by C. J. Anaya
I thought the Saytr King might recognize me and treat me as his eventual leader. I wasn’t trying to be big-headed about it, but Kheelan had spent quite a bit of time helping me remember the political and social order of my world, and according to Kheelan, no one ranked higher in the Unseelie Court than me, my father, and my uncle.
So wouldn’t the Saytr King recognize me?
“Not many have been allowed to look upon you, Crysta. It isn’t safe for a Princess to be paraded about the realm, and Roderick rarely allowed you to deal in matters of Fae during official gatherings.”
In other words, not many Fae had ever seen my face, and even fewer knew about the attack on my life. My father thought Roderick had kept it quiet to prevent other more volatile races to sense weakness and attempt a coup on the Unseelie Court. Not every race considered the Tuadhe d’Anu bloodline fit to rule, which made identifying myself outside of the safety of my own palace walls extremely dangerous.
We also had no idea who Jareth and King Moridan were working with. We had to discover if the Saytr King was friend or foe first, but my identity could not be discovered in the process.
They didn’t need to tell me twice. One assassination attempt on my life was enough. I wasn’t interested in being attacked again. But just to be certain, my father glamoured all of us. We would pose as ambassadors for our cause and pretend we weren’t royal at all.
I startled as the drawbridge lowered and we were given access to the outer courtyard. As we crossed the bridge and exited on the other side, I felt a weird tingle zing up my spine.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Wards,” Kheelan stated. “There are some Fae who are not allowed within the Saytr King’s inner sanctum. The ward is meant to keep those mindless creatures out.”
“Mindless?” I said and shivered.
“Just know this, Crysta, not every faerie in this realm is interested in the greater good. We have our criminals, psychopaths, and evil doers just like any other realm.”
Well, comforting that was not.
As we traversed the cobblestoned courtyard, guards fell in from behind and in front of us. All of them Saytrs. Their hoofed feet created crisp, clapping sounds upon the stone floor. I stared at the muscled backs of a few of the guards. From the waist down they were hairy as all get out. Their muscled legs looked powerful enough to kick a hole through someone’s chest. From the waist up there was zero hair, but their skin didn’t look pale like mine. It was a fiery red color. Add the hairy tail that ended in a lethal looking black spike and the thick, black horns that curled backward in a high arc from the front of their foreheads, and I was hard-pressed not to label them all demons and run screaming in the other direction.
Not that I knew what an actual demon looked like.
I think.
Either way, I had a hard time believing this race of Fae was going to be interested in joining our cause. I thought they’d feel more inclined to skewer us and eat us for dinner. I allowed my eyes to drift to the side and noticed several different species of Fae mingling within the grounds, most of them openly gawking at us or giving us evil glares. Creatures with bat-like wings, sharp teeth and skeletal features were perched along another wall that allowed us access to the inner courtyard where the Keep stood tall and imposing.
Gargoyles?
Were Gargoyles faeries?
We followed the guards through another gate with two towers on either side. I noticed slits in the twisting vines and felt a little unnerved at the sight of more Saytrs glaring at us with arrows drawn.
Arrows? Seriously? Wouldn’t their magic be more effective than physical weapons?
There was an uneasy air of distrust among the scattering crowd and the many soldiers stationed on top of the walls. Were we not on good terms with the Saytr King?
The thought made me a little sick to my stomach. Super glad we wore disguises. Then again, we were here to enlist the king in our cause. I imagined an attack on the Seelie King wasn’t something anyone would feel very settled about.
My thoughts returned to the Yanrath’s warning about Kheelan and my father keeping things from me, but I was ready to know about all the ugly. Forewarned was forearmed, right? Just what had been happening in the Fae realm while I was in hiding for all these weeks? After our visit to this place, I planned on cornering Kheelan and getting a very long, very thorough, explanation out of him.
As we entered the Keep, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. We were brought into a circular room that looked like an elaborate banquet hall. Many Fae of different races sat at tables eating things that weren’t even recognizable to me.
