Of Blood and Deceit

by Rachel A. Collett

  His mouth opened and closed like a fish. The blood drained from his face. “I—I don’t know.”

  Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll send a detail to search for them.”

  “I am here, Your Majesty.” Gedeon almost glared at the young king, more agitated than I had ever seen him, but when he stopped in front of the gurney whatever frustration had been there melted from his wrinkled face. “Heavens alive.” He lowered to examine the body, but only managed a stoop. “Poor soul. Who did this to him?”

  Oscove and Castiel answered at the same time.

  “The Demon Daughter.”

  “We’re looking into it.” The prince nodded to Gedeon. “Will you see to the care of his brother?”

  “Of course. Of course. Come with me,” the healer said slowly, turning to Oscove.

  “And what of Nolen?” the king asked, halting his departure.

  Gedeon bowed as best he could. “He is dead, Your Majesty. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “But surely your magic can tell us more of how he got hurt.”

  I flinched. My voice rang in my ears. “How he got hurt?” I started then scowled at Castiel. “Why would a Healer know how he got hurt?”

  Castiel cleared his throat, avoiding my glare.

  Gedeon’s eyes flitted to me and then away. “As I’ve told you before, Your Majesty, my gifts only work on those who are alive. I cannot help you.” Again, he looked to me, an apology written in his softened face, confirming my suspicions. Then he blinked. Shock, quickly followed by anger, darkened his features. “What’s that monster doing here?” The blood drained from my face until I realized it was not me the healer glared at, but someone over my shoulder. I followed his line of sight.

  Weylan’s brows ticked high on his forehead and he retreated several steps back. His guard also seemed confused. Gedeon grabbed the front of the prince’s shirt to whisper several sharp, but lowered words. Riaan quickly leaned in to hear.

  Castiel’s reaction was even more odd. His spine stiffened. Although his mouth worked, nothing came out.

  “Arrest the traitor from Eira,” the king said for him. He pinned me with a glare. “Obviously, we have more to discuss.”

  My heart seized, and I fell back a step as several things happened at once.

  Reese charged.

  Weylan spun on his heel and bolted before his absent-minded guard could even register the command.

  Castiel’s hand shot out, the aura of his power caused me to blink against the blinding brightness. Through the blaze I saw Weylan fall forward, but the prince was too far away. His quarry escaped from his magical grasp and disappeared into the castle, followed by Anolynian soldiers.

  The prince swore beneath his breath and called to the nearest guard. “Escort Lady Anna to her quarters. No one is to enter or leave her room except for me.” Without another glance, he pulled his knife and ran toward the castle.

  Hands seized me roughly by the arms. Before I could even think, my magic reacted to the mistreatment, and the guard flew several feet away. He drew his knife, but Gedeon tsked, slapping at the man’s hand.

  “The prince said to escort her, not drag her.”

  The king raised a brow at me. “I’m glad to see your training has already progressed so far, Lady Anna.” Then he smiled and left with his protection surrounding him. His mistress had disappeared in the commotion.

  The guard gestured for me to follow, but I had no intention of doing so. Maybe it was foolish, but magic flowed within my veins, bringing with it a new sense of strength I had never felt. Twisted excitement took control over exhaustion. It fueled me, coaxing me forward.

  Once inside, I waited until we were alone before I acted. Melora’s potion, although not as strong as before, still allowed me to see the guard’s aura, a soft shade of lilac. I reached for it with my senses,

  We need to search the prison.

  The guard flinched, but he did not turn around—did not respond to my magical probe. This time, I stretched, touching his shoulder, and something powerful flowed through me. Wait.

  And he did. His arm flashed out, as if protecting me. His other hand grabbed the hilt of his sword.

  My heart beat erratic and painful. I waited for someone to find us, to capture us, but no one came. Soon I realized that the guard waited for my command. I reached up on my tiptoes to speak low in his ear. “We need to search the prison.” Our closeness worked against my nerves. “Please. The traitor could be there.” We need to find him.

