by Bailey Dark
I stare down at her, sitting on the stone floor mutely. Her once shining pale blonde locks are greasy and dark with dirtiness. Her red cloak is covered in stains and dirt, cast aside in the corner where she sleeps. She looks up at me, fire in her eyes despite her silence. I pause in front of her cell, anger roiling in my gut.
This woman may as well have taken Verity herself.
“Who are you?” I demand, gripping the torch tighter. Her blue eyes slip away from me and her mouth remains clamped tightly shut. I curl my lip at her. “Your dark god and so-called sister abandoned you here, and yet you still protect them. Pathetic.”
“They can die in the ether,” she spits, eyes blazing. “But I will never betray the Bloodbane.”
“Then you’ll die here,” I say blandly. “Alone, starving, begging for death. What a pity.”
I turn on my heel, stalking away from her. I hear her cackling behind me, as if my words have only fueled her spirit. Scowling, I drop the torch into the wall sconce before I return to the main levels of the castle. Nothing the Bloodbane has ever said has been useful. I had hoped she would realize that they left her behind because Sadal and Maaz are cruel and heartless rulers. But the Bloodbane seems intent on serving them until her death.
I pinch my lips together. Her death with come sooner than she thinks. The Fae and the Bloodbane aren’t immune to starvation, disease, or blades. I shove through the door leading from the dungeon into the castle. The guards start and then rush back down the dungeons to return to their posts.
The castle is quiet these days, almost as quiet as it was during the curse. Now, it’s quiet because they know war is on the horizon. They know the Bloodbane move against us with the force of an ancient god at their backs. I loose a sigh, dragging a hand over my bearded cheeks. I never imagined Alnembra would see a war during my reign, let alone a war as important as this one. If we lose here, there will be nothing and no one to stop Sadal from taking the rest of the continent.
I ease open the door to my council room to plan out my strategy and the position of my forces. “Altair,” Thal says softly.
I glance up from the floor, shoulders slumped with fatigue. Thal is standing beside the table, a finger on the map. His eyes are wide, furrowed with concern. Beside him, Moritz is bundled in a heavy cloak. He studies me over the folds of the cowl, his eyes gleaming.
“Altair,” Haru says. I turn to her. She strides towards me from the window, dressed in a cobalt blue gown. A thin sword is strapped to her waist. She wraps me in a warm hug, and I breathe in the scent of the sea.
“Haru,” I say. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s been many years.” She smiles, pulling back.
When she releases me, Thal is there, clasping my hand. He studies me. “You look like shit.”
I cock a brow. “I’ve been a bit busy.”
Thal drops his head. “I’m sorry about Verity.”
I stiffen and tug my hand back to my side. When her name is spoken by another, I feel a wave of sorrow and fury. I want her back, I think. I want her back more than anything in the world. Without acknowledging Thal’s sympathy, I sidle past him to greet Moritz.
“Moritz.” I take his hand and shake it stiffly. “Good of you to come.”
“What do we know?” Moritz asks, his eyes flashing with intelligence.
“Haru, Thal, Moritz,” I sigh, waving at the leather seats surrounding the table. “Take a seat.”
Haru’s skirts rustle as she settles into her chair, Thal beside her. Moritz eyes the chair at the head of the table, my chair, before selecting the one beside it. I stare wryly at him before turning back to the maps. I lean over the maps, staring into my companion’s eyes.
“This is what we know.”
Chapter 3
Verity
I cringe as I hurry through the muddy paths between the tents towards my own. Bloodbane creep past me, glowering at me and turning their cloaked backs to me. I ignore them, they don’t bother me beyond the occasional shove. It’s the demons that pose the real threat.
I spot the shining scales of one of the creatures in the distance and take a sharp turn. It’s best to avoid them when I can, even if it takes longer to get through the Bloodbane war camp. I saw one last night, through the tent walls, sniffing at the door. I shiver, remembering the fear I felt before it slipped away into the darkness to find other prey. I can only assume that somehow, Sadal has marked me to protect me from the demons’ hunting. But that doesn’t stop them from stalking me from time to time.