Mystery meat.
I shuddered at the thought.
My gaze flew to the center of the room where a stone dais held two elaborate thrones made of the same blackened gnarled vines. The Saytr King quite literally took my breath away.
He was by far the biggest Saytr in the room. The biggest anything in the room. His face sported a thick red beard, a wide nose, and large black eyes framed by shaggy red brows. His black horns were large and spiraled as they swept back over his head and tapered to points past his shoulder blades. His forehead and cheeks were free of hair just like his muscled chest. His skin tone was cream-colored. I had no idea why this dude’s skin wasn’t red like the rest of his race, but he still looked like the very devil to me. A willowy looking woman with green skin and golden eyes took me in with interest. She sat beside the Saytr king, wearing a thin gown woven from green leaves. Her hair absolutely fascinated me. It was a mass of flowering branches, formed into a loose braid that reached past her waist.
Good luck brushing out that mane of vegetation, girlfriend.
She gave me a small smirk as if she knew exactly what I’d been thinking. It made me like her just a little. Then I took in other aspects of her skin that raised warning flags. Red, seeping sores dotted her arms and chest with a few making an appearance on her neck and cheeks.
She had griesha and she was a royal.
A sick feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach.
“Your highness,” said one of the guards standing next to us. “The visitors are unarmed and request an audience.”
The king’s black eyes took us in as a whole and sharpened when they landed on me.
“It’s true then,” he said in a shocked voice. His voice was low and deep, sending a spike of fear through my system.
The minute the words left his lips the entire assembly quieted down. No more reveling amongst his subjects could be heard. I chanced a glance over my shoulder and took in the silent stares of everyone assembled. Some of those stares held surprise.
The king stood on his blackened hooves, and the muscles and sinews of his legs bunched and flexed as he took one step forward. Then he paused, but never took his eyes off me.
“I want everyone out,” he said in a low voice.
The creatures at the table didn’t need to be told twice. I guess he wasn’t someone you ignored or messed with. The Saytr King turned to say something to one of the guards at his side, who quickly took off, a sense of urgency in his wake.
Curious.
Within a few moments the only beings left in the room with us were two guards standing on either side of our party, the king, and his queen.
Silence met us for a few moments as he continued to stare. I found it interesting that Kheelan and my father remained quiet, waiting for the king to lead the conversation.
“Amazing,” he ground out.
“My dear,” said the woman next to him. She laid a frail, green hand on his arm. I watched tension drain from his shoulders at her touch, but his stance remained hyper-alert. I also saw a brief flash of pain flit a cross his features as he took in the sores on her body. He was losing her and he knew it.
The moment she touched him, a hollow feeling flickered within the pit of my stomach. An aching sense of loss, or maybe it was a sense of disconnect? It made my core hurt, causing my magic to reach forward in search of somethin
g. A fierce need gripped me, a feeling of something incomplete. I finally realized it wasn’t coming from me, it was coming from the king and his woman.
And it hurt like hell.
“You need to stop that,” I said, gritting my teeth in pain.
“What did you say?” The king’s voice turned lethal, and Kheelan and my father gave me warning looks, but I couldn’t concentrate due to the overwhelming sense of loss I felt.
“This pain you two feel. It’s absolutely unbearable. Please stop it at once.”
The king stepped off the dais and glared at me. The minute their physical contact ended the pain went away. I expelled a heavy breath.
“Thank you.”
He eyed me in confusion and turned to look at his wife who appeared just as perplexed as he did.
Kheelan jumped right into the awkwardness of the moment and took control.
“King Vargis, we apologize for this unexpected visit, but we come on a matter most urgent—”
“I’ll say.” The king stepped forward, motioning his guards, who grabbed hold of Kheelan and my father. They let out grunts of dismay as the king quickly approached and gripped my chin in his hand. I noticed for the first time that his fingernails were more like sharp talons.