  His only response was a nod. He spun around and guided the way.

  My heart soared, and my head whirled. I felt giddy. Powerful. Castiel was right. Touch did make my magic stronger. Ironic. He would be mad at me if he found out, but this didn’t feel wrong, like when I had tricked Sameen and Reese. Weylan was evil. I had to prove his treachery to the prince and king, and we had to find him before he got to my uncle.

  The whole of Anolyn’s court detail searched for Weylan, but he was long gone by now. No one paid us any attention as we drew near the prison. The guards that blocked the entrance recognized me, not as the dirty inmate that had only been there two weeks from before, but as a guest to Meyrion: Lady Anna, who daily battled their Captain Melia within their personal training yards.

  One held up his hand. “My lady, you should be in your room. The king searches for a convict. It’s not safe.”

  “I know,” I said, edified at his description of Weylan. Convict. I focused on the new guard’s energy. Coming closer. I clasped his arm in urgency. “We believe the man in holding will know more about what’s going on. We need to question him.”

  The guard’s eyes grew large as he considered me, but I had already won. “Very well.” He stood to the side so we could pass. “But be quick.”

  “Of course,” I said with a serious expression. “Wait here. I will be much more effective alone.”

  He nodded.

  I rushed down the stone steps, assaulted by the smell I never thought I’d forget. I covered my nose with my long sleeve. Low light from the torches hindered my vision, but I didn’t need to see to know where to go. After living within this prison for three months, nearly every turn in its mazelike quarters solidified in my memory.

  Rounding a corner, I slowed to a stop. Lucan lay on his back on the cold stone floor within the same space he had previously occupied. His hands were bound above his head, secured to the bars of his cell. His bare feet were also tied. A black aura encompassed him.

  Had his soul always been like that, so dark?

  I cleared my throat, but before I could speak, his eyes flew open.

  “I wondered when you’d show your face.” His voice was dry and low, scratching at my nerves.

  “You expected me?” I asked, feigning confidence. “What would my uncle think of this? Finding you so laid up, unable to do his bidding?” When he didn’t speak, I added, “I come alone. I have questions.”

  He smiled, watching me through steady eyes. “And what can I do for my princess?”

  “You can tell me where Weylan will run.”

  He blinked slowly. “Who?”

  I controlled my rising breath. “You know who I speak of. Captain Weylan Laphel, sixth regiment.”

  “Ah.” Lucan chuckled softly. “Young Captain Laphel. He was a promising lad.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.”

  “You’re a liar,” I said through a clenched jaw.

  “A liar like you?”

  Shock colored my response. “I am not—”

  “I know what you are, Princess Ilianna. I know what you’ve hidden from your uncle. You are a very naughty girl.”

  My mouth opened and closed like a fish.

  His gaze searched mine. “What’s it like to be trapped as you are? To have nowhere to run? To know there’s no escaping him?”

  I raised my chin a fraction higher. “I can escape anytime I want.”

  His laughter shook me
to my core. “Idiot. He’ll find you, and when he does, he’ll beat you until you break to his will.”

  Anger flashed within, but it was nothing to the fear that reigned, the fear that caused me to react in contradiction of better judgment. Reaching through the bars, I grabbed him by the wrist and wrenched hard, digging my nails into his skin. I tried to tap into that energy Castiel had shown me—tried and failed. There were too many warring emotions to concentrate on the act. Heat bloomed in my chest, affecting my voice. I glared into his widening eyes.

  “Where. Is. Weylan?”

  Lucan twisted, his hands suddenly freed from their bindings. He yanked against my grasp, catapulting me forward. Light flashed when my face plowed into the bars, but fear blocked the pain as gore gushed from my nose. His hand snaked behind me, securing me in place.

  He brought his lips to my ear, his voice thick. “Why do you want to know where he is?” Dank breath assaulted.

  Where was the Demon Daughter now?

  Hiding, like she always did. I was cursed. A weak little girl against the strength of Johan’s most valued spy.

  “Do you fear he’ll run back to his king? Tell him where you are?”

