A Crown of Ice and Fury, page 29
part #1 of A Crowns of Magic Universe Series Series
Seated lions carrying scales of justice on their backs line the hallways. Compared to other castles I’d been in, there were few paintings and tapestries. Lady Ithamai appeared to be a minimalist, and when I thought back to the few times that I’d seen the Warden of the East, she’d always dressed in her house colors, with perhaps a lion to honor her house, but few other embellishments.
I turned a corner and scowled as Hadia and Adila Ithamai, the two blonde heiresses to the great house, came into view, strutting our way, dressed in gowns of deep purple.
Adila’s face was pinched with annoyance. “Why do you think I don’t have a chance with Prince Rhistel?”
“Because I’m trying to woo him!” Hadia replied as though that were all too obvious. “Mother is well in the king’s good graces. This is the perfect time to plant the idea of uniting our houses.”
“You’re engaged to Luccan Riis.” Adila spat out my friend’s name like it was a bad word.
“The king won’t make me wed him any longer. His father is a traitor, and our house is loyal to the Crown of Winter.” Hadia gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
Yrsa had passed the sisters. Qildor was next, then me. Although my instinct told me to look down, I found myself captivated by their conversation. They’d always been horrible to me, going as far as to chase and threaten me one night, but in that moment they merely sounded like sisters. Or perhaps I was just shocked that someone would even want to marry Rhistel.
“And besides,” Hadia continued, “everyone knows the prince likes his females with more meat on their bones.” As if to drive the point home, she did a little shimmy and her large breasts jiggled.
“Oh?” Adila did not seem amused. “Does he plan to eat you and all that meat?”
“I should hope so. Imagine having a husband who did not like to feast?!”
Caught off guard, I nearly snorted in laughter. I stopped myself just in time, but not all the way and the oddest sound came out. Like a sneeze mixed with a yawn. The sisters, three paces away, shifted their gazes to lock on me.
Adila narrowed her eyes. “What’s so funny?”
“I could not help but overhear.” I did my best to modulate my voice and bowed as best I could with the heavy basket in hand. The act felt all wrong. I was no longer scared of these two, and I desperately wanted to show them who I was and how strong I’d become. But now was not the time. “Apologies, my ladies.”
“You shouldn’t be listening in on your betters’ conversations.”
Did they not expect others to hear them when they spoke so plainly in the open? Of course I didn’t say that, just ducked my head and shifted the weight of the laundry basket.
“Away with you,” Hadia commanded.
I scurried by and, as soon as they could no longer see me, released an incredulous snort. Yrsa led us down another long corridor, this one narrow and with no other high fae in the area.
She stopped and waited for us to catch up. The moment we did, she nodded down the hall. “There are steps twenty paces further on the right. They lead to the dungeons, so this is where we stash the props and prepare.”
“Will the other team use this entry?” Vale asked, and I was certain his mind was whirring with strategy. Possibilities. Issues that may arise.
“No. The dungeons are vast. There are two other entrances known to most castle workers and one that is a secret.”
“How do you know about it then?”
“The same boyfriend. The one the public doesn’t know about travels below the castle by waterway. It’s closest to the section of the dungeon where they’ll keep the queen, and guaranteed to be clear of guards, but I’d rather avoid it if we can. Dangerous creatures live in there.”
“You know all this from courting someone in the castle?” I asked.
“I can be very persuasive,” Yrsa grinned, and in that moment, she looked so like Thantrel that I did not doubt her powers of persuasion for a second.
We stashed our props into two nearby rooms that were mercifully empty. At the door leading to the stairwell, Yrsa performed her magic with her lock picks, and the door squealed open.
Down the pitch-black stone stairwell we went. The faelights in my pocket called to me, but I refrained from pulling one out. Darkness was our ally, and it took only about ten seconds for my vision to adjust enough that the darkness did not feel quite so oppressive.
