Wings of Fate: (Kingdoms of Faerie Book 1)

by Skye Horn

  Elizabeth bowed her head low and then disappeared from the room, leaving Thea stunned. She appreciated the fact that the humans would fight with her, but she didn’t know if that would be enough. Did a few humans and one untrained Faerie stand any chance against a powerful king and his evil army of followers? Her logic told her the probabilities that she did not wish to hear, so she focused her attention on the wardrobe instead. However, as she opened it up, a new sense of dread settled over her on seeing what was inside.

  “Goddess above—how in hell am I supposed to fight in a damn dress?”

  Chapter 20

  When a centaur knocked on her bedroom door to inform her that King Malachi invited her to dine with him, Thea was wearing her muddy leather clothing once more. The centaur seemed surprised by her appearance, but said nothing as he stepped aside for her to pass. She’d stared at the dresses in the wardrobe for nearly an hour trying to picture herself defending anyone while wearing one of them. This led to the decision to put her dirty clothes back on. She’d done her best to scrape off the dried blood and mud from them, then tamed her unruly hair into a neat bun on top of her head. The rest of her time had been spent in meditation, trying to reach Ainé, but by the time the knock sounded on her door she’d all but given up on the Goddess’ help.

  The centaur led her to a set of double doors, where Thea thanked him and received a stomp of a hoof in response. He stormed off, seeming insulted by her gratitude, and Thea entered the dining hall with a look of bewilderment on her face. Several human servants set the table inside with a luxurious amount of food. The last time Thea had seen anything close to that amount of food had been her Thanksgiving with her adoptive parents. Her mother had cooked two turkeys, because she couldn’t decide which recipe to use, and they’d had enough food for the entire neighborhood. Her heart ached at the thought of her mother and what she would have given to speak with her just one more time before her plan to come to Ireland would possibly get her killed. Instead, she faced her biological father, who sat at the end of the table looking at her with disappointment.

  “The dresses didn’t fit you?” he asked. Amara sat on his left with her hands folded neatly in her lap. She wore a purple gown that matched the newly forming bruises on her face; it made her look far younger.

  “I’m more comfortable in my own clothing, thank you.” Thea knew the king felt the forcefulness of her speech, but she didn’t care. She stood in the doorway, examining each exit carefully while she waited for him to tell her what he wanted. She figured this was not just a family dinner to make up for all the family dinners she’d missed.

  There were only two doors in this hall. One being the set of double doors she’d come in through, and the other, she assumed led to the kitchens, because that was where the servants were bringing food from.

  “Come, sit at my right,” King Malachi finally said, motioning to the seat on the other side of him. “We have much to discuss. But first, you must be starving.”

  Thea walked to the seat he’d indicated and sat, placing a napkin across her lap as the servants piled food onto all three of their plates. Each of the humans was malnourished, but they didn’t look at the table with envy or hunger. They merely placed the food down as quickly as possible before returning to the kitchens. King Malachi never thanked them or even acknowledged their presence, but Thea continuously did, which seemed to make them all even more nervous.

  “So, it’s true that humans raised you?” Thea had wondered what the first topic of their dinner conversation would be, but this was not what she’d expected. She looked up at King Malachi—her father, she reminded herself. His nose had scrunched up a little as he spoke.

  “Yes, I had two wonderful, loving, human parents.”

  Thea watched as the king’s hand, which had been about to cut through a piece of beef, tightened around his knife. He made a noise that was most like a grunt, and Amara said nothing.

  “Tell me why I’m here.” Thea hadn’t touched her food, nor did she plan on eating. For all she knew, he could have put some type of potion or poison into it. Amara glanced up in surprise at Thea’s sudden change in tone, then looked at her father, who had stopped mid-bite.

  “This is your home,” the king said through tight lips.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I told you, Father—” Amara stood, looking angry, but was cut off sharply.

  “Silence, Amara.”

