A Queen This Fierce and Deadly (Kingdom of Lies)

18 ASINIA

The horses were wary of us from the moment we approached. We were strangers, and we didn’t have time to croon into their ears or stroke their fears away.

Besides, in order for our plan to work, we needed these horses to be spooked.

Demos had already taken care of the guard nearby—silently slitting his throat and leaning his body against a tree. I’d glanced away at that part. I could kill without a second thought during the heat of battle. But I still hadn’t reached a point where I could kill in cold blood.

Horrison untied the horses, and Gwynara stepped forward. Her main power was similar to Madinia’s. Except when she cupped her fire in the palm of her hand and then blew on it, the fire spewed from her hand, the warmth drifting close to several of the horses’ rumps.

As expected, the horses were unhappy about this turn of events. Two of them bucked, one reared, pawing the air, and several shot forward, driving into the other horses, who immediately bolted.

More fire—close enough that a few of the horses could see it—and there was no holding them back, even if we had wanted to. They galloped at breakneck speed, dangerous enough in a forest that I was worried a few of them might really break their necks.

But we had no time to waste. The others would be killing any remaining sentries while Brinlor and Nyrik made their way to the guards who weren’t on shift. Turning in the opposite direction of the horses, we cut through the forest toward the mine entrance, not even attempting to be quiet.

My blood pounded in my ears until it drowned out every other sound.

The guards had drawn their weapons by the time we got to the edge of the forest. One of them pointed up at us, but it was too late.

Gwynara had driven the horses into such a frenzy, several of them hurtled down the steep embankment, straight for the guards.

One of the guards whirled, raising his hand, but it was too late. The horse rode straight over him.

“Nice,” one of the fae whispered. I winced.

Another guard turned to run, clearly following his instincts. But there was no hope, and he likely died the moment the horse’s hoof smashed into his head.

A guard with gold thread wound into his uniform finally used his power, slamming it into one of the out-of-control horses.

The horse went flying, rolled, and stumbled to its feet. It stood there shaking, its head low. My chest clenched, but I couldn’t take the time to feel sorry for the poor thing. Demos and the others had already made it down the embankment. I nocked my first arrow, sending it straight toward the guard who’d pointed at us. He ducked out of sight behind a rock. My teeth clenched until it felt as if my jaw would crack. This had to be quick, before they sounded an alarm.

I waited until Gwynara aimed her power at one of his friends and he lifted his head to use his own power on her, and my next bolt hit him between his eyes.

By the time the guards were dead, the others had returned. “We got them all,” Nyrik said. “We’ve got three hours to get in, find the amulet, and get out. By then, it’s likely whoever these guards report to will begin getting suspicious when they don’t hear anything.”

Demos glanced at a burly hybrid named Yan. “You need to conserve your power for after. Stay on watch, and don’t use it unless absolutely necessary.”

“Understood.”

Yan and Demos each took a trowth stone, so we’d be able to communicate.

And then it was time.

No part of me wanted to go into the mine. I wasn’t claustrophobic like Pris. But my body remembered what had happened the last time we were below the earth. Thol had died in front of me. Cavis took Prisca, and that was the last time we saw him alive. Lorian, Demos, and I had fought our way out of those caves, only for me to be hit in the head by one of Regner’s monsters,, the bleeding almost killing me before they got me to a healer.

“Sin.”

Demos was waiting. The others had already begun walking into the entrance. He held out his hand.

I took it. The feel of his warm hand engulfing mine seemed to anchor me, and I could focus once more.

The others had waited inside for us, and I pulled my knife with my free hand. My crossbow would be useless in such a confined space.

Demos waited until we were all close enough that he only needed to whisper. “According to Kaliera’s spy friend Pelysian—who I still struggle to believe is Daharak’s brother, by the way—we need to walk one hundred footspans. Once we get near the monsters, there will be a false wall hiding another tunnel. From there, we move down.”

We all nodded, and then we were moving as one.

It smelled like death. The fae creatures could likely scent us, because their furious screams echoed through the mine toward us, making me fight the urge to cringe. It was even colder than I’d expected, the chill leaching the energy from my muscles.

My eyes struggled to adjust to the sparse, flickering light from the orbs hanging sporadically along the walls. With the others in front of me and Demos by my side, I could at least focus on the uneven ground beneath my feet as we inched forward.

One of the hybrids knocked into the skeletal remains of a scaffold, cursed, and continued walking. The foul odor intensified, clinging to the back of my throat. Everyone seemed suddenly on edge as the light began to change, taking on a sinister, greenish hue.

The monsters were snarling—deep, vicious sounds that made my heart slam against my rib cage. The closer we got, the louder they became, until they were suddenly howling, as if they might rip themselves free from whatever kept them trapped. When we were in the right place, Demos gestured to the walls, and all of us began desperately searching for the entrance. I ran my hands along the rough surface, looking for anything that didn’t feel like it should be there.

