“Any land Theia possesses, the curse recognizes as her ancestral land,” Cyris said. “And I’m flung from it, which is why we have to act now.”
“Why are you telling us this?” I asked. It aligned with what we knew, but if it was true, what could be done?
Cyris was thoughtful. “The first Demonic Wars were a cover for what the Wraith Queen truly desired. Her offspring.”
I balked. “You’re saying there was a child of hers here?”
He nodded. “A boy, but Theia won’t take over boys. She kills them and restarts the process.”
Castiel shook his head. “Why not just take over the body of another child?”
Melora answered. “She could, but her powers only increase if she takes on as host of her offspring, and it can only be the oldest living of the current host.”
“First-born rights.” Cyris’s lips twisted. “She’ll change out bodies after twenty years or so. When she abandons them, they live as her servants—a shell of what they once were. We call them pryors.”
I glanced over to Castiel next to me. His face was pinched in what I could only guess was the same frustration that coursed through me. “And what happened to the boy?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.
Melora’s response was devoid of any expression. “Cyris helped me hide the father and the son, but we failed in saving him. The Wraith Queen found and killed them both.
I swallowed. “How does Theia keep getting these men to… to…”
“Copulate with her?” Cyris smiled, the fire glowing in his eyes. “In every kingdom she takes over, she keeps human volunteers.”
“She tortures them?” the prince asked.
“No. She makes them wealthy beyond their dreams, treats them like royalty. They become her spies and deliver the victims she needs.”
Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “This ambassador from Ardenya? Are you saying the ambassador is a spy coming for her next… donor?”
Cyris hummed. “No.”
“Then what?” he snapped.
The wraith stared into the flames. “The child is already here.”
I pulled my hands down my face. If the child was already here, then they must have an idea of where. We would find her, bring her to the safety of Meyrion, guard her night and day until the Wraith Queen came to claim her, and then we would kill the menace. “Where is she?”
From the line of trees, a snap caught my attention, like a twig breaking. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I scanned the forest. A pair of glowing embers burned from the shadows, and my breath nearly stopped. I reached out, grasping Castiel’s leg.
“What is it?” His hand closed over mine. Concern swam in his eyes.
My voice came out half-strangled. “Something watches us. In the forest. Red eyes.”
The prince jolted from his seat and pulled a knife from his boot.
Melora tsked. “Stay where you are, Prince. You can’t see them. Not like Ilianna can.”
A second pair of eyes lit the space next to the first. “There are two now.”
The seer smirked, picking up a long stick from the ground. She examined the tip of it. “There are many more than that; those are just the ones brave enough to come closer.”
Frustration seared when Castiel looked again. “I don’t see anything.”
I turned to Melora. “Why can I see them, and why am I just seeing them now? Why not every time I entered the forest with my men, or when I came from Eira to Anolyn?”
She threw her stick into the fire. “Two likely reasons. I’m guessing you’ve always been able to see them but didn’t search very hard. They would have stayed away, like they do now. And also, my potion has permanent effects. If it opened your eyes, like it opened Castiel to auras, you will always be able to see them now.”
I glared at the prince, but he threw up his hands in defeat. “I didn’t know.”
“You were young when you first took the potion, my prince. I don’t normally tell my students such details. As for the demons, there is nothing to do. Best ignore them, Princess.”
“But what if they attack?” I asked.
She sighed. “I told you they won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because they fear someone more cursed than they,” Cyris interjected, frostily. “They fear the offspring of the Wraith Queen.”
I flinched when his gaze and then Melora’s fell to me. Castiel glanced between the two conspirators before gaping at me in both disbelief and shock. The space went silent.
Heat flared to my neck and face. The muscles in my jaw tensed. I leaned in, glaring at the wraith. “Liar.”
“What reasons would I have to lie?”
“You’re a wraith. Lying is second nature to you.”
He flicked his fingers as if shooing away a pest. “You speak of demons. I’m not a demon. I’m probably not even a wraith.”