  The entire room fell silent and Thea folded her hands in her lap. She had no intention of making this easy on them. Thankfully, she was one step ahead in knowledge, now that she knew about the ritual, but she needed more information before she could figure out the next step in her plan. The staring contest between herself and her father was enough to make anyone want to scream. It stretched on for what seemed like ages, and while Amara half-stood at the table, Thea remained calm and seated.

  The king set his fork and knife down, not daring to back down from the visible power struggle between them. He looked as if he were contemplating his next words very carefully, rolling them over on this tongue, but at that same moment, a raven soared in through an open window near the ceiling. It must have once been a skylight, for otherwise Thea could not think of any logical reason to have a window so far out of reach. The large bird landed on the king’s shoulder, the same way it had done to Amara in the village, when she was torturing Marcus. The difference was that the bird did not dig her talons into the king’s shoulder. Apparently, pain was not needed to make the king obey. The raven’s yellow eyes stared Thea down, raising the hairs on the back of her arms and neck. For a moment, she just stared, her mouth slightly open as a vision flooded her memory, a vision of two girls playing by a lakeside.

  “Morrigan,” Thea said, her tone cool and collected. She didn’t doubt her deduction, and the bird cawed in approval; it sounded amused. Amara lowered herself back into her chair, appearing to shrink away at the sight of the Goddess of Death in her imprisoned form. Thea’s entire body reacted to this new danger. She examined her exits once more, now adding the high above window to the mix, as impossible as it would be to reach.

  The bird’s eyes twinkled, a smirk hidden behind their golden glow. Thea glared, gripping the arms of her chair a little harder. The darkness Amara had commanded was nothing compared to the shadows that now stretched out from behind the king’s chair. He glowered as they crept along the floor beneath the table, tangling themselves around Thea’s ankles. It took every bit of control she had not to scream at the curdling feeling their touch brought to her skin.

  “I have tried to be kind to you, dear daughter,” the king said with a newfound confidence. “But you are only a child; I owe you no explanation for my actions.”

  For some reason, this angered Thea more than anything else he’d said. She’d been called a lot of things over the past few weeks, even over her life, but a child was something she was not. She’d travelled across realms to come to this point, and he underestimated everything about her, including her age. She rose from her chair, summoning as much of that raw confidence that she saw in her father’s eyes as she could. She thought of her mother’s sacrifice and of Kieran. She thought of all the reasons she needed to stop her father from what he planned to do. As she stood, his eyes widened and Morrigan flapped her wings, as if ready to soar toward Thea.

  “You don’t frighten me, Father. You may bully your youngest daughter into doing your bidding,” she glanced at Amara, whose eyes looked like they might bulge out of her head, “but I am not a child; I am the Queen of Ivandor.”

  A redness burned across the king’s face, and it reminded Thea once more of their relationship, recognizing that same scarlet shadow that often plagued her own facade. He stood then, staring down at her, and Morrigan soared into the air with what sounded as close to a laugh as a crow’s caw could come. The king’s fist slammed down, sending his plate to the floor, and the few humans disappeared quicker than light from the room. Amara had lost all confidence that she’d shown w
ith Thea alone, now quivering in the face of her father’s anger, fearful that it would turn on her.

  “How dare you—”

  “No. How dare you! How dare you stand where she stood and pretend you are worthy of that crown?” Thea spat the bile that had risen to her throat from her mouth. Her anger surprised even her, but the more she imagined what her mother had gone through to keep her safe, the more she hated her father. The darkness danced beneath the surface of her skin, but she refused to let it out. Instead, her anger boiled her blood. Her fingers twitched, and when Morrigan dove at her, she held up a hand to set an invisible wall of air between herself and the bird. The raven gave an angry squawk as it tried to recuperate its flight pattern, and the king’s eyes turned on Amara.

  “You told me she was an earth user.” Thea had never heard a voice sound so animalistic. Amara just stared with wide eyes at them both, stumbling over her words.

