A War of Three Kings (Dying Lands #2)

44. Aldrin

Chapter 44

Aldrin

W e spend weeks at the palace, taking advantage of the gathered nobles to discuss the trade agreement. I begrudgingly send my army of high and low fae back to my realm, only keeping my loyal band close.

After what feels like an eternity, we leave the palace of Sunbright City with both Edmund’s and my full entourage. Naomi remains to restore the Sanctuary of Magic in the capital. Relief floods me as I step through the portal in the palace, replacing the library’s dry warmth and the mustiness of old parchment with the misty rain and rich scent of vegetation at Appleshield Castle.

Keira steps out beside me, Edmund and all our combined warriors trailing behind. She keeps shooting me happy little grins as we make our way through the restored ancient gardens and up a path that leads to the orchards and castle. I place an arm around her shoulders and kiss her hair, and she nestles into my side.

She has been longing for home.

To spend peaceful hours, days and weeks together, undisturbed.

The light rain peters out and stops as we climb a hillside that is as still as a graveyard. No workers or guards are moving about. Not even birds or animals stir. Keira frowns into greenhouse after greenhouse. The glass is mostly fogged, and she bends down to peer through it. A sense of foreboding prickles my skin.

Keira turns to Edmund. “Why is no one working?”

Edmund frowns and cuts his conversation with Cyprien short, quickly glancing around.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, but I feel it too, deep in my gut. There should be guards making their rounds, workers moving between greenhouses, servants traveling in and out of the fortress.

“We will see what is going on when we reach the castle. I’m sure your mother and Caitlin have everything under control,” Edmund mutters, but from the alert look in his eye, it is clear he is worried. He calls a few guards to himself, and they take the lead, hands on the pommels of their swords.

That feeling of unease intensifies as we near the bridge that spans the ravine to the castle. Thick mists roll out of the deep valley, engulfing the bridge and licking across the rocky foundations of the keep. It is incredibly difficult to make out the guardhouse that leads to the keep’s entrance. Keira bites her lip and looks at me, nervousness rolling through her and bleeding into me.

We pause just before the bridge while Edmund frowns into the unknown, his jaw tight. His fingers dance across the pommel of his sword like he could cut down a force of nature with steel alone. After a long moment, he flicks his head toward the bridge and we step into the mist. I exchange a glance with Cyprien, but he only shrugs.

Our footsteps on the stone pavers are dull thuds, their sound muted by fog. It feels unnatural, too thick and unyielding, but perhaps I am being paranoid. It has just been raining and I am not familiar with these lands.

“Is it normal for mists this thick to form here?” I murmur to Keira.

“In the mountains and highest parts of the forest. Never here.” Her doe eyes are wide as they stare back at me.

I search for Edmund, about to tell him to dispel the mists with dry heat from his fire magic, but he is gone. Lost in the wall of white. I reach out to grab him, but something pushes me hard from behind, and I am suddenly staggering forward, fast.

I catch myself on a wield of hardened air, then craft ropes to wrap around Keira’s middle as she propels through the air and almost tumbles face first onto the pavers.

As I gently lower her to the ground, a massive boom echoes around us.The mists evaporate abruptly and the gatehouse behind us is suddenly blocked by a thick iron gate that has fallen in place.

Most of our people are trapped on the other side. They are only visible through narrow slits in the gate. The wall of air that thrust me into the courtyard pushed them backward, separating our force. Humans scream as they topple into each other, and some fall from the sides of the bridge.

Klara bangs against the other side of the gate, still trapped on the bridge and gesturing at something behind me. Silvan and Hawthorne stand on either side of her, whipping together air ropes to catch those soldiers from their falls into the valley’s depths.

Only a heartbeat passes before I turn to our assailants. I should have known the mists were summoned by magic, but they were expertly created. Fae archers line the top of the inner wall that surrounds us, their arrows nocked and pointed. Most of our fighting force is outside, with only a handful of my and Edmund’s ranking soldiers around us.

I protect Keira with my body.

As I pull on my magic to throw up an air shield, all those fae turn and aim at me in unison. We all freeze and raise our hands, and I let go of the wield.

