldn’t do this.”
“Hard times call for desperate measures,” the Raven said. “And we all know what hunger and desperation can do, don’t we, hmmm?”
“The mothers and babes …” Fenn frowned. “She took them and the able-bodied.”
“An army and the next generation?” Dareth suggested. “Babes only need the teat to survive, and this way Aurelia only has to feed the mothers.”
“What about the other children?” Grendel asked the question on my mind.
The low squat building that the woman had stumbled from called to us. The door was slightly ajar, beckoning us to enter.
I took a step toward it.
It was Finn who stopped me with a hand to my elbow. “Don’t.”
I looked up at his face, creased in concern, eyes dark with worry. “I have to see. I have to know.”
“Why?”
The words swam around in my mind but failed to form the sentence that would explain the tumult of emotions inside me. Instead, I shrugged him off and climbed the single step into the building. The smell hit me first—bitter and sweet at the same time. Shadows crawled over everything, making it hard to make out the contents of the room. Shadowy shapes. Furniture? Another step took me farther into the room, and slowly, achingly, my eyes adjusted to the gloom that was broken by the reed-like slants of light lancing into the room from the gaps in the wooden shutters.
Not furniture. There was no furniture in this room.
There were only bodies.
Lined up neatly on the ground.
Laid on blankets, cushioned by thin pillows.
Small bodies.
Children’s bodies.
A door creaked, but the sound was far away becaus
e my gaze was roving over the tiny faces. Pale, lifeless, and tinged blue.
Mercy had found them.
Death had found them.
“It’s for the best,” a soft female voice said. “This way, they can’t starve to death. It was painless.”
The woman stood shivering on the other side of the room. “There wasn’t enough Merciana herb for all of us. The frost killed most of it. But Jessina had enough for the little ones.” She nodded slowly. “They’re in a better place now.” She stumbled as she walked, making it halfway across the room before she crumpled to the ground.
There were no death throes, no twitching or choking, and no moans. But the silence was worse. The silence was my fuel. This vision was the truth that my eyes needed to take in and my mind needed to accept.
This was what it had come to.
This was what Oblivion had brought us to.
The ash and cinders inside me flared to life with fresh heat, and the flames burned a path through my blood.
I turned and walked out into the biting winter air. Blaming Aurelia was the gut instinct of the girl I’d been when I’d climbed into the pit. The woman I’d become knew better. This was survival. This was the hard decisions. A decision made by a queen left with no other choice by a faceless monster.
Oblivion had to die, and I would take pleasure in killing it.
Chapter Fourteen
Spikes jutted out of the ground and climbed six meters high. The spike barrier was followed by a stretch of land that rose to meet the wall behind which the keep lay. The wall itself was silver and bronze—not brick or rock but metal. Huge gears jutted out from slots in the barrier. They turned slowly, powering whatever lay beyond. The air above was tinged dark with smoke that dissipated as it reached the heavens, and the smell of iron and copper filled the air.
There were no guards. No one keeping watch. Not that we could see.
I looked to the Raven. “Do you think you can get over the wall and find someone to let us in? Aurelia will know who you are, right?”
Fate’s Destiny: Heart of Darkness Book 3 Page 7