  “Oh, I am.” Thea smiled, finally feeling like she had the upper hand. So she’d been wrong. Her father really did not understand what she was capable of. She steadied her stance the way Kieran had taught her to when preparing to face an enemy and planted her feet into the ground. She wasn’t about to stick around here any longer than she needed to, nor give them a chance to react. The king’s reaction was slow and confused, giving Thea only moments before the castle guards realized what was happening.

  I only have one shot at this, so don’t let me screw it up.

  The prayer floated into the abyss as she crouched, placing the palms of her hands against the wooden castle floors and reached for the earth beneath the surface. She knew it was there, even if long forgotten, and soon the roots of plants as old as the land itself sprang from the cracking tiles. They shot upward beneath the table, lifting it into the air as plates of food and goblets of drinks clattered and splashed around them. Thea watched the king stumble backwards as the ground quaked beneath them and smirked as a vine wrapped around the base of Amara’s chair, dragging her toward the kitchen doors.

  “That’s impossible,” King Malachi said, regaining his composure. Morrigan screeched in the air above, diving at Thea, who quickly rolled her body across the floor to dodge her razor-sharp beak. She didn’t want to know what that would feel like piercing her skin. She had enough scrapes and bruises right now. The shadows, which had scattered in the chaos and loss of focus from the king, returned to him, rising nearly to the ceiling, and Thea knew she needed to decide before the king did. She could not fight them all, but what was it Kieran had said when they’d first started training?

  There is no shame in running. Sometimes that is all that will save your life. She’d rolled her eyes at him for that, thinking that running was an absolute waste of time when she could learn to control her magic. Well, maybe running was exactly what she needed to do.

  She glanced back toward the doorway, aware that the king was calling for his guards and screaming at Amara to get up and stop Thea. It was just like her father to want a sixteen-year-old girl to fight a battle he was too scared to fight himself.

  Thea glimpsed the guards coming in through the double doors, but it was either take them on, or the king and Amara, who stood between her and the kitchen. She stopped debating and pushed her feet as quickly as they would carry her toward the only plausible exit. The king screamed and scrambled as roots tangled around his ankles, and Amara dove out of the way just in time to escape a large branch’s grip on her arm.

  The guards in the doorway looked baffled by the scene inside the dining room, but they quickly discovered Thea was the new threat the king had summoned them to face. Both guards were Faerie, and Thea figured the king only trusted his own kind to protect him. They each had wings that made Thea’s heart ache for Kieran, but she had no time for emotions right now. It was fight or flight, and flight was the only option she had. She breathed hard as she barreled towards the two Faeries, watching their eyes widen in surprise at her lack of hesitation. Air and earth were really the only elements Thea knew how to use in combat, although she wished desperately that she could just make fire shoot out of her hands, knowing full well that was not how it worked. The magic it had taken to control the earth below her had been enough to bring a strain to Thea’s energy. She focused on the bracelet on her arm, not quite sure how to use it, but saw the red gem begin to glow in response to just her thoughts. She immediately felt her strength returning to her and sent a tornado of air toward the Faeries. They had their swords drawn and dove out of the way of her attack, and that left the doorway wide open.

  As Thea neared the door, she felt a sharp pain scraping into her left shoulder and let out a piercing scream. Morrigan had finally hit her mark, digging her talons into the soft part of Thea’s shoulder. Thea’s right arm flew up to protect her face from the bird’s pecking beak, but she felt the contact it made with her skin and the rush of warm blood.

  “No! She needs to be alive!” the king yelled, sounding closer than Thea liked. A set of small, stiff hands wrapped around her wrists, and Thea turned her head to face her sister as she tugged her arms behind her back. Both physical pain and emotional distress overwhelmed her as she saw the hope of her escape fading away. She needed to get to that door. She’d even thought she had a chance. For a moment, she’d had hope, but now, as Amara pinned her hands and the bird screeched in her ear, all she could feel was hope fading away.

