16. Chapter Fifteen
16
Nicholas
M ages marched along the perimeter where soldiers shoveled snow to form a wall. Fae wards created out of stone resembling the shapes of gargoyles sat half buried in snow. A blessing in disguise for approaching monsters wouldn’t notice the little beasts. If a threat grew close, the gargoyles woke and attacked. While not capable of protecting against an army, they worked well to notify anyone of trouble. The mortals glared or glanced at the gargoyles when they passed by, always watchful. They weren’t fond of fae objects, calling them cursed and destined to turn on them. They weren’t entirely wrong. Most fae offered enchanted artifacts with ill intent, but the Collision Treaty forced them to work together. The gargoyles were safe for mortal use, so long as Fearworn still breathed. If anyone happened to keep the gargoyles, well, only time would tell what those gargoyles would do.
The fae scouts waited at the edge of camp. Arden, Amos, and to Nicholas’ immense displeasure, Blair, were among them, along with two other fae introduced as Brein and Elvar.
“Must she come along?” Nicholas nodded at his far too smug sister.
“Is it not a big sister’s job to watch over her younger siblings?” Blair caught the end of his hair to twirl around her finger. If she could get away with it, she’d rip the hair off his head.
“You would sooner kick me into a gitan’s maw than watch over me.”
Blair leaned in to whisper, “Someone must keep you on your leash, otherwise you may wind up dead. While the world would be better for it, Father will get the ludicrous idea to send me after Fearworn instead.”
“And you wouldn’t survive against him.”
“Look at you, coming to accurate conclusions. Perhaps there is some semblance of a brain in here after all.” Blair knocked her fist against Nicholas’ temple. “Play well and good or Father will learn and have his way with you.”
Sweat coated the back of his neck, brisk by the cold. Nicholas heaved a slow breath, willing his mind to think of anything other than darkness. Other than Laurent’s glacial expression as the rocks caved in around Nicholas, bathing him in shadow.
“Are the two of you finished?” Amos called. “We should be on our way.”
“Yes, yes, lead the way!” Blair spun on her heel and joined the others.
Amos shared a simple plan; head directly to Fearworn and keep out of sight. He didn’t want to risk Fearworn suspecting their arrival. If he did, he might run off. While Nicholas could track him, they wanted to get as much information on his whereabouts and army as they could, then attack with the upper hand.
The scouts sprinted into the forest, more silent than a breeze. Nicholas led the way, always listening to Fearworn, ensuring he remained in place. There was no time or need to rest. They ran through the night, stopping once on the second day when Elvar hesitated within a grove of trees that looked like any other. The scouts mirrored him, waiting and looking to Elvar for an explanation.
“Do you hear something?” Amos asked.
Elvar nodded. “Over there.”
He shifted through the woods, then stopped. The scouts crowded around Elvar’s hunched figure. He nodded past the bushes, through the trees, to the remains of an old town. The broken buildings resembled those Nicholas took shelter in after Fearworn’s beasts attacked him. Dozens of gitans patrolled the ruined town and thick webs stretched from one broken house to another. The chittering of spions was loud enough to hear from a distance and the stench made their eyes water. The town smelled of metallic blood and festering wounds.
“A small outpost,” Brein said. Her pupils dilated, and she grabbed the swords at her waist. “There aren’t many of them. We could finish them here and now.”
“That is not the plan,” said Amos, a hand steadied on Brein’s to prevent her from drawing her blade.
“The plan is boring,” Nicholas countered, heart racing at the promise of battle. “You sound like my father.”
“Lord Darkmoon is intelligent and careful. Two qualities he did not pass onto you.”
Blair threw both hands over her mouth to cover her laughter. But she snorted and everyone fell silent when one of the gitan’s swerved. The beast peered into the forest, deemed the noise nothing, then moved on.
Amos sighed. “There is no need to attack. We will take note of this outpost and inform the mortal generals.”
“They are a group of brainless beasts Fearworn will use against us in the future. If we kill them now, we avoid a future confrontation,” Nicholas argued, now starving for a fight. He hadn’t set loose since Fearworn. His blood threatened to boil, to explode from the energy surging within.
Amos never argued. He spoke, clean and precise, like an executioner’s blade. “Or we lose the opportunity to spy on Fearworn because a message reaches him about a group of his monsters dying near the facility. We keep moving and you will watch yourself. That is the least you can do after always throwing your power around to get what you want.”
“Like you haven’t done the same.”
Amos’ eerily white teeth had been sharpened to a point, so his smiles were never less than ominous. “As we all have, but at least the rest of us learned when it is and isn’t appropriate to hold sway over others. You are reckless and immature, always acting as if you’re better than the rest of us when you are the one cursed.”
Elvar and Brein kept their bleak gaze on Nicholas, observing his reaction, which was little more than his lips twitching into a snarl. Blair kept a hand on her mouth, but nothing could hide her mirth. Nicholas needn’t hear from her to know she agreed with every word, and had said far worse. He knew well what she, and others, thought of him, how they viewed him, how the treatment and the cruelties got so much worse after Fearworn attacked. Fae rightfully feared shades. All had proven to be a problem, in some form or another.
“This war must end so those damned treaties will too,” Amos continued. “Our parents may have plans for you and Evera and your wretched offspring, but the rest of us will not let you risk everything because you are too erratic and need your father to control you.”