My jaw clenched. “Go to hell.”
He opened his arms wide. “Already there, darling.”
“I—” The words caught in my throat. My world slowed. I turned to Castiel, but he only stared, the blood drained from his handsome face. Did he believe the accusation? Truly, it was some kind of sick joke What was the wraith’s object in casting such blame upon me? My attention snapped to Cyris. “I’m not this—spawn of the Wraith Queen. I’m the child of a mistress. A commoner.”
He shook his head sadly. “You’re the daughter of a powerful magician and an evil sorcerer—one more powerful than the world has ever seen.”
My chest tightened, my heart racing erratically. I searched the wraith’s eyes, but there was no deceit in them, only determination to force his truth upon me. Anger flared. My voice shook when I spoke.
“Then why am I still alive?” I lunged toward the prince and yanked his knife from his boot, but Castiel’s hand caught my wrist before I could plunge the blade into my heart. I slapped my free hand on his restraining arm. Power flew through our touch, sending him cascading from me. The knife fell to the ground several paces away and I scrabbled to take it up, but the moment it was in my hands again, arms wrapped around me, securing me to them.
The wraith’s frantic pleas raked through me. “No, Princess.” Cyris’s skin was ice cold, a deadly warning that he was far from human. I shuddered in his iron grasp. “Please, return the knife to your prince.”
Melora watched me from across the flames. She hadn’t so much as flinched. Castiel was back on his feet, unharmed. Deftly, he removed the weapon from my grasp.
My skin crawled to the wraith’s touch as a guttural moan bubbled from my lips. “I refuse to be the host of that… that creature,” I hissed through my teeth.
His breath rasped against my ears. “Then keep living—or she’ll spawn again. She’ll find another victim, take one from another long list of volunteers and create another child. I’ll have to begin the hunt all over again. By the time I find them, it could be too late.”
“Let go of me,” I raged, but Cyris’s hold only tightened.
“Release her, or I’ll kill you myself,” Castiel said, his voice close.
With a jerk, the wraith let go, suddenly yards away. I fell forward, barely catching myself from landing face-first into the dirt. I pushed upward, then leapt to my feet. The others were already there to meet me. They surrounded me. I spun a circle as anxiety welled within.
Melora raised her hands as if in defeat. “Princess, you need to calm down. To listen. We don’t know how she tricked your father, but when she killed her son, she was forced from this continent. Toma followed her.”
“To assassinate her.” But even as I said it, I heard the lie in my words. The lie my uncle had told me.
“No,” Melora said. “He thought himself in love. They had a child. You. Lucan’s memory confirms our suspicions. It was the assassin and a woman servant of the queen who brought you back. I don’t know what became of your father, but I know you are the only one who can defeat the Wraith Queen.”
I laughed. It was a pathetic, hysteri
cal sound that grated on my nerves. “How can anyone fight her? You said so yourself: she’s powerful. Too powerful.”
“Except when she creates a child.” Cyris watched me, reading my every thought and expression. His eyes delved into mine. “Theia willingly weakens herself every time she procreates. Her magic splits. The curse splits. Both go to her child. It went to you.”
I shook my head and swallowed hard, trying to ignore Castiel’s eyes that watched me so closely. I couldn’t look at him. How could I ever face him again? Movement caught my attention. Melia stood outside the inn door, gripping the frame, her expression unreadable.
“You see,” Melora said, taking a step closer. “You are Theia’s only weakness. If you live, she is weakened. If you live, we can defeat her.”
“The others couldn’t defend against her infiltration,” I said, my mouth dry.
Cyris nodded, his voice almost tender. “But you… you have been groomed for this, and yet you are unaware of her effects. Your uncle has prepared you for this very thing, and you fight. This is unheard of. As young as puberty, the Wraith Queen begins infiltration, preparing her host children. By the time she comes, they long for her to take over.”