  Facial bones grinded against metal. My mouth tasted blood as it ran down my lips to my chin. “Yes,” I answered honestly.

  “I’m so glad you’re awake.” Castiel’s voice sounded above the echo in my ears.

  Lucan’s nervous laugh breathed against my cheek. He released his hold on me slowly.

  The tip of the prince’s blade pressed into the skin at the spy’s throat. Castiel’s arm slid around my middle, pulling me to him. His warmth soothed my jittered nerves.

  Red trickled from the prick of his dagger when he withdrew both it and me from the cell.

  I smeared the blood from my face with the back of my sleeve, then pinched the edge of my nose to block the flow.

  Lucan watched me, clutching his steel cage. “It’s too late, Ilianna.” His voice was calm, but a storm brewed in his words. “If your uncle doesn’t know now, he will soon.”

  Melia and Reese and the guards from the prison doors flanked the prince to the left and the right. Melia pinned me with a look I could not read. Shame colored my face and I had to turn away, but Castiel’s grip didn’t let me get far.

  Quicker than I could process, he tossed his knife to his other hand. He caught Lucan by the collar of his tunic then pulled hard. Lucan’s face smashed into the bars with a rattled clang. The spy cried out, but a second later, the prince spun me around.

  “Secure this spy,” he ordered the others. “I want a guard with him at all times. If he escapes again, it’s your neck. Melia, Reese, you’re with me.”

  “Yes, sir,” all said at once, and they raced to fulfill his command.

  Castiel swept me from the narrow prison faster than my brain could keep up with. The world spun, but before I could react to the dizzying effects, the prison doors opened. My lungs filled with a cool, clean breeze, clearing my muddled thoughts. Moisture pricked my eyes, but I blinked back any emotion.

  I swallowed hard, my voice still sounded nasally. “Castiel—”

  “No.” His words were barely recognizable through the anger that seethed from him. He gave me a sideways glance, his eyes hard, then he grunted. Yanking a white handkerchief from his pocket, he stopped to dab at the mess of blood at my lips and chin. Steady fingers carefully tipped my chin to inspect the damage. “Reese, fetch the healer.”

  Reese ran ahead.

  Again, I tried. “Cas—”

  “Not now,” he snapped. He closed his eyes as if the sound of my voice pained him, then quickly stuffed the handkerchief into my hand. He reclaimed my arm and resumed his path.

  My heart dropped.

  I was an idiot. Castiel must have thought it too.

  What could have been gained from talking to Lucan? Nothing more than I already knew. He had sent a message to my uncle of my whereabouts.

  I needed to leave. To escape. But I had made a deal. Was I a woman of my word? I wasn’t sure.

  Castiel led me back into the castle, his hand tight on my arm. I could have fought him, but I didn’t have the strength. Not now.

  Melia followed, keeping a safe distance until we reached the receiving hall. Commotion echoed within its normally calm walls. The captain raced forward to throw the doors wide into the throne room where King Riaan stood at a table littered with maps and parchments, along with five other officers, the same ones I had seen when I first met the king. They bowed to their prince and narrowed their gaze upon me and the mess that was my face.

  I glared right back.

  “Leave us,” Castiel said sharply.

  They turned to their king, who signaled his approval, then flowed from the room, shutting the doors behind them. Riaan did not look to us, only studied the maps in front of him.

  “A message just arrived,” he said, without waiting for his brother to speak. His hand swept across the maps, sending them to the ground. Melia tsked, but stooped to pick them up. “Leave them,” he ordered, and she stopped. Then the king blinked, finally seeing me. “What on earth happened to your face? For a falcry’s love…”

  I shrugged despite my discomfort, and pain laced the movement. “I’ve had worse.” Although it was true, it felt like a lie with both brothers examining me and my every expression.

  “How ever did you survive without poor Gedeon to patch you up?”

  Castiel cleared his throat, saving me from further embarrassment. “Lucan—”

  “The spy is unimportant. As is Captain Weylan.”