Unsurprisingly, it was Demos who found it. Regner had used a natural fissure in the rock—widening it just enough that it was possible to traverse the narrow path.

The ground sloped down, gradually becoming steeper until I had to dig in with my toes, my thighs burning. No one spoke, and the fire in Gwynara’s hand was our only light. The air grew even cooler and damper as we descended, the echo of dripping water now louder than the snarls above us. Every step was a battle against the slippery terrain, and I fought to keep my balance, my fingers continually scraping against the cold, wet stone.

Our footsteps began to echo. We’d entered some kind of cavern.

With so many people walking ahead of me, it wasn’t until they shifted aside that I saw it. A vast, underground lake lay before us, its surface perfectly, eerily still. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like jagged knives, some of them so low they nearly reached the water’s surface.

The presence of so much water made sense, given how close we were to the Dytur River. Likely, water had infiltrated the mine tunnels at some point, forming the lake we stared at now.

Still, it was yet another complication. Yet another problem to solve before we could find the amulet and leave this place. Along with Gwynara’s fire, there was a single light orb high above our heads, casting just enough light to get a glimpse of its width.

Seemingly impassable, the edges faded into the darkness. There was no way to tell how deep it was—or where it ended.

“The bitch tricked us,” Horrison muttered.

Someone else cursed. I was pushed a step as someone jostled the person in front of them. Demos let out a rough, impatient sound, and everyone went silent.

I barely noticed. I was too busy watching the subtle ripple on the surface—in one particular spot. It was barely a hint of movement in the depths of the water. And it was only every so often. I counted to ninety before the next ripple. If the rest of the lake hadn’t been so still and I weren’t paying excruciatingly close attention, I would’ve missed it.

“Look,” I said, pointing.

Nothing happened.

I glanced at Demos. “I promise I saw something. Just watch.”

His gaze locked on the area I was pointing to. And his expression turned calculating.

“So that’s how he has done it,” he said. “Good catch, Sin.”

I didn’t preen, but it was close.

Now we needed to debate who would go in. The water was so incredibly still, I had no doubt Regner had planted something in the depths, just waiting for whoever was foolish enough to risk the water.

Unfortunately, we were the fools in question.

“Who is the best at sensing and breaking wards around physical objects?”

Brinlor raised his hand. We hadn’t spoken much, but from what little interaction we’d had, he seemed to be a steady, dependable man.

He stood and watched the water intently for several long moments. Then he closed his eyes. “There’s definitely something heavily warded in there,” he said finally.

“Can you remove the ward from here?”

Brinlor shook his head. “It’s too strong. I need to go in. And I’ll need someone to watch my back,” he said, already removing his shoes. “If I’m focusing on breaking the ward, I won’t have much concentration left for whatever beasties Regner has left for us.”

The thought of those beasties turned my blood to ice. But I opened my mouth.

Demos’s head snapped around. “No.”

“I’ll go in,” Gwynara volunteered.

“I’m going in too,” Demos said. I tamped down my instant denial, even though I’d expected this from him. Demos didn’t let anyone do anything he wasn’t prepared to do himself.

Except me. I ground my teeth. But this was not the time.

Three others spoke up. Horrison, Firion, and Nyrik.

“We’ll need you here,” Demos said to me. “With Amalra and Elysanth shooting at anything that moves.”

“Everything except us,” Brinlor said cheerfully.

I couldn’t argue with that. My arrows could at least distract anything that attacked the others.

I felt as if my fear might tear me apart. Demos was already stripping off his shoes, most of his weapons, his cloak. He glanced at me, and I grabbed his hand, unsure exactly what I was doing.

His expression softened. “I’ll be fine.”

I nodded, but it felt as if I’d swallowed a small orange and it was now stuck in my throat. With a squeeze, he removed his hand from mine and dove into the water.

The ship creaked around me, and I forced myself to take a long, slow breath. Even after so much time spent on the water, it was unlikely I would ever become truly comfortable with this kind of transportation—although I only needed the occasional seasickness tonic these days.

But there had been only one way for us to travel through Eprothan territory—on one of the few Eprothan ships Daharak had liberated during the battle to take down the barrier. It was the gold gleaming along the prow of Regner’s ship that had sickened me when we’d boarded. The thought of the wealth he wielded while those in his villages starved… it made my stomach churn.

Now, we’d gathered in the largest stateroom, sitting, once again, around a circular table.

When Lorian had insisted we needed to bring Kaliera, I’d hesitated. I’d liked knowing she was tucked away in Rekja’s castle, the door to her rooms locked and securely guarded. Still, if she’d wanted to escape us, she wouldn’t have come to us in the first place. Since she wanted to see Jamic—and he’d asked her to cooperate—she was forced to work with us.