“How do you know—”
“Because I’ve seen it,” he yelled.
Melora placed a calming hand on Cyris’s arm. “Part of the reason we failed to protect the boy was because he fought our help. He wanted her to find him. We only prolonged their reunion. But you’re different.”
I glanced between them. “How?”
“Does she speak to you?” Melora asked.
The muscles between my brows creased. “No.”
“Has she come to you in your dreams?”
“Of course not,” I snapped.
“Then you’re not under her influence. And you’re a magician. The very first magician she’s ever spawned.”
“Your uncle—” the wraith began, but I cut him off, shocked by my own hostility.
“Don’t speak to me of my uncle,” I hissed. “Why would you want to help me?”
Cyris hesitated before answering. “This Wraith Queen killed my wife and children, but it took their loss for me to see what my kingdom had become. She won’t stop taking life. Enslaving it. She’ll destroy our very world. You’re Theia’s lineage, and the curse will continue through you if you don’t stop it. We must align.”
I raised my hand, waving away his words. My legs shook, but I pushed them forward, not seeing as I hobbled to the trees.
“Let her go,” Melora said behind me to Castiel.
Castiel.
A sob leapt to my throat. It took all I had to suppress releasing the dam that nearly drowned me. I shook my head and the action made my head spin. I couldn’t be the Wraith Queen’s daughter, and yet I couldn’t sense the lie of Cyris’s words. How did I not know? All these years? My mother was supposed to be a nobody. A peasant woman. A whore.
No, she was worse than that. A soul-sucking, child-infesting… there were no words to describe the thing that bore me. My life, every aspect of it from conception to near adulthood, had been a fabrication. A hoax. How had my father come to be part of it all? And why him?
“We don’t know if it’s true,” Castiel said behind me, but his voice held no conviction.
I almost laughed. No. The prince knew it was true just as I did. I searched for the red eyes within the trees that so intently watched us before. They had disappeared. Chased away by my closeness. I tipped my head to the stars, but they were covered by thick, dark clouds.
I turned to the group, not meeting their gaze. They had kept close behind me, most likely afraid I would try to harm myself, again. “The ambassador?”
Melora answered. “A spy, of course. Probably the one that delivered you to Eira. When do you come of age?”
I stared at her blankly, but Castiel answered for me. “In two months.”
The seer nodded. “More than likely, Theia is worried about her investment and is sending someone to check in.”
“How much does my uncle know?” I asked, my voice strange and foreign to my ears.
“I don’t know. It’s interesting how he’s… raised you. He knows something, but whatever it is, he’s keeping it close to his chest.”
Of course he was. “Then, what do we do?”
A smile lit the corners of her mouth. “We fight.”
Arriving Home
The remaining journey was long and dreadfully uncomfortable. The innkeeper found me my own horse. The wraith became my riding companion. Suddenly, the prince trusted him enough with my safety, stating he wanted Cyris to be available to answer any questions I may have, and to protect me. Not that I needed protection. Apparently, I was terrifying enough on my own to keep any fabled spirits at bay.
My heart twisted painfully, my emotions too close to the surface. Since when did I become such a delicate female? But I wished Castiel hadn’t heard the conversation with Melora and Cyris. He had avoided me since, barely meeting my gaze each time he walked the line of soldiers. If I were being honest with myself, I would admit that he needed to know. My immediate response to Cyris’s news had been rash, but I still hadn’t ruled out death. I couldn’t possibly affect the Wraith Queen—my mother—as much as they hoped.
My mother.
A sigh blew through my stiff lips as I closed my eyes to the panic rising in my chest. How could I be the daughter to that… thing? The very person responsible for the most violent and fearsome war Eira had ever faced. My mother.
I cringed. I was happier thinking the woman that bore me was a lowly commoner, a mistress to the inconstant prince.
It was late morning when our company came in view of Anolyn’s castle. The unhindered sun beat a beautiful glow on the glorious, grayed fortress. A sense of peace folded over me as my gaze longingly traced its arches and spires.