Cold dread burns through me as I take stock of their large number colonizing the wall. My heart rate ramps up as Keira’s fear pumps into me.

“Are these fae yours, by any chance, Aldrin?” Edmund’s voice is a low growl.

“Yes, and no.” I take in their uniform, one I had never seen before my return to my capital city, and I know exactly who has taken his fortress. I curse under my breath. The need to fight has my muscles twitching.

“That bad, is it?” Edmund asks.

“These are soldiers from the Spring Court, but they are not loyal to me. They are the personal guard of the High Chancellor, who stole my throne. Titania is here. One of the fae who fought with us must have talked after I sent my force home.”

The grand doors of the castle crash open and a tall fae man steps outside, clutching Caitlin by the shoulders and pushing her in front of him. His long black hair is loose, reaching down his back in a smooth curtain, and his pale facial features are so delicate they are almost feminine.

He is the mirror of his mother.

I would recognize that evil anywhere.

“What are you doing here, Torin?” I stalk over to him, mustering every bit of malice into my expression as I scowl at him. I allow the horns, stripes and claws of my primal form to materialize. He used to cry and run away from my very presence as a child.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” Edmund roars, launching forward at the same moment. With a rustle of moving bodies, the archers maneuver to point their arrows at him. At Keira, who has rushed to his side. Edmund leaves his sword half drawn and raises both his hands.

The sight of all those missiles threatening my mate awakens a vicious beast within, and I grapple with the maddening intensity of the snarling creature to stop myself from tossing those archers from the wall. I wouldn’t be fast enough to kill them before they loosed a volley of arrows at us.

My power rears up within me anyway.

Torin’s golden eyes flick over to me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Innocents might die, and we all know how you like to play the big protector.” He glances down at Caitlin with a cruel smile on his lips, his fingers digging deeper into her flesh as he shakes her by the shoulders. “Why don’t you tell them why we are here, sweetheart?”

A wave of torment rolls over me from Keira, pierced with spikes of anxiety. I truly look at Caitlin for the first time since arriving. Her face is bloodless, her eyes red-rimmed and moving frantically. There is crusted blood matting her hairline. I have never seen her so desperate or afraid, not even on the eve of battle.

Caitlin swallows hard. “The High Chancellor Titania of the Spring Court arrived yesterday morning. She demands to discuss the trade agreement between humans and fae.” Her glassy eyes dart to me and panic blooms in them. “Aldrin, she will harm?—”

Torin yanks her by the hair and tosses her through the open doorway, not caring that she trips. “That is enough from you,” he snarls.

“Don’t you DARE manhandle her!” Edmund screams, charging after him with his scattering of guards.

“Don’t you know who I am?” Torin laughs, stepping into the keep. “I am the High Chancellor’s son. I can do whatever I want.”

“The gods help me. I am going to kill them all.” I shake with the rage billowing through me, stalking after them with Keira in tow, half holding her back from clawing the man’s eyes out. I hear her thoughts screaming at her to do exactly that.

“We’d better see their hand first,” Cyprien says.

Fae jump from the wall down into the courtyard, giving us little choice as they push us forward. Multiple hands grip my arms and shoulders and shove at my back. I hold Keira protectively in front of me so none of them can touch her.

We are brought to the great hall, where festivities are in full swing. Garlands hang from the walls. Trestle tables are set up with a banquet of food: an entire roasted pig, platters of vegetables, flaky pastries. Human women are scantily dressed, serving the fae food or pitchers of wine and being pulled into their laps. The servants’ faces are red with shame, and many have tears running down their cheeks. A band plays music and more humans perform dances on small pedestals, while fae soldiers leer.

My heart nearly stops when my eyes fall on Titania.

She sits on a throne she has dragged onto a dais, a chalice of wine in one hand—and a tiny baby cradled carelessly in the other. Morgana.

Maeve stands beside the throne, eyes glued to her granddaughter, jumping forward and abruptly stopping herself each time the baby’s head lolls unsupported when the High Chancellor laughers or barks orders at humans. There is a series of purple bruises across Keira’s mother’s face.

She has tried to intervene multiple times.