“I had heard the rumors of her return, but the whole fated mate bit made the rumors seem impossible. How can this be, Mira? She was assassinated along with her father eighteen years ago, and yet here she stands, at his side, along with a prince of the Seelie Court.”
Assassinated eighteen years ago?
What. The. Hell?
And what was a fated mate?
“You’re mistaken,” my father said.
“Don’t, Rodri,” the king hissed. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you?”
“I used a glamour to disguise us,” my father said. “I didn’t want to risk revealing our identities too soon. The glamour should have worked here.”
“I don’t allow such magic within my Keep,” the king grunted. “I’ve had powerful spells cast upon my sense of sight to prevent such subterfuge from taking place. You’re as visible to me as she is,” he said, nodding to me and then finally releasing my chin.
My father expelled a tired breath and nodded in defeat.
“Then I suppose we have quite a bit of explaining to do.” He held himself very still within the guard’s grip. “Considering the current state of your queen, I believe you’re going to want to hear us out. I’ve never heard of griesha affecting the nobles, but it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, which means time is running out.”
The Saytr King grunted.
“I had heard over the last several weeks that there was a noble claiming to have a solution to this magical plague that has already taken the lives of several of our people.” He turned to look at my father. “There was no mention of that person being the Unseelie King come back from the dead.”
My father swallowed hard as I gave him a questioning look. It hit me that my lack of memory had been mighty convenient for Kheelan and my father. I quite literally believed anything they told me since I couldn’t remember anything about my past.
And what if that Yanrath had been right? What if everything they’d told me was a lie? Kheelan tried to reach for me but the guard held him back. I remained as still as stone while the king grabbed for my chin again and turned my head from side to side to examine me.
He stepped back and nodded to his guards to release Kheelan and my father.
“She is the very image of Insley,” he said.
“What do you mean, I was assassinated eighteen years ago?” I asked, steering the conversation in a different direction.
“Crysta,” Kheelan warned.
The king blinked in surprise.
“You haven’t told her of her history? Where have you been hiding her all these years? And why? Your brother, King Roderick, was sick with grief at your loss.”
“I’ll bet he was,” my father snarled.
I stared at my father in disbelief, shocked that he was confirming the king’s claim of my supposed death and shocked at the level of malice in his voice. He hated my uncle for having a hand in my mother’s death, but there was more to it than that. I hadn’t been living with Uncle Roderick all these years, and I hadn’t been in hiding for a few weeks. Apparently, I had been in hiding all my life. Where? Why? And were we now on the run because Jareth had attacked me—or were we on the run for other reasons?
The Saytr’s version of events and everything my father and Kheelan had told me completely contradicted one another.
“None of this matters at the moment,” Kheelan said. “We can tell you about her past and why we hid her, but we’re here on more urgent business. We believe we know the cause of this magical plague claiming so many lives.”
“Continue,” the king prodded. “I will hear your theories and then I want your disappearance explained.”
My father nodded and began his speech.
“I think you know how imbalanced King Moridan has become over the years. He never recovered from the death of his wife, and he blamed members of the Unseelie Court for conspiring to kill her.”
The Saytr King’s bushy eyebrows narrowed.
“I wasn’t aware of his accusations against our Court. Why was this never brought up during one of the delegations?”
“Because he didn’t have any proof, and he was accusing my brother of killing her. Those are some heavy accusations by anyone’s standard, but to accuse a Fae royal of the Tuadhe d’Anu bloodline is as good as starting a war. He merely sent messages to my brother and me seeking satisfaction, demanding that Roderick turn himself over to the Seelie Court to be tried for his crimes.”
“What does this have to do with a magical plague attacking our people?” The Saytr King’s impatience was palpable.
“When he couldn’t prove that Roderick had a hand in my mother’s murder, he began dabbling in the Dark Arts, searching for a way to bring the truth to light and…bring my mother back from the dead,” Kheelan said.