I’d questioned whether Zathrian would believe Regner would simply arrive with no warning. The answer to that question from anyone who either knew Regner or had studied him intently had been a resounding yes. Arriving unexpectedly to observe one of his allies—and to determine whether that ally was complying with his orders—was exactly the kind of move Regner would make.

As Lorian had pointed out, we didn’t need to fool Zathrian himself. We simply needed to be able to travel unimpeded through Eprothan waters to get close enough to the tip of this continent where we could dock and travel to the Cursed City. It wasn’t entirely surprising that my cousin had chosen to make such a place his base. Not after everything I’d learned about him.

Easily defensible, the Cursed City was located on the northwest coast in Eprotha—directly across the Sleeping Sea from our kingdom.

We’d made it past the Frosthaven Isles—several of our people strolling the deck while dressed in Eprothan colors in case any of Regner’s lingering ships thought to approach. But that hadn’t happened. Something told me most of Regner’s captains and generals were focused only on their orders. It was a small comfort.

I’d longed to pace along the deck, but I knew better than to risk being seen, so I’d hidden away down here— Lorian and Marth keeping me company.

Now that we were approaching my cousin, I was so antsy, my entire body felt as if I were the one with the lightning power and my muscles were barely containing the deadly strikes.

And yet my own power was still nowhere to be seen.

Lorian eyed me. “You want to fight, wildcat?”

Marth snorted.

I got to my feet and pulled my darkened hair back into a braid. My blond curls were too distinctive, so I’d had one of Rekja’s maids help me with them before we left.

Reaching for my dagger, I grinned. Fighting with Lorian would help disperse some of this restless energy. We might not be able to fight on the deck where Galon had insisted on training each day we’d been at sea, but if we pushed this table up against one wall, I could still likely exhaust myself enough that I’d have no room for any other thoughts.

“That’s exactly what I want.”

A knock sounded on the door. I cursed.

“We can wrestle later,” Lorian told me with a predatory grin.

Marth opened the door to reveal Galon. A thin man stood behind him, and Lorian sighed.

“It’s time,” Galon said.

The man followed Galon inside, bowing to me. “Your Majesty.”

“You must be Renit,” I said. He was on the shorter side for one of the fae, thin in stature, but he walked with purpose.

Renit nodded, giving me a shy smile. His hair fell over his eyes, and he brushed it aside. But he straightened his shoulders as he turned his attention to Lorian. “Your Highness.”

Lorian shook his head. “No.”

Renit gave him a stubborn look. Lorian ignored it. “What do you need from me?” Lorian stood, his head nearly brushing the ceiling of the cabin. It had been clear from the moment we boarded that this ship was built for human-sized men.

“Shift to your human form. It also helps if you picture Regner in your mind. Use your own focus and power to boost mine.” All timidity had vanished from Renit now that he was focused on his task.

Lorian nodded.

It happened so slowly, it was as if nothing happened at all. And then I noticed Lorian’s cheekbones had flattened. His nose was thicker. His hair gradually lightened. His cheeks turned a ruddy color.

I was suddenly staring at Regner.

He got to his feet, moving toward me.

I skittered away instinctively, my back hitting the wall.

Lorian froze.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “Just give me a moment.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. In Regner’s jaw.

My breaths were coming faster.

Regner’s hand—no. Lorian’s hand fisted at his side, as he was barely restraining himself from reaching for me.

Galon grabbed my shoulder. “Pris,” he said gently. “Look at his face.”

I forced my gaze up, meeting Lorian’s eyes. They gleamed at me, emerald green and filled with concern and frustration.

Renit’s power hadn’t been able to touch his eyes. Relief warred with worry inside me. Those eyes would make it more difficult for us to get close to my cousin. But knowing I would be able to see Lorian next to me…

It helped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, wildcat.”

It was Lorian’s voice too. Something in my chest unlocked, and I could suddenly breathe properly. Now that I was looking at him, I could see his cheekbones were still too sharp to fit Regner’s face, his jaw too wide.

“Your disguise will be relatively easy, Prisca,” Galon said. “Regner does, after all, travel with servants. You’ll stay a few steps behind the rest of us until we’re close enough to strike.”

After that, things moved quickly. Someone found a uniform that looked just like the one Tibris had worn while working in Regner’s castle. I pulled it on, scraping my dark hair into a bun and burying it beneath a maroon hat.

We weren’t attempting to fool Zathrian or Eadric, I reminded myself over and over. All we needed to do was get past the hybrid guards and into the camp. Our disguise only had to be good enough to last for a few minutes. Enough time for our ship to dock.