Keira halts, taking in the horror of the slight. The sheer abuse. Then her eyes fall upon her niece. Waves of black fury run off her as her thoughts churn with incoherent death and darkness. I shove her behind me, into Cyprien’s arms, giving him a silent command with a single look: Hold her back .

I stride straight up to the dais, arms spread wide. “Okay, Titania, you have my attention. Let the humans go and we will speak.”

Titania’s eyes are enchanted to glow with golden light, and they widen with delight as they fall on me. Her black lips curl into a smile and the many golden chains of her diadem sway as she turns her head to me.

She clicks fingers that end in long, black nails and the orchestra abruptly stops playing.The dancing humans scurry away.

“Oh, Aldrin, you were always far too egotistical. How embarrassing for you.” She cackles. “I don’t give a damn about you or your attention. I’m here for the Lord Protector.” She looks past me, clicking her fingers again. “Caitlin, my pet. Where are you? Come, sit at my feet again and introduce me to your father.”

Edmund shoves his way through the crowd and storms to my side, right as Torin drags Caitlin by the arm at an awkward angle and throws her on the dais at Titania’s feet. To my shock, she doesn’t lash back or snarl. No, she rushes to Titania’s side, where her baby is being roughly handled by the High Chancellor.

I know Titania.

She will kill every person in this room without hesitation if provoked.

Edmund charges up the dais steps and stands over her. “Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you come here and treat my family like this? Abuse my people? Where are the rest of my guards?”

“Father.” Keira’s voice trembles behind me. “Look up.”

Dozens of guards wrapped in cocoons of vines hang from the ceiling and walls. Their forms writhe and make smothered cries. At least they are still alive. All around them are threads of magic, weaving together wards and traps that will surely fall on us at Titania’s demand.

We have walked straight into her ambush.

Edmund’s face pales at the sight. My mind whirls, looking for a way out, a way to decipher her plans, but she has always been too wily for me.

Titania tsks. “Caitlin, dear child. You didn’t do a good enough job announcing me when they arrived. I am the true ruler of the Spring Court, not that useless fae next to you.” She flicks her eyes to me, then holds out a jeweled hand to Edmund, as though she expects him to kiss it. The Lord Protector looks at it, then flicks it away.

“Unhand my wife, my daughter and my granddaughter,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. “Leave us.”

“Where would the fun be in that?” Titania looks him up and down, crossing one long leg over the other, still holding the babe like an accessory.

I clench and unclench my fists. We are moments away from this escalating into bloodshed. An overwhelming desire for violence fills me, and I no longer care that the fae soldiers in this hall are citizens of my court, following their ruler’s orders. I don’t care for a fair election.

I want Titania dead.

A single glance over my shoulder shows me Keira is safe in Cyprien’s clutches. Her entire body has frozen while her mind reels with shock. No. No. No. Don’t hurt Morgana. Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt her! she screams inside her head and mine, again and again. I have to dampen the bond just to think clearly.

I need to act.

I step up onto the dais beside Edmund and scowl as I lean down and get in Titania’s face. “You are making a mistake here. The humans do not take kindly to threats. It has taken me almost a year to convince their ruling class that we are not monsters who will force our will on them.”

Titania stands with agitation and pokes me in the chest with one of her claws. “Am I not making friends here?” She flicks out her long nails on her free hand, indicating the party. “I’m even cuddling this little halfling.” She croons the word that is so often used as an insult in our realm. There is an evil glint in her eye as her lips curl; she knows the humans do not understand the ancient slur. “I just want to make allies. To become trade partners with these humans. Isn’t that what you promised them from our court?”

She knows they would back me if a war broke out between us. Titania wouldn’t place any value on an alliance with humans, but she can’t stand losing at anything.

This is all a popularity contest to her.

I feel like I am standing on the edge of a blade. One wrong step and these fae will kill Keira, her family and everyone else in this room.

I grind my teeth. “Give me the baby, and then we can talk.”

“Give the baby to a brute like you! Ha! I wouldn’t dare.” She tickles Morgana’s cheek.

Caitlin jumps to her feet and reaches for her daughter. “I’ll take her so you can speak with my father.”

“BACK DOWN, pet!” Titania explodes in her face, jostling the babe in her hands. Caitlin jolts and obeys. Titania clicks her fingers at the human servants again. “Bring in another throne for your Lord Protector.”