The Saytr King’s angry growl reverberated within the hall.
My head swiveled to meet Kheelan’s eyes. This information was all new to me. All I’d ever been told was that King Moridan was an evil king who didn’t want Kheelan to take the throne.
Now we were dealing with an unhinged royal dabbling in Dark Arts because he’d lost his wife?
“The Dark Arts. Has he gone mad? No one is capable of dealing in Dark Magic without it effecting all of Faerie and its inhabitants.” He stomped his hoof into the stone floor, creating a large crack that spidered out a few inches. I noticed it wasn’t the only crack there.
This king had anger issues.
“My father must be stopped, King Vargis. Whatever spells he’s been casting, whatever enchantments he has conjured, the magic in our realm is slowly being tainted. If he continues unchecked, I fear we will all weaken and die.”
King Vargis studied Kheelan with a keen eye.
“You do realize what must be in play for someone to take over your father’s rule.”
“I do,” Kheelan said.
“Well, I don’t,” I said. My voice rang sharp. I ignored Kheelan’s pleading look and kept my eyes glued to King Vargis. “It’s clear to me that I’ve been left in the dark for most of my life, so I’d appreciate a brief lesson on protocol, if you don’t mind.”
King Vargis’ eyes held a hint of respect as he nodded.
“Of course, Your Highness. Forget for a moment the massive civil war that will tear our realm apart as we fight against the Seelie Court. Let’s say we actually achieve this suicidal mission, and rid ourselves of King Moridan. Then what? Power in the Unseelie and Seelie Courts is rarely transferred from one royal to the next. Our immortality gives us the longevity needed to keep the Courts’ reign consistent. King Moridan can only be deposed if the next heir in line marries, and the marriage must be blessed by Danu, the Goddess of our realm. Once married, that heir must be given King Mo
ridan’s core magic…by the king himself. King Moridan has to transfer that power to the heir willingly. If he is killed before the transfer, that power he holds and the centuries of knowledge he has gleaned will be lost to the Seelie Court and Kheelan’s race will die. The Seelie Court will still exist, but his bloodline will no longer be ruling it.” King Vargis met Kheelan’s eyes and he shook his head. “Do you actually foresee your father willingly giving Prince Jareth that power if the king’s mind has been tainted by the Dark Arts he uses?”
“Jareth is no longer the heir, Highness. I am,” Kheelan said.
The king’s bushy eyebrows shot to the roof of his hairline, nearly colliding with his massive horns in the process.
“And Crysta has agreed to marry me. Something that should happen sooner rather than later.”
King Vargis swiveled his eyes between the two of us in consternation before shaking his large head.
“No,” he said.
“Pardon?” Kheelan asked.
“Crystiana is a Winter faerie and the rightful heir of our Court. The only heir left, Prince. I don’t believe for one moment that Jareth relinquished his responsibilities as heir to the Seelie Court, but if he did, and you truly are the next heir, you cannot marry her. The Seelie Court will need a strong monarch with a woman at his side who can share elemental magic. You will never be able to share in each other’s power. Your union would be viewed as a weakness.”
“Nonsense,” my father said. “Plenty of kings have had relationships with women holding different elemental magics. My brother is the product of such a union.”
“Your brother’s mother was a concubine, a consort, Rodri. Not the first wife of the ruler of the Unseelie Court. Danu will never bless this marriage, and the subjects of the Unseelie Court will not be willing to hand Crystiana over to the Seelie Court. King Roderick has never married. He’s never produced an heir, though he has been pressured for years now to fulfill his duty. She is all we have to secure our future. If there is no heir, the rule of the Unseelie Court will be given to another bloodline. All of the races within the Unseelie Court will be vying for the right. The infighting that will cause may open us up to yet another civil war. I agree that King Moridan must be prevented from using Dark Magic, but I’ll not agree to anything more than that for now. You haven’t thought this through.”