A full minute passed before I caught new sounds. Snores first. Then soft moans. I swallowed. How many prisoners were awake? And if they saw us, would they say anything?
“I will silence any threat,” Astril said, as if she’d been reading my mind.
“If the queen is where I think she is, we won’t have to pass by too many inhabited cells,” Yrsa said. “But guards are down here too, and it only takes one to sound an alarm.”
We descended further, and I was about to ask when the steps would end and how far below the main levels of the castle we were, when a light from below caught my eye. A damp, disgusting scent followed. That of waste and mold.
“Closing in,” Vale whispered. “Prepare your weapons.”
Daggers appeared from boots. As we took the last few steps downward, I held my breath. Waiting. Listening.
The bottommost portion of the first two cells materialized, as did a rotund guard. He lumbered our way, muttering to himself, not having heard or seen us yet. He seemed to be returning to his post, a rickety stool propped by the steps, after disciplining a prisoner. Or that was what I gathered by the blood dripping off the bludgeon he carried.
“I have this,” Qildor and Vale whispered in unison, but not before Astril shot forward, so fast the guard didn’t see her coming until she was right in front of him.
A strike to the head, and he slumped. Astril caught him and thank the stars the prisoners in the first two cells were asleep. The cover of darkness was one reason we’d delayed our mission for hours, but another reason was that fewer prisoners would be awake to witness us extracting the queen.
Astril dragged him back to the stool and positioned the guard so that he was leaning against the wall, appearing to have fallen asleep on the job.
“Potion?” Qildor asked. We possessed many more vials of the brew than we’d used outside. The concoction would keep someone asleep for hours.
“Yes,” Vale said, and Qildor pulled a vial from his pocket to administer the potion. “As much as I’d like to think we’ll be in and out quickly, I’m not counting on it.”
“What about keys?” I asked.
“Here.” Yrsa held up a keyring. I hadn’t even seen her lift it from the guard.
“Lead the way.” My husband flourished a hand in the direction of the darkness.
Yrsa took the right fork, barreling down the dank passage lit by faelights that flickered as though they might go out at any second. The idea struck me as cruel. No natural light made its way down here, and to lose even one faelight would plunge the closest cells into darkness. How terrifying that would be.
We hit a sharp left turn at the edge of the dungeon, I presumed.
Yrsa twisted. “We’re going to pass a few more cells, then duck into the isolation wing. I think she’ll be there.”
We careened through the passageway, rushing by cells filled with sleeping fae until a hiss sent a shiver down my spine. I whirled towards the sound and found, of all fae races, a leprechaun. Dirty-faced, disheveled, and wide awake, the fae stared at us.
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice grated against my ear, raspy from disuse.
“And why are you?” Vale asked. “I’ve never seen an imprisoned leprechaun.”
“The high lady locked me up. But I bet she’d let me out if I called the guards. My debts, my misdeeds, are nothing to what you plan to do.” He arched knowing eyebrows.
He didn’t know who we were; the glamours were too good for that. But we were heading in the direction of the queen’s cell, so it didn’t take a genius to guess our motives.
“Or you can hold your tongue, and we’ll let you live.” Yrsa dangled the keys.
“Get me out and to safety, and I won’t squeal.”
“Deal, but we get what we came for first.”
There was the possibility that once any cell door opened, a guard above would be alerted. We could not waste that chance on this leprechaun.
He nodded, hinting what we had guessed might very well be true. I wondered how many fae tried to escape this place and how far they got before they were captured to give a random prisoner this idea.
“We’ll mark you.” Yrsa turned to Vale. “Pull that faelight here?”
With a flick of his wrist, my mate called air, and one of the suspended faelights drifted our way. As it was one of the only ones nearby, it would be an obvious marker.
“Any tips on how to get her out?” I asked.
The leprechaun snorted. “I’d expect your task to be difficult.”
“Thanks for nothing,” Astril muttered, and we continued on until we turned into the corridor that housed the isolation area.