Her unnerving eyes slide to Edmund, another smile plastered on her lips.

“Do you see how gracious I can be? Sit on this dais with me, as though we are equals, and take it as an act of good faith. Let us discuss this trade agreement that Aldrin merely started. I can make you a very wealthy man, Edmund. Of course, I would need to meet with your king as well.”

The servants scurry away, but Edmund doesn’t move. He glowers at the High Chancellor. “Neither I nor my king will ever enter a trade agreement with you. Especially not after you have threatened my family. You have disrespected me by taking my castle and attacking my guards.”

“Careful, Edmund, I might take offence.” Titania retakes her seat, all her false charm gone. “You see, these were necessary measures. I knew poor little Aldrin, who lost his throne to me by the popular vote of the people, would sully my good reputation in this realm.”

“Hand back the child and we will speak.” Edmund reaches for Morgana.

Titania pulls the baby back, smirking. “I don’t think I will.”

My temper flares. “By the Soul Ripper, Titania. Enough with the games! We already know you have enough traps rigged through this hall for you to kill us instantaneously, without you having to traumatize the baby as well.”

Titania’s eyes slide to mine, and she tips her head to the side with amusement, her shimmering black hair cascading over her shoulder. “Don’t look at me with death in your eyes, Aldrin. All the fae here know you are nothing but an angry puka with its claws pulled out. You won’t kill me, despite whatever promises you make yourself, because you still dream of winning a fair election. Of gaining back the warm and fuzzy love of the people.”

Morgana cries, her sobs escalating into an urgent wail, her tiny face turning pink. Titania ignores the baby, but Caitlin looks ready to strike, and Maeve shakes with restraint.

Flashes of red light ripple across Edmund’s skin. He is barely holding it together, and if he turns into the full might of his fae form, he will unleash utter destruction on the woman before him. I have seen how the Lord Protector reacts when he believes one of his family members is under threat.

For four, he would turn feral.

It would be a bloodbath and a slaughter. Titania does not understand the beast she pokes, believing him to be pure human.

I swallow my pride and push down the maddening dread, the blinding anger, and try to de-escalate. “Tell us what you want, because open negotiations were never on your agenda.”

“Aldrin, Aldrin, Aldrin,” she laughs. “You always ruin my fun.” My scowl deepens, but she dismisses me with a glance, returning to Edmund. “You will bind yourself to the trade agreement my advisers have taken the liberty of writing up, and I will take certain precautions to ensure you cooperate with its terms. Then I will leave your rather plain castle within the hour.” She clicks her fingers again. “Torin, if you will.”

Her son’s narrow-lipped mouth twists as he shoots her a dark look, clearly disappointed in the lack of violence, but he pulls a scroll from his satchel and hands it to Edmund, who skims the words.

My heart hammers erratically as my hands itch to pull the parchment from him and read it. Titania is known as a ruthless and cunning businesswoman. For catching her partners in treacherous deals that ruin them with sneaky clauses.

Edmund’s eyes slide to his crying granddaughter, then back to the fae tyrant. “I do not have the authority to sign this. Allow me to send word to the king. It won’t take long. In the meantime, please , hand the crying baby back to her mother.”

Caitlin reaches for Morgana. Titania ignores her, resting the babe on her own chest and patting her back rhythmically until she settles. The contrast between the evil of her nature and that single glimpse into competent motherhood is unnerving.

Titania looks at Edmund with a predator’s gleam in her eye. “Keep the contract. I will send a diplomat to collect it in a week. But I demand assurances that you will play nice. What I have in mind will motivate your human king as well, considering he probably wants to keep happy the pretty young bride he just took.”

“What assurances?” Edmund’s voice is dead.

Titania’s black lips curl into a cruel smile as she leans forward in her seat and points a long nail at him. “I will take three generations of your family with me to my court. Your wife. Your daughter. Your granddaughter.” She counts each woman off the tip of a finger as she glances at Maeve, Caitlin and Morgana. Then her eyes lock on me. “And, precious Aldrin, I haven’t forgotten about you. I will have you dead before I leave here.”