That peace quickly faded. Countless soldiers and staff dotted the landscape, erecting great canvas tents and building fire pits. Streamers and flowers hung from poles and wrapped tables. A distant sound of music floated to us, but was soon drowned out by the thundering of hooves as a unit of armed soldiers stormed across the green fields straight toward us. Castiel signaled for all to stop, and the company obeyed.
I peered behind and nearly laughed. We were a bedraggled sight.
Mikael led the coming squad, his gaze lethal as he scanned our group. My hand tingled where his knife had cut into flesh. He didn’t know I had recognized him that night, but he would find out soon enough.
“Seize the assassin from Eira,” Mikael said.
Immediately, a ring of soldiers converged, their weapons circling the spy as he sat upon his horse, but Cyris didn’t flinch.
“He’s not a traitor,” I said, kicking away the sword of one. The soldier glared.
Castiel’s voice shouted over the sudden commotion. “Stand down.”
“Take him,” Mikael commanded, ignoring the prince, “and search the others, beginning with her.” He pointed to me.
I gave a cheerful grin. I’d let the traitor have his fun, for now.
Castiel’s face grew a violent shade of red. “No one will touch her, Captain, if you value your life. What’s the meaning of this?”
Mikael’s head lifted a fraction. “A mandatory search, sir. Orders of the king. All personnel entering must show identity and be examined. Soldiers belonging to our majesty’s army must promptly report to their commanding officers. All others will be relieved of their weapons. You are the only exception.”
“I will see him at once. Princess Ilianna—” Without looking back, he motioned for me to accompany him.
Mikael held out a hand. “His Majesty is not expecting the princess and she must therefore await his—”
“Enough,” Castiel barked.
“Sir, the—”
“Captain!” Hoof beats drew our attention. The king in all his regal glory, raced toward our company, his assassin and four guards in tow. Riaan wore all black leathers, a magnifice
nt sword strapped to his side. He raised a hand to silence his ambitious guard. “That’ll be enough.” He circled Melia, examining her quickly. The nod she gave him was barely perceptible, but it was enough to extinguish some of the angst in the king’s expression.
Siana neared, again wearing the clothes of a soldier.
“What happened to your fancy gowns?” I asked in a low voice.
One corner of her lips quirked upward, but she didn’t answer. She moved toward her leader.
Riaan’s horse circled his brother. Castiel’s borrowed steed danced uncomfortably, but he skillfully controlled the beast. “I’m getting a bit tired of this, Brother.”
“The captain’s only doing his duty. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it in time and I’d have to hang you for failure to follow orders.”
The prince rolled his eyes. Castiel’s larger frame shadowed the king’s, but that didn’t make Riaan any less threatening.
The king peered over Castiel’s shoulder to me, the sun absorbed by his dark, freshly cut hair. The muscles between his brows raised as he regarded me. “Princess Ilianna, what a relief to see you alive and uninjured.” He registered the cut on my hand. “Relatively uninjured. You must be exhausted and famished.”
His gaze traveled to Cyris, although it was Lucan he saw. “I suspect there must be a reason why this snake is not in shackles, Brother?”
Castiel huffed. “There is, but it cannot be discussed here.”
“Then, come” He directed his horse toward Meyrion. “Captain Melia, bring your mother,” he called over his shoulder.
I spurred my horse, falling into place, the others not far behind. Two fresh soldiers broke from the group and flanked the wraith to the left and right, both with weapons trained on him, but Cyris didn’t seem worried.
As we neared the commotion that built in the courtyard, attendants stopped in their work to bow.
Riaan smiled to each one. “Unfortunately, I can only offer you food, Princess. As you can see, rest is only for the dead.” He examined me from the side. “Ketrina arrived this morning, after disappearing a few days back. Do you know anything of this?”
Of Blood and Deceit Page 25