This section of the dungeon was even more poorly lit, with only one faelight every fifty or so paces. As we walked, I listened, desperate to hear those of South Star approach. Were they close? Or in trouble?
That question left my mind as, about thirty empty cells deep into the isolation corridor, we came across Queen Inga, staring out of the darkness.
Chapter 35
VALE
“Mother.” I approached the bars, vibrating with magic.
She was thinner, her skin had taken on a gray pallor, and the light in her eyes was dimmed.
“Are you yourself?” I asked as the female who had brought me into this world and protected the secret of my parentage for so long shuffled closer. “Or is he still controlling you?”
Astril cocked her head, and I pretended I didn’t notice her reaction, but inwardly cursed my stupidity. We had not yet revealed that Mother or Rhistel were whisperers, but slip ups like that would have people guessing.
My mother came towards me, her steps unsteady. Tried to discern why she seemed aged and injured when there were no marks on her body. Only dirt.
“Vale? Is that you?” Her voice broke, gaze scanning my glamoured face.
She’d only been in here for a few days, but the isolation wing was empty and dark. The air hung around us, still and musty. Choking. A slab of stone, not even another cell with another being to make eye contact with. Perhaps the cell itself had magic upon it to amplify a sense of loneliness too. I would not put it past Lady Ithamai. She was ruthless with anyone who broke her laws, no matter how small.
“It’s me, Mother.”
She eyed me distrustfully. “Tell me the first thing I said to you after learning that you’d wed.”
A test. She was uncertain that I was real, that any of this was.
The memory of my mother in the hallway outside my Frostveil suite, watching me with desperation and ill-concealed anger, came rushing back. Had she suspected Isolde’s identity even then? Had the presence of a possible Falk reminded my mother of her past and what she’d done to keep her secret? I didn’t know, but I recalled her words as if she’d spoken them only yesterday.
“You said, tell me it isn’t true. You did not wed her.” As I spoke, I took Isolde’s hand in mine and squeezed, assuring her. “For the record, Mother, my choice is one I will never regret.”
Mother released a long, rancid breath, and it took all I had inside me not to rear back in disgust. What in the name of the dead gods were they feeding her?
“You shouldn’t have come. Rhistel wanted to lure you.” Cold rushed through me at her words, the confirmation that this was a trap. Mother’s gaze slid to Isolde. “And you. Did Lord Riis—”
“I know what you did.” My wife’s chin lifted. “I’m not here for you but for my mate. That being said, we need to get you out before someone comes.”
“Mate?” Mother whispered, but her words drowned against the sound of oncoming footsteps.
I tried to discern how many, but the leprechaun began shouting. Caelo’s voice yelled back, and the creature shut up, but I feared the damage had likely been done. That fear came true when, seconds later, those of South Star appeared through the darkness and just as an alarm blared to life.
Yrsa fumbled with the keys. “Qildor and Geiravor, examine the wards.”
The warders, two of the only ones in our trusted group of friends and allies, began studying the magic. Testing it with pokes of their own. I wasn’t familiar with the intricacies of Geiravor’s powers, but she worked quickly, prodding the bars. Trying new tactics. Testing and eliminating.
Qildor worked more methodically than his counterpart. He wasn’t the best warder in the kingdom, but he was excellent. That protective magic combined with other smaller magics that he’d honed and great skill with a sword had made him an ideal Clawsguard.
“Mother, do you recall anything about the magic placed on this cell when they brought you here?” Any clue could help the warders.
My mother blinked as if weights hung from her eyelids, as if still in Rhistel’s thrall. “Three warders created one protection each, likely so the others could not speak to the other two warders magic. Blood is the fourth layer of protection. The key is last.”
“Blood?” Geiravor asked.
“To the locks—they applied Rhistel’s blood.”
“Let’s hope that means his family can free her. Or perhaps the Blood of Winter,” Qildor said. “That’s a problem for after we break the magic, though. Wards. Then blood. Then the key.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“I—I wasn’t aware the entire time.” Mother blinked heavily.