Glancing over my shoulder for any sign of one of the creature’s following me, I stumble slightly. Mud splashes over my dress, drenching my shoes. “Shit,” I mutter, swiping at it.
I feel a hot breath of wind caress my head. I freeze, fear lancing through me. Slowly, ever so slowly, I look up. A demon towers over me, panting. Saliva gleams on his yellow teeth, dripping down over crusted lips. I stare at the teeth, unable to drag my eyes away. From the corner of my eye, I can see its unnaturally long arms rising, as if to snatch me. My body tenses, and my veins are as cold as ice.
Frozen, I stare as the creature considers taking me. I feel a wave of sorrow as I realize that these are the creatures the Fae soldiers will face head on. These are the beasts Altair will face. Four heads taller than me, I know these demons will tower over the Fae. They stand almost no chance.
A whimper slips from my lips and suddenly the creature snarls. It slips away, dashing between the tents towards the shadows of the deeper mountain crevices. My shoulders tremble and tears prick at my eyes. I take a deep, shuddering breath and force myself to move. I have work to do.
I see my tent come into view. The tent I share with Sadal. My lips twist into a frown as I see the tent flap tied open. Since we arrived at the war camp, Sadal hasn’t slept in the tent, or even visited during the day. He comes and goes, flashes of shadow on the mountain. He’s there now. And he left the door open for me.
I duck inside, brows furrowed. The tent is huge, the size of a normal bedroom at least. On the right side, is a wooden stove with a chimney that feeds out of the tent roof. In the back, a bed covered in furs and pillows sits. And in the center, a large table that before this moment has been empty. Now, Sadal and Maaz circle it, staring down at faded maps.
My eyes dart between the two most powerful beings in this world. Maaz’s eyes meet mine first. She curls her lip at me with disdain. I remember the first moment I saw her, at a ball with Altair. I remember the way she sidled up to him, crooning. And I remember her cold gaze falling on me just as it does now. My hands clench into fists at my side as anger flashes through me. There’s a dark place in my heart that feeds off of my hatred towards Maaz. And I do hate her. I detest her more than anyone else in the world.
But the feeling is mutual, and I see her fingernails dig into the wood of the table. Sadal looks up at last, his dark eyes gleaming. He grins, a smile that stretches too wide over his handsome face. “Verity,” he purrs, reaching for me. “I was wondering where you had run off to.”
“Likely spying for her lover,” Maaz spits, straightening. She slips around the table, her slight figure draped in a silk shift so thin I can see the dark outlines of her nipples. “Isn’t that right, mortal?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “And how shall I send my information to him? Perhaps on the back of one of the demons.”
Sadal laughs. “I would gladly offer you a messenger bird, if that’s your wish.”
I clamp my lips shut, staring at him suspiciously. Since my capture, I’ve trodden carefully around Sadal when it comes to Altair. Every night, I dream that Sadal slips an ebony dagger into Altair’s heart right in front of me. I do what I can to keep Altair off of Sadal’s mind. So, I shrug and peer down at the maps on the table innocently.
“Ever seen a war room, love?” Sadal asks, trailing a finger over my arm.
I slip away, distancing myself. “I have now,” I quip.
On the maps, I can see black symbols showing the extent
of Sadal’s forces. The black pieces encroach close on Alnembra’s borders, which are covered in golden pieces. Just outside Desmarais, I see a red pawn toppled. Altair.
My gut coils angrily as Sadal carelessly maneuvers his forces over the map as if he’s already won. Maaz tuts, dragging my attention away from Altair’s doom. “She shouldn’t be here,” she snaps.
“Why?” Sadal asks, barely glancing away from his plans. “She can’t get word to Altair. And even if she could, she would have nothing to say to him.”
My eyes narrow with confusion and I feel my heart clench. “Why not?” I ask. My nail digs into the wood, picking at a loose chip.
He glances up at me. “Because you’re mine now.”
“Not yet,” I snap. I still haven’t covenanted with him. I never will.
“You are,” he murmurs, turning back to the maps. “You have been since the night of your capture.”
My blood goes cold like ice in my veins and it feels as if my heart stops. “What?” I ask softly, feeling as if the breath has been knocked from my body.
Maaz’s head snaps towards him. “What?” She demands, breathing fast.