  “How—how can you say that?” I asked, incensed.

  He flicked his fingers as if shooing a fly. “Easily.”

  Castiel flinched, sensing his brother’s serious tone. “Who was this message from?”

  “From overseas. An ambassador from the kingdom of Ardenya.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I don’t believe anyone has. You, Princess?”

  Slowly, I shook my head. Ardenya had never been revealed in any of my studies. My uncle had never mentioned it either. I glanced between both men, not understanding the direction of the conversation, but Melia guessed it almost immediately.

  “The Wraith Queen?” she asked.

  “Those are my thoughts.” The king gripped the edges of the table. He stared out the grand windows “The Ambassador from Ardenya wishes an audience with the king of Anolyn. The letter does not communicate as to when this ambassador will arrive. It could be next week or a month from now, depending on sea conditions.”

  I followed his gaze, past the breathtaking view of his gardens and the workers that attended the fields, to the seas beyond. Anxiety screamed within me. I needed to leave. To flee this cursed continent and its problems.

  “What is it you see, Princess?”

  I snapped out of my thoughts to the sound of the king’s voice. He watched me closely, as did Castiel. Both sets of matching eyes observing more than they should.

  “I—”

  But he didn’t wait for my answer. His head tipped to the side, curious. “Do you know why I asked if you knew what was beyond our kingdom? It’s because the Wraith Queen has overtaken every last continent that we know of, outside of our own. The countries we once traded with—had any relationship with—we haven’t been able to reach with any correspondence in over a decade. Why do you think we harvest so much of our produce here? Because it’s no longer safe to send our sailors out. They don’t return.”

  My mouth worked, but I didn’t have any response to this new information.

  Castiel continued for his brother. “When we do receive communication, it’s from another kingdom seeking help from a tyrannical conqueror.”

  “This message does not convey that.” Riaan stabbed a finger at a piece of parchment on the table.

  “But if it is another kingdom seeking help, can we offer them that assistance?” Melia asked.

  “With what? Soldiers? Ships? We barely have
enough to defend against Johan.”

  But we were not at war. “My uncle…” My voice trailed beneath the sharp eyes of the King.

  “Just assume everything your darling uncle ever told you was a lie.” He returned to his captain’s question. “And against the Wraith Queen, our best line of defense is here.”

  “Agreed,” Castiel said.

  “If it’s the Wraith Queen, this peace with the kingdom of Eira couldn’t come sooner. It’s imperative we show a united front.”

  Castiel combed his fingers through thick hair. “Then what’s the next step?”

  “We message King Johan.”

  Panic set in, and my voice came out in a gasp. “What?”

  Melia stepped forward, standing close to me. “But Riaan, you’ve seen what he’s done to her—”

  I held out my hand to stop her. “No, Melia.”

  Her eyes flashed to mine. “If you won’t defend yourself, then I will.”

  “Except there’s nothing that can be done about it,” the king said, interrupting. He gave her a look.

  Melia’s mouth clamped shut and she turned away.

  Riaan scanned me. “I’m sorry, Ilianna.”

  I flinched when actual compassion shone in his eyes. I could handle his abrasive nature, his mistrusting, flippant personality, but this…

  He continued. “But for the survival of all, we’ll have to come together despite all bad history between our kingdoms. The last time the Wraith Queen battled against us, thousands died upon the swords of her demon army. We are strong, but we will need every trained man and woman available.”

  I spoke against a suddenly dry throat. “How much time do I have?”

  “Before I send word to your uncle?”

  I nodded.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s already done, and the sooner, the better.”

  “How?” Castiel asked.

  “A missive sent by falcry to our borders. It will then be taken the remaining way by messenger.”

  My breath whooshed from my lungs. Panic set in and my heart thundered in my chest. The blood drained painfully from my face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Castiel asked.

  Riaan’s tipped smile sent a flash of anger through my chest. “You act so surprised. You yourself have kept some important information from me recently. Can you really expect me to share all confidences, considering your new and rather peculiar behavior?”