Fates, my brother and the king were swines. We’d have to try my blood and hope that it worked as well as Rhistel’s.
“Got one!” Pride laced Geiravor’s voice as the bars glowed blue before returning to normal. “Where are you, Qildor?”
“No closer to figuring this ward out.”
“I’ll work on the last. Keep going.”
A bead of sweat dripped from the knight’s nose. Next to him, Yrsa waited with the keys. There were at least ten on the ring.
“What if the isolation wing’s keys aren’t on that ring?” I dared to ask.
After all, these fae were the worst of the worst. It was possible Lady Ithamai would hold those keys herself. Or that the king and Rhistel had wanted to keep the key to my mother’s cell on their persons.
“We’ll have to improvise,” Thyra said.
Since South Star arrived, and the warders began working, the rest of her company watched the end of the corridor. Waiting for castle guards to arrive.
“With no wards on the cell, Thyra and I might be able to shatter the lock,” Isolde offered.
If anyone could, it would be them. Isolde had the most powerful raw winter magic I’d ever seen. Her twin was nearly her equal.
“Hopefully, the key will work. We’ll see as soon as the wards are gone.” Yrsa swallowed.
“Vale?” Mother’s voice sounded fainter than before. Sweat beaded her forehead, and were her hands trembling?
“What is it?” I asked, straining my ears to tune out the many prisoners shouting about us, and who they suspected we were here for, in an effort to hear oncoming footsteps.
“I think I—” She stumbled over to the side of the cell and braced herself with one arm right before her eyes fluttered closed, and she fell to the ground in a faint.
“What in all the nine kingdoms?” Qildor’s magic halted for a moment, but Geiravor nudged him.
“Keep going! I think I’m close.”
My friend continued but shot me a look of concern. Of questions.
But I had no answers. Just worries.
“I hear footsteps,” Freyia said. “They’re coming.”
Geiravor let out a frustrated hiss. “Come on, Qildor!”
“I’m trying.”
“Weapons out.” I turned to face those coming for us just as they came into view.
Row after row of soldiers, marching four across, came at us. Armed to the teeth, there were at least fifty opponents, though the dimness made it difficult to count.
“Hands up,” a soldier barked. “We have you cornered.”
“They don’t,” Yrsa whispered. “The underground passageway, we can still use it.”
I stepped forward, daggers in both hands. Astril and Freyia slipped into place beside me, and Caelo and Thantrel posted up behind with Isolde and Thyra.
“We’ll take our chances.” With one dagger, I pointed to the front line, feeling far more like a villain than the Warrior Bear of Winter’s Realm. “Valkyrja.”
The vampires shot forward. The oncoming soldiers balked, and sounds of shock rang out as two of their own from each side of the front line fell. Then the middle ones. Before the second line lashed out, the vampires darted back, out of the way.
The soldiers exchanged wary glances. Debating whether to come at us or not.
“Stay there,” I commanded. “Not another pace forward and we won’t harm you. I pro—”
A low, cunning laugh came from somewhere in the lines of soldiers, sending the fire of rage simmering in my belly.
Chapter 36
VALE
The soldiers parted to reveal the king and my twin. The former stared us down, his face as cold as the ice and frost already forming on his fingertips. Rhistel, on the other hand, was the picture of calculated control with his cutting smile. Far more concerning was the fact that his ice spider silk gloves were off.
I scanned the soldiers, looking for glazed eyes or any sign that they might be under my twin’s power. Nothing stuck out, but I wasn’t sure that meant they were in their right minds. Mother could hide her whispering, and clearly Rhistel had been practicing more often than I knew if he could control her.
“Glamour or no, you cannot hide from me.” Rhistel’s gaze dragged down my body, ensuring I knew who he spoke with. “That stance. That arrogance you exhibit when you’re doing the only thing you’re good at. I know who you are. Knew you’d come.”