Sadal sighs and finally stands to his full height. He strides around the table towards me, cornering me before I can back away. Fear tingles down my spine as he leans over me. His dark eyes rove over my face, resting on my lips before slipping back to my eyes. He brushes a hand over my cheek, and I shudder.
“When we took you from Altair’s palace and brought you to the Bloodbane keep,” he whispers gently, “I carried you in my arms to the Holy Rite and carried out the ritual.”
“How?” I breathe, frozen. The arcane ritual requires carefully spoken promises, blood sacrifices, and more.
“You said exactly what you needed to, love.” He presses his lips against my ear. “The blood was mine.”
Maaz gasps, her shoulders tightening. I feel the ground beneath my feet slipping away but I hold tightly to the corner of the table as Sadal breathes me in. He finally straightens and smiles at me like a proud lover. With a final brush of his fingers against my cold skin, he moves away to a trunk in the corner.
I watch as he draws a red cloak from it. My eyes widen and I gape in horror as he draws the bloodred cloak around my shoulders. I shudder when I feel the weight of it on me. Maaz glares at me as Sadal ties the cloak in place and stands back to admire me.
“Beautiful,” he purrs.
I make a choking sound as horror rushes through me. I failed Altair. I failed him and how can I ever tell him? I can feel my heart trembling, beating off-rhythm as I panic. Sadal watches, smiling broadly while Maaz scowls. I stare down at my hands, to the empty finger where Altair’s ring once sat. The promise I made to Altair to bind myself to him is meaningless now. I’ve been bound to another.
I glance at Sadal, sickened. Forever.
Suddenly, I feel a stinging pain on my cheek. I inhale sharply as Maaz’s brilliant, furious eyes come into view. Her hand is still raised, the palm pink from making contact with my cheek. Her narrow fingers wrap around my chin and she tugs at me. I blink back tears of pain, gasping.
“How dare you?” She hisses. “You should be honored that the Dark God would spill his own blood to bind you to him. There are few who are so privileged.”
“Are you?” I ask with a muffled voice, narrowing my eyes at her.
She grimaces furiously, her eyes flashing. “You don’t deserve the honor of the covenant.”
“That’s what I thought,” I say, smiling despite the grip she has on my chin.
“Maaz,” Sadal snaps. “Get out.”
Maaz rips her hand away, huffing. Her cheeks are pink with fury, eyes impossibly wide. With a final glance over her shoulder she stalks out of the tent. Sadal rolls his eyes, watching her slender figure disappear between the forest of tents outside. He reaches for me, but I dart out of arm’s length, panting. I rub my jaw, staring fearfully at him as he watches me. Sadal shrugs before following Maaz outside.
I wonder briefly if bruises will form on my chin and jaw where Maaz held me so tightly. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror; cowed, pale, and draped in red. I close my eyes, sorrow fluttering in my chest. Every day, I grow further from Altair. Every day, I find a new challenge to blame myself for.
When I open my eyes, the Bloodbane text near the bed catches my eye. I slip towards it, apprehensive. When my fingers wrap around the cover, I feel it vibrate with power. I lift my eyes to the mirror again. Sadal gave me power when he forced me through the ritual. He gave me the power of the Bloodbane with no limitations.
He made a mistake.
Chapter 4
Altair
“Hit them hard,” I hiss. “I want all of our soldiers striking at once.”
Haru, Moritz, Thal, and I are clustered in a tent a day’s march from Alnembra, close to the mountain border. Our combined forces, made up of my most elite troops and Moritz’s soldiers, are camped all around us; a sea of soldiers stretching for miles in every direction but east.
Moritz narrows his eyes and pins his finger to the map. “Absolutely not. If we strike with everything we have, Sadal will hit back twice as hard because that’s what he’ll expect.”
“He’ll strike as hard as he can regardless of our own forces,” I say fiercely, acutely aware of Thal’s warning gaze.
“If we reveal the entirety of our forces, Sadal will plow through us if we don’t finish him in this battle. I won’t allow us to risk everything here,” Moritz snarls.
“I want him obliterated. Destroyed.” I lean forward, eyes intent on the map.