Nicholas’ words caught on his tongue, incapable of denying Amos’ accusation. Truth be told, Laurent always had control. All his insistence and rules made Nicholas want to rebel, but there would be no true rebellion against Laurent. If he pushed too hard, Laurent didn’t push back—he crushed his opponents mercilessly, his son included. Without Laurent, perhaps Nicholas would have given in by now. He may have joined Fearworn, if only to find a place where he belonged, where others would see him as more than a curse, but of something grand.
Regardless, Nicholas would not let Amos have the last word. He caught Amos by the collar. Flames licked Amos’ skin, making it blister as Nicholas snarled, “Do not think I will let you continuously speak down to me. Continue this and you will come to regret it.”
Amos grinned. “Erratic, as I said, but also foolish and self absorbed. I can’t wait until my mother has her way with you.”
Nicholas lurched forward. Arden snatched his arm. Another reminder of Laurent’s control. The bastard wasn’t here but Nicholas felt his watch. Knew he would hear of this should things go too far and there would be severe consequences.
“We move on. Now.” Amos ducked beneath the tree limbs to continue their travels. Elvar and Brein were the first to follow. Blair stayed, giggling.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Nicholas warned.
“Why?” Blair asked. “Don’t like being reminded how little you really mean to everyone?”
“This war cannot be won without me.”
“So you think, so you hope.” She walked backward toward the group, keeping her glinting eyes on him. “Regardless, once this war ends, you will be reminded how little everyone truly thinks of you. How we all wish to be in a world without you in it.”
“She’s toying with you,” Arden whispered.
Nicholas’ hands clenched into aching fists. He cracked his neck from side to side, resisting the urge to cut Amos and Blair in two with their backs turned. Nicholas didn’t mind fighting dirty, so long as he won. So long as he didn’t have to hear from either of them ever again.
“Come, we do not want to be left behind.” Arden tugged Nicholas forward. He followed, unsure of who deserved his furious gaze more.
Blair never wanted Nicholas’ position at Laurent’s side. She didn’t envy Nicholas’ power, either. From the moment his power revealed itself, she had one thing on her mind; his demise. Many fae believed shades should be disposed of prior to becoming a bigger threat. They never mattered much to Nicholas, but having a sibling to believe such sentiments meant keeping his guard up. Always.
Amos, Nicholas could never truly read. He probably felt similarly to Blair, especially after what he had just said. But Amos’ mother spun a treacherous web for Evera and Nicholas. Amos, like many others, tolerated Nicholas. He served a purpose. Nothing more. Their belief in him, their cheers, had always been fake. Even Arden. He saw Nicholas as a powerful ally, and the one he had to watch over. There wasn’t a single soul who sought Nicholas for anything more. The thought never bothered him until now. Never made his breath catch or had him wonder what it would be like to be different, to have someone seek him out for literally any other reason.
Nicholas didn’t enjoy somber thoughts. He had a job to do, so he focused on observing Fearworn. At least that would keep him distracted. Most observations resulted in little to no new information. Fearworn focused on his work, obsessing about the creation of creatures and endless possibilities of realms containing even worse. Observing the shade took enough of a toll on Nicholas. Fearworn’s power mixed with his like dirt muddling clear water. That power crept through him, not a chill but a rapacious heat catching fire to his nerves. Some moments, he thought he wouldn’t escape that hunger. Some moments, he didn’t want to. Amos, Blair, maybe even Laurent, they could vanish with the snap of his fingers. Nicholas would reshape the world in what he desired, even if that left him utterly alone.
That scared him. Losing himself scared him because every tale of a shade ended terribly. Fae weren’t known for good endings, but shades, they crumbled into nothing, into no one. Nicholas didn’t want to fade away, to cease to exist in a pitiful state, to be used until he was worthless and nothing.
The fae trekked toward the lab for another day. Occasionally, they hid from monsters lurking nearby. Fearworn had a couple of stations in the forest that the fae noted. Outposts, of sorts, perhaps guiding new shadowed disciples or merely monitoring the lands. Regardless, the fae made no move to take any of them. Amos always scrutinized at Nicholas each time, expecting him to make a move that never came. Then Blair smirked or giggled, and somehow, Nicholas resisted the urge to remove her head.
The last day, the scouts snuck around treacherous peaks, careful not to be detected by the aerial creatures circling the citadel along the mountainside. Nicholas noted most of the creatures were ratwings. Occasionally, the larger winged beast he fought appeared. Though he had informed the generals of the beast, Fearworn seemed to want to keep their creation relatively secret. Based on what Nicholas saw, Fearworn had more plans for them. He experimented on many monsters, severing limbs and reattaching new ones, grotesque even in Nicholas’ mind.
Once the fae found a suitable position to view the citadel from a high cave hidden in the rock face, they observed. The citadel grew more chaotic than when Nicholas first saw it through Fearworn’s eyes. The shade remained in his study since his arrival, so Nicholas never saw or heard of what transpired outside. He was as shocked as the others to witness the winged beasts lurch into the air after their arrival. The gates opened and monsters poured out in droves. They marched for the encampment, no doubt.
Elvar had a neat ability to build origami and breathe life into the paper. That’s how he got messages through the Deadlands, but a flying scrap of paper would garner attention. The ratwings would tear it to shreds and shadowed disciples would realize they were being watched. The fae sat, quiet and waiting for the chaos to lessen, then they set the origami bird to flight with a warning that all knew wouldn’t reach the camp in time.
What a pity, Nicholas thought. They would return to a bloodbath and have missed out on a glorious battle.