Only moments passed before I was standing on the deck of Regner’s ship as we approached the Cursed City. Someone had ordered Kaliera to join us, and she stood in full view of anyone who could see our ship. She wasn’t happy that Conreth had taken Jamic with him once more. But I was pleased they were separated. According to Marth, Jamic had defended his mother’s actions when we were in Thobirea.

“She has already suffered more in her life than most would suffer in several lifetimes,” he’d said. “Few could truly blame her for grasping at whatever power she could. For trying to control anything that could make her own life a little easier.”

In reality, many, many people could blame her for exactly that. And Jamic’s defense of his mother was concerning enough that all of us had agreed to keep them apart.

It was natural for him to want to see the good in Kaliera. Unfortunately, she would destroy any good in him if she could.

The ship rolled beneath me, and I grabbed the rigging, turning my attention to the dock in the distance. Zathrian had been busy rebuilding it, but it was already falling apart in places, wooden beams straining against gravity—likely thanks to our grandmother’s curse, which continued to prevent anyone from building on this land.

“The hags must be working with Regner and Zathrian,” Galon said as we approached. It was strange seeing him in Eprothan colors. “They hold the remains of this city, and they wouldn’t allow Zathrian to build his camp directly outside it without some bargain in place.”

Marth’s lip curled. “It’s a good thing Rythos isn’t here to see this. He’d befriend the bitches and create chaos like they’d never seen. On second thought…it’s a shame he couldn’t attend this little meeting.”

Guards converged on the dock as we approached. The captain roared orders, his voice carrying over the wind as he stood at the ship’s wheel.

I studied the faces of the guards below us, ready to order our retreat if necessary.

But while many of them stared at Lorian and Kaliera, those glances were fearful and rage-filled…not suspicious.

This was good news. If the hybrids here hated Regner, it would be easier to convince them to march with us.

A crewman with the agility of a cat perched at the bow of our ship, casting a thick hemp rope toward the dockhands below. They caught it with ease, securing it swiftly to one of the wobbling bollards.

By now, messengers would be taking the news of Regner’s arrival to my cousin. Since he’d spent so much time with the human king, I had no doubt Zathrian would immediately see through Lorian’s disguise. That was expected. We simply needed to get close enough to him to strike.

My palms turned damp. I stood a few footspans behind Lorian since Regner wouldn’t surround himself with servants unless he needed something. His shoulders tensed slightly, and he smoothly launched into motion, strolling down the gangway.

Fuck.

Lorian was attempting to tamp down his natural fae grace. But it was like watching a leopard imitate a sheep. Galon let out a string of quiet curses, realizing the problem, and managed to walk more like a human. Kaliera shot me a scathing look, lifted her head, and walked down after him.

Unfortunately, Marth could have been walking along a tree limb for how gracefully he strolled. Clearly, he hadn’t recognized any problem at all. He was too busy sweeping his gaze over the guards, searching for threats.

A soldier approached, walking with the stiff formality of the highly ranked. His gaze slid over Lorian’s and met mine as I trailed after them, making a point of stumbling on the ramp like the human I wasn’t. As if I could somehow make up for the fae grace he’d just witnessed. He pressed his lips together.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed to Lorian. “My name is Orivan.”

His eyes slid over to me again, and I shuddered with relief. Blynth and Tymriel had assured me he was sympathetic to our cause, but there had always been the chance we were walking into a trap.

Orivan nodded at my unspoken question. “I will take you to the hybrid heir,” he said loudly. “He will wish to receive you immediately.”

“I suggest you focus on walking like a human,” he said under his breath, and Marth glanced bemusedly at his feet, as if wondering how exactly he was supposed to achieve that.

Smoke curled into the air from the campfires in the distance. The Cursed City sprawled out to our left as we walked along the coast. Rounding the western edge of the city, I held my breath as I approached the guards stationed at the entrance.

Instinctively, I reached for my power. But the guards bowed their heads to Orivan, who swept past them with a nod. I kept my own head down, expecting one of them to yell out at any moment.

But…what were the chances most low-level guards would accuse the Eprothan king of duplicity? Would accuse one of Zathrian’s trusted generals of leading his enemies into their camp?

From the incredulous look on Galon’s face, it was clear he would have expected exactly that from any soldiers he had trained.

I caught up to the others, still trailing behind them. “I hope you are everything Blynth and Tymriel said, Nelayra Valderyn,” Orivan murmured.

“I don’t know what they said about me, but I promise I will prove myself to you,” I said, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.

He gave a sharp nod. We rounded one more corner, where a huge training arena sprawled across the landscape. Zathrian stood next to that arena, Eadric by his side.

My heart kicked in my chest, my blood turned to ice, and the world receded as I stared at my cousin.

Eadric took one look at Lorian and raised his hand, stabbing his finger toward him.

“Lies,” he hissed.

Zathrian’s eyes met mine. And he grinned.