Haru crosses her arms. Her black hair is braided back tightly, her blue gown traded for a pair of sleek leather trousers and a cuirass. She looks every bit the warrior I know she is. Her eyes, which fluctuate between kind and hard, soften now. “We all do, Altair,” she murmurs.
I resist the temptation to snap at her that she couldn’t possibly feel the overwhelming intensity that I do. Instead, I drop my eyes back to the map, curling my fingers against the heavy parchment.
Moritz moves our pieces that symbolize our forces and places them on opposite flanks of the Bloodbane army. “We flank them with half our forces. Feel out his strength, and show him ours without being reckless,” he says coolly, his hand disappearing back into his heavy cloak.
“Too lenient,” I whisper, snatching back the pieces.
“Don’t be a fool,” Moritz snarls. He straightens, rising to his full height and glowers at me over the cowl of his cloak. “You would risk everything for that woman?”
“I would,” I growl, leaning forward with my eyes flashing.
“Then you’re an even greater fool than I thought,” he says. He strides towards the tent flap. “My soldiers and I will return to Canes immediately. We’ll prepare for Sadal on our own. After he’s taken Alnembra.”
My blood goes cold as his hand wraps around the door. I stare at him, eyes wide. “No,” I breathe.
He glances at me over his shoulder as Haru starts towards him. She places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “Moritz,” she says, warning lacing her voice. “Reconsider.”
“Apologize,” Thal whispers in my ear.
I turn sharply to him. “For what? For trying to rescue Verity and save my kingdom?”
He closes his eyes for a moment before snapping them open, eyes blazing. “You know he’s right, Altair. You know it. Use your head. You can’t alienate the only allies that are willing to step up and save Alnembra,” he hisses.
“Fuck,” I murmur under my breath. He’s right. Of course he is. Thal, despite his playboy ways, was always clever. I turn back to Moritz, the muscles in my back tensing. “Moritz,” I bark.
Moritz cocks a brow at the harsh way I addressed him. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, relaxing my jaw. “The vast majority of our forces are your men. I won’t forget that.”
“You owe me, Altair,” Moritz says softly.
“I know,” I mutter, heart c
lenching in my chest.
“Now that wounded egos have been licked,” Haru says, her lips twisted into a mirthful smile. “What’s our next move?”
I look at Moritz before moving the pieces of our forces past the mountain border and into Alnembra’s plains. “We wait for them here, where they bottleneck from the mountain passes.”
“Archers here,” Haru murmurs, joining me at the table. “Cavalry here. And the catapults?”
Moritz peers at the map. “We march half our soldiers, our best. But I don’t want our forces to be burdened by heavy catapults.”
I nod, considering this. “Agreed.”
Suddenly, the door flies open, and a messenger stumbles into the room. His eyes are wide, and I can smell the fear permeating from his skin. Sweat trickles from his brow and he stands, frozen, in the doorway. I narrow my eyes, fear coiling in my gut. “Spit it out,” Moritz commands.
“Demons,” the messenger pants. “Demons on the mountains.”
My gaze darts towards Thal as my blood chills with fear. “On the mountains?”
“Crawling everywhere,” the messenger says, face paling.
I rush past the messenger, shoving him to the side as I burst out into the sunlight. “March!” I bellow, sprinting down the lines of tents and soldiers to urge them into action. We have no time anymore. Not if the enemy has already been spotted.
I skid to a halt as the mountains come into view; black shadows writhe over the surface like ants on fallen food. My heart skips a beat and I understand instantly why the messenger could hardly pass his message. Haru is at my side, joined by Moritz. I feel Thal at my shoulder, gasping.
“Gods,” he breathes, eyes wide.
I round on Moritz. “Get your generals, get your men. We need to march. We need to march now.”
My squires run to my side, hauling my heavy golden armor behind them. I stand still as they tie my armor into place and pass me my long sword. Thal stares wide-eyed at me. “You aren’t going to the front lines, are you?” I don’t answer, instead belting my sword securely at my waist. I press into the thick of soldiers preparing for battle. Thal follows me, on my heels and breathing fast with fear. “Altair, you can’t fight. We can’t afford losing you.”