  “Alive for what!?” Her voice was not her own; it was violent and pained. She thought of everyone she’d just failed, everyone who was counting on her to stop this madness. “Amara, release me!”

  She glared at her half-sister, but realized then that something had shifted in her eyes. She looked less frightening when she was terrified of her father. It made Thea feel sorry for her, despite the tight grip she had.

  “Just do what he says,” Amara whispered in a way that Thea was sure no one else heard. Morrigan finally retracted her talons from Thea’s shoulder, and blood pooled onto the floor around them. Thea felt dizzy, although she was unsure if that was from the loss of blood or the magic she’d used. The bracelet had stopped glowing, and Thea knew its magic was gone too. It had given her the moment of strength she’d needed, but she had still not been strong enough to escape. Just like she hadn’t been strong enough to save Marcus, and would not be strong enough to save the rest of her people.

  The door closed in front of Thea, her only chance at freedom disappearing with the click of a lock. The Faerie guards remained on the inside of the doors now, looking slightly worse for wear than they had before Thea hit them with the tornado. Amara turned Thea toward their father once more, leaving the door to freedom behind them. The king clenched his hands into fists and stared at both his daughters with the same hatred, as if Amara too had just struck him with magic and tried to escape. Amara shuddered under the gaze. Thea’s limbs weighed her down as she slumped slightly against Amara. Every breath that she took felt like fire seared her lungs. She feared her broken rib had punctured something inside of her, as she spit bloodied saliva onto the ground beside her.

  “I am done with your games,” the king said. He reached a hand up, running it through his graying hair. “I have an offer for you.”

  His eyes met Thea’s now, a smirk sparkling within his gaze. He motioned to the guards behind Thea, and suddenly Amara was also being held in custody. She let out a scream of surprise and turned her hateful eyes on the Faerie, but there was no way she could fight them off with her hands pinned behind her, so instead she returned her questioning gaze to her father.

  “You want your boyfriend back, right? The human one?” He tapped his fingers against the wood of the chair. Thea’s back straightened, her vision refocusing on the world around her. She knew Marcus was dead, but her father speaking of him brought the darkness back to the surface. She could kill them all. She knew she could. If she just let herself taste that power again. Maybe she could even control it, she tried to convince herself, now that she knew the risks. “What if I told you I could bring him back to
you?”

  “That’s impossible,” Thea said, although her voice betrayed her as she wondered if it really was. The king smiled, knowing he’d captured her attention, and motioned toward the raven who had settled back upon his shoulder. Thea’s blood dripped from her talons.

  “Not for us, it isn’t.” He glanced at Amara with a nearly apologetic smile. “It will cost us, though.”

  Amara looked between King Malachi and Thea with a terrified gaze. Thea didn’t want to meet her eyes. She continued to stare at the king, observing his expression.

  “Cost us what?” she asked carefully.

  “Morrigan can give me the power to bring him back, but you will need to agree to bring her back first. For that, I would need your blood.” He held up his hands when Thea protested. “Just a small amount, given by your own will.”

  “I don’t see how this costs you anything,” Thea said with a raised eyebrow. Her arms ached from being pinned behind her back. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep, but she couldn’t show that weakness, not when she was about to find out why she was really here. She glanced at Amara, who was still being held against her will, and at all the other curious faces in the room. A few humans had returned, now that the commotion had settled down. Morrigan rested with thoughtful eyes on the king’s shoulder, and the king himself kept his distance from both his daughters, hiding behind two more Faerie guards who had arrived while Thea had been busy fighting off the raven. Thea saw his cowardice for what it was. He knew Thea was powerful but not powerful enough to take on an army by herself. Still, he played his role from a safe distance.

  “Life is delicate. I cannot just restore one life without taking another.” He looked at Amara directly. “And with this spell, dark magic took a life. Therefore, we would exchange the slayer for the